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The Ransom of Captives: Evolution of a Tradition
Published online by Cambridge University Press: 10 June 2011
Extract
The admonition to ransom captives has a long paraenetic and social tradition that is documented in a variety of genres in early Christian literature. It is a tradition which, like many of its companion pieces in paraenetic literature, springs from roots in the Hebrew Scriptures which were consciously adopted by Christians as an important base upon which to build their own theology. The development of this particular tradition in early Christianity is an interesting example and test case of how a theological and moral conviction was not limited to verbal expression but was effectively translated into practice and creatively adapted to changing situations.
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1 Sale of oneself and sale of children to avoid exposing them or raising them in destitution were common practices throughout the ancient world. Cf. Bartchy, S., MAΛΛON XPHΣAI: First-Century Slavery and the Interpretation of 1 Corinthians 7:21 (SBLDS 11; Missoula, MT: Scholars, 1973) 49–50Google Scholar, and refs. given there, esp. A. H. M. Jones, “Slavery in the Ancient World,” The Economic History Review, 2d ser. 9 (1956) 185–99; reprinted in Finley, M. I., ed., Slavery in Classical Antiquity (Cambridge: Heffer, 1960) 1–15Google Scholar.
2 The major Pentateuehal regulations appear in Exod 21:2–11 (length of service and family arrangements for a Hebrew; sale of a daughter); 20–21 and 26–27 (injury by a master); Lev 25:39–46; Deut 15:12–18 (restrictions on service of a purchased Hebrew); Lev 25:47–55 (necessity of rescuing a Hebrew who has sold himself to a non-Hebrew and of providing means to help him escape impoverishment); Deut 21:10–14 (treatment of a female captive taken in war); 23:16–17 (protection for a runaway slave). The actual history of slavery in ancient Israel is virtually impossible to trace apart from the legal texts.
3 For a discussion of the distinction between Hebrew and non-Hebrew slaves, see Bartchy (First-Century Slavery, 52 n. 159) who observes that by the first century the relevance of such discriminatory policies is questionable since slavery was a major source of new proselytes who eventually became full members of the Jewish community. See also Gülzow, H., Christentum und Sklaverei in den ersten drei Jahrhunderten (Bonn: Habelt, 1969) 18–21Google Scholar; Urbach, E. E., “The Laws Regarding Slavery as a Source for Social History of the Period of the Second Temple, the Mishnah and Talmud,” Papers of the Institute of Jewish Studies, London (ed. J. G. Weiss; Jerusalem: Hebrew University, 1964) 1. 1–95Google Scholar. S. Baron (A Social and Religious History of the Jews [2d ed.; New York/London: Columbia University; Philadelphia: Jewish Publication Society, 1952] 1. 259–60) claims that “the commandment to ‘ransom captives' ranked among the highest in the Jewish religious law.” Though he cites only m. Gtf. 4.6, 9 in support of his claim, its restrictions on the Pentateuchal passages given above are worth noting. See also the article “Ransom ()” in JE 10. 316–17, for further details on the development of the tradition.
4 Cf. Urbach, “Laws Regarding Slavery,” 2–4, 31–40. After 134 CE, regulations about the civil status of Jewish slaves ransomed from Gentiles appear (ibid., 79–87).
5 See Jones, A. H. M., “Slavery in the Ancient World,” 193 n. 9; W. L. Westermann, The Slave Systems of Greek and Roman Antiquity (Philadelphia: American Philosophical Society, 1955) 84Google Scholar. The practice of putting prisoners of war on the block continued, however. For example, after the two Jewish wars thousands of Jewish prisoners of war were reportedly put on the markets of the Empire. Full refs. in Juster, J., Les juifs dans I'Empire Romain. leur condition juridique, économique et sociale (2 vols.; Paris: Geuthner, 1914) 2. 17–18Google Scholar. Kidnapping or capture in border skirmishes also continued to some extent. See discussion and refs. in Bartchy, First-Century Slavery, 49–50. The reverse situation-inhabitants of the Empire captured and ransomed from barbarians-also occurred: cf. Cyprian Ep. 69.3 for third-century Christian involvement.
