The Christian Codex And The Pocket Sized Bookroll

Scholars often attribute the compactness and portability of a codex as the impetus for Christians to have adopted this format for their scriptures at an early date. For example, the itinerate preaching of the early apostles and evangelists could have necessitated the compactness and portability of the codex over the roll (Epp, "The Codex," 20-22). As is often counter argued, these types of modern attitudes towards the codex are likely influenced by anachronistic ideas about the book (Larsen and Letteney, "Christians and the Codex," 390-391). With this in mind I came across a few references in Aulus Gellius's Attic Nights (2nd cen. CE) that shed light on the alleged portability of the codex verses the roll.

In Gellius's account, Scipio Africanus was being accused in front of the senate of taking a bribe from King Antiochus. In response to this Gellius recounts,

"Thereupon Scipio arose, and taking a roll from the fold of his toga, said that it contained an account of all the money and all the booty; that he had brought it to be publicly read and deposited in the treasury. "But that," said he, "I shall not do now, nor will I so degrade myself." And at once, before them all, he tore the roll across with his own hands and rent it into bits, indignant that an account of money taken in war should be required of him, to whose account the salvation of the Roman State and its power ought to be credited." (Gellius, Noctes Atticae, 4.18.9-12)

In this account, Scipio wasn't carrying a proper bookroll containing a lengthy literary work. It appeared to be some sort of leger of smaller size because Scipio was able to tear it into shreds fairly easily. This would have been much more difficult for a normal full-sized literary roll.

Later in the work, Gellius recounts a personal story in which he was in a book shop and a "foolish man" was boasting that he was the only person who could truly understand Marcus Varro's Satires.

"At the time I chanced to have with me a book of those Satires, entitled Ὑδροκύων, or The Water Dog. I therefore went up to him and said: "Master, of course you know that old Greek saying, that music, if it be hidden, is of no account.​ I beg you therefore to read these few lines and tell me the meaning of the proverb contained in them." (Gellius, Noctes Atticae, 13.31.2-3)

This account is a fascinating retelling of a duel of minds, with Gellius exposing the "foolish man's" ignorance of the text. In this instance, the bookroll carried by Gellius was a proper roll containing literature. Thus, in the same manner as Scipio, Gellius was able to carry this roll on his person and produce it quickly and rapidly find the relevant passage with ease.

Later in his work, Gellius recounts a story in which a bright young man was having a conversation in a public space about an historical fact concerning a passage in Homer's Illiad. Some "half educated fellows" were present and ignorantly interjected themselves into the conversation.

"One or two half-educated fellows who were present there, of the class that the Greeks call ἀγοραῖοι, or “haunters of the market-place,” laughed in derision of this statement, and declared that the man who had made it had read a copy of Homer which happened to lack the following verse: "And rotted the ship's timbers, loosed the ropes (σπάρτα)." Then the youth, in great vexation, replied: “It was not my book that lacked that line, but you who badly lacked a teacher, if you believe that σπάρτα in that verse means what we call spartum, or 'a rope of Spanish broom'.” They only laughed the louder, and would have continued to do so, had he not produced the twenty-fifth book of Varro's Human Antiquities, in which Varro writes as follows of that Homeric word: “I believe that σπάρτα in Homer does not mean sparta, or 'Spanish broom,' but rather σπάρτοι, a kind of broom which is said to grow in the Theban territory. " (Gellius, Noctes Atticae, 17.3)

In this account, it is not exactly clear where the story takes place. Judging by the description of the "half-educated fellows" it likely occurred in a public marketplace of some kind. The bright young man happened to be carrying a roll that contained a copy of the twenty-fifth book of Marcus Varro's Human Antiquities. This was a literary work written in a bookroll and the youth had no problem finding the relevant passage quickly and producing it for the other "foolish-men" to read for themselves.

In each of these cases recounted by Gellius, a bookroll was easily carried by the hero of the story. The relevant passage was quickly located and produced for the protagonist to read for themselves. Though limited in scope, this evidence reveals the anachronistic tendencies of modern arguments for the Christian preference for the codex. It seems that an educated itinerant preacher would have had no problem carrying a gospel in a roll format, producing it during an evangelism event, and finding a relevant gospel passage from which to engage with the listeners.

EDIT: A reader of the blog, Viktor Johansson, responded with some excellent observations through private message. Some important objections to my quick take on Gellius, especially concerning the account at 17.3, are these: 

First, I can't assume that the discussion with the educated young man takes place in a marketplace outdoors. This account could have just as easily occurred in a personal library or outside of a public library where texts like Varro's would have been readily available.

Second, and most importantly of all, because the heroes of these stories are educated well-to-do men, they most likely had a retinue of slaves at hand with them. These would have been invisible in the story. Any one of these attendants could have gone and fetched the book for the protagonist either from the location at hand (in a public or private library) or had been carrying it upon their persons.

All in all, this excellent response reveals my own anachronistic assumptions that I bring to the text of Gellius. At best these accounts from Gellius reveal that educated men in the high Roman empire were adept at handling a bookroll and could easily find the relevant passage a roll.

EDIT#2: Johansson responded again with some more excellent observations on these passages in Attic Nights. Gellius, speaking in the first person, recounts a scene where he visits Fronto who was sick and sitting on a couch "surrounded by men famous for learning, birth, or fortune." In the middle of this scene, Fronto is being shown plans for a bath "drawn on little pieces of parchment." A dispute suddenly arises over the meaning of a word that Fronto uses. To settle the matter, a famous grammarian sitting nearby is pointed out. The grammarian argues that the word is "better known in the talk of mechanics than in that of cultivated men." Fronto replied in the following manner.

