Harvard Divinity School

Revelation, Realia, and Religion: Archaeology in the Interpretation of the Apocalypse

Author(s): Steven J. Friesen
Source: The Harvard Theological Review, Vol. 88, No. 3 (Jul., 1995), pp. 291-314
Published by: Cambridge University Press on behalf of the Harvard Divinity School
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Revelation,Realia,andReligion:
Archaeologyin the Interpretation
of the
Apocalypse
Steven J. Friesen
University of Missouri-Columbia

T he use of archaeological materials for interpreting New Testa-

ment texts poses many problems. While many archaeologists have in-
terpreted the Hebrew Bible,' this early interface of archaeology and the
study of the Hebrew scriptures is due in part to the fact that the relation-
ship between biblical texts and the realia from Palestine seemed more di-
rect. Since archaeological materials tend to deal with mainstream culture
and since the texts from Israel and Judah were connected to institutions
that were part of that area's dominant culture, the study of archaeology has
contributed much to an understanding of the Hebrew scriptures.
The situation is quite different in the case of New Testament studies. In
1985, William Dever wrote that "New Testament archaeology scarcely exists
as a field of inquiry, much less as an academic discipline"2; the same is
true today. Discussions about the historical Jesus are turning increasingly

'For a review and analysis of the last fifty years, see William G. Dever, "Syro-Palestinian
and Biblical Archaeology," in Douglas A. Knight and Gene Tucker, eds., The Hebrew Bible
and Its Modern Interpreters (Minneapolis: Fortress and Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1985); Carol
Meyers and Eric Meyers, "Expanding the Frontiers of Biblical Archaeology," Eretz-Israel 20
(1989) 140-47.
2Dever, "Syro-Palestinian and Biblical Archaeology," 66.

HTR 88:3 (1995) 291-314

292 HARVARD THEOLOGICAL REVIEW

toward archaeological evidence3 for much the same reason that realia have
been used in the interpretationof the Hebrew Bible. Since Jesus was active
in Palestine, some overlap should exist between the concerns reflected in
the texts and the realia from Palestine.4
Greater difficulties arise in considering New Testament texts with inter-
ests outside Palestine. The material remains from Mediterranean cities re-
flect polytheistic socioreligious systems, and the relationship of the churches
to these contexts is opaque. The discovery of the points at which archaeo-
logical and textual materials address common concerns therefore becomes
difficult. It is still curious, however, that there have been few attempts to
articulate a rationale for the use of archaeology in New Testament studies
on topics that do not focus on Palestine.5
The relationship of realia to New Testament texts should not be treated
as a theoretical problem to be solved. It is more helpful to recognize that
the tension between texts and realia has generated a realm of inquiry within
which one can explore the future of biblical studies. In this article, I enter
that realm through the Book of Revelation and address the larger question
of the hermeneutical usefulness of realia. Use of Revelation as a point of
entry, moreover, leads immediately to crucial issues of the twentieth cen-
tury-bibical studies and the use and abuse of international power.
In this article, I first evaluate the work of two prominent commentators
on the Book of Revelation who made the most extensive use of archaeo-
logical materials. In the final section, I argue that a different kind of en-
gagement with archaeological evidence could bring significant benefits to
the methods and findings of studies of Revelation in particular and New
Testament studies in general. I conclude that archaeological materials offer
an opportunity to free one's thinking and one's work from certain disciplin-
ary strictures.

* William Ramsay'sGood Intentions

In order to understand William M. Ramsay's use of archaeological data,
it is necessary first to consider his life experiences, interpretation of his-

3Richard A. Horsley, "The Historical Jesus and Archaeology of the Galilee: Questions
from Historical Jesus Research to Archaeologists," SBL Seminar Papers, 1994 91-135; Dou-
glas E. Oakman, "The Archaeology of First-Century Galilee and the Social Interpretation of
the Historical Jesus," SBL Seminar Papers, 1994 220-51; Jonathan L. Reed, "Population
Numbers, Urbanization, and Economics: Galilean Archaeology and the Historical Jesus," SBL
Seminar Papers, 1994 203-19; James F. Strange, "First-Century Galilee from Archaeology
and from the Texts," SBL Seminar Papers, 1994 81-90.
4For a recent attempt in encyclopedic format, see John J. Rousseau and Rami Arav, Jesus
and His World: An Archaeological and Cultural Dictionary (Minneapolis: Fortress, 1995).
5James F. Strange, "Archaeology and the New Testament?" BA 56 (1993) 153-57.
 STEVEN FRIESEN 293

tory, and political location, because his interpretation of Revelation was

inextricably bound up in his views on history and imperialism. In April
1909, Sir William Ramsay and Lady Ramsay were in Constantinople, caught
in the crossfire of the second major battle of the Young Turk Rebellion.
Friends had warned the distinguished professor from Aberdeen not to travel
to Turkey, given the tumultuous events of the preceding summer, but he
persisted. After all, Ramsay was a seasoned traveler, having visited the
area many times during the preceding quarter century, and was sympathetic
toward the kinds of reforms envisioned by the Young Turks.6 Trapped in
the ancient city in 1909, Ramsay sensed the historic nature of the battles
and began to record the many voices he encountered as Turkey struggled
to reorganize and restore order.
The book of his reflections was published by the year's end. The text is
a pastiche of personal, political, historical, and theological vignettes. The
text jolts along from tales of women kidnapped by mountain tribes, to
descriptions of the details of newly discovered Byzantine chancel screens,
to bloody ethnic and religious massacres. Ramsay knew better than to claim
his reporting was objective. In fact, in the preface he clearly stated the
opinions that guided his narrative:
(1) I have a strongbelief in the true patriotismand noble purposeof
many leading Young Turks and of the movementgenerally. (2) The
Revolution is a phase of the long conflict which has been waged
throughouthistoricalmemorybetweenAsia and Europe.At presentit
is introducingEuropeanscience and orderinto Turkey;but it is essen-
tially patriotic,and will become more and moredefinitelynational.(3)
It is closely implicatedin the greatEuropeanquestions,and especially
that of the relationbetween Britainand Germany.My belief is that
some of the most seriousdifficultieswhich face the YoungTurkspro-
ceed from the divergentaims of those two countries;but that the true
interestsof all threeare identical;and that an agreementbetweenGer-
many and Britaincould be made. The chief difficulty which prevents
such an agreementlies in the deep-seateddisbelief with which each
countryregardsthe professionsof the other.7
Certain aspects of Ramsay's stated presuppositions inform the under-
standing of his work on Revelation. Ramsay understood the contemporary
problems in Turkey to be part of two grand scenarios. The first scenario
was that of the recent engagements between competing imperial powers.
He recognized that the problems of the Ottoman Empire were not simply
isolated internal events; the conflicts caused by Turkish, British, German,

6William M. Ramsay, The Revolution in Constantinople and Turkey (London: Hodder &
Stoughton, 1909) with episodes and photographs by Lady Ramsay 3-20.
7Ibid., iv.
294 HARVARD THEOLOGICAL REVIEW

