Power and Place: Temple and Identity in the Book of Revelation [Reprint 2012 ed.] 3110170086, 9783110170085

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Power and Place: Temple and Identity in the Book of Revelation [Reprint 2012 ed.]
 3110170086, 9783110170085

Table of contents :
Abbreviations
1. Revelation and the Temple: Introduction
1.1 The Problem of the Temple in Revelation
1.2 The Language of Apocalyptic
1.3 The Temple and the Interpretation of Revelation
1.4 Method and Plan
2. Significance of Temples in Greek and Roman Culture
2.1 Introduction
2.2 Temple as Embodiment of Divine Presence
2.3 Temple as Unifying Force
2.4 Temples, Civic Pride and Identity
2.5 Temple as Place of Protection and Justice
2.6 Summary and Conclusion
3. Significance of the Temple in Jewish Life and Thought
3.1 Introduction
3.2 The Temple in Jewish Tradition and History: An Overview
3.3 Temple and the Divine Presence
3.4 Temple as Unifying Force
3.5 Temple as Place of Power
3.6 Temple and Jewish Identity
3.7 Summary and Conclusion
4. Temple, Power and Identity in Jewish Apocalyptic Literature
4.1 Introduction
4.2 Ezekiel
4.3 1 Enoch 85–90
4.4 Testament of Levi
4.5 4 Ezra
4.6 2 Baruch
4.7 Apocalypse of Abraham
4.8 Summary and Conclusion
5. The Temple and the Book of Revelation
5.1 Revelation and Cultural Pluralism
5.2 Displacement and Dating
5.3 Temple as Apocalyptic Symbol
6. Temple and Identity in Revelation
6.1 Rhetorical Situation: People of God or People of the World?
6.2 Mediation of Revelation
6.3 Temple and the People of God
6.4 Temple and the People of the World
6.5 Summary and Conclusion
7. Power and Place
7.1 Rhetorical Situation: Kingdom of God or Kingdom of the World?
7.2 Temple and the Power of God
7.3 Summary and Conclusion
8. Conclusion
Bibliography
Index of Modern Authors
Index of Ancient Sources
Index of Scripture Citations

Citation preview

Gregory Stevenson Power and Place

Beihefte zur Zeitschrift für die neutestamentliche Wissenschaft und die Kunde der älteren Kirche

In Verbindung mit James D. G. Dunn · Richard B. Hays Hermann Lichtenberger herausgegeben von Michael Wolter

Band 107

W DE

G_ Walter de Gruyter · Berlin · New York

2001

Gregory Stevenson

Power and Place Temple and Identity in the Book of Revelation

w DE

Walter de Gruyter · Berlin · New York 2001

© Printed on acid-free paper which falls within the guidelines of the ANSI to ensure permanence and durability.

Die Deutsche Bibliothek - CIP-Einheitsaufnahme Stevenson, Gregory: Power and place : temple and identity in the Book of Revelation / Gregory Stevenson. - Berlin ; New York : de Gruyter, 2001 (Beihefte zur Zeitschrift fur die neutestamentliche Wissenschaft und die Kunde der älteren Kirche ; Bd. 107) Zugl.: Diss., 1999 ISBN 3-11-017008-6

© Copyright 2001 by Walter de Gruyter GmbH & Co. KG, 10785 Berlin. All rights reserved, including those of translation into foreign languages. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording or any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher. Printed in Germany Cover design: Christopher Schneider, Berlin Printing and Binding: Hubert & Co., Göttingen

To James, Beverly, and Sally Stevenson Without their support this book could never have been written.

Acknowledgments I would like to thank Luke Timothy Johnson whose encouragement and insight have been invaluable to me from the inception of this project. I thank Carl Holladay, Carol Newsom, and Walter Wilson for their support and helpful suggestions. Also deserving of my gratitude for their comments offered at various stages of this project are David Aune, Adela Yarbro Collins, Vernon Robbins, Eric Varner, and Bonna Wescoat. Special gratitude goes to Richard Oster, both for his helpful feedback on certain portions of the book and for stoking the fires of my interest in archaeology and in the book of Revelation. Although not responsible for any flaws in this work, their input has made it a much better book than it otherwise would have been. Finally, I would like to thank James Walters, whose excellence in the classroom inspired me to begin walking down the path I am on today.

Contents Abbreviations 1. Revelation and the Temple: Introduction

xiii 1

1.1

The Problem of the Temple in Revelation

2

1.2

The Language of Apocalyptic

6

(a) (b) (c) (d)

Image and Symbol The Genre of Apocalyptic The Function of Apocalyptic Rhetoric Temple as Social Symbol

6 10 12 16

1.3

The Temple and the Interpretation of Revelation (a) Material Culture and the Biblical Text (b) Cultural Perspective of Revelation (c) Interpretations of the Temple Language in Revelation..

19 19 24 28

1.4

Method and Plan

32

2. Significance of Temples in Greek and Roman Culture..

37

2.1

Introduction

37

2.2

Temple as Embodiment of Divine Presence

42

(a) (b) (c) (d)

42 44 48 52

2.3

Power and Presence Cult Statues and Thrones Purity and Access Epiphanies

Temple as Unifying Force (a) Temple and Religion (b) Temple and Society

55 55 68

χ

Contents

(c) Temple and Economic Stability (d) Temple and Civic/Political Life

72 75

2.4

Temples, Civic Pride and Identity (a) Badge of Identity and Source of Pride (b) The City as Protector of Temple and Cult (c) Competition and Civic Pride (d) Conceptualization and Symbolization of Identity

86 86 91 94 96

2.5

Temple as Place of Protection and Justice (a) Deity as Protector of City and Temple (b) Victory and Authority (c) Asylum and Supplication

99 99 102 103

2.6

Summary and Conclusion

113

3. Significance of the Temple in Jewish Life and Thought

115

3.1

Introduction

115

3.2

The Temple in Jewish Tradition and History: An Overview

116

3.3

Temple and the Divine Presence

121

(a) The Presence of God (b) Covenant and Election (c) Holiness and Purity

121 128 131

3.4

Temple as Unifying Force (a) Temple and Religion (b) Temple and Socio-Cultural Environment (c) Temple and Economic Stability (d) Temple and National/Political Life (e) Temple and Cosmology

135 136 143 147 151 154

3.5

Temple as Place of Power (a) Protection, Mercy, Wrath (b) The Jews and Temple Asylum (c) Kingship and Justice (d) Victory

157 157 161 164 166

Contents

xi

3.6

Temple and Jewish Identity (a) Nationalism (b) Continuity (c) Displacement

167 167 174 177

3.7

Summary and Conclusion

180

4. Temple, Power and Identity in Jewish Apocalyptic Literature

183

4.1

Introduction

183

4.2

Ezekiel

184

4.3

1 Enoch 85-90

187

4.4

Testament of Levi

191

4.5

4 Ezra

195

4.6

2 Baruch

200

4.7

Apocalypse of Abraham

206

4.8

Summary and Conclusion

210

5. The Temple and the Book of Revelation

215

5.1

Revelation and Cultural Pluralism

216

5.2

Displacement and Dating

218

5.3

Temple as Apocalyptic Symbol

220

6. Temple and Identity in Revelation 6.1

Rhetorical Situation: People of God or People of the World?

223 224

xii

Contents

6.2

Mediation of Revelation

231

6.3

Temple and the People of God (a) Lampstands and Priests (b) Access and Human Pillars: The Letter to Philadelphia.. (c) Restoration and Universalism (Revelation 7) (d) Prophecy, Kingdom, and Covenant (Revelation 1 1 ) . . . . (e) Sinai and Zion (Revelation 14-15) (f) New Jerusalem: New Place

237 239 241 251 257 265 267

6.4

Temple and the People of the World

272

6.5

Summary and Conclusion

276

7. Power and Place 7.1

279

Rhetorical Situation: Kingdom of God or Kingdom of the World?

279

7.2

Temple and the Power of God (a) Temple and Divine Power (b) Temple and Supplication (c) Temple and Covenant: The Seventh Trumpet (d) Temple and Divine Judgment

284 284 286 293 295

7.3

Summary and Conclusion

301

8. Conclusion

303

Bibliography

307

Index of Modern Authors

343

Index of Ancient Sources

351

Index of Scripture Citations

357

List of Abbreviations AAnz AB ABR AE AJA ANRW ANSNNM ANSMN AnSt Ant. Ar AUSS AvP

BA BAR BASOR BCH Bell Bib BibK BibSac BICS BMC, Caria

Archäologischer Anzeiger The Anchor Bible Australian Biblical Review L'Année Epigraphique American Journal of Archaeology Aufstieg und Niedergang der römischen Welt American Numismatic Society Numismatic Notes and Monographs American Numismatic Society Museum Notes Anatolian Studies Jewish Antiquities Ariel Andrews University Seminary Studies Altertümer von Pergamon. Vol. 8, 1-2 = Max Fränkel. Die Inschriften von Pergamon. Berlin: W. Spemann, 1890, 1895. Vol. 8, 3 = Christian Habicht. Die Inschriften des Asklepieions. Berlin: Walter de Gruyter, 1969. Biblical Archaeologist Biblical Archaeology Review Bulletin of the American Schools of Oriental Research Bulletin de Correspondence Hellénique Belleten Biblica Bibel und Kirche Bibliotheca Sacra Bulletin of the Institute of Classical Studies Head, Barclay V. Catalogue of the Greek Coins of Caria, Cos, Rhodes, &c. A Catalogue of the Greek Coins in the British Museum. Bologna: Arnaldo Forni, 1964.

xiv BMC, Ionia

BMC, Mysia

BMC, Palestine

BMC, Phrygia

BMCRE

BR BVC CBQ Chir CIG

Davies, Temple ETL GIBM

GUOST HAR Hesp HR HTR ICC IDBSupp IEJ IGRR

Abbreviations

Head, Barclay V. Catalogue of the Greek Coins of Ionia. A Catalogue of the Greek Coins in the British Museum. Bologna: Arnaldo Forni, 1964. Wroth, Warwick. Catalogue of the Greek Coins of Mysia. A Catalogue of the Greek Coins in the British Museum. Bologna: Arnaldo Forni, 1964. Hill, George Francis. Catalogue of the Greek Coins of Palestine (Galilee, Samaria, and Judaea). A Catalogue of the Greek Coins in the British Museum. Bologna: Arnaldo Forni, 1965. Head, Barclay V. Catalogue of the Greek Coins of Phrygia. A Catalogue of the Greek Coins in the British Museum. Bologna: Arnaldo Forni, 1964. Mattingly, H., et al., eds. Coins of the Roman Empire in the British Museum. 6 Vols. London: British Museum, 1873-1922; reprint, 1966. Biblical Research Bible et Vie Chrétienne Catholic Biblical Quarterly Chiron Corpus Inscriptionum Graecarum, ed. Augustus Boeckhius. 4 Vols. Hildesheim; New York: G. Olms, 1977. Davies, Philip R., ed. Second Temple Studies. 1. Persian Period. Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1991. Ephemerides Theologicae Lovanienses Hicks, E. L. The Collection of Ancient Greek Inscriptions in the British Museum. 4 Vols. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1874-1916. Glasgow University Oriental Society Transactions Hebrew Annual Review Hesperia History of Religions Harvard Theological Review International Critical Commentary Interpreter's Dictionary of the Bible Supplement Israel Exploration Journal Inscriptiones Graecae ad Res Romanas Pertinentes. 4 Vols. Paris: Ernest Leroux, 1906-27.

Abbreviations

IGS Int IvEph IvPriene IvSmyrna IvTralleis JAC JBL JETS JHS JJS JNES JÖAI JQR JR JRS JSJ JSNT JSOT JSP JTS Jud Koester, Ephesos Koester, Pergamon LCL LIMC Maa Madsen, Temple

MAMA

XV

Inschriften griechischer Städte aus Kleinasien. Bonn: Rudolf Habelt, 1972-. Interpretation Die Inschriften von Ephesos, ed. Hermann Wankel, et al. IGS 11,1-17,4. Bonn: Rudolf Habelt, 1979-1984. Inschriften von Priene, ed. F. FRHR Hiller von Gaertringen. Berlin: Georg Reimer, 1906. Die Inschriften von Smyrna, ed. Georg Petzl. IGS 2324,1. Bonn: Rudolf Habelt, 1982,1987. Die Inschriften von Tralleis, ed. Fjoder B. Poljakov. IGS 36,1. Bonn: Rudolf Habelt, 1989. Jahrbuch für Antike und Christentum Journal of Biblical Literature Journal of the Evangelical Theological Society Journal of Hellenic Studies Journal of Jewish Studies Journal of Near Eastern Studies Jahreshefte des Osterreichischen Archäologischen Instituts Jewish Quarterly Review Journal of Religion Journal of Roman Studies Journal for the Study ofJudaism Journal for the Study of the New Testament Journal for the Study of the Old Testament Journal for the Study of the Pseudepigrapha Journal of Theological Studies Judaism Koester, Helmut, ed. Ephesos: Metropolis of Asia. Valley Forge, PA: Trinity Press International, 1995. Koester, Helmut, ed. Pergamon: Citadel of the Gods. Harrisburg, PA: Trinity Press International, 1998. Loeb Classical Library Lexicon Iconographicum Mythologiae Classicae, ed. John Boardman et al. Zurich: Artemis Verlag, 1981-. Maarav Madsen, Truman G., ed. The Temple in Antiquity: Ancient Records and Modern Perspectives. Brigham Young University: Religious Studies Center, 1984. Monumenta Asiae Minoris Antiqua

xvi Neot New Documents

NRT NTS NT NumChr OGIS OJRS OTP

PECS

PEFQS PEQ PIBA Pr RA RB RE REJ RevExp RevQ RSR Sardis

SBLSP SEA SEG Sem

Abbreviations

Neotestamentica New Documents Illustrating Early Christianity, ed. G. H. R. Horsley, S. R. Llewelyn and R. A. Kearsley. 7 Vols. North Ryde, N.S.W.: The Ancient History Documentary Research Center, Macquarie University, 1981-. Nouvelle Revue Théologique New Testament Studies Novum Testamentum The Numismatic Chronicle Orientis Graeci Inscriptiones Selectae, ed. W. Dittenberger. 2 vols. Hildesheim: Georg Olms, 1960. Ohio Journal of Religious Studies The Old Testament Pseudepigrapha, ed. James H. Charlesworth. 2 Vols. New York: Doubleday, 1983, 1985. The Princeton Encyclopedia of Classical Sites, ed. Richard Stillwell. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1976. Palestine Exploration Fund QuarterlyStatement Palestine Exploration Quarterly Proceedings of the Irish Biblical Association Prooftexts Revue Archéologique Revue Biblique Paulys Real-Encyclopadie Revue des Etudes Juives Review and Expositor Revue de Qumran Revue des Sciences Religieuses Buckler, W. H. and David M. Robinson. Sardis: Greek and Latin Inscriptions. Publications of the American Society for the Excavation of Sardis. Vol. 7, 1. Leiden: Brill, 1932. Society of Biblical Literature Seminar Papers Svensk Exegetisk Ârsbok Supplementum Epigraphicum Graecum. Leiden: A. W. Sijthoff, 1923-. Semeia

Abbreviations

SIG3

SJOT Sou TAPA TB TDGR TDNT

TE VT WBC ZAW ZNW ZPE ZRG ZThK

xvii

Dittenberger, Wilhelm, et al. Sylloge Inscriptionum Graecarum. 4 Vols. 3d ed. Leipzig: S. Hirzel, 191524. Scandinavian Journal of the Old Testament Soundings Transactions and Proceedings of the American Philological Association Tyndale Bulletin Translated Documents of Greece and Rome Theological Dictionary of the New Testament. Edited by Gerhard Kittel. Translated and edited by Geoffrey W. Bromiley. 10 Vols. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1964-1976. Theologia Evangelica Vêtus Testamentum Word Biblical Commentary Zeitschrift für die Alttestamentliche Wissenschaft Zeitschrift für die Neutestamentliche Wissenschaft Zeitschrift für Papyrologie und Epigraphik Zeitschrift für Religions und Geistesgeschichte Zeitschrift für Theologie und Kirche

1. Revelation and the Temple: Introduction No physical structure in antiquity held more significance as a place of access to deity than a temple. It was the supreme locus of communication between the divine and the human, a place of mediation between heaven and earth. Since a temple was the abode of deity and the place of divine enthronement, access to divine power and mercy resided there, resulting in supplication for justice, refuge, and divine aid. A temple offered a sense of security based in a relationship with the deity. In Greco-Roman and ancient Near Eastern societies, religion was not a self-contained and isolated phenomenon. The influence of the divine realm was woven into the fabric of every aspect of existence. Because temples represented access to the power and presence of a deity, they functioned prominently in virtually every context where divine guidance was sought. Aside from a temple's role in what we would consider properly religious activities (worship, sacrifice, festivals, processions), it exerted influence in the social, political, and economic realms. Temple estates contained various properties and temples often housed the collective wealth of a people, the ancient equivalent to banks. Temples aided the organization of athletic competitions, provided space for honorary monuments and inscriptions, accommodated social and religious banquets and celebrations, and some even offered medical services. Given the significant functions of temples within everyday life, it is clear how a temple could be a vital symbol of identity that structured one's relationship both with the deity and with his or her surrounding environment. Early Christianity was comprised of Jewish and Gentile converts, for whom temples (be it the Jerusalem Temple or "pagan" temples) had formerly played a significant role in the ordering of religious and social life. Even Diaspora Jews, for whom the synagogue had acquired local prominence, still viewed the Jerusalem Temple as the center of Jewish religious identity. Early Christianity, however, was distinctive in the ancient Mediterranean world in having no physical temples at all. Any Jew or Gentile, therefore, who joined this movement left their temple(s) behind. Consequently, it is surprising when one turns to the book of Revelation and encounters therein . . . a temple.

2

Revelation and the Temple: Introduction

1.1 The Problem of the Temple in Revelation A survey of the text of Revelation reveals an abundance of temple and cultic language.1 After the opening assertion that followers of God have been made priests (Îepeîs ~ 1:6; cf. 20:6) comes a vision of one "like a son of man" standing amidst seven golden lampstands (λυχνίας χρυσός ~ 1:1213). The first explicit reference to a temple occurs in 3:12 where the reward for the one who overcomes is to be made a pillar (στΰλον) in the temple (ναω) of God. In chapters 4-20, the language centers on the heavenly temple. Chapters 4-5 depict activities that occur in the presence of the heavenly throne. Regardless of whether the setting for this throne is a temple, cultic presence is indicated by the worship offered to God (4:8-11; 5:9-14), the slaughtered Lamb (5:6), the harp (κιθάραν - 5:8), and the golden incense bowls (φιάλας χρυσά? - 5:8). Rev. 6:9 introduces an altar (θυσιαστηρίου) under which are the souls of martyrs. Following 7:15 where the victorious multitude is said to serve God in his temple (λατρεύουσιν . . . èv τω ναω αυτοί)), we encounter in 8:3-5 a golden altar and an angel with a golden censer (Χι,βανωτόν χρυσοΟν) and incense (θυμιαμάτων). Later that same altar speaks (9:13). Chapter eleven begins with a command to measure the temple, the altar and the outer court, and concludes with a vision of the Ark of the Covenant within God's heavenly temple (11:19). In 13:6, the beast slanders God's "dwelling place," or perhaps, "tabernacle" (σκηνήν). The primary concentration of temple language in Revelation is in chapters fourteen through sixteen. Two angels come from the heavenly temple and one from the altar to initiate the harvest and gathering of grapes (14:15-18). Then, with the advent of the seven plagues, the heavenly temple, which is identified with the "tabernacle of testimony" (ό vaòs της σκηνής του μαρτυρίου èv τω ούρανω), is opened and seven angels issue forth from it to receive seven golden bowls like those earlier filled with incense, but now containing the wrath of God (15:5-7). Following this, the temple fills with smoke and no one is allowed to enter until the plagues are complete (15:8). In chapter sixteen a voice from the temple orders the outpouring of the bowls (16:1) and the altar responds to an affirmation by the angel of waters (16:7). Then in grand fashion, as the last bowl is emptied, a voice comes "out of the

Although in this study I use the term "temple" to identify the sacred building, I include in my analysis (where appropriate) all of the architecture (such as the altar, etc.) and cultic paraphernalia associated with the entire temple complex.