"But Fronto, raising his voice and with a more earnest expression, said: “Sir, does this word seem to you so degraded and utterly faulty, when Marcus Cato and Marcus Varro, and the early writers in general, have used it as necessary and as good Latin?” And thereupon Julius Celsinus reminded him that also in the tragedy of Ennius entitled Iphigeina the very word about which we were inquiring was found, and that it was more frequently corrupted by the grammarians than explained. Consequently, he at once asked that the Iphigenia of Quintus Ennius be brought and in a chorus of that tragedy we read these lines: . . .When this had been read there, then Fronto said to the grammarian, who was already wavering . . . ." (Gellius, Noctes Atticae, 19.10)

This account is fascinating and should be read in its entirety. I only wanted to quote the relevant few lines here because they paint a vivid picture of the scene. Fronto is ill, surrounded by many educated men in his private home. A dispute arises with a grammarian and Fronto asks his attendants (not mentioned up to this point) to fetch a specific book of literature. Gellius doesn't specify who reads the text, whether Fronto himself or an attendant, or perhaps the grammarian himself. Either way it appears that the text was read out loud to everyone present. This account sheds light on the other reading events quoted above, especially at 17.3. It is possible that these events took place in a similar situation as 19.10 with attendants present and in a location with books readily available.

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Eldon J. Epp, "The Codex and Literacy in Early Christianity and at Oxyrhynchus: Issues Raised by Harry Y. Gamble’s Books and Readers in the Early Church" in Critical Review of Books in Religion 11 (1988): 15-37.

Matthew D. C. Larsen, Mark Letteney, "Christians and the Codex: Generic Materiality and Early Gospel Traditions" in Journal of Early Christian Studies 27.3 (2019): 383-415.

William A. Johnson, Readers and Reading Culture in the High Roman Empire: A Study of Elite Communities (New York: Oxford University Press, 2010), 129 footnote 54.

Review of Nicholas A. Elder's "Gospel Media"

I recently reviewed Nicholas Elder's new book "Gospel Media: Reading, Writing, and Circulating Jesus Traditions" (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2024). I reviewed the book for the Evangelical Review of Theology and Politics.

Review of Sabine R. Huebner. Papyri and the Social World of the New Testament

 

In the September issue of the Journal of the Evangelical Theological Society has published a fresh review from me of 

Sabine R. Huebner's, Papyri and the Social World of the New Testament (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2019). 

Though I have some criticisms of the book, mainly her view of early Christianity in Egypt, overall, the book is very good and is chock full of interesting insights. Especially refreshing is Huebner's treatment of the problems in the census of Luke 2:1-3 which are original and appear to satisfactorily reconcile the chronological problems of this census with other known imperial censuses mentioned in the ancient writings.

Review of; "A Commentary on the Manuscripts and Text of the New Testament" by Philip Wesley Comfort

A Commentary on the Manuscripts and Text of the New Testament. By Philip Wesley Comfort. Grand Rapids: Kregel, 2015, 416 pp., $29.99.

 This book review had originally been written nearly two years previously and was submitted to a journal for publication. After languishing in their ‘accepted’ folder for months, it was subsequently withdrawn from submission and, instead, published on ‘The Textual Mechanic’ blog and on Academia.edu.

