James F. Strange<\/b><\/p>\n
[James F. Strange is Dean of the College of Arts and Letters, University of South Florida, Tampa, Florida.]<\/i><\/p>\n
ONE has several options in examining early church history. First he or she needs to define the objectives of the study. But, with those firmly in hand, one then needs to decide what to allow as \u201cevidence.\u201d It is my contention, and more and more the contention of many others in diverse disciplines, that we will approach history most profitably from many dimensions. In fact I would appeal to Wilhelm Dilthey as a spiritual forbear in my attempt to develop a comprehensive understanding of culture and history, \u201c… die Totalit\u00e4t der Erlebnisse nach dem Strukturzusammenhang\u201d (Dilthey 1961: 279). It was he who pointed out, long before it was fashionable, that the Geist of a country, region, or century impressed itself upon literature, art, monuments, and tools, but also, I would add, on clothing, graffiti, culinary arts, and road systems (His \u201cLebensaeusserungen\u201d of the third type, Dilthey 1961: 205ff.; Ermarth 1978: 272f.).<\/p>\n
In other words, to understand something so difficult to define as \u201cearly Christianity,\u201d we consider at least two kinds of evidence. The literary evidence is traditionally what the specialist focuses upon. Remains of the material culture, again by tradition, engage the attention of someone else.<\/p>\n
One must enter one caveat about that: Literary traditions in the nature of the case tend to canonize their own ideas, perceptions, understandings, and prejudices. Therefore, since the production of literature in the ancient world involved the investment of considerable training, time, education, and energy, it is in the nature of the case elitist, and therefore limited in its view. One implication is that, if we wish to gain a more comprehensive understanding of any ancient phenomenon of mankind, we dare not rely solely on the literature. In other words, we take seriously the fact that the working ideologies of a people, their values, religious views, and beliefs will leave their imprints on the material culture. As Dilthey indicated, monuments themselves are embodiments of values, not merely of planning (\u201cThe Wirkungszusammenhang\u201d is permeated by values, Dilthey 1961: 155).<\/p>\n
Since the writer is not an expert in the literature of the early centuries in Judaism and Christianity, he will confine his remarks to the kind of deductions that archaeolgists are more accustomed to make. In other words, <\/p>\n
BSP<\/i> 12:3-4 (Summer-Autumn 1983) p. 115<\/p>\n
this paper will attempt to infer some patterns of belief, value, and ideology from the archaeological record of earliest Christianity in Palestine and simply present it. It is not beyond conception that this may be helpful to someone who specializes in the literary traditions of the religious movement. That is, it may be that certain patterns discernable in the material remains will expand and supplement those made from the ancient literature.<\/p>\n
The Archaeoligical Remains of Christianity at Nazareth<\/b><\/p>\n
Beneath the imposing Basilica of the Annunciation of Nazareth are remains that indicate early Christian veneration of the site (Bagatti 1969). These include a small cave beneath the north aisle of the fifth century Byzantine church and a ritual bath or mikveh,<\/i> ordinarily associated with early Judaism, that lay beneath the nave of the same church. The south stylobate was discovered to be a preexisting wall simply re-used. Other fragments of walls from a pre-Byzantine structure did not escape the archaeologist\u2019s spade.<\/p>\n
The Byzantine church was oriented east-west, as usual. Interestingly enough the fragment of a mosaic floor in the nave was oriented north<\/i>. It contained a large cross in a wreath. The craftsman worked the letter rho<\/i> into this equal-armed cross, a chi-rho<\/i> monogram. This mosaic fragment is about six by fifteen feet in extent. It appears to date to the fourth century, judging from the material sealed beneath it, therefore it antedates the building of the church (Bagatti 1969: 97\u2013100).<\/p>\n
Directly north of this fragment of mosaic six rock-cut steps lead down to a small cave of three chambers (Bagatti 1969: 100\u2013103, 174\u2013218). The floor of the first chamber of the cave is about four feet below the level of the nave. This chamber is paved with a mosaic about nine feet from north to south. To the east it is now destroyed after about nine feet, so its original length is unknown. It seems not to have exceeded 18 feet in length.<\/p>\n
