Epistle 2, Saturday, 11 July 2009: On the Road to Myanmar

Besides catching my breath today from yesterday’s travel, a group of about eight of us went to see “The Grand Palace.”  This palace is actually a complex of buildings built around the late 1700s.  It contains a royal residence, some government offices and especially noteworthy the Temple of the Emerald Buddha.

What is most striking are the colors found in the architecture.  The vivid and bold colors capture an onlooker so that one’s eye is constantly taking in an array of bright and bold colors.  In fact, the style and construction may give an observer sensory overload.  The picture below gives a good example.

Other interesting aspects on the grounds of the complex were the statues related to the myths associated with Buddha.  Many of the images/statues depict the combination of both animal and human figures together.  For Western eyes these images combining humans and birds or humans and lions, as the pictures note below, may appear grotesque.

I am reminded, however, of the very interesting hybrids found in Revelation.  Particularly striking is the image in Revelation 9:7-10:   “In appearance the locusts were like horses equipped for battle. On their heads were what looked like crowns of gold; their faces were like human faces, ⁸ their hair like women’s hair, and their teeth like lions’ teeth; ⁹ they had scales like iron breastplates, and the noise of their wings was like the noise of many chariots with horses rushing into battle. ¹⁰ They have tails like scorpions, with stingers, and in their tails is their power to harm people for five months.”

My sense is that this image would not strike Buddhists as that unusual or strange.  Finding points of connection are always helpful in dialogues with those of different traditions.

Epistle 1, July 9 and 10: On the Road to Myanmar

I have arrived in Bangkok, and I am writing this blog entry after having finished 18 hours of air time and 7 hours of waiting around time.  I have been up for the last 30 hours.  Of course this seems exhausting, until one considers the time it took Adoniran Judson to get to Southeast Asia.  He left on February 19, 1812 and arrived June 12, 1812.  Four months!  This puts my 30 hours in perspective.  One should never complain about traveling today.  I always consider it a major magical that in less than 24 hours I have been in Kansas City, Chicago, Shanghai and finally Bangkok.

One interesting aspect of the trip was the concern over the Swine Flu.  Upon landing in Shanghai, we were not allowed to leave our seats until each person has his or her temperature taken.  On to the plane came two sets of technicians clothed like they were out of the science fiction movie.

All you could see were their eyes.  They used lasers across our foreheads to check our temperatures.  If someone had an elevated temperature they then used a thermometer.  If that person failed, then he or she was quarantined immediately.  Evidently, I was a perfect 98.6 degrees.

One other thought struck me as I was waiting in the Shanghai Airport:  the bilingual signs.  The photo below is an example.

It reminded me of the first-century (and what does remind me in some way about that pivotal point in history).  The world of the NT was bilingual with Latin and Greek.  While the sign illustrates the official government language of China is Chinese, the language that will speak to most people is English.  In the ancient world it was Greek.  Even though Jesus spoke and taught in Aramaic and lived far the centers of culture and power, he probably knew enough Greek to get by.

For the next two days, Saturday and Sunday, we will be in Bangkok.  We will have the opportunity to see some of the sights of this ever expanding city and to see some of the Baptist work that is happening.

Travel and Teaching in Myanmar

In less than two weeks, I will be in traveling to Myanmar (Burma) to teach at the Myanmar Institute of Theology (MIT), July 9 to August 1. This experience will be a unique opportunity for me, and I plan on sharing blog reflections on the theological and religious context of my teaching and my travels in Myanmar.  For some initial thoughts on my preparation, you might want to check out a piece I wrote for Central Seminary’s webpage:  “On the Road to Myanmar.”

This opportunity arises because MIT and Central Seminary are working on partnership relationships related to curriculum and for the exchange of students and professors.  I am traveling to Myanmar with the help of the Alice and Gam Shae Partnership.  The Shaes have had a long history of ministry in Southeast Asia, and at one time Dr. Gam Shae was also a professor of New Testament at Central Seminary.  The nascent relationship between MIT and Central has also received the good news of a grant from the Luce Foundation.  This grant is designed to help sustain a long-term collaborative relationship between Central and MIT.

For some basic information about the Myanmar Institute of Theology, check out their website:  Myanmar Institute of Theology.

My travel this summer is a reminder of the many opportunities to partner with theological institutions around the world.  One of the excellent blogs I follow is “Theologian without Borders.” It links theological educators with opportunities for international teaching.

Presenting a Paper at the SBL

My paper was accepted for the Society of Biblical Literature Annual meeting in New Orleans in November.  The paper will be in the program unit “John’s Apocalypse and Cultural Contexts Ancient and Modern.”  The paper title and abstract is below.  For time to time, I will post regarding progress on the paper.

