“Reading in Ancient Rome”

My very first blog post at Triablogue dealt with the oral performance of the Gospel of Matthew, and how it very well could account for the odd wording of the phrase in Matthew 16, “you are Peter, and on this rock …”: R.T. France had come to the conclusion that “this rock” could only be Peter, for a reason like this:

Here is one of France’s justifications for his conclusion:

A second escape route, beloved especially by those who wish to refute the claims of the Roman Catholic Church based on the primacy of Peter as the first pope, is to assert that the foundation rock is not Peter himself, but the faith in Jesus as Messiah which he has just declared. If that was what Jesus intended, he has chosen his words badly, as the wordplay points decisively toward Peter, who whom personally he has just given the name, as the rock, and there is nothing in his statement to suggest otherwise. Even more bizarre is the supposition that Jesus, having declared Simon to be Petros, then pointed instead to himself when he said the words “this rock” (“The Gospel of Matthew,” R.T. France, Grand Rapids, MI/Cambridge, U.K.: William B.Eerdmans Publishing Company, ©2007, pg622).

Now, sometimes even “top evangelical New Testament scholars” need a whack on the back of the head. There is no question that Peter was important. But many notable patristic interpretations of this verse hold that “this rock” was not Peter, but rather, Peter’s confession. Among others, Augustine said “Upon this rock, said the Lord, I will build my Church. Upon this confession, upon this that you said, ‘You are the Christ, the Son of the living God,’ I will build my Church, and the gates of hell shall not conquer her” (John Rotelle, Ed., The Works of Saint Augustine (New Rochelle: New City, 1993) Sermons, Volume III/7, Sermon 236A.3, p. 48, from here). And following this interpretation, it’s a standard Protestant understanding that “this rock” did not refer to Peter, but rather to Peter’s confession of Jesus as “the son of the Living God”. …

But look again at the rationale that Dr. France uses to dismiss the idea that “this Rock” is not Peter. “Even more bizarre is the supposition that Jesus, having declared Simon to be Petros, then pointed instead to himself when he said the words ‘this rock.’”

That’s a dramatic gesture, and while it may or may not have made sense for Jesus to have made those hand gestures, if one understands that first century Palestine was an “oral culture,” and that oral delivery and rhetoric had much more importance in that day than our day, then the hand gestures take on an important new meaning….

If Peter is not “this rock” but rather, a smaller rock, then that has serious ramifications Rome’s already shaky authority structure. 

Larry Hurtado has had a couple of blog posts now in a couple of days going into this topic of the oral, rhetorical nature of the Gospels:

Yesterday I complained that some offering claims about texts and reading in antiquity didn’t take adequate account of important material evidence, citing the data offered in manuscripts that indicate how they were used.  Specifically, many Christian manuscripts of biblical texts come from the copyist with various “reader’s aids” that were clearly intended to facilitate reading the manuscript.  This shows that people actually read from manuscripts, and weren’t forced to memorize texts and deliver them from memory.

This may well account for some of the “additions” to later manuscripts that weren’t in earlier manuscripts.

Another body of material evidence even more overlooked (to my knowledge) is comprised of the many visual representations of people using texts from the ancient world.  These are paintings, reliefs and sculptures.  These show us the implements used to copy texts, the postures taken in doing so, private and public reading of texts, etc. 

So far as I know (and I would love for someone to correct me), the major collection of this visual evidence is in a very old book:  Theodor Birt, Die Buchrolle in der Kunst:  Archaeologische-antiquarische Untersuchungen zum antiken Buchwesen (Leipzig:  Teubner, 1907; reprint, Hildesheim/New York:  Georg Olms, 1976).   Roughly translated:  “The Bookroll in Art:  Archaeological and Antiquarian Investigations of Ancient Book Culture”.  There are some 190 illustrations (photos and drawings of items).  The timespan ranges from ancient Egypt through late Roman antiquity. 

Specifically relevant to the issue with which I’m concerned (did people read aloud from manuscripts in group settings), Birt provides us ancient visual depictions of such events, with one person reading and others in the group engaging in discussion of the text.  These correspond to the references to the reading-occasions in ancient literature so deftly discussed recently by William A. Johnson, Readers and Reading Culture in the High Roman Empire: A Study of Elite Communities (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2010).

Those of us used to printed leaf-books and whose acquaintance with Greek or Latin is solely through printed editions (which typically include modern punctuation and lots of other aids, and most importantly have word-separation) will likely find ancient manuscripts difficult to read.  But it is an error to assume (as, unfortunately, some do) that our difficulty equals that of ancients (for whom “scriptio continua“, i.e., words written without separation, for example, was common). 

Fortunately, Birt’s book has been reprinted a few times (especially in the 1976 reprint mentioned above).  Unfortunately, however, the reprint is a much-reduced size, which means that the illustrations are smaller.  Also, the quality of some photos has suffered.  But, overall, there are plenty of illustrations clear enough to be of value to anyone seriously interested in the use of books in antiquity.

Now here’s a project for someone, perhaps a PhD student in Art History.  What are we to make of the visual depictions of people with a roll and others with a codex?  I have some observations and ideas, but I haven’t made an exhaustive search of relevant items.  I don’t think there are any depictions of “high status” individuals (e.g., emperors and other high figures, philosophers, etc.) with a codex prior to the 4th century CE.  There are likely reasons for that.

But after the “triumph” of Christianity in the 4th century CE, in Christian art thereafter we have figures sometimes depicted with a roll and sometimes (and/or other figures) with a codex.  I can point to depictions of Jesus sometimes with a roll and sometimes with a codex.  Is there an iconographic significance to these choices?  And could someone do a full (or at least large) inventory and analysis (if it hasn’t been done)?

I think this is a fascinating area of study that will further serve to erode Rome’s claims to being the structural center of “the Church that Christ Founded®”