Yearn

Today, I found myself with a particular interest in listening to Shane and Shane. I enjoy their music, especially the songs original to them because the lyrics and music are often so centered on the Christian’s unintelligible desire to . . . uh . . . well, it’s hard to put into words. It is what I imagine that Romans 8:26-30 is talking about when it speaks of the groaning of the Spirit inside the Christian. I’ll do my best to describe it. It is that deep longing to know God in his fullness, to know and love him and his plan, the fear that I won’t or can’t or may be distracted by things – even good things but lesser things – that will somehow replace the good longing for God. It is the desire that accompanies the new birth and the presence of the Spirit and causes a human to become a worshiper of God. It is the testimony of the Spirit that the revelation of God is true, that the gospel really is the hope of the world. It is the hatred of my flesh that limits my ability to experience God and at the same time the thankfulness for the Spirit who has caused me to begin to know God, my Creator and my Redeemer. It is that longing of a pastor who feels the weight of a burden from God but like Peter looks at the waves of the world and fears that he won’t be able to keep his gaze on the Lord let alone lead others in this tumultuous tempest, so in his desperation he cries out to God about his fears and his yearning. It is even the yearning of the scholarly heart that loves God, has been given gifts of knowledge and understanding, but fears being crushed by finite-ness, fears believing error, feels the burden of seeking truth at whatever the cost, and is weighed down by the calling to equip Christ’s Church knowing that suffering precedes glory in such an endeavor.

I love music. It moves and teaches us in ways that other ways of communication simply cannot. It’s able to say things otherwise incommunicable. Listen to this song, and let it minister to you today. Listen to it in a place where it’s just you and God listening in. Cry if you need to. Pray and worship God. There is a particular moment in the video in which I especially connect with the yearning of Shane and Shane (the one on the right, especially). Watch closely from 3:26-3:30 in the video. In that moment, he seems to come to a place where he’s got nothing left. He’s laid it all before God – he’s naked and needy before the Lord. All the emotions, knowledge, fears, burdens, callings, dreams, worries, etc have been exposed and humbly laid at God’s feet. There is nothing left to do but lean on the Lord, depend upon him, and worship.

 

T. D. Jakes Shifts to Orthodox Trinitarianism?

Parchment and Pen just published a new blog post in response to an interview with T. D. Jakes via the Elephant Room. For those of you who are unaware, Jakes has long been identified as a Modalist, which is an unorthodox and destructive theological view concerning God. Modalism teaches that God is one and that the Father, Son, and Spirit are roles in redemptive history of the one God. For the Modalist, the Father, Son, and Spirit are NOT three distinct and eternally existing persons. Orthodox Trinitarianism describes God as one God who eternally exists as three persons.

As you read the article, you’ll notice that Jakes states that he does not particularly like the term “persons” in the Orthodox description. He is not alone in this – Calvin and Barth apparently didn’t “favorite” the term either. However, his preference for the term “manifestations” is – in my opinion – terribly unhelpful. Yet, Jakes does claim a distinction between the Father and the Son. For example, he does believe that the Father died on the cross (patripassianism), according to the interview.

It may be that Jakes has taken a step toward orthodoxy here; it was encouraging to hear him say that reading the Bible caused him to shift his view of God. However, some of his comments still make me a bit uncomfortable. Let me just say it this way, when it comes to the Trinity, there are some things that you can say and there are some things that you can’t say. Take a look at the blog post on Parchment and Pen and the interview with the Elephant Room.

Martin Luther in The Bondage of the Will — Post #1

I just finished Luther’s opening response to Erasmus of Rotterdam in The Bondage of the Will. Luther raises an interesting conundrum at the end of this opening section. Is the post-fall human will in such a state that it may strive and attain to salvation, and at the same time, can it be true that “without the mercy of God the will is ineffective”? He also argues that it is essential to know the answer to this, stating that to shove this debate into the realm of unknowable mystery, ambiguity, or obscurity leaves humanity stranded, not knowing what is truly efficacious or inefficacious, what is active and what is passive in salvation.

Where do you stand in this debate?

Should We Bid Farewell to the Academic Paper?

Should We Bid Farewell to the Academic Paper?.