6 See further discussion below, n. 27.
7 See examples and discussion in Bartchy, First-Century Slavery, 67–87; Taylor, L. R., “Freedmen and Freeborn in the Epitaphs of Imperial Rome,” AJP 82 (1961) 113–32Google Scholar; Rawson, B., “Family Life among the Lower Classes at Rome in the First Two Centuries of the Empire,” CP 61 (1966) 71–83Google Scholar. Both articles (and many others before them) wrestle with the inordinately large number of freedmen's (and therefore originally slaves') epitaphs in imperial Rome. Plausible conjectures regarding the freedman population have been made, but in the face of incomplete evidence, certain knowledge is impossible. There is, for instance, no way of knowing whether freedmen were more inclined than others to proclaim their status (Taylor's theory), whether the large proportion of freedmen's epitaphs (three times as many as freeborn in her study) approaches an accurate picture of the population, or whether we simply have preserved not a random sampling but a disproportionately large number of epitaphs from one segment of the population. For a study of the manumission pattern of a more controlled group, see Weaver, P. R. C., Familia Caesaris: A Social Study of the Emperor's Freedmen and Slaves (Cambridge: Cambridge University, 1972) 97–100Google Scholar. From the evidence at his disposal, Weaver was able to ascertain that the average age of manumission for male imperial slaves was in the early thirties.
8 Cf. Bultmann, R., History of the Synoptic Tradition (2d ed.; New York: Harper & Row, 1968) 23–24Google Scholar; Grundmann, W., Das Evangelium nach Matthaus (ThHKNT 1; Berlin: Evangelische, 1968) 524–29Google Scholar; Jeremias, J., The Parables of Jesus (rev. ed.; New York: Scribners, 1963) 206–10Google Scholar. This brief discussion must prescind from the complex question of whether the whole passage furnishes criteria for the judgment of believers or unbelievers. Surely even if Matthew's intention is to provide a basis on which the heathen can be judged, the illustrations of merciful conduct are meant equally well for the followers of Jesus (cf. Matt 5:47).
9 Cf. Moffatt, J., A Critical and Exegetical Commentary on the Epistle to the Hebrews (ICC; Edinburgh: T. and T. Clark, 1924) 224–26Google Scholar; 154–55; Spicq, C., L'Epître aux Hébreux (EBib; 2d ed.; 2 vols.; Paris: Gabalda, 1952) 417–18Google Scholar; 329–30. On the usage of συνδεδεμύνοϛ in 13.3, see 1 Sam 18:1 LXX; for expressions similar toκαὶ αὐτοὶ ‘ντεϛ ἐν σώματι, cf. Philo De spec. leg. 3.161; De conf. ling. 177.
10 Or “those who pray” in the light of LXX and NT usage (cf. esp. Wis 16:25) and Lucian Tim. 5.8; a slightly different emphasis but presumably one derived from the other: those who pray in petition are in need.
11 LSJ and BAG s.v. The λύτρον is commonly the price of manumission: cf. BAG. In the case of sacral manumission the image is one of purchase by the god and thus the terminology is that of buying: πρίασθι (ὠνεῖσθαι). See discussion in Bartchy, First-Century Slavery, 121–25, with special reference to Pauline usage of ἀγοράζω and δοῦλοϛ Ξριστοῦ.
12 E.g., Deut 15:15; 1 Mace 4:11; Isa 44:22; Luke 24:21; Titus 2:14. For an intermediate use between the literal and figurative, see 1 Pet 1:18.
13 There is also an attempt at chiastic structure in that the result clauses in the first and last examples both begin with ζνα ῤυσωνται (ῤυσηται). Though the three categories seem to represent pagans, Christians, and Jews, this is not a clear case of “third race” ideology since the third group are γυναῖκεϛ, biblical heroines. However, it must be pointed out that what Esther rescues (vs 6) is Tò ἐθνοϛ τοῦ 'Iσραήλ. Again, this could be an element of chiastic structure by placing Christians in the middle.
14 These important differences are overlooked by Bartchy, First-Century Slavery, 101. It would be interesting to speculate whether this ideal of voluntary slavery became very widespread, whether it was allowed only with Christian owners or also with pagans, and whether it eventually came under the same kind of cloud as did voluntary martyrdom (e.g., Mart. Pol. 4).