French, and Russian imperial designs were being played out on the streets
of Constantinople.
The second scenario was much broader. According to Ramsay, the ten-
sion between Europe and Asia was the generative force in world history.
"In the contact of East and West originates the movement of history,"8 he
asserted at the beginning of his study on the cities of the seven churches
of Revelation. The location of these churches in western Asia Minor is
crucial for his understanding of Revelation, because this region was pre-
cisely the area where the meeting of East and West had the longest his-
tory.9 Sometimes Oriental influence was stronger there; at other times
European values and institutions prevailed. As dissent grew within the
Turkish elite and Ottoman power waned, Ramsay perceived the final de-
mise of Oriental culture in this region. The turning point had actually been
the partial freedom of European Greece, won in the 1820s. Since that time,
"the steady, inexorable, irresistible spread of European,and mainly of Greek,
influence in the western parts of Asia Minor is by far the most striking fact
in moder Turkey .... Orientalism is ebbing and dying in the country. The
tide of western ideas and western thoughts is flowing and strong."'0
In Ramsay's opinion, only one other period in history was more impor-
tant than the final decades of Ottoman rule in terms of the significant
meeting of Orient and Occident. The cities of Roman Asia in the first
century CE were the setting for an unprecedented breakthrough in human
history-the interpenetration of the Greek and Asiatic spirits in the early
Christian churches. The Greco-Asiatic cities were "small islets in the great
sea of stagnant, unruffled, immovable Orientalism,"'1 but the cities them-
selves were exciting intellectual environments. Here a mixture of races-
Greek colonists, Jewish settlers, native inhabitants, and others-produced a
precocious development of human potential, with results that were instruc-
tive for the Roman province of Asia, the Ottoman Empire, and the British
Commonwealth of Nations.
Thus [in the first-century cities of Asia] an amalgamation of Oriental
and European races and intellect, manners and law, was being worked
out practically in the collision and competition of such diverse ele-
ments. It was an experiment in a direction that is often theorized about
and discussed at the present day. Can the east take on the western
character? Can the Asiatic be made like a European? In one sense that

8William M. Ramsay, The Letters to the Seven Churches of Asia and Their Place in the
Plan of the Apocalypse (1904; reprinted Grand Rapids, MI: Baker, 1979) v.
9Ramsay, Letters to the Seven Churches, 215-27; idem, Impressions of Turkey During
Twelve Years' Wanderings (London: Hodder & Stoughton, 1897) 126-36.
'0Ramsay, Impressions of Turkey, 133, 158.
''Ramsay, Letters to the Seven Churches, 135.
 STEVEN FRIESEN 295

is impossible:in anothersense it was done in the Graeco-Asiaticcit-

ies, and can be done again.12
The problem in the first century, according to Ramsay, was that under
Roman imperial rule the cities flourished materially and intellectually but
could not reach their full spiritual potential. Only the Pauline-influenced
Christians within the cities met that spiritual challenge. As a Jew of the
Diaspora, the apostle Paul had the religious and cultural resources in his
gospel to bring together Asia and Europe, polar forces in human history.13
His combination of Greek philosophy and Jewish religion and morality
lacked one important element, however-namely, a proper skepticism to-
ward Roman rule. The author of Revelation had to supply this missing
element. Paul thought that the church could develop under the protection of
the empire. John, the Jew from Palestine who wrote Revelation, was able
to surpass Paul and renounce allegiance to Rome. John was actually forced
into this position because, according to Ramsay, the policy of insisting that
Christians sacrifice to the emperors in order to test their loyalty developed
in the period between Paul and John.'4 The new conflict between the king-
dom of God and the kingdom of Augustus led to John's exile on Patmos
and reminded John of his Oriental roots. On Patmos, John's Hellenistic
(that is, Occidental) worldview was temporarily set aside as he became a
Hebrew seer for a time.
Nothing but the Orientalpower of separatingoneself from the world
and immersingoneself in the Divine could standthe strainof thatlong
vigil on the shore of Patmos.Nothing but a Vision was possible for
him; and the Vision, full of Hebraicimagery and the traces of late
Hebrewliteraturewhich all can see, yet also often penetratedwith a
Hellenistand Hellenic spiritso subtleand delicatethat few can appre-
ciate it, was slowly writtendown, and took form as the Revelationof
St. John.15
For Ramsay, the crucial moment came when John attempted to address
the seven churches in an epistolary format (Revelation 1-3). At that point,
the symbolism imposed on John by apocalyptic convention became too
burdensome.16
In them [the letters] he makes some attempt to keep up the symbolism
which was prescribed by the traditional principles of apocalyptic com-
position; but such imagery is too awkward and cumbrous for the epis-

'2Ibid., 134.
'3Ibid., 140-41.
'4Ibid., 202-3.
'5Ibid., 87.
16Ibid., 69-72.
296 HARVARD THEOLOGICAL REVIEW

tolary form, and has exerted little influence on the Seven Letters. The
traditional apocalyptic form breaks in his hands, and he throws away
the shattered fragments.17
John's protracted ordeal on Patmos was beneficial in the end. The tem-
porary return to the "Oriental power of separating oneself from the world
and immersing oneself in the Divine" turned out to be the training that later
enabled John to write the fourth gospel. "In no other way could man rise
to that superhuman level, on which the Fourth Gospel is pitched, and be
able to gaze with steady unwavering eyes on the eternal and the Divine and
to remain so unconscious of the ephemeral world."18
The letters to the seven churches are therefore not merely important
examples of early Christian writing. In Ramsay's view, which was heavily
influenced by themes that supported British imperialism, the seven letters
stand at the turning point of world history. What the Roman Empire could
not accomplish-the resolution of the meeting of Orient and Occident-
early Christians accomplished in a prototypical fashion. In his own day, the
demise of the Oriental spirit seemed to be at hand in the Young Turk
Rebellion.
One may still ask why Ramsay emphasized archaeological materials in
his study. Three motives are clear. The first has to do with one crucial
distinction between the Oriental and Occidental spirits.
We Occidentalsare accustomedto struggleagainstNature,and by un-
derstanding Nature's laws to subjugate her to our needs. . . . Thus in
numberless ways we refuse to yield to the influences that surround us,
and by hardworkrise superiorin some degreeto them. ... There [in
the "Orient"] man is far more under the influence of nature; and hence
results a homogeneity of character in each place which is surprising to
the Western traveler, and which he can hardly believe or realise with-
out long experience. Partly that subjection may be due to the fact that
nature and the power of nature are on a vaster scale in Asia. ... In
Asia mankind has accepted nature; and the attempts to struggle against
it have been almost wholly confined to a remote past or to European
settlers.19
In the Orient, according to Ramsay, nature molds the character of the in-
habitants as well as the history of their cities. Therefore, the cities of
Roman Asia can only be understood in their natural contexts. The author
of the Apocalypse was intimately acquainted with these cities and their
local environments. In the seven letters John recorded "his view of the
history of each Church in harmony with the prominent features of nature
17Ibid., 36.
'8Ibid., 89.
19Ibid.,48-49.
 STEVEN FRIESEN 297

