In the fall of 2009, I was a young, aspiring scholar of biblical studies who stepped foot on one of America's oldest and most prestigious institutions of higher education, Yale University. The traditions of excellence at Yale run deep, and I knew that. The buildings, in fact, intimidated me. I overcame that with time because I was there with a purpose: to learn from the best. I was accepted to several top-tier universities for my masters work, such as Vanderbilt and Emory. The other institutions were closer to home and would have been more convenient in that regard. But, I wanted more, and I knew Yale would provide that for me.
My advisor at Yale was the wonderful Prof. Adela Collins, from whom I learned so much. As a New Testament scholar and author of many books, including an encyclopedic commentary on the Gospel of Mark, she exemplified what it meant to be a scholar...and a wonderful human being. (I really wish to return to Prof. Collins because she listened to my 22 year old self and agreed to supervise a directed seminar that I proposed.) In my first advising session with Prof. Collins, I expressed interest in taking Prof. Harold Attridge's REL694 seminar, "Readings in Hellenistic Jewish Literature." Prof. Attridge was at that time Dean of the School of Divinity. She remarked something like, "That's a hard course, you know." She then followed up with questions about how much experience I had with Ancient Greek. I felt pretty confident, since I had taken 3.5 years of Greek grammar at Lee University, where I obtained my baccalaureate degree. With this information, Prof. Collins gave her blessing and so I signed up for Dean Attridge's course.
On September 3, 2009, I walked into a seminar room on the first floor of the Yale Divinity School full of peers. We awaited Dean Attridge's arrival. Dean Attridge was never slow, I would learn later. He was quick to move from one place to the next. He came walking swiftly through the door and it was down to business. After we went around the table introducing ourselves, Dean Attridge discussed some business related to the course. Perhaps the scariest thing we learned that day was that 80% of the student’s grade would be based on a final exam consisting of a translation of an unseen Greek text! Then, he passed out a few sheets of Greek text from the Septuagint. He said, "Just for fun, we're going to sight read some Greek." Unknowingly, I happened to have taken a seat next to where Dean Attridge would sit for the rest of the term. And on this first day of class, that meant I was up first to sight read the provided Greek text. While perspiring, I managed with some difficulty to make my way through a block of text from Joshua. I'm pretty sure Dean Attridge did this in order to gauge the skill level of those taking the course.
This course was difficult. Prof. Collins was right on the mark when she told me that. We read difficult passages from Philo, Josephus, wisdom literature, poetry, and so on. The syllabus indicated that we should read about "6-8 hours" of Greek each day in preparation for the weekly seminar. When we were in the seminar, each student took a turn reading passages in sequence from the selected text. In our second seminar on September 10, we read three chapters from 2 Maccabees. (For those who don't know, that's a lot of Greek!)
The Greek became more difficult as the course progressed. We spent the entire month of October reading Philo. And Philo is not easy to read in Greek. The grammatical constructions frequently caused me to go mad. As much of the class struggled that month, that was certainly not the case for Dean Attridge. He had a habit (tradition?) of finishing the final minutes of the class by translating the remaining portions of text from that week. (For those who don’t understand this: he is holding nothing but Greek text in his hand, translating the Greek into English in his head, and speaking that translation aloud. This is how sight reading works.) The month we read Philo, he would spend anywhere from 3-5 minutes swiftly yet gracefully translating Philo into English…beautiful, decipherable English, for us all to hear. Had I not witnessed it, I would have thought he had words marked up and parsed on his text. I sat right next to him, remember, and so I always looked onto his sheet: the man translated some very difficult Greek without assistance almost as fast as I could read a passage from some popular children’s book!
I will never forgot Prof. Attridge’s command of the Ancient Greek language. I will also never forget his willingness to talk to the students as he walked through the halls, attended events, ate in the refectory, and so on. This evening, when I learned of Prof. Attridge’s retirement after 23 years as dean, scholar, and professor (<—read this!), I could not help but sit down and reflect on my time with him at Yale. I set out to learn from the very best scholars when I attended Yale. Prof. Attridge was one of those scholars and I am grateful I had the privilege to take one of his courses and cut my teeth on some of the most difficult Greek I had experienced up to that point.
A warm congratulations on your retirement, Prof. Attridge!
PS: My score on the final exam was an HP+ (Ivy League grading, equating to B+).