Revelation 17:10-11:  The Identity of the Seven Kings Through Roman Imperial Coinage

The identity of the seven kings in Rev. 17:10-11 is an enigma for interpreters of the Apocalypse.  Frederick J. Murphy declared, “. . .  the variety of solutions that have been proposed show that, even more than with the number 666, the impulse to ‘decode’ the seven kings is doomed to failure” (Fall Is Babylon, 360). This paper presents a more optimistic hope for success by proposing a new approach to this problematic passage: numismatic evidence.

Titus Flavius Vespasianus (38-81 CE) succeeded his father, Vespasian, on June 23, 79 CE.  In becoming Augustus, Titus ruled for twenty-seven months (79-81 CE) and issued a series of unusual coins frequently labeled as “restoration” coins.  These coins are always bronze (sestertius, dupondius, and as) and used motifs drawn from the past coinage of the Julio-Claudians.  On these restoration coins, Titus honored four emperors from the past and then adds his father’s own special divus coins:  (1) Augustus, (2) Tiberius, (3) Claudius, (4) Galba, and (5) Vespasian.

While scholars have speculated about where to begin and/or end the count of emperors, who to include, and who to excluded, the restorations coins solve the problem.  The wide distributed and readily seen restoration coins bearing the images of these five emperors presents a natural identity for the fallen kings of the Apocalypse. The one who is, the sixth, therefore, represents the current emperor Titus, and thus helps to date the Apocalypse to his reign.   The seventh, the one who has not come, was Domitian

In Remembrance: Library Checkout Cards

I had a fondness for the checkout cards found carefully enveloped at the back of most library books.  They have been dead for awhile, killed by efficiency and technology.

Ubiquitous Bar Code

The checkout card was simple and symbolic.  To sign the card with my signature was, of course, on the most basic level a way for the library to have accountability; I had taken the book.  However, signing one’s name to any document creates a relationship and a commitment.  By signing my name to a library book, I committed myself to some type of relationship with this author and material.   Scanning a bar code does not have the same connection.   Signing the checkout card could mean an intimate relationship–late nights, rereading passages, and anticipation.  At other times, the commit was more platonic, and it could even border on benign neglect.   However, the signature on that thin blue line and the rubber stamped date beside it was an inked contract with this book. 

I was reminded of this physical connection with books when I recently checked out a book which still had a checkout card at the back.  As patrons checked out unbar coded books, the old cards were removed and new electronic tags were placed on the books.  I always glance at the names of those who had read a book in the past.   The thing about signing your name to a library card was that it was permanent; it could be there for decades.   In looking down though the names on this card, since the book was in a seminary library where I teach, I recognized many of the later names.   I was always glad to see names on checkout cards, because it meant students were reading.  It is a lonely and sad book that had no names on its dance card. 

One of  the names on this particular card was a former student who had since passed away.  I thought about him holding this book, turning pages and listening to its words.   It was a sense of connection through a mutually shared object.  For most of the objects we handle each day, we have no idea of their past, but for library books  you could look at the checkout card and see a host of readers with whom you were now joined.

I miss library checkout cards.

Of Shipwrecks and Coins

The narrative of Paul’s shipwreck (Acts 27:1-28:16) is one of the outstanding stories in the New Testament. As is quite fitting, studies on this passage often turn to literary works in the ancient world for details related to sea travel and shipwrecks. Evidently these narratives were quite popular. And of course, there are the archaeological remains of shipwrecks; first-century shipwrecks dot the bottom of the Mediterranean Sea. I certainly would not have wanted to insure a ship in the first century.

One might also at least give a brief nod to a little considered source for shipwrecks in the ancient world and that is the iconography found on ancient Roman coins. Actually ship motifs were a popular reverse type found on many Roman imperial coins. Yet reverses related to shipwrecks are, of course, difficult to find. Actually the ability to correlate reverses on Roman coins with specific events is extremely difficult; unfortunately we have little knowledge what provoked most of the images on coin reverses.  However, one coin minted under Marcus Aurelius (121-180 C.E.) probably does reference a shipwreck, one that the emperor was luck to have survived. The coin below illustrates this event.

This coin is a dupondius.  The obverse is the laureate head right of Marcus Aurelius.  The inscription reads M ANTONINVS AVG GERM SARM TRP XXXI.  The reverse depicts a galley with four rowers sailing right.  The god Neptune is before them (in the coin Neptune has been decapitated because of the hole).  The inscription reads FELICITATI AVG P P.    The inscription would translate as something like “to the good luck of the Augustus, Father of the Country.”

