This book takes up the question of the Christianization of the Roman Empire through the exploration of interrelated practices of knowledge and material production. Mark Letteney argues that new methods of theological argumentation developed after the Council of Nicaea were soon exported into other non-theological disciplines, especially in law, and, in some cases, in non-Christian contexts. Letteney analyzes both literary sources and the material evidence of manuscript production, concluding with a case study on the Theodosian Code.
After an introductory chapter outlining the argument, the book is divided into three sections. Part One, “New Readers,” consists of three chapters, moving chronologically from the second through fifth centuries. Focusing on “epistemic knowledge,” that is, the scholarly practices themselves, Letteney argues that Christians writing prior to the fourth century utilized a variety of theological methods, quite different among themselves and from what came after (28). Of particular interest here is the extent to which scriptural interpretation did, or did not, comprise a central element of these methods. For example, the letters of Ignatius evince a method rooted in inspired and institutional authority, not exegesis, while Justin Martyr’s approach is “pre-textual”: the scriptures give witness to truths that are also accessible through reason and philosophical inquiry (40). Irenaeus appeals to a confluence of apostolic tradition and scripture, while Tertullian prioritized the rule of faith prior to any engagement with scripture. The Gospel of Truth is included as an example of a method that presents itself as “self-contained revelation,” with no concern at all for scriptural exegesis (56).
Chapter three focuses on Athanasius as a key architect of a “methodological revolution” (64) in the fourth century. Scriptural exegesis gave way to the Nicene Creed, which served as a “paratext” that provided “the authoritative framework for all subsequent reading” of the scriptures (81). Athanasius’ Concerning the Decrees exhibits a critical element of this new method – the aggregation of sources, both in support of and contrary to the Nicene position, into a compendium that could be deployed for apologetic and polemical purposes.
Chapter four highlights the consolidation of this new theological method, composed of aggregation, distillation, and promulgation. Letteney argues this method was soon applied in other areas of knowledge production once Nicene Christians came to hold majority power in the Theodosian era. Jerome, Socrates, Sozomen, and Ambrose, along with the dossier of documents from the proceedings of the Council of Ephesus (431 CE) provide examples of theological aggregation. Non-theological sources such as Macrobius’ Saturnalia and the Theodosian Code (a primary focus of the book as a whole) also incorporate multiple, sometimes conflicting, sources with the aim of distilling them into a statement of universal truth.
Part Two, “New Texts,” demonstrates how these new methods contributed to and were employed in a new book culture. Chapter five helpfully begins by sorting through modern academic slippage between the concepts of code, codex, and canon. Letteney provides an excellent discussion of the related phenomenon of the increase in codex production and the evolution of the codex itself into a “prestige object,” signifying divine presence and imperial authority (137). Chapter six introduces a fascinating discussion of how we can see the processes of aggregation, distillation, and promulgation at work in manuscript production. The method of aggregation created a “problem of discernment” for late ancient readers (148) – how was a reader to know which sources communicated the truth? The author argues that scribes introduced a series of “paratextual solutions,” literally highlighting heresy through the use of markers such as red ink, eisthesis and exthesis, and other sigla. Chapter seven illustrates how these scribal tools used in theological texts were then employed in non-theological, even non-Christian, texts. Nomina sacra, supralinear contractions, and the staurogram appear in manuscripts ranging from the Aeneid to juristic works. These do not speak to the religious beliefs of the scribes as much as they display visually the Christian culture of knowledge production that came to dominate in the late fourth century. Chapter eight explores the effects of these new reading strategies, chief among these being interpretive strategies for sorting through the aggregate material. For example, the Law of Citations in the Theodosian Code provided the “rules for deciding,” a programmatic statement authorizing which juristic texts and authors (not ideas) were to be considered authoritative legal sources (202). The chapter ends with an interesting discussion of the Palestinian Talmud, which the author describes as “a particularly Roman and Theodosian project,” in the way that it too exhibits the type of suspicion of documents and rules for deciding found in other texts (218). A comparison with the Babylonian Talmud, produced outside the Theodosian ambit, shows a very different method.
The book ends with a Case Study of the Theodosian Code that traces the transfer of the concepts magisterium and “general law” (lex generalis) from theological to juristic contexts.
Like any good book, this one provoked a few questions for me. First, new or not new? The opening chapters of the book emphasize the newness of the methods and situate them within a “moment of rupture” (7). But later, the author writes that these methods were not “fundamentally new” (101). Clearly, something new was happening, but how should we think about these methods of textual analysis and argumentation in relation to the predominating methods of grammatical, rhetorical, and philosophical education (which the author on occasion alludes to)? Second, the notion that scriptural exegesis was rejected or “faded” remains unclear to me, given the continued production of commentaries throughout the period (89). Finally, the author’s point about the symbolic power of the codex as an object is certainly correct. But is this by virtue of itself or should we also consider the ritual contexts – both liturgical and political – that created or enhanced this power? This book is an important contribution to recent discussions about modes and structures of knowledge in Late Antiquity. It is especially commendable for the way it brings together theory and practice, textual interpretation, and material evidence. I highly recommend it.