Interesting read for those interested in higher education. With what do you agree? With what do you disagree?

Ancient Lead Books Hoopla: Ancient Codices Discovered May Date to Beginning of Christianity

If you haven’t heard, a cache of 70 metal (some lead, some copper, maybe other materials) codices has been “discovered” that may date to the first century. If the codices are authentic (or at least some of them), they may provide new insights into the infancy of the Christian Church. However, one of the codices is almost certainly a forgery, and David Elkington (about whom you can read in the links provided) does not seem to be too reputable a person. The best thing that can happen is for these codices to make it into the hands of professionals and scholars so that we may know what exactly has been presented to the public. If you have come across other helpful links, please provide them in the comment section.

http://www.foxnews.com/scitech/2011/03/30/ancient-books-uncovered-jordan/?cmpid=cmty_fb_Gigya_Ancient_Books_Uncovered_in_Jordan_May_Date_to_Start_of_Christianity

http://www.jpost.com/MiddleEast/Article.aspx?id=214895

http://blog.bibleplaces.com/2011/03/early-christian-lead-books-discovery.html

http://paleojudaica.blogspot.com/2011_03_27_archive.html#7454369078247746754

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-1372741/Hidden-cave-First-portrait-Jesus-1-70-ancient-books.html?ito=feeds-newsxml

Review #4 (Final) of Roger Bagnall’s Early Christian Books In Egypt (2009)

As I perused my SBL catalogue late last night, I was pleased to discover that Roger Bagnall will be a part of a panel discussion at this year’s annual meeting for the Society of Biblical Literature. The discussion centers around what has been the most prominent topic on this blog for a number of weeks—Early Christian Books in Egypt (Bagnall, 2009). I have “marked up” my copy of Bagnall’s book, and I am eager to listen to the panel discussion.

Bagnall Panel Discussion at 2010 SBL

Chapter four of Bagnall’s book opens with a question/statement with which I wrestle each day I put the “fingers to the keyboard” to write my thesis—”[you] may be wondering if there really is anything new of any value to be said about the origins and spread of the codex” [brackets mine] (70). For my infantile experience in codicology has taken me to the highest of heights thinking that I may have discovered some new idea only to later come crashing down as I continue to read the work of others and find out that my ideas are not new but old hat. However, I believe that scholars must be faithful in the work, organizing available data in order to serve others and create the best possible resources from which a typology of the codex can be developed, updated and maintained.

With perseverance, Bagnall takes up the age-old question of the origin and spread of the codex. He is right to emphasize that the transition from the roll to the codex was not simply due to convenience, but rather cultural and social factors must have also played a part in what appears to have been a monumental shift. He dismisses, perhaps once and for all, the notion that Christians were directly responsible for the origin of the codex (71). He agrees with Hurtado in The Earliest Christian Artifacts (which I have recently discovered is a must read for those with an interest in the study of the codex) that while Christians seemed to have had a distinct association with the codex, the codex form did not originate from Christianity. Bagnall demonstrates this concept in the discussion and tables found on pages 71–79. In light of the evidence, Bagnall concludes concerning Christian association with the codex,

The codex was this not so much adopted generally by the early Christians for their book production; rather, the Christians adopted the codex as the normative format of deliberately produced public copies of scriptural texts, but they did not generalize from this adoption to broader use for all books (78).

Here, Bagnall goes so far as to say that with regard to Scripture, Christians did not use the codex as merely a tendency but as a rule (79).

At this point, the chapter makes a significant shift toward the discussion of the origin and reason for the adoption of the codex form by Christians (and also the rest of the ancient world) (79–90). While some recent insights were certainly helpful and interesting—such as the work of William Johnson regarding the relationship between the Greek book roll and the cognitive process—I must admit that I found Bagnall’s conclusion deflating. After dismissing some of the traditional views for the origin of the codex (80–1), he eventually “parks his car” in the lot of Romanization; that is, “the spread of Roman habits and technology throughout the empire” led to the origin and spread of the codex (87–91).