As the methods of New Testament textual criticism develop and as more manuscripts are discovered, handbooks and textual commentaries of the New Testament require updating and revision. Philip Comfort’s A Commentary on the Manuscripts and Text of the New Testament endeavors to provide such an updated resource. This work is a concise handbook on the manuscripts of the New Testament, a brief introduction to the theory and practice of textual criticism, a commentary on textual variations within the manuscript tradition of the New Testament, and an introduction to the curious scribal features known as nomina sacra.
Philip Comfort is senior editor of Bible reference at Tyndale House publishers and has taught at Trinity Episcopal Seminary, Wheaton College, Columbia International University, and Coastal Carolina University. He is well known for the Text of the Earliest New Testament Greek Manuscripts (2001), edited together with David P. Barrett, and for his New Testament Text and Translation Commentary (2008).
In the introduction of A Commentary on the Manuscripts and Text of the New Testament Comfort set out the goal for the work when he wrote, “[i]n this commentary readers will be reading commentary on actual manuscripts. . . No other Bible commentary does this” (p. 7). Besides providing annotation on textual variation, every instance where a nomina sacra appears within the text of these manuscripts is noted throughout the commentary.
Between the brief introduction and chapter one is placed a segment entitled simply as “Early Manuscripts” (p. 11-14). In this section, the earliest manuscript evidence is presented by chapter for each New Testament book. Though some may dispute the earlier dates given for some of the papyri (see discussion below), the list accurately reflects the manuscript data (regardless of dates) extant for each New Testament book.
Chapter one, “Introducing the Manuscripts, Text, and Nomina Sacra,” briefly presents the New Testament papyri (p. 20-22) and “Significant Uncial Manuscripts” (p. 22-23). Next, under the heading “Assessing the Manuscripts to Establish the Text of the New Testament,” Comfort orients the reader to the methods used to weigh manuscripts according to their textual “accuracy” (p. 23-29). Under this heading, the textual relationship between P66, P75, and B is surveyed (p. 24-26), and the Alands’ classification of manuscripts into the “strict,” “normal,” “at least normal,” and “free” categories is evaluated (p. 27-28). Comfort then provides some “corrective” to several of the Alands’ classifications and then proposes his own set of terminology in categorizing these papyri (p. 28-29). Following this, under the heading “The Canons of Textual Criticism,” he surveys the internal criteria used by critics to evaluate which reading gave rise to all the others in each variant unit (p. 29-31). The chapter closes by briefly introducing the nomina sacra, which are found within nearly all of the earliest New Testament manuscripts (p. 31-41).
Chapter two, “An Annotated List of the Manuscripts of the New Testament,” presents the 127 New Testament papyri with their editio principes and (for the more significant papyri) a brief analysis of their dates and textual character (p. 41-91). This segment closes with a section subtitled “Other Papyrus Manuscripts,” which discusses the Egerton Gospel, P. Antinoopolis 2.54, P.Oxy 655, and P.Oxy 5073 (p. 91-92). Under the heading “Significant Uncial Manuscripts,” the primary majuscule codices are listed with their editio principes, date, textual make-up, and characteristic features (p. 93-111). Next are listed the most important “Minuscules” with their dates, historical features, characteristics, and textual make-up (p. 11-113). Included under this heading are brief discussions of Family 1 (p. 111-112) and Family 13 (p. 112). Next, “Ancient Versions” are listed with a concise introduction, approximate date when the version first appeared, and, if applicable, the major manuscripts used in consulting the version (p. 115-123). The versions listed are, Syriac, Old Latin, Armenian, Coptic, Ethiopic, Georgian, Gothic, and the translation of the Diatessaron. Chapter two is completed by listing out, with no discussion, the “Church Fathers” consulted in this commentary along with their date (p. 123-124).
The Greek New Testament textual commentary begins in chapter three, which encompasses “The Synoptic Gospels” (p. 127-245). Chapter four deals solely with “The Gospel According to John” (p. 247-276). The “Acts of the Apostles” is discussed in chapter five (p. 277-298). Chapter six examines “The Epistles of Paul” (p. 299-369). Chapter seven is dedicated to the epistle of “Hebrews” (p. 371-382). In chapter eight “The General Epistles” are reviewed (p. 383-403). The textual commentary portion of the volume concludes with chapter nine, “The Revelation of John” (p. 405-413). Between the end of chapter nine and the appendix appears a brief “Select Bibliography” (p. 415-418).
The volume closes with an appendix entitled “The Significance of the Nomina Sacra (Sacred Names)” (p. 419-443). In this appendix, Comfort continues the brief introduction of the nomina sacra found in chapter one. The following nomina sacra abbreviations are discussed in full: “Lord” (p. 419-420), “Jesus” (p. 420-423), “Christ” (p. 423-424), “God” (p. 424-427), and “Spirit” (p. 427-433). The remainder of the appendix discusses other nomina sacra abbreviations found in the New Testament manuscripts under the heading “Other Prominent Divine Names: Father, Son, Son of God, Son of Man, Son of David” (p. 433-441). In the appendix, Comfort argues that the “nomina sacra were intended to be understood only by initiates—i.e., those trained to read and decode the New Testament writings for their congregations” (p. 420). He also states that the “name ‘Jesus’ was treated as a nomen sacrum very early” and that it was likely the “second nomina sacra to be created—following right behind (if not concurrent with) ‘Lord’” (p. 420). Because the scribe of P46 inconsistently employed the nomen sacrum for “Spirit,” Comfort argues that this codex must be early, copied during the “transition” period in which this nomen sacrum was first being developed (p. 428-429).
Those who are familiar with Comfort’s New Testament Text and Translation Commentary (2008) may wish to learn of the similarities and differences between the two volumes. Due to space considerations, it is impossible to evaluate every point of commentary, therefore, this review will limit itself to two well-known variation units: the ending of Mark, and the Pericope de Adultera in John. At nine pages, the commentary on the endings of Mark is quite lengthy (p. 197-206). Comfort discusses the five variation units along with their manuscript, versional, and patristic attestation. The discussion appears to be taken nearly word-for-word from his Text and Translation Commentary. In contrast, though Comfort discusses the manuscript, versional, and patristic evidence, the commentary on the Pericope de Adultera, at two pages (p. 258-259), is highly abridged when compared to his Text and Translation Commentary. Therefore, it appears that some of the material is nearly identical and some an abridgment of the commentary already published in his previous Text and Translation Commentary. Only two features are absent in the current commentary, a list of English Bible translations that contain a particular reading, and the Greek text of the variation units. When variation units are listed, only English translations of the readings are provided.
There are some noteworthy shortcomings to A Commentary on the Manuscripts and Text of the New Testament. Readers may be disappointed to learn that there is no discussion of the Coherence Based Genealogical Method (CBGM), which is now being used by the Institut für Neutestamentliche Textforschung (INTF) to produce the Editio Critica Maior (ECM). Along these same lines, Comfort seems to have completely disregarded the 34 changes in the Catholic (General) Epistles in the ECM that were incorporated into the main text of the NA28. Users who may have Comfort’s new commentary open alongside their NA28 edition of the Greek New Testament will be disappointed that there is absolutely no discussion of theses variations in light of the CBGM. Especially considering the conjectural emendation that has been incorporated into the main text of the NA28 at 2 Peter 3:10.
Significant criticism has already been directed towards Comfort’s other publications with regard to the palaeographic method employed to date some of the papyri earlier than the dates assigned in the NA28. Pasquale Orsini and Willy Clarysse have critiqued Comfort’s tendency to date papyri by comparing single letters and words. Instead, they argue, Comfort should be dating papyri by placing the hand in question within the history of a graphic type (“Early New Testament Manuscripts and Their Dates: A Critique of Theological Palaeography,” ETL 88.4 (2012), p. 450). Comfort has made no attempt to clarify or defend his dating method against these criticisms. Users of this commentary may come away with the (wrong) impression that some of Comfort’s assigned dates are more broadly accepted in the palaeographical community.
With that said, in most cases Comfort’s assigned dates for the papyri align with the standard dates given in the NA28. In some instances, his proposed dates fall on the lower end of the more broadly accepted ranges, or are twenty five to fifty years earlier (see for example P46, P52, P66, and P75). Most non-specialists would not see these differences as significant. At the very least, including the more broadly accepted dates alongside his own would have served better the purpose of a handbook on the manuscripts of the New Testament and would better represent the discipline of palaeography.
Most typographical mistakes are minor and forgivable, however, there is one major error in this commentary that might be distracting for users. It appears that at some point during the planning stages, what is now chapter one “Introducing the Manuscripts, Text, and Nomina Sacra,” was meant to be chapter two. Chapter two, “An Annotated List of the Manuscripts of the New Testament,” gives a detailed list and commentary on the manuscripts of the New Testament, was meant to be chapter one. During the course of the introduction in chapter one, when a particular manuscript is mentioned, the text reads “see discussion above,” presuming readers had already encountered the annotated list of manuscripts, but this annotated list occurs later, in chapter two. Even more confusing, in the appendix, “The Significance of the Nomina Sacra (Sacred Names),” the text reads, “[t]his appendix provides a continued discussion of the Nomina Sacra as presented in chapter two” (p. 419). However, the Nomina Sacra were discussed in chapter one, and readers who may pick up the commentary and turn immediately to the appendix may be confused as to where in the volume they may find the previous discussion of the nomina sacra.
One particularly disappointing error is found in the first paragraph of Chapter One, “Introducing the Manuscripts.” Here Comfort compares the “over 5,500 manuscript copies of the Greek New Testament, or portions thereof.” Boasting that “[n]o other work of Greek literature can boast of such numbers. Homer’s Iliad, the greatest of all Greek classical works, is extant in about 650 manuscripts; and Euripides’s tragedies exist in about 330 manuscripts” (p. 19). Of course, these numbers are woefully out of date. For example, a simple search on Leuven Database of Ancient Books (http://www.trismegistos.org/ldab/) reveals that there are well over 1500 copies of Homer’s Iliad extant. For a work that is purporting to be commentary on manuscripts, this is an unfortunate mistake and hopefully is not representative of other less obvious errors in the rest of the work.
Despite these drawbacks, Comfort’s A Commentary on the Manuscripts and Text of the New Testament is a valuable handbook that can be used alongside Metzger’s A Textual Commentary on the Greek New Testament (2nd ed. 1994) and the NA28. Comfort’s commentary is bound in a similar hardback format with nearly identical dimensions as the NA28, and, along with a ribbon bookmark, makes for a nice companion volume that is easily portable.
The section entitled, “Early Manuscripts” is an excellent reference for quickly determining the earliest manuscript support by chapter for each New Testament book (p. 11-14). This will be particularly useful for pastors, preachers, and students of the New Testament text. It provides a strong visual representation of the manuscript attestation, which for some books, like Matthew and John, is remarkably extensive and early.
Chapter two, “An Annotated List of the Manuscripts of the New Testament,” is nearly worth the price of the volume. It provides a handy reference, especially for non-specialists, who may be working through a particular passage in the New Testament and come across an unfamiliar manuscript or versional sigla in the apparatus. The list of editio principes, date, textual make-up, and characteristic features provide a quick reference for those who wish to examine a specific manuscript in greater detail.
Finally, the most useful feature of this commentary is that it offers a wealth of information on the location of nomina sacra within the manuscript tradition of the New Testament. As far as this reviewer knows, there is no other resource which provides a textual commentary on the nomina sacra in this way. For each New Testament book, Comfort has annotated when a particular manuscript uses a nomina sacra within the text. This feature is a valuable resource for those engaging in a systematic study of the nomina sacra. Comfort highlights these curious scribal features in such a way that many who use this commentary will probably encounter them for the first time.
These features outweigh the shortcomings of the volume and the low price ensures its accessibility for a broader readership. Comfort’s A Commentary on the Manuscripts and Text of the New Testament is a valuable handbook that will prove useful to pastors, preachers, students, and scholars of the New Testament manuscripts and text.

