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Images of Empire, Imaging the Self: The Significance of the Imperial Statue Episode in the Acts of Peter

Published online by Cambridge University Press:  23 August 2013

Callie Callon
Callie Callon*
Affiliation:
University of Toronto
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Extract

The Acts of Peter (hereafter Acts Pet.) contains an account of the destruction of an imperial statue by an exorcised demon, a statue that is subsequently miraculously restored by its owner Marcellus with the help of prayer and the apostle Peter. Although scholars seldom examine this episode in significant detail, when they have addressed it, they have for the most part agreed that it is an indication of the anti-imperial stance of the text generally and an attack on the legitimacy of the imperial cult more specifically. This is perhaps not wholly surprising, given that the majority of the other apocryphal Acts of the apostles (hereafter AAA) do seem to exhibit this vein of hostility, and this corpus is often interpreted as something of a homogeneous whole.

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Harvard Theological Review , Volume 106 , Issue 3 , July 2013 , pp. 331 - 355
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Copyright © President and Fellows of Harvard College 2013 

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References

1 The following accepts the traditional assessment of an original (and now lost) Greek text, most likely composed ca. 200 c.e. in Asia Minor—a position that has recently been persuasively re-argued by Hans-Josef Klauck in The Apocryphal Acts of the Apostles: An Introduction (trans. Brian McNeil; Waco, Tex.: Baylor University Press, 2008) 83—84. On Asia Minor as a compositional provenance, see Bremmer, Jan N., “Aspects of the Acts of Peter: Women, Magic, Place and Date,” in The Apocryphal Acts of Peter: Magic, Miracles and Gnosticism (ed. idem; Studies on the Apocryphal Acts of the Apostles 3; Louvain: Peeters, 1998) 14–19Google Scholar, and Thomas, Christine M., “The ‘Prehistory’ of the Acts of Peter,” in The Apocryphal Acts of the Apostles: Harvard Divinity School Studies (ed. Bovon, François, Brock, Ann Graham, and Matthews, Christopher R.; Cambridge: Harvard University Center for the Study of World Religions, 1999) 39–62Google Scholar, at 55–58. The standard view that the last chapter of the work (ch. 41) is a later addition to the text (as are chs. 1–3) is also adhered to in the present work (discussed below, n. 92). That even the Martyrdom of Peter displays little to no hostility toward imperial figures is noted by Ann Graham Brock, who rightly asserts that there is a “striking lack of strong political overtones in the Martyrdom of Peter. . . . Some of the most common elements of the martyrdom genre are not present in the Martyrdom of Peter: no direct confrontation with political authority, no trial, and no apologetic speech” (“Political Authority and Cultural Accommodation: Social Diversity in the Acts of Paul and the Acts of Peter,” in The Apocryphal Acts of the Apostles: Harvard Divinity School Studies [ed. François Bovon, Ann Graham Brock, and Christopher R. Matthews; Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1999] 145–69, at 149). The Latin citations are taken from the second volume of Richard Adelbert Lipsius, Die apokryphen Apostelgeschichten und Apostellegenden. Ein Beitrag zur altchristlichen Literaturgeschichte (3 vols.; Braunschweig, Germany: Schwetschke, 1887), and unless otherwise noted translations are slight modifications of Wilhelm Schneemelcher, “The Acts of Peter,” in New Testament Apocrypha (trans. R. McL. Wilson; 2 vols.; rev. ed.; Louisville, Ky.: Westminster John Knox Press, 1989) 2:271–321. I am grateful to the anonymous reviewers of HTR for very helpful suggestions on earlier drafts of this paper. All shortcomings of this work remain my own.

2 Brock's writings provide one notable exception to this trend, suggesting a pro-imperial stance present in the work, although she does not address this particular episode at much length (“Political Authority”). Scholarship that does cite her work merely does so in passing as a contrasting perspective to the more dominant view. Similarly, István Czachesz argues against Judith Perkins's assessment of the Acts Pet. as something of a socially radical text. He demonstrates that the narrative does indeed subscribe to the key cultural norm in antiquity of honor and shame (“Who is Deviant? Entering the Story-World of the Acts of Peter,” in The Apocryphal Acts of Peter: Magic, Miracles and Gnosticism [ed. Jan. N. Bremmer; Studies on the Apocryphal Acts of the Apostles 3; Louvain: Peeters, 1998] 84–96).

