In this ambitious book, Daniel Caner engages with a “social and cultural history about the evolution of Christian philanthropy, the rise of sacred wealth, and the motives for religious giving in the late Roman Empire of the East [Early Byzantium], circa 350–650 CE” (1). As ground work, in chapter 1, Caner situates the Christian ideal of stewardship in the context of the systematic provision of Christianized imperial subsidies to the churches, clergy, monks, and monasteries—all this in light of the preexisting Greco-Roman ideal of civic benefactions, on the one hand, and Jesus's mandate to give to all who asks, on the other. In the next chapter, he traces the development of Christian philanthropy, which was essential to Christian stewardship, while highlighting its classical dimension of concession and clemency to an ever-widening circle of recipients (universality) but also emphasizing its “privileging of a core constituency known as ptōchoi” (the poor)” (70)—those fallen into “reduced circumstances of health or wealth” (61), particularly lepers and monks in Christian institutions (prioritization). This paradoxical dual ideal and goal—universality and prioritization—persisted through various Christian gift-giving practices.

Next, Caner devotes each following chapter to five interrelated but distinct Christian gift-giving practices comprising Christian philanthropy: alms (eleēmostynē), charity (agapē), blessings (eulogiai), fruitbearings (karpophriai), and liturgical offerings (prosphorai). Since John Chrysostom advanced direct almsgiving (acts of mercy) as a means of nurturing social compassion between the upper and lower ranks and also of religious condescension by the former in the late fourth and fifth centuries, monasteries also saw almsgiving as a way of building compassionate condescension and humility in the monks through their direct ministrations of services of mercy (diakoniai) from the fourth to seventh century. This led monks to emerge as expert intermediaries between the rich and the poor in the later fifth and sixth centuries. However, almsgiving (material or immaterial) was never a goal in and of itself for monks; it is “a means of fostering a capacity for charity,” which is a “selfless, or rather, a self-sacrificing [higher] version of almsgiving” on behalf of others (99). In Egyptian anchoritic and cenobitic tradition, such charity entailed penitential and cooperative burden bearing, even risking one's “eternal perdition by taking responsibility for his neighbor's sin” (103); and as such, it helped form long-term bonds between mentors, disciples, and peers, as exemplified in the relationships between Barsanuphius and his protégés. Hence, while ordinary, material almsgiving suited to the lay people was oriented to securing benefits (i.e., salvation) for its giver, immaterial charity by the monks was considered as benefiting both the giver and the receiver (124).

Then, how did the monastic (and ecclesial) leaders reconcile their dependence on the material gifts of lay Christians with their need to keep “a sense of purity, integrity, and detachment from worldly concerns” (130)? Caner notes a blessing as a new Christian ideal in answering that question; it is a supplemental material gift to churches or monasteries, often in the form of small loaves of bread, theoretically coming from God without any obligation on its human givers or recipients that was also dispensed on to others as a token of the abbot's (or bishop's) generosity (130); it is a “pure, disinterred Christian gift” untainted by human self-interest or greed (144), helping ascetics resolve their newfound wealth in terms of divine providence with the earlier tradition of achieving Christian sanctity through material renunciation (157). Furthermore, “as the dark side of a blessing” (164), the ecclesial and monastic authorities justified and encouraged lay Christians to offer fruitbearings to express their gratitude for divine favors of agriculture already received. Byzantine hagiography provided the rationale by advancing the new ideas about monks serving as mediators between God and sinner through their power of ascetic prayer and penance to bring about God's blessings down from heaven and thus inciting gifts of gratitude through fruitbearings (165).

Finally, liturgical offerings, which was another late antique Christian innovation, were long-term private institutional endowments (chapels/churches and monasteries) encouraged by church and monastic leaders and supported by the imperial structure “to ensure that [lay] patronal bequests would last ‘forever’” after the patron's death through liturgical commemoration (196). As more and more lay founders wanted to be remembered by God postmortem for their salvation, it was again monks who emerged as the main and reliable performers of those liturgical commemorative rites for patron's positive memory in the Early Byzantium.

Caner's overall argument that Christian gift-giving in Early Byzantium was fostered by not only religious issues and purposes but also by social engagements, governmental establishments, and the rise of professional monks in the Christian institutions (229) holds up, although it is possible for a reader to get lost in his meticulous treatments of subtopics. His sources, including material ones, are broad, precise, well-researched, and well-interpreted, although he does not make any qualitative distinction between the historical and hagiographical sources. While he is keen to locate Christian gift-giving practices in their historical, social, and religious contexts, his use of various modern methodologies, such as archaeology and anthropology, is appropriate and sensitive. Caner's book is a welcome gift to the late antique studies in general and early Christian studies in particular.