This mosaic contains an inscription, \u201cOFFERING OF CONON, DEACON OF JERUSALEM\u201d: ΠΡ[οσφορα] ΚΩΝΩ\/ΝΟΣ ΔΙΑΚ[ονου] ΙΕΡΟ\/ΣΟΛΥΜΩΝ. The excavators assume that this Conon is a namesake of the famous martyr of Nazareth killed under Decius in Pamphylia in Asia Minor (Bagatti 1969: 16).<\/p>\n
Due north of the inscription of Conon is a small cave, pointed at the back. It measures only 15 x 7\u00bd feet, or less than thirteen square yards in area. Masons plastered its walls no less than six times in antiquity. Since the third coat of plaster contained a coin of the young, beardless Constantine, plasterings one and two must have antedated the fourth century, though how much it is difficult to say. The earliest plaster includes an inscription painted in red (a dipinto) that seems to be a petition to \u201cChrist Lord\u201d to \u201csave your servant Valeria\u201d (Bagatti 1969: 151). The rest is fragmented.<\/p>\n
BSP<\/i> 12:3-4 (Summer-Autumn 1983) p. 116<\/p>\n
The excavator thinks the inscription dates to the \u201cearly Christian centuries.\u201d The shapes of the letters lead one to conclude that the inscription is third century.<\/p>\n
North-east of the Conon mosaic is yet another cave, this time provided with a rock-cut apse at its east end. The previous small cave is today called \u201cthe martyrium,\u201d as the excavators believed that it commemorated the martyrdom of Conon of Nazareth. The larger cave is called \u201cthe Grotto of the Annunciation,\u201d as local tradition associates it with the events of Luke 1:26\u201338. Its measurements are about sixteen by nineteen feet. Nothing in the cave is datable. The existence of this cave and others does suggest to us, however, that early Christian churches tended to be erected over small caves (Bagatti 1971b: 112\u2013136; Testa 1964a; Testa 1964b).<\/p>\n
Let us return to the mosaic fragment in the middle of the nave of the Byzantine church. When this mosaic was lifted, the workers discovered an ancient basin, a ritual bath mentioned above (Bagatti 1969: 119\u2013123; Testa 1969: 10\u201353). Its builders cut it out of the bedrock, a cube about six feet on a side. A set of seven steps led down westward into the bath on its south side. It is clear that the masons who cut the basin were careful to construct precisely seven steps. Five of them they cut from the living rock, while the top two, above ground, they constructed of stones and mortar. The inside northeast corner they provided with a quarter-round sump for the remnants of water when it was cleaned.<\/p>\n
This ritual bath stands very close to a preexisting wall, that is, it antedated the Byzantine church. The wall was reused as the south stylobate of the church, as indicated above. Yet the ritual bath is oriented neither with the Byzantine church nor with the wall reused as the church\u2019s stylobate. It is about 11\u00b0-12\u00b0 out of orientation with the stylobate wall, which suggests that it was built at an even earlier date.<\/p>\n
We have then three periods represented: (1) The first is the period of construction and initial use of the ritual bath. We will return to this structure later. (2) The second is the construction of the building whose south wall was reused as the stylobate of the fifth century church. (3) Finally we have the period of construction and use of the Byzantine church, surely fifth century to seventh century.<\/p>\n
But what is the character of the stage 2 building? We have already indicated that it contained a mosaic oriented to the north with a chi-rho<\/i> cross in its center. Thus this structure appears to be oriented north-south, which is 90\u00b0 out of phase with the usual orientation of churches in the ancient world. Furthermore the excavators insist that pieces of painted plaster found in the fill inside the ritual bath are from this church. They happen to have graffiti with fragments of words in Greek and Syriac. One Greek graffito may be read Κυριε Χριστε, but a \u201cK\u201d is superimposed on a \u201cX\u201d, which is an otherwise unattested abbreviation. The Syriac reads \u201cJohn\u201d, \u201cAmun\u201d, and \u201cMary\u201d (Bagatti 1969: 127\u20139).<\/p>\n
BSP<\/i> 12:3-4 (Summer-Autumn 1983) p. 117<\/p>\n
Just south of the later Byzantine church was a contemporary Byzantine convent (Bagatti 1969: 93\u201397; 105\u20138). In the fill of room \u201ci,\u201d sealed beneath mosaic fragment 9, they recovered many fragments of painted plaster similar to those in the fill in the basin. Thirteen coins were too corroded to identify with confidence, but they seem to date to the late fourth or early fifth century C.E.. This suggests that they and the other contents of the fill beneath room \u201ci\u201d were deposited when the Byzantine church was built, destroying earlier structures on its site. The excavators also turned up many pieces of one centimeter thick polished marble, which suggests that the earlier building had been marble faced. The surprise finds were about seventy architectural fragments, most probably from this earlier building (Bagatti 1969: 138\u2013146; figs. 84\u201397).<\/p>\n