3 While the exact nature of the relationship of literary dependence between the Acts Pet. and the Acts Paul is beyond the scope of this paper, that there is such a relationship of dependence renders the Acts Paul a fitting text to select as a primary point of comparison (for a discussion of which text potentially used the other as a source see Rordorf, W., “The Relation between the Acts of Peter and the Acts of Paul: State of the Question,” in The Apocryphal Acts of Peter: Magic, Miracles and Gnosticism [ed. Bremmer, Jan N.; Studies on the Apocryphal Acts of the Apostles 3; Louvain: Peeters, 1998] 178–91Google Scholar). While both texts share a similar date and location of composition, they have vastly different approaches to Roman authority figures. This indicates that one text, having knowledge of the other, deliberately deviated in tone and intent from its source—either to become more accommodating to imperial ideas or to position itself in opposition to them. For a fuller discussion of this contrast of reactions to authority figures, see Brock, “Political Authority,” 147–52). Therefore, for the following, the Acts Paul will be used as the focal point of contrast against the Acts Pet., although the other AAA exhibit similar hostility.

4 The similarities between this story and that in Philostratus's Vit. Apoll. (4.20) have been noted by Schneemelcher, “Acts of Peter,” 294 n. 1. While both accounts no doubt draw on common oral fabulae, the differences between them are notable: In the Acts Pet. it is a statue of the emperor that is destroyed by a demon, and then, in turn, restored. In the Vita Apoll., however, the image is merely one in the king's portico, and it is not restored after the destruction.

5 As Schneemelcher notes, in the Latin it is clear that the demon is the subject performing the action (“Acts of Peter,” 293 n. 4).

6 Bremmer suggests that curiosis is mistranslated by Schneemelcher, asserting that “the curiosi were not ‘busybodies,’ but a nickname for the agentes in rebus, a kind of imperial secret police . . . from AD 359 onwards they reported directly to the emperor and, therefore, became feared as spies. . . . Although Schneemelcher states that ‘the Latin translator has obviously followed the Greek text practically word for word,’ it is now equally obvious that he also ‘updated’ his translation to make it more interesting” (“Aspects,” 19). Yet such a conclusion is hardly necessitated by this word, for curiosis appears much more frequently in Latin texts with its general meaning of “inquisitive” or “curious,” most often with the negative connotation of being a meddler in someone else's affairs. Indeed, Cicero frequently uses the term in a self-deprecating fashion (Fam. 24, 86, 115), so much so that he must stipulate when he means it in a non-negative manner: “If our country could tell you for herself how she does, you would find her no better a source of information than your freedman Phanis. He is so sensible and, what is more, so inquisitive (curiosus), in a good sense of the word” (Fam. 64; Shackleton Bailey, LCL). Plautus, too, makes transparent the negative busybody connotations of the word, clearly not referring to an imperial official: “But this place is overrun with inquisitive (curiosi) riffraff, heart and soul intent on other folk's business, having none of their own that claims attention. . . . No one is inquisitive (curiosus) without wishing for the worst” (Stic. 1.199, 1.209; Nixon, LCL). Similarly, it is perhaps worth noting that the Vulgate translates the “busybodies” () of 1 Tim 5:13 as curiose.

7 Rhee, Helen, Early Christian Literature: Christ and Culture in the Second and Third Centuries (London: Routledge, 2005) 171Google Scholar.

8 Ibid., 159.

9 Ibid., 172.

10 On the identification of this character as an imperial priest, see Klauck, Apocryphal Acts, 57, and Bremmer, Jan N., “Magic, Martyrdom and Women's Liberation,” in The Apocryphal Acts of Paul and Thecla (ed. idem; Studies on the Apocryphal Acts of the Apostles 2; Kampen, Netherlands: Kok Pharos, 1996) 36–59Google Scholar, at 50–51.

11 Klauck, Apocryphal Acts, 57; Bremmer, “Magic,” 51.

12 Rhee, Early Christian Literature, 179.

13 Brock, “Political Authority,” 147.

14 Ibid.

15 Ibid., 148. While Brock does note that the first governor “weeps that such beauty should be devoured by seals” and “frowns” when Alexander asks to have Thecla tied to the bulls, she rightly states that “in neither case does this prevent him from trying a total of three times to execute her” (148 n. 41).