around the city."20 The modem interpreter must, therefore, acquire an in-
timate knowledge of the interplay between landscapes and cities in order to
understand John's nuances in his letters to those cities.
The dichotomy of nature and technology has been a favorite theme in
modern imperialism and it has had enormously destructive power when
wielded, for example, against women21 or against indigenous peoples.22 Its
appearance in an exegetical argument is frightening. With this critique of
Ramsay's orientalizing rhetoric in mind, however, the issue of nature and
urban settings can be rephrased in a more illuminating fashion. Nature does
play a different role in a late twentieth-century American or European city
than it did in the first-century cities of Roman Asia. The personifications
or deifications of rivers and cities are common among archaeological re-
mains. Literary texts expand the picture by providing stories of these dei-
ties. The sources suggest that the landscapes were a part of the religious
life of a polytheistic city. One must therefore explore the archaeological
materials as part of a strategy for understanding the religious significance
of nature in the Mediterranean world during the Roman period. Such an
exploration might, for example, impinge on readings of the natural disas-
ters enumerated in Revelation.
A second motive for Ramsay's use of archaeological materials was that
he wanted to find out about a larger segment of the "Graeco-Asiatic" popu-
lace. Both in his scholarly writing and in his travelogues, Ramsay demon-
strated an awareness of differences between the opinions of officials and
the views of peasants.23 He was not satisfied to draw conclusions about
Revelation based only on data gleaned from within the commonly accepted
boundaries for evidence about the Greco-Roman world. He sought instead
a broader understanding of how the inhabitants of Roman Asia would have
understood the imagery of the Apocalypse. His methods were hampered by
the amount of data available and by his own disregard for logical argumen-
tation, but he at least challenged the fragmentary and socially biased knowl-
edge about ancient societies.
Ramsay's use of archaeological materials was necessary for a third rea-
son: his dislike for apocalyptic literature and its symbolic systems.
The symbolismwas imposed on the writerof the Apocalypseby the
rathercrudeliterarymodel, which he imitatedin obedienceto a preva-

20Ibid., 49.
21CarolynMerchant, The Death of Nature: Women, Ecology and the Scientific Revolution
(San Francisco: Harper & Row, 1980); note the gender of terms in the preceding quote from
Ramsay.
22Catherine Keller, "The Breast, The Apocalypse, and the Colonial Journey," Journal of
Feminist Studies in Religion 10 (1994) 53-72.
23Ramsay, Impressions of Turkey, vii-ix.
298 HARVARD THEOLOGICAL REVIEW

lent Jewish fashion. . . . That element only fettered and impeded him
by its fanciful and unrealcharacter,makinghis work seem far more
Jewish than it really is. ... The apocalyptic form of literature was far
from being a high one; and the Apocalypseof John suffers from the
unfortunatechoice of this form:only occasionallyis the authorable to
free himself from the chilling influence of that fanciful and extrava-
gant mode of expression.24
Here, Ramsay's Orientalism shades into a triumphalist Christian rhetoric
against many aspects of Jewish religion and culture. Ramsay did not issue
a blanket condemnation of all things Jewish. Rather, he located Jews in an
ambiguous position on the Oriental side of the great human divide.25 There
was great variety among Jews, "from the destined prophet, Saul of Tarsus,
whose eyes were fixed on the spiritual future of his people, down to the
lowest Jew who traded on the superstitions and vices of those pagan dogs
whom he despised and abhorred, while he ministered to the excesses from
which in his own purpose he held aloof. But among them all there was, in
contrast to the pagan population around them, a certain unity of feeling and
aspiration bred in them by their religion, their holy books, the Sabbath
meetings and the weekly lessons and exhortations, the home training and
the annual family meal of the Passover."26The future, however, belonged
to those who followed the path blazed by Paul.
This "unity of feeling" based on common ideals and education is a
crucial facet of Ramsay's thinking; this one element can sustain an empire,
whether British27or Roman. It was also the one thing that Rome could not
provide. Rome could not bind its empire together through the worship of
the emperors because this was a sham that could not inspire true emotions
of patriotism and loyalty.28 Greeks could not generate this unity because
they had substituted polytheistic myths and fables for a true understanding
of nature and history.29 The Jews of Palestine offered no viable answer
because their extreme nationalism impeded the truth of their monotheistic
religion. The Jews of Asia Minor might succeed since they had both the
true religion and an openness to Gentiles. In the end, the apostle Paul
solved the crisis of authentic unity.
In him are broughtto a focus all the experiencesof the Jews of Asia
Minor. He saw clearly from childhoodthat the Maccabaeanreaction

24Ramsay, Letters to the Seven Churches, 71-72.

25Ibid., 32.
26Ibid., 143.
27WilliamM. Ramsay, TheImperial Peace: An Ideal in European History (Oxford: Clarendon,
1913) 28.
28Ramsay, Letters to the Seven Churches, 96-97.
29Ibid., 136-37.
 STEVEN FRIESEN 299

had not saved Palestine,that the Pharisaicpolicy of excludingGentile

civilisation and mannershad failed, and that the only possible salva-
tion for his nationwas to include the Gentiles by raising them to the
Jewish level in morality and religion. Judaism,he saw, must either
lose its vigour amid the sunshine of prosperityin Asia Minor, and
graduallydie, or it mustconquerthe Gentilesby assimilatingthem....
The new prophet[thatis, Paul] saw that the time of the Messiahand
His conquestof the Gentileshad come.30
According to Ramsay, John benefited from Paul's insights, although John
was still bound by the fetters of apocalyptic literary forms in his struggle
toward freedom.31
Turning from the conceptual framework underlying Ramsay's work, it is
important to note that !lis use of archaeological materials is seldom con-
vincing. In some cases this is due to the fact that there have been consid-
erable quantitative and methodological advances in the intervening century.
More often, though, problems arise because Ramsay's interpretation of
symbols is undisciplined. For example, in his description of the history of
Ephesos, Ramsay argued that there was an ongoing struggle in the city
between native Anatolian-that is, Oriental-conceptions of the divine and
Greek ideas over the span of hundreds of years. To prove his point, he
traced Ephesian coins minted with a bee and those with a Greek Artemis.32
While numismatic iconography certainly reflects an important public dis-
course, the simple appearance of a bee on a coin can hardly demonstrate
a resurgence of native Anatolian spirituality. A relief from the region of
Philadelphia provides another example of Ramsay's careless interpretation.
The relief was not found in its original setting; it has an upper register with
at least two deities and a male sacrificing, and a lower register with several
men sacrificing. Ramsay interpreted the lower level to represent the earthly
realm and the upper register the corresponding divine activity.33 He then
declared this to be a characteristic feature of Anatolian spirituality,34which
certainly places too much weight on one relief. Ramsay thus exegetes John's
notorious references to the angels of the churches in this way: the seven
stars and the seven lamps in Rev 1:20 are equivalent; one is earthly and
one heavenly.35 The relief with two registers therefore proves that the angel
of a church is an Anatolian way of personifying "the character, history and
life and unity of the Church."36
30Ibid.,156.
3lIbid., 157.
32Ibid.,221-23.
33Ibid.,62-63.
34Ibid.,64-67.
35Ibid.,62, 67-69.
36Ibid.,69.
300 HARVARD THEOLOGICAL REVIEW