15 Is ἀγάπη here simply the first of eight foci of concern, in which case it could mean the simple virtue or the Christian love-feast as in 8.2, or is it the key idea, of which the other seven are illustrations? In other words, are all seven other works of charity ways of living ἀγάπη? BAG s.v., la, takes the latter interpretation in 6.2. This has a bearing on the meaning of Ign. Rom. 1.2 to be discussed below.
16 A few examples in disparate contexts: Vis 1.2.4 (both sing, and plur.); Man. 9.9; 11.1; Sim. 2.4; 9.20.2.
17 Reiling (Hermas and Christian Prophecy: A Study of the 11th Mandate [NovTSup 37; Leiden: Brill, 1973] 32 n. 2; see also 124–25) rejects K. Rengstorf's theory (“Δοῦλοϛ,” TDNT 2. 277) that the expression signifies a theology of the church as the real Israel and a rejection of the Jesus-δοῦλοϛ identification in favor of a higher christology; he also rightly dismisses L. Pernveden's thesis (The Concept of the Church in the Shepherd of Hermas [Lund, 1966] 177–79) that believers are δοῦλοι τοῦ θεοῦ instead of δοῦλοι τοῦ Ξριστοῦ because “the church has been created before anything else” (and therefore presumably before Christ?) (Vis. 2.4.1; cf. 2 Clem. 14). Reilings own tentative explanation follows the line of his major concern, early Christian prophecy: the use of the phrase in Hermas to signify all Christians is an extension of the prophetic phrase “My/Thy/His servants, the prophets” (he cites twelve instances with δοῦλοι, five with irai8" from the LXX), which thereby includes the whole congregation in the prophetic lineage. While the suggestion is intriguing, it is as difficult to substantiate as the theories he rejects. The suggestion of Erik Peterson (“Kritische Analyse der funften Vision des Hermas,” in Frühkirche, Judentum, und Gnosis [Herder: Freiburg, 1959] 278) that the δοῦλοι τοῦ θεοῦ are a group of ascetics is untenable in the light of total usage of the term in Hermas, notwithstanding its later use in the Western Church; cf. Brown, P., Augustine of Hippo (Berkeley/Los Angeles/London: University of California, 1975) 132ndash;37Google Scholar.
18 LSJ s.v. For usage of the term in Pauline literature, see Ellis, E. Earle, “Paul and His Co-Workers,” NTS 17 (1970/1971) 444 n. 1Google Scholar.
19 Dibelius discusses it (Der Hirt des Hermas [HNT Erganzungsband; Ap. Vater IV; Tubingen: Mohr (Siebeck), 1923] 527) as Gefangenschaft. See the discussions and refs. In A. Fridrichsen, “Zum Thema “Paulus und die Stoa,' “ConNT 9 (1944) 28–29; and E. Peterson, “Die Befreiung Adams aus der ἀνάγκη,” in Frlihkirche, Judentum, und Gnosis, 110–15. Peterson exegetes a Jewish prayer on a magical papyrus regarding the subjection of Adam to the δαίμων ἀύριοϛ… ἐν ὠρα ἀνάγκηϛ using Man. 8.10 and Sim. 1.8, among other texts. Fridrichsen is concerned with the meaning of ἀνάγκαιϛ in 2 Cor 6:4. He argues that in various contexts ἀνάγκαι refers to political, personal, or physical means of coercion (Zwangsmittel), but that in 2 Cor 6:4, coercion itself is meant. He proposes that the first triad of 6:4 is made concrete term for term in the second triad. Note that if this is true, the specification of ἐν ἀνάγκαιϛ is ἐν φυλακαῖϛ.