16 Ibid., 149.

17 Perkins, Judith, The Suffering Self: Pain and Narrative Representation in the Early Christian Era (London: Routledge, 1995) 133CrossRefGoogle Scholar. On the problematic nature of viewing the imperial cult in these terms (especially as a state religion), see Galinsky, Karl, “The Cult of the Roman Emperor: Uniter or Divider?,” in Rome and Religion: A Cross-Disciplinary Dialogue on the Imperial Cult (ed. Brodd, Jeffrey and Reed, Jonathan L.; SBL Writings from the Greco-Roman World, Supplement Series 5; Atlanta, Ga.: Society of Biblical Literature, 2011) 1–21Google Scholar.

18 Perkins, Suffering Self, 132.

19 Rhee, Early Christian Literature, 178.

20 On the imperial statue during the reign of Tiberius, Philostratus remarks that it was “more feared and venerated than the statue of Zeus at Olympia” (Vit. Apoll. 1.15; cited by Rhee, Early Christian Literature, 177). Yet Philostratus proceeds to explain that at issue was the concept of piety—the desecration of the imperial image was regarded an impious act () and as such was a punishable offense. As Marcellus himself describes it, the destruction was “a great crime,” and thus punishment for it would not necessarily reflect negatively on the emperor. As discussed below, from Augustus onwards, care for the treatment of an imperial image was firmly established as blanket policy, and hence it did not carry with it negative implications for the character of a given emperor.

21 Thompson, Leonard L., The Book of Revelation: Apocalypse and Empire (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1990) 164Google Scholar. See also Price, S. R. F., who suggests that viewing anti-imperial sentiment as being at the heart of the matter is an anachronistic interpretation, the result of scholarship having placed too much emphasis on later Christian persecutions (Rituals and Power: The Roman Imperial Cult in Asia Minor [Cambridge, U.K.: Cambridge University Press, 1984] 15–16)Google Scholar.

22 Harland, Philip A., Associations, Synagogues, and Congregations: Claiming a Place in Ancient Mediterranean Society (Minneapolis, Minn.: Fortress, 2003) 214Google Scholar.

23 Galinsky, “Cult of the Emperor,” 4–5. Galinsky here also cites similar lists compiled by Price in Rituals and Power 249–74 and by Friesen, Steven J., Twice Neokoros: Ephesus, Asia, and the Cult of the Flavian Imperial Family (Religions in the Graeco-Roman World 116; Leiden: Brill, 1993) 169–208CrossRefGoogle Scholar.

24 Galinsky, “Cult of the Emperor,” 5; quotation from Religions of Rome (ed. Mary Beard, John North, and Simon Price; 2 vols.; Cambridge, U.K.: Cambridge University Press, 1998) 1:360. Galinsky points out that “after all, it is the cult of Artemis, and not the imperial cult, that is the issue during Paul's extended stay at Ephesus (Acts 19), even though there was a small Augusteum that was somehow connected with the Artemision” (“Cult of the Emperor,” 5).

25 Referring to the later apocryphal text The Life and Miracles of Saint Thecla.

26 Klauck, Apocryphal Acts, 259–60.

27 Contra Cels. 8.38, 7.32; translation from Contra Celsum (trans. Henry Chadwick; Cambridge, U.K.: Cambridge University Press, 1953).

28 For example, Pliny notably brings out an image of the emperor to place alongside images of the traditional gods in his examination of former Christians (Ep. 10.96). Moreover, while not accused of this same destruction of images of traditional deities, Judeans were criticized by some for not erecting images of the emperor. David Noy notes that one of the charges of Apion to which Josephus felt a need to respond was this failure to erect such statues (“‘A Sight Unfit to See’: Jewish Reactions to the Roman Imperial Cult,” Classics Ireland 8 [2001] 68–83, at 72). Josephus appears to recognize that this behavior would seem problematic to outsiders, saying of this accusation that “Apion consequently would denounce us” before noting that even the emperors themselves were aware of this Judean practice (or non-practice) (Cont. Ap. 2.73; Thackeray, LCL). Tacitus also finds the absence of imperial statues among Judeans a cause for criticism, asserting that “this flattery is not paid their kings, nor this honor given to the Caesars” (Hist. 5.5; Moore and Jackson, LCL). Similarly, G. W. Bowersock notes that the subject of imperial statues shows up in rabbinic literature, where it is addressed by Jews “for reasons that were presumably little different from [those of] Christians” (“The Imperial Cult: Perceptions and Persistence,” in Self-Definition in the Graeco-Roman World [ed. Ben F. Meyer and E. P. Sanders; vol. 3 of Jewish and Christian Self-Definition; Philadelphia: Fortress, 1982] 171–82; 238–41, at 175). Citing m. ‘Abodah Zar. 3.1 (“all statues are forbidden because they are worshipped at least once a year . . . the words of Rabbi Meir”), Bowersock concludes that “it is evident from various discussions that the forbidden statues were judged to be those of emperors” (“Imperial Cult,” 175–76). As such it is clear that these images were deemed problematic (or unlawful) for at least some participants in a monotheistic system, making Marcellus's possession of such an image more worthy of note.