A second problem in Ramsay's use of realia is that he tends to adduce

evidence of questionable value from other places and other times. Since he
had no evidence for the legal or social status of the Jewish community in
Laodicea, he surveyed materials from Hierapolis.37 While the cities are
only a few miles apart, it is still unwise to assume that both cities orga-
nized ethnic communities in the same way. A more flagrant violation of
reasoning occurs in Ramsay's discussion of the mark of the beast (Rev
13:16-18). He introduces as evidence papyrus certificates of loyalty found
in Egypt. These certificates were issued to those who took part in the
imperial cults during the great persecutions of the mid- and late third cen-
tury CE. He applied them, however, to late first-century Asia.
Ramsay must also be faulted for historical reconstructions founded upon
little or no evidence. An extraordinaryexample of his historical method is
found in his arguments that the seven churches of the Book of Revelation
were actually the nodes for an early Christian postal system that was run
by the bishops in those cities. Although Ramsay admitted that there is no
extant information about such a system,38 he spent two chapters developing
the hypothesis.39 It is an inescapable conclusion, he tells us, once one notes
that John assumes his readers know the churches as a group by referring to
the seven churches of Asia (Rev 1:4). Why is this so important to Ramsay?
The alleged postal system is an argument for the early emergence of an
ecclesial organization in Asia,40 and separates Revelation from other apoca-
lyptic literature by showing that the use of the number seven was not
borrowed from apocalyptic conventions.41 It also showed the church to be
a formidable alternative to the Roman Empire, which neglected to develop
such a system.42
If Ramsay's archaeological arguments are implausible, his historical re-
constructions unacceptable, and his thinking afflicted with imperialist val-
ues, why should he be discussed at all? An obvious reason is that a large
number of his conclusions still circulate in commentaries and in secondary
literature on Revelation. His conclusions are often accepted without cri-
tique and without an understanding of the assumptions that undergird his
work.
There is a more substantive reason, however, to consider Ramsay's work.
Ramsay had several admirable goals, even if his strategy for attaining them
was poorly conceived and executed. He deserves credit for seeking out

37Ibid., 420-22.
38Ibid., 31.
39Ibid., 171-96.
40See, for example, ibid., 178-80.
41Ibid., 178.
42Ibid., 34.
 STEVEN FRIESEN 301

some of the first-century voices that others ignored. While other scholars
were content to examine the accepted canon of extant writings, Ramsay
repeatedly put his own life in danger as he sought data about people of all
social classes in the Roman Empire. Ramsay also tried to relate literary
texts to social setting in an innovative manner. I do not think he was
successful in this, but he was, after all, working in a very different histori-
cal setting. Both his mistakes and his intentions are instructive.
Finally, Ramsay demonstrated an awareness of the imperial politics of
his day and sought to connect the message of the Apocalypse to the con-
temporary practices of international domination. His evaluation of British
imperial interests in Turkey was complex, combining elements of critique
about the motives and ethics of imperial power43 with elements of praise
for the British mission of civilizing the human and natural worlds.44 He
was engaged in an effort to integrate his intellectual and political activities
in a critical, reflexive manner. The fact that his reading was inextricably
entwined in the British imperial narratives of Orientalism, of Christian tri-
umph over Jews and pagans, of nature and technology, and of educating
and civilizing the native is not sufficient reason to dismiss all aspects of his
work. After all, no reading exists that is not produced from the reader's
complex context. It is unfortunate, however, that Ramsay's undesignated
heir, Colin Hemer, showed no awareness of this.

* SubstantialProblemsin Colin Hemer'swork

In 1986, Colin Hemer's 1969 dissertation was published in revised form.45
In the preface he noted that his study of Revelation 1-3 began as a reas-
sessment of Ramsay.46 As the study progressed he became convinced that
Ramsay's work deserved more praise, not only because of its widespread
use, but also because of Ramsay's "carefully qualified statements."47Hemer's
work exhibits many of Ramsay's flaws and none of his redeeming charac-
teristics.
Hemer's study grows out of an unsubstantiated premise that he shared
with his predecessor. Both assumed that the messages to the seven churches
"represent a popular literature: doubtless their general sense and many of
their allusions were readily understood by all Asian readers, but each is
directed with peculiar force to strictly local circumstances."48The two men

43Ramsay, Impressions of Turkey, 158-62; idem, Revolution in Constantinople, 14.

44Ramsay, Impressions of Turkey, 122, 270; idem, The Imperial Peace, 28.
45ColinJ. Hemer, The Letters to the Seven Churches ofAsia in their Local Setting (JSNTSup
11, Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1986).
46Ibid., x.
47Ibid., 25-26.
48Ibid., 14.
302 HARVARD THEOLOGICAL REVIEW

differ in their understanding of the reasons for the importance of local

influence. While Ramsay concluded that the interaction with the natural
world was primary, Hemer based his discussions more on local histories
and particular circumstances.
Hemer revealed this method of reading in his comments about Ephesos.49
Hemer imagined that when John prepared to write, he considered the local
circumstances and history of each city and that these influenced his choice
of imagery.50 John's allusions would have been clear even to those with
distant knowledge of the city in question.51
Hemer was sensitive to criticism of his point of departure, for he at-
tempted a defense of his assumption that the letters are permeated by al-
lusions to local conditions.
It [thatis, this method]mightbe regardedas an attemptto find the Sitz
im Lebenof the letters in the church,but to do it througha painstak-
ing, if tentative, search throughthe available positive and external
evidence.The validityof the attemptdoes not hinge on the acceptance
of the whole. If some partsstand,the principlemeritsconsideration.A
cumulativecase is validatedby a sufficiencyof evidence;if an excess
is offered, and some of it is rejected,the basic case is not thereby
overthrown.52
The main problem with this plea for a cumulative case is that very few
parts of Hemer's case are convincing. Briefly put, his arguments lack sub-
stance. The following four examples indicate the kinds of problems that
one encounters in Hemer's method of argumentation.
First, Hemer's appeals to local civic histories are mostly obscure and
irrelevant. For example, the statement in the Letter to the Laodiceans (Rev
3:20) that Christ was at the door knocking provided Hemer with the oppor-
tunity to beat Ramsay at his own game. In this one instance, Ramsay had
conceded that the saying should not be understood through local allusions;
instead, Ramsay adopted a position even more difficult to sustain-that the
invitation provided a general conclusion to all seven messages.53 Hemer, in
contrast, recognized that the saying in Rev 3:20 was a standardformula for
an oracle, so he set out to demonstrate its local setting. He concluded that
there was a long history of Roman generals and governors abusing Laodicean
hospitality, attacking the city or expropriating property and goods. Hemer
cited examples from the republican period-more than a century earlier-

49Hemerdoes not seem to be aware of the importance that Ramsay placed upon nature as
a distinction between Orientals and Europeans.
50See ibid., 51.
51Ibid., 54.
52Ibid., 22.
53Ramsay, Letters to the Seven Churches, 431-32.
 STEVEN FRIESEN 303

but had to resort to evidence from Smyrna and Hierapolis for the imperial
period. The contrast between Christ at the door, refusing to force his way
into the house and Laodicea's history seemed obvious to Hemer.
Second, Hemer provided many possible parallels but few proven conclu-
sions. The following passage, in which he discussed the reasons why the
Ephesian church was able to withstand false apostles (Rev 2:2), is an ex-
ample of Hemer's tendency to suggest possibilities when he should have
demonstrated probabilities. Note the proliferation of "may have" and "may
not have."
Perhapsthe cosmopolitancharacterof the city and its existing racial
and religioustensionspermitteda greatermeasureof fragmentationof
its society thanwas normalin the closely-knitpolis. The very size and
influenceof the apostolicchurchin Ephesosmay have renderedit less
vulnerableto the pressureswhich afflicted the otherchurches,and its
comparativesecurity may have been a factor in its strategicimpor-
tance. Severancefrom the synagoguemay not have been so recent or
so criticalan experienceas at Smyrnaor Philadelphia:the pressuresof
imperialcult or pagansociety, while certainlypowerful,may not have
been so insistentas uponthe weakeranddividedchurchesof Pergamum
or Thyatira.54
No substantive conclusions can result from this tentative style of argumen-
tation.
Third, Hemer engages in special pleading. In another example, Hemer
accepted Ramsay's characterization of Ephesos as a city of change55 while
redefining the change threatened in Rev 2:5b ("I will come to you and
remove your lampstand from its place, unless you repent"). In order to
redefine the veiled threat, Hemer needed to argue that signs of decline
could already be seen in Ephesos in the late first century. Hemer therefore
posited that the first century was the height of Ephesian greatness even
though specialists agree that the mid- to late second century was the golden
age of Ephesos.56 Hemer opined, "Extensive building schemes continued in
the Antonine period, when we must suppose that the problem of the city's
future had become obvious and acute."57 Since Ignatius's early second-
century Epistle to the Ephesians shows no awareness of the alleged decline,

54Hemer, Letters to the Seven Churches, 40-41.