20 See above discussion of J Clem. 5 9.4 and n 11.
21 The exhortation to “buy afflicted souls” (ἀγοράζετε φυΞὰϛ θλιβομύναϛ) with one's extra money instead of real estate in Sim. 1.8 may mean the same. It is followed immediately by a typical “widows and orphans” clause, just as the λυτροῦσθαι clause of Man. 8.10 follows upon such an exhortation. On the other hand, too much emphasis should not be placed on the verb ἀγοράζειν as if the expression refers with certainty to the ransom of prisoners (much less to the purchase of slaves for manumission-against Bartchy, First-Century Slavery, 101). The image of purchasing land is the predominant metaphor of vss 8–9; the exhortation to spend money on “afflicted souls,” widows, and orphans extends the metaphor. Moreover, the καί between the two exhortations is not to be understood exclusively, since this is not a list of virtues. If the other two clauses in vs 8 that are introduced by καί (i.e., καὶ μὴ παραβύπετε …; καὶ τòν πλοῦτον…) can be understood in apposition to what precedes, there is no structural reason why καὶ Ξήραϛ καὶ ‘ρφανοὺϛ ἐπισκὲπτεσθε cannot also be in apposition to ἀγοράζετepsi; φυξὰϛ θλιβομύναϛ. The word θλιβóμενοϛ may well refer to prisoners, but it need not exclusively do so. Cf. the letter of Cornelius in Eus. Hist. eccl. 6.43.12, where the mid-third century Roman church is supporting (διατρύφει) more than 1500 Ξήραϛ σὺν θλιβομύνοιϛ. Διαρύφειν would not be used exclusively to denote the imprisoned. θλιβóμενοϛ is a general word for those in any kind of affliction or distress (which in the cases cited can be relieved by monetary assistance). For a social study of Christianity in Hermas, see the forthcoming study by the author in CBQMS.
22 Although not clear, the accounts seem to be describing at least two separate services, one a baptismal Eucharist, the other an ordinary Sunday Eucharist. It must be borne in mind that Justin was writing an apology, not a church order. Whatever the real purpose and audience of an apology (i.e., whether it was written more for external or internal propaganda), it is an attempt to explain belief and teaching, not to give a detailed account of liturgical procedure. For the place of Justin's liturgical descriptions in the history of the development of Christian liturgy, see Dix, G., The Shape of Liturgy (Westminster: Dacre, 1954) 107–8Google Scholar, 121–22, passim; Jungmann, J. A., The Early Liturgy: To the Time of Gregory the Great (Notre Dame, 1959) 43Google Scholar; Barnard, L. W., Justin Martyr, His Life and Thought (Cambridge, 1967) 142–46Google Scholar and references given there.
23 Two items are of special interest, though beyond the scope of this study. First, the poor who cannot afford a decent funeral have one provided by the community; Apol. 15.7–8 is one of the few literary texts that explicitly suggest that the earliest Christian communities resembled collegia funeratica or collegia tenuiorum. (Another is Tert. Apol. 39 regarding monthly contributions to a relief fund.) Partly upon this basis, T. Mommsen, G. B. de Rossi et al. formulated the now discredited theory that Christian groups acquired some legal status as this kind of collegia. As Bartchy says (First-Century Slavery, 102 n. 390) the literature on the subject is “seemingly endless.” Cf., e.g., Rossi, G. B. de, “Esame archeologico e critico della storia di S. Callisto narrata nel libro nono dei Filosofumeni,” Bull, di Arch. Crist. 4 (1866) 11, 22Google Scholar; and the refutation of the theory by J. P. Waltzing, “Collegia,” DACL 2. 2107–40. Second, when the poor are going hungry, Christians fast two or three days in order to supply them with food. Compare Herm. Sim. 5.3.7 and Didasc. 19=Ap. Const. 5.1.
24 Portion of transcribed text from papyrus MS in British Museum (early 4th cent.) ed. H. J. M. Milne, “A New Fragment of the Apology of Aristides,” JTS 25 (1923/24) 73–77.
25 Text and trans. Harmon, A. H., The Works of Lucian (LCL; Cambridge; Harvard, 1936) 5. 12–15Google Scholar.
26 Lucian of Samosata was born ca. 120 c.E. and died after 180. His subject Peregrinus Proteus is known from other sources, all less biased than Lucian: Aulus Gellius 12.11; Tatian Orat. 25; Athen. Leg. 26. There is no reason to doubt that he immolated himself at the Olympic Games in 165, thus providing a terminus a quo for Lucian's account. Cf. P. Labriolle, Le Réaction paienne: Etude sur la polémique antichrétienne du ler au Vie siècle (Paris, 1934) 101 n. 1.