29 Excluded from this, of course, was the practice of damnatio memoriae, the defacement of images of an unfavorable emperor after his death. Pliny relates a joyous account of the destruction of statues of Domitian: “It was our delight to dash those proud faces to the ground, to smite them with the sword and savage them with the axe, as if blood and agony could follow from every blow” (Pan. 52.4; Radice, LCL).

30 Bremmer, “Aspects,” 11; Price, citing Historia Augusta, Caracalla, 5.7; also deemed culpable were those who had replaced the garlands on these statues, wishing to use the old ones for treating illnesses (Rituals and Power, 195).

31 Thomas, Christine M., The Acts of Peter, Gospel Literature, and the Ancient Novel: Rewriting the Past (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2003) 49Google Scholar; Tacitus, Ann. 1.74. Indeed, following the argument first put forth by Gerhard Ficker, Thomas argues that these two independent narratives are part of a common fabula regarding the same person—in other words, that the Acts Pet. has in mind this historical figure in its depiction of the character of Marcellus. Yet, as Thomas notes, the Acts Pet. gives “a distinctly Christian cast to the events. The charge of embezzlement is not the grave crime in [the Acts Pet.] that it is in Tacitus” (“Acts of Peter,” 49). “[The historical] Marcellus's offense against Rome, for which he was accused in the Roman courts, is transmogrified into a virtue by the Christians because it worked to their benefit” in accused by the emperor of taking the money—though his guilt is not proven—and donating it to the Christian community before his own lapse (“Acts of Peter,” 49). Thomas notes that the incident with the statue “is likewise whitewashed: it is no longer Marcellus's fault; through miraculous means, the statue is restored and no harm comes to him” (“Acts of Peter,” 49). It should be noted that in Tacitus the mutilation in question is the removal of the head of a statue of Augustus in order to replace it with a bust of then-emperor Tiberius—in other words, from the perspective of the alleged perpetrator, the desire to honor the current emperor, rather than an interest in disrespecting the previous one. Moreover, Ranon Katzoff also points to Suetonius Tib. 58, which seems to be a different telling of the same event (“Tacitus, Annals I, 74: The Case of Granius Marcellus,” AJP 92 [1971] 680–84, at 682). In Suetonius's version, the person who replaced the head on the statue of Augustus is not immediately known (“and because some doubt arose as to the perpetrator of the deed, inquisition was made by torture”), and his name is never given by Suetonius (Tib. 58). In another stark contrast between the two historical accounts, in Suetonius's account the matter is debated by the senate and the perpetrator is ultimately condemned, while in Tacitus, Tiberius himself confronts Marcellus about the statue and ultimately acquits him. In Suetonius the embezzlement charge is never mentioned, while in Tacitus it is given to a special committee to be dealt with. The discrepancies between these two accounts suggest that not too much weight need be given to the possibility that the Acts Pet. felt constrained by historical tradition. Though the similarity of the two charges of embezzlement and desecration of an imperial statue that Thomas notes are indeed striking, she herself observes that the stories as a whole “differ markedly” (Acts of Peter, 49). Moreover, that the author(s) of the Acts Pet. demonstrably felt no need to adhere to prior authoritative tradition is clear in that, unlike in the canonical Acts, in the Acts Pet. Simon was never part of the Christian community, and significantly his ultimate confrontation with Peter is set in Rome, rather than in Judea.

32 Katzoff, “Tacitus, Annals I, 74,” 682, citing S.E.G. IX, 8, and Dig. XLVIII, 4, 4, 1.

33 Price, Rituals and Power, 1.

34 Ibid., 90–91.

35 Ibid., 100.

36 Ibid., 101.

37 Harland, Philip A., “Imperial Cults within Local Cultural Life: Associations in Roman Asia,” AHB 17 (2003) 85–107Google Scholar, at 87.