55This is itself a problematic argument; see Ramsay, Letters to the Seven Churches, 210-
36.
56Wilhelm Alzinger, "Ephesos vom Beginn der romischen Herrschaft in Kleinasien bis
zum Ende der Principatszeit (Archaologischer Teil)"; Dieter Knibbe, "Ephesos vom Beginn
der romischen Herrschaft in Kleinasien bis zum Ende der Principatszeit (Historischer Teil)";
ANRW 2.7.2 (1980) 811-30, 748-810, respectively.
57Hemer, Letters to the Seven Churches, 53; my emphasis.
304 HARVARD THEOLOGICAL REVIEW

Hemer explained that Ignatius "sees the energy and devotion of this church,
but not the seeds of decline which a closer knowledge might have re-
vealed."58 Hemer apparently had a deeper understanding of the congrega-
tion in Ephesos than Ignatius had.
Fourth, Hemer's method leads to the construction of unbelievable hypo-
thetical scenarios. Hemer dealt with the enigmatic nature of Nicolaitanism
in his chapter on Pergamon. He concluded that the Nicolaitans, who are
denounced in Rev 2:6 and 15, were antinomians who misrepresented Paul's
teaching regarding the consumption of meat sacrificed to any god other
than the God of Israel. To bolster his argument, Hemer suggested that Paul
imposed the apostolic decree of Acts 15 on Gentile congregations only as
far west as Galatia. When pressures to take part in imperial cults allegedly
increased in Pergamon, where Paul had not imposed the decree,
a liberalpartymightclaim Paulineprecedentfor upholdingfreedomto
participate.Johnrepliesthattheirteachingviolatesthe Decree,to which
Paul himself, accordingto Acts, had assented.He furtherstigmatizes
their teachingas of Balaam,whose name we supposeto have been a
currentslogan, perhapsagainstChristianitygenerally,but rightly ap-
plied only to an antinomianperversionof it.59
Is it really necessary to suppose that John invoked the apostolic decree of
Acts against post-Pauline antinomians in Pergamon in order to explain the
Nicolaitan problem?
Along with questionable argumentation, Hemer misrepresented the na-
ture of Greco-Roman polytheism. "Paganism" in the ancient world consti-
tuted normal religion in the areas under discussion. It was the foundation
and presupposition of urban life. Hemer, however, depicted paganism as a
feature of life that was more prominent in some places than others. Regard-
ing Ephesos, he maintained that "the power of paganism in this city was
certainly great, and it is not at all unlikely that scriptural language should
be applied to encourage those under attack from that quarter."60He did not
explain what made paganism stronger in Ephesos than in other cities. Pa-
ganism was also strong in Pergamon, according to Hemer, because the
Attalids had used religion as a major instrument of policy centuries ear-
lier.61Because of this and because of an early provincial temple for Augustus
and Rome, "[Pergamon] evidently continued to be the religious capital of
the province of Asia."62 What exactly is a "religious capital" in a Roman
imperial province? Hemer did not explain.
58Ibid., 54.
59Ibid., 92.
60Ibid., 41.
61Ibid., 81.
62Ibid., 82.
 STEVEN FRIESEN 305

Hemer also misrepresented the power of the early churches. An inscrip-

tion from Ephesos63details an extremely large benefaction given by Salutaris
in 104 CE for religious processions and festivals of the city.64 Hemer re-
peated Edward Hicks's suggestion that this benefaction was a reaction against
the growth of the churches in Ephesos.65 Hemer then extrapolated further,
suggesting that the church's growth might have been due to the repentance
and renewed vigor of its members after they received and read John's
Revelation.66
One last problem is particularly disturbing. Hemer's hypothetical recon-
structions sometimes use anti-Semitic stereotypes.67 For example, Hemer
observed that outside of John's oracle and perhaps the letter of Ignatius,
there is no evidence for a Jewish community in Philadelphia. He then
questioned why Jewish influence would have been so strong in a weak city
with no attested Jewish community: "Possibly Philadelphia offered oppor-
tunities for exploitation by the less scrupulous by the sale of necessities at
extortionate prices. The strong language of Rev 3:9 would be the more
intelligible if some such opportunism of the writer's opponents had given
them an unpopular hold on the city. And neighbouring Sardis was a great
centre of the Diaspora."68Hemer thus suggested that John's reference to the
"synagogue of Satan" (Rev 3:9) was explained by his theory that Sardian
Jews were preying on impoverished Philadelphia by selling staple goods at
unreasonably high prices.
In his use of archaeological materials, Hemer has atomized the evidence.
No attempt is made to build a coherent reconstruction of late first century
social settings from the realia. Instead, Hemer preferred to think of a piece
of evidence as an isolated key that might unlock a difficult textual prob-
lem.69 Rather than providing new insights into the material conditions of
life in the Greco-Roman world, the realia remain isolated from each other,
awaiting some connection with a biblical text. This methodology of atomi-
zation left the book without a conclusion. The last chapter is rather an
epilogue in which Hemer claimed to have documented the local setting of
the messages, which in fact he had assumed from the beginning. The epi-

63IvE I 27.
64Guy Rogers, The Sacred Identity of Ephesos: Foundation Myths of a Roman City (New
York: Routledge, 1991).
65EdwardL. Hicks, The Collection of Ancient Greek Inscriptions in the British Museum 3.2
(Oxford: Clarendon, 1890) 83.
66Hemer, Letters to the Seven Churches, 53.
67This is also noted in Jack T. Sanders, Schismatics, Sectarians, Dissidents, Deviants: The
First One Hundred Years of Jewish-Christian Relations (Valley Forge, PA: Trinity, 1993)
178.
68Hemer, Letters to the Seven Churches, 160.
69For the metaphor of the key, see ibid., 1, 20.
306 HARVARD THEOLOGICAL REVIEW

logue includes a plea to ignore those who employ sociological theories to

form a historical reconstruction. According to Hemer, there is no need to
develop a pattern from the realia that would inform New Testament studies.
The rigorous examination merely of the specifics of time and place is the
proper work of the biblical scholar.70
Both Ramsay and Hemer attempted to interpret Revelation through the
use of archaeological materials, but neither study is useful at the level of
historical investigation. They are not systematic in their handling of mate-
rial remains, and they have not articulated a convincing relationship be-
tween literary texts and realia. Both were afflicted with a distaste for
apocalyptic literature and attempted to erect a barrier between Revelation
and extracanonical texts. Hemer's approach was chronically positivistic and
blind to the political implications of scholarly practice. Hemer serves as an
extreme example of someone who has mistaken realia for reality. He is
guilty of the misuse of the tangible quality of stones and metal in an
exegetical endeavor. Ramsay, in contrast, exhibited a little more awareness
of the limits of archaeological interpretation and a good deal more interest
in the politics of scholarship.