Lucian on Christians and Their Books (165 CE)

Lucian (125-180 CE) was a Syrian satirist and author who wrote his works in Greek and was from the Roman city of Samosata on the banks of the Euphrates river. In one particular work, Lucian wrote about a Cynic philosopher named Peregrinus who had converted over to Christianity in his early years and was imprisoned for his beliefs. In his older years, Peregrinus converted back over to Cynicism and later cremated himself at the Olympic games in 165 CE. Lucian's work is of interest as it is one of the earliest references to Christians by a Roman author. One especially interesting and lengthy description reads;

"It was then that he learned the wondrous lore of the Christians, by associating with their priests and scribes in Palestine. And—how else could it be ?—in a trice he made them all look like children; for he was prophet, cult-leader, head of the synagogue, and everything, all by himself. He interpreted and explained some of their books and even composed many, and they revered him as a god, made use of him as a lawgiver, and set him down as a protector, next after that other, to be sure, whom they still worship, the man who was crucified in Palestine because he introduced this new cult into the world. Then at length [Peregrinus] Proteus was apprehended for this and thrown into prison, which itself gave him no little reputation as an asset for his future career and the charlatanism and notoriety-seeking that he was enamoured of. Well, when he had been imprisoned, the Christians, regarding the incident as a calamity, left nothing undone in the effort to rescue him. Then, as this was impossible, every other form of attention was shown him, not in any casual way but with assiduity; and from the very break of day aged widows and orphan children could be seen waiting near the prison, while their officials even slept inside with him after bribing the guards. Then elaborate meals were brought in, and sacred books of theirs were read aloud, and excellent Peregrinus—for he still went by that name—was called by them 'the new Socrates.'" (Peregr. 11-12)

Of course, Lucian is most likely exaggerating or caricaturing some of the more prominent features of the Christian communities known to him. Even so, Lucian expects his readers to pick up on these salient aspects of Christians in order for the satirical humor to be effective. These features are;

• The community leaders are the priests, scribes, prophets and interpreters of their sacred books.
• Christians were meeting in a particular location; referenced as a "synagogue" by Lucian.
• The centrality of the Christian's worship of the crucified Jesus.
• The imprisonment and persecution of Christians for their beliefs.
• Orphans and widows were a large component of the Christian community.
• Christians visited prisoners and were doing all they could to help them.