38 Price notes that in Ephesus, where extant inscriptions on the bases of the statues describe by whom they were erected, only three were put up by Roman officials, and the other fifty or so were erected by locals of the community (Rituals and Power, 174).

39 Ibid., 174–75.

40 Ibid., 206.

41 Ibid., 198.

42 Ibid., 177.

43 Ibid., 184.

44 Ibid., 186. That imperial statues were found in households (thus further undermining pervious arguments that honorific displays to emperors were solely “public” or superficial undertakings) is discussed at some length by Price. He notes that Pliny had a private collection of imperial statues and indeed hoped to add to them a statue (statua) of the reigning emperor, Trajan (Ep. 10.8; Price, Rituals and Power, 120). Price also makes reference to a house in Prusa that had a temple to Claudius in its courtyard (Ep.10.70–71). This literary testimony is supported by archeological evidence, of which the most notable for the present purposes is the discovery of imperial images in excavations of what would have been wealthy homes in Ephesus (Price, Rituals and Power, 120); Price also discusses similar findings in Rome and Pompeii (Rituals and Power, 120). See also the discussion regarding the house church of Lullingstone, addressed briefly below.

45 Much of what follows here takes as its focus primary evidence. Given that early Christians are generally not readily identified as such in early documents, the following will address mainly early Judean evidence which is comparable to early Christians given their monotheistic perspectives. The following does discuss evidence relating to early Christians as such, yet it is of a later date (4th cent.) than much of the other material discussed. For reasons discussed below, this relative lateness should be seen, however, as evidence indicating a continuum for earlier practices. In addition to these arguments, it seems unlikely that early Christian groups either would introduce or would become freer in their engagement with non-monotheistic cult as time progressed (and the empire became Christianized), rather than the reverse.

46 Harland, Associations, 191.

47 Ibid., 199–200. Galinsky also cautions against the dualistic reading employed by many New Testament scholars on the issue of imperial resistance or engagement, one which does not align with the historical reality. He rightly suggests that “in this nascent atmosphere of contextualizing the New Testament with the Roman Empire the latter in particular often comes across as more monolithic and undifferentiated than it was in actuality. This is in part due to one impetus behind the new interpretive direction, that is to mark out the Gospels and Paul's letters as anti-imperial, if not anticolonial, because today ‘empire’ has the predominant connotations of oppression, injustice, and colonialism. Empire, ipso facto, is evil empire. . . . Add to this that for centuries the church, in various denominations, was a collaborator, whether active or tacit, with empires and you can see the desire to break free of all that and situate the Jesus movement firmly in an agenda of social justice and more. The resulting schema, therefore, tends to set up dichotomies and goes on to privilege them” (“Cult of the Emperor,” 2). Similarly, L. Michael White praises more recent studies “that have highlighted the problematic tendency to frame the discussion in rigidly dualistic terms, so that there is, functionally at least, no middle ground between accommodation (or acceptance) and resistance. Far too often it seems to be an ‘all or nothing’ game” (“Capitalizing on the Imperial Cult: Some Jewish Perspectives,” in Rome and Religion: A Cross-Disciplinary Dialogue on the Imperial Cult [ed. Jeffrey Brodd and Jonathan L. Reed; SBL Writings from the Greco-Roman World 5; Atlanta, Ga.: Society of Biblical Literature, 2011] 173–214, at 173).

48 Barclay, John M. G., Jews in the Mediterranean Diaspora: From Alexander to Trajan (323 BCE–117 CE) (Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1996) 326Google Scholar; quotation from Trebilco, Paul R., Jewish Communities in Asia Minor (Society for New Testament Studies 69; Cambridge, U.K.: Cambridge University Press, 1991) 187CrossRefGoogle Scholar.

49 Barclay, Diaspora, 327.

50 Ibid., 329.

51 Mentioned by Barclay, Diaspora, 329, and discussed by Harland, Associations, 6, 140, 227, and 286 n.7. See also White, who suggests that Julia would have been a guest of honor at the dedication (“Capitalizing,” 177).