* Archaeologicaland LiteraryTexts
The interpretationof archaeological materials has long been a part of the
interpretation of the Apocalypse, although most interpreters of Revelation
are more modest than Ramsay or Hemer in their use of coins, inscriptions,
sculpture, and architecture. They tend to rely on these two men and to use
such materials occasionally, when it suits a specific argument. This sug-
gests that there is a need within biblical studies for more general training
in archaeological materials and for more scholars who specialize in these
topics. Biblical scholars do not need to become archaeologists, but rather
need a greater level of familiarity with the data and methods. Without
greater knowledge and a sufficient number of specialists who can disagree
with each other, the discipline of biblical studies is vulnerable to the he-
gemony of inaccessible, unchallenged knowledge allegedly gained from other
disciplines.
The effort to become more familiar with archaeological materials, how-
ever, is only part of the task. In this last section I want to raise theoretical
issues implicit in the use of realia by placing the problem within the larger
contexts of biblical archaeology and of religious studies. I argue that ar-
chaeology is not simply a source of more data; these materials can change
one's understanding of biblical studies.

70Ibid., 210-12.
 STEVEN FRIESEN 307

In order to address the issue of Revelation and realia, one must move
beyond the impasse between literary method and social method which has
afflicted biblical studies in recent decades. Our goal should be to be more
systematic in treating literary texts like Revelation as social productions
related to their historical, political, and religious contexts-without settling
for Ramsay's good intentions or Hemers substantial problems. The insights
of both social and literary methods are vital to this task. In the case of
Revelation, sufficient archaeological and literary evidence exists to develop
convincing reconstructions of urban life in Roman Asia. The problem lies
in connecting the text of Revelation to those reconstructions of society. For
this task, literary theorists such as Edward Said are helpful:
Textsdon'tallow us to apprehend"real"historydirectly,but thatneedn't
disallow interestin events surroundingtexts and their production....
The realitiesof powerand authority-as well as the resistancesoffered
by men, women,and social movementsto institutions,authorities,and
orthodoxies-are the realities that make texts possible, that deliver
themto theirreaders,thatsolicit the attentionof critics.71
Wimal Dissanayake has argued that a position like Said's is not idiosyn-
cratic; rather, it is part of a new period in literary criticism.
Broadlyspeaking,we can identifythreeimportantphasesrelatedto the
evolutionof modernliterarytheory.In the first phase. .. the focus was
clearly on the work of literatureand its significanceas a humanand
artisticdocument.In the second phase, literarytheoristsbegan to ex-
amineworksof literaturein termsof the structure,the literariness,and
their status as a verbal icon. The emphasiswas decidely on the self-
containednessof the literarywork in question.In the thirdphase-or
the contemporaryphase-literary theorists have begun to widen the
field of inquiry,makinguse of literaryworks as ways of readingthe
widerculturaldiscourseof whichthey are an integralpart.72
Renewed dialogue between literary and social methods is required for schol-
ars to elucidate the oppositions and agreements that contributed to the
production of a text like Revelation.
In following this path, one can begin to recognize the similarity between
literary texts and archaeological materials. Realia and literature are both
products of their social contexts. This does not mean that there will nec-
essarily be any connection between an artifact and the literature of a given
71EdwardW. Said, The World, the Text, and the Critic (Cambridge, MA: Harvard Univer-
sity Press, 1983) 4-5.
72Wimal Dissanayake, "Introduction: The Literary Turn in the Human Sciences," in idem
and Steven Bradbury, eds., Literary History, Narrative and Culture (Honolulu: University of
Hawaii Press, 1989) 1.
308 HARVARD THEOLOGICAL REVIEW

place and time. Rather, this simply draws the manuscript and the inscrip-
tion-or statue, coin, painting, or building-into one arena where they can
be profitably compared. If it is possible to understand the relationship
between them, one can see where they might address similar issues.
The dichotomy between texts and realia is therefore unnecessary and
false. It is more accurate to speak of archaeological and literary texts or,
even better, of numismatic, sculptural, architectural, epigraphic, pictorial,
and literary texts. These objects have all been crafted by humans in particu-
lar historical and cultural settings. There are important distinctions in the
ways they have been crafted and the people who executed them, but they
are all a part of the production of meaning. As such, they present analo-
gous problems for the late twentieth-century hermeneut. For this reason,
archaeologists are engaged in discussing some of the same theoretical prob-
lems that perplex biblical scholars.73 Archaeology is an interpretive disci-
pline. Its materials and some of its methods differ from those of biblical
studies, but similar hermeneutic challenges are encountered in both disci-
plines, since both deal with crafted objects from the past.
My argument has been that interpretationmust attempt to locate Revela-
tion in its first-century social setting, and that this requires consideration of
the full range of known productions from that same setting. This compli-
cated endeavor to reconstruct a distant past also requires that scholars be
responsible for examining their roles in the process. Lawrence Sullivan
explains:
The interpreteris the guiding mind, the person whose perceptions,
experiences,and cognitive frames assign. . . data to specific catego-
ries. Categoriesare evaluativeand are deeply implicatedin the facts
they cultivate.The line used to circumscribethe historicaldata ought
to be tracedaroundbehindus and not just looped aroundthe datathat
sit in frontof our eyes. Thereis no view from nowhere.The historical
circumstancesof the viewer are germaneto the processof understand-
ing, andhermeneuticsthusrequiresus to examinethe groundon which
we standas interpreters.74

73See, for example, Ian Bapty and Tim Yates, eds., Archaeology after Structuralism: Post-
Structuralism and the Practice of Archaeology (London: Routledge, 1990); Norman Yoffee
and Andrew Sherratt, Archaeological Theory: Who Sets the Agenda? (New York: Cambridge
University Press, 1993); Michael Shanks and Christopher Tilley, eds., Re-Constructing Ar-
chaeology: Theoryand Practice (New York: CambridgeUniversity Press, 1987); Peter Gathercole
and David Lowenthal, eds., The Politics of the Past (Boston: Unwin Hyman, 1990). For a
helpful overview of the problems and positions, see Ian Hodder, Reading the Past: Current
Approaches to Interpretation in Archaeology (2d ed.; New York: Cambridge University Press,
1991).
74LawrenceE. Sullivan, "Dissonant Human Histories and the Vulnerability of Understand-
ing," in Steven Friesen, ed., Local Knowledge, Ancient Wisdom: Challenges in Contemporary
Spirituality (Honolulu: East-West Center, 1991) 27-28.
 STEVEN FRIESEN 309

