Modelling Early Christianity

Social-Scientific Studies of the New Testament in its Context

Philip Esler

• Publisher: Routledge
• Year: 2002
• eBook ISBN: 9781134792993
• Topic: History
• Subtopic: Ancient History
• Index: History

Modelling Early Christianity explores the intriguing foreign social context of first century Palestine and the Greco-Roman East, in which the Christian faith was first proclaimed and the New Testament documents were written. It demonstrates that a sophisticated analysis of the context is essential in order to understand the original meaning of the texts.
The contributors examine social themes such as early Christian group formation, the centrality of kinship and honour and the economic setting. They offer a wealth of novel and socially realistic interpretations which make sense of the texts. At the same time, Modelling Early Christianity contains significant new ideas on the relationship between social-scientific and literary-critical analysis, the theoretical justification for model-use and the way these new approaches can fertilise contemporary Christian theology.

Part I
THE WORLD OF FIRST-CENTURY
PALESTINE

1
HERODIAN ECONOMICS IN GALILEE
Searching for a suitable model

Sean Freyne

INTRODUCTION

One of the occupational hazards of ancient historians must surely be the temptation to draw a complete picture of whatever segment of life interests them, irrespective of the adequacy of their data for such a task. Few of us are happy to acknowledge the many gaps in our knowledge of the ancient world, no matter how sophisticated the modern retrieval systems are. This dilemma, the need to present a coherent hypothesis (often disguised as the definitive description) despite the absence of sufficient information, poses important hermeneutical questions which scholars are sometimes reluctant to address. For instance, when I reread my own previous work on Galilee I find myself repeatedly asking why precisely I had opted for a particular understanding of the data (Freyne 1980, 1988, 1992). The answer, hopefully, is because in my judgement the evidence pointed in that direction, even when other possible interpretations could and should be considered. The question becomes more acute still on comparing one’s own views with those of others writing about the same topic. Why is Martin Goodman’s (1983) description of Galilee very like my own—a predominantly peasant Jewish village culture? Why is it that D.Edwards (1988) and J.D. Crossan (1991), J.Strange (1992) and A.Overman (1988) can speak so confidently about the urbanization of Galilee, particularly lower Galilee, with all the attendant consequences for social and religious life in the region? Is this due to the bias of the sources which may be selectively chosen, or are there deeper methodological or even ideological issues at play and how might one rationally adjudicate among the competing views?

One important new tool in the repertoire of the ancient historian is the use of the social sciences, whose critical application can mean an end to what has been described as ‘the intuitivist approach’, with its ‘hit or miss’ aspect. By carefully choosing an appropriate model and applying it as rigorously as possible many mistakes can be avoided and it becomes possible to assess the validity of one’s initial intuitions and to compare the results with those of others in a more critical and rational manner. In a previous paper I attempted to develop and apply a model to do with the cultural role of cities to Galilean social life (1992), basing myself primarily on the writings of Josephus. Though reasonably pleased with the exercise another challenge emerged, namely, how best to integrate the findings of the rapidly growing corpus of archaeological work on the region with the literary evidence. How is one to bring spade and text together in view of the fact that the one (texts) are tellings, not showings, whereas the other (archaeological data) are showings in need of tellings which are largely dependent on those very texts? Unlike the earlier concentration on isolated sites or on particular types of buildings such as synagogues, the more recent archaeological work is informed by insights from landscape, ethno- and socio-archaeology, as findings at individual sites are being integrated with the results of regional and inter-regional surveys (Meyers, Strange and Groh 1978; Urman 1985; Barker and Lloyd 1991; Rich and Wallace-Hadrill 1991). In these developing branches of the new archaeology, there is considerable input from the social sciences also, as researchers attempt to develop adequate models for understanding and interpreting the data so painstakingly acquired.