These fragments include five bases, several column drums, and two capitals. In addition the excavators found three blocks with carefully cut moldings that formed the abutments of double arches. These and other moldings and column pieces most closely resemble those from the synagogues of the Galilee and the Golan heights. Those that have been excavated stratigraphically have been founded in the middle of the third century C.E. (Meyers et al. 1974, 1976; Meyers: 1978; 1978; 1981).<\/p>\n
These fragments may be most simply interpreted as remnants of a synagogue of the third and fourth century C.E. Yet it must be added that the ideology indicated by the graffiti, the dipinto in the cave, and by the chi-rho<\/i> cross in its mosaic floor is Christian.<\/p>\n
The Christian character of this building is also indicated by graffiti scratched into the plaster on the architectural fragments just mentioned. Most are in Greek, but at least two are in Armenian, which is unprecedented. The graffiti are largely names or simply broken letters. One, however is clearly \u201cXE\u201d with the bar above, which must be read \u201cXPICTE\u201d (against the excavator, who read it XAIPE to go with the \u201cMAPIA\u201d immediately below) (Bagatti 1969: 156\u2013158).<\/p>\n
Let us summarize the character of stage two. In the course of the third century C.E. a Christian group built a north-south oriented building above two small caves. Probably in that century someone painted a \u201cLord Christ save\u201d inscription inside the smaller of the two caves. The whole nave was provided with a mosaic floor, but only late in the history of the building, namely in the fourth century C.E. This was also the time of the laying of the mosaic of Conon down the short steps inside the venerated caves.<\/p>\n
And what was the worshiping community doing besides building and improving the structure? They and likely others were leaving graffiti on the painted plaster of the interior during the course of the third and fourth centuries. When the religiosity of the graffiti can be deduced, it is Christian, even though the architecture of the building is most similar to that of a synagogue. This has prompted the excavators to dub this structure a \u201cJewish Christian church,\u201d which seems correct.<\/p>\n
BSP<\/i> 12:3-4 (Summer-Autumn 1983) p. 118<\/p>\n
The foregoing is probably in more detail than many might have liked. However the purpose of discussing the character in extenso<\/i> is to help in understanding the following remarks.<\/p>\n
The Christian group at Nazareth that built the third century sanctuary did so on a site already occupied by a likely Jewish ritual bath. This in and of itself, of course, is nothing too surprising. Yet it does seem significant in terms of the growing tensions between the Christian and Jewish communities up to and including the fourth century C.E., since the Christian caves lie hard by the mikveh. After all, we have already seen by this time the Quartodecimian controversy and the condemnations of Jewish-Christian sects in Irenaeus and others.<\/p>\n
Furthermore at a time before the greater church is speaking of pilgrimage, clearly Christians of at least three language groups are coming to Nazareth. It is even interesting to see that those scratching Greek tend to write liturgical formulas, while those using Syriac are leaving their names. That is, the different language groups may have left evidences of already developed ethnic traditions in their pilgrimage.<\/p>\n
It is also clear that what is at issue in the intellectual tradition of the church, i.e., among the theologians, is of no interest to these people. What is at stake are the usual issues of personal religion: direct help from God, invocations of Christ and God, reference to this site as a \u201choly place,\u201d prayers for salvation, etc. Of course this split is in evidence at every age, but reminds us that a history that does not take into account the needs of the people who build the churches is only partially a history.<\/p>\n
We have not mentioned before the many types of crosses that are in evidence at Nazareth and also at Capernaum. That so many variations on the cross appear suggests that Christian iconography has not yet settled on the cross symbol\u2019s received form. This lack of definition, arguing by analogy, likely affects the intellectual tradition as well.<\/p>\n
Christian Archaeological Remains from Capernaum<\/b><\/p>\n