Analysis of archaeological and literary texts must involve a second level of

interpretation that turns its attention to moder social practices such as
archaeology and biblical studies.
One step toward accomplishing that goal is understanding the intimate
relationship of Mediterranean archaeology and modem imperialism. The
acquisition of knowledge about new lands has long been a subsidiary part
of military campaigns. A significant turn in policy occurred, however, with
Napoleon's invasion of Egypt in 1798. Along with the thirty-six thousand
troops, Napoleon's force included one hundred and fifty-one scientists,
doctors, engineers, and scholars. Although the ground war was won quickly,
the British navy destroyed the French ships ten days after the invasion
began. With little serious resistance on land and no ships to return home,
this band of learned Frenchmen decided to expand their original mandate
to include a detailed examination of the conquered realm. They spent the
next three years subjecting the ancient ruins and contemporary peoples of
Egypt to a scientific invasion. Massive amounts of information were gath-
ered about Egyptian archaeology and culture; as a result, tremendous gains
were made in various fields of European sciences and humanities and the
modern field of Egyptology was created. The campaign also signaled a
shift from earlier mercantile colonialism to the modern practice of cultural
occupation.75 Trade with colonies was no longer sufficient; the colonies
needed to be explored, measured, and civilized.76 The realia of their pasts
needed to be documented and, when possible, brought "home" for further
study and display.
The realia of the Greek Aegean came to have particular importance for
nineteenth-century Europeans and there was more than intellectual curiosity
at stake in the growth of interest in classical archaeology during this pe-
riod. Martin Bernal's dissection of the history of classical studies has dem-
onstrated the way European powers came to see themselves as heirs of
Greece, with little or no cultural influence from the "Orient."77Bernal's
constructive argument that Greek culture actually came from Egypt has not
convinced many,78 but his elucidation of the way in which politics and
75Charles C. Gillispie, "The Scientific Importance of Napoleon's Egyptian Campaign,"
Scientific American 271 (1994) 78-84; regarding the racial, religious, and philosophical ideas
underpinning such an invasion, see Martin Bernal, Black Athena: The Afroasiatic Roots of
Classical Civiliation, vol. 1: The Fabrication of Ancient Greece 1785-1985 (New Brunswick,
NJ: Rutgers University Press, 1987) 183-88.
76The term "civilization" was either coined in English around this time or experienced a
dramatic new level of usefulness (Charles H. Long, Significations: Signs, Symbols, and Im-
ages in the Interpretation of Religion [Philadelphia: Fortress, 1986] 83-84).
77Bernal, Black Athena, 224-399.
78Bruce G. Trigger, "Review of Martin Bernal, Black Athena: The Afroasiatic Roots of
Classical Civilization vol. 2," Current Anthropology 33 (1992) 121-23; Stanley M. Burstein,
"Review of Martin Bernal, Black Athena: The Afroasiatic Roots of Classical Civilization vol.
2," Classical Philology 88 (1993) 157-62.
310 HARVARD THEOLOGICAL REVIEW

anti-Semitism affected scholarly interpretation of ancient Greek culture is

sobering. Bernal argued that racism and anti-Semitism were so strong in
European politics and society between 1880 and 1939 that no amount of
historical or archaeological evidence could have changed the accepted con-
clusions in classical studies-the central discipline of European education
of the time-about the distinction between Greek and eastern Mediterra-
nean cultures. "It was not until after the decline of colonialism and the
official delegitimization of racism and anti-Semitism between 1945 and
1960 that any dent could be made in the models of ancient history based
upon them."79 The excavation and glorification of Greek realia became,
among other things, a way of asserting Europe's democratic heritage, inher-
ent superiority, and right to rule distant lands.
The realia of Palestine were at least as important to European imperial-
ism. After decimating Napoleon's fleet off the coast of Egypt, the British
navy prevented Napoleon from occupying the Holy Land in 1799. In the
process, the British became the protectors of the Christian communities
under Ottoman rule in Palestine.80 The British presence made the Holy
Land accessible to European Christians to an unprecedented degree and the
early years of biblical archaeology began to unfold. One main concern of
the new discipline was to see whether the physical remains proved the
Bible to be historically reliable. In 1917, when Ottoman authority in Pal-
estine finally gave way to British authority, it seemed that the Crusades had
finally come to an end. Silberman ends his history of biblical archaeology
in this period with a succinct statement of the issue: "The political struggles
of the nineteenth century have given way to new conflicts, but the fasci-
nation of Biblical archeology endures. To possess the Land of the Bible is
to interpret its history. This fact has remained constant. Only the interpret-
ers have changed."81Biblical archaeology in Palestine and European impe-
rial politics are not unrelated, and this has had consequences for the "proper"
interpretation of the Bible.
Archaeology as a modern social practice thus has a history entwined in
the political and religious designs of several empires. I do not mean to say
that the discipline is completely subservient to external influences; rather,
I only wish to point out that archaeological knowledge is conditioned knowl-
edge. It is important to be aware of the sociopolitical location of the aca-
demic discipline if we are to avail ourselves of its knowledge.
Monographs and articles on the role of the discipline of biblical studies
in the machinations of empires over the last two centuries are more diffi-

79Bernal, Black Athena, 382-83.

80Neil Asher Silberman, Digging for God and Country: Exploration, Archeology, and the
Secret Struggle for the Holy Land 1799-1917 (New York: Knopf, 1982) 10-17.
81Ibid., 202.
 STEVEN FRIESEN 311

cult to find. It is now clear that a particular understanding of the Apoca-

lypse and Christian mission was a significant influence in Columbus's
voyages, which inadvertently brought Europe and the Americas into contact
and irrevocably changed both areas.82 It is also clear that Christian mis-
sions played significant roles in the conquest and subjugation of the so-
called new world. A glance at standard treatments of the history of the
interpretation of the New Testament, however, shows them to be strangely
silent on such matters. Stephen Neill's study, entitled The Interpretation of
the New Testament 1861-1961,83 is concerned solely with the subject matter
of New Testament studies-what Sullivan called the data in front of us-
examining topics where there has been scholarly progress and suggesting
issues that need further study.84
William Baird's recent volume is a welcome addition to the field of the
history of New Testament interpretation.85The first volume covers approxi-
mately 1700 to 1870. The personal biographies and politics that are in-
cluded in the text are treated as background. No clear connection is made
between the lives of scholars, their institutional commitments, and their
thinking. Thus, a savant like Ernest Renan is recognized as a controversial
historian who undertook archaeological research in Syria and Palestine,
who broke with the church and lost his professorship for a time due to his
religious liberalism, and whose friendship with David F. Strauss disinte-
grated during the Franco-Prussian War,86but these tantalizing snippets are
not integrated into an understanding of Renan's rendering of the life of
Jesus. We have to consult a literary critic87 and an interloper in classical
studies88to learn that Renan's work was also a landmark in the philological
legitimation of racism and anti-Semitism in the Western academy. Is this
not significant in the history of the interpretation of the New Testament?
It is not my intention to demean the standardhistories; they are valuable
resources. Nor do I wish to imply that the discipline of New Testament
studies is epiphenomenal to political or economic developments. My point
82CatherineKeller, "The Breast, The Apocalypse, and the Colonial Journey," 62-71; Oliver
Dunn and James E. Kelly, The "Diario" of Christopher Columbus's First Voyage to America
1492-1493 (Norman: University of Oklahoma Press, 1989) 17-19, 183-85.
83Stephen Neill, The Interpretation of the New Testament 1861-1961: The Firth Lectures,
1962 (New York: Oxford University Press, 1964).
84See esp. ibid. 336-48. The revised edition (Stephen Neill and Tom Wright, The Interpre-
tation of the New Testament 1861-1986 [2d ed.; New York: Oxford University Press, 1988])
was undertaken by Tom Wright to update the classic work. No attempt was made to restructure
the basic study or expand the kinds of questions asked about the earlier periods.
85William Baird, History of New Testament Research, vol. 1: From Deism to Tubingen
(Minneapolis: Augsburg Fortress, 1992).
86Ibid., 375-76.
87EdwardW. Said, Orientalism (New York: Pantheon, 1978) 136-66.
88Bernal, Black Athena, 344-46.
312 HARVARD THEOLOGICAL REVIEW

