Category: Social Conventions

The Role of An Amanuensis in the Letters of Paul

On By Jovan PayesIn 2004, Biblical Criticism, College Work, Freed-Hardeman University, Greco-Roman World, New Testament, New Testament Background, New Testament World, Paul's Letters, Research Papers, Social Conventions

The New Testament was not dropped out of heaven in its present form. Instead, it was produced by means of human ability and human ingenuity. No disrespect is given to the dogma of plenary inspiration of Scriptures if one examines the methodologies used to produce God’s breath into written form (2 Tim 3:16).[1] It is a matter of respect when such a course of action is taken.

The literary composition of the New Testament is unbalanced in that 78% of its 27-volume anthology is comprised of epistolary literature. In other words, the Christian canon is principally made up of letters. Among these letters stand those of the Apostle Paul, 13 in all which bear his name. Among the many controversies which surround the letters of Paul, few are underestimated as the Pauline use of an amanuensis, a profession more accurately designated “secretary.”[2]

Secretarial work is one of the most pervasive labors undergirding the production of most of the New Testament;[3] it is also at times one of the most controversial issues to sift through. This is particularly highlighted in the study of the role, more accurately the influence, of the secretary in the Pauline corpus. The principle issue controverted is “the degree of freedom that a letter writer might give to his or her scribe in the choice of wording.”[4]

Although it is true that a secretary in the Greco-Roman world was given liberties in word choices when applied to Paul the letters which bear his name are authentically Pauline according to Greco-Roman standards no matter what level of secretarial influence. This is demonstrated by three lines of evidence. First, there was a wide spectrum of secretarial freedom typical of ancient letter writers which were viewed as genuine epistolary conventions. Second, irrespective of the secretarial freedom in word choice, there were genuine methods of controlling the final product by the author. Third, Paul’s emphasis on the authenticity in his letters demonstrates a high level of security precautions as a part of letter composition.

Preliminary to considering the arguments below, observe that there must be an understanding and appreciation for how a different culture works.[5] The methods of communications may differ from the present modern world, but they were authoritative in the ancient world in which these documents were originally penned. Modern standards must be placed to the side. With this one precautionary principle, the value of the present arguments will be seen clearly. Consider the following three arguments.

Secretarial Freedom

First, each level of secretarial freedom was viewed as a genuine method of letter production.

E. Randolph Richards observes that the sender “could grant to the secretary complete, much, little, or no control over the content, style, and/or form of the letter.”[6] From his extensive evaluation of ancient letters, the role of a secretary, in general, was fourfold. The secretary may have contributed to the production of a letter as a verbatim recorder, as an editor of a preliminary letter, as a co-author with an emphasis on linguistics, or as the composer free of any set verbal content.[7] Jerome Murphy-O’Connor suggests three roles, eliminating co-authorship as a viable role of a secretary and placing that as a different type of compositional endeavor, which seems appropriate.[8]

As a verbatim recorder, the only controversial issue is whether or not there was a shorthand method able to follow dictation viva voce (i.e. at the speed of speech), for syllabim dictation (at the speed of handwriting) is basically free from controversy. Alan Millard observes that there is evidence of a shorthand ability to copy viva voce for the Latin language, but that the evidence for a Greek system is questionable due to poorly preserved manuscripts.[9]

Richards, on the other hand, persuasively argues that this Latin shorthand system derived itself probably from a comparable Greek system because discussions among Latin manuscripts employ Greek words to describe their shorthand system, thus implying a dependence on a prior Greek system. Moreover, there are early second century A.D. fragmentary manuscripts of Greek shorthand available and the evidence has a very wide geographical distribution across the Mediterranean world.[10] Murphy-O’Connor extends the link earlier than the second century A.D. to the first century B.C.[11] The point is, that a secretary could potentially follow the author at the speed of their speech in shorthand, and at the very least at the speed of writing. Dictation was not a problem.

The secretary may serve as an editor of a preliminary letter. In the production of the final copy of a letter, the secretary at times, if not always, was given the responsibility to correct or adjust the grammar and syntax of a verbalized letter or a prewritten letter that was appended by the author.[12] As Robson observes:

Where he did not compose, St. Paul would dictate: this would enable him to be conversational and oratorical at will. He could deliver some portion of a missionary sermon, or answer a series of questions, or parry and thrust with an imaginary opponent in the fashion of the diatribe, at will.[13]

E. Iliff Robson, “Composition and Dictation in New Testament Books,” Journal of Theological Studies 18 (1917)

The secretary would then harmonize the quick fluctuation of argumentative paradigms Paul employs, as in the Roman letter. There is nothing ingenious about this procedure.