27 This change in legal status stands in contrast to the sentence opus metalli in the Hadrianic period but the distinction disappears by the Severan period; so Garnsey, P., Social Status and Legal Privilege in the Roman Empire (Oxford: Clarendon, 1970) 132–33Google Scholar. Condemnation to the mines was generally reserved to tenuiores, those without social power, but as Garnsey reads the evidence, the second and third centuries tended toward harsher penalties and permitted them higher up the social scale (ibid., 152). The less severe opus publicum perpetuum or temporarium did not take away freedom (ibid., 133). Convict labor was also used to compose chain gangs for agricultural work on the latifundia. Pliny the Elder complained about the quality of their work (NH 18.6.36); Pliny the Younger refused to use them and said (Ep. 3.19.7) no one used them at the place where he was thinking of buying property (Comum or more likely Tifernum in Umbria). Cf. Duncan-Jones, R., The Economy of the Roman Empire: Quantitative Studies (Cambridge, 1974) 20, 323–24Google Scholar. Their ranks were also filled at times by kidnap victims and draft-evaders (Suet. Aug. 32; Tib. 8). For a brief account of working conditions in the mines, see Davies, O., Roman Mines in Europe (Oxford: Clarendon, 1935) 14–16, passimGoogle Scholar.
28 See discussion below of both. The complex nature and causes of persecution before Decius will never be fully understood for want of adequate evidence. That Christians were periodically imprisoned and executed is well attested, but whether this happened as a result of the exercise of ordinary legal authority, prosecution for specific crimes, or in some cases by mob violence is not at all clear. It is generally agreed, against the implication of Tertullian Apol. 5, that Nero enacted no statute upon which subsequent persecution was legally based, and that there is no evidence of an imperial edict before Decius aimed specifically at Christians. See A. N. Sherwin-White, “The Early Persecutions and Roman Law Again,” JTS n.s. 3 (1952) 199–213; Croix, G. E. M. de Ste., “Why Were the Early Christians Persecuted?” Past and Present 26 (1963) 7–38Google Scholar; Sherwin-White, “Why Were the Early Christians Persecuted?-an Amendment,” Past and Present 27 (1964) 23–27, and the “Rejoinder” by Ste. Croix, ibid., 28–33; Barnes, T. D., “Legislation against the Christians” JRS 58 (1968) 32–50Google Scholar, and Millar, F., “The Imperial Cult and the Persecutions” in he Culte des souverains dans I'Empire Romain (Entretiens sur l'antiquité classique, XIX; ed. W. den Boer; Geneva: Fondation Hardt, 1973) 143–75Google Scholar.
29 Garnsey, Social Status, 111–12.
30 Especially victims of unbalanced emperors, e.g., Caligula (Suet. Gains 27. 3–4) who condemned men of honesti ordinis to the mines, opus publicum, and the animal shows. In 177 the governor of Lugdunum distinguished among the Christians denounced to him, for the most part separating Roman citizens from non-citizens, and sent only the latter to the beasts; but to please the crowd he singled out the citizen Attalus as an exception, in spite of-or perhaps because of- his being well-known (ovofiaords) (Eus. Hist. eccl. 5.1.43, 44, 47, 51). This is only one of the interesting contradictions to the usual pattern of punishment in Christian literature: see Barnes, T. D., Tertullian (Oxford: Clarendon, 1971) 147–48Google Scholar and Garnsey, Social Status, 74–75. Ulpian (Dig. 48.13.7, quoted in Garnsey, 129 n. 2) seems to consider bestiae the least severe capital sentence for humiliores, but the evidence is inconsistent. Other forms of summum supplicium included crematio, furca, crux (abolished by Constantine), and damnatio ad gladium. See Garnsey, Social Status, 122–31. The identification of a punishment as appropriate to a particular social status began to solidify by the time of Antoninus Pius into the two categories of honestiores and humiliores for which two legal standards were applied. See the excellent study by Cardascia, G., “L'apparition dans le droit des classes d'honestiores' et d'humiliores',” Revue historique de droit français et étranger 28 (1950) 305–7, 461–85Google Scholar.
31 Pauli Sent. 5.23.15. Cf. Garnsey, Social Status, 129–31, and Sherwin-White, , The Letters of Pliny: A Historical and Social Commentary (Oxford: Clarendon, 1966) 698Google Scholar.