The Problem of the Temple in Revelation

3

temple from the throne" (èκ του ναοί) άπό του θρόνου) to announce "It is done" (16:17). In the final chapters of Revelation, a startling transformation occurs. Although an angel who had been in the heavenly temple shows off the New Jerusalem (21:9) and God's tabernacle (σκηνή) is announced as being with the righteous (21:3), the final word on the temple comes in 21:22 with the statement that there is no temple in the New Jerusalem because "God and the Lamb are its temple" (ναός). What are we to make of the temple language in Revelation? Is it simply scattered and incidental or structured, purposeful and central to the message of the text? Any attempt to understand this language faces certain difficulties that are perhaps best construed as three questions that the interpreter must address. 1) Why does the temple appear in Revelation? Oddly, this important question has rarely been asked in studies on the temple in Revelation. Considering that Christians, both Jew and Gentile, no longer worshipped at temples, one must question why this symbol appears in a Christian text addressing what was likely a mixed cultural audience (Jewish and Gentile Christians) in western Asia Minor. The knowledge of what a temple meant to individuals and communities in antiquity — be it the Jerusalem Temple for Jews or Greek and Roman temples for Gentiles - goes a long way towards explaining why the temple functions as such a positive symbol in Revelation. More will be said on this issue later in this chapter; but for now, it suffices to say that one thesis of this study is that John, in addressing a mixed cultural audience in Asia Minor, employs the symbol of the temple and its associated imagery because it was a symbol that communicated powerfully to both cultural groups, making it an appropriate vehicle for his message. 2) What counts as temple symbolism in Revelation? To speak simply of "the temple" can be misleading due to the complexity surrounding temple language in Revelation. The term used in Revelation for the temple is vaós (occurring sixteen times). On three occasions the term for "tabernacle" (σκηνή) occurs (13:6; 15:5; 21:3). To say that the term vaos identifies the presence of the temple in Revelation is valid, but does not clarify to what the term refers. A multiplicity of Greek terms were used in antiquity to identify what we would call a "temple" (e.g. vaos, lepóv, Τ Έ Μ Ε Ν Ο Σ , OIKOS, etc.),2 and they were not always used consistently. Some terms denote the building itself (either the whole structure or a part such as the Most Holy Place), while others specify the larger sanctuary area. The same term might on one occaA similar variability occurs in Latin and Hebrew.

4

Revelation and the Temple: Introduction

sion identify the temple building proper and on another identify the whole temple complex of building, altar, and sanctuary. Revelation offers the benefit of restriction to only one of these terms, yet the precise nature of that term is debatable. Does ναός in Revelation represent only the most sacred area (what the Hebrews call the Holy of Holies), the entire temple building, or the entire sanctuary/precinct area complete with temple, altar and worshippers? Time and space also figure into the identification of the ναός. Is the temple earthly or heavenly? In many texts it is clear that the heavenly temple is in view as, for instance, when the heavenly throne or an angel is associated with it (7:15; 14:15-18; 16:1, 17) or when it is identified as the temple "in heaven" (έν τψ ούρανφ — 11:19; 14:17; 15:5). In 11:1-2, however, it is less clear whether the author envisions a temple in heaven or on earth. Even in texts where the identification of a heavenly temple seems certain, the temporal issue arises of whether the author speaks of a heavenly temple in the present or of a future, eschatological temple. Rev. 3:12 and 7:15, for instance, with their promises of being made pillars in the temple of God and serving God day and night in his temple seem to speak of eschatological rewards. The range of the language also presents problems. Do we translate σκηνή generally as "dwelling place" or more specifically as "tabernacle" with all that entails? Does the assertion in 13:6 that the beast blasphemes God's σκηνή refer to God's earthly dwelling (the Jerusalem Temple) or God's heavenly dwelling (the heavenly temple)? Should God's "tabernacle" (σκηνή) be identified with his heavenly "temple" (ναός) as is done in 15:5 and, if so, how then does one reconcile the presence of the "tabernacle" (21:3) in the New Jerusalem with the absence of the "temple" (21:22)? A further difficulty arises with texts that do not contain the terms for "temple" or "tabernacle," but do contain terminology often associated with temples. Chapters 4-5 are a prime example. Is this a temple scene or a throne scene independent of any temple? Are the two necessarily mutually exclusive? Must one assume, however, that the mere presence of cultic language in a scene necessitates the presence of a temple? Must one demand a temple every time a lampstand or an incense bowl makes an appearance? Furthermore, how is the relationship between the temple and the throne to be construed? Are they separate entities or is the throne assumed to be inside the temple? Does it matter? Likewise, what is to be done with the altar? Are there two altars — the one with souls under it (6:9) and the "golden altar" (8:3; 9:13) -- or just one?

The Problem of the Temple in Revelation

5

The preceding questions illustrate the difficulty facing anyone who seeks to make sense of the temple language in Revelation. I highlight the difficulty in order to guard against a premature simplification of what is in fact a complex and multi-faceted problem. Two principles, however, will be helpful for navigating this sea of confusion. They are the principle of flexibility and the principle of circularity. The principle of flexibility asserts that one must be cautious of forcing a rigid structure onto what is essentially a fluid and figurative description. The language of Revelation is symbolic, metaphorical language that uses the temple to communicate a spiritual message. Because the author does not attempt a detailed and consistent portrayal of the heavenly temple, one encounters what appear to be inconsistent assertions. Revelation 3:12, for example, says that those who overcome will be rewarded by being made pillars in the temple of God, a temple that is associated with the New Jerusalem; yet, when the New Jerusalem arrives, there is no temple (21:22). Also, in one text the altar has souls under it (6:9), while other references to the altar offer no hint of any souls being present (8:3-5). The reason for this inconsistency is that John uses the same language to communicate different ideas in different texts. The message is the thing, and not the detailed coherence of the language. Thus, to an extent, each text must be allowed to speak its own voice without forced harmonization with other texts that may be speaking in a different tone. Having said that, one must not abandon the search for coherence in John's employment of temple language. The principle of circularity asserts that certain images, terms, and themes scattered throughout the text of Revelation have a connection with one another so that, to an extent, an image occurring in one passage can help to interpret and explain the appearance of that same image in another passage. Leonard Thompson offers a description of this phenomenon in the text of Revelation. In that process of circularity and accumulation, placement in the narrative sequence is a significant factor; for earlier occurrences of a term, image, or motif become a given in the narrative line, to be drawn on in the development of a later scene. That is, a secondary occurrence in the work loops back around the first occurrence of the term, image, or motif, a tertiary occurrence loops back around the first two, and so forth. There is, thus, a kind of recursive process in which an earlier usage becomes a given and provides input into the meaning of a later one. 3 3

Leonard L. Thompson, "Mapping an Apocalyptic World," in Sacred Places and Profane Spaces: Essays in the Geographies of Judaism, Christianity, and Islam, eds. Jamie Scott and Paul Simpson-Housley (Westport, CT: Greenwood Press, 1991), 119.

6

Revelation and the Temple: Introduction

This concept of cumulative information should not be pressed to the point where the flexibility of the language is lost, but it can have significant impact on the interpretation of Revelation. With respect to temple and cultic language where one finds recurrent terminology and motifs, this principle allows one to construct a relatively coherent picture of the heavenly temple in Revelation; that is, a general conception of how John views the heavenly temple with the recognition of fluidity and flexibility within that general conception. The principle of circularity also proves helpful in addressing some of the questions raised above. Later occurrences of temple and throne language, for example, can shed valuable light upon the identification of the throne scene in chapters 4-5. 3) How does the temple function as a symbol in Revelation? The first two questions governing this study address why the temple was chosen as a symbol and how one identifies the temple in Revelation. Understanding why the temple is there and where it is to be found, however, does not equal an understanding of what it does. Any analysis of the temple in Revelation that does not answer the question of function is truncated in the extreme. In addition, an adequate understanding of the meaning and function of the temple in Revelation must be based upon the meaning and function of that symbol for the individuals and communities addressed by that text. This necessarily requires an awareness of the meanings and functions of Greek and Roman temples in addition to the Jerusalem Temple, since a reading of the temple in Revelation in the light of Jewish temple realities may help to explain the significance of that symbol for Jewish Christian readers, but it scarcely exhausts the significance of such a symbol for Gentile Christian readers. Furthermore, the analysis of the function of temple language in Revelation is also predicated upon an awareness of how the language of apocalyptic functions.

1.2 The Language of Apocalyptic (a) Image and Symbol That apocalyptic literature is symbolic literature appears straightforward, but the precise force such a statement carries depends upon what one means by the term "symbol." Furthermore, defining the relationship between "symbol" and "image" creates a ripple effect impacting the interpretation of the temple in Revelation, because the choice of either "imagery" or "symbol-

The Language of Apocalyptic

7

ism" as the rubric under which to confine the temple can greatly alter the perceived function of temple language. Generally, imagery is pictorial language. An image of a temple on a Roman coin is a visual representation designed to communicate a message. The image is tailored to the message and thus may or may not conform strictly to reality. In the context of written language, an image calls forth a mental picture that communicates through visualization, although at times the force of the image may seek to "overwhelm the imagination."4 A symbol is an image, but one that penetrates through the boundaries constraining the image. Paul Ricoeur distinguishes symbols and signs (what is here called an "image"). Signs point beyond themselves representationally and "say only what they want to say."5 In contrast to signs, symbols are opaque and carry a double intentionality, whereby the first, literal intentionality points "analogically" to a second intentionality that leads to deeper meanings. Consequently, the "depth of the s y m b o l . . . is inexhaustible."6 According to Ricoeur, a symbol functions to spark thought.7 One must, therefore, live within the symbol and allow it to lead one to the deeper riches of its meaning. Ricoeur asserts that although not every sign is a symbol, every symbol is a sign.8 Philip Wheelwright argues that within poetic language an image emphasizes a "concrete element," whereas a symbol insists upon a "semantic outreach."9 He offers the following broad definition of "symbol": "A symbol, in general, is a relatively stable and repeatable element of perceptual experience, standing for some larger meaning or set of meanings which cannot be given, or not fully given, in perceptual experience itself."10 He then distinguishes two types of symbols relative to their referents: steno symbols and tensive symbols.11 A steno symbol is a form of closed language in which the symbol bears a one-to-one correspondence with its referent. A tensive symbol, on the other hand, is characteristic of open or living language 4

5

6 7 8 9

10 11

G. B. Caird, The Language and Imagery of the Bible (Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1980), 149. Paul Ricoeur, The Symbolism of Evil, trans. Emerson Buchanan (Boston: Beacon Press, 1967), 15. Ibid., 15. Ibid., 348. Ibid., 14-15. Philip Wheelwright, Metaphor & Reality (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1962), 66, 68. Ibid., 92. Ibid., 33, 37, 45, 54, 94-96.

8

Revelation and the Temple: Introduction

and cannot be exhausted by a single referent. A tensive symbol is thus capable of multiple meanings. Wheelwright's distinction between steno and tensive symbols essentially corresponds to Ricoeur's distinction between sign (image) and symbol. Influenced by the work of Ricoeur and Wheelwright, Norman Perrin applies the categories of steno and tensive symbols to ancient Jewish and Christian apocalyptic literature for the purpose of contrasting apocalyptic symbolism with the symbolism of the Gospels.12 He concludes that apocalyptic symbols are primarily steno symbols and, like the mathematical symbol pi, they bear a one-to-one correspondence with a single referent. The book of Daniel, for example, employs steno symbols that correspond to individual historical referents, and the meaning of the symbol is exhausted with that first intentionality. In contrast, the symbol of the "kingdom of God" in the Gospels is a tensive symbol, alive with meaning, and not "exhausted nor adequately expressed by any one referent." 13 Perrin's analysis suffers from the common presupposition of apocalyptic literature as a substandard literary vehicle for the expression of religious truth claims. Consequently, he implies that apocalyptic does not contain any "real" symbols — only signs or steno symbols — and is about the business of calculation and prediction. 14 A number of voices express opposition to Perrin's assessment of apocalyptic symbolism. The counter-assertion is that apocalyptic literature, although on occasion using language with a one-to-one correspondence, primarily employs true symbols, what Perrin would term "tensive symbols." 15 The common identification of apocalyptic imagery as referential rather than symbolic is a misunderstanding of the poetic, evocative, and thoughtprovoking character of apocalyptic language. John Collins laments the approach that identifies apocalyptic symbols as "mere codes whose meaning can be exhausted by single referents" and replies that this "view fails to account for the perennial ambiguity of some symbols . . . for the fact that

12

13 14

15

Norman Perrin, "Eschatology and Hermeneutics: Reflections on Method in the Interpretation of the New Testament" JBL 93 (1974): 10-12; Jesus and the Language of the Kingdom (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1976), 29-31. Perrin, Jesus, 30. André Lacocque, "Apocalyptic Symbolism: A Ricoeurian Hermeneutical Approach," BR 26 (1981): 6. John J. Collins, "The Symbolism of Transcendence in Jewish Apocalyptic," BR 19 (1974): 5-6, 15-16; Elisabeth Schüssler Fiorenza, The Book of Revelation: Justice and Judgment (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1985; reprint, 1989), 183-184; Lacocque, 6-7.

The Language of Apocalyptic

9

apocalypses often offer several different images of the future, or for the evocative power of allusions to ancient myths and traditions."16 Apocalyptic symbolism is "open language," capable of multiple meanings in different contexts and designed to generate thought.17 An apocalyptic symbol encourages the seeking out of deeper meanings, rather than the narrow limiting of meaning to a single definition, and, therefore, allows for the "possible overtones of meanings" for both author and audience to become visible.18 These qualities make apocalyptic symbolism "a more flexible tool for the portrayal of reality than ordinary prose."19 The intermingling of symbolism and apocalyptic thought is highly appropriate. We regularly use symbols to order our reality. They allow us to access certain aspects of reality that are otherwise inaccessible.20 Since a major goal of apocalyptic thought is to offer a different perspective or different interpretation of "reality," symbolic language was a ready-made tool for that end. The nature of apocalyptic symbolism as open, multivalent and multilayered makes it a fitting vehicle for expressing language and concepts relating to the temple, since the very existence of a temple as a widespread phenomenon "challenges us with its complexity, diverse guises, and seemingly endless range of meanings."21 Wheelwright identifies five grades of significance of tensive symbols including "ancestral vitality" or literary life whereby the symbol is passed on and continually given new life in different poetic contexts, "significance for an entire cultural group," and "archetypal" significance in which the symbol holds meaning for large portions of humanity "independently of borrowings and historical influences."22 As a symbol in antiquity, a temple possesses all three of these aspects. The use of the temple as a symbol in numerous and diverse literary contexts in antiquity testifies to its "ancestral vitality." Temples were also highly significant symbols for individual cultural groups as Jewish temple traditions reveal. In addition, the widespread existence of temples in divergent geographical

16

17 18 19

20

21

22

John J. Collins, "Apocalyptic Literature," in Early Judaism and its Modern Interpreters, eds. Robert A. Kraft and George W. E. Nickelsburg (Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1986), 349-350. See also Lacocque, 9. Fiorenza, Book of Revelation, 186, 188. Fiorenza, Book of Revelation, 186. Jon Paulien, "Allusions, Exegetical Method, and the Interpretation of Revelation 8:712" (Ph.D. diss., Andrews University, 1987), 20-21. Mircea Eliade, Images and Symbols: Studies in Religious Symbolism, trans. Philip Mairet (New York: Sheed and Ward, 1969), 12. David M. Knipe, "The Temple in Image and Reality," in Temple in Society, ed. Michael V. Fox (Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 1988), 106. Wheelwright, 98-99.

10

Revelation and the Temple: Introduction

locales and cultural environs witnesses to its potential as an archetypal symbol. That an apocalyptic symbol, such as the temple, potentially possesses an inexhaustible depth of meaning does not indicate that this symbol is capable of meaning whatever any individual interpreter chooses. The potential meanings of the symbol are constrained both by the culture(s) from which the symbol derives and from the literary context in which the symbol occurs. In other words, Greco-Roman and ancient Near Eastern cultures establish certain boundaries, however flexible, for the potential range of meanings and functions of a temple within those cultures. Similarly, when the temple is used as a symbol in a poetic, literary context, the text establishes boundaries for the symbolic range of meaning of the temple.23 Thus, any interpretation of the meaning and function of the temple in Revelation must make sense within the cultural matrix or matrices where the book was written and sent, within the literary structure and context of the book, and within the historical situation of the book.24 A more precise understanding of how apocalyptic symbolism functions requires an awareness of the issues of genre and rhetoric.

(b) The Genre of Apocalyptic The nearly universal consensus that such a phenomenon as "apocalyptic literature," of which Revelation is an example, exists must be balanced over against the equally universal consensus regarding the extreme difficulty of defining such a genre in an all-encompassing and completely satisfactory manner. The problem is that the examples of revelatory literature commonly analyzed contain such a variety of content and structure that a single definition is hard-pressed to account for the innumerable variations. A general survey of the genre discussion will, however, highlight two issues relevant to this study. Traditional schemes of identification construct a list of characteristics of apocalypses.25 The problem with this approach is that many apocalypses do 23

24

25

Fiorenza states that Revelation utilizes rhetorical markers, such as when the text offers its own interpretation, to ensure that multivalent symbols are understood in a particular way, Book of Revelation, 189. Fiorenza makes the point that the poetic language of Revelation must make sense within the structure of the book and within its historical situation, Book of Revelation, 187. I add that such language must also make sense within its social and cultural context. For examples see Klaus Koch, The Rediscovery of Apocalyptic, trans. Margaret Kohl (London: SCM Press, 1972), 23ff; Philipp Vielhauer and Georg Strecker, "Apocalypses

The Language of Apocalyptic

11

not have all of these characteristics, while most of the characteristics are also found in works deemed non-apocalyptic.26 The Apocalypse Group of the Society of Biblical Literature Genres Project has attempted a "comprehensive definition of the genre" that is based upon Jewish, Christian, Gnostic, GrecoRoman, and Persian revelatory literature. The definition reported by John Collins is worth repeating. 'Apocalypse' is a genie of revelatory literature with a narrative framework, in which a revelation is mediated by an otherworldly being to a human recipient, disclosing a transcendent reality which is both temporal, insofar as it envisages eschatological salvation, and spatial insofar as it involves another, supernatural world.27

The above definition analyzes the genre from the standpoint of form and content, but does not adequately address the question of function. David Hellholm, in reply, offered the addition "intended for a group in crisis with the purpose of exhortation and/or consolation by means of divine authority."28 This emphasis on apocalyptic literature as a response to some form of crisis is helpful so long as one allows for a broad definition of "crisis" that includes the element of perception.29 David Aune emphasizes the element of transcendence that was mentioned in Collins' definition. Apocalyptic literature offers a transcendent perspective on human experience.30 In addition, he argues that a more precise understanding of the literary function of apocalypses should accompany the social function highlighted by Hellholm. This literary function is threefold in that it involves the legitimation of the transcendent authority of the message, the representation of the author's original revelatory experience, and the encour-

26

27 28

29

30

and Related Subjects: Introduction," in New Testament Apocrypha, ed. Wilhelm Schneemelcher; rev. ed. by Edgar Hennecke (Louisville, KY: Westminster/John Knox Press, 1992), 545-554. E. P. Sanders, "The Genre of Palestinian Jewish Apocalypses," in Apocalypticism in the Mediterranean World and the Near East, ed. David HelÚiolm (Tübingen: J. C. B. Möhr, 1983), 449. John. J. Collins, "Introduction: Towards the Morphology of a Genre," Sem 14 (1979): 9. David Hellholm, "The Problem of Apocalyptic Genre and the Apocalypse of John," Sem 36 (1986): 27. Interpreting the social function of apocalypses in the light of some form of crisis or alienation is a common practice: P. D. Hanson, "Apocalypticism," in IDBSupp, eds. Keith Crim et al (Nashville: Abingdon, 1976), 30; D. S. Russell, Prophecy and the Apocalyptic Dream: Protest and Promise (Peabody, Mass: Hendrickson, 1994), 14-18. A. Y. Collins, "Persecution and Vengeance in the Book of Revelation," in Apocalypticism in the Mediterranean World and the Near East, ed. David Hellholm (Tübingen: J. C. B. Möhr, 1983), 729. David E. Aune, "The Apocalypse of John and the Problem of Genre," Sent 36 (1986): 65.

12

Revelation and the Temple: Introduction

agement of cognitive and behavioral modification on the basis of the transcendent message.31 Of primary importance is the dual emphasis on transcendence and function, both social and literary. To understand how the author of Revelation utilizes temple symbolism, it is first necessary to understand what the author seeks to accomplish with the work as a whole. How does transcendence and the opening of human experience to the purview of the spiritual realm allow the author of Revelation to communicate his message? What role does transcendence play in the literary function of the document? To these questions we now turn.

(c) The Function of Apocalyptic Rhetoric David Aune's analysis of the literary function of apocalyptic literature as offering a transcendent perspective on human experience for the purpose of changing the way individuals think and behave is an important general statement of the literary function of apocalyptic rhetoric. This literary function addresses certain sociological realities. Apocalyptic rhetoric addresses perceptions of injustice, suffering, incompatibility between one's desired place in the world and one's place in the world as determined by social and political institutions and structures, and challenges to self and group identity and survival.32 These are in part emotional issues that cannot be dealt with adequately on the basis of intellectual clarification alone. An apocalyptic argument engages the audience on both an intellectual and emotional level. The value of apocalyptic lies in its ability to make a holistic argument, precisely because it is tailor-made for addressing both the mind and the heart. How exactly apocalyptic, and specifically Revelation, accomplishes this is a matter of much debate. Apocalyptic rhetoric involves a mixture of emotional appeal and intellectual argument. Analyses of apocalyptic rhetoric frequently focus upon one or the other of these aspects without fully appreciating the interaction of the two. The argument of apocalyptic discourse is imbedded in the narrative construct of a story, a story that seeks to persuade both by connecting with

31 32

Ibid., 89-90. For a fuller discussion of some of the questions and issues that apocalyptic addresses see Amos N. Wilder, "The Rhetoric of Ancient and Modern Apocalyptic," Int 25 (1971): 440-49.