The secretary would likewise be given the task of composing free of any set verbal content. There were times in ancient epistolary composition when an author would request his secretary to be a substitute author.[14] In this respect, the secretary was given a considerable amount of freedom to choose the wording. Moreover, Richards observes that “a writer usually does not reveal that his letter was actually composed by a secretary.”[15] Consequently, the reader would not necessarily know it was a secretary who composed the letter. But there is adequate evidence to demonstrate that if the recipients were familiar enough with the author that they could recognize the handwriting, style, and argumentation methods and distinguish between a letter written by their friend or by their friend’s secretary.[16]

In one sense, the fact that the secretary could do this is difficult to account for in New Testament letters since there are no extant autographs. Definite factors come into play in this regard, which alleviates some of the curiosity that this point highlights in one’s mind. As Richards notes, “the letters, especially official and business letters, had a very set form, vocabulary, and style.”[17]

Consequently, certain letters already had a predetermined template to follow, similar to modern word processing computers, the only difference is that the secretary had to produce a new template each time. Moreover, this was very advantageous for the illiterate population of the Greco-Roman world.[18] Also, there is no evidence to suggest that this was extensively done within personal letters. The point which needs to be emphasized is that there were specific and genuine needs for this method. Observe the next line of reasoning for methods of controlling and authenticating the secretary’s actions.

Measures of Authorial Control

Second, there were genuine methods of controlling the activities of the secretary.

The principal controlling agent was the author who would read the final rough draft or the final draft before it was dispatched.[19] The importance of this is demonstrated by the case of Quintus, the brother of Cicero, on his first Roman appointment. Quintus employed his secretary Statius as his “chief” secretary to read the letters composed by other secretaries without Quintus’ personal attention. Cicero advises Quintus to read the letters that go out in his name because he had already suffered professionally because of his action. The implication here is irrespective of who penned the letter the author is held responsible for every word and sentiment.[20] It is very enlightening that Quintus was not discouraged from having his secretaries write documents in his name, but he was rebuked for not having read them himself before dispatching them.

A second method of demonstrating control over the content irrespective of the type of freedom given to a secretary is the subscriptions written in the author’s handwriting.[21] These subscriptions generally repeat and summarize in the author’s handwriting the main content of the letter to demonstrate that the author is fully aware of the material which is being sent in his or her name.[22] Yet, one must respect the extant evidence and note that not all letters in the Greco-Roman period had subscriptions of the exact same length.[23] Each letter must be approached on its own terms and one must not assume that all letters have this subscription.[24] Nevertheless, there were security measures available for any kind of secretarial influence and freedom.

Paul’s “Security” Precautions

Third, Paul’s emphasis on the authenticity in his letters demonstrates a high level of security precautions as a part of letter composition.

The internal evidence of the New Testament demonstrates that the Apostle Paul had a high degree of care for the churches to which he ministered. This will demonstrate what was more likely for Paul to do with regards to the type of security measures he would place in each letter. For example, in 2 Corinthians (an undisputed Pauline letter[25]) Paul demonstrates his unyielding concern for the church in Corinth to persevere to a more stable spiritual plateau by foregoing a door of evangelism providentially opened by the Lord so he could minister to them (2 Cor 2:12–13).

Again, in 1 Corinthians the Apostle Paul demonstrated his high level of concern when he sent Timothy to minister to them in his stead. He sent Timothy because he would remind them of his ways (1 Cor 4:14–17). In a sense, Timothy was a surrogate for Paul’s presence, an emphasis which is identical to the purposes of dispatching a letter,[26] allowing each party to share in each other life.[27] The point of emphasis made here is that Paul was very careful and had concerned for the well-being of the church. It is very natural to assume, then, that he would procure whatever items needed to guarantee their spiritual safety (1 Cor 8:13).

Observe an additional line of reasoning. Within the New Testament letters which bear Paul’s name, there are six letters that bear explicit marks of a collaboration with a secretary (see Fig. 1). These references demonstrate the subscription of authenticity and generally include a summary, however brief, of the content of the letter. Galatians 6:11 and Philemon 19 are somewhat problematic for they may both refer to the entire letter or the point where Paul inserts his authoritative “seal of approval” as a mark of genuineness.[28] The point that needs to be considered here is that Paul demonstrates his inclusion of security measures in his letters.

Figure 1: This illustrates the widespread use of an amanuensis in the letters of Paul. See also P.Duke.inv. 7 (AD 5/6) and P.Duke.inv. 22 (30 BC–AD 640) as papyri examples of dual handwriting styles differentiating between the secretary and the author.

Moreover, what shall be said for the letters which do not have a subscription (2 Cor, 1 Thess, Eph, Phil, and the pastorals)? In 2 Corinthians 10:1, the Apostle Paul inserts his name into what some would consider a major section of the letter. The Apostle makes an emphatic statement autos de ego Paulos parakalo humas, which literally means “and I myself (Paul) entreat you.” It is reasonable to conclude that the passage is the beginning of Paul personally writing until the end of the letter,[29] but some scholars disagree with this conclusion.[30] However, since their conclusions are just as speculative, consistency points to 2 Corinthians 10–13 as a lengthy subscription or another letter appended to a completed letter.