Models will not of course obviate the need for on-going critical assessment of one’s procedures, nor will they fill in the gaps in our information where these exist. There is the initial task of choosing a model appropriate for the task to which one wishes to put it. Even then models can never encapsulate the whole of life in all its complexity, but rather select and highlight certain key aspects, which after careful reflection are deemed to be crucial in understanding the whole. Inevitably, therefore, there is an element of personal judgement involved as one attempts to match the model based on typical features with the particular aspects of a given society. Despite this subjective dimension, the value of model-building is that it assists in making one’s presuppositions explicit. There will be less likelihood that essential aspects will be overlooked and such abstract notions as power, elites, etc. can be dissected analytically by asking more detailed questions like: to whom; for what purpose; in whose interest; who decides what the problems are, etc. (Garney 1975; Elliot 1986a, 1993a). Finally, the application of a model helps in assembling and organizing the scattered pieces of data at our disposal and in uncovering the missing links. Thus within the the overall frame of reference which the model represents it is possible to predict the direction which changes are likely to take by having a clearer perception of the role which individual items play within the whole system.

MODELLING AN ECONOMIC SYSTEM

The number of serious analytical studies of ancient economies by biblical scholars is few, and in this respect the discipline contrasts unfavourably with that of ancient history generally, where much more attention has been given to the question by historians of Greece and Rome. The omission is all the more surprising in view of the fact that economic issues figure so prominently in the recorded sayings of Jesus. There have been various attempts to describe the economic realities of first-century Palestine and the Gospels (Grant 1923), but with rare exceptions the question of how deeply economic issues were at the heart of Jesus’ own experience and ministry, as well as that of the early Christians, has not been adequately addressed (Oakman 1986; Moxnes 1988). There are undoubtedly many reasons for such an oversight. The fact that economic issues in antiquity are seen as embedded in, and therefore inseparable from, political ones is certainly a factor. However, this should not be overstated. While it is true that abstract thinking on economics as we know it today is a product of the industrial revolution, this does not mean that ‘rational’ economic thinking never occurred in pre-industrial societies. There is enough evidence ranging from fifth-century BCE Athens to fourth-century CE Egypt to indicate that there was a general awareness of issues such as the maximizing of resources, the need to keep production costs low and the possibility of manipulating market demand in order to achieve higher prices (Osborne 1991; Rathbone 1991).

Among ancient historians the work of Moses Finley has dominated much of the recent discussion. His theory of the ancient city being parasitic on the countryside in a highly exploitative way set a very definite landmark that is only gradually being modified, but which is never likely to be entirely abandoned (Finley 1985). Finley’s model, like that of Weber on which it was based, sharply contrasted the ancient ‘consumer’ city with its medieval ‘producer’ counterpart. It stressed the inequality of the relationship between town and country by maintaining that control of the land, the most important ancient resource, was essentially in the hands of a wealthy elite, who for political reasons dwelt in cities and had little interest in re-investing into the economy of the countryside, provided their own relatively luxurious life-style was maintained. The resulting stagnation meant the increased impoverishment of and pressure on the remaining small land-owners, as well as precluding the emergence of an urban merchant or entrepreneurial class. In this view of the city as the village ‘writ large’ in terms of economic realities, relating to its hinterland in the way that a village relates to its fields, the wealthy land-owner shares the peasant’s passion for self-sufficiency, without any qualitatively different view of the possibilities of greater production (Osborne 1991:120). Little account is taken of the manufacturing and commercial potential of ancient cities in terms of the production of goods such as household wares which are not directly related to agriculture. On this understanding, therefore, ancient cities are primarily administrative centres where the wealthy land-owners reside and play a full part in the civic and political life of the polis. It is the honour and prestige attached to such activities rather than the maximizing of resources in commercial enterprises that determine their conduct of affairs.