One interesting feature of Lucian's description, however, is the prominence given to sacred writings and books. At one point Lucian draws attention to Peregrinus' facility in composing religious writings; no doubt a reference to the prolific output of Christian writings in the first and second centuries. Lucian also highlights the reading-out of sacred books in their community gatherings around Peregrinus while he was imprisoned. Overall, Christians of the second century were recognized by the importance they placed upon their sacred books; studying and interpreting them as well as publicly reading them in their worship gatherings.

Portrait of Lucian from an Early Translation of his Writings

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Lucian, The Passing of Peregrinus. A. M. Harmon (trans.). Vol. V. Loeb Classical Library. Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1962.

Cassiodorus on the Task of the Scribe

Cassiodorus (Gesta Theodorici: Leiden, University Library, Ms. vul. 46, fol. 2r)

Cassiodorus is famous for the foundation of his monastery at Vivarium in southern Italy and the copying of books and manuscripts. These activities, however, occurred later in his life. He spent a large part of his earlier career as a Roman statesman serving the administration of Theodoric the Great. Many of his letters are preserved from this time, and in Book 12, letter 21 we find him writing to a certain Deusdedit, a Scribe of Ravenna, about the duties of a scribe. In one place Cassiodorus declares that;

"Banish, therefore, all thoughts of venality from your mind. The worst moth that gets into papers and destroys them is the gold of the dishonest litigant, who bribes the Scribes to make away with evidence which he knows to be hostile. Thus, then, be ready always to produce to suitors genuine old documents; and, on the other hand, transcribe only, do not compose ancient proceedings. Let the copy correspond to the original as the wax to the signet-ring, that as the face is the index of the emotions so your handwriting may not err from the authentic original in anything." (Ep. 12.21)

The context appears to be that of a courtroom, where the scribe is admitting evidence of some kind (contracts, wills, deeds, and the like) and transcribing the minutes of the court proceedings. I find it particularly telling that Cassiodorus declares that the scribes task is to "transcribe only" and not to "compose." And in relation to the copying of texts, he states, "let the copy correspond to the original" and ensure that the "handwriting may not err from the authentic original in anything."
Though the topic of Cassiodorus's letter primarily concerns the scribes task in the courtroom (a primary task for an official city scribe), I cannot help but think that this gives a glimpse into his attitudes towards the copying of biblical texts later in his life.
_____________________
 
Hodgkin, Thomas, trans. The Letters of Cassiodorus. London: Henry Frowde, 1886. (pg. 511-512)

New Journal Article Published

I have had the honor of having an article published in the latest issue of Bibliotheca Sacra. The article contrasts the ways in which early Christians manufactured their books that contained New Testament writings with the way Romans manufactured their books.

"Christian Papyri and the Ancient Church." Bibliotheca Sacra 173 (April-June 2016): 182-202.

The abstract of the article is as follows:

Modern scholarship and popular media outlets often depict the earliest Christians as holding wildly divergent beliefs about Jesus and as reading and writing secret gospels that never made it into the New Testament. This view fails to consider the material re-mains of early Christian manuscripts from the second and third centuries that have been discovered in Egypt. These manuscripts mainly consist of New Testament writings and contain certain paralinguistic and formatting features that highlight unique socio-cultural aspects of the early Christians that stand in stark contrast to these modern theories of Christian origins.

Did Justin Martyr Make Reference to Mark?

Recently, the radio show "Unbelievable" aired a debate between noted New Testament scholars Bart Ehrman and Richard Bauckham. The debate centered around Ehrman's new book "Jesus Before the Gospels" where Ehrman contends that the stories about Jesus were circulated, altered, and invented by the followers of Jesus before they were written down. Bauckham, provides a counter-argument, where, in his book "Jesus and the Eyewitnesses," he has argued that the Gospels were written within "living memory" of those eyewitnesses of Jesus' ministry and these Gospels are based upon this testimony.
During this spirited discussion Ehrman mentions the second century Church figure Justin Martyr (140's CE) who makes reference throughout his writings to the "memoirs of the apostles." In regard to this, at 48:43, Ehrman states that  "he doesn't call them by our Gospels. . . the only memoir he names is the memoirs of Peter. . . he's talking about the Gospel of Peter."
The reference that Ehrman is referring to is Justin Martyr's comments in his Dialogue with Trypho;

“And when it is said that He changed the name of one of the apostles to Peter; and when it is written in the memoirs of Him that this so happened, as well as that He changed the names of other two brothers, the sons of Zebedee, to Boanerges, which means sons of thunder. . ." (Dia. 106; ANF)

Justin is referring to the memoirs of Peter and he is loosely quoting an incident recorded in this "memoir." That Jesus changed the name of an apostle to Peter and the names of two others to "Boanerges." In all of the Gospels, this account can only be found in the Gospel of Mark at 3:16-17;

"He appointed the twelve: Simon (to whom he gave the name Peter); James the son of Zebedee and John the brother of James (to whom he gave the name Boanerges, that is, Sons of Thunder);" (ESV)

 No where in the Gospel of Peter is this account of the naming of Peter and the sons of Zebedee mentioned (Hill, 133-134). Therefore, contrary to Ehrman's claims, Justin Martyr can only be referring to the Gospel of Mark and here he connects it to Peter, independently verifying Papias' famous comments on the origins of Mark's Gospel;

"And the Elder used to say this: 'Mark, having become Peter's interpreter, wrote down accurately everything he remembered, though not in order, of the things either said or done by Christ. For he neither heard the Lord nor followed him, but afterward, as I said, followed Peter, who adapted his teachings as needed but had no intention of giving an ordered account of the Lord's sayings. Consequently Mark did nothing wrong in writing down some things as he remembered them, for he made it his one concern not omit anything which he heard or to make any false statement in them." (Eusebius Hist. eccl. 3.39; Holmes, 569)

Here are at least two independent sources, one from the late first century (Papias) and one from  mid second century (Justin Martyr) that point to a common understanding in the early Church; that the Gospel of Mark was sourced in the testimony of the apostle Peter.