The Language of Apocalyptic

13

the emotions and by making a point.33 The creation of this narrative is done in large part through symbols, and it is often on the level of the symbols that the message is communicated. It is generally recognized that the author of Revelation creates a symbolic world or universe that is set in juxtaposition with the social-political world of the Roman Empire.34 What needs to be determined is the literary and social function of this symbolic world. The majority of approaches to the interpretation of John's symbolic world may be categorized according to the following four functions: the explanatory/legitimating function, the therapeutic function, the imaginative function, and the transformative function.35 According to the explanatory/legitimating function, the book of Revelation creates a symbolic world in order to explain why the world looks as it does and/or to legitimate a particular aspect of that world. Stephen D. O'Leary provides an example of this approach with his argument that apocalyptic literature functions as a "symbolic theodicy" that both explains and legitimates the presence of evil in the world by the way that it constructs time.36 The therapeutic approach offers a psychoanalytic interpretation of Revelation that views the book as a form of therapy. John Gager reads Revelation as mythic therapy designed to help the readers conquer their despair over their present situation by offering the hope of a mythical future.37 Adela Yarbro Collins argues that Revelation functions to control aggressive feelings. The author encourages the audience to recognize and experience their feelings of fear and resentment by heightening the sense of conflict between what is (their perception of the world as it is) and what ought to be (their perception of how a world ruled by God ought to look). Then,

33

34

35

36

37

Awareness of the narrative structure of Revelation has led to comparisons with Greek drama. See, for example, John Wick Bowman, "The Revelation to John: Its Dramatic Structure and Message," Int 9 (1955): 436-453; James L. Blevins, "The Genre of Revelation," RevExp 77 (1980): 393-408. Fiorenza, Book of Revelation, 187; Hanson, 30; Leonard Thompson, "A Sociological Analysis of Tribulation in the Apocalypse of John," Sem 36 (1986): 165. Some use the term "theopoetic" to describe this symbolic world; see Richard B. Hays, The Moral Vision of the New Testament: Community, Cross, New Creation (San Francisco: HarperSanFrancisco, 1996), 173. These categories are my own and are intended to be representational rather than exhaustive. Also, one must allow for overlap and interaction between them. Stephen D. O'Leary, Arguing the Apocalypse: A Theory of Millennial Rhetoric (New York: Oxford University Press, 1994), 14, 34, 63. John G. Gager, Kingdom and Community: The Social World of Early Christianity (Englewood Cliffs, NJ: Prentice-Hall, 1975), 51-55.

14

Revelation and the Temple: Introduction

Revelation offers an outlet or catharsis for these feelings through symbolic narratives and the structure of the document.38 The "imaginative" approach highlights the manner by which the symbolic world/universe addresses the imagination of the audience. E. S. Fiorenza asserts that apocalyptic language is imaginative, rather than descriptive or explanatory, language.39 Revelation, in particular, is a mixture of "visionary rhetoric" that seeks to persuade and poetry that seeks to engage the imagination. In short, Revelation is a "poetic-rhetorical work" that "seeks to persuade and motivate by constructing a 'symbolic universe' that invites imaginative participation."40 This approach shares much in common with the previous one. A. Y. Collins argues, for example, that the psychological catharsis occurs "in an act of literary imagination" that offers an interpretation of present reality and allows the audience to share in that interpretation.41 John creates a symbolic vision of what ought to be.42 This approach depicts the readers/hearers of Revelation as retreating into the imagination as a means of coping with the harsh realities of their real world. It thus gives them strength to return to the real world and deal with it. Collins even compares Revelation to a schizophrenic who uses "elaborate fantasies" to cope with reality.43 The transformative approach asserts that the symbolic rhetoric of apocalyptic effects real change. John does not create an "alternative" symbolic universe set in juxtaposition to the "real" world; neither does he counsel a temporary retreat from reality. Rather, he seeks to transform reality in the minds of his readers. David L. Barr argues that readers who allow themselves to be drawn into the symbolic world of Revelation "would be transformed, and so would the world they live in for they would understand that world differently . . . This is just what the Apocalypse does. This is no ephemeral experience. The hearers are decisively changed. They now live in

38

39

40 41 42 43

Adela Yarbro Collins, Crisis & Catharsis: The Power of the Apocalypse (Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1984), 141, 152-154. E. S. Fiorenza, "The Phenomenon of Early Christian Apocalyptic. Some Reflections on Method," in Apocalypticism in the Mediterranean World and the Near East, ed. David Hellholm (Tübingen: J. C. B. Möhr, 1983), 305. Fiorenza, Book of Revelation, 187. Collins, Crisis & Catharsis, 141, 144; see also "Persecution and Vengeance," 729, TAI. Collins, Crisis & Catharsis, 142. She states: "The solution of the Apocalypse is an act of creative imagination which, like that of the schizophrenic, withdraws from empirical reality, from real experience in the everyday world," Collins, Crisis & Catharsis, 155.

The Language of Apocalyptic

15

another world."44 D. S. Russell similarly asserts that those who enter this apocalyptic world become "new people."45 Although all four of the above approaches are capable of shedding light on the text of Revelation, it is the transformative approach that offers the best insight into the function of John's symbolic world. John views Satan as a grand illusionist who has deceived humanity into believing that Rome rules the world, that God's justice is no longer operating, that faithfulness will not be rewarded, and that Christians have been overcome. Consequently, John seeks to identify for his readers the illusory nature of this "reality" and, in so doing, alter their perception ofthat "reality." Apocalyptic symbolism offers a transcendent perspective on the world and the human situation.46 By allowing his audience to glimpse the spiritual realm and by allowing that realm to critique his readers' perception of reality, John asserts that the only true reality is that which is seen through a transcendent lens. He seeks to transform at a fundamental level the way his readers experience and understand the world they live in and their place in it. For John, it is his symbolic world that pierces Satan's illusions and offers access to true reality — that God, not Rome, rules the universe, that God's justice is working itself out in the world, that faithfulness does achieve a reward, and that the believers are the victors. Indeed, for those convinced by John's symbolic construct, the world has become a different place. In his critique of crisis theories, Leonard Thompson shows some affinities with the transformative approach. He attacks crisis theories, which assert that the symbolic world of Revelation was created in direct response to some form of crisis, for unduly separating the social from the symbolic. Crisis theorists, he argues, tend to support a uni-directional flow of causality in which a reconstructed social situation generates a symbolic, literary expression that is "malleable to the more 'real' social, political situation; while social experience . . . exists as an impenetrable entity, unaffected essentially by religious, mythic, and literary symbols."47 In contrast, Thompson rightly argues that the symbolic and the. social are inextricably linked.

44

45 46

47

David L. Ban, "The Apocalypse as a Symbolic Transformation of the World: A Literary Analysis," Int 38 (1984): 49. Russell, 60. Collins, "Symbolism of Transcendence," 11-12, 21; Wayne A. Meeks, The Moral World of the First Christians (Philadelphia: Westminster, 1986), 143-45. Paul S. Minear adds that with apocalyptic, as with prophecy, future expectations function as reflections on present experience, New Testament Apocalyptic (Nashville: Abingdon, 1981), 62. Thompson, "Sociological Analysis," 163.

16

Revelation and the Temple: Introduction

Those theorists assume that there is an ordered, central reality to the social world, and separate from that is another ordered world created by John. Each forms a separate circle. As an alternative to that model, I propose that John's symbolic world is both comprehensive and coherent. It is comprehensive in that John offers his symbolic structure as an all-inclusive world embracing the whole of Christian existence including social, political exchanges in everyday life. His symbolics are misinterpreted if they are seen aá an alternative order situated at the periphery of the 'real social world.' John's symbolic world is coherent in that, if appropriated, it integrates human experience and makes Christian existence whole. Rather than imagining John's symbolics as a separate circle, they are better understood as a grid or an overlay that orders all experience.48

A nuanced understanding of the social aspects of John's symbolic world allows for a greater appreciation of the appropriateness of the temple as an apocalyptic symbol. As an institutional reality operating within the social, political, and economic life of a community, a temple impacted virtually every aspect of everyday life. On the other hand, a temple was also a religious phenomenon that mediated between heaven and earth, offering access to the divine. Consequently, no other symbol was more appropriate for addressing the social needs of a people and for offering access to a transcendent perspective on the world.

(d) Temple as Social Symbol In the above discussion it was argued that apocalyptic symbols have both social and literary significance. Having highlighted some of the literary elements in the previous section, the discussion now turns to a brief analysis of one aspect of the social significance of the temple as symbol in Revelation. In antiquity, a temple was an important social and political place, but above all it was a religious place — sacred space where one could access the divine. As a place of intersection between the social, political, and religious, a temple often became an important symbol by which a community conceived of its identity and sense of place in the world. Jonathan Z. Smith argues that societies and individuals create their identity through "an understanding and symbolization of place," which is both geographical and social.49 48 49

Ibid., 166. Jonathan Z. Smith, Map Is Not Territory: Studies in the History of Religions (Leiden: E. J. Brill, 1978), 143.

The Language of Apocalyptic

17

The question of the character of the place on which one stands is the fundamental symbolic and social question. Once an individual or culture has expressed its vision of its place, a whole language of symbols and social structures will follow. 50

Consequently, because the symbolic and social are intertwined, a change in one's social "place" necessitates a change in one's symbols. Thus, Smith can assert that "social change is preeminently symbol or symbolic change."51 So, for instance, with the destruction of the Jerusalem Temple in 70 C.E., a large portion of Judaism lost its central, sacred place. This sparked a reconfiguration of Judaism's symbols as the law came to take on greater priority as a symbol and recourse to a heavenly or eschatological temple gained frequency. Smith constructs a typology of religious communities in antiquity on the basis of their "place in the world": locative groups and diasporic groups. A locative view of the world emphasizes a specific, "real" place and develops structures and traditions around that homeplace. The Jewish community in Jerusalem would be a locative religious group. A diasporic view of the world, on the other hand, acknowledges the lack of a homeplace.52 Diasporic Judaism is obviously an example of this type. Since social change (as in the shift from a locative to a diasporic situation) often necessitates symbol change, diasporic religious communities tend to develop cultic alternatives for the previous sacred center (such as temples), view themselves as spiritual exiles from their true heavenly home, and develop new means of accessing the deity independent of any particular place (such as visions, epiphanies, and heavenly journeys).53 Diasporic religions tend to be religions of transcendence.54 Without debating the accuracy of all of Smith's distinctions, this study picks up on one central feature of his work ~ that one's self-identity and sense of social place is inextricably bound up with one's symbolic world. Two points are important to my employment of this concept. First, social change should not be understood simply in geographical terms. A community like that at Qumran may be in geographical proximity to the central 50 51 52 53

54

Ibid., 141. Ibid., 143. Ibid., xii, xiv, 101. Ibid., xiv. See also J. Ronald Engel, "The Question of the Place on Which We Stand: An Agenda for Religious Social Ethics," in Liberation and Ethics: Essays in Religious and Social Ethics in Honor of Gibson Winter, ed. Charles Amjad-Ali and W. Alvin Pitcher (Chicago: Center for the Scientific Study of Religion, 1985), 5-6. Smith, xiv.

18

Revelation and the Temple: Introduction

religious place (the Jerusalem Temple) and yet feel displaced, leading to the creation of a new symbolic world in which the community becomes the temple. Second, the idea that a change in either one's social "place" or in one's view of the world necessitates symbol change can also be reversed, i.e. that a change in symbol can affect one's view of the world and of one's place in it. If a community like Qumran perceives that the Jerusalem Temple (as a symbol of Jewish faith and identity) has become corrupt, that recognition can spark a réévaluation of community identity and status. The book of Revelation was written to diasporic communities, and this is true with regards to both Jews and Gentiles. Although Gentile Christians were not geographically separated from their previous sacred centers, their conversion to Christianity caused them to be cut off from the temples and cultic activities that had functioned prominently in their lives and played a constitutive role in their identity. Of course, many Jewish communities in Asia Minor had adapted to daily life without a temple and had transferred their worship to the synagogue. Nevertheless, for Diaspora Jews in the first century C.E., the Jerusalem Temple still played an important ideological role in the makeup of their identity as Jews so that conversion to Christianity, involving as it did exclusion from temple and synagogue, would have held significant repercussions for the self-identity of those individuals.55 Consequently, diasporic religious groups tend to seek out new symbols or new construals of old symbols (such as temple) in order to address issues about their identity, their understanding of the world and of God, and their relationship to both. Also, the need for addressing these issues is heightened in a time of ideological tension. Smith states: When the world is perceived to be chaotic, reversed, liminal, filled with anomie. [sic] Then man finds himself in a world which he does not recognize; and perhaps even more terrible, man finds himself to have a self he does not recognize. Then he will need to create a new world, to express his sense of a new place. 56

I do not mean to suggest that the book of Revelation was written for the purpose of responding to the loss of the temple(s) or for the purpose of providing Christians with a "new place." The point is rather that an understanding of the social location of the original audience of Revelation as people without a temple changes our sense of the symbolic force the temple 55

56

That the book of Revelation may have been written after the destruction of the Jerusalem Temple also impacts the potential displacement of Jewish Christians. The effect of the date of Revelation on this discussion is dealt with in chapter five. Smith, 145-46.

The Temple and the Interpretation of Revelation

19

language in Revelation might have had for them.57 Jews and Gentiles in antiquity looked to their temple(s) for identity, group cohesion, justice and authority, protection, guidance, and security. Because a temple was both a social institution and the place for accessing deity, it mediated the deity or deities' interaction within the social life of a community. In the case of Revelation, the Christian communities appear to have been experiencing various forms of suffering, identity conflicts, conflicts with the surrounding culture and with Rome, injustice, insecurity, and fear. Revelation, with its heavenly journeys, divine epiphanies, and heavenly temple, expresses how they have access to God in a way that addresses all these issues. In essence, the temple in Revelation functions in many ways as a real temple did — by providing symbolic access to God.

1.3 The Temple and the Interpretation of Revelation (a) Material Culture and the Biblical Text In recent decades, methodological discussions within the discipline of archaeology have addressed the often uneasy relationship between archaeological materials and literary texts.58 The great gulf between archaeological and textual studies is normally traversed only for the purpose of utilizing archaeological materials either to "prove" a text or to offer footnote support to reconstructions based on texts.59 In other words, textual evidence takes

57

58

59

Paul's use of temple language in 1-2 Corinthians provides an analogy. Neither book was written because Christians no longer had a temple nor for the purpose of offering a new temple, but recognizing what is involved for Christians in having left temples behind aids an understanding of what Paul's assertion that the church is the temple would have meant for them. Roland de Vaux, "On Right and Wrong Uses of Archaeology," in Near Eastern Archaeology in the Twentieth Century: Essays in Honor of Nelson Glueck, ed. James A. Sanders (Garden City, New York: Doubleday, 1970), 69-70; G. Ernest Wright, "What Archaeology Can and Cannot Do," BA 34 (1971): 70-76; Stephen L. Dyson, "A Classical Archaeologist's Response to the 'New Archaeology,'" BASOR 242 (Spring 1981): 7-13; Arnaldo Momigliano, "Biblical Studies and Classical Studies: Simple Reflections About Historical Method," BA 45 (1982): 224-228; Fredric Brandfon, "The Limits of Evidence: Archaeology and Objectivity," Maa 4 (1987): 5-43; David W. Jamieson-Drake, "Text vs. Tell: Which Sets the Agenda?" in SBLSP 1989, ed. David J. Lull (Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1989), 458-465. Jamieson-Drake, 460; Johan Burger, "Archaeology - An Important Historical Source," TE 25 (1992): 44.

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Revelation and the Temple: Introduction

priority and archaeology,60 when employed at all, functions as a subdisciplinary partner. What is needed is an ongoing dialogue between archaeology and literary studies, with archaeology offering an inter-disciplinary rather than a subdisciplinary perspective.61 Each discipline brings its own contributions and limitations to the table and the contributions of the one can help to offset the limitations of the other. Neither discipline offers a complete and objective view of ancient life.62 Both material remains and written documents are socially produced texts that require interpretation and must be used in accord with the distinct rules and methods of each separate discipline.63 Literary analyses of texts can benefit from the peculiar insight offered by archaeology. As with literary documents, material remains provide only a fragmentary and partial glimpse into ancient life, but they do so from a different perspective. Material culture provides a physical context for disembodied texts.64 Relatively few people in antiquity spent a significant amount of time interacting with literary texts, but they interacted with their material world constantly. In certain instances, material remains provide insight into other strata of society, allowing other voices to speak and, thus, offering a balance to the aristocratic biases of much ancient literature.65 As Johan Burger states: "The written source and the artifact together must tell the story."66 Maintaining a dialogue between material and literary sources can be difficult at times due to the state of the evidence. In the analysis of early Christian worship practices, for instance, the New Testament and other early Christian texts necessarily take priority as witnesses because of the general lack of distinctively Christian remains from Christianity's early, formative

60

61

62 63

64 65 66

My use of the term "archaeology" encompasses inscribed materials such as inscriptions and coins in addition to the "mute" remains. Dyson, 11; de Vaux, "Archaeology," 65, 78; Jamieson-Drake argues that for this dialogue to be achieved, textual studies will need to "adopt a more sociological bent," 463. de Vaux, "Archaeology," 70; Jamieson-Drake, 459.. Shanks and Tilley argue that interpreting material culture is "an act of translation" dependent on the contexts of both the physical remains and the interpreters who determine the questions to be asked of the remains, Michael Shanks and Christopher Tilley, Social Theory and Archaeology (Albuquerque: University of New Mexico Press, 1987), 211. See also Dyson, 11; Jamieson-Drake, 458-59; de Vaux, "Archaeology," 6970, 78; Wright, 76. Burger, 46. Ibid., 46. Ibid., 47.

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years.67 In contrast, the study of early Indian Buddhism demonstrates that archaeological data takes priority since it predates the sacred texts.68 The book of Revelation, however, offers a case of contemporaneous and geographically circumscribed material and literary evidence. We can firmly place the book in western Asia Minor in the last half of the first century in a context relatively rich with material remains. Clearly the opportunity for a dialogue between the archaeological and literary disciplines is present. Unfortunately, New Testament interpreters have not taken advantage of this opportunity. One reason for insufficient dialogue in the case of Revelation is the general lack of awareness of ancient material culture among interpreters of the New Testament. Writing nearly thirty years ago, Robert Grant lamented this lack of awareness as "one of the major weaknesses of NT study." Discussing what happens when scholars do encounter the ancient world, Grant states: they often lack the time or the inclination to go into it at any depth. They skim the surface, relying upon manuals that summarize other people's researches . . . Neglecting the concrete actuality of the ancient historians, of papyri, inscriptions, coins, and other archaeological remains, they then seek to advance learning in their field by reading one another's books. 69

The situation has improved little today.70 Exacerbating the situation is the general neglect of archaeological materials outside of Palestine in New

67

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69 70

Graydon Snyder asserts that "distinctively Christian archaeological data does not appear until about 180," Ante Pacem: Archaeological Evidence of Church Life before Constantine (Macon, GA: Mercer University Press, 1985), 2. The study of Indian Buddhism offers a good example of the incredible bias towards literary texts in religious studies. Despite the later date for the sacred texts, these texts have been given priority as sources for early Indian Buddhism by interpreters who have even used them to correct the earlier archaeological data when it conflicts with the later texts, Gregory Schopen, "Archaeology and Protestant Presuppositions in the Study of Indian Buddhism," HR 31 (1991): 1-23. Goodenough wrestles with a similar issue when he addresses the practice of prioritizing the Palestinian Mishnah and Midrashim over "the actual artifacts in Rome and Dura" as evidence for Jewish thought in those cities, Erwin R. Goodenough, Jewish Symbols in the Greco-Roman Period (New York: Pantheon Books, 1965), 12.185. Robert M. Grant, "American New Testament Study, 1926-1956," JBL 87 (1968): 48. For discussions of the frequent neglect of inscriptions and coins in New Testament study see G. H. R. Horsley, "The Inscriptions of Ephesos and the New Testament," NT 34 (1992): 167; Richard Oster, "Numismatic Windows into the Social World of Early Christianity: A Methodological Inquiry," JBL 101 (1982): 195, 218.