Several modifications of these ideas have been suggested, particularly in view of the fact that in the wake of Alexander’s conquests the city itself as institution had been transformed from the free-standing entity of the classical period, the main focus of Finley’s typology. It was now put to the service of the commercial, cultural and administrative policies of the Hellenistic monarchies and later the Roman empire. In particular, the opening up of new and lucrative trade routes changed the whole commercial balance of the Middle Eastern world, several of which touched directly on Galilee. Both local and international trade developed in a manner and scale never before experienced as the demands for goods and services increased among the wealthy elites of the West. In this changed climate it has been suggested that cities and towns were ‘organizers’ of the countryside in that they paid for their consumption needs through profits from the increased trade that they were engaged in. Thus, it is claimed, cities should be seen as production centres, giving rise to a commercial class who were able to pay the rural population for their produce, thereby enabling the peasants to pay their taxes in money rather than in kind (Hopkins 1978, 1980). Archaeological evidence is seen as crucial in establishing this changed picture. On the one hand, it is argued that the evidence from Pompeii and even Rome itself suggests a much greater diversity of commercial activity, even in the elite residential areas, than might have been expected (Wallace-Hadrill 1991). In support of Finley, however, it has been claimed that coinage is relatively scarce in the countryside until the third century CE and the evidence on the ground from Roman Britain and elsewhere in the Western provinces does not support the notion of cities as manufacturing centres (Whittaker 1990). Of course this debate is by no means settled and there is no reason why different local circumstances may not have prevailed in different contexts. A lot seems to hinge on what size town we are talking about, whether upwardly towards the polis/civitas end of the spectrum or downwardly towards the kome/vicus end. This is a large topic which cannot be dealt with adequately here. What the debate highlights, however, is the need for a model that will encompass economic issues dealing with manufacture, exploitation and redistribution of wealth. We must not reduce the undoubted urban/rural differences as these were perceived in antiquity to a meaningless tautology, yet we must equally avoid setting up rigid oppositions that fail to capture, however imperfectly, the many-faceted dimensions of that relationship.

All of which brings us neatly back to Galilee, and more specifically to the Galilee of Antipas. I am especially interested in the situation in the northern region generally at that particular period, since it is possible to detect a pattern of change in terms of the development of urban settlements, not only in Galilee but also in Perea as well as in the territory of Antipas’ brother, Herod Philip (J. A. 18. 26–28). These developments were not concerned merely with the honouring of their Roman patrons as evidenced by the names given to the new foundations, and it may be indicative that Josephus mentions them in the context of the new arrangements in Judaea by the Roman procurator Quirinius, who had been appointed on the deposition of Archelaus in 6 CE. It is the working hunch of this essay that some more far-reaching and rapid forms of change were occurring that had a strong economic component built into them. This would provide the most immediate context in which to understand the ministry of Jesus with its strong emphasis on wealth and poverty, money, debts, etc. and the value system related to such matters. Of course these realities were not new on the Palestinian landscape, but the conjunction of the proposed developments for Galilee in the reign of Antipas and the concern of the Jesus movement with such issues points to a growing preoccupation at just that time that would explain many features of the Gospel narratives, not least the total silence with regard to Sepphoris and Tiberias among the places in which Jesus conducted his ministry.

In order to verify (or falsify) such a hunch we need an appropriate model that could register and highlight rapid economic change, since this is the claim that needs to be tested. T.F.Carney’s study, The Shape of the Past: Models and Antiquity (Carney 1975), has proved to be a helpful resource for others engaged in this task of model-building with a view to studying various aspects of the ancient world, since it displays an unusual grasp of both the social world of antiquity and modern theory from the social sciences. Carney contrasts the different procedures involved in, on the one hand, profiling a stable economy, and on the other, plotting change within a developing one. In the former instance it is simply a matter of capturing a ‘still life’ view of the various component parts of the total system and presenting them in a manner which portrays their interrelationships (Figure 1). Profiling change (Figure 2) is a more complex task, however. Here, according to Garney, the challenge is one of selecting and highlighting key elements or probe zones, as he terms them, which are essential for rapid change to occur. These elements affect (1) the relations between production and distribution (i.e. the market itself); (2) the social structures and institutions controlling the market; and (3) the values and decision-making process which determine what the dominant priorities are. In each of these crucial areas it is necessary to concentrate on certain aspects which act as spurs to change within the total system. These are attitudinal changes with regard to production and consumption, leading to increased specialization withi...

Table of contents

• COVER PAGE
• TITLE PAGE
• COPYRIGHT PAGE
• DEDICATION
• ILLUSTRATIONS
• CONTRIBUTORS
• PREFACE
• ABBREVIATIONS
• INTRODUCTION: MODELS, CONTEXT AND KERYGMA IN NEW TESTAMENT INTERPRETATION
• PART I: THE WORLD OF FIRST-CENTURY PALESTINE
• PART II: EARLY CHRISTIAN GROUP FORMATION AND MAINTENANCE
• PART III: FAMILY AND HONOUR IN MATTHEW AND LUKE
• PART IV: PAUL, KINSHIP AND IDEOLOGY
• PART V: OPPRESSION, WAR AND PEACE
• REFERENCES