52 Harland, Associations, 214. For a fuller discussion of documentary evidence belonging to what Harland terms a “moderate stance” toward imperial rule (similar to Barclay's medium level of assimilation), see Associations, 228–37. Similarly, White posits that among early Christians there was the same “broad spectrum of possibilities and modes of negotiation” that Judeans engaged in, providing additional documentary evidence for Judean links to the imperial cult (“Capitalizing,” 198).

53 Harland, Associations, 231–37.

54 Ibid., 231.

55 Ant. 16.165 (Marcus, LCL); Harland, Associations, 219–20

56 Harland, Associations, 220.

57 CIJ 284, 301, 338, 368, 416, 496; discussed by Harland, Associations, 223.

58 Harland, Associations, 227. White notes that, as evidenced by this inscription, Julia herself is in an active process of “negotiating status and identity within the civic framework of imperial rule” (“Capitalizing,” 178).

59 Barclay, Diaspora, 321.

60 Ibid. While unfortunately this particular inscription has an earlier composition date than the Acts Pet. (3rd cent. b.c.e.) and also stems from a different geographical region (Greece), its relevance to the present discussion perhaps legitimizes its use here.

61 Ibid., 322. This inscription is from Asia Minor, albeit also a little early, from the 2nd cent. b.c.e.; it is also cited by Harland, Associations, 200.

62 Barclay, Diaspora, 330.

63 Ibid.

64 The following is drawn from the unpublished paper “Shared Sacred Space? Early Christian Meeting Places in Roman Britain,” by Jenn Cianca, presented at the SBL International Meeting, July 2011, London, U.K. I am grateful for having been given access to this work, as well as for additional helpful bibliography provided by Cianca.

65 Cianca, “Shared Sacred Space?,” 1, citing Meates, Geoffrey W., The Site (vol. 1 of The Roman Villa at Lullingstone, Kent; Maidstone, England: Kent Archaeological Society, 1979) 36Google Scholar.

66 Cianca, “Shared Sacred Space?,” 6; following Meates, Site, 36.

67 Cianca, “Shared Sacred Space?,” 7. Cianca also cites Meates, who dates this second deposit of votives to approximately the same time that the house church was constructed: “we have here an example of pagan and Christian worship running parallel” (Site, 18).

68 Cianca, “Shared Sacred Space?,” 11. Interestingly, these busts have recently been identified as images of emperors, and this villa as the one-time dwelling of the governor of Roman Britain and ill-fated emperor Publius Helvius Pertinax (see Henig, Martin, “The Victory-Gem from Lullingstone Roman Villa,” JBAA 160 [2007] 1–7CrossRefGoogle Scholar). On the re-identification of the marble busts, see de Kind, Richard, “The Roman Portraits from the Villa of Lullingstone: Pertinax and his Father P. Helvius Successus,” in Otium. Festschrift für Volker Michael Strocka [ed. Ganschow, T. and Steinhart, M.; Remshalden, Germany: Greiner, 2005] 47–53Google Scholar). While Cianca rightly cautions that the identification of these busts as imperial figures was perhaps not known to the occupants of this house church, this is nonetheless an interesting parallel.

69 Cianca, “Shared Sacred Space?,” 11.

70 It is quite the opposite in the Acts Paul. There Thecla, the heroine of the piece, is responsible for the desecration of an imperial image (see above), and the incident is no doubt meant to be seen as a positive (if not triumphant) action.

71 Ps 118:22, utilized by Mark 12:10 and parallels.

72 Similarly, citing Isa 28:16, Peter elsewhere in the narrative states that the prophet referred to Jesus as “a stone ‘elect and precious’” (et lapidem cum dicit ‘Electum, praetiosum’) (24).

73 Bremmer seems to be the only scholar to comment on the senator's possession of the image; even then, it is only to note that having imperial statues on private property was not uncommon and thus would not have seemed strange to a contemporaneous audience (“Aspects,” 11).

74 “His house was called (the house) of pilgrims [Christians] and the poor” (Acts Pet. 8).

75 Acts Pet. 19–20.

76 Acts Pet. 21.

77 Acts Pet. 20.

78 Acts Pet. 21–22.

79 This is rendered all the more striking given how the author indicates that Marcellus painstakingly purified his house to remove “all traces of Simon and (all traces) of his wicked dust” (Acts Pet. 19). The author is therefore clearly aware of a polluting potential in persons (and objects, as will be discussed below) yet evidently does not include the statue of the emperor in that category.