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Hill, C. E. Who Chose the Gospels: Probing the Great Gospel Conspiracy. New York: Oxford University Press, 2010.

Holmes, Michael W., ed. The Apostolic Fathers: Greek texts and English translations. Grand Rapids: Baker Books, 1999.

The Staurogram and The Epistle of Barnabas: Further Discussion

In a previous post, the comments of Dr. Brent Nongbri in reference to the staurogram and its place in a third century manuscript were taken up. At issue is whether Christian scribes of the second and third centuries were experimenting with images of Jesus on the cross in their art and worship practices. Dr. Nonbgri argued that,

"At the very least, such experimentation with cruciform imagery [in the staurogram] would appear less out of place in the fourth century than in the late second or early third century. (pg. 33-34)"

These observations are striking when looking at the many references in early Christian writings of the second and third century; Minucius Felix, Tertullian, Clement of Alexandria, and the author of the Epistle of Barnabas. These authors mention the cross and cross shapes as venerated symbols of Christian identity. Yet, it is argued by Nongbri, each of these early Christian examples are merely allusions to the cross and its shape and not to the image of the crucified Jesus, which scholars purport the staurogram to be.
There was an oft repeated story in early Christian literature that may serve to illustrate that the image of Jesus as a crucified figure on the cross was a familiar Christian icon. In the Epistle of Barnabas, reference is made to to the story of Israel defeating the armies of Amalek in Exodus 17:8-13. In this account, Moses lifted up his hands as a sign to the Lord; when his hands were held aloft, Israel was victorious, when his hands fell to his side, Amalek was victorious. Aaron and Hur eventually held Moses' hands aloft as he grew weary and the Israelites won the battle. In light of this story, the Epistle of Barnabas (70-135 CE) wrote;

"Once again you have a reference about the cross and about him who was destined to be crucified. And again he speaks to Moses, when war was being waged against Israel by foreigners, and in order that he might remind those being attacked that they had been handed over to death because of their sins, the Spirit says to the heart of Moses that he should make a symbol of the cross and of him who was destined to suffer because, he is saying, unless they place their hope in him, war shall be waged against them forever. Therefore Moses piled one shield upon another in the midst of the battle, and standing high above them all he stretched out his hands, and so Israel was again victorious. But whenever he lowered them, the men began to be killed. Why so? So that they might learn that they cannot be saved unless they place their hope in him. (12:1-3)"

There are some aspects of this story that bear reflection. First, the Epistle of Barnabas assumes that Moses raised his hands horizontally, in the shape of the cross, and this is mentioned in such a way that this must have been a familiar Christian interpretation of this story. And second, the Epistle of Barnabas specifically references this as a symbol of the crucified Jesus and not just of the cross. At one point Barnabas uses the word "suffer" (πασχειν) (12:2) and the middle/passive infinitive (σταυρουσθαι) to refer to this event as a reference to Jesus (12:1). It is clear that Barnabas was viewing the imagery of Moses standing with arms outstretched as a visual representation of Jesus suffering on the cross.

Moses with outstretched hands as a symbol of Jesus on the cross

This story in Barnabas is set in the midst of several allegorical references to the cross that were found in the familiar passages and stories of the Old Testament. At Barnabas 8:1,5; 9:7; 11:1,8; and 13:5. In each of these other references the cross is mentioned as a stand alone representation of salvation with no visualization of the crucified Jesus. However, at 12:1-3, specific mention is made to the imagery of Moses with outstretched hands as a visual representation of the suffering Jesus on the cross.
Though, there is no specific reference to scribes taking this iconography and creating a staurogram, the impetus for doing so is already present in Barnabas some 80-100 years before it is found, represented by the staurogram, in the texts of P66, P45, and P75. The reverence for Jesus and the cross was already tied to a textual representation in the nomina sacra at Barn. 9:7-8. It takes no stretch of the imagination to conclude that a visual representation of Jesus on the cross, as found at Barn. 12:1-3, would find expression in a staurogram.

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Holmes, Michael W., ed. The Apostolic Fathers: Greek texts and English translations. Grand Rapids: Baker Books, 1999.

Hurtado, Larry W. Lord Jesus Christ: Devotion to Jesus in Earliest Christianity. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2005.

Hurtado, Larry W. The Earliest Christian Artifacts: Manuscripts and Christian Origins. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2006.

Longenecker, Bruce W. The Cross Before Constantine The Early Life of a Christian Symbol. Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2015.

Nongbri, Brent. “The Limits of Palaeographic Dating of Literary Papyri: Some Observations on the Date and Provenance of P. Bodmer II (P66),” Museum Helveticum 71 (2014): 1-35.

P. Bodmer II (P66), and the Staurogram

During the last few years there has been a pushback against some of the early dates posited for Christian New Testament papyri. Scholars such as Pasquale Orsini, Willy Clarysse, Don Barker, Roger Bagnall, and Brent Nongbri have criticized the theological and apologetic motivations behind some of these early dates. To be sure, many of these criticisms are valid as there have been some extraordinarily early and narrow dating ranges proposed for a few of the papyri such as P46 (an early collection of Paul's epistles) and P52 (an early copy of the Gospel of John). However, in regard to a few of these recent pushbacks, perhaps the pendulum has swung too far in the other direction. This can be seen in Brent Nongbri's article,

“The Limits of Palaeographic Dating of Literary Papyri: Some Observations on the Date and Provenance of P. Bodmer II (P66),” Museum Helveticum 71 (2014): 1-35."