The Thessalonian correspondence is somewhat unique in that the second epistle has a stronger authenticating subscription (2 Thess 5:17) than that of the first letter (1 Thess 5:27–28), that is why it is treated here. However, the case is strong that both letters are collaborations between Paul, Silvanus, and Timothy (1 Thess 1:1 and 2 Thess 1:1). Paul often takes the lead in the discussion.[31] By viewing the subscription in 2 Thessalonians 5:27–28 as a final authenticating mark, 1 Thessalonian’s ”gentle” subscription receives bolstering.

The pastorals are regarded as disputed-non-Pauline works.[32] This position is based primarily upon vocabulary and style differences calculated by a computer. These differences may be harmoniously accounted for by including the use of an amanuensis.[33] However, Harry Y. Gamble has suggested that “such theories” may satisfactorily explain a divergence in vocabulary and style, but not for the “conceptual and situational differences.”[34]

Richards makes a rather compelling case demonstrating from ancient letters that because of the “use of secretaries, letters were not rejected on the basis of style analyses alone.”[35] In other words, just because the letter sounds different that is no grounds for marking it as inauthentic because a secretary may influence style. Richards also demonstrates there were special seals used to enclose a letter; consequently, had Paul not given a subscription,[36] he could have (because this was typical) closed up the letter with a seal.[37] This may account for the Philippian letter being void of a postscript. Perhaps this is why Gamble concedes that there are other things that make “Pauline letters […] even more complex than is usually assumed.”[38]

The letter to the Ephesians poses itself as a unique epistolary production in that among the writings of Paul this was probably a circular letter written for a broad multi-congregation setting.[39] Abraham Malherbe provides parallels illustrating that Ephesians served a comparatively similar purpose as the literature of contemporary philosophical schools to provide general guidance for conventional everyday needs.[40] In this light, and with its traditional connection to Colossians, and Philemon (Col 4:10–14; Philem 23–24, and Eph 6:21), it is probable they were sent together.[41] The subscriptions in Colossians 4:18 and Philemon 19 would seemingly have sufficient authenticity for the letters associated with them, assuming there were no other authenticating measures we are unaware of.

The last argument above has been the longest to formulate. What must be remembered is that the Pauline corpus employs and contains subscriptions and other authenticating items. Differences in vocabulary and style are not sufficient to dismiss any letters of Paul because, according to Greco-Romans criterion, a secretary may so influence a letter that it may sound distinct. Nevertheless, since there are security measures employed, there is an implicit understanding that Paul would be in a position to verify the letter before sending it by means of a courier. Also, he may have had confidence in the secretary’s work such as Timothy, Silas, Titus, and Tertius (Rom 16:22).

Where from Here?

The controversy will more than likely continue. The degree of influence Paul’s secretary had over the composition of the corpus may never be totally realized or understood. It must be remembered that the freedom a secretary had in word choice varied according to need, author, and document; nevertheless, the author was held accountable for every word. That may be uncomfortable for some today, but this study is not a matter of what one wants the evidence to say, it is about what was more likely–probable– to happen.

The freedom of the secretary was a genuine method of letter writing, but it was not the only kind of role they played in epistolary production. There were methods to check the work of the letter before it went forth. Finally, Paul’s character based upon the internal evidence of the New Testament letters suggests that Paul would have and did procure the security procedures of the day to secure the message.

Consequently, the letters which bear his name are authentic according to Greco-Roman standards irrespective of secretarial influence.