80 The restoration of the statue is contingent upon Marcellus's (second!) repentance and his faith in Jesus. Peter admonishes him, using an imperative, that “if you are truly repentant and believe in Christ with all your heart, take (some) running water in your hands and pray to the Lord; then sprinkle it in his name over the broken pieces of the statue, and it will be restored as before” (Acts Pet. 11).

81 This is hardly surprising given that this is first and foremost a Christian text. Rhee herself recognizes other early Christian authors utilizing this strategy of subjugating the emperor to Jesus, building off statements found in the Pauline literature (1 Cor 15:25–28; Rom 13:1–6) indicating it is God's will that the emperor rule and giving imperial dominance divine sanction (Early Christian Literature, 166). Related to this is the assertion of Pheme Perkins, who maintains that “the conflict between Peter and Simon . . . provides the opportunity for a dramatization of Christianity's superiority over its pagan rivals” (Peter: Apostle for the Whole Church [Columbia, S.C.: University of South Carolina Press, 1994] 143). Yet this does not seem to be the case—if Simon were representative of a traditional deity or deities, it is difficult to see why the text would internally contradict itself on such an important point, given that elsewhere in the narrative Peter demonstrates respect, or at lease care, for an image of a traditional deity (in his rescuing of Eubula's idol, discussed below). Moreover, the other AAA have no problem specifying which deity or cult comes under attack by apostles or other Christians, so there is little reason to suppose this would be different for the Acts Pet., if indeed it shared this agenda. It is noteworthy that the text does not include a vivid recounting of the destruction or belittling of traditional deities. A better understanding of the conflict between Peter and Simon can therefore be suggested. Throughout the work Simon is portrayed as having the stock characteristics of a magician in antiquity (including a desire to increase his own status and gain financially, noted below), and so he serves as a foil to demonstrate that Peter is not a charlatan magician. While it is true that ultimately the people of Rome do convert to Christianity, and thus in this sense this episode could perhaps be considered a competition, it seems more likely that this is merely a function of the Acts Pet. being a Christian text, where the Christian God is deemed superior to all. This superiority does not necessarily translate into hostility toward traditional deities, as discussed above.

82 Klauck in passing refers to it as a “baptism,” but he does not examine or discuss this further (Apocryphal Acts, 91). Against the view that this vignette represents a baptism, one might point to the detailed narrative of what is unmistakably a baptism (it is even specified as such several times) earlier in the work; there are marked differences between the description there and that of the restoration of the statue. In the account of the baptism, not only is the person being baptized fully immersed in water (rather than being sprinkled with it) by Peter, an apostle who has the authority to do this, but also the Trinitarian formula is employed while doing so (Acts Pet. 5). Thus, if an image of baptism was meant to be evoked in the episode of the restoration of the statue, undoubtedly the text would have followed the same protocol as that undertaken in what is explicitly described as a baptism.

83 Though water is also mentioned—indeed, also “sprinkled” (adsparsi)—by Marcellus when he describes how he purified his house after Simon was expelled (Acts Pet. 19).

84 Hist. 15.64. Peter Stewart has argued that the Latin terminology for images of gods (simulacra or sigma) differs from those for images of persons (statua) (Statues in Roman Society: Representation and Response [Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2003] 24). He cites several texts that seem to be the exception to this rule, texts in which the term statua does refer to the image of a deity (ibid.). Here it is perhaps helpful to recall that the Acts Pet. is held to have been originally composed in Greek and that the same Latin word (statua, thus perhaps suggesting that the same Greek word was originally present) is used both in reference to this imperial statue and to the statue Marcellus erected of Simon during his apostasy, which bore the dedicatory inscription “to Simon the young God” (Simoni iuueni deo) (Acts Pet. 10). Thus, regardless of terminology, the Acts Pet. is demonstrably aware that statues can express theological convictions. As Thomas briefly notes on the restoration of the statue: “the symbolic connection to the imperial cult cannot have been absent to a second-century reader!” (“Prehistory,” 52). Thomas, however, does not pursue this observation beyond this apt assessment.

85 Augustine, quoting Seneca, City of God 6.10, also cited in Religions of Rome (ed. Mary Beard, John North, and Simon Price; 2 vols.; Cambridge, U.K.: Cambridge University Press, 1998) 2:233–34.

86 Duncan Fishwick, The Imperial Cult in the Latin West: Studies in the Ruler Cult of the Western Provinces of the Roman Empire (3 vols; Leiden: Brill, 1987–2005) 3:265, 504.