In the case of Capernaum it will not be necessary to recite the archaeological history in detail. However we will recapitulate briefly a sequence associated with the fifth century church there.<\/p>\n
The latest structure is the octagonal church of black basalt evidently founded in the fifth century and destroyed during the course of the Arab invasion of the seventh century. Beneath that structure is a house founded in the first century B.C.E., converted to public use in the second half of the first century C.E., and finally converted into a large public structure in the fourth century. This new public building is evidently a church, as was the re-use of the house in the second half of the first century C.E. This is the house alleged to be the \u201cHouse of St. Peter\u201d by the excavators (Corbo 1975).<\/p>\n
BSP<\/i> 12:3-4 (Summer-Autumn 1983) p. 119<\/p>\n
What is the character of this house converted to Christian use so early? First we must say that it is not different in any detail but one from any of the other residences of Capernaum. It is built of basalt boulders hardly trimmed by a stone mason. The walls are one row thick, inadequate for a second story. However, still within the first century C.E., the Christian community plastered its main room three times (Corbo 1975: 98). This indicates conversion to public use, as no other structures at Capernaum devoted to a family use plastered floors. Also in this case Christian pilgrims incised their sentiments onto the walls of this redecorated and renovated house.<\/p>\n
Here we find a bit more evidence that the various language groups may have already had developed ethnic Christianities: The Aramaic graffiti are quotations from the Bible. The Syriac scratchings are personal names and puzzling speculative statements. The Greek inscriptions are again liturgical formulas and invocations of the \u201cLord help\u201d variety.<\/p>\n
It is impossible to commit oneself on the question of whether this is St. Peter\u2019s house. Yet it is clear that the visiting pilgrims may have thought so, for they wrote invocations to Peter on the walls, though the one responsible for the graffito could be named Peter. More interesting is to find such a practice before the fourth century C.E. in Palestine. It is also interesting to see the kind of issues the pilgrims are occupied with: God and Christ as a source of personal help, perhaps desire for unity with other Christians that comes to expression in the Aramaic graffiti, and the sense of mystery associated with the Syriac materials.<\/p>\n
The Underground Christian Sanctuary at Bethany<\/b><\/p>\n
Perhaps one of the most interesting expressions of alternative Christian worship is to be found at Bethany, where a late third or early fourth century underground Christian sactuary has been found. This was simply a cistern converted into use as an underground gathering place (Benoit and Boismard 1951).<\/p>\n
In its first use this cistern had been approached by a set of seven steps from the west. The steps descended 15 feet to a door, then down five more steps to the cistern floor. The excavators observed that ancient agricultural remains in the immediate vicinity of the cistern imply interpretation in its initial (and also final) use as a cistern associated with a press (Benoit and Boismard 1951: 202).<\/p>\n
In any case in its second, and for us most interesting use, it became a site of holy memory to some Christian group. At this stage the cistern no longer contained water, but was used by pilgrims as an underground repository of graffiti, both in text and in symbol. Benoit and Boismard published a total of 71 graffiti from this cistern, of which 67 are Greek, two are Latin, one is Syriac, and one is an uncertain language.<\/p>\n
Graffito 21 is the longest and gives the reason for the veneration of the <\/p>\n
BSP<\/i> 12:3-4 (Summer-Autumn 1983) p. 120<\/p>\n
site: ΕΓΙΡΑΣ ΤΟΝ ΛΑΖΑΡΟΝ Ε[Κ] ΝΕΚΡΩΝ ΜΝΗΣΘΗΤΙ ΤΟΥ ΔΟΥΛΟΥ ΣΟΥ ΑΣΚΑΗΠΙΟΥ ΚΕ ΧΙΟΝΙΟΥ ΤΗΣ ΔΟΥΛΗΣ [ΣΟ]Υ (Benoit and Boismard 1951: 216\u2013217).<\/p>\n
In other words, the cistern preserves the memory of the resurrection of Lazarus. In this place it is interesting to find that none of the graffiti are addressed to Lazarus in any of the languages. Certainly this site attracted visitors from many diverse places, for the names are Greek, Arab, Nabataean, eastern Greek, and Italian. A certain Diogenianos asks mercy from the Lord upon himself and his caravan of tourists:(=Κν́ριε ὲλέησον) ΛΙΟΓΕΝΙΑΝΟΝ ΚΑΙ ΤΗΝ ΣΥΝΟΔΙΑΝ (Benoit and Boismard 1951: 239f).<\/p>\n