In this piece Nongbri criticized the narrow "ca. 200 CE" date traditionally assigned to P. Bodmer II (here after simply referred to as P66), contending that palaeography does not allow for such a narrow time frame. Instead, he argued, palaeography only permits a date of composition sometime between the late second century and the early fourth century CE. Nongbri then examined the codicological evidence and provenance to propose a date at the later end of this range, that is, a date in the early fourth century. While the article masterfully questioned the warrant for the traditional dating of P66, I was surprised to find the following comments concerning the presence of the staurogram in the manuscript;

At several points in the fragmentary final pages of P.Bodmer II, forms of the terms σταυρος and σταυροω are abbreviated in a manner that involves combining the letters tau and rho to form a monogram, generally referred to as a staurogram. . . . Larry Hurtado and others have plausibly argued that these examples of the staurogram should be interpreted as visual representation of the crucifixion of Jesus. If this understanding is correct, then this fact would point to a date for the production of this codex in the fourth century, when Christian use of the imagery of crucifixion begins to become more common. Hurtado, assuming a date of “ca. 200 CE” for P.Bodmer II, argued that the appearance of the staurogram in this manuscript, and in the Chester Beatty Gospels-Acts codex (P45) and P.Bodmer XIV-XV (P75), provided proof of Christian use of the imagery of the crucifixion in the form of the tau-rho monogram at least as early as the final decades of the second century, and quite plausibly somewhat earlier. Yet, in light of the evidence laid out above, it would seem more prudent to interpret this feature as further support for a fourth century date for P.Bodmer II. At the very least, such experimentation with cruciform imagery would appear less out of place in the fourth century than in the late second or early third century. (pg. 33-34)

What surprised me was Nongbri's declaration that the staurogram "would appear less out of place in the fourth century than in the late second or early third century." Does Nongbri's assertion accurately reflect Christian attitudes in the second and third centuries? Would second and third century Christians be unlikely to visualize their reverence for the crucifixion in a pictogram embedded in the text of a Biblical manuscript? In order to answer these questions the discussion will now turn to a few Christian authors of the second and third centuries.

Marcus Minucius Felix (ca. 210 CE)
Very little is known about the Christian apologist Marcus Minucius Felix. According to Jerome, Minucius Felix lived in Rome and worked as a "solicitor" (Vir. ill. 58). He is known exclusively through his sole surviving work known simply as Octavius. The date of Octavius is uncertain, and scholars have placed its composition somewhere between the late second century and the early third century. In other words, its composition is roughly contemporaneous with the traditional "ca. 200 CE" dating of P66. The writing records a dialogue between two protagonists, the pagan Caecilius Natalis and the Christian Octavius Januarius with Marcus Minucius Felix acting as the moderator. During the interchange, Caecilius accused Christians of several debase acts. One of these detestable acts he described as follows;

I know not whether these things are false; certainly suspicion is applicable to secret and nocturnal rites; and he who explains their ceremonies by reference to a man punished by extreme suffering for his wickedness, and to the deadly wood of the cross, appropriates fitting altars for reprobate and wicked men, that they may worship what they deserve. (Oct. 9; ANF 4:177)

Caecilius made note that Christians worshiped the cross and the cruel act of crucifixion. In response to these charges, Octavius countered;

For in that you attribute to our religion the worship of a criminal and his cross, you wander far from the neighbourhood of the truth, in thinking either that a criminal deserved, or that an earthly being was able, to be believed God. . . . Crosses, moreover, we neither worship nor wish for. You, indeed, who consecrate gods of wood, adore wooden crosses perhaps as parts of your gods. For your very standards, as well as your banners; and flags of your camp, what else are they but crosses gilded and adorned? Your victorious trophies not only imitate the appearance of a simple cross, but also that of a man affixed to it. We assuredly see the sign of a cross, naturally, in the ship when it is carried along with swelling sails, when it glides forward with expanded oars; and when the military yoke is lifted up, it is the sign of a cross; and when a man adores God with a pure mind, with hands outstretched. Thus the sign of the cross either is sustained by a natural reason, or your own religion is formed with respect to it.(Oct. 29; ANF 4:191).

Octavius denied that Christians worshiped a criminal and his cross, but rather, they worshiped Jesus as God, and his provision of eternal salvation found in the crucifixion. What is interesting in Octavius' response is his reference to the "T" or cross shapes that can be seen in the various objects described. Octavius was pointing to a familiar Christian symbol, "the sign of the cross," and pagans unknowingly worshiped the crucifixion through these hidden cross symbols that could be found in every day objects.
The symbol of a cross must have been commonly associated with late second and early third century Christians in Rome, otherwise Caecilius' accusations and Octavius' rebuttal would make little sense.

Tertullian of Carthage (ca. 145-220 CE)
In the midst of a plea that tradition should have some authority in Christian practice, Tertullian mentioned a curious Christian tradition,

At every forward step and movement, at every going in and out, when we put on our clothes and shoes, when we bathe, when we sit at table, when we light the lamps, on couch, on seat, in all the ordinary actions of daily life, we trace upon the forehead the sign. (Cor. 3; ANF 3:94–95)

The sign that Tertullian was referring to was the cross or "T" shaped symbol traced upon the forehead. In his famous Apology, Tertullian mentioned the symbol of the cross as a familiar aspect of Christian worship in North Africa.

Then, if any of you think we render superstitious adoration to the cross, in that adoration he is sharer with us. . . . We have shown before that your deities are derived from shapes modeled from the cross. But you also worship victories, for in your trophies the cross is the heart of the trophy. The camp religion of the Romans is all through a worship of the standards, a setting the standards above all gods. Well, as those images decking out the standards are ornaments of crosses. All those hangings of your standards and banners are robes of crosses. I praise your zeal: you would not consecrate crosses unclothed and unadorned. (Apol. 16; ANF 3:31)

With a little humor mixed in Tertullian was making a similar argument that Minucius Felix made through the mouth of Octavius, that is, the cross, or "T" shaped symbol, could be seen throughout many venerated pagan objects. Thus, pagans inadvertently worshiped the crucifixion in the same manner as Christians.
In North Africa, during the same time period as the traditional date given to P66, "ca. 200 CE," Tertullian could confidently refer to the cross, or "T" shaped symbol as an intricate component of Christian worship and practice.

