Books in Brief
Ante Pacem: Archaeological Evidence of Church Life Before Constantine
Graydon F. Snyder
(Macon, GA: Mercer University Press, 1985) 187 pp. plus 97 photographs, illustrations and maps. $19.95
Suprisingly, Ante Pacem: Archaeological Evidence of Church Life Before Constantine is the first English language introduction or source book for early Christian archaeology. With this book Graydon Snyder, dean and professor of New Testament studies at Bethany Theological Seminary, Oak Brook, Illinois, has gone a long way toward filling an obvious need.
As the title indicates, his book concentrates on the Christian archaeological evidence datable to the first three centuries of Christian history. But Ante Pacem is more than just a mere source book. It attempts to reconstruct daily Christian life through a detailed examination of “nonliterary” archaeological evidence.
Each chapter looks at a different kind of evidence: Christian symbols, pictorial representations, church buildings, inscriptions and graffiti and, finally, papyri. The book’s 50 black-and-white photographs and 47 illustrations, including maps, plans and drawings, amply support the text.
Though ecclesiastical historians have supplied a detailed picture of the embryonic church organization and its spiritual leaders—the elite—the question remains: What did the simple folk do? That is, how did ordinary Christians worship, live and think in the centuries before Constantine made Christianity the state religion of the Roman empire in 313 A.D. (that is, before the “peace of Constantine”—ante pacem).
Answers are elusive. First, as Snyder argues, no identifiably Christian archaeological evidence dating to much earlier than 180 A.D. has come to light. Until 180 A.D. or thereabouts, Snyder asserts, Christians existed within the larger “social matrix” of Greco-Roman civilization. Not until about 180 A.D. does a truly Christian “matrix” emerge, identifiable by its own signs, symbols, architecture and linguistic conventions.
Snyder offers an interpretation of the available evidence according to a specific methodological and hermeneutical program. He rejects previous attempts to interpret Christian art and artifacts in light of Christian literature—both Biblical and extra-Biblical. Instead, he concentrates on the archaeological evidence, assuming that purely archaeological data are likely to present a truer picture of early Christian practice and usage than is “ecclesiastical tradition” as it is reflected in the received literature of the Church.
Ante Pacem’s first chapter deals with the history of early Christian archaeology and provides the interested reader with valuable bibliographies.
Chapter two is devoted to “Early Christian Symbols” such as are found on ancient sarcophagi and in wall-paintings and graffiti. Among the symbols discussed are the lamb, anchor, vase, dove, boat, olive branch, orante (a female figure depicted with outstretched arms and hands upraised in prayer), palm or tree, bread, Good Shepherd, fish, vine and grapes, and the cross.
Snyder makes a sharp distinction between Christian life and practice of the pre-Constantinian period and the period from Constantine on. Before Constantine, the symbol of the lamb, for example, never connotes the agnus dei (“the Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world” [John 1:29]). Snyder argues: “The earlier Christians stressed deliverance and victory rather than death and resurrection.” Only after the peace of Constantine “did the lamb take on its powerful, Biblically based redemptive meaning, the lamb of God.”
In the same chapter, Snyder argues that the specific Christian symbolism of the cross did not exist before Constantine. He refers to the “striking lack of crosses in early Christian remains,” and states that the crosses that do appear in Christian—and Jewish—art are “crypto-crosses” and are not symbolic of the crucifixion of Jesus. Snyder also discusses the question of the cross in connection with the famous donkey-head graffito, found on the Palatine Hill in Rome, that shows a human figure with a donkey’s head suspended on a cross, and the supposed cross pattern found on the wall of a house in Herculaneum, one of the Roman cities buried by the eruption of Mt. Vesuvius in 79 A.D. The donkey-head graffito (probably third century A.D.) is a “cartoon” mocking the Christian message of the crucified savior. The so-called cross from Herculaneum “could have been anything attached to the wall by two cross pieces.”
Snyder sums up the evidence: “While there may be a place in early Christian art for the protective cross of the social matrix, there is no place for the kerygmatic cross.” He thus excludes the use of the cross as a symbol of the Crucifixion and Resurrection of Christ in the ante pacem period, but allows for the use of a protective cross-type mark (cf. Ezekiel 9:3, 6).
Snyder may be right, but there is room for disagreement on his interpretation of the Herculaneum evidence.1 One kind of evidence not discussed by Snyder may also give the reader pause before accepting his blanket conclusion: The occurrence in Christian literary manuscripts, including pre-Constantinian papyri, of the word stauros (Greek for cross) as a nomen sacrum (a “sacred word” marked with a special abbreviation with superlineation, cp
Chapter three is devoted to pictorial representations found in frescoes, mosaics and on sarcophagi. This material is interpreted in chapter four (“Pictorial Interpretations”), and arranged according to theme. Snyder interprets the Jonah Cycle, Noah and the Ark, Daniel in the Lions’ Den, Susannah and the Elders, the Sacrifice of Isaac, Moses Striking the Rock, Adam and Eve, the Three Young Men in the Fiery Furnace, Jesus, the Baptism of Jesus, the Wise Men, Jesus the Healer, the Resurrection of Lazarus, the Woman at the Well, Jesus Teaching, Christ Helios and the Ascension of Elijah, the Fisherman, and the Multiplication of the Loaves and Fishes.