In my 2016 book on amulets, I analyzed an incomplete parchment codex folio with Greek text from the Gospel of Matthew (6:4-6, 8-12). The manuscript is housed at Columbia University and was published as P.Col. 11.293. I echoed an earlier claim that this fragment was likely deliberately torn or cut from a continuous-text codex and used secondarily as an amulet for the text it contained (portions of the Lord's Prayer). Consequently, I argued (p. 103) that this manuscript should be listed in the Kurzgefasste Liste:
"Since this fragment was likely originally part of a continuous codex of at least the Gospel of Matthew and used only secondarily as an amulet, there is no reason why it should not be classified and added to the official list of New Testament manuscripts. As we shall see below, P.Oxy. 64.4406 (no. 15) is similar in that that fragment was also probably from a continuous codex and used secondarily as an amulet. (Yet, ironically, P.Oxy. 64.4406 has a place in the list under the GA number P105.) Thus, we have here a parchment manuscript that should be added to the majuscule category (e.g. 0xxx)."
Gregory Paulson at the Institut für Neutestamentliche Textforschung (INTF) reached out to me earlier this month indicating that this argument "makes perfect sense." I can now report that the INTF has listed P.Col. 11.293 as a majuscule manuscript in the GA system with the next available majuscule number, 0324. It is viewable in the online Liste here and at the Papyrological Navigator here.
Thanks to Gregory Paulson and the others at INTF for engaging with my work.
Entertainment of all sorts was common in antiquity, just as it is today. There was dancing, music, games, gambling, and so on. What is so interesting is that we have surviving records of ancient contracts for social entertainers. I have previously drawn attention to an interesting papyrus letter from the third century B.C.E. in which a person requested all sorts all musical instruments, an “effeminate dancer,” and some delicacies for a festival.
In another Egyptian document dated to the second century C.E., we find a contract for flute players who will play in a village for 8 days. I have included an English translation of the document below; an image of the actual papyrus document is at the top of this post.
“Silvanos, son of Ammonios, Hermopolite, business manager,
to Ploution son of Tapous and Dioskoros
son of Hadrianos, both from Alabastrine,
greeting. I have agreed with
you for me to perform on the flute, together
with my entire company, in the aforesaid village
for 8 days from the 24th
of the next month Epeiph, for a wage
for each day of ... drachmas of silver...”
The reference to an “entire company” means that a group of entertainers, likely also musicians, would be coming along as per the agreement of the contract. The daily wage would have been listed on the line following “drachmas of silver,” but the papyrus breaks off at this point.
There is an insightful article here, which contextualizes music and dance in ancient Egypt. It is very obvious how engrained music was within ancient cultures and the significance that ancient people attributed to it vis-à-vis religion and society.
Source of image and translation: http://papyri.info/ddbdp/p.col;8;226
Since today is December 30, I thought I would draw attention to something that happened in Roman Egypt on this day nearly 2,000 years ago.
P.Col. 10.254 is an interesting 2nd century papyrus document from Egypt (picture of actual document to the left). The document is an official deed of a sale. In it, we meet Herakleia who purchases a female slave named Berenike. Since Herakleia is herself a woman, this raises questions about women's property in Egypt. How much property could women possess? Was it normal for women to buy slaves? Did women purchase slaves for themselves or on behalf of men? In her article "Women as Property Owners in Roman Egypt" (TAPA 113, 1983: 311-321), Deborah Hobson demonstrated, from her analysis of documentary papyri, that women often owned a good deal of property. Usually, property was kept in the family and women and men were recipients of family property, even though men were the usual recipients of real estate (there are several exceptions). P.Col. 10.254 (text reproduced below) is not unique. There are indeed other papyri that mention women as purchasers of slaves (e.g., BGU 11.2111, P.Col. 8.219, P.Oxy. 1.73). So, we know that women could purchase slaves.
But, what P.Col. 10.254 and other similar papyri reveal is that women had access to full participation in the economy of Roman Egypt. Herakleia visited the appropriate financial office in person and the transaction was made in her name without any objection. In other words, there seems to have been no social stigma attached to Herakleia's purchase of her own property. The text indicates that Herakleia could "dispose" (i.e., sell, transfer) of Berenike "in whatever way she chooses," underscoring her rights to her property. As the editor maintains, "this is clearly a case of a woman acting independently of men in her own financial interests" (P.Col. 10.254, p. 25). Documentary papyri thus reflect ancient social realities and deepen our knowledge of all sorts of human activity in Egypt, from transportation, business, death, marriage, divorce, and so on.
Notice in the image at the top of this blog post, in a second hand, the subscription of Petechon, from whom Herakleia purchased Berenike. This is an example of a "slow writer," someone who could write their name and a few practiced lines but nothing more. The deed itself was probably written by a private clerk.