Clement of Alexandria (ca. 153-217 CE) and the Epistle of Barnabas (ca. 70-135 CE)
In his third work on the Christian life, Stromata ("miscellaneous"), Clement loosely quoted from an even earlier Christian source, the Epistle of Barnabas. Both Christian writings referred to a passage found at Genesis 14:14.,

When Abram heard that his relative had been taken captive, he led out his trained men, born in his house, three hundred and eighteen, and went in pursuit as far as Dan. (NASB)

In the Greek number system 300 was designated by the Greek letter tau, a "T" shaped letter, and 18 was designated by the Greek letter combination iota and eta. In the majascule hand used in Biblical manuscripts of the day, the number 18 would have looked like "IH" which was a common abbreviated nomina sacra form of Jesus' name found in New Testament manuscripts of the second and third centuries. The "T" shape of the tau was seen as representing the cross, and thus, salvation by the death of Jesus on the cross (see the discussion in Larry Hurtado's Earliest Christian Artifacts, 113-114).
In the midst of discussing Christian symbology, Clement, in his Stromata, wrote concerning Genesis 14:14,

As then in astronomy we have Abraham as an instance, so also in arithmetic we have the same Abraham.“For, hearing that Lot was taken captive, and having numbered his own servants, born in his house, 318,” he defeats a very great number of the enemy. They say, then, that the character representing 300 is, as to shape, the type of the Lord’s sign, and that the Iota and the Eta indicate the Saviour’s name; that it was indicated, accordingly, that Abraham’s domestics were in salvation, who having fled to the Sign and the Name became lords of the captives, and of the very many unbelieving nations that followed them. (Strom. 6.11; ANF 2:500)

The cross, or "T" shaped symbol, had become so familiar in Alexandrian Christianity that Clement could simply refer to it as "the Lord's sign."
The author of the Epistle of Barnabas, writing nearly one hundred years earlier than Clement, referred to this account in Genesis 14:14 (and 17:23) in the following manner,

Learn abundantly, therefore, children of love, about everything: Abraham, who first instituted circumcision, looked forward in the spirit to Jesus when he circumcised, having received the teaching of the three letters. For it says: "And Abaraham circumcised ten and eight and three hundred men of his household." What, then, is the knowledge that was given to him? Observe that it mentions the "ten and eight" first, and then after an interval the "three hundred." As for the "ten and eight," the I is ten and the H is eight; thus you have "Jesus." And because the cross, which is shaped like the T, was  destined to convey grace, it mentions also the "three hundred." So he reveals Jesus in the two letters, and the cross in the other one. He who placed within us the implanted gift of his covenant understands. (Barn. 9.7-8; Holmes, Apostolic Fathers, 299)

As early as the beginning of the second century, the author of the Epistle of Barnabas could discuss the "T" shaped form of the Greek letter tau that all Christians would recognize as a clear reference to the cross, and salvation. Therefore, nearly one hundred years before the traditional date of "ca. 200 CE" assigned to P66, Christians were drawing theological meaning and worshipful devotion from the "T" shaped cross symbol.

Conclusion
As can be seen from the discussion above, for Christians of the second and third centuries, the cross, or "T" shape, had significant meaning as a visual representation of the salvation found in Jesus' crucifixion. Thus, Christians saw the cross in many "T" shaped objects of everyday life, and therefore drew spiritual meaning from this crucifix symbol. Christians made the sign of the cross on their foreheads at the beginning of the third century and drew theological and spiritual meaning from "T" shape of the Greek letter tau in their Biblical manuscripts from at least the beginning of the second century onward.
Very often, Christian worship practices found expression in the manner in which they manufactured their New Testament manuscripts. The public reading of the Old and New Testaments was clearly referenced as early as Justin Martyr in Rome (Apol. 1.67; ca. 140 CE), and was alluded to in the first century writings of Paul (see previous post). This aspect of Christian public reading of scriptures can be seen in the copious reading aids found in Biblical manuscripts of the second and third centuries and beyond. Coupled with this, Jesus and God were revered and worshiped in Christianity from the first century onward (see Larry Hurtado, Lord Jesus Christ). This worship and devotion can be seen expressed in the nomina sacra abbreviations used in the Christian papyri of the second and third century and beyond.
If each of these central Christian practices found expression in the manufacture of their Biblical papyri, then, we should see some form of this early Christian reverence for the cross, or "T" shape, in the Biblical papyri as well. Therefore, the staurogram appears in several manuscripts near the "ca. 200 CE" time period that the cross, or "T" shape, is expressed as having significance in Christian devotion by Minucius Felix, Tertullian, and Clement. Namely, the New Testament codices P66, P45, and P75. Contrary to the doubts expressed by Brent Nongbri, the staurogram is not "out of place," but rather is right at home, in second and third century Christianity.

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References Cited

Holmes, Michael W., ed. The Apostolic Fathers: Greek texts and English translations. Grand Rapids: Baker Books, 1999.

Hurtado, Larry W. Lord Jesus Christ: Devotion to Jesus in Earliest Christianity. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2005.

Hurtado, Larry W. The Earliest Christian Artifacts: Manuscripts and Christian Origins. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2006.

Nongbri, Brent. “The Limits of Palaeographic Dating of Literary Papyri: Some Observations on the Date and Provenance of P. Bodmer II (P66),” Museum Helveticum 71 (2014): 1-35.

P. Bodmer II, P66, at John Chapter 1

The Staurogram in P75 at Luke 14:27