Is it possible, as Benoit and Boismard have suggested (though they then withdrew the suggestion), that this is the place Bernard the Monk mentions (870 C.E.)? \u201cIuxta quod (sepulerum Lazari) est piscina ad aquilonem in qua iussu Domini lavit se ipse Lazarus resuscitatus\u201d (Wilkinson 1977: 144). This is not a pool, but may have been popularly thought of as the place of Lazarus\u2019s ritual bathing after the resurrection.<\/p>\n
What is perhaps more important for the purposes of this essay is that Christians venerated such a place underground.<\/i> This is hardly a portion of current orthopraxis. Rather it seems to be an element of popular folk religion, such as we glean from the pages of Egeria (Wilkinson 1971, Testa 1964a). When this Christian lady visited the Holy Land she was shown many caves where the locals placed biblical events: the cave of Moses (Ex. 33:22), the cave of Moses\u201d second trip up the mountain (Ex. 34), the cave where Elijah hid on Mt. Horeb (I Kg. 19:9), the cave where Elijah lived in Tishbe, the cave in which Job was buried, the \u201ccave\u201d of Jesus\u2019s burial, and the cave on the Mt. of Olives where Jesus taught his disciples. She was not shown a cave associated with Lazarus, much less a cistern, but she does mention the Lazarium, or church dedicated to St. Lazarus (Wilkinson 1971: 52\u201353, 160).<\/p>\n
Worship in caves is as much a practice of orthodoxy as anything else, for we have such caves on the Mount of Beatitudes, in Nazareth, and several in Jerusalem. From the ancient literature we can deduce that on occasion one might associate this practice, at least at a later time, with heresy.<\/p>\n
When you find yourself a stranger in any city, do not ask for the \u201cHouse of God\u201d, for the sects of the impious also give this name to their caves.<\/i> Nor ask either, \u201cWhere is the church?\u201d, but be specific and ask for the Catholic<\/i> church (emphasis added: St. Cyril, Lenten Lectures<\/i> 18:26; Migne, PG<\/i> 33.1047\u20138).<\/p>\n
We also mention the variety of crosses engraved and painted inside this cistern. The excavators distinguish seven types of incised crosses, those painted with the alpha and omega, concentric circles with painted crosses, and Latin crosses with heads twice the thickness of the body. Other symbols include a ladder, concentric circles, and a cartouche (Benoit and <\/p>\n
BSP<\/i> 12:3-4 (Summer-Autumn 1983) p. 121<\/p>\n
Boismard 1951: 244\u2013248). The variety itself in the use of crosses suggests that a wide variety of aesthetic expressions of the faith are allowable.<\/p>\n
Other indications of the latitude given in artistic expression are the Christian amulets with invocations of God the conqueror on one side, and of Christ as<\/i> the cross on the other, one of which is known from Gush Halav, the Gischala of Josephus, in Upper Galilee (Makhouly 1938; Bagatti 1971a: 223). Other symbols are a bit too speculative to mention here. It is enough to say that the symbolic vocabulary of early Christianity is large enough to excite researchers for many years to come.<\/p>\n
The variety of practices presented above conspires to suggest that there was a variety also in religious belief and doctrine that is simply too little appreciated today (Grant 1947; Wilkin 1981). It is not that we have tried to idealize the picture of earliest Christianity so much as we have simply attached too much importance to the reports of those who were raised in a specific kind of tradition. That is, we have tended to believe that there really was such a thing as \u201cthe faith,\u201d implying the one and only, received, orthodox faith from the beginning. This is surely at best an oversimplification, and at worst a trick played by scholars on themselves. Those trained in rhetoric and Greek philosophy already presupposed the faith as a Platonic a priori, an original, pure source gradually diluted and contaminated by its tributaries over time. Surely reality is more complicated than that.<\/p>\n
Rather it appears that there is reason to believe that early Christianity was fissured along several lines. These separations and divisions were of various types and of diverse seriousness and must not go unnoticed. The kinds of natural divisions that are detectable in the body politic from the point of view of an archaeologist are many, but likely all leave their imprint on the literary as well as the archaeological record.<\/p>\n
We mention the urban-rural split, which still plays a role in understanding religious movements anywhere in the world that these two categories are operative. We expect social movements that develop in a relatively high-pressure, sophisticated environment such as the city to exhibit different structures than those which grew in primarily an agricultural context so close to the natural rhythms of the soil.<\/p>\n