His dismisses the traditional views based upon two criteria, one of which being that while the church was looking for a particular type of text to “reproduce in codex form,” it is inappropriate to suggest that any confidence in an emerging canon led to the adoption of the form. I slightly disagree that this is so easily dismissed. The early Church did not need absolute certainty in order to confidently place books that they viewed as important in some sort of beginning stages of a “canon.” Bagnall himself refers to some sort of “emerging canon,” which is exactly what it would have been—there’s room for flexibility in such a thing.

He moves toward his conclusion of Romanization by means of two thoughtful examples: (1) social and cultural reading habits and (2) an example of a “cross-section” of texts from The Theban Magical Library. Regarding the former, Bagnall employs the discussion in order to help the reader feel the cultural significance of such a shift from roll to codex. This shift was not a minor thing. For example, a shift from say a Dell to a Mac does not adequately illustrate the shift, rather a shift from a computer to some new form of technology is perhaps a better illustration. Regarding the latter, the stash of handbooks that make up The Theban Magical Library demonstrate a very clear shift from the roll to the codex as time moved from the third to the fourth century A.D. What would have caused the practitioner to make the shift from the roll form of his, perhaps, inherited magical texts to the codex form?

“Privatization of magic” from the temple to the home is likely. What is unlikely is that someone like the owner of these magical texts made the shift due to the influence of Christianity! Rather, as Bagnall suggests, one force most likely served as the overarching influence for both Christians and the practitioner of magic—the hand of the empire.

The codex may be one of the signs of just how Roman the world of early Christianity was (88).

While I do not doubt the authority nor the popularity as resources available to the empire to inaugurate such a change, I do have two challenges to such a view. First, how does this explain the stealth with which Christians adopted the form and the reluctance of others in the Roman empire? I believe this must be answered prior to accepting Bagnall’s (also that of Roberts and Skeat) conclusion as the only factor determining such a shift. It would seem as though the result would have been just the opposite—others first, then perhaps Christians. Bagnall attempts to address this (87); however, I find his reasoning—that Christians would have preferred the Roman model for literature more preferable than the Greek (or Jewish) formats—weak. Second, he further mentions that the spread of the codex form seems to have accompanied the spread of Latin, which may be so; however, we are dealing with Greek text in the ancient papyri, not Latin, so what does this mean for the form used as the text’s container? Bagnall is to be commended for his integrity when he says,

I realize that I have not offered so much an explanation of the adoption of the codex for Christian scriptures as a description of the cultural milieu in which this adoption took place.

I sense in this statement the frustration that I find elsewhere in writings concerning the codex—its origin continues to be an elusive mystery.

Before closing, Bagnall does make one final stab at his critics by reminding them of his opening chapter. Is it possible that the Roman church played a key role in the dissemination of the codex form to other Christian communities—particularly those in Egypt? Such a theory demands that we are not careless about the dating of early Christian books in Egypt! Suppose that the earliest Christian books in Egypt do not go back to the second century?

Simply a great work. Thanks is due to Roger S. Bagnall for this tiny but significant piece of work for those with an interest in codicological studies. Including end notes, bibliography and indices, the total number of pages is 110—well worth your time. Prof. Bagnall, if you’re out there, I look forward to hearing the discussion today. May God bless you for your gift to Christians and others who benefit from your research and hard work.

Creative and Insightful Reading of Mark 5:25-34

In the most recent edition of the Journal of Biblical Literature (v. 129, no. 3, pp. 507-19) published by the Society of Biblical Literature, Candida R. Moss has put forth an intriguing reading of the Markan account of the woman who had a 12-year struggle with a discharge of blood. In the article, she briefly surveys scholarly interpretations of the pericope, and she demonstrates that many have observed a magic motif (such as in Acts 19:11-12) as a required framework for understanding the narrative. Moss then proceeds to discuss “Ancient Medical Models of the Body.” Of particular interest to her re-interpretation of the pericope is the ancient idea that the body, especially a feminine body, is porous. Ancient medics and philosophers had competing opinions about the positive and/or negative aspects about the human body’s porousness. Positively, porosity allowed for unhealthy things to leave and healthy things to enter; negatively, porosity allowed for unhealthy things to enter the body and expose a person to attack. The latter seems to be the more dominant view.