32 Justin Dial. 10.1–2; Eus. Hist. eccl. 5.1.9, 14, 19, 25–26 (at Lugdunum); Tert. Apol. 7.1, 8.7; Octav. Min. Felix 9.6–7, 31.1–2; Clem. Strom. 3.2.10 (of Carpocratians); Origen C. Cels. 6.40. Cf. the unconfirmed suspicions of Pliny Ep. 10. 96.7, a contemporary of Ignatius.
33 Cf. Suet. Claud. 34; for a general discussion, see: Carcopino, J., Daily Life in Ancient Rome (ed. Rowell, H. T.; New Haven: Yale, 1945) 243–44Google Scholar. Seneca (Ep. 7.3–6) complains of the bad effect on the spectators of seeing unarmed people killed: in the morning they are thrown to the lions and bears, but at noon to the spectators!
34 Noxius refers to any criminal but in popular usage meant someone condemned ad bestias: Suet. Calig. 27; Claud. 34; Nero 12; Vit. 17 (cf. Lewis and Short s.v.).
35 See discussion by T. Mommsen in “Observationes Epigraphicae: XLI. Senatus Consultum de Sumptibus Ludorum Gladiatoriorum Minuendis; factum A. P. C. 176/7” (Ephemeris Epigraphica 7 [1888] 407–15) of a senatusconsultum of 177/180 which among other things fixed a price ceiling for the purchase of noxii by private procurators at HS600 (600 sesterces) (ILS 5163, 11.57–58). See also the re-edited text, translation, and commentary by J. H. Oliver and R. E. A. Palmer, “Minutes of an Act of the Roman Senate,” Hesperia 24 (1955) 320–49, and further bibliography, 327–28. More discussion below at n. 46.
36 Eus. Hist. eccl. 4.19 and 5.1.1 date Soter's episcopate from the 8th to the 17th year of Marcus Aurelius (169–177 c.E.). There is a problem of church office titles, for Eus. 4.19 says the letter of Dionysius is addressed to bishop Soter (ἐπιστολέ … ἐπισκóπω τóτε Σωτῆρι προσφωνοῦσα) but the extant part of the letter is addressed to a plural readership and refers to Soter in the third person, as bishop, however, and with paternal imagery (ὠ … πατὴρφιλóστοργοϛ). But in a letter of Irenaeus to Victor perhaps twenty years later (Hist. eccl. 5.24.14), Soter's predecessors and presumably Soter himself are called πρεσβύτεροι which to Irenaeus may be simply a title of respect, not of office.
37 Literally, supplies for a journey: “ways and means, maintenance” (LSJ s.v.); used in a spiritual sense in 1 Clem. 2.1.
38 The structure of the first part of the quotation from Dionysius's letter, ἐθϛ ἐστίν … μὲν ἀδελφούϛ … εὐεργετεῖν , ἐκκλησίαιϛ τε … πύμπειν, ὠδν … ἀναφύξουταϛ δύ … ἐπιξορηγοῦνταϛ suggests that relief to the needy and those in the mines may be provided not directly but by sending contributions to the local ἐκκλησία which channels them where needed. In the case of those in the mines it cannot be assumed that they come only from the area to which money or supplies are sent; they could come from anywhere in the Empire. The text indicates that an inter-community network of relief existed to assist Christians wherever they were. The phenomenon is related to Paul's collection for Palestine in 2 Corinthians W. Bauer's suggestion (Orthodoxy and Heresy in Earliest Christianity [ed. R. Kraft and G. Krodel; Philadelphia: Fortress, 1971] 121–27) that such contributions from the Roman community were intended to bribe factions which it wished to support and influence has not been substantiated.
39 “Bound by ten ‘leopards' (i.e., a company of soldiers)”-δεδεμύνοϛ δύκα λεοπάρδοιϛ, ' ἐστιν στρατiota;ωτικòν τάγμα(Rom. 5.1). This is the first mention of “leopards” in classical literature, and the connection with a company of soldiers is obscure, but some representations of standardbearers on Trajan's column and one statue of a possible signifer in the Bonn Museum exhibit a cowl consisting of a leopard's head and claws over the helmet. Cf. J. DeVito, “The Leopards of Ignatius of Antioch (Rom. 5.1)” Classical Bulletin 50 (1974) 63.