22

Revelation and the Temple: Introduction

Testament interpretation.71 Considering that the church rapidly moved out into the larger Roman world, this neglect is puzzling.72 Despite this neglect, Revelation offers a rich field for exploring the interaction of biblical text and material culture. Revelation is a highly visual book in the sense that its descriptions and imagery are intended to appeal to the eye as much as to the heart and mind. Fantastic visions, rich visual imagery, and elaborate descriptions make it a book to be seen (in the mind's eye) as much as heard or read. Considering that first century culture was dominated by visual imagery (statues, coins, sculpture, reliefs, paintings and frescoes, etc.), one might argue that any interpretation of the imagery and symbolism of Revelation that did not take into account the visual makeup of ancient society was deficient. To use numismatics as an example, Richard Oster argues that the visual messages on coins provide valuable information for understanding the language of the early church. Because ancient culture was "not undergirded by the dissemination of the printed page, visual language was part of the lingua franca in a way foreign to our present experience" so that "iconography was no less powerful or cogent than written or spoken communication."73 Consequently, the visual imagery on coins can offer useful insight into the interpretation of the visual language of Revelation. The iconographie technique of the Revelation of John with its phantasmagory of grotesque beasts (Rev 4:6-8; 6:1-8; 9:7-9; 19:4), sacerdotal censers, altars, and offerings (Rev 5:8; 8:3-5; 14:18; 15:7; 16:1-4, 8, 10, 12, 17; 17:1; 21:9), regal paraphernalia of diadems, crowns, thrones scintillating with thunderbolts, etc. (Rev 3:21; 4:2-10; 5:13; 7:10-17; 14:14; 19:4-5, 12; 20:11; 22:1-3), prowess of equestrian soldiers (Rev 6:2-8; 19:11-14, 21), and use of animals to emblematize individuals, religions, and deities (Rev 5:6, 8, 12-13; 7:9, 10, 14, 17; 12:3, 4, 7, 9, 14-15; 13:11; 14:1, 4, 10; 16:13; 20:2; 21:9, 14, 22, 23, 27) is mirrored in contemporary visual language of coins which utilized many of the same symbols and images to communicate related ideas. 74 71

72

73 74

Oster identifies this trend as the "Holy Land captivity" of archaeology, Richard E. Oster, A Bibliography of Ancient Ephesus (Metuchen, NJ: Scarecrow Press, 1987), xxiii. See also Steven J. Friesen, "Revelation, Realia, and Religion: Archaeology in the Interpretation of the Apocalypse," HTR 88 (1995): 292. Referring to the unbalanced emphasis on Qumran and Nag Hammadi, Grant asserts that the "rise of early Christianity remains incomprehensible apart from the life of the early Roman empire," Grant, 48. Oster, "Numismatic Windows," 200. Ibid., 219. Since Oster's admonition, a few authors have employed numismatic materials to illuminate select concepts or specific texts in Revelation, Ernest P. Janzen, "The Jesus of the Apocalypse Wears the Emperor's Clothes," in SBLSP 1994, ed.

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23

Unfortunately, the vast majority of Revelation studies ignore material culture completely in favor of various forms of literary criticism or conventional historical criticism. If material culture is employed at all, it is in the form of an occasional reference in the footnotes to an inscription or coin.75 Those studies that do engage material culture on some level generally do not combine that analysis with a literary/exegetical analysis of the text. A number of articles deal with material culture in a limited fashion for the purpose of highlighting potential background sources for certain images or themes in Revelation, but these studies do not adequately exploit the literary significance of these connections for interpreting Revelation.76 Studies utilizing archaeological materials in a more systematic and extensive fashion focus on two areas. One is the local allusions to the seven churches of Revelation.77 These are essentially background studies and do not correlate the evidence they discuss with a systematic literary analysis of the letters. The second area of concentration is the social, economic and political aspects (imperial cult) of Revelation's historical situation.78 These

75 76

77

78

Eugene H. Lovering, Jr. (Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1994), 637-661; Robert Beauvery, "L'Apocalypse au Risque de la Numismatique," RB 90 (1983): 243-60; Larry Rreitzer, "Sibylline Oracles 8, the Roman Imperial Adventus Coinage of Hadrian and the Apocalypse of John," JSP 4 (1989): 69-85. This problem is especially acute in the commentaries. Howard Wallace, "Leviathan and the Beast in Revelation," BA 11 (1948): 61-68; Stephen J. Patterson, "A Note on an Argive Votive Relief of Selene," HTR 78 (1985): 439-43; H. D. Saffrey, "Relire l'Apocalypse a Patmos," RB 82 (1975): 385-417; Roland Bergmeier, "Altes und Neues zur 'Sonnenfrau am Himmel (Apk 12)': Religionsgeschichtliche und quellenkritische Beobachtungen zu Apk 12:1-17," ZNW 73 (1982): 97-109; Jan Willem van Henten, "Dragon Myth and Imperial Ideology in Revelation 1213," in SBLSP 1994, ed. Eugene H. Lovering, Jr. (Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1994), 496515. In contrast, Adela Yarbro Collins' substantial and valuable study on the combat myth in Revelation deals with material culture, but primarily gathers the material evidence together in an appendix in order to demonstrate the widespread presence of the mythical patterns established earlier in the book through literary analysis, The Combat Myth in the Book of Revelation (Missoula, Montana: Scholars Press, 1976). Robert M. Royalty, Jr. makes use of some inscriptions in analyzing the theme of wealth in Revelation, The Streets of Heaven: The Ideology of Wealth in the Apocalypse of John (Macon, GA: Mercer University Press, 1998). William M. Ramsay, The Letters to the Seven Churches of Asia and Their Place in the Plan of the Apocalypse (1904; repr. Grand Rapids, MI: Baker, 1979); Colin J. Hemer, The Letters to the Seven Churches of Asia in Their Local Setting (Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1986). Steven Friesen, "The Cult of the Roman Emperors in Ephesos: Temple Wardens, City Titles, and the Interpretation of the Revelation of John," in Ephesos: Metropolis of Asia. An Interdisciplinary Approach to its Archaeology, Religion and Culture, ed. Helmut Koester (Valley Forge, PA: Trinity Press International, 1995), 229-250; Steven Friesen, "Ephesus - Key to a Vision in Revelation," BAR 19 no 3 (1993): 24-37; P. J. J. Botha, "God, Emperor Worship and Society: Contemporary Experience and the Book of Revelation," Neot 22 (1988): 87-102; Hans-Josef Klauck, "Das Sendschreiben nach Pergamon und der Kaiserkult in der Johannesoffenbarung," Bib 73 (1992): 153-82; J.

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works provide much significant and useful archaeological and cultural information, but do not use the information in dialogue with a focused literary analysis of the text of Revelation. Steven Friesen has recently called for more emphasis upon archaeological materials in the interpretation of Revelation, arguing in particular that material culture can provide a better appreciation of Greco-Roman religion and "the fabric of life in a polytheistic setting."79 Studying the temple language of Revelation in the light of a dialogue between literary and archaeological/social methods can lead to a better understanding of what the literary language about the temple in Revelation might have communicated to individuals who spent each day living in a material world of temples, incense bowls, altars, and sacred space.

(b) Cultural Perspective of Revelation One prominent trend in Revelation studies confines the document solely within Jewish thought and practice. The argument is that Revelation's symbols and imagery must be interpreted solely from the Old Testament alone80 or from the Old Testament and Jewish traditions.81 When carried to an extreme, Revelation is identified as a Jewish apocalypse, with a few scattered Christian additions and interpolations.82 A good example of this bias towards the Jewish context of Revelation comes from W. K. Hedrick who cites as a

79 80

81

82

Nelson Kraybill, Imperial Cult and Commerce in John's Apocalypse (Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1996); Leonard Thompson, The Book of Revelation: Apocalypse and Empire (New York: Oxford University Press, 1990), 95-167. Friesen, "Revelation, Realia, and Religion," 314. Austin Farrer, A Rebirth of Images: The Making of St. John's Apocalypse (Westminster: Dacre Press, 1949); Ibid., The Revelation of St. John the Divine (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1964). R. Dean Davis asserts that Revelation reflects the Old Testament and Hebrew faith rather than the world of Jewish apocalyptic, The Heavenly Court Judgment of Revelation 4-5 (Lanham, MD: University Press of America, 1992), 5-6. John Court primarily interprets the imagery of Revelation from a Jewish perspective and although acknowledges the possibility of limited "pagan" influence on chapter twelve, he downplays its significance indicating that the real concern is that it "can be understood in a Jewish or Christian way," John M. Court, Myth and History in the Book of Revelation (Atlanta: John Knox Press, 1979), 108-9. Court also makes the suggestion that because Revelation is so allusive, the best method for sorting through all the possible traditions is to select the "traditional context that is nearest temporally and geographically," 18. For Court, this is the Palestinian context, even though the context that is closest to Revelation both "temporally and geographically" is late first century western Asia Minor. For example, see J. Massyngberde Ford, Revelation, AB (Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 1975); Sarah Alexander Edwards, "Christological Perspectives in the Book of Revelation," in Christological Perspectives: Essays in Honor of Harvey K. McArthur, eds. Robert F. Berkey and Sarah A. Edwards (New York: Pilgrim Press, 1982), 139-146.

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governing principle of his work that "if everything in Rev. 12 can be explained on the basis of Jewish and Christian traditions, then there is no basis (italics mine) for an argument that he used any other tradition." It is only when a particular feature cannot be explained at all by Jewish or Christian traditions that one can consider viewing Revelation "as a part of the world of Hellenistic syncretism."83 This limiting of Revelation's source-pool to the Old Testament and Jewish tradition implies an understanding of the document as being written in a vacuum. John, writing in the vicinity of Asia Minor, addresses to seven Christian communities in Asia Minor a book completely isolated from any cultural or environmental influence. This common resistance to the idea that Jewish apocalypses in general, and Revelation in particular, drew from the larger Greco-Roman environment derives from the theological presupposition that anything non-Jewish is "false," "pagan," and "idolatrous." It is believed that proving the background for a particular concept or image as Palestinian makes it more theologically palatable than if its background were Hellenistic. Even in those instances where the recognition of Hellenistic influence within Christianity is unavoidable, the response is that it must have entered through Judaism first. At times this devaluation of anything non-Jewish or non-Christian extends to the language of Revelation itself. Steven Thompson argues for strong Semitic influence on the Greek of Revelation to the extent that it is merely a thin membrane "stretched tightly over a Semitic framework."84 He concludes that John was indebted to the Old Testament "not only for symbols and metaphors but for his very language."85 The theological import is that John deliberately wrote in this "Jewish Greek" to guard against the corruption of pagan culture. Thompson concludes: "Perhaps the necessity of expressing sacred themes in a Gentile tongue was rendered less distastefiil so long as it preserved the tenses and other essential syntactical features of the sacred language?"86 This theological bias against Hellenistic and ancient Near Eastern culture as a source for the imagery of Revelation must be avoided. The idea that "pagan" imagery and ideas lessens the theological worth of Revelation falters 83

84

85 86

W. K. Hedrick, "The Sources and Use of the Imagery in Apocalypse 12" (Th.D. Diss.: Graduate Theological Union, 1971), 14. Steven Thompson, The Apocalypse and Semitic Syntax (Cambridge: University Press, 1985), 108. Ibid., 106. Ibid., 108. Stanley Porter responds to Thompson's work by demonstrating that there is little basis for positing any form of Semitic Greek and that the language of Revelation falls within "the range of possible registers of Greek usage of the 1st century," Stanley E. Porter, "The Language of the Apocalypse in Recent Discussion," NTS 35 (1989): 582-603, esp. 603.

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in at least two respects. First, it fails to draw precise enough distinctions concerning ancient culture and John's attitude towards it. Objections to Hellenistic influence on Revelation have primarily been objections to the use of mythological ideas and abstractions and not material culture. In addition, those objections do not allow for John's creativity in reworking mythological materials, just as he does biblical allusions, in a way that multiplies associations, thus enriching "the communicative power of the language."87 Likewise, the idea that Revelation opposes Gentile culture in totality lacks precision. John clearly opposes idolatry, immorality, and the social and political structures of Hellenistic culture that encourage such behavior. This, however, is by no means equal to a rejection of Hellenistic culture itself. John, for instance, gives no indication of being opposed to the idea of a temple; what he opposes is the worship of any deity other than God. Consequently, there is no reason to assume that John could not draw upon imagery and ideas from the religious environment of Asia Minor that Gentile converts were familiar with and recast them in such a way as to make assertions about God that would communicate to Gentile Christians. Second, the refusal to recognize Hellenistic influence on apocalyptic literature, particularly Revelation, tends to confuse the identification of source with theological validity. John Collins makes this point admirably: we may note the widespread tendency to confuse the theological evaluation of apocalyptic literature with the historical identification of its sources. Frequently, scholars who have assumed extensive Persian influence have assumed that apocalypticism is therefore unbiblical and theologically suspect. . . This theological conclusion would not be warranted, even if the historical derivation were correct . . . Conversely, apologetic attempts to affirm continuity with OT prophecy or more broadly with indigenous Palestinian or Northwest Semitic traditions are misplaced. The theological importance of apocalypticism depends on the intrinsic value of its perspective, not on the origin of its imagery or the locale where it developed. 88

The recognition that the Old Testament and Jewish tradition is a primary source (even the main source) for the ideas and images in Revelation is valid; yet, this recognition should not lead to a neglect of other possible cultural and environmental influences. Apocalyptic literature, and Revelation is no excep-

87

88

John J. Collins makes this point with reference to apocalyptic literature in general, but it certainly applies to Revelation, The Apocalyptic Imagination: An Introduction to the Jewish Matrix of Christianity (New York: Crossroad, 1992), 16. Collins, "Apocalyptic Literature," 354.

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tion, combines allusions to a great variety of culturally diverse sources.89 An approach that limits the analysis of Revelation's imagery to traditional Jewish contexts lacks sensitivity to the complex cultural interaction of the imagery within Revelation and the setting of the document within the material context of Western Asia Minor. It unnecessarily assumes a monolithic culture for the churches in Asia Minor. Given the setting of Revelation, one cannot simply assume that the churches of Revelation were primarily Jewish. If one acknowledges the likelihood of a mixed cultural makeup of the churches, then one must at least entertain the possibility that the author of Revelation deliberately mixes and intertwines imagery and traditions drawn from both Greco-Roman and Jewish culture in such a way that the final product can communicate powerfully to both cultural groups. Hans Dieter Betz argues that Revelation cannot be properly understood on the basis of Jewish tradition alone, but must be read in the light of Hellenistic syncretism.90 Responding to Betz, Adela Yarbro Collins agrees with the assertion that analysis of the Hellenistic environment is vital to a proper understanding of Revelation, but that one must not go to the opposite extreme of relying on the Hellenistic context to the neglect of the Jewish. She states that "any treatment of the background of Revelation which limits itself either to Jewish or to Hellenistic tradition will be one-sided and misleading. The actual situation was characterized by a complex interaction of inherited tradition and environment."91 John draws upon traditions and imagery from both Jewish and Hellenistic culture, reworking them and fusing them together into a single Christian message that is thus capable of communicating cross-culturally. Unfortunately, acknowledgment of John's fusion of diverse cultural images and traditions has not been extended to his employment of cultic imagery.

89

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91

Ibid., 354. Beale states: "Though the OT, Judaism, NT, and immediate context of the Apocalypse provide the primary background for its imagery, much work remains to be done on surveying the various sources of the Greco-Roman world to broaden the multiple ideas associated with many of the images in the Apocalypse," G. K. Beale, The Book of Revelation: A Commentary on the Greek Text (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1999), 58. Hans Dieter Betz, "Zum Problem des religionsgeschichtlichen Verständnisses der Apokalyptik," ZThK 63 (1966): 409; see also David E. Aune, "The Influence of Roman Imperial Court Ceremonial on the Apocalypse of John" BR 28 (1983): 23. Adela Yarbro Collins, "The History-of-Religions Approach to Apocalypticism and the 'Angel of the Waters' (Rev. 16:4-7)," CBQ 39 (1977): 367-68.

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(c) Interpretations of the Temple Language in Revelation The neglect of temple symbolism in Revelation may be due in part to the general neglect of Revelation in New Testament study. Two major examinations of temple and cultic language in the New Testament virtually ignore the temple in Revelation.92 Even those studies that recognize the importance of cultic imagery and liturgical materials in Revelation tend to subordinate the significance of the temple as a symbol, addressing it only indirectly if at all.93 An exception is the work of Hans Wenschkewitz who briefly analyzes the Christian spiritualization of Jewish cultic practices in Revelation, i.e. the sacrificial Lamb, the temple, and the priesthood.94 Research that does focus on the temple symbolism in Revelation is symptomatic of the problems outlined in the previous two sections. These studies do not employ archaeological materials in their analyses and, without exception, they interpret all of the imagery solely from Jewish and ancient Near Eastern perspectives. What research has been done on the temple in Revelation falls roughly into three broad categories. The first comprises discussions of the temple in focused exegetical treatments or background investigations of specific passages or themes.95 Those 92

93

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95

Bertil Gärtner's study of the temple in Qumran and the New Testament does not contain even one whole paragraph devoted to the temple in Revelation. He cites nine texts from Revelation, seven of which occur only as brief footnote references and two that are mentioned briefly in the text as supporting evidence, Bertil Gärtner, The Temple and the Community in Qumran and the New Testament (Cambridge: University Press, 1965). Georg Klinzing's similar study is only slightly better in this regard. He likewise offers no discussion of the function of the temple in Revelation, opting instead for utilizing texts from Revelation as supporting material (primarily in footnotes), Georg Klinzing, Die Umdeutung des Kultus in der Qumrangemeinde und im NT (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1971). Lucetta Mowry, "Revelation 4-5 and Early Christian Liturgical Usage," JBL 71 (1952): 75-84; Pierre Prigent, Apocalypse et Liturgie (Neuchâtel: Delachaux and Niestlé, 1964); Massey H. Shepherd, Jr., The Paschal Liturgy and the Apocalypse (Richmond, VA: John Knox Press, 1960); Elisabeth Schüssler Fiorenza, "Cultic Language in Qumran and in the NT," CBQ 38 (1976): 175-76; Leonard Thompson, "Cult and Eschatology in the Apocalypse of John," JR 49 (1969): 330-350; Ibid., Book of Revelation, 53-73; Robert L. Thomas, "The Imprecatory Prayers of the Apocalypse," BibSac 126 (1969): 123-131. Hans Wenschkewitz, Die Spiritualisierung der Kultusbegriffe: Tempel, Priester und Opfer im Neuen Testament (Leipzig: Eduard Pfeiffer, 1932), 149-155, esp. 152-55. Fiorenza takes issue with the frequent usage by New Testament interpreters, including Wenschkewitz, of the term "spiritualization" in an anti-cultic sense. Instead, she opts for the term "transference" to indicate the shifting of cultic concepts to "designate a reality which was not cultic," "Cultic Language," 159-161. André Feuillet, "Essai d'lnterpretation du Chapitre XI de l'Apocalypse," NTS 4 (195758): 184-88, 198-99; Kenneth A. Strand, "An Overlooked Old-Testament Background to Revelation 11:1," A USS 22 ( 1984): 317-25 ; Richard H. Wilkinson, "The ΣΤΥΛΟΣ of Revelation 3:12 and Ancient Coronation Rites," JBL 107 (1988): 498-501; Michael Bachmann, "Himmlisch: Der 'Tempel Gottes' von Apk 11.1," NTS 40 (1994): 474-480; Dale C. Allison, "4Q 403 Fragm. I, Col. I, 38-46 and the Revelation to John," RevQ 12

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works that perform an extensive examination of temple texts, language or themes in Revelation do so strictly in a Jewish context. R. Dean Davis argues that the numerous allusions to the Hebrew cult of the Old Testament in Revelation 4-5 proves the identification of this scene as a temple/palace.96 James Valentine traces the use of four themes (community as temple, holy war, judgment, ethical response) in the Old Testament and Revelation.97 Robert Alan Briggs examines the influence of the Old Testament and pre-70 noncanonical Jewish literature on the temple language of Revelation.98 The second category contains those works that offer an ecclesiological interpretation of Revelation's temple language. Yves Congar argues that Revelation's temple language corresponds to the temple language of the rest of the New Testament in which the temple is the church.99 Likewise, Andrea Spatafora focuses on the concept of divine presence to argue that the church has taken over the function of the Jerusalem Temple.100 One frequent argument is that the New Jerusalem is both temple and church,101 so that God is

96

97

98

99

100

101

(1986): 409-414; Celia Deutsch, "Transformation of Symbols: The New Jerusalem in Rv 21:1-22:5," ZNW1% (1987): 113-115. Also to be included under this category is the study by Mary A. Doll on the temple as symbol in Exodus and Revelation. Rather than a functional analysis of the temple in Revelation, she reads the book as a JewishChristian, a-historical piece of poetry that is best understood when interpreted according to the methods of rabbinical mysticism, Mary A. Doll, "THE TEMPLE: Symbolic Form in Scripture," Sou 70 (1987): 150-53. Davis, 20-21, 118-147. Although Davis provides much helpful information and the identification of Revelation 4-5 as a temple/palace may be correct, he often asserts what he intends to prove, engages in "parallelomania," and draws unwarranted conclusions from insufficient evidence. As evidence of the latter, Davis asserts that the 144,000 gathered before the Lamb at Mt. Zion are a "cleansed temple," but he bases this on nothing more than that they are described as "chaste" (14:4) and "blameless" (14:5), designations that hardly demand a temple identification, 228. James Valentine, "Theological Aspects of the Temple Motif in the Old Testament and Revelation" (Ph.D. diss., Boston University, 1985). Like Davis, Valentine tends towards "parallelomania" and sometimes makes tenuous connections between the language of Revelation and temple motifs. For example, he connects the "key of David" in Rev. 3:7 with the keys to the temple; see 209. Robert Alan Briggs, "A Backgrounds Investigation of the Jewish Temple Imagery in the Book of Revelation" (Ph.D. diss., Southern Baptist Theological Seminary, 1996). Briggs concludes that pre-70 non-canonical literature had little influence on Revelation and that John restricts himself to the Old Testament, 337. Yves M. -J. Congar, The Mystery of the Temple or the Manner of God's Presence to His Creatures from Genesis to the Apocalypse, trans. Reginald F. Trevett (London: Burns & Oates, 1962), 206-7, 212-13, 218; see also Simon J. Kistemaker, "The Temple in the Apocalypse," JETS 43 (2000): 433-441. Andrea Spatafora, From the "Temple of God" to God As the Temple: A Biblical Theological Study of the Temple in the Book of Revelation (Roma: Editrice Pontificia Università Gregoriana, 1997), 9, 303-4. Congar, 215-16; R. J. McKelvey, The New Temple: The Church in the New Testament (London: Oxford University Press, 1969), 169, 172, 176; Deutsch, 113-15. Koester similarly argues that both New Jerusalem and the church are depicted with tabernacle language, Craig R. Koester, The Dwelling of God: The Tabernacle in the Old Testament,

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the Christians' temple and they are his temple.102 C. F. D. Moule seeks to place the temple language of the New Testament in the context of Christian apologetic. Suggesting that Jewish opponents were accusing Christians of having no cultic system of worship, Moule argues that Christians developed the standard response that the church itself is a spiritual temple made up of spiritual priests.103 The final category consists of readings of particular sections or even the entire text of Revelation in the light of certain Jewish festivals, particularly the Feast of Tabernacles.104 Some claim that the structure of Revelation is based upon one or more of these festivals.105 Most of these interpretations deal with the temple (if at all) only as it relates to these particular festivals.106 Two works that address the temple in more extensive fashion deserve special mention. An article by William Riley, which has been virtually ignored in studies on Revelation, discusses enthronement ceremonies of the ancient Near East, arguing that temples were the throne room of the deity and the seat of the deity's power on earth.107 He then attempts to connect these concepts to the Old Testament enthronement celebration that he considers to have been an aspect of certain festivals, particularly the Feast of Tabernacles.108 Riley's study is a valuable contribution to the understanding of the temple in Revelation, yet it could be strengthened by including ancient Near Eastern texts and material remains contemporary with Revelation and by addressing related concepts in Greco-Roman culture.