The Flow of Power Dried Up the Flow of Blood

After surveying the ancient understanding of the porosity of the human body, Moss returns to the pericope of the woman with the discharge of blood. It is clear that the porous body of the woman has made her weak, unhealthy and even unfit for public life. Doctors have been unable to cause her body to “harden” up, that is to prevent the porous nature of her feminine and thin-skinned body. The blood continued to flow no matter what she tried; that is, until Jesus passed by. She had faith that if she touched even his garment that she would be made well. Mark states that when she touched his garment two things happened: (1) her discharge “dried up,” which to the ancients was a sign of a healthy body, a non-porous, not leaking body; and (2) Jesus knew that power had flowed out from his body. The latter point is most fascinating. Just as the woman could not control the flow of blood discharging from her body, neither could Jesus prevent the flow of power coming from his body! The nature of the cause of the woman’s ailment is paralleled in the nature of her healing – two porous bodies: one issuing blood causing harm; one issuing power causing healing.

A number of things could be communicated about Jesus himself from such a re-interpretation. First, Jesus is viewed as a weak, porous, leaking man. His physiology is sickly and unhealthy. Second, the porous nature of his body is unable to fully contain or veil the deity that lies behind it. Therefore third, in the case of Jesus, the nature of his porous body works to the advantage of those around him.

Moss has produced a very interesting use of NT background material. Such work is appreciated as it helps today’s Christian to understand better the 1st century mind and therefore make appropriate applications. Power flows from Jesus to the person who has faith. Are you tapping into this flow today?

Review #3 of Roger Bagnall’s Early Christian Books In Egypt (2009)

In chapter three, Bagnall discusses The Economics of Book Production in the ancient world. The chapter opens with Bagnall mentioning something he “remarked briefly” about in chapter one—the difference between the audiences and uses of classical and Christian literature in the second and third centuries. He goes on to emphasize, “The most important difference was of course that Christian books had no role in the traditional Greek educational system of these centuries” (50). It is not difficult to see that such an observation is important for the presence (and therefore the discovery) of Christian books in Egypt from the second and third centuries. Without the support and use of such literature in the education system, teachers and schools would not be purchasing nor promoting such works. The spiral continues because the educated Alexandrian would not be familiar with the Christian writings, and it is the educated Alexandrian who had moolah, that is cash money (ha—only those who are acquainted with late 1990′s and early 2000′s hip hop will get this reference ). In the ancient world, the wealthy had the finances to buy, copy, and produce books.

Bagnall next goes on to display very, very detailed work on the economics involved in the manufacturing, selling, and buying of the ancient book. We are most indebted to his tedious work here, as well as to those whom he references. However, I would like to challenge an assumption that I see in the argument from the previous paragraph. Admittedly, I am a novice in the area of the education of the ancients, and in no way am I suggesting a perfect correlation between education systems today and those of antiquity. However, I feel like there is some bit of timeless truth to the nature of young pupils. My first challenge is this: how many of us leave elementary, high school, and even college with an allegiance to certain works of literature? Is Bagnall’s assumption that educated individuals had a desire to purchase the books of their youth accurate? Perhaps, but I feel like the question is worth asking. Second, is it a fair assumption then that educated individuals would not have purchased new or unfamiliar works of literature, such as writings from a curious and developing Christian movement? Just some thoughts.

Bagnall’s book is worth its weight in gold because he has gathered so much information from the most current research regarding the economics of ancient book production. His bibliography and research on the primary sources available are priceless. He is precise and to the point—such a technical discussion could…effectively…bog down…the…reader, but Bagnall shares the necessary information and moves on to make his point. For the sake of not simply repeating what he has so perfectly summarized, allow me to simply give you some bullet points on ancient book economics:

• Ancient book prices are rarely preserved, so the database of information with which to work is limited.
• Apophthegmata Patrum owned by Abba Gelasios is a complete parchment Bible priced at 18 gold solidi, or 72 Roman grams of gold [1 solidus = 4 grams of gold from Constantine (272–337) onward].
• John Moschus (Pratum sprituale, PG 87/3.2997) values a New Testament at 3 solidi. A New Testament is about 19% of the total Bible; thus, implying a value of 15.6 solidi for an entire Bible—not differing greatly from Gelasios’ Bible (18 solidi).
• These prices should be accepted only with caution; however, the consistency of the two witnesses is encouraging.
• Testimony from the ostraka found in the Theban West Bank (credit given to Anne  Boud’hors) informs us of prices that, at first, appear a bit cheaper; however, two important factors raise questions about such “door-buster” prices: (1) it is uncertain that the prices listed included binding, which typically doubled the price, and (2) it is uncertain that such affordable prices would have applied to complete Bibles.
• Bagnall has a very helpful section on the prices of parchment and papyrus (54–56).
• For the sake of space, several other factors come into play when researching the economics of ancient book production: (1) material: parchment or papyrus, (2) the cost of labor, (3) accuracy of the ancient records that provide us with testimony about the prices of ancient book production, (4) the size/format of the sheet chosen for the production of a book, (5) the quality of copying desired (6) the practice of recycling writing materials—palimpsests, stuffing for binding and the Panopolis practice of gluing written sides of papyrus together in order to create one, new, thicker, “blank” leaf—and (7) the possible low cost of monastic labor (but see page 60).
• On page 57, Bagnall provides readers with a helpful table (3.1) that illustrates the “Cost Estimates (in Solidi) for One Bible” based upon the style of the desired handwriting, the material chosen for production, and the cost of labor.
• Bagnall proposes that the savings one would retain from choosing papyrus over parchment is correlated to the style of hand desired in the copying of the Bible.

The bullet points do not do justice to the thorough discussion of Bagnall, but hopefully, you feel a little more acquainted with factors one must consider when thinking about ancient book production. So, just how expensive were books? This is a key turning point in Bagnall’s argument in chapter three. Who would have owned Christian books? Bagnall insists that the prices of books were expensive enough that copies of the Scriptures would have been possessed, in most cases, only by churches and monasteries. Churches were concerned with charity and financial support for their clergy—thus making clergymen the most likely owners of Christian books. Listen to this quote from Bagnall,

At the lower end, let us imagine a reader who received 10 solidi per year. A complete Bible would cost him half a year’s income. Such a purchase would have been entirely out of reach. Even an unbound short book, a single gospel on papyrus of the sort that cost a third of a solidus in the ostraka cited by Anne Boud’hors, would amount to one-thirtieth of a year’s income—in proportionate terms (although not in purchasing power) the equivalent of $1,000 today, let us say, for someone earning $35,000. People at that sort of income level do not buy books at that price. Even the best-paid of academics do not buy books at that price (62).

Further, it is most likely that we must look to the high clergy (e.g., the office of bishop) for those who may have been able to purchase books in ancient Egypt. Thus, Bagnall returns to his thesis: with this in mind, how many Christian books should we expect to find in and around Alexandria? Three factors immediately come to the forefront: (1) the number of high clergy Christian communities in the region, (2) the salary of high clergy, such as bishops, in the region, and (3) the presence of other, well-educated (and therefore, wealthy) Alexandrian Christians in the second century. These factors coupled with Bagnall’s view that the Church as an institution was underdeveloped reinforce that the “probability of finding many Christian books truly datable to the second century is very low” (65).

Prior to ending the chapter, Bagnall takes time to “redeem” the third century. A considerable amount manuscripts have come to us from the third century. Apart from the influence of Demetrios’ bishopric, Bagnall proposes another interesting explanation for the apparent increase in Christian book production—some among the urban elite became interested. He offers two examples: (1) well-educated, Alexandrian Christian like Origen and Clement most likely did not live in isolation and (2) even more intriguing is the testimony of a bilingual, book-owning, experienced writer about whom we learn via Chester Beatty Papyrus VII, which is a Greek codex of Isaiah that contains marginal glosses written in Coptic.

Thus, for Bagnall, the second century Christians in Egypt simply did not possess the Church structure or finances needed to establish a respectable library. However, the third century saw the development of the Church as an institution and the growing interest among the urban elite which led to an increase in Christian book production. Speculations abound in certain areas of his argumentation; however, he is quick to recognize this. Yet, his reasoning is convincing. Some counter arguments are swirling around in my head, but I’ll save these for later.