40 Eus. Hist. eccl. 3.22, 36; Jerome Vir. ill. 16. J. B. Lightfoot (The Apostolic Fathers, 2.1, 470), after an interminable discussion on the non-historicity of the Acta of Ignatius, dates his martydrom from 100–118 CE,
41 Cf. the bribery of prison guards by sympathizers of Proteus (Lucian Pereg. 12); the unsuccessful attempts to secure the bodies of the martyrs at Lugdunum through bribery (Eus. Hist. eccl. 5.1.61); or the instance of bribery of guards as one of the ways to help imprisoned Christians (Didasc. 19, par. Ap. Const. 5.1.1). Ignatius was visited at Smyrna by delegations from Ephesus (Eph. 1.2, 3; 2.1), Magnesia (Magn. 2-simultaneously with the Ephesian delegation, Magn. 15) and Tralles (Trail. 1.1; 12.1). He wrote to Rome and to a large number of the Smyrnaean Christians (Stnyrn. 13; Pol. 8.2, 3. Tavia in Smyrn. 13.2 is perhaps to be identified with the wife of Epitropos in Pol. 8.2). At Troas he received at least a local delegation (Phld. 11.2) and had time to write to the Philadelphians (ibid.) and the Smyrnaeans (Smyrn. 12.1). An additional letter to Polycarp was written either from Troas or from Neapolis on the east coast of Macedonia (Pol. 8.1) but presumably would have been sent from Troas with the other letter to Smyrna. A reconstruction of the chain of messengers spoken of by Ignatius gives the impression of a highly developed network of communication among the churches of western Asia Minor and between Smyrna and Antioch in Syria (Smyrn. 11.1; Pol. 7.1). Lucian's connection of Christians in Syria with those in Asia half a century later (Pereg. 13) is perhaps not far-fetched. It must also be remembered that the seven extant letters of Ignatius probably indicate only a fraction of his communication during his final journey (cf. Rom. 4.1; Pol. 8.1).
42 Further, for Ignatius the word ἀγάπη means the love-feast or common meal of the community in Smyrn. 8.2 and probably Rom. 7.3. In Smyrn. 6.2 it may mean the love-feast, the general virtue of love, or a generic term for the works of charity. See n. 15.
43 There is Digest evidence that metallum in the second century took away freedom (Garnsey, Social Status, 132 n. 2) and was considered a lighter penalty than the death sentence (ibid., n. 1). A liber who became a gladiator by sententia publica also lost his freedom (Mommsen, “Observationes Epigraphicae,” 410 n. 2). It is possible that the term servus poenae was not used before Antoninus Pius, but the custom of confiscating property of the condemned into the Fiscus was in effect long before; despite the claim of the Hist. Aug. (Hadr. 7.7) that Hadrian attempted to stop the practice, all evidence indicates that it continued (Garnsey, Social Status, 165).
44 See Mommsen, “Observationes Epigraphicae,” 409. However, the phrase nisi iuraverit in line 58, interpreted thus by Mommsen, is not read at all by Oliver and Palmer (see n. 35) in their transcription!
45 E.g., see Garnsey, Social Status, 69 n. 1; 165 n. 3. The reservation of such cases to the emperor resulted from a gradual process of usurpation of authority from the Senate and governors that was already well-developed by the second century (cf. ibid., 165 n. 2). Mommsen (“Observationes Epigraphicae,” 408 n. 5) cites two instances in which an emperor pardoned noxii who had fought well before him: Tac. Ann. 12.56; Aulus Gellius 5.14.17, 19. The former included all the participants in a huge mock naval battle and was probably a whim of Claudius and Agrippina; the latter is an incident in the saga of Androcles and his lion friend, of doubtful historical reliability.