Intertestamental Jewish Literature, and the New Testament (Washington, D.C.: Catholic Biblical Association of America, 1989), 120-23, 127. 102 Congar, 230; McKelvey, 176. 103 Moule applies this argument to the text of Revelation at a few points in his discussion, C. F. D. Moule, "Sanctuary and Sacrifice in the Church of the New Testament," JTS ns 1 (1950): 29-41. 104 Hakan Ulfgard, Feast and Future: Revelation 7:9-17 and the Feast of Tabernacles (Lund: Almqvist & Wiksell International, 1989); J. A. Draper, "The Heavenly Feast of Tabernacles: Revelation 7:1-17,'" JSNT19 (1983): 133-47; McKelvey, 162-64. 105 Farrer, Rebirth of images; D. T. Niles, As Seeing the Invisible: A Study of the Book of Revelation (London: SCM Press, 1962), 106-115. 106 ulfgard, for example, addresses the temple only in limited fashion, 86-88. He does deal with some archaeological materials, but only for their depictions of objects related to the Feast of Tabernacles, 131-145. 107 William Riley, "Temple Imagery and the Book of Revelation: Ancient Near Eastern Temple Ideology and Cultic Resonances in the Apocalypse," PIBA 6 (1982): 81-102. 108 Riley acknowledges that the existence of such an annual enthronement ceremony in Israel is questioned; yet, he contends that the elements of enthronement theology would have been nonetheless present, 86.

The Temple and the Interpretation of Revelation

31

Jon Paulien undertakes a literary analysis of the Hebrew cult and temple in Revelation.109 Much of his analysis is structural, based both on seven introductory scenes and on a division of the document into two halves. Paulien finds that references to temple and cultic language tend to be clustered around seven introductory scenes (Rev. 1:9-20; 4:1-5:14; 8:2-6; 11:19; 15:5-8; 19:1-10; 21:1-8). Assuming that the author of Revelation and his audience shared a highly detailed knowledge of the Old Testament, Paulien argues that these seven introductory scenes are part of an intentional structuring of the book according to Jewish feasts and festivals. He finds structural parallels with the royal enthronement ceremony, Day of Atonement, Feast of Trumpets, daily sacrifices (tamid), Passover, Pentecost, and the Feast of Tabernacles.110 He argues particularly that the first half of Revelation is structured according to the daily sacrifices, enthronement ceremony, and the spring festivals, while the second half is based upon the annual sacrifices and fall festivals.111 Paulien's study suffers from the ubiquitous bias towards solely a Jewish context for the work. He has created such a detailed and intricate framework for the text on the basis of Jewish feasts, sacrifices, and festivals that Revelation would be wholly incomprehensible to virtually any Gentile Christian who dared try to make sense of the book. Paulien assumes that the ideal reader of Revelation was a Jewish Christian deeply steeped in the "texts and liturgical practices of the Hebrew cult" and this assumption leads him to the inevitable conclusion that either early Christian liturgy was tremendously influenced by the Hebrew cultus or Revelation targets "a rather limited number of historical readers, perhaps a specific subgroup of Jewish Christians."112 He acknowledges that any reader without this technical knowledge would have "great difficulty" understanding this book.113 Elsewhere Paulien asserts that since "all seven introductory scenes center around worship, the actions of priestly figures, and/or temple/sanctuary structures, their relationship to the Hebrew cultus is relatively explicit."114 Certainly, the Hebrew cultus is central to the book of Revelation, but this statement ignores the fact that worship, priestly figures, and temple/sanctuary structures were just as much a part of

109

110 111 112 113 114

Jon Paulien, "The Role of the Hebrew Cultus, Sanctuary, and Temple in the Plot and Structure of the Book of Revelation," AUSS 33 (1995): 245-264. Ibid., 251-260. Ibid., 262. Ibid., 263. Ibid., 263-64. Ibid., 254.

32

Revelation and the Temple: Introduction

the fabric of life of Greco-Roman culture in western Asia Minor, and would have held particular significance for Gentile readers. This survey of studies on the temple language in Revelation reveals the need for an analysis involving a dialogue between the literary text and relevant archaeological materials, as well as a sensitivity to the mixed cultural matrix of Revelation. Previous examinations have not been attuned to the sociological importance of the temple and temples for Jews and Gentiles, nor have many addressed the types of questions and issues that arise for those who are without a temple. A temple was a complex and multi-faceted institution and this complexity should not be downplayed in favor of concise and simplistic interpretations. Furthermore, there is the need for a systematic analysis that examines the meaning and function of this elusive symbol in the book of Revelation. This book addresses these issues by developing the thesis that a literary analysis in dialogue with an archaeological/sociological analysis of the symbol of temple (and associated imagery) in Revelation, in light of the meaning and function of temples in both Jewish and GrecoRoman cultures, reveals that temple symbolism in Revelation makes important theological assertions about access to God and Christian identity with respect to both God and the world.

1.4 Method and Plan This book affirms that placing the book of Revelation within its historical/cultural/social context relative to both the positive meanings and functions of temples and to negative experiences with temples leads to a more precise and substantive understanding of the meaning and function of temple symbolism within the text of Revelation. To demonstrate this, the argument proceeds in three stages: an analysis of temple realities in Greco-Roman and Jewish societies, an examination of temple symbolism within select Jewish apocalyptic documents, and an analysis of the text of Revelation. Chapter two takes up the meaning and function of temples in western Asia Minor and, to a lesser extent, Greece. I use the term "Greco-Roman" to identify a widespread cultural phenomenon permeating the geographical areas of Greece and western Asia Minor. When speaking of temples, however, I refer to Greek and Roman temples since there was no such thing as a "GrecoRoman temple." There were Greek temples and there were Roman temples. The Jerusalem Temple and Greek and Roman temples were such complex and, in the case of Greek and Roman temples, widespread phenomena that a

Method and Plan

33

comprehensive analysis of these institutions would require many books. The goals for this analysis, therefore, must be humble and focused. Essentially two goals drive this and the subsequent chapter. The first is the examination of specific practices and aspects of temples that are of the most help for illuminating temple language in Revelation. The second goal is the establishment of a broad conceptual framework within which to place temple realities, focusing upon more general meanings and functions of temples. It must be stressed that the purpose of this analysis is not to establish a form of social or literary causality in which the evidence cited here is identified specifically as the generative force of the language in Revelation. Rather, the goal is to establish the broader world of ideas and material images that formed the physical, literary, and social/political/cultural context of the book of Revelation in order to assert that the author of Revelation interacts with the world(s) of his readers in the production of his message. The primary source materials for an analysis of Greek and Roman temples are diverse: literary texts, inscriptions, architectural remains, sculpture, reliefs, vases, and coins. The diversity of the evidence is significant because it offers diverse information, witnesses to attitudes from different perspectives,115 and allows for the literary and material evidence to critique each other. As much as possible, the evidence will be limited temporally (first to early second century C.E.) and geographically (western Asia Minor).116 Nevertheless, when dealing with material evidence, one must be wary of constructing artificial boundaries. At times it will be necessary to go beyond both of these temporal and geographical boundaries. A temple built in the fifth century B.C.E., for instance, may still be standing and functioning in the first century C.E. Likewise, a monument or temple built in the second century C.E. can potentially shed valuable light on the continuity of religious traditions.117 Sometimes one must go beyond the self-imposed boundaries due to the nature of the evidence. In the case of human support figures (caryatids and atlantes/telamones), if one wants to explore the meaning of these figures for individuals in first century Asia Minor, a problem develops. Although evidence for the presence of these figures in first century western 115

116

117

Inscriptions, for instance, come from a wide social range and, therefore, "can provide an illuminating corrective to the aristocratic biases which permeate the literary sources," Horsley, "Inscriptions ofEphesos," 115. A first century C.E. temple inscription from Ephesus is a more relevant piece of information for understanding temple language in Revelation than a millennia-old Baal text from Iraq. Oster, Bibliography, xxii.

34

Revelation and the Temple: Introduction

Asia Minor exists, the remains are fragmentary and the exact contexts of their placement are often difficult to determine. However, by going back to Archaic Greece and the origin of these figures and then tracing their development in use and meaning in contexts that are much more certain, one can responsibly draw certain conclusions about the meaning of these figures for first century Asia Minor. The third chapter focuses upon the meaning of the temple for Jewish life in the first century C.E. The nature of the evidence shifts dramatically from that for Greek and Roman temples. The Jerusalem Temple has left little in the way of archaeological remains118 and no certain visual depictions of the temple have been found prior to the second century C.E.119 Consequently, with the exception of a handful of inscriptions and a few later coins, we are left primarily with Jewish texts as evidence. Although the evidence from the Old Testament will not be ignored, the focus of this analysis will be upon Jewish literature from the late intertestamental period and from the first century C.E. (eg. Josephus, Philo) in order to establish as much as possible the understanding of the temple and related Jewish traditions roughly contemporary with the book of Revelation. In comparing Jewish and Greek and Roman temple realities, it is vital not to minimize the significant structural and theological differences between Judaism and Greco-Roman religions. For the most part, Judaism had one temple,120 was antagonistic towards the polytheistic structure of GrecoRoman society, and, in diaspora settings, centered its communal worship around the synagogue. These fundamental differences between Judaism and Greco-Roman religions must be highlighted; yet, although different attitudes and practices existed, there was also extensive overlap with respect to the meanings and functions of their respective temples. The situation is best characterized as one of concentric circles with significant areas of both distinctiveness and overlap. In this analysis, both of those areas are of interest. Whereas chapters two and three address the positive construal of temples in Jewish and Greco-Roman societies, chapter four addresses the relationship between negative experiences with temples and temple symbolism. Temples in antiquity were more than just places for worship; they were significant 118

119

120

Recent excavations at the Temple Mount have focused on the tunnels under the Mount and the possible presence of a Herodian street. This is generally held to be true, although a pre-70 Jewish ossuary may depict part of the temple. Other temples and shrines did exist, most notably those at Elephantine, Leontopolis, Mt. Gerizim, and the Iron Age temple at Arad.

Method and Plan

35

forces in the structuring of one's view of the world and one's place in the world. As a result, a negative experience with a temple such as destruction, perceived corruption, or exclusion, involves more than just the loss of a place to worship and the severing of social ties. It involves the necessity of rethinking one's connection to the gods, one's place in the world, and, in some respects, the nature of the world itself. Chapter four examines literature with apocalyptic characteristics that employ temple symbolism in the light of some negative temple experience. The goal is the establishment of potential ways of construing temple symbolism for the purpose of creating a backdrop against which to read the language of Revelation. Again, it must be stressed that no claim is made that Revelation was written to respond directly to the loss of the temple or to the severing of ties with temple communities. Rather, an awareness of the Christians' social location as people without a temple adds a certain resonance to the temple language in Revelation. The final three chapters apply the evidence outlined in the previous chapters to an analysis of the text of Revelation. Revelation will be read as a literary unity, with the goal of discovering the literary function of temple language in the text as a whole. One common methodological pitfall in New Testament interpretation is the confusion of the quest for sources with the act of interpretation.121 Content with pointing out "parallels" to New Testament language and imagery, many studies wrongly assume that locating the possible origin of an image determines its meaning in a particular passage. The quest for sources should not be abandoned because the identification of parallel uses of language and forms of imagery can aid New Testament interpretation. Texts are not produced independent of a social, literary, and material world. In the case of Revelation, it is important to place the language about the temple within the larger context of the meanings and functions of temples in antiquity. Nevertheless, this does not become interpretation until the temple language of Revelation has been subjected to a systematic literary/exegetical analysis of the function of this language in Revelation. Such an analysis shows that the temple symbolism in Revelation provides a powerful organizing "place" for both Jewish and Gentile Christians in their respective and shared "diasporic" existence in order to address certain social and theological issues.

121

Collins, "Apocalyptic Literature," 353.

2. Significance of Temples in Greek and Roman Culture 2.1 Introduction Throughout the Hellenistic and early Roman imperial periods, temples permeated virtually every aspect of society in Greece and western Asia Minor. Their influence and presence were experienced by everyone from the highest noble to the lowest peasant. Temples occupied almost every conceivable location ~ the center of cities or spread throughout them, the highest point on an acropolis, outside the city walls, on mountain tops, or by rural villages, sacred groves, and springs. One cannot adequately understand the religious attitudes, social practices, economic concerns, and civic/political activities that characterize the cultures of Greece and western Asia Minor without coming to grips with the phenomenon of the temple.1 The pervasiveness of the Greek temple only highlights the paradox that the temple was not required for that which it would seem most pertinent ~ the performance of worship.2 The focus of Greek worship was the altar with its sacrifices and prayers. It is suggested that for the purpose of worship the temple was superfluous, offering at best "a magnificent background for the ritual, but no more."3 The altar was the indispensable element; a sanctuary without a temple was conceivable, but not one without an altar.4 Yet to acknowledge this paradox is to confront a more enticing question: if a temple was not necessary for the performance of worship, then why did temples

I seek to avoid the impression that there was a monolithic Greco-Roman society and, thus, a universal "temple phenomenon." I distinguish three general types of temples — Greek temples, Roman temples, and temples built by Rome in the east (especially imperial temples). This chapter focuses primarily on the temples of western Asia Minor, both Greek temples and those built by Rome. Walter Burkert, "The Meaning and Function of the Temple in Classical Greece," in Temple in Society, ed. Michael V. Fox (Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 1988), 27, 36. The situation was somewhat different for Roman temples since cultic activity was more incorporated into the fabric of Roman temples. Nevertheless, Orlin adds that the Roman temple was not fully essential for the performance of sacrifice, Eric M. Orlin, Temples, Religion and Politics in the Roman Republic (Leiden: Brill, 1997), 11. Burkert, 37. John Boardman, et al, The Art and Architecture of Ancient Greece (London: Thames and Hudson, 1967), 30-31.

38

Significance of Temples in Greek and Roman Culture

become such essential components of Greek culture so as to survive and flourish for centuries independent of political change and social evolution? Before addressing this question, some preliminary issues demand attention. The paradox that the temple was least necessary where it would seem most essential (in the act of worship) is in need of clarification. First, this paradox results from an outsider perspective. The modern historian looks back to a culture and religion of which he or she was not a part and deduces that if temples were not always present at sacrifices, then they were not necessary. What is not expressed in the paradox is the distinction between what is necessary and what is meaningful. Whereas the historian as outsider searches for the necessary components of a religion, the insider is more concerned with the meaningful components of the religion. That a temple was not necessary for the performance of ritual does not mean that a temple, when present, was not a meaningful part of that ritual for the worshippers involved. Second, this paradox results from a narrow definition of "temple" as identifying only the central shrine (cella or vaós). The Greeks and Romans used temple terminology with great fluidity, at times conceiving of the entire precinct, sanctuary, shrine, and altar as a unity. Also, during the late Hellenistic and early Roman Imperial periods, a shrine was almost as much of an essential component of a sanctuary as an altar. Consequently, one must keep in mind that the significance of a temple was often closely connected to that of the altar and sanctuary. Another foundational issue is that of terminology and identification; in other words, what is a "temple"? Numerous terms in both Greek and Latin could be employed for what we often subsume under the single term "temple." The most frequently used Greek terms are τέμενος, ιερόν, and vaos. The τέμενος was the land set aside for and dedicated to the deity. The Latin counterpart is the templum, which originally referred to a portion of the sky marked off for divination or for the taking of auspices, but came to identify a piece of land consecrated for that purpose in which a priest searched the sky for omens from the gods.5 Within a τέμενος stood the sacred building or shrine that normally housed the cult statue. This building is called in Greek ναός (Ionic - vips, Attic- νεώς) 6 and in Latin aedes (less frequently fanum). The Romans further distinguished between the building

John E. Stambaugh, The Ancient Roman City (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1988), 214; Orlin, 11, n.l. Cicero refers to a god whose templum encompasses "everything that you see," The Republic 6.14.15. (All translations of ancient authors are from the Loeb Classical Library unless otherwise noted). The term σηκός is rarely used to identify the Greek shrine; see Diodorus Siculus 26.7.1; 34/35.1.3.

Introduction

39

(aedes) and the interior of the building where the cult statue was kept (cella).1 The third common Greek term is ιερόν (Ionic - ίρόν), which refers to a holy place or sanctuary.8 It can refer to a sacred grove, a place of sacrifice, or an area equal to or within a sacred precinct (τέμενος) and within which sits a temple building (vaós). 9 At times these three terms were clearly distinguished, as in a third century B.C.E. inscription from Ephesus that records a priest who, acting in accordance with the "command of the god" (possibly Sarapis), "established . . . the sanctuary (tò ίερό[ν]) and built the temple (τον ναόν) and displayed the sacred precinct (το τέμενος . . . lepóv)."10 Likewise, Pausanias (second century C.E.), writes of a man banished to Scillus who there built for the Ephesian Artemis "a temple with a sanctuary and a sacred enclosure" (τέμενος τε καί ιερόν και ναόν).11 At other times these terms reveal great flexibility. The normal term for "sanctuary" (ιερόν) can also be used of the sacred precinct, the entire temple complex as a whole, or the actual temple building itself.12 Likewise, vaós can be a small shrine, a temple building, a cult room, or the larger sanctuary. Similar variation holds for the Latin terms as well.13 Another way of identifying a temple or sanctuary is to use an adjective derived from the deity's name, such as Artemisium. For the sake of precision, I distinguish between these terms when possible. I use "sacred precinct," "sanctuary," and "temple" to identify τέμενος, ιερόν, and ναός respectively (with the Latin counterparts following suit) when these terms are used with such specificity. When the specific referent for a term is unclear or when the entire temple complex is treated as a single entity, I use the term "temple" in a generic sense. When quoting the translation of others, I retain their terminology. The variation in temple terminology is surpassed by that of the temple structures themselves. Temples are found in any number of locations and take a variety of forms. Keeping that variety in mind, we can make a few comments on the general plan of the Greek temple in Hellenistic and Roman times. A Greek sanctuary or precinct was normally entered through a propylon or gate. Frequently surrounding the sanctuary was a portico or stoa 7 8 9 10 11 12 13

Vitruvius On Architecture 3.2.5; 4.5.1. A related term identifying a sacred enclosure or sanctuary is περίβολος. Gottlob Schrenk, "tò lepóv," in TDNT, 3.232. IvEph 4.1246. Pausanias Description of Greece 5.6.5. Diodorus Siculus 14.41.6; Schrenk, 3.232-33. Livy 10.37.15-16; 29.18.3-4. John E. Stambaugh, "The Functions of Roman Temples," in ANRfV, ed. Wolfgang Haase, 2.16.1 (Berlin: Walter de Gruyter, 1978), 557; Orlin, 11, n.l.