Review #2 of Roger Bagnall’s Early Christian Books In Egypt (2009)

After reading chapter one, I felt like I had sat through a sporting event where my team had won in overtime or extra innings. It left me excited and with high expectations for game two of the series. However, I must say that I was a bit disappointed with the content of chapter two in Early Christian Books In Egypt. I am still trying to figure out whether it was a necessary means to an end.

Prior to diving into new material, Bagnall does offer a helpful summary of chapter one:

I suggested that a realistic assessment of the probable size and character of the Christian communities in Egypt in the second century of our era would lead us to see how unlikely it is that we would possess more than one or two pieces of Christian text from any time before the Severan period (193-235), when Demetrios was bishop of Alexandria and the construction of a network of bishops outside Alexandria, in the nome capitals, had its first, hesitant beginnings (25).

He picks up here to offer two case studies that serve as examples of the perils of allowing the quest or passion for early dating of manuscripts from Egypt to override evidence and truth that might lead to a more realistic but uncomfortable conclusion. The two examples have a primary difference, but they also share something in common, which is where Bagnall unloads. The two differ in the quality of their scholarship.

 The first case study concerns the questionable scholarship of C. P. Thiede and his desire to re-date several papyri to the first century (25-6). Bagnall, like many others, rails on the poor method and integrity of Thiede’s work, especially the duplicity regarding his publications to scholarly and public audiences. Reason and good scholarship became secondary to the quest for early dating.

 The second case study concerns the quality scholarship of Nikolaos Gonis with reference to three previously unpublished papyri of the Shepherd of Hermas (read it here: http://www.newadvent.org/fathers/0201.htm or here: http://www.earlychristianwritings.com/text/shepherd-lightfoot.html) available in volume 69 of the Oxyrhyncus Papyri. Bagnall praises the scholarship of Gonis. The extant manuscripts of Hermas consist of a unique collection. Four of them are written on scrolls, and two of these are written on the recto (inside part) side of new scrolls, with the verso side left blank. Such witnesses testify to the significance of the Shepherd to the early Christian community, which can also be observed in Codex Sinaiticus. The particular controversy in this case study has to do with P. Iand I 4 (42, figure 2.7). Dates from the middle of the second century to the beginning of the third century have been proposed for the manuscript fragments (see the work of Gronewald and Lenaerts, Carlini and Cavallo). Carlini writes concerning this early date for the Hermas manuscript,

An insurmountable difficulty to a date in the first half of the second century for a papyrus of the Shepherd arises at once from the traditional information concerning the composition of Hermas’s work: according to the detailed notice contained in the Muratorian Canon, the date of composition should fall between 142-155, when Pius, the brother of Hermas, occupied the [episcopal] seat of the Church of Rome (43).

The Muratorian Canon has traditionally been viewed with authority. The exact quote from the Canon concerning the Shepherd is offered here from the translation of Bruce M. Metzger:

(73) But Hermas wrote the Shepherd (74) very recently, in our times, in the city of Rome, (75) while bishop Pius, his brother, was occupying the [episcopal] chair (76) of the church of the city of Rome. (77) And therefore it ought indeed to be read; but (78) it cannot be read publicly to the people in church either among (79) the Prophets, whose number is complete, or among (80) the Apostles, for it is after [their] time.

The date of Pius’ possession of the episcopate is not a matter of controversy or debate. Thus, to have a manuscript of the Shepherd in Egypt that dates to the middle of the second century to the beginning of the third century (i.e., P. Iand I 4), but the original draft of the document to have been created between 142-155 begs the question: does this leave enough time for the work to have made its way to Egypt? The result is that scholars involved in the discussion take what Bagnall calls “exit routes” to avoid the problem. For example, one scholar suggest that the Shepherd existed as two separate works early on and only later became a unified work. Bagnall clarifies the this position,

If two parts of the Shepherd circulated separately, it becomes possible to interpret the notice of the Muratorian Canon about the publication of the work under Pius as a reference to the publication of an edition of the two parts in a single book, a hypothesis that would permit the circulation of the individual components in separate editions before 155 (47).