here is that biblical scholars have not yet attempted a systematic under-
standing of New Testament interpretationwithin its Euroamericancontexts.
Theological and intellectual histories of New Testament scholarship abound,
but where are the political, economic, or ideological histories that would
fill out the picture? Jonathan Z. Smith has helped with regard to the study
of mystery religions,89 and Dieter Georgi with studies of the life of Jesus,90
but there are other topics to be considered. An enlarged understanding of
the role that biblical studies has played in society and the world is neces-
sary. Without an acknowledgment of those connections, scholars' self-un-
derstanding remains abstract and rationalistic, and academic definitions of
religion remain ethereal.91
This lack of interest in contemporary concerns is particularly conspicu-
ous in the study of Revelation. It is almost universally acknowledged that
the author vilified Rome for its exploitation of the Mediterranean world.
Commentators often note that they hope their work will lead to a respon-
sible understanding of this politically volatile text92;they seldom exhibit a
sensitivity to contemporary imperialism. If one fundamental theme in Rev-
elation is the abuse of international power, should not modern interpreta-
tions reflect on the history and abiding presence of such abuse?93
This discussion of interpretationand social location leads to two conclu-
sions. New Testament scholars need to reflect on our discipline as one part
of the educational systems of our respective countries. In what ways is our
vocational practice related to national and international policies? Revela-
tion demands that we answer such questions. Issues such as this will also
bring us into conversations with other disciplines such as critical theory
and postcolonial studies. Authors in these fields are concerned with the
consequences of domination over peoples through time. Many deal with
questions of cultural imperialism and strategies of resistance, and their
attention to literary artifacts may also help biblical scholars to move be-
yond the impasse between literary and social methods. Such contemporary
89JonathanZ. Smith, Drudgery Divine: On the Comparison of Early Christianities and the
Religions of Late Antiquity (Chicago: Chicago University Press, 1990).
9?Dieter Georgi, "The Interest in Life of Jesus Theology as a Paradigm for the Social
History of Biblical Criticism," HTR 85 (1992) 51-83.
91For a similar critique based on a different line of argument, see Richard A. Horsley,
"Innovation in Search of Reorientation: New Testament Studies Rediscovering Its Subject
Matter," JAAR 62 (1994) 1127-66.
92R. H. Charles, A Critical and Exegetical Commentary on the Revelation of St. John (2
vols.; Edinburgh: T. & T. Clark, 1920) xv; Jurgen Roloff, The Revelation of John: A Conti-
nental Commentary (Minneapolis: Fortress, 1993) vii.
93An important exception to prevailing tendencies in Revelation studies is the work of
Elisabeth Schussler-Fiorenza. For example, her The Book of Revelation: Justice and Judge-
ment (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1985) and Revelation: Visions of a Just World (Minneapolis:
Fortress, 1991).
 STEVEN FRIESEN 313

theoretical literature cannot simply be imposed onto our understanding of

the Roman Empire; it can, however, provide new approaches and insights
both for our reconstructions and the situations in which we work. Edward
Said's comment about novels applies to the study of scripture as well:
To lose sight of or ignore the nationaland internationalcontext of,
say, Dickens'srepresentationsof Victorianbusinessmen,andfocus only
on the internalcoherenceof their roles in his novels is to miss an
essential connectionbetween his fiction and its historicalworld. And
understandingthat connectiondoes not reduceor diminishthe novels'
value as works of art: on the contrary,because of their worldliness,
because of their complex affiliationswith their real setting, they are
moreinterestingandmorevaluableas worksof art.94
The second conclusion-and the point of this essay-is that the realia
from the Roman world are not simply fodder for another subdiscipline. If
New Testament scholars think of them as merely another set of materials
to master, we will miss an opportunity. The coins, inscriptions, buildings,
and statues provide biblical scholars with the chance to change the way we
think about religion in the Greco-Roman world and about religion in gen-
eral. Through them, literary remains can be put into a more balanced per-
spective. Through them, scholars can be freed from exclusive allegiance to
the printed page. Thousands of pieces of archaeological evidence, in sev-
eral media, relate to the issues addressed in Revelation. Some are more
relevant than others, and creative synthesis will be needed, but study of the
realia should not be considered merely an option for the interpreter of
Revelation. They offer an opportunity to change our understanding of our-
selves and our work.
I conclude with four possible benefits that a serious engagement with
realia could have for biblical studies. First, such an engagement will reveal
the difficulty of making responsible statements about the social context of
Revelation. I am not referring to the argument that so little evidence from
antiquity is left that scholars can say little further about social context.
New Testament scholars are not even making use of the available materi-
als. Engagement with archaeological materials suggests that the gaps in our
knowledge are numerous but also that various materials could impinge on
our studies. For example, a colleague recently explained to me her conclu-
sions regarding whether Greek or Latin was commonly spoken in first-
century Corinth; a crucial factor in her research was the language used in
potters' stamps from workshops in that city. To provide another example,
at a recent conference, an archaeologist was drawing inferences about the
socioeconomic status of Ephesians based on both the kinds of household

94EdwardW. Said, Culture and Imperialism (New York: Knopf, 1993) 13.
314 HARVARD THEOLOGICAL REVIEW

wares that were made locally and the percentage of wares that were im-
ported. Such diverse knowledge will multiply the kinds of studies that New
Testament scholars can undertake and increase the kinds of questions that
we can attempt to answer.
Second, by engaging ourselves with media other than literature, we may
expand our notions of the religious life. The scholarly practice of writing
papers based on literary texts fosters a disembodied notion of religion;
ideas and abstractions become the currency of our realm. Once one begins
to deal with religious realia, however, writing a paper becomes much more
difficult, because the subject is no longer expressed only in language but
also in visual images. The semiotics and aesthetics of religion in the Greco-
Roman world are less accessible without the realia. As long as we ignore
the archaeological evidence, our understandingis correspondingly impover-
ished.
My third point, growing out of the second, is that one important benefit
to be gained from an engagement with archaeological materials is an en-
hanced appreciation of the role of religion in Greco-Roman Mediterranean
societies. Excavated sites and the materials from them reveal gods and
goddesses everywhere. They are painted on walls and carved into furniture;
they adorn private homes and public buildings; they are praised by slaves,
freedpersons, and citizens. They organize the calendars by which people
live, and they assist merchants, city officials, rulers, children, young people
coming of age, the sick, and the departed. They oversee governance, edu-
cation, family life, commerce, and worship. When I turn from the realia to
biblical studies, however, I see very little awareness of the fabric of life in
a polytheistic setting. Perhaps this is because most New Testament scholars
are monotheists, either by conviction or by training. The archaeological
texts remind us of the difficulty of understanding the polytheistic socio-
religious contexts within which literary texts were produced.
Finally, a concerted effort to engage the archaeological materials may
help us focus more attention on the political, economic, and ideological
import of religious activity in the ancient world and in our own. Repeated
encounters with large stone buildings, public decrees, bronze statues, and
silver coins encourage scholars to ask about finances, politics, and religious
values in a way that the study of literary texts does not. Such questions do
not exhaust the interests of biblical studies. They simply remind us that
religion is concerned with all aspects of life, and that biblical studies should
be as encompassing in its inquiry.
An earlier draft of this article was presented at the SBL Seminar "Read-
ing the Apocalypse: The Intersection of Literary and Social Methods." I
wish to thank the seminar members for their comments on the paper, and
for the annual discussions of these issues.