46 See n. 35. It is enlightening to compare the amount to the maximum legal compensation for a regular slave at roughly the same time: HS 2000 (CIL 8. 23956 and digest texts; see Duncan- Jones, Economy, 12, 348–49 for refs.). Mommsen (“Observationes Epigraphicae,” 408–9) interprets this piece of legislation to apply only to the sale of convicts by provincial procurators to private dealers for games not subsidized by the imperial government. If this is true, the case does not apply directly to Ignatius who is being taken by soldiers to Rome. The relevant passage in the SC also refers specifically to damnati ad gladium, but the difference between the sentences ad gladium and ad bestias is not great; both are capital sentences. If anything, a distinction was made at some point between sentences appropriate for free and slave respectively (Mommsen, “Observationes Epigraphicae,” 407 n. 7-but this is a much later text).
47 For evidence of a second-century inflation of prices, see Duncan-Jones, Economy, 7–10, 225, 356–57.
48 See n. 30.
49 Eus. Hist. eccl. 3.18; Hipp. Re/. 9.12. In the latter case, Marcia obtained the release of those in metallum, generally considered a sentence less severe than certain death by execution. Cf. Garnsey, Social Status, 103; Mommsen, “Observationes Epigraphicae,” 410 n. 1.
50 See Lewis and Short, “sestertius,” s.v. A denarius or drachma was approximately four times a sestertius, and one-fourth a sestertium (1000 sesterces). Though the drachma and the denarius under the Empire were supposedly of nearly equal value (except the Alexandrian dr. = ¼ den), A. H. M. Jones (“Slavery in the Ancient World,” 193–94) argues that the imperial denarius actually had more purchasing power than the drachma in a ratio of 3:5. The figures, however, are open to many other variables since they span four centuries.
51 See the list given in Duncan-Jones, Economy, 348–49. For a collection of bill-of-sale texts, see C. G. Bruns, Fontes Iuris Romani Antiqui (Tübingen, 1909) #130–32. The prices given (all mid-second century) are: #130: 600 den. for a puer (HS 2400); #131: 205 den. for a puella (HS 820); #132: 420 den. for an ancilla (HS 1680). These prices are a far cry from the income of a day laborer but not unreasonable for a moderately successful merchant or slave-agent with a peculium. See the wage estimates for workers in Duncan-Jones, Economy, 11–12, 54. His estimate of HS 3 per day in second-century Rome correlates with Lucian s amount of four obols (Timon 6.12; Epist. Saturn. 21) apparently for hired agricultural laborers. 4 obols = ⅔ den. = 2⅔ sesterces. It is true that fabulous prices were sometimes paid for exceptional slaves. Education, talent, loyalty and dedication, usefulness and profitableness of one kind or another made a few slaves literally worth a fortune. Pliny the Elder (NH 7.128–29) says the highest known price of a slave before his time was HS 700,000 for a grammaticus. In his own day, he continues, this sum has been surpassed by actors who buy their own manumission, e.g., Roscius who earns HS 500,000 a year. But someone in his price range bears no comparison to the common slave. Pliny goes on to cite the HS 13,000,000 paid to Nero for Tiridates, sed hoc pretium belli non hominis fuit; similarly, one of Sejanus's eunuchs was sold for HS 50,000,000, (pretium) libidinis, non formae. Thus by Pliny's own admission these two cases are not to be considered for any comparative price range. This is not made clear in the list of slave prices given by A. M. Duff in his classic study, Freedmen in the Early Roman Empire (Oxford: Clarendon, 1928) 17–18. Jones (“Slavery,” above, n. 109) provides the ordinary prices which range from 200 to 700 den. See also Westermann, Slave Systems, 100–101. The second century may have been the time at which slave prices reached the highest point, thereafter to give way gradually to cheaper hired labor. Ibid., 197 and Finley, , The Ancient Economy (Berkeley/Los Angeles: University of California, 1973) 86–87Google Scholar.
52 The question of voluntary martyrdom surfaces regularly in the literature of early Christianity. In the case of Ignatius there was apparently no overt criticism, at least not preserved. The Martyrdom of Polycarp 4 and Acts of Cyprian 1.6 expressly forbid voluntary surrender to the authorities. There is of course a considerable ideological difference between voluntary arrest in these cases and refusing the offer of release in the case of Ignatius. For a discussion of voluntary martyrdom see G. E. M. de Ste. Croix, “Aspects of the ‘Great' Persecution,” HTR 47 (1954) 83 n. 40.
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