Endnotes

  1. Wayne Jackson, Background Bible Study, rev. ed. (Stockton, CA: Christian Courier Publications, 2000), i.
  2. E. Randolph Richards, The Secretary in the Letters of Paul (Tübingen: Mohr, 1991), 11.
  3. Richard N. Longenecker, “On the Form, Function, and Authority of the New Testament Letters,” in Scripture and Truth, ed. D. A. Carson and John D. Woodbridge (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1983), 109.
  4. D. A. Carson, Douglas J. Moo, and Leon Morris, An Introduction to the New Testament (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1992), 233–34.
  5. Stanley K. Stowers, Letter Writing in Greco-Roman Antiquity, Library of Early Christianity 8, ed. Wayne A. Meeks (Philadelphia: Westminster, 1989), 28.
  6. Richards, Secretary, 23.
  7. Ibid., 23–24.
  8. Jerome Murphy-O’Connor, Paul the Letter-Writer: His World, His Options, His Skills (Collegeville, MN: Liturgical, 1995), 8–16, 16–34.
  9. Alan Millard, Reading and Writing in the Time of Jesus (Washington Square, NY: New York University Press, 2000), 175–76.
  10. Richards, Secretary, 41.
  11. Murphy-O’Connor, Paul the Letter-Writer, 11.
  12. Murphy-O’Connor, Paul the Letter-Writer, 13–14; Richards, Secretary, 44–47.
  13. E. Iliff Robson, “Composition and Dictation in New Testament Books,” JTS 18 (1917): 291.
  14. Murphy-O’Connor, Paul the Letter-Writer, 14.
  15. Richards, Secretary, 52.
  16. Gordon J. Bahr, “Paul and Letter Writing in the First Century,” CBQ 28 (1966): 466–67; cf. Richards, Secretary, 92–97.
  17. Richards, Secretary, 49.
  18. Ibid., 50.
  19. Ibid., 52.
  20. Ibid., 51.
  21. Longenecker, “Form, Function, and Authority,” 108.
  22. Gordon J. Bahr, “The Subscriptions in the Pauline Letters,” JBL 2 (1968): 28-30
  23. Richard N. Longenecker, “Ancient Amanuenses and the Pauline Epistles,” in New Dimensions in New Testament Study, ed. Richard N. Longenecker and Merrill C. Tenney (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1974), 291.
  24. Roy Bowen Ward, “How to Study the New Testament,” in The World of the New Testament, ed. Abraham J. Malherbe. Living Word Commentary 1, ed. Everett Ferguson (Abilene, TX: Abilene Christian University Press, 1984), 171.
  25. See Charles B. Cousar, The Letters of Paul, Interpreting Biblical Texts (Nashville: Abingdon, 1996), 89; Carson, Moo, and Morris, An Introduction, 262.
  26. Cousar, Letters of Paul, 30.
  27. Stowers, Letter Writing, 28–29.
  28. Frederick Field, Notes on the Translation of the New Testament (1899; repr., Peabody: Hendrickson, 1994), 191; Longenecker, “Form, Function, and Authority,” 108; Murphy-O’Connor, Paul the Letter-Writer, 28; Richards, Secretary, 179–80.
  29. Richards, Secretary, 125–26.
  30. Murphy-O’Connor, Paul the Letter-Writer, 30–31.
  31. Ibid., 19–20.
  32. Cousar, Letters of Paul, 163–64.
  33. Longenecker, “Ancient Amanuenses,” 292–94; Carson, Moo, and Morris, An Introduction, 359–62.
  34. Harry Y. Gamble, “Amanuensis,” ABD 1:72.
  35. Richards, Secretary, 97 (cf. 92–97).
  36. Longenecker, though, believes Paul did (“Ancient Amanuenses,” 292).
  37. Richards, Secretary, 93.
  38. Gamble, “Amanuensis,” 72.
  39. Carson, Moo, and Morris, An Introduction, 309–11.
  40. Abraham J. Malherbe, Moral Exhortation, A Greco-Roman Sourcebook, Library of Early Christianity 4, ed. Wayne A. Meeks (Philadelphia: Westminster, 1986), 149–160.
  41. William Barclay, The Letters to the Philippians, Colossians, and Thessalonians, rev. ed. (Louisville, KY: Westminster, 1975), 168–70. Granted, critical scholars tend to discount the authorship of Paul of Philippians, Colossians and Ephesians.

Works Cited

Bahr, Gordon J. “Paul and Letter Writing in the First Century.” Catholic Biblical Quarterly 28 (1966): 465-77.

—. “The Subscriptions in the Pauline Letters.” Journal of Biblical Literature 2 (1968): 27-41.

Barclay, William. The Letters to the Philippians, Colossians, and Thessalonians. Revised ed. Louisville, KY: Westminster, 1975.

Carson, Donald A., Douglas J. Moo, and Leon Morris. An Introduction to the New Testament. Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1992.

Cousar, Charles B. The Letters of Paul. IBT. Nashville: Abingdon, 1996.

Field, Frederick. Notes on the Translation of the New Testament. 1899 ed. Peabody: Hendrickson, 1994.

Gamble, Harry Y. “Amanuensis.” Pages 72–73 in vol. 1 of Anchor Bible Dictionary. Edited by David Noel Freedman. New York: Doubleday, 1992.

Longenecker, Richard N. “Ancient Amanuenses and the Pauline Epistles.” Pages 281–97 in New Dimensions in New Testament Study. Edited by Richard N. Longenecker and Merrill C. Tenney. Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1974.

—. “On the Form, Function, and Authority of the New Testament Letters.” Pages 101–14 in Scripture and Truth. Edited by Donald A. Carson and John D. Woodbridge. Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1983.

Malherbe, Abraham J. Moral Exhortation, A Greco-Roman Sourcebook. LEC 4. Edited by Wayne A. Meeks. Philadelphia, PA: Westminster, 1986.

Millard, Alan. Reading and Writing in the Time of Jesus. Washington Square, NY: New York University Press, 2000.

Murphy-O’Connor, Jerome. Paul the Letter-Writer: His World, His Options, His Skills. Collegeville, MN: Liturgical, 1995.

Richards, E. Randolph. The Secretary in the Letters of Paul. Tübingen: Mohr, 1991.

Robson, E. Iliff. “Composition and Dictation in New Testament Books.” Journal of Theological Studies 18 (1917):288-301.

Stowers, Stanley K. Letter Writing in Greco-Roman Antiquity. LEC 8. Edited by Wayne A. Meeks. Philadelphia, PA: Westminster, 1989.

Ward, Roy Bowen. “How to Study the New Testament.” The World of the New Testament. Edited by Abraham J. Malherbe. The Living Word Commentary: New Testament 1. Edited by Everett Ferguson. Abilene, TX: Abilene Christian University Press, 1984.