There is not sufficient space here to discuss fully Snyder’s interpretation of the pictorial evidence. With respect to Old Testament themes, little attention is given to possible Jewish influences on Christian art. Jewish evidence is mentioned only sporadically. One example is Snyder’s discussion of the Sacrifice of Isaac, where he states that this theme was “beloved both in late Judaism [sic] and early Christianity.” The (very unlikely) possibility is held out that its popularity in Christianity created the Jewish usage. As to specifically Christian portrayals, Snyder is undoubtedly right when he distinguishes between pre-Constantinian and post-Constantinian portrayals of Jesus; that is, between a Jesus who is mainly a wonder-worker and one who is “Christ the King.”
Chapter five is devoted to “Early Church Buildings.” While no extant church can definitely be dated to the pre-Constantinian period, there is archaeological evidence of private homes that were restructured to become a Christian assembly place—the domus ecclesiae.
With the aid of valuable plans, drawings and pictures, Snyder discusses the third-century A.D. church at Dura-Europos in Syria (the oldest known); the “House of Peter” in Capernaum, Israel (see “Has the House Where Jesus Stayed in Capernaum Been Found?” BAR 08:06, by James F. Strange and Hershel Shanks); the Double Church at Aquileia in Italy; the tituli churches of Rome; cemetery structures (catacombs, martyria and the covered cemeteries in Rome); and baptistries.
Snyder points out that the early Christians had two places of meeting: the domus ecclesiae and the cemetery, where meals were eaten in honor of the departed in a ceremony called the agape or refrigerium. Reverence for certain “special dead” developed into the Church’s cult of the saints and martyrs, and the building of special structures called martyria is associated with this phenomenon.
Snyder’s discussion of church buildings is interesting throughout, but especially when he deals with such controversial subjects as the excavations under St. Peter’s in Rome. However, I believe he tends to drive too deep a wedge between the Christianity of the cemeteries and the Christianity practiced in the churches, as though the same people were not involved in both types of cultic activity—both participating in the mass in church and in the refrigeria at tomb sites.
Chapters six and seven deal respectively with “Inscriptions and Graffiti” and “Papyrus Documentation.” Given the wealth of material, the author restricts himself to providing just a few examples, for which he then supplies the Latin or Greek text, a translation and a commentary with a bibliography.
His inscription examples are all sepulchral in nature, and include dated inscriptions from Rome, from pre-Constantinian sarcophagi, the Vatican Museum collection, the Catacomb of Priscilla, the upper Timbris Valley in Turkey and the famous Abercius Inscription from Hierapolis in Turkey.
The graffiti are selected from Rome, Dura-Europos and Trier. The papyri include letters, official documents, contracts, four magical texts and the earliest piece of church music yet found.
Chapter eight is a brief summary of the picture of early Christianity gained from the archaeological data, or, rather, Snyder’s interpretation of it. Not all scholars will agree with his interpretation, but I do not expect anyone to question the value of what he has given us with this book—the first of its kind in the English language.
The Practical Archaeologist: How We Know What We Know About the Past
Jane McIntosh
(New York: Facts on File Publications, 1986) 200 pp., $18.95
This handsome volume is a treasure trove for anyone interested in archaeology in general. Although the references to Near Eastern-related topics and sites are few, the armchair Biblical archaeologist should not overlook this resource, because it contains up-to-date information on methodology.
The book is written for the layperson; it offers excellent photographs and drawings—the hallmark of Facts on File publications—that cogently illustrate the narrative. The book aims not to present a history, but to show how archaeologists work: how they decide where to dig and what methods they employ in digging, recording, interpreting, and preserving.
This aim is achieved in six parts, each subdivided into smaller units dealing with specific topics. Part 1, “What is Archaeology?” deals with the history of this field of research from its beginnings to the latest innovations. Part 2, “The Lie of the Land,” is devoted to the questions of how a site is chosen and what preliminary steps the archaeological team takes.
Part 3, “Excavation,” examines excavation techniques. Issues include: salvage (rescue) archaeology; the importance of context; horizontal and vertical excavation; surveying; the use of heavy machinery and other tools; recording and sifting; conservation in the field; underwater archaeology; and more. Part 4, “Processing the Finds,” deals with treatment and dating of finds.
Part 5, “Understanding the Past,” considers interpretation of finds, with a view toward reconstructing a piece of human history. Part 6, “Billingsgate, Diary of an Excavation,” shows step by step how the topics dealt with in the previous chapters are applied in an actual excavation in London, England.
Each part is accompanied by examples, such as “Town Planners of Imperial Mexico” illustrating “Surveying Techniques,” “Preserving Tollund Man” as a case of “Conservation in the Field,” and “Piltdown Man Hoax Exposed,” related to “The Importance of Dating.”
I highly recommend this book for those who are interested in a broad perspective on how archaeologists work.