40

Significance of Temples in Greek and Roman Culture

that might contain sculpture, rooms or even shops. Within some sanctuaries, free-standing buildings called "treasuries" might be present, although by Hellenistic and Roman times the temple building itself often served that purpose. Before the temple usually stood the altar. One common orientation for temple and altar was towards the east so that the rising sun could illuminate the altar and cult statue,14 but virtually every possible orientation is attested and there is no standard for Roman temples. The Greek temple building typically follows either the Doric or Ionic orders (Roman temples are predominantly Corinthian). The typical plan of a Greek temple is that of a rectangular building surrounded by columns of either a peripteral (single colonnade) or dipteral (double colonnade) pattern. To enter the temple one first approaches the porch (πρόναο?), which may contain two side walls of the cella protruding out onto the porch. These are called antae and when two columns are placed between them, the columns are in antis. Passing through the porch, one enters through a door into the central shrine (cella or vaós) where the cult statue was kept. Some temples also include an inner shrine or secret room (το αδυτον, adytum)15 that is typically off-limits to all but a few, or a back porch (οπισθόδομος). 16 This basic plan was a fluid one and numerous structural variations appear, such as the open-air Temple of Apollo at Didyma, the anomalous tri-partite Erectheum at Athens or circular temples. The variety that one encounters with respect to location and structure is matched in function. In general, the temple was conceived of as a home for the god, but beyond that it could serve a variety of functions and cults. One must be cautious when making generalizations about temples, therefore, as virtually every "rule" has numerous exceptions. Speaking of circular temples, Vitruvius states: The styles of buildings vary to suit the needs of sacrifice. For temples (aedes) are not to be built to all the gods in the same styles. For the several gods by the variety of their worship give rise to different religious effects. 17

14

15

16

17

R. D. Martienssen, The Idea of Space in Greek Architecture With Special Reference to the Doric Temple and Its Setting (Johannesburg: Witwatersrand University Press, 1956), 106; Martin Robertson, "Greek Art and Religion," in Greek Religion and Society, eds. P. E. Easterling and J. V. Muir (Cambridge, Great Britain: Cambridge University Press, 1985), 159. The adytum in Greek and Roman temples is not a strict counterpart to the "Holy of Holies" in the Jerusalem Temple. The adytum typically did not house the cult statue and might even serve as a storeroom, Burkert, 35-36; see also Appian Civil Wars 2.12.86. Nevertheless, Diodorus Siculus uses the term (το αδυτον) for the Jerusalem "Holy of Holies," 34/35.1.3. For a general description of the basic Greek temple see Elisabeth Ayrton, The Doric Temple (New York: ClarksonN. Potter, Inc., 1961), 174. Vitruvius On Architecture 4.8.6.

Introduction

41

In contrast to the Greek temple, the traditional Roman temple building lacked a peristyle (surrounding colonnade), opting instead for columns in the front porch, and sat upon a high podium making the temple accessible from steps at one end only. The extent of Roman influence on Greek temple architecture in western Asia Minor is a complicated issue. Beneath the veneer of Roman culture arising from Roman political influence and building programs was a deep-rooted and persistent Greek tradition; yet, it was a tradition that battled with other cultural influences seeking to lay roots in the same soil. Thus during the first two centuries of the imperial period, temple architecture in western Asia Minor reflected a variety of competing cultural traditions ~ Greek, Roman, Oriental, and Egyptian.18 Matching the variety of terminology, locations and architectural styles for temples of Greece, Rome and western Asia Minor is a variety of functions and meanings. In addition to worship, the temple was an institution and symbol that could unify disparate people and a place that individuals, cities, and empires could use to express their self-identity and make sense of their relationship with both the gods and one another. To explore these questions of function and meaning, the discussion will focus geographically on western Asia Minor and temporally on the late Hellenistic and early Roman Imperial periods. Cities from western Asia Minor to be treated include Ephesus, Pergamum, Aphrodisias, Sardis, Smyrna, Priene, Tralles, and Magnesia on the Maeander. Both geographical and temporal boundaries will at times be exceeded because of the evidence and the questions asked. This broader context provides a resonance to more specific and localized attitudes and practices. One should not assume that standard practices in Athens of the fourth century B.C.E. mirror those in Ephesus of the first century C.E., but neither should one assume that attitudes and practices of first century Ephesus arose and operated in a vacuum. Setting a broader context allows us to see how certain ideas or practices persisted, ceased or evolved. It also enables us to recognize certain foundational ideas or patterns that remain consistent through differing expressions in distinct places and periods. 18

Pergamum and Ephesus are witness to an amalgam of architectural influences. In addition to their traditional Greek temples, the Temple of Trajan on the acropolis of Pergamum and the Temple of Serapis at Ephesus show clear Roman influence; yet, the Temple of Serapis at Pergamum is a red brick building showing Egyptian influence. The so-called Temple of Hadrian on Kuretes Street in Ephesus bears closer resemblance to Syrian rather than Greek or Roman architecture, Margaret Lyttelton, "The Design and Planning of Temples and Sanctuaries in Asia Minor in the Roman Imperial Period," in Roman Architecture in the Greek World, eds. Sarah Macready and F. H. Thompson (London: The Society of Antiquaries of London, 1987), 39-48. See also D. S. Robertson, Greek & Roman Architecture, 2d ed. (Cambridge, Great Britain: Cambridge University Press, 1964), 218.

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Significance of Temples in Greek and Roman Culture

We will allow the ancient Greeks and Romans to speak for themselves concerning the meaning of their temples. We will read their inscriptions, literary texts and gravestones. We will encounter the coins, vases, and pieces of sculpture once beheld by ancient eyes. We will walk amidst the silent ruins of temples that once were filled with activity, life and meaning. By doing so we will learn that a temple was an important symbol for a society's conception of itself and of its gods.

2.2 Temple as Embodiment of Divine Presence (a) Power and Presence The most common conception of the temple in antiquity was as an abode of the gods. For both Greeks and Romans, gods came down to dwell among humans. Being gracious hosts required the provision of homes befitting deity. Temples were first and foremost, then, the home of the deity in whose honor the temple was built. The centrality of this belief is evident from its penetration into the language about temples. Both Greeks and Romans felt free to use the same terminology for their temples that they used for their own homes (aedes, domus, οίκος). 19 One method of depicting the gods on Classical Greek vases was to show them in their temples.20 This does not preclude the belief that the gods also dwelt in heaven. Greek mythology could place them in Olympus or in individual temples.21 The lack of strict separation between heaven and temple allows the Roman Scipio to address Jupiter with, "O Father that inhabitest the Tarpeian temple, next after heaven thy chosen abode."22 Thus, one could equally lift hands towards heaven or towards the nearest temple to seek out the deity.23 As the home of the god or goddess, a temple was both a symbol of and locus for the power and presence of that deity.24 It was a place of access. In the temple was where one encountered the deity, where the separation between mortal and immortal, human and divine was paradoxically both the 19

20

21

22 23 24

Homer Iliad 6.87-89; Philostratus Epistles of Apollonius 65; Burkert, 30; Otto Michel, "οίκο?," in TDNT, 5.119. One example shows Athena standing inside her temple by an altar and holding over it a libation bowl (φιάλη), LIMC, 2.1, p. 966, no. 74. Homer Iliad 6.87-89; 8.442-43; Hymn to Demeter 28-29, 319; Hymn to Pythian Apollo 347-48. Silius Italicus Punica 10.432-33. Burkert, 38-39. Burkert, 132.

Temple as Embodiment of Divine Presence

43

most deeply felt and the most effectively overcome. Nowhere else but in a temple was one so keenly aware of one's own mortality and powerlessness, yet also so keenly aware of one's access to divine power. Greek and Roman literature contain many references to powerful, divine voices issuing forth from temples25 and the occurrence of omens in temples and sanctuaries,26 making clear the will of the deity. Since a temple embodied the power and presence of the deity, dire could be the consequences when that power was absent. When the Temple of Artemis at Ephesus was burned in the fourth century B.C.E., a story circulated that the temple burned because Artemis had vacated the temple that night in order to be present at the birth of Alexander the Great.27 A temple was a focal point for uniting two diverse realms of experience ~ the human and the divine, allowing the Greeks to localize the universal in a sacred, liminal type of space. To enter a temple was therefore to cross a boundary and run the risk of experiencing change. In Metamorphoses, Apuleius has Lucius entering the temple of Isis an ordinary man but coming out a priest of the goddess.28 A temple could also be used as a symbol for other types of transformation. In "Leucippe and Clitophon," written by Achilles Tatius in the second century C.E., Clitophon tries to get the virgin Leucippe to consummate their love, fearing it may be their last chance. Leucippe encourages Clitophon to wait because she had had a dream in which the goddess Artemis assured her she would remain a virgin until she and Clitophon married. Clitophon then remembers a dream of his own: On the previous night I had dreamed about a temple (νεών) of Aphrodite, and inside the temple was a statue of the goddess. When I approached to pray, the doors slammed shut. I was disappointed, but a woman appeared who looked just like the statue in the temple and said, 'You are not allowed to enter the temple (τοΰ νεώ) at this time; but if you wait a short while, I will not only open the doors for you but make you a high priest of the goddess of love.' 29

25

26 27 28 29

Livy 6.33.4-6; Herodotus 1.159. Lucian includes within the category of superstition (την δεισιδαιμονίαν) "voices heard from inner shrines" (εξ άδυτων), Lover of Lies 38. Dio Cassius Roman History 41.61.1-4; 42.26.1-4; 47.2.3; Diodorus Siculus 16.27.2. Cicero De Natura Deorum 2.27.69; Plutarch Alexander 3.5-7. Apuleius Metamorphoses 11.20-24; Knipe, 133. Achilles Tatius Leucippe and Clitophon 4.1.5-8. Translation is by John J. Winkler, "Achilles Tatius: Leucippe and Clitophon," in Collected Ancient Greek Novels, ed. Β. P. Reardon (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1989), 222. The italicized term is my own translation, since Winkler here inexplicably uses "sanctuary" at this point even though it is the same term translated "temple" previously and the reference to doors and the statue within makes it clear a temple building or vaós is in view.

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Significance of Temples in Greek and Roman Culture

In Clitophon's dream, the closing of the temple symbolizes his inability to consummate the relationship with Leucippe at the present time. Aphrodite assures Clitophon that if he waits until the marriage, she herself will facilitate the consummation of their love — symbolized by the opening of the temple doors and his initiation as a high priest of the goddess of love. The Temple of Aphrodite symbolizes the transition from non-consummation to consummation. The Romans also recognize the transformative potential of a temple. Pythagoras reportedly taught that "our souls experience a change when we enter a temple (templum) and behold the images of the gods face to face."30 Nevertheless, it was not a given that gods should live in man-made structures and not all accepted the premise of divine dwelling. Greek and Roman authors contrasted their cultural understanding of temples as homes for the gods with the Persians who believed that gods should not be confined within walls since the "whole universe is their temple (templum) and home (idomus)."31 Greek and Roman philosophers and satirists criticized anthropomorphism and the superstitious confining of gods within simple buildings.32 Writing in the first century C.E., the Roman Stoic philosopher Seneca opts for a more mystical conception of deity: We do not need to uplift our hands towards heaven, or to beg the keeper of a temple to let us approach his idol's ear, as if in this way our prayers were more likely to be heard. God is near you, he is with you, he is within you . . . a holy spirit indwells within us, one who marks our good and bad deeds, and is our guardian. 33

Such critiques are a reminder that attitudes towards ancient temples were complex. Philosophical and satirical criticism, however, indicates that belief in the power and presence of the gods residing in temples was common and deeply-held.

(b) Cult Statues and Thrones A temple was a house for the deity at the most concrete level because it housed the deity's cult statue (usually άγαλμα or ξόανον). 34 Although the 30 31 32 33 34

Seneca Epistles 94.42. Cicero Laws 2.10.26; see also Herodotus 1.131. Juvenal Satire 13.34-37; Lucian On Sacrifices 11. Seneca Epistles 41.1-3. Pausanias Description of Greece 2.2.8; Pseudo-Lucian Lucius 41; Greek Anthology 5.15; Apuleius Metamorphoses 11.24; J. N. Coldstream, "Greek Temples: Why and Where?" in Greek Religion and Society, ed. P. E. Easterling and J. V. Muir (Cambridge, Great Britain: Cambridge University Press, 1985), 68; Burkert, 31; Martiennsen, 62.

Temple as Embodiment of Divine Presence

45

Greeks and Romans did not totally equate statue and god, they did view the cult statue as a symbolic representation of the deity so that the presence of the cult statue indicated the presence of the deity. In this sense, access to the cult statue was consonant with access to the deity. The statues were, therefore, often talked about and treated as though they were the gods themselves.35 In his report of the siege of Tyre by Alexander, Diodorus Siculus (first century B.C.E.) indicates the blurred distinction between statue and deity: when someone claimed to have had a vision of Apollo saying he was going to leave the city, some citizens used golden cords to tie the statue of Apollo to its base in order to prevent "as they thought, the god from leaving the city."36 Popular superstition led to reports of statues moving or speaking of their own accord.37 It was this identification of statue and god that Lucían satirized when he said of the populace: they erect temples (ναούς), in order that the gods may not be houseless (όίοικοι) and hearthless, of course; and they fashion images (εικόνας) in their likeness, sending for a Praxiteles or a Polycleitus or a Phidias, who have caught sight of them somewhere . . . In spite of all, those who enter the temple think that what they behold is not now ivory from India nor gold mined in Thrace, but the very son of Cronus and Rhea, transported to earth by Phidias.38

As symbols of the gods, these cult statues offered a concrete element to the act of worship. They offered a tangible sense of access to the divine. They were usually placed within the cella or vaós and faced towards the entrance to the temple. In many instances, they were in full view of those standing outside the temple.39 Sacrifices, prayers, and vows performed at the altar outside the temple would take place under the watchful eye of the god or goddess looking on.40 The depiction of the cult statue visible within the temple became a common iconographie motif in Greek and Roman art. Classical Greek vases

35

36 37

38 39 40

Appian Civil Wars 2.20.148; Pseudo-Lucian Lucius 41; Cicero On Behalf of Scaurus 23.46; Laws 2.10.26-2.11.26. Livy reports the plundering of "the images of the gods, or rather the gods themselves," 38.43.4-5. Diodorus Siculus 17.41.7-8. Athenaeus Deipnosophists 198f; Plutarch Caius Marcius Coriolanus 37.3; Dio Cassius Roman History 41.61.3-4; Dionysius of Halicarnassus Roman Antiquities 8.56.2-3; 13.3.1-2. Lucían On Sacrifices 11. Cicero On Behalf of Scaurus 23.46; Pausanias Description of Greece 2.13.7. Vitruvius writes: "Let the altars look to the east and be always placed lower than the images which shall be in the temple; so that those who pray and sacrifice may look up to the divinity from various levels as becomes each man's god," On Architecture 4.9.1; see also 4.5.1.

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Significance of Temples in Greek and Roman Culture

show the cult statue within a temple.41 Coins minted by cities in western Asia Minor frequently adopt the motif. Examples of such coins are attested for Artemis at Ephesus,42 Aphrodite at Aphrodisias,43 Apollo at Miletus,44 Artemis Leucophryene at Magnesia on the Maeander,45 Nemeses at Smyrna,46 Kore at Sardis,47 and Artemis at Perge.48 The motif came to be employed for Roman emperors as well, with a depiction of either the cult statue or a bust of the emperor's head placed within the temple.49 Another visual conception of a deity's power is that of the enthroned god or goddess. Gods and goddesses appear enthroned in temples on Greek vases and coins.50 The close association of deity and throne led to the creation of cult statues of the gods and goddesses seated on their thrones.51 The most notable examples are Asclepius and Zeus. Although enthroned cult statues of Asclepius are known to have resided in other temples,52 the most famous is the one from the Temple of Asclepius at Epidaurus. Pausanias describes the god seated on a throne (έπί θρόνου), grasping a staff with a dog and a serpent by the throne.53 Numismatic evidence also suggests that a cult statue of 41

42

43

44 45 46 47 48 49

50

51

52 53

For an example of the cult statue of Apollo see LIMC, 2.1, p. 239, no. 428; 2.2, p. 216, no. 428. Andrew Burnett, Michel Amandry and Pere Pau Ripollès, Roman Provincial Coinage (London: British Museum Press, 1992), vol. 1, pt. 1, no. 2222; vol. 1, pt. 2, pi. 99; BMC, Ionia, 77-78, nos. 224-26, 229, 233-34, pl. 13, no. 7; William E. Metcalf, The Cistophoroi of Hadrian (New York: American Numismatic Society, 1980), 14-15, nos. 40-64, pis. 3-4. Burnett, nos. 2839-41, pl. 123; BMC, Caria, 29, no. 21; 37, no. 77; 40-41, nos. 95-96, 105; pis. 5, no. 11 and 7, no. 3. Metcalf, 27, nos. 104-5, pl. 7. Burnett, no. 2701, pl. 117; BMC, Ionia, 164, no. 52. Metcalf, 31, no. 115, pi. 8. Metcalf, 52, no. 194, pi. 13. BMCRE, 3.13, nos. 82-83, pl. 3, nos. 12-13. For examples from western Asia Minor of Augustus, Tiberius, Domitian, Nerva, and Trajan see Burnett, nos. 2355-57, 2362, 2364, 2369-70, 2372, 2469, 2511, 2518, pis. 104-5, 109-111; BMC, Ionia, 268, nos. 266-68, pl.28, no. 8; BMC, Phrygia, 307, nos. 181-82, 185, pl. 37, no. 6; BMC, Mysia, 137, no. 236; 142, no. 267, pi. 28, no. 11; BMCRE, 3.12, no. 79, pi. 3, no. 9. One common depiction of Hades on Greek vases is of the god enthroned in his underworld temple, LIMC, 1.2, p. 569, no. 81; 4.2, p. 219-221, nos. 126, 132, 134; 7.2, p. 265, no. 70. For examples see Pausanias Description of Greece 5.17.1; 7.5.9; Apuleius Metamorphoses 3.27; Athenaeus Deipnosophists 198f. Pausanias Description of Greece 2.30.1. Pausanias Description of Greece 2.27.2. Small, sculptered replicas of the statue have been found in addition to its depiction on coins. See Richard Caton, The Temples and Ritual of Asklepios at Epidauros and Athens, 2d ed. (London: C. J. Clay and Sons, 1900), 6-7. For a suggested restoration of this statue see p. 7, pi. 6; F. W. ImhoofBlumer and Percy Gardner, Ancient Coins Illustrating Lost Masterpieces of Greek Art: A Numismatic Commentary on Pausanias (Chicago: Argonaut, 1964), 43, pl. L, nos. 35.

Temple as Embodiment of Divine Presence

47

the enthroned Asclepius resided in at least one of the temples at Pergamum.54 As king of the gods, Zeus fittingly sat on a throne. Greek mythology can present Zeus sitting on a golden throne (χρύσειον έττί θρόνον) at a meeting of the gods on Mt. Olympus or enthroned in a temple,55 receiving the worship of mortals.56 Coins and gems show Zeus or the Roman Jupiter enthroned in his temple57 and cult statues often took the same form.58 Most famous is the colossal cult statue of Zeus made by Pheidias that stood in the Temple of Zeus at Olympia. Dating to the fifth or fourth century B.C.E., the gold and ivory statue has Zeus sitting on a throne with a wreath on his head, a scepter in the left hand and a winged figure in the right.59 Considered one of the Seven Wonders of the world, testimonies to its glory are not lacking.60 Dio Chrysostom (late first/early second century C.E.) says that if bulls caught a glimpse of the statue they would be so struck with awe that they would willingly offer themselves for sacrifice.61 At about forty feet in height, the statue would have filled up much of the cella.62 Strabo notes the massive size of the statue saying that if Zeus were to stand up, he would unroof the temple.63 The motif of Zeus enthroned in a temple was present at many cities of western Asia Minor, in particular Pergamum and Ephesus. Two numismatic motifs occur on coins from Pergamum indicating the presence of a cult statue 54

55 56 57

58

59

60

61 62 63

BMC, Mysia, 156, no. 327, pi. 32, no. 1; S. R. F. Price claims that the statue was in the Ionic temple on the theater terrace, Rituals and Power: The Roman Imperial Cult in Asia Minor (Cambridge, Great Britain: Cambridge University Press, 1984; repr. 1987), 15253. Homer Iliad 8.442-43. Homer Hymn to Demeter 28-29. Roman imperial coins show Jupiter enthroned in a temple holding a thunderbolt and scepter, C. Η. V. Sutherland and R. A. G. Carson, Roman Imperial Coinage, rev. ed. (London: Spink and Son, 1984), 1.207, no. 42; 213, no. 127; 269, no. 31. For a Roman imperial gem see LIMC, 3.2, p. 468, no. 164. See also T. L. Donaldson, Architectura Numismatica: Ancient Architecture on Greek and Roman Coins and Medals (Chicago: Argonaut, 1965), 35-36, no. 8. Pausanias Description of Greece 7.20.3. Herodotus tells of a temple in Babylon with a golden image of Zeus sitting on a golden throne with a golden footstool and table, while outside of the temple is a golden altar, 1.18.3. For a description of the statue and a reconstruction see Pausanias Description of Greece 5.11.1-4; Helmut Berve and Gottfried Gruben, Tempel und Heiligtümer der Griechen (München: Hirmer, 1978), 91, flg. 38. Polybius refers to a man who was awestruck at the sight of the statue, Histories 30.10.6; Pausanias Description of Greece 5.11.9 Such was the fame of this statue that Lucian expects his audience to be aware of it, On Sacrifices 11. Dio Chrysostom Discourses 12.50-51. Coldstream, 78, 81. Strabo Geography 8.3.30. Like the Asclepius at Epidaurus, the Olympian Zeus has not been preserved and is known to us through literary testimony and numismatic representation. Imhoof-Blumer discusses coins from the reigns of Hadrian and Caracalla that depict this statue, 71, pi. P, no. 20-21 and 79, pl. Q, no. 17.