A Brief Look at Patronage as Background for the New Testament

On By Jovan PayesIn 2017, Freed-Hardeman University, Graduate Work, Greco-Roman World, Interpretation, Luke, New Testament, New Testament Background, New Testament World, Paul's Letters, Research Papers, Roman Empire, Romans, Social Conventions, Technical Studies, Women Studies
college papers

The present study is an inquiry into the interconnected reciprocal nature of patronage in the Greco-Roman imperial social setting, as one background component from the New Testament world. One would be wrong to think that such a social dynamic’s presence was minimal. In actuality, patronage and its vocabulary not only appears specifically in the New Testament (Luke 22:25; Acts 10:38; Rom 16:2; Philm 17-20, Phil 4:14-20, etc), but the social reciprocal dynamics in which its value and cultural powers are also assumed (shame, honor, unity, gratitude, fellowship, etc.). The reader who knows what to look for will see it in numerous contexts shaping the life of the body.[1] Unfortunately, the many elements vital to the matrix of patronage can only be pointed to. Yet, as Bruce J. Malina observes, it was “the most significant form of social interaction in the limited-good world of the first century is an informal principle of reciprocity, a sort of implicit, non-legal contractual obligation, unenforceable by any authority apart from one’s sense of honor and shame.”[2] The challenge in this paper is to briefly and accurately describe it.

In seeking to understand the New Testament accurately, scholars propose various exegetical principles and contextualizing models to accomplish this task.[3] The process here requires an approach which appreciates the cultural background of the New Testament to contextualize its vocabulary. This, Albert A. Bell reminds, is the “crucial part of understanding any written text.”[4] Greco-Roman words have a socially conditioned context that the modern reader may not readily identify. “Without a comprehension of the sociological dynamics of that world, our understanding… is terribly superficial at best and woefully mistaken at worst.”[5] The most crucial need for the reader of the New Testament, then, is to be able to bridge the cultural and time gap between the original (native) context and the reader’s contemporary context. This linguistic and cultural divide can be managed. In advancing a cultural-anthropological reading model, Jerome H. Neyrey argues that one can avoid ethnocentric and anachronistic readings of Paul (and the New Testament) by appreciating the difference between reading him as member of the same culture (an emic reading), and by reading him informed by the analytical and descriptive works of specialists and ethnographers (an etic reading).[6] As one gets closer to this “emic reading,” the modern reader comes closer to better appreciate the symbolic universe of Paul’s and Jesus’ culture.[7] The goal here is to gain a realistic perception from “native informants” which can illustrate and contextualize patronage as a Greco-Roman phenomenon.[8]

The presentation to follow will demonstrate how significant the social form of patronage was in the daily life of the Greco-Roman world, it will outline the vocabulary of patronage in Latin and Greek primary sources, it will sharpen this outline to differentiate between political and social patronage, and then offer a realistic scenarios that can illuminate reading the New Testament in its social and cultural world.

Daily Significance of Patronage

In modern analogy, patronage was like an ancient informal “welfare system.” Social services, like the modern model of the United States, would have been quite foreign. Instead, patronage was a cultural phenomenon in which there was a reciprocal relationship between the upper class and the lower class. It benefited lower classes with protection and patronage by means of reasonable support (legal, financial, medical, marital, etc.) for public support, the running of errands, odd jobs, escorting through streets, and providing social honor in exchange (a return). In exchange for the daily allowance (sportula), the client was at the patron’s call. Thus, it was a form of social investment between patron-client; interestingly, even slaves of wealthy households were known to have clients who hoped the slave could use their influence upon their master.[9] Greco-Roman and Christian scholarship is unequivocal about the daily and social significance of the patron-client network of relationships.[10]

Martial, in his colorful Epigrams, clocks what city life was like in the urbs (4.8.1-4): “The first and second hours wear out clients greeting their patrons.” The imagery evokes the crushing nature of the daily dependence of clients upon their patronus. A step further, Juvenal shows how important this allowance of money was for the everyday professional and collegia with his sarcastic words in the Satires (1.95-126):

For no deity is held in such reverence amongst us as Wealth; though as yet, O baneful money, thou hast no temple of thine own; not yet have we reared altars to Money in like manner as we worship Peace and Honour, Victory and Virtue, or that Concord that clatters when we salute her nest.[11]

This fits the common view that the patron-client phenomena were important to the daily life of every social stratum of the Greco-Roman world. To this point, Jérôme Carcopinodescribes that whether employed or unemployed, freedman or the parasite do-nothing, aristocrats or lower plebeians, clients “were no sooner out of bed than they were in the grip of the duties inseparable from being a ‘client.’ […] there was no man in Rome who did not feel himself bound to someone more powerful above him by the same obligations of respect, or, to use the technical term, the same obsequium.”[12] This honor-bound relationship allowed those in various professions and collegia to survive by means of this small daily “dole as their main source of revenue.”