Bangall criticizes such a position of interpreting the Muratorian Canon tendentiously in order to rescue “the palaeographic date given to the papyrus fragment” (47). These two case studies magnify the weight given to palaeographic dating, and this is Bagnall’s point. He is teasing a bit. All reason can be thrown to the curb in order to maintain a date. It is important to be reminded at this point that Bagnall is applying this to papyrus books in Egypt, where he has gone to great lengths to show the disparity of Christian population during the first and second centuries and further the expectation of a sparse Christian literary presence.

Perhaps these examples are more necessary than I originally thought. After typing this out and laboring through the chapter, I think Bagnall’s point resonates a bit more with me. Maybe game two of the series wasn’t so bad after all. It is my hope to have a review of chapter three available in the next couple days. God bless.

Review #1 of Roger Bagnall’s Early Christian Books In Egypt (2009)

Early Christian Books in Egypt by Roger S. Bagnall is a small 110 page volume; however, don’t let the size of this little ditty fool you—or else you’ll find yourself left behind at the bus stop as advancements in papyrology and codicology pass you by.

Early Christian Books In Egypt (2009) by Roger S. Bagnall

The claim of the first chapter, which is entitled “The Dating of the Earliest Christian Books in Egypt, seeks to set the scholar free “from the struggle to push the dates of manuscripts back into the second century, or even into the first” (23–24). Bagnall builds a strong case that Christianity in Egypt during the first and second centuries (i.e., pre-Demetrian Christianity) was not as prominent as sometimes thought. Oftentimes, it is the early dating of the New Testament papyri discovered in Egypt that forces the issue.

Perhaps equally problematic, it shows just how vital the existence and early dating of the papyri are to the entire conception of the development of Christianity in Egypt and how much is at stake in such datings. Without these early datings of papyri, we have no contemporary witnesses to pre-Demetrian Christianity to provide a background for his era. It is worth the trouble at least to consider the consequences that would follow from taking a different view (5).

The first pillar of Bagnall’s presentation is that the episcopal network of Egypt developed late. Bagnall (and Wypszycka) paints the Egyptian episcopate as an underdeveloped program best described as a “monarchic structure” with the Alexandrian see at its head. Thus, the oversight of the church in Egypt came from the see of Alexandria as opposed to a matured multilevel hierarchy of bishops spread out across various regions. This underdeveloped episcopate is presented as possible evidence for a small representation of Christianity in the first and second centuries in Egypt.

Wypszycka holds that the underdeveloped episcopate of Egypt was due to an inability to bring about development because of resistance from “provincial clergy” (7). Bagnall highlights an assumption at this point. It may not be that there was a lack of desire to develop the episcopate or that there was opposition to doing so. It may very well be that the presence of Christians in Egypt was not widespread in the first and second centuries. The relation of New Testament papyri to the presence of Christianity in Egypt prior to the third century all of a sudden becomes quite important. Documentary papyri prove to be of no help because it is not until much later that Rome began to document religious affiliation, and even then it is questionable that early Christians or Christian clergy would have thought of themselves in the same way that, say, an Egyptian priest would have (8). Bagnall shuts the door firmly on the notion of gaining information about the presence of second century Christianity in Egypt from documentary papyri.It should be noted, however, that this argument only establishes a lack of documentation of Christian presence in Alexandria in the second century not necessarily a lack of Christian presence in Egypt at this time. Thus, the significance of literary Christian papyri (e.g., from the NT) discovered in the Egyptian countryside (e.g., Oxyrhyncus and elsewhere) is magnified.

After an evaluation of the Christian (and in some cases possibly Jewish) literary papyri dated to the II or III centuries by the Leuven Database of Ancient Books, Bagnall concludes that there are 29 total papyri to consider—8 of which are dated to the II/III century and 21 of which are dated to the early III century. Bagnall admits that there remains much editing work to be done regarding papyri discoveries from Egypt; however, it is at this point that he begins to develop a proper numerical expectation of Christian literary papyri in Egypt (primarily in Alexandria and its surrounding nomes) based upon an understanding of the proportion of population in Egypt that may have been Christian (18ff.). By means of statistical analysis, figures are proposed for Christians in Egypt up until the end of Demetrios’ possession of the “episcopal throne in Alexandria” and the beginning of the episcopate of Heraklas. By 250 C.E., Bagnall suggests that 116,849 Christians were in Egypt, which made up 2.120% of the population. From this statistic and the knowledge we have of extant book fragments from Egypt, Bagnall estimates the probable number of Christian books by II/III century to be 12.