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Significance of Temples in Greek and Roman Culture

in the form of the enthroned Zeus in the Temple of Zeus Philios and Trajan on the acropolis.64 Similar numismatic testimony occurs at Ephesus in the reigns of Domitian and Hadrian.65 In addition to cult statues of Zeus, the concept of enthroned deity was present in other forms at Ephesus. A wall painting found near the Temple of the Sebastoi (formerly called "Temple of Domitian") shows Demeter seated on a throne.66 It has also been suggested that the colossal cult statue of the emperor that was housed in the Temple of the Sebastoi may have been seated.67

(c) Purity and Access By locating their gods among themselves, the Greeks took upon themselves the responsibility for maintaining good relations with the divine. Access must not diminish the sacredness of the god's home. Consequently, boundaries afforded multiple layers of protection, providing access in a controlled fashion. Access becomes progressively more restricted as one 64

65

66

67

One motif has the head of Trajan on the obverse and a seated Zeus Philios holding scepter and bowl on the reverse, BMC, Mysia, 141, no. 259. A second motif shows a head of Trajan on the obverse, while on the reverse depicting a four-columned temple within which Zeus Philios sits on a throne holding a scepter and bowl, while Trajan stands next to him in military dress and holding a spear, BMC, Mysia, 142, nos. 262-66, pl. 28, no. 10. Depicted on the coins is a seated Zeus holding a statue of the Ephesian Artemis in his outstretched hand, Metcalf, 16-17, nos. 72a-75, pi. 5. This same motif occurs on Hadrianic coins from Smyrna, Metcalf, 31, nos. 116-17, pl. 8. Metcalf argues that the Zeus figure represents Hadrian, who took the title "Zeus Olympios," and attests his benefactions towards the city of Ephesus and the cult of Artemis, Metcalf, 23. One problem with this identification is the occurrence of the same motif on pre-Hadrianic Ephesian coins datable to the reign of Domitian, BMC, Ionia, 75, no. 215. C. P. Jones sees this image as a representation of an actual cult statue of Zeus at Ephesus, one that is modelled after the famous statue of Pheidias (which likewise held a figure in its hand). Noting that the "cult of Zeus is of great antiquity at Ephesus," Jones argues that a Temple of Zeus existed there prior to the end of the first century C.E. and that, therefore, the Temple of Zeus and the Temple of Hadrian cannot have been identical as is sometimes thought. The statue depicted on coins is thus the cult statue of this temple. See C. P. Jones, "The Olympieion and the Hadrianeion at Ephesos," JHS 113 (1993): 150. Most likely these coins do represent a pre-existing cult statue at Ephesus, but one that later came to be associated (though not necessarily assimilated) with the emperor Hadrian in his role as "Zeus Olympios." Perhaps also representing this cult statue are small statuettes found in Ephesus representing Zeus on a throne; see A. H. Smith, A Catalogue of Sculpture in the Department of Greek and Roman Antiquities, British Museum (London: Trustees of the British Museum, 1900), 2.191, no. 1263; Maria Aurenhammer, "Sculptures of Gods and Heroes from Ephesos," in Koester, Ephesos, 264. Richard E. Oster, "Ephesus as a Religious Center Under the Principate, I: Paganism Before Constantine," in ANRW, 2.18.3, pi. 5, no. 7. Cornelius C. Vermeule states: "From the turn of the head, as well as general size, it seems likely that the ruler was seated," Roman Imperial Art in Greece and Asia Minor (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1968), 18.

Temple as Embodiment of Divine Presence

49

moves through the propylon into the sanctuary, then to the temple doorway, the temple and finally into the inner shrine (adyton). The question of who could gain access to a Greek temple, and thus access to the deity, had many different answers. Some temples had few restrictions, while others allowed no one to enter. In various temples, political meetings could be held, worshippers could approach the statue to pray, or sightseers could enter to marvel at the cult statue and votive offerings. Restrictions on access were concerned with maintaining purity, a theme given symbolic representation in the temple keys.68 Locking the doors of the temple was partly a safeguard for the great treasures kept inside, but also a guard against corruption of the holy place. Frequently, the responsibility for opening and closing the temples was held by certain female sacred officials called "key-bearers" (κλειδούχο? or κλειδοφόρος), although at Pergamum the keys for the Temple of Asclepius were likely held by a male templewarden (τον νεωκόροι;).69 Because they were often kept closed, the opening of a temple was a significant and value-laden event. To open a temple was to provide a measure of access to the divine. Variety is the rule when discussing restrictions on access to Greek temples.70 In general, any form of impiety, impurity or sin was not allowed.71 For a death to occur within the temple or sanctuary was pollution.72 Even certain foods were barred from some temples: Athenaeus refers to a temple from which garlic eaters were barred.73 For at least one temple in Megalopolis, no one was allowed to enter at any time.74 Others were restricted to select groups of priests or priestesses or to those on some form of official business.75 In certain locations, priests alone were allowed into the innermost chamber (αδυτον), indicating that others had access to the rest of the temple.76 68

69 70

71

72 73 74 75 76

Burkert, 35. Temple keys occur as iconographie symbols on Greek vases and coins, LIMC, 2.2, p. 263, no. 890; BMC, Mysia 122, no. 84, pi. 25, no.12. Aelius Aristides Sacred Tales: 110. For discussions of the subject see P. E. Corbett, "Greek Temples and Greek Worshippers: The Literary and Archaeological Evidence," BICS 17 (1970): 149-158; Joseph William Hewitt, "The Major Restrictions on Access to Greek Temples," TAPA 40(1909): 83-91. Diogenes Laertius Lives of Eminent Philosophers 6.64; Demosthenes Against Androtion 73; Against Neaera 85-87; Philostratus Life of Apollonius ofTyana 1.10-11; Andocides On the Mysteries 71; Herodotus 1.144; Lysias Against Andocides 15-16. Plutarch Demosthenes 29.4-7; Thucydides 1.134.1-3. Athenaeus Deipnosophists 10.422d. Pausanias Description of Greece 8.38.6. Pausanias Description of Greece 2.13.7; 6.25.2; Demosthenes Against Meidias 74. This was the case for at least one temple at Pergamum, Caesar Civil Wars 3.105. See also Burkert, 35-36; Corbett, 152.

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Significance of Temples in Greek and Roman Culture

Access could also be restricted on the basis of gender. In some cases, men only were allowed to enter;77 in others, women only.78 Achilles Tatius says that access to the Temple (ό ν ε ώ ς ) of Artemis at Ephesus was confined to men and virgin women.79 Other restrictions were due to ethnic status,80 sometimes based on legends involving those groups in which exclusion appears more as punishment than prejudice. Pausanias, for instance, tells about a cult statue of Heracles floating on a raft that stopped off the shores of Erythrae and Chios. Both cities tried to obtain the image for themselves, but only Thracian women volunteered to cut off their hair to make a rope for dragging the raft to shore. Consequently, only Thracian women were allowed within the sanctuary of Heracles.81 Plutarch records a legend about an adulterous affair of an Aitolian slave-girl that resulted in a sacred official standing before a temple of Leukothea at Chaironeia with a whip proclaiming, "Let no slave, male nor female, enter, neither any Aitolian, man or woman."82 Temple access could also be restricted to certain times. Some temples were opened on only one day a year or on particular days during the year.83 Others were open virtually every day. The restricting of access to Greek temples to certain groups or times implies that individuals could gain access if they belonged to the right groups or came at the right times.84 Pausanias happens to arrive at one temple on the one day out of the year when it is open and is allowed in to see the cult statue; at another temple he arrives on the wrong day and is barred access.85 In many instances, even those refused entrance into the temple could view the cult statue from outside. The understanding of Greek temples as dark and gloomy with little room to accommodate worshippers needs amendment. Many appear to have been adequately illuminated with interior designs made for the appreciation and accommodation of groups of people.86 Corbett argues that

77 78 79 80

81 82

83

84 85 86

Strabo Geography 14.6.3. Pausanias Description of Greece 2.10.4-5; 3.20.3. Achilles Tatius Leucippe and Clitophon 7.13.2-4. Dorians in particular were excluded from some Greek temples, Herodotus 1.144; 5.72; Corbett, 151. Pausanias Description of Greece 7.5.5-9. Plutarch Roman Questions 16, in H. J. Rose, The Roman Questions of Plutarch (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1924), 126. Pausanias Description of Greece 6.25.2; 9.16.6; 9.25.3;10.35.7; Demosthenes Against Neaera 76-77. Corbett, 150. Pausanias Description of Greece 9.25.3; 10.35.7. Robert L. Scranton, "Interior Design of Greek Temples," AJA 50 (1946): 39-51; Corbett, 152-54.

Temple as Embodiment of Divine Presence

51

we must reject the "universal rule" that "entry by ordinary people into the celias of temples was exceptional."87 Temple inscriptions from western Asia Minor offer an important glimpse into purity regulations and access to temples. The Temple of Athena at Pergamum lays out purity regulations for those desiring entrance, including abstinence from sexual intercourse for one to two days and from contact with the dead. Women who have just given birth must wait a prescribed period. Those who have just come from a funeral, however, can wash themselves with water kept at the door and enter the temple that day.88 The cult of Dionysus at Smyrna shows similar concern with "pollution" (μίασμα); it records waiting periods for those involved with births or deaths before they can enter the τέμενος and ναούς of Dionysus.89 Purity may be defined morally. A first century inscription from Rhodes states that "who enters within the temple (ναοιο) fragrant with incense, must be holy; pure not through washing, but in mind (νόω καθαρόν)."90 A Sardis inscription orders the temple-warden servants (νεωκόροι? θεραπευταΐς) of Zeus who enter into the innermost shrine (το αδυτον) where the god is kept "not to participate in the mysteries of Sabazios . . . Agdistis and Ma."91 When this text was re-inscribed in the late first century C.E., the continued desire to maintain the purity of the Zeus cult led to the addition of one line at the end: "They instruct Dorâtes the temple-warden (τω νεωκόρω) to keep away from these mysteries." Apparently, Dorâtes had violated the earlier injunction, thus necessitating the new edition of the decree.92

87 88 89

90 91

92

Corbett, 154. AvP 8,2.255, LL. 1-9. IvSmyrna 2.1, no. 728. For other inscriptions of Greece and Asia Minor describing purity regulations for childbirth, abortions, hairstyles and headcoverings, etc. see A. L. Connoly, "Standing on Sacred Ground," in New Documents, 4.25, pp. 108-111. Connoly, New Documents, 4.25, p. 111. The inscription, which is from the late first/early second century C.E., is actually a Greek translation and copy of an earlier decree from about 365 B.C.E. The impetus for this restriction is probably the desire to maintain the purity of the Zeus cult since only those with access to the most sacred area of the temple are restricted. That this cult continued to guard against contamination is clear in that it found it necessary to translate and re-inscribe the text nearly five hundred years later in about the late first century C.E. A different inscription from Sardis dating to about 100 B.C.E. also refers to "the servants of Zeus among those who enter into the inner shrine" (οί του Alôç θεραπευταί των e l [ s ] το αδυτον είσττορευομένων), Sardis 7.1, no. 22. For text, translation and discussion see New Documents, 1.3, pp. 21-23.

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Significance of Temples in Greek and Roman Culture

(d) Epiphanies Cities of western Asia Minor advertised the "appearances" of their deities by ascribing to them the epithet "most manifest" (έπιφανεστάτη). 93 Pliny records an epiphany occurring at the building of the Temple of Artemis at Ephesus. The architect Chersiphron could not get the lintel to set right over the door. The goddess appeared to him in a dream encouraging him that she herself had laid the stone, and the next morning Chersiphron found that the stone had set properly into place.94 Aristides tells of a dream by Philadelphus in which white-clad worshippers gather before the god's statue in the theater at the temple complex of Asclepius at Pergamum, there is the singing of hymns, and "the presence and certain wonderful powers of the god" are revealed.95 Likewise, Clitophon's dream-encounter with Aphrodite occurs at a temple.96 Divine epiphanies could also be the catalyst for the building of new temples or a cult's spread. This was the case with the Ephesian Artemis. A mid-second century C.E. inscription from Ephesus states of Artemis that "everywhere her shrines (lepa) and sanctuaries (τεμένη) have been established, and temples (ναούς) have been founded for her and altars dedicated to her because of the visible manifestations (επιφανείας) effected by her."97 At Pergamum, a temple was founded in response to a dream (κατ' οναρ).98 The cult statue could itself function as a form of epiphany. As a representation of the god or goddess, the cult statue symbolized the presence of the deity. As Lucius waits for the morning opening of the Temple of Isis, the curtains are finally drawn apart and he beholds the "vision of the goddess."99 The function of cult statues as epiphanic symbols partially explains their frequent appearance on coins of western Asia Minor.100 93

94 95

96 97

98

99 100

The title, for instance, is applied to Aphrodite of Aphrodisias, Artemis of Ephesus, and Asclepius of Pergamum; see CIG 2811; IvEph la.27, LL. 338f, 384f; AvP 8,3.101. Pliny Natural History 36.95-97. Aristides has a similar dream and compares the gathering of worshippers dressed in white to the typical crowd for a purification ceremony, Aelius Aristides Sacred Tales: II 31-35. Unless otherwise specified, all translations of Aristides are from Charles A. Behr, P. Aelius Aristides: The Complete Works, 2 vols. (Leiden: Brill, 1981, 1986). Achilles Tatius Leucippe and Clitophon 4.1.5-8. IvEph la.24B, LL. 12-14. For the translation see R. Oster, "Holy Days in Honour of Artemis," in New Documents, 4.19, pp.75-76. AvP 8,2.295. For other examples of temples as the result of epiphanies see Plutarch Themistocles 30.3; W. H. Buckler and David M. Robinson, "Greek Inscriptions From Sardes IV," AJA 18 (1914): no. 9, pp.39-40. Apuleius Metamorphoses 11.20. One interpretation is that the appearance of the cult statue within the temple was primarily a means of identifying the specific temple depicted on the coin. In many instances, however, such coins clearly identify the temple by an inscription on the

Temple as Embodiment of Divine Presence

53

Ancient coins had a cultic connotation. The "appearance" of the cult statue within the temple, as with the morning opening of the doors, carried connotations of divine manifestation. The depiction of this very image on coins — the cult statue visible within the temple ~ suggests the motif of an epiphany in the sense that it attests to the divine presence, or symbol of the divine presence, in the temple. Temple doorways function as both barriers (when closed) and points of transition (when open). Although they are normally not depicted on these coins, the "openness" of the temple doors is implied in the fact that the cult statue is visible within the temple. These coins depict an open line of access down the central axial line of the temple. In short, we have a visual symbolization of divine access. The motif of the "god in the doorway" was a means of representing epiphanies in Asia Minor, Mesopotamia, and Egypt.101 Related to this concept is another numismatic motif found on Ephesian coins. Numerous Roman Imperial coins represent the late Classical Temple of Artemis with one to three openings in the pediment.102 Coins depicting the second century B.C.E. Temple of Artemis Leukophryene at nearby Magnesia on the Maeander show one to three openings in the pediment of that temple and the architectural remains indicate that such openings were present and likely closed by wooden shutters.103 Other temples of Asia Minor may also have contained pedimental openings, including the Temple of Serapis at Ephesus and the Temple of Rome and Augustus at Mylasa.104

101

102

103 104

entablature of the temple or on the outer perimeter of the coin, as examples from Perge, Pergamum and Ephesus attest; see Metcalf, 14-15, nos. 40-64, pis. 3-4; BMCRE 3.13, no. 83, pi. 3, no. 13. For similar examples relating to the Temple of Rome and Augustus at Pergamum see BMCRE 3.12, no. 79, pi. 3, no. 9. On coins with such inscriptions, the addition of the cult statue as a means of identification is superfluous. Trell argues that the use of this motif on coins of western Asia Minor derives from a ritual in which "the Great Mother Goddess or a similar deity 'emerges' from within her sacred domain in order that her worshippers may 'behold' her, a manifest epiphany," Bluma L. Trell, "The Cult-Image on Temple-Type Coins," NumChr 7th series, 4 (1964): 241-42. Metcalf, 14-15, nos. 40-46, 50, 53-58, pl. 3-4; Bluma L. Trell, The Temple of Artemis at Ephesos, ANSNNM, no. 107 (New York: American Numismatic Society, 1945), pis. 13. One must be cautious of using numismatic evidence to reconstruct ancient temples for which few or no remains are left because the limited space on coins necessitates a degree of fluidity in representation. Also, coins were not designed to provide detailed architectural information, but for the communication of ideas. On these notes of caution see Thomas Drew-Bear, "Representations of Temples on the Greek Imperial Coinage," ANSMN 19 (1974): 27-63. Coins, however, can be valuable sources for reconstructing ancient temples when used with caution and in conjunction with corroborating evidence. Pliny, for instance, refers to a staircase leading to the roof of the Artemis temple, perhaps to these openings, Pliny Natural History 14.9. Trell, Temple of Artemis, 12-14, pi. 15. Reconstructions of these temples typically depict them with pedimental openings, Martin Schede, "Archäologische Funde von Mitte 1929 bis Oktober 1930," AAnz

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Significance of Temples in Greek and Roman Culture

Utilitarian explanations do not fully account for the placement of these openings on what is often the most cultically conscious exterior portion of the temple, nor why they are represented on the coins, which indicate they had significance for ancient audiences.105 They have been identified as ritual "doors" or "windows" that function as "the locus of an epiphany of the divinity."106 Evidence for this occurs on some Ephesian coins depicting a female figure standing in the central doorway, probably either Artemis herself or her priestess appearing as a surrogate of Artemis.107 Price and Trell write: "We can now visualize the people assembled before the temple waiting for an epiphany of the goddess or a symbol of her divinity in the windows."108 On the basis of Hadrianic coins depicting sculptered figures (some with upraised arms) flanking the "doors" on the Ephesian Temple of Artemis, Picard argues that the "doors" symbolically represent the entrance-way into the sanctuary or temple (the propylaea) and that the figures represent the ancient Amazons who sought refuge and asylum at the temple.109 Both Trell's and Picard's explanations hit a similar note — that these "doors" were places of epiphany. Oster even suggests that these openings represent "a visual equivalent of the verbal expression 'door of heaven.'"110 Their appearance on the coinage of Ephesus represents a symbolic expression of a deeply-held belief that the goddess is accessible and comes to the aid of her people.

105

106

107

108 109

110

(1930): 451-52, fig. 8; Trell, Temple of Artemis, pis. 16, 28; Price, Rituals and Power, 167, fig. 10. Such explanations include relieving the weight of the pediment and providing ventilation and/or access to the pediment; see Ekrem Akurgal, Ancient Civilizations and Ruins of Turkey, trans. John Whybrow and Mollie Emrel, 7th ed. (Istanbul: NET Turistik Yayinlar, 1990), 153; W. R. Lethaby, "Further Notes on the Sculpture of the Later Temple of Artemis at Ephesus," JHS 34 (1914): 87; Bluma L. Trell, "A Further Study in Architectura Numismatica," in Essays in Memory of Karl Lehmann, ed. Lucy Freeman Sandler (New York: Institute of Fine Arts, New York University, 1964), 349. Trell, "Architectura Numismatica," 346; Temple of Artemis, 21; Martin Jessop Price and Bluma L. Trell, Coins and Their Cities: Architecture on the Ancient Coins of Greece, Rome, and Palestine (Detroit: Wayne State University Press, 1977), 130. Price and Trell, 129, fig. 129-130; Trell, "Architectura Numismatica," 347, fig. 4; Oster, "Numismatic Windows," 217. Trell adds that an opening in the pediment of the Temple of Hadrian at Cyzicus may have been used to display a bust of the deified emperor,"Architectura Numismatica," 349, fig. 18. Price and Trell, 131. Ch. Picard, "Percées Tympanales ou Niches de Fronton?" RA (1949): 35-39. For a reference to the Amazons seeking asylum at the Temple of Artemis see Pausanias Description of Greece 7.2.7. For the coins see Price and Trell,128, fig. 224; see also Trell, Temple of Artemis, 10, pl. 1, nos. 2-3. Oster, "Numismatic Windows," 217.