Patronage in Latin and Greek Sources

Extant Greek and Latin sources (literary and epigraphic) speak of patronage, benefaction, and euergetism (good-doing) from political and social perspectives. Ideas such protection, assistance, help, advocacy, and philanthropy appear. Consider the following samples. It seems that patronage was initially borne out of political power and civic duty, but that distinction apparently broke down over time into a social network between the upper and lower classes in the Greco-Roman world among the rich, the poor, the freedman and freedwoman.[13]

The Roman historian Livy stretches back about four centuries to the early Roman Republic and recounts the story of Cincinnatus, the famed aristocratic plebeian consul, turn poor plebeian farmer, turn dictator, turn savior of Roman (History of Rome 3.26-29). According to Livy, his actions as dictator were reciprocated with honor and status. Livy frames (stylizes?) the response of the army as recognizing “the benefit [beneficii] they had received at his hands,” honored him with a golden crown, and “saluted him as their protector [patronum salutaverit]” (History of Rome 3.29.3). They had become his “clients,” and Cincinnatus would use this social bond to his advantage to “clear” the charges against his son Caeso who was on the run for charges of murder. The protector of Rome, then, returned his powers of dictator and returned to the rustic farm life. Later, when Augustus consolidates his power, Tacitus recounts his use of “gratuities” (donis) among the military and the poor (Annals 1.2). Michael Grant[14] interprets this as Augustus letting “it be understood that the old institution of patrons and clients had been recast, so that henceforward all the people were his own, personal clients, including the poorest citizens.” Thus, as principis Augustus and the emperors after him would portray (politically?) to the citizens of Rome and its subjects a bond of reciprocal loyalty.

Greek sources also illuminate various aspects of patronage. In the fifth century BCE, Sophocles frames the tragic Oedipus as gratefully exchanging protection from Thebes and “help [prostátisi] of the dread goddesses” who reigns in their districts, with obtaining “a great savior [sōtēr’] for this city, and troubles for my enemies” in him (Oedipus at Colunus 455-460). The Apocrypha[15] likewise points to the political upheavals in the Maccabean storyline connected to concepts of patronage. In 2 Maccabees, Simon slanders Onias, who is designated “a plotter against the government the man who was the benefactor [tòn euergétēn] of the city, the protector [tòn kēdemóna] of his compatriots, and a zealot for the laws” (4:2).[16]

In 3 Maccabees 3:13-29, “King Ptolemy Philopater” declares to his “generals and soldiers” that despite his goodwill (philanthrōpía), a desire to do good (eū poiēsaí), and to honor (timēsai) in the Jewish temple (3:15-17), the Jews “manifest ill-will toward us” and are “the only people among all nations who hold their heads high in defiance of kings and their own benefactors [euergétais], and are unwilling to regard any action as sincere” (3:19). The accommodative and benevolent king (philanthrópōs 3:20) declares that such rebellious Jews should be arrested, bound, and deported and that any who harbor them should be severely punished (3:25-29). Eventually, Philopator descends upon the Jews but is subdued by two angels. The king breaks down to pity and tears, and blames and threatens his “friends” (toís phílois):  “You are committing treason and surpassing tyrants in cruelty; and even me, your benefactor [euergétēn]” (6:24).

Political and Social Patronage in Rome

In the Greco-Roman world of the first century CE, there appears to be evidence distinguishing between political and social patronage. This can be confusing since sources often use terms like benefactor, euergetes, and patron in the process of discussion. The masculine form of the Greek prostát– (see verbal use above for “help”) is somewhat problematic. It is often considered synonymous with the Latin patronus. Interestingly, the New Testament the feminine form προστάτις is used in Romans 16:2 and translated as patron and benefactor (ESV; NIV, NRSV, HCSB). Erlend D. MacGillivray[17] takes exception to the view that these two forms are completely synonymous. The masculine appears in both Attic Greek and in the Roman Empire and carries both legal and a variety of leadership benefaction roles, but not the feminine form. MacGillivray argues that applying the masculine meaning upon prostátis is exegetically problematic for this reason. Benefaction is in view, but one must distinguish between political patronage from some interpersonal social networking.

MacGillivray argues that understanding prostátis depends, then, upon understanding the fluid nature of ancient Mediterranean reciprocal dynamics, recognizing the patron-client model is far too limiting and misleading. There is a difference between the narrow and nuanced meaning of classical patronage and the broad euergetistic/altruistic benefaction. While epigraphical gratitude evidence shows that prostátis and prostátes imply civic prestige, the nature of the evidence is, however, often weak to force synonymity. Part of the problem stems from the near normative templates in honorary Greco-Roman epigraphs that do not always neatly distinguish between the various kinds of patronage. Thus, the presence of these terms do not prove exclusively a classical patronage/patronus; consequently, MacGillivray’s work argues that prostátis and prostátes are not demonstrably synonymous.