The record of this shipwreck come from Historia Augustus (a late fourth-century document), “Life of Marcus,” chapter XXVII:  “After settling affairs in the East he came to Athens and had himself initiated into the Eleusinian Mysteries . . . . Afterwards, when returning to Italy by ship, he encountered a violent storm on the way.  Then, upon reaching Italy by way of Brundisium, he donned the toga, and bade his troops do likewise . . . . When he reached Rome he triumphed . . . Presently he appointed Commodus his colleague in the tribunician power, bestowed largess upon the people, and celebrated marvelous games . . . “

The event of the shipwreck must have happened around the fall of 176 C.E. when the Emperor was returning from the east.  These coins were probably minted around the end of 176 and may have been presented as good-luck presents on 1 January 177.  The holed nature of this coin may indicate that it was used as a good luck charm, maybe by someone who was a frequent traveler via the Mediterranean Sea.  Perhaps it was holed by a servant or soldier who was on board this galley and survived.

This coin is a tangible example of the precarious nature of sea travel, even for those at the top  of the hierarchy of power.  The Emperor credited his salvation from a near disaster by the hands of the gods Neptune and Felicitas.  Paul in his own shipwreck owed his salvation to an intervention and revelation from God:   “For this very night there stood by me an angel of the God to whom I belong and whom I worship, and he said, ‘Do not be afraid, Paul; you must stand before Caesar; and lo, God has granted you all those who sail with you’” (Acts 27:23-24).

One last interesting reference to gods in relationship to Paul’s shipwreck is that the ship that eventually conveyed Paul to Italy was “a ship of Alexandria with the Twin Brothers as figure-head” (Acts 28:11b).  The Twin Brothers are Castor and Pollux and are often called the Dioscuri.  These two gods were  a frequent motif on Roman coins.  The denarius below from the Roman Republic (46 B.C.E.) illustrates an example of the Dioscuri.

The Write Word

I know it has been ages since I have written a blog entry.  The reason is simple, the school year has begun.  I have been in the midst of both creating and teaching a computer mediated course in New Testament.  The time requirements are huge (along with other on campus courses).  However, in the midst of this semester, I am going to attempt occasional blog entries.

Because of a study I am scheduled to do, I have been reading in C.F.D. Moule’s The Holy Spirit a little book published in 1978 by A.R. Mowbray & Co. and then by Eerdmans.  Since Moule’s relatively recent death, I have been going back and rereading some of his works.   In The Holy Spirit, Moule ends with an “Epilogue.”  It is a single paragraph, but this paragraph carries a perspective that all of us who write for a vocation would do well to remember.  It is quoted in part below:

“Any serious investigation into a great and important subject is bound to land itself in a tangle of words.  Words are feeble things–never adequate for the job; yet priceless things–seldom dispensable.  They are dangerous things, for they are so fascinating that they tempt the user to linger with them and treat them as ends instead of means.  But the Word became flesh; and a word that is not in some way implemented goes sour and becomes a liability instead of an asset.”

Moule ends the paragraph with what is a prayer for mercy for all writers and readers:

“But if it [the book] has only confused the reader, or tempted him to go on weaving words instead of entering more richly into the experience they serve to define–God forgive us both!” (p. 97).

The Year A.D. 69

In the first century, each year holds it own interest and special fascination, but 69 CE is of special interest because it is often designated as the year of the four emperors.  A recent book on the topic is by Gwyn Morgan, 69 A.D.:  The Year of the Four Emperors (Oxford:  Oxford University Press, 2006).  Morgan writes a running commentary on the gaining (and in three cases losing) the purple as represented by Galba, Otho, Vitellius and Vespasian.  He utilizes five sources Tacitus, Suetonius (Roman), Plutarch, Dio Cassius (Greek), and Josephus (Judean).  He especially focuses on Tacitus’ accounts (Josephus is cited the least). 

I am always interested in how a scholar utilizes numismatics in reconstructions and interprets the past.  Morgan downplays almost all numismatic evidence.  As he notes, ‘The most eye-catching artifacts to have come down to us, . . . the coins struck by the emperors, remain our least helpful guides to specific events despite all the work devoted to them by numismatists” (p. 3).  While coins may not on every occasion give reference to specific events, they do give an overall sense of the propaganda that emperors attempted to distribute to the general public.  Morgan is very dismissive of the propaganda element saying, “. . . the minting authority was conveying some kind of general message, and apparently the consumer was supposed to swallow this message without demur, but that is about all we can say” (p.3).  He is selling short what we can say and reasonably know about the messages imperial coinage conveyed. 