87 Indeed, if it is not to the emperor himself. Price notes that “honors paid to the image and to the emperor in person were interchangeable” (Rituals and Power, 205).

88 Particularly when compared with the other AAA (see Klauck's list above).

89 Bremmer also notes that this satyr was an object of worship (citing the reference to veiling it and to celebrating a festival) but does not examine the implications of this (“Aspects,” 8).

90 Ibid.

91 Perhaps equally striking is the fact that an object of cult was chosen at all to be among the objects stolen from Eubula. If the purpose of this episode was simply to demonstrate Peter restoring the widow's wealth, presumably the aforementioned gold and pearls would have sufficed. Notably, the satyr (satyriscus) is explicitly referred to as such three times within this relatively brief episode.

92 On the unlikelihood of this position, several persuasive arguments can be adduced. Thomas argues that the “sudden appearance” of Nero and Paul and the fact that the discourse from the cross finds little to parallel it elsewhere in the narrative militate against the chapter's original inclusion in the text (“Prehistory,” 47–48), and Gerard Poupon notes that the appearance of Paul occurs in clusters in the text, in three chapters at the very beginning and in one at the very end—the same (final) chapter in which Nero appears (“Les ‘Actes de Pierre’ et leur remaniement,” ANRW 225–26 [1988] (4381–82). Given this pattern, it seems likely that Nero was subsequently added to the text in order to align it with the later Christian tradition of Peter and Paul being martyred under his rule. Although Perkins maintains that she is not persuaded by these arguments, she does not indicate reasons why, nor does she offer her own argumentation against this consensus (if not to say established) view.

93 To cite but a few examples, Suetonius remarks that Nero “showed neither discrimination nor moderation in putting to death whomsoever he pleased on any pretext whatever” (Nero, 58; Rolfe, LCL), and Pliny the Elder describes him as “the enemy of mankind” (Nat. Hist. 7.8.46; Rackham, LCL). Moreover, the cathartic practice of assaulting and shaming unpopular emperors (if only in the imagination) is not unheard of: see Pliny's delight in imagining that it was actually Domitian himself that was being attacked (see n. 29, above).

94 Perkins, Suffering Self, 132.

95 Ibid., 134.

96 Hopkins, Keith, “Novel Evidence for Roman Slavery,” Past and Present 138 (1993) 3–27CrossRefGoogle Scholar, at 10.

97 See Jennifer Glancy for an application of this principle—utilizing slaves as surrogates to commit physical acts of violence so masters would not have to degrade themselves—to Matthew's parable of the unmerciful slave and to the parable of the talents (Slavery in Early Christianity [Minneapolis, Minn.: Fortress, 2006] 15–16, 118).

98 Brock, “Political Authority,” 151. In addition to this it is perhaps worth noting that, with the exception of his crucifixion, Peter is never portrayed as undergoing demeaning corporeal punishment, in stark contrast to the Acts Paul, in which Paul is repeatedly scourged by imperial officials.

99 Thomas, Acts of Peter, 91–92.

100 Here it is perhaps worth noting the potential significance that not even Peter himself commits this deed; rather, a “likeness” (similis) of him does, despite the “real” Peter being present in the dream.

101 “Marcellus, you heard the Lord saying: ‘let the dead be buried by their own dead’? . . . The things which you have laid out for the dead, you have lost; for you who are alive were like a dead man caring for the dead” (Acts Pet. 40).

102 Perkins, Suffering Self, 134. Here Perkins also remarks of Marcellus, again “it is his status that betrays him.”

103 Ibid.

104 Perhaps the most notable example for present purposes is the money given to Peter that he subsequently distributes to the Christian community (Acts Pet. 30). Here the patroness is Chryse, a very wealthy woman (and one of questionable character), who donates the money as a non-Christian and who remains non-Christian even after the donation. While the text does not relate subsequent honors paid to Chryse (and indeed these seem unlikely given how her character is described), the parallels between this narrative and the inscriptions regarding Judean communities and their respective non-Judean patrons is perhaps significant.

105 This is consonant with Simon's profession, as greed is one of the qualities associated with the stock trope of the magician in antiquity.

106 Perkins, Suffering Self, 134

107 Ibid., 134–35.

108 Czachesz, “Who is Deviant?,” 90.

109 Rhee, Early Christian Literature, 187.