R. A. Kearsley[18] extends this trajectory and explores several first century CE gratitude (honorarium) inscriptions shedding light on the first-century distinction between political and social patronage. These aristocratic women are named, Iunia Theodora and Claudia Metrodora, and are celebrated as female benefactors/patrons who operated in mid-first century CE Asia Minor. The cities of Lycia (Myra, Patara, Tel-messos) recount the influence of Theodora. Theodora apparently had multiple-citizenships, she freely shared her wealth, applied influenced for political and commercial purposes, and is described consistently in benefactor terms (sōphronōs, philolúkios) in Lycia. Such amounts to Theodora functioning as a social benefactor. On the other hand, Metrodora of Chiot Island likewise held multiple-citizenships, did hold political office as magistrate (stephanephoros), which required benefaction toward the people although she surpassed such requirements. She functioned in banquets, directed imperial games, gymnasiarch, public bathhouse donation, basileia in Ionia, and was praised for her public virtue. She was a benefactor as part of holding office.

Realistic Patronage Scenarios for Reading the New Testament

The above illustrations provide insight into the deep and ancient tradition of patronage and how such played out in various settings. There are two passages where patronage vocabulary is explicitly found in the New Testament.

First, in Luke, the political aspect of patronage is evident in Jesus’ counter-intuitive teaching on greatness. Jesus corrects the “greatness debate” among the disciples by saying,

“The kings of the Gentiles exercise lordship over them, and those in authority over them are called benefactors [euergétai]. But not so with you. Rather, let the greatest among you become as the youngest, and the leader as one who serves” (22:25-26).

Frederick W. Danker observes, euergétai “served as a title for rulers in Syria and Egypt… In many cases the title would conceal tyranny under extravagant expenditure” (cf. Greek Esther 16:2-3, 13-14).[19] One might argue that Jesus is taking for granted a political euergétai known to abuse such roles, and parts from the fundamental principle of the patron-client relationship: “a service performed or a favor done shall not be transformed into status and honor.”[20] Jesus’ leadership principle, then, is that one serves detached from the demands of reciprocity and the honor and status it brings (cf. Acts 10:38).[21]

Second, in Romans 16:1-2 patronage appears to have a social component. Paul commends Phoebe to the church as “a servant of the church at Cenchreae” and as one who should be helped —reciprocally— “for she has been a patron [prostátis] of many and of myself as well.” Caroline F. Whelan[22] relates this passage to the context of Roman reciprocal social conventions within associations (collegia). Whelan maintains that women not only had the Roman legal standing to operate their wealth independently of guardians, they also functioned as civic patrons for collegia. Secondly, comparable “recommendation” letters reveal two types of reciprocal relationships. There is the superior-inferior recommendation rhetoric, and two, the social-equals recommendation rhetoric; each reflecting in some sense the inherent nature of reciprocity in Rome’s social structure, the matrix of which fuses together the economic and social. Romans 16:1-2, then, points to one of these realistic scenarios. Whelan argues that the patronage between social equals (amica, friends) is probably in view. Phoebe needs Paul’s influence among those addressed in Romans 16 (thus the recommendation), but as “equals” such rhetoric is not for his own social benefit. Instead, it is a gesture of gratitude for her own social activity as a social patron (euergetistic) to the collegia of the church in Cenchrea.

Conclusion

Robert Wilken asserts: “We have a distorted view of the history of early Christianity… The historian of Christianity has given the impression that the rest of the canvas is simply background for the closeup —relegating the general history of the times to an introductory chapter of vague generalities.”[23] Hopefully, this paper provides a closer, native (emic) reading. The smaller the cultural and linguistic gap is, the more accurate the reading. May this paper accomplish its task, to gain realistic perceptions from primary sources which can illustrate and contextualize patronage as an important Greco-Roman imperial phenomenon.