Morgan, whose interest is focused on the literary documentation, illustrates his lack of numismatic insight when he does on the rare occasion make mention of numismatic references.  For example, he writes, “The question is for whom the message on the denarii was meant.  Silver coinage was hardly seen by the common people. Mostly it ended up in the hands of the soldiery and the of the upper classes” (p. 97).  This assertion seems easily refuted.  When troops did have silver, they did spend it, and it did make its way into circulation among the non-elites.  Also here is just one easily found example of where non-elites possess denarii.  In the Gospel of Matthew 20:1-15 is the parable of the “Workers in the Vineyard.”  In this well known parable, day laborers, probably dispossessed landless peasants, are hired to work in a vineyard.  This group would be on one of the lowest levels of non-elites; without land, they are nobodies and very vulnerable.  Yet each laborer in the parable at the end of day will possess a denarius. 

Even though Morgan has little use for numismatics, his book is a fine survey of the events of this crucial year in the first century.  It is worth the read for orienting a reader to the dynamics within the context of the Empire.  If one especially likes British linguistic eccentricities, which I do, this book is also interesting since Morgan frequently throws in Britishism, such as “lickspittle.”  Try to find a way this week to work this word into your conversation.

Cappadocia and the NT World

It has been awhile since I noted a numismatic point of interest related to the New Testament.  The coin below is one that stimulated my thinking along several different trajectories related to first century and the New Testament. 

This coin is a silver drachm.  The obverse is the laurate head of Vespasian (69-79 CE) and the reverse depicts Mount Argaeus.  On the summit of the mountain is Helios with a radiate crown; he is standing left and holding a globe in the right hand and a sceptre in the left.  (There are two scratches in the field on the reverse). The coin was minted in the Roman province of Cappadocia at Caesarea around 75-76 CE. 

Cappadocia (earlier called Mazaka and today known as Kayseri) is mentioned twice in the NT, Acts 2:9 and 1 Peter 1:1.  The iconography of the coin provides a subtle look into the NT world.  Especially for Judeans living in the Diaspora, the portrait of the emperor Vespasian would certainly bring to mind the destruction of the Temple in Jerusalem that occurred only a few years earlier.  In fact a specific legion that had participated in the Jewish War was relocated for punishment to the province of Cappadocia.  Josephus records this account in The Jewish War, 7:3, “Recollecting too that the twelfth legion [the Fulminata] had under the command of Cestius succumbed to the Jews, he [Titus] banished them from Syria altogether–for they had previously been quartered at Raphanaeae–and sent them to the district call Melitene, beside the Euphrates, on the confines of Armenia and Cappadocia.”   

It has been suggested that bulk of imperial coinage circulating in Asia Minor was supplied from the time of Tiberius to the time of Gordian III by the mint at Caesarea.  The importance of this fact is that the coins and their accompanying images would have easily circulated in the first century through many of the cities in which the early Jesus movement was being established.  Some of these cities would certainly have included the seven cities noted in the Apocalypse. 

The most prominent image on the reverse is perhaps the god Helios (Sol) standing on Mount Argaeus with a radiate crown and holding a globe and sceptre (E. A. Sydenham, The Coinage of Caesarea in Cappadocia [London, 1933], 10).  The description of the Son of Man in Revelation 1:12-16 includes a figure that might call to mind Helios, “and his face like the sun shines in its power” (16b).  As is typical many commentaries go to literary sources to find the background or allusion to this image.  David Aune is typical, Revelation, WBC, vol. 1, page 99; e.g., Dan 10:6.  But the combination of the rest of the features of the Son of Man, i.e., bronze feet, and the seven stars in his hand, might also call to mind this statue on Mount Argaeus.  (Mount Argaeus is often portrayed with a star a top it). One might also consider that Mount Argaeus was the highest mountain in Asia Minor and was covered by snow year round.  The image of snow is also associated with the Son of Man. 

Some have suggest that the figure is not a representation of Helios but the Genius or Spirit of Argaeus (Peter Lewis and Ron Bolden, The Pocket Guide to Saint Paul: Coins Encountered by the Apostle on His Travels [Wakefield, 2002], 67).  It could be that the Romans were attempting to bring about a synthesis of Jupiter, Helios and Argaeus via the image of the radiated statue on the mountain.  Whatever the exact identity of the figure on Mt. Argaeus, the Son of Man would certainly stand in antithesis to this image.

Table of Contents for Journals

One of my most pleasant memories while working on my PhD at Southern Seminary in Louisville, KY, (1984-1987) was taking one or two days a month and spending the entire day simply reading a variety of journals.  I would go to the second floor of the James P. Boyce Library and start with A and work my way to Z.  I picked up journals and read articles I never would have encountered in my particular discipline of NT.  To sample the variety of articles on that second floor was to know what it was to be surrounded by a great cloud of witnesses.  Now, at least partially, this same experience is available online.  It is found in the database “Table of Contents for Journals” at the Boyce Library.  I have also provided a link in my website.  One can only hope for the day, which hopefully is not far off, when not just the “Table of Content” but every article can be easily and quickly accessed.