There is, to judge by the figures in this table, only one chance in eighteen that any Christian book of the late first or early second century would survive. That is, the odds are seventeen to one that we would have zero such books. We should have just one or two Christian fragments from the second century as a whole. On any reckoning, the number of published fragments of Christian character usually assigned to these early periods considerably exceeds the expected number (21).

Bagnall goes on to urge the reader that, “It is time to let go of the idea that Christian literature is somehow underrepresented in the papyri before the later third century” (21). Prior to concluding the chapter, he discusses the ownership of books among lay Christians and Christian clergy. He emphasizes that the possession of books in ancient cultures cannot be separated from education and social status. Therefore, with the underdeveloped clergy situation and lay people who were no doubt spread across the social spectrum (although perhaps there existed a more centralized mass in one class or another), one can easily grasp Bagnall’s point—there weren’t very many Christian books in Egypt during the first and second centuries, and we should stop expecting the alternative.

He closes the first chapter of this powerful little book by offering liberation to papyrologists. While admitting that agreement with this theory is in one sense a defeat, it also strikes Bagnall as,

a welcome liberation, which papyrologists should embrace, because it is only with the pre-occupation with origins set aside that the interest and original contribution of the few genuinely early texts can be assessed properly (24).

I think that Bagnall raises significant considerations for those interested in the manuscripts accredited to early Christianity. However, I also feel that there are some considerations left out of his discussion regarding, (1) the presence of Christianity in Northern Africa via key figures from Cyrenaica, (2) Coptic traditions concerning the development of Christianity in Egypt, and (3) the possible statistical anomaly created by the Jewish Christian presence in Egypt.

Thomas Oden, professor of Theology Emeritus at Drew University, delivered a series of lectures at Dallas Theological Seminary’s W. H. Griffith Thomas Memorial Lectureship. The topic of the series was Libyan Christianity (Libya is Egypt’s neighbor to the west) as established by messianic Jews from Cyrenaica. I remember being intrigued by these lectures and by the possibility of Christianity having early (first century) roots in Libya. If Christianity indeed has first and second century roots in Libya, what might this mean for the development of Christianity in Egypt?

Oden also alluded to the Coptic tradition in his lectures. The Coptic tradition holds that Mark (the author of the canonical gospel bearing his name) served as the first bishop of Alexandria and was later martyred there around 68 C.E. When the presence of such an influential figure (an author of one of the New Testament books nonetheless) serving in Alexandria is combined with possible connections between the Alexandrian see and the development of Christianity in Libya (as suggested by Oden), it is possible that a lack in Christian documentation or publicized Christianity does not necessitate a lack in Christian representation and presence in Alexandria and the surrounding regions.

Lastly, Bagnall closes his chapter with a suggestion that some books that have been considered Christian may indeed be Jewish in origin. Thus, the evidence for early Christian literature in Egypt declines even further, if such a thing it true. He (and Oden) references the Jewish revolt that ended at the beginning of Hadrian’s reign (117). Bagnall states that a significant lack of “documentary evidence for a Jewish population” is observable between 117 and the later part of the third century. However, I would like to see some statistical estimations regarding the population of Jews in Egypt during the first, second and third centuries. I do not think it is enough to evaluate “Christian” population alone. For we must remember that the first few centuries of “Christianity” might be described as such for a Gentile convert. However, to the Jew who embraced Christ, this movement was merely an advancement and reform of their existing Jewish faith. Thus, I would be interested in seeing how large a Jewish representation existed in Egypt and an estimated figure on how many of these Jews may have indeed been reformed Jews (i.e., followers of the Messiah, Jesus). Would these numbers drastically increase the number of expected “Christian” books in Egypt? Maybe, maybe not.

While I would like to see these last three issues addressed by Bagnall, his reasoning in the first chapter is still strong. An explosion of Christian writings in Egypt during the first two centuries is perhaps an unreal expectation. What do you think?