Endnotes

  1. David A. deSilva, “Honor and Shame,” “Patronage,” DNTB 518-22, 766-71; Donald Walker, “Benefactor,” DNTB 157-59; Halvor Moxnes, “Patron-Client Relations and the New Community in Luke-Acts,” in The Social World of Luke-Acts, ed. J. H. Neyrey (1991; repr., Peabody: Hendrickson, 1993), 241-68; Everett Ferguson, Backgrounds of Early Christianity, 3rd ed. (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2003), 66-69.
  2. Bruce J. Malina, The New Testament World (Louisville: John Knox, 1981), 80.
  3. Ralph P. Martin, “Approaches to New Testament Exegesis,” in New Testament Interpretation, ed. I. Howard Marshall (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1977), 220-51.
  4. Albert A. Bell, Jr., Exploring the New Testament World (Nashville: Nelson, 1998), 2.
  5. M. Robert Mulholland, Jr., “Sociological Criticism,” in Interpreting the New Testament, eds. David A. Black and David S. Dockery (Nashville: B&H, 2001), 171.
  6. Jerome H. Neyrey, Paul, In Other Words (Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 1990), 13.
  7. Neyrey, Paul, 14-17. Neyrey’s distinctions and concerns have value, but he makes a hardline dichotomy between Paul as one who receives supra-cultural insight (i.e., from God) and Paul as a fully incarnated product of his times (18). This distinction ignores Paul’s stated role from God. This is one of Mulholland’s four critiques of this model, it tends to be human-centered, often grounded in dynamic models foreign to the Roman world, imposes the model on the evidence, and lends itself to sociological reductionism (“Sociological Criticism,” 178-80).
  8. David A. deSilva, The Hope of Glory: Honor Discourse and New Testament Interpretation (Collegeville: Liturgical, 1999). The “native informants” are “our best instructors” (xi).
  9. Bell, Exploring the New Testament World, 191-92.
  10. Ferguson, Backgrounds, 67; Florence DuPont, Daily Life in Ancient Rome, trans. C. Woodall (Oxford: Blackwell, 1993); Micahel Grant, A Social History of Greece and Rome (New York: Scribner’s Sons, 1992).
  11. Juvenal, Satire 1.95-126, http://sourcebooks.fordham.edu/halsall/ancient/juv-sat1eng.asp.
  12. Jérôme Carcopino, Daily Life in Ancient Rome, ed. Henry T. Rowell, trans. E. O. Lorimer (1940; repr., New Haven: Yale University, 1968), 171.
  13. Grant, Social History of Greece and Rome, 30, 54, 70-76, 114-119.
  14. Grant, Social History of Greece and Rome, 75-76.
  15. See also the verbal, and substantival, usages in Wisdom 3:5, 11:5, 13, 16:2, 19:13-14; 2 Macc 8:6; 4 Macc 8:6; Greek Esther 16:2-3 = 8:12c (tōn euergetoúntōn), 13 = 8:12n (euergétēn). Of these sources, Mordecai is framed as sōtēra and euergétēn (cf. God in LXX Psa 12:6, 56:3, 114:7).
  16. Quotations for the Old Testament Apocrypha are taken from New Revised Standard Version of the Holy Bible (Nashville: Nelson, 1989). The Greek text is from Septuaginta (Stuttgart: Deutsche Bibelgesellschaft, 1996).
  17. Erlend D. MacGillivray, “Romans 16:2, prostátis/prostátes, and the Application of Reciprocal Relationships to New Testament Texts,” NovT 53 (2011): 183-99.
  18. R. A. Kearsley, “Women in Public Life in the Roman East: Iunia Theodora, Claudia Metrodora and Phoebe, Benefactress of Paul,” TynB 50.2 (1999): 189-211.
  19. Frederick W. Danker, Jesus and the New Age According to St. Luke (St. Louis: Clayton Publishing, 1979), 222.
  20. Moxnes, “Patron-Client Relations,” 261.
  21. Halvor Moxnes, The Economy of the Kingdom (1988; repr., Eugene: Wipf & Stock, 2004), 158.
  22. Caroline F. Whelan, “Amica Pauli: The Role of Phoebe in the Early Church,” JSNT 49 (1993): 67-85.
  23. Robert L. Wilken, The Christians as the Romans Saw Them (New Haven: Yale University, 1984), xiv.

Bibliography

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Carcopino, Jérôme. Daily Life in Ancient Rome: The People and the City at the Height of the Empire. Edited by Henry T. Rowell. Translated by E. O. Lorimer. 1940. Repr., New Haven, CT: Yale University, 1968.

Danker, Frederick W. Jesus and the New Age According to St. Luke: A Commentary on the Third Gospel. 1972. Repr., St. Louis, MO: Clayton Publishing, 1979.

deSilva, David A. “Honor and Shame.” DNTB. 518-22.

deSilva, David A. The Hope of Glory: Honor Discourse and New Testament Interpretation. Collegeville, MN: Liturgical Press, 1999.

deSilva, David A. “Patronage” DNTB. 766-71.

DuPont, Florence. Daily Life in Ancient Rome. Translated by Christopher Woodall. Oxford: Blackwell, 1993.

Ferguson, Everett. Backgrounds of Early Christianity. 3rd edition. Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2003.

Grant, Michael. A Social History of Greece and Rome. New York, NY: Scribner’s Sons, 1992.

Kearsley, R. A. “Women in Public Life in the Roman East: Iunia Theodora, Claudia Metrodora and Phoebe, Benefactress of Paul.” TynB 50.2 (1999): 189-211.

MacGillivray, Erlend D. “Romans 16:2, prostátis/prostátes, and the Application of Reciprocal Relationships to New Testament Texts.” NovT 53 (2011): 183-99.

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Moxnes, Halvor. The Economy of the Kingdom: Social Conflict and Economic Relations in Luke’s Gospel. Minneapolis, MN: Augsburg Fortress, 1988. Repr., Eugene, OR: Wipf & Stock, 2004.

——-. “Patron-Client Relations and the New Community in Luke-Acts.” Pages 241-68 in The Social World of Luke-Acts: Models for Interpretation. Edited by Jerome H. Neyrey. 1991. Repr., Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 1993.

Mulholland, M. Robert, Jr. “Sociological Criticism.” Pages 170-86 in Interpreting the New Testament: Essays on Methods and Issues. Edited by David Alan Black and David S. Dockery. Nashville, TN: B&H, 2001.

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Whelan, Caroline F. “Amica Pauli: The Role of Phoebe in the Early Church.” JSNT 49 (1993): 67-85.

Wilken, Robert L. The Christians as the Romans Saw Them. New Haven, CT: Yale University, 1984.