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2.3 Temple as Unifying Force The temple was more than the house of the deity. Temples were normally not private institutions, but a common possession (κοινόν) of the community and, as such, were appropriate vehicles for conceptualizing the relationship between community and deity. As common possessions, however, they also were a force that could unite those who held them in common. 111 In the Greek city-state, temples were the joint-possession of the people and capable of uniting them around that central symbol. Although the particulars vary, the idea of joint-possession continued into the Roman imperial period. Individual temples could belong to entire provinces and to the empire itself. Common possession encouraged a sense of kinship and solidarity. Theophrastus' will left some property to his friends for them to use in common "so that they hold it like a temple (ιερόν) in joint possession (κοινή) and live, as is right and proper, on terms of familiarity and friendship." 112 Greek and Roman temples and sanctuaries were a unifying force because they functioned on multiple levels and within varied contexts. Marinatos writes that Greek sanctuaries were "multidimensional institutions which served the needs of their communities and the needs of the Greek city-state as a whole. The social particularities created a symbiotic relationship between religion and state."113 What Oster calls the "covenant bond" between temple and city is the focus of this section.114

(a) Temple and Religion Although not the only place where ritual activity was performed (e.g. domestic worship and various public sacrifices), the sanctuary was the primary locus for the worship of the gods because it was a place for communication with the divine. The altar was the main focus of ritual activity. It was the scene of prayers, sacrifices and libations poured over the

111

112 113

114

Lanci uses "centering image" to describe essentially the same phenomenon, John Rock Lanci, "Building a Temple of God: Paul's Metaphor of the Community as a Temple in its Roman Corinthian Context" (Ph.D. diss., Harvard University, 1993), xiv. Diogenes Laertius Lives of Eminent Philosophers 5.53. Nanno Marinatos, "What Were Greek Sanctuaries? A Synthesis," in Greek Sanctuaries: New Approaches, eds. Nanno Marinatos and Robin Hägg (London: Routledge, 1993), 233. Oster, "Ephesus as a Religious Center," 1700.

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altar from libation bowls (φιάλας), often made of gold.115 Music and singing were also important parts of worship in the sanctuaries of Asia Minor. Hymns were sung to Asclepius in the temple at Pergamum and to Artemis Leukophryene at Magnesia on the Maeander.116 An Ephesian inscription summarizing an older sacred law refers to the singing of hymns "at the sacrifices and in the processions and at the festivals."117 Choral singers or hymnodoi (υμνωδοί) were sacred officials who served in the cults of select deities as well as in the imperial cult. At Ephesus we find hymnodoi of Artemis and of Hadrian.118 Smyrna had a college of twenty-four hymnodoi for the divine Hadrian,119 while Pergamum possessed them for the provincial cult of Augustus and Roma.120 Other sacred officials at Ephesus and Sardis include harp, flute and trumpet players.121 Numerous other sacred officials oversaw and performed various aspects of temple administration and worship.122 Two of these officials require special attention: the "temple-warden" (νεωκόρος) and the "templeadministrator" (veooTToios). The precise distinction between the offices is not clear. Although neokoros became an important city-title by the late first century C.E., it originally identified a cult official. The term νεωκόρος is thought to derive from vaós and κορέω, hence literally "temple-sweeper."123 We know of two neokoroi for the Temple of Ascepius at Pergamum124 in addition to others for the temples of Athena125 and Roma and Augustus.126

115

116

117

118 119

120

121

122

123

124 125 126

Apuleius Metamorphoses 11.20; Athenaeus Deipnosophists 5.189f; 11.482b, 496e, 502a, 783a; Herodotus 2.151; Lucían Alexander the False Prophet 13; Propertius Elegies 3.17.37-42. Scenes of sacrifices and libations performed before temples appear on Greek and Roman iconography, LIMC, 2.2, p. 236, nos. 653-54; Laura Breglia, Roman Imperial Coins: Their Art & Technique (London: Thames and Hudson, 1968), 110-111. Pausanias Description of Greece 3.26.10; F. C. Grant, Hellenistic Religions: The Age of Syncretism (New York: Bobbs-Merrill, 1953), 19. The summary was inscribed at the end of the second or beginning of the third century C.E., IvEph la.10, LL. 12-14. IvEph la.27, LL.146, 262ff; 34; 3.645, 742, 921. IvSmyrna 2.594. The college of hymnodoi of Hadrian continued at Smyrna into the third century C.E., 2.595. There appear to have been between thirty-three and thirty-six singers at Pergamum, AvP, 7,2.374A-D; see also IGRR 4.353b. Buckler and Robinson, "Sardes IV," AJA 18 (1914): 35-37, no. 8; IvEph la.10, L. 22; 4.1012, 1030, 1034-35, 1036-37, 1039, 1044. For a representative list of cult officials associated with the Temple of Artemis at Ephesus see Oster, "Ephesus as a Religious Center," 1722. Henry George Liddell and Robert Scott, A Greek-English Lexicon, 9th ed. (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1996), 1172. Aelius Aristides Sacred Tales: 110, 44; Sacred Tales: 1120, 35; Sacred Tales: III 22. AvP 8,2.255, L. 24. AvP 8,3.29.

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Sardis had them for Artemis127 and Zeus;128 while Ephesus had them for Artemis129 and for the Sebastoi.130 Others are attested in Smyrna and Aezani, where we encounter a "chief temple-warden" (άρχινεωκόρο[υ]).131 The functions of "temple-wardens" likely varied with location and time, but in general they cared for the temple, oversaw many of the religious activities, and assisted the priests.132 We are somewhat better informed about the "temple administrators" (νεωποιοί).133 The term literally means "temple-maker," but the functions of the neopoioi involved the maintenance of many different aspects of the temple. Whereas most temples apparently had only one or two neokoroi, the neopoioi were usually present in abundance. There was a board of neopoioi at Sardis,134 Magnesia on the Maeander135 and at Aphrodisias where we also find a "chiei-neopoios" (άρχινεωποιόν, πρωτονεοποιόν) 136 and a "viceneopoios" (άντινεοποίος). 137 At Ephesus there was a "synagogue" (της συναγωγής]) or "synhedrion" (του συνεδρίου) of neopoioi that may have contained twelve members.138 The responsibilities of these neopoioi covered a broad range. Their duties included overseeing repairs and additions to the sanctuary and temple, superintending the setting up of monuments in the sanctuary, managing aspects of the temple finances, recovering fines for the violation of grave sites, properly maintaining the "furniture" of the temple, carrying the cult

127 128 129 130

131

132

133

134 135 136

137

138

Sardis, nos. 4, 89; Buckler and Robinson, "Sardes IV," no. 9, p.40. New Documents, 1.3. Xenophon Anabasis 5.3.6. IvEph 2.237, 241, 424A; 3.710; 6.2069. The office was hereditary in at least one family of Ephesus, 7,1.3038. IvSmyrna 1.515; 2.594, 596, 639, 641; C. W. M. Cox, A. Cameron and J. Cullen, Monuments From the Aezanitis, ed. Β. Levick, et al, MANIA, no. 9 (London: Society for the Promotion of Roman Studies, 1988), no. 10. Steven J. Friesen, Twice Neokoros: Ephesus, Asia and the Cult of the Flavian Imperial Family (Leiden: Brill, 1993), 50-52. At Pergamum, they kept the temple keys, had charge of votive offerings, and gave advice on dreams, Aelius Aristides Sacred Tales: I 10, 44; Sacred Tales: 7/31-35; Sacred Tales: III22. Various terms including "temple-warden" have been used to translate this term, but I have chosen "temple-administrator" because it distinguishes the office from the neokoroi and it expresses the varied nature of their responsibilities. Sardis, no. 1. CIG 2917. CIG 2782, 2811; Joyce Reynolds, Aphrodisias and Rome, JRS Monographs, no. 1 (London: Society for the Promotion of Roman Studies, 1982), no. 56. Charlotte Roueché, Performers and Partisans at Aphrodisias in the Roman and Late Roman Periods (London: Society for the Promotion of Roman Studies, 1982), no. 77. IvEph 2.419A; 3.951, 966; G. M. Rogers, "Demetrios of Ephesos: Silversmith and Neopoios?" Bell (1987): 879; GIBM, 3.413, pp. 27-28.

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statues in processions, overseeing the celebration of games,139 sacrifices and festivals,140 and requesting (at least in Hellenistic times) honors and citizenship for various individuals and then overseeing the inscribing of those decrees in the sanctuary. The neokoroi and neopoioi, in conjunction with the priesthood, facilitate the worship of the gods; yet, considering that most ritual activities do not require a temple for their performance, what role does the temple play in the act of worship? As the locus of divine presence, the temple does more than provide a setting for religious rituals. The temple with its cult statue adds a resonance to the proceedings and a heightened degree of sanctity. Rites performed before the open doors of the temple are rites performed in the presence of the deity. Vitruvius argues that temples should be oriented in such a way as to intensify the impression of the cult statue rising up to gaze over the proceedings.141 Temples also function as places of prayer. Because these prayers were addressed to the gods, the closer one could get to the cult statue the greater the chance one had of being heard. In times of crisis and need, individuals, groups or entire communities would go to temples to pray for victory, healing or deliverance.142 When access into the ναό? was restricted, the prayers could be offered outside in view of the statue.143 At other times and places, however, it was possible to enter the temple and pray directly before the image.144 For the Romans, prayer at temples was integral to maintaining proper relations with the gods. Bad omens meant that the proper relationship between the gods and humanity, the pax deum, had been disrupted. To appease the gods and restore the peace, the Romans would declare a period of prayer and supplication at the temples, which would be opened for this very purpose.145 Failing to restore the breach in this fashion could bring disastrous

139

140

141 142

143 144

145

At Aphrodisias in particular, the neopoioi appear to have played an important role in the putting on of contests, Roueché, nos. 81-85. Another group of sacred officials known as the ίεροποιοί also were involved in the administration of sacrifices and festivals, Otto Schulthess, "Νεωποίοί," RE 16 (1935): 2435. Vitruvius On Architecture 4.5.1; 4.9.1. Caesar Civil Wars 2.5; Polybius Histories 9.6.1-4; see also Aelius Aristides Sacred Tales: 117. Pausanias Description of Greece 2.10.4; Apuleius Metamorphoses 11.20. Herodotus 5.72; Achilles Tatius Leucippe and Clitophon 4.1.5-8; Seneca Epistles 41.1; Corbett, 151. Livy writes that the purpose of these "expiations" was "to alleviate men's anxiety concerning their relations with the gods," 21.62.11; 23.31.15; 24.10.6-13; 26.23.4-6; 27.4.15; 27.11.1-6; 28.11.1-7; 35.9.2-5; 39.22.4; 45.16.5-6.

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consequences on the whole city.146 Orlin writes: "The principal purpose of the state religion was to safe-guard the pax deum, the favor of the gods, and thereby to ensure the safety and prosperity of the community."147 Maintenance of the pax deum was the main characteristic of Roman state religion, yet the desire to maintain proper relations with the gods for the purpose of securing the safety and prosperity of the community was a concern of Greek religion as well. The temples of western Asia Minor united the community in the acts of worshipping and honoring the deity. Assessing the motivations of ancient people is notoriously difficult, but we must avoid thinking of ancient religion as devoid of sincerity. As Oster states: "The veneration and glory of Artemis stemmed also from her abilities to satisfy the religious, emotional, and spiritual needs of her devotees."148 Terms such as "pious" (ευσεβής), "zealous" (φιλότιμος) and "lover of Artemis" (φιλάρτεμι?), contained in Ephesian inscriptions, testify to the strong bond between worshippers and deity,149 as does the practice of naming babies after Artemis.150 In one Ephesian inscription, devotees describe themselves as being "most affectionate to the most holy goddess Artemis" (προσφιλέ[στ]ατον τ[τ)] άγιωτάτη [θ]εω Άρτέμιδι). 1 5 1 The devotion of worshippers to a particular deity is linked to the belief that the deity cares about and strives to aid devotees. The epithet έττήκοος· ("hearing") used of Artemis of Ephesus and Asclepius of Pergamum refers to "the god who hears" and answers prayers.152 The ancient conception of the gods as benefactors fits within the social system of patronage in which the act of reciprocity was of supreme importance. Ensuring the continued favor and benefaction of the gods required the reciprocal act of offering them gratitude and honor. In most cases, the display of gratitude was a sincere thanks for deliverance, healing, and assistance. Cult officials such as neopoioi who wished to express their gratitude to Artemis for the benefits they received as 146 147 148 149

150

151 152

In one instance the consuls failed to obtain proper reconciliation so the "dire consequences" fell on them "while the state remained unharmed," Livy 27.23.1-4. Orlin, 4. Richard Oster, "The Ephesian Artemis as an Opponent of Early Christianity," J AC 19 (1976): 37. Horsley, "Inscriptions of Ephesos," 144; IvEph la.27, LL. 84-85, 451-52; 3.690, 957; 5.1578B. For the use of "piety" and "zeal" in Pergamene inscriptions see AvP 8,1.226; 8,2.489, 504; 8,3.20, 23. H. D. Saffrey, "The Piety and Prayers of Ordinary Men and Women in Late Antiquity," in Classical Mediterranean Spirituality: Egyptian, Greek, Roman, ed. A. H. Armstrong (New York: Crossroad, 1986), 198. IvEph 3.645. IvEph 2.504; AvP 8,3.99, 100; E. L. Hicks, "Three Inscriptions From Asia Minor," JHS 27 (1907): 227, no. 2; Oster, "Holy Days," 80.

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her servants set up public inscriptions containing the phrase "I give thanks to you, Lady Artemis" (ευχαριστώ σοι κυρία "Αρτεμι). 153 Expressions of gratitude towards the deity for benefits received often took one of two forms. The first was the votive offering. Tokens of gratitude would be dedicated to the deity and used to adorn the sanctuary and temple. Spoils of war might be dedicated in gratitude for the deity providing victory.154 Other common offerings are altars, statues and various tokens of worship such as libation bowls (φιάλας). 155 These votive offerings with their accompanying inscriptions commemorated the gratitude of the donor and testified to the power and mercy of the deity. A sanctuary overflowing with votive offerings demonstrated to visitors the power of the deity and generated devotion in the hearts of devotees. At the healing sanctuaries of Asclepius, votive offerings advertised the healing powers of the god. As a repository of votive offerings, a city's temple testified to the continual presence and benefaction of the deity within the community.156 Votive offerings could take the form of a vow where the prospective donor promises an offering in response for a certain benefit from the deity. It could also take the form of a thank-offering for safe travel, deliverance from a particular problem or situation, or for an answer to prayer.157 The reason for an offering is often recorded in the inscription, which identifies the offering as a "vow" (εύχήν) 158 or a "thank-offering" (ευχαριστήριοι). 159 Temples themselves may be votive or thank-offerings.160 153 154

155

156 157

158

159

160

IvEph 3.957-58, 960-62; 5.1578B, 1588. At Pergamum, King Eumenes II made an offering derived from spoils to "Athena Bringer-of-Victory" (Νικηφόρωι), AvP 8,1.60. IvEph 4.1213; Athenaeus Deipnosophists 6.230b; Diodorus Siculus 4.49.8; Dionysius of Halicarnassus Roman Antiquities 1.51.3. At times these were golden bowls, Athenaeus Deipnosophists 11.502b; Diodorus Siculus 16.56.6; Pseudo-Lucian Lucius 41. Burkert, 43-44. An Ephesian inscription from 114/115 C.E. records a dedication of a Nike statue to "Artemis who hears" ( Ά ρ τ έ μ ι δ ι έπηκόω), IvEph 2.504. Sardis, no. 100; AvP 8,3.82-83, 99, 108; IvEph 4.1228, 1237, 1266; IvSmyrnà 2.746. A first century C.E. Ephesian inscription demonstrates a sample dedication: "Having vowed (εύξάμενο?), I, Cornelianus, set up for you, Lord Zeus Ktesios, this altar," IvEph 4.1240. AvP 8,3.65, 74, 113. Of course, the distinction between a vow and a thank-offering could be negligible as in the inscription that refers to the dedication as both a vow and expression of thanks, IvEph 4.1235. An inscription from Smyrna refers to the "temple which is a thank-offering" (τον χαριστήριον νεώ), IvSmyrnà 2.697, LL. 18-19. A shrine at Sardis dedicated to "the manifest hero" (ήρωι έ π ι φ α ν ε ΐ ) was a votive shrine built by Timarchus the "templewarden" (ve[(ú]KÓpos) of Artemis, probably for his patron, King Eumenes II; see Sardis, no. 89; see also no. 4. The small temple on Kuretes street in Ephesus dedicated to Artemis, Hadrian, and the demos was likely a votive shrine as well, IvEph 2.429; Peter Scherrer, "The City of Ephesos: From the Roman Period to Late Antiquity," in Koester, Ephesos, 10. Small models of temples were also votive offerings; see W. M. Ramsay,

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A second form of gratitude to the deity was reciprocal benefaction. Recipients of blessings from the gods could express their devotion and gratitude through various contributions to the temple and deity. Ephesian inscriptions from the first century B.C.E. and first century C.E. refer to individuals who are "patrons" and "benefactors" (προστάτην, πάτρωνα, εύεργέτην) of the temple of Artemis.161 One method of benefaction was the establishment of endowments or foundations benefitting the temple and its sacred officials. 162 Although the Romans restricted the practice, individuals are known to have made the deity their heir.163 A related practice involves identifying the deity as the recipient of fines payable for violating a gravesite.164 Another form of benefaction was for sacred officials to serve voluntarily or at their own expense.165 The building and adornment of temples was another act of benefaction, as examples from Ephesus and Pergamum show.166 In addition to the emphasis on thanksgiving, these temples represent the bond between deity and city, thus promoting community cohesion. The various acts of worship unite the citizens around the common goal of honoring the gods. Rituals performed before the temple were community events and most sanctuaries provided ample space for the gathering of individuals. The sanctuary of Demeter and Kore at Pergamum was narrow and rectangular due to the topography of the site, but compensation was made in the form of rows

161 162

163 164 165 166

The Church in the Roman Empire Before A.D. 170 (New York: G. P. Putnam's Sons, 1893), 123-126, 134. The silver temples (vaoús) of Artemis made by Demetrius were probably intended for devotional and votive purposes (Acts 19:24). In the Roman Republic temples were frequently vowed by generals either before or during the battle in exchange for the deity providing victory. On other occasions, temples were built after a successful battle as a thank-offering, Livy 2.20.12; 2.42.5; 5.22.7; 7.28.4; 10.19.17; 10.36.11; 29.36.8; 31.21.12; Orlin, 26-7. IvEph 3.614C, 663, 716. CIG 2782; IvSmyrna 2.753. The foundation of Gaius Vibius Salutane of Ephesus on behalf of the Temple of Artemis is a prime example, IvEph la.27. IvEph 3.692; Oster, "Ephesian Artemis as an Opponent," 33. CIG 2824, 2826. IvEph 3.957, 96; Horsley, "Inscriptions of Ephesos," 143. IvEph 3.690; 4.1139, 1246, 1266; 5.1503; AvP 8,2.297. Damianus of Ephesus is said to have built a portico connecting the Temple of Artemis to the city so "worshippers need not stay away . . . in case of rain," Philostratus Lives of the Sophists 2.605. An inscription on a statue-base from Ephesus dating to about 120 C.E. states that P. Rutillius Bassus, a priest of Demeter, "made the temple of Demeter at his own expense and the things before the temple," IvEph 4.1210. Rufinus donated many offerings and cult statues at Pergamum, Aelius Aristides Sacred Tales: IV 28. A woman from Pergamum named Flavia Melitine paid for the building of a library in the sanctuary of Asclepius along with a statue of "the god Hadrian" displayed there, AvP 8,3.6, 38; Marcel Le Glay, "Hadrien et l'Asklépieion de Pergame," BCH 100 (1976): 351, no. 4. See also IvSmyrna 2.697.

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of bleacher-style seats placed along the northern end of the precinct for participants or observers of cultic activities. That temples represent and unify disparate groups of people is also evident with respect to cultic personnel. Cultic officials such as priests were often elected by the people and thus representatives of the people. The board of "temple administrators" at Ephesus apparently consisted of twelve members with two selected by open election from each of the six tribes. "The board was thus a thoroughly representative one, enabling every portion of the body politic of Ephesos to take part in the custody of the Artemision."167 Joint sacrifices between two cities or the involvement of one city in the sacrifices of another ideally promoted unity on a broader scale.168 By the early second century C.E., Ephesus and Smyrna held joint-sacrifices.169 A related phenomenon was the celebration of festivals with their accompanying processions, contests and sacrifices. Numerous festivals were celebrated at Ephesus with the two most significant being the Artemisia and the Ephesia.170 These and other festivals impacted the entire city. The processions wound throughout the city with sacrifices and celebrations spread throughout at various locations. As with the Artemisia, the temple provides the focal point, the beginning and the end, of the processions. The procession begins with the removal of the deity's image from the temple. The deity's image then oversees the festivities as the procession travels throughout the city, returning to the temple at the end. The processions and festivals of cities like Ephesus and Pergamum promoted goodwill and association between cities. One festival at Ephesus, sometimes called the Ephesia, began as a Pan-Ionian festival involving delegations of various cities of Ionia. In the fourth century B.C.E., it was moved closer to Ephesus where it eventually became a national festival of Ionians of Greece and Asia.171 Although this particular festival lost its national quality with the advent of the Roman Empire, the festivals of Ephesus still attracted individuals from all over Greece and western Asia Minor.172 Equally significant were the provincial festivals of the imperial 167

GIBM, vol.3, p. 208; Rogers, "Demetrios of Ephesos," 879. Greek federations in particular held temples and sacrifices in common, for example, Strabo Geography 8.6.14. 169