Other social parameters suggest themselves, such as status and rank, relative wealth of a given community, marriage patterns, and ethnic identity. We have already noticed above that language groups, which we may loosely call \u201cethnic groups,\u201d already have incipient, distinct traditions in the graffiti. We can at least hypothesize that different language groups would develop distinctive Christianities associated with their local traditions.<\/p>\n
And while we speak of local traditions, it is necessary to understand regional differences in custom, mores, social groupings, methods of earning status and recognition, etc., before we can understand the religious movement in that specific region. This is a little understood issue, but take note <\/p>\n
BSP<\/i> 12:3-4 (Summer-Autumn 1983) p. 122<\/p>\n
of its importance in the neighboring discipline of post biblical Judaism There the attention paid to Galilean regionalism, for example, has had important consequences for deducing the type of Judaism practiced by Jesus and the apostles (Meyers 1976).<\/p>\n
Some of the regionalisms in question have bordered on isolationalism. For example the village of Bu\u2019eina is reported by the Jerusalem Talmud (c. 400) as an \u201cisolated\u201d Jewish village (Schwab 1871: 356). That is, it had been surrounded by that time by \u201cgentile,\u201d namely Christian villages. Yet there are two sites for the ancient village on two hills (Neubauer 1867: 235\u2013236), side by side, which may tell us that the ancient Jewish and Christian populations simply agreed to disagree. Whatever the correct historical circumstances here, it is surely the case that first it was isolated Christian villages, even Jewish-Christian, that emerged in a network of Jewish villages. Such isolated localities are more likely to have developed local traditions not well-known elsewhere (Testa 1964b).<\/p>\n
The potential for isolated or local interpretations of Christian phenomena has yet to be exploited. What are we to make of the Christian church at Mamre, which seems to have a local religious tradition that is not specifically either Jewish or gentile, but its observance involved practices offensive to Eutropia, Constantine\u2019s mother-in-law? (Wilkinson 1977: 174).<\/p>\n
It will surely be productive to consider the impact of the social and economic function of the center where a given church was located. That is, what are the major services that this locality provided for its region? What is its socioeconomic status? A given locality could be a regional political capital, intellectual center, mercentile center, agrarian market, and so on. Such dimensions of city life are bound to have played a role in the development of early Christianity. It is surely significant that the major figures of Christian intellectual history are located precisely at urban centers, and specifically regional capitals. What of those who stayed in the hinterlands?<\/p>\n
Finally we mention the phenomenon of the lag in transmission of ideas through whatever network they move. In other words, the settlements in any area of the world were organized into a network for the transmission of goods and services (Hodder and Orton 1976: 55\u201364; Smith 1966: 64\u2013118). This pattern was ideally a hexagonal lattice, but of course the ideal is seldom met in practice. The idea is that some service, perhaps tax records, is provided by Caesarea for the whole of Palestine. This service is accessed by regional centers, such as Jerusalem, Sepphoris in Galilee, Beth Shean-Scythopolis in the eastern Jezreel valley, Sebaste, and so on. From these centers the service radiates to the dependent villages. There is necessarily therefore a time lag between an innovation in tax recording at Caesarea and its adoption in a local village.<\/p>\n
The same pattern is followed in the transmission of ideas, exegetical methods, perceptions of heresy, and so on. As of this date we do not know <\/p>\n
BSP<\/i> 12:3-4 (Summer-Autumn 1983) p. 123<\/p>\n
the impact of this phenomenon on the development of the various orthodoxies of the Palestinian countryside. The same could be said for the history of the liturgies, or of any set of beliefs or practices.<\/p>\n
Thus the archaeological evidences and certain other theoretical considerations conspire to suggest that the picture of early Christianity was complex indeed. It also appears that our evidence is quite fragmentary, and our methods seem inadequate to any task of historical reconstruction. Nevertheless it is important to engage in historical reconstruction with both eyes fixed firmly on texts and archaeology together. Otherwise we will beg our own question.<\/p>\n
REFERENCES CONSULTED<\/b><\/p>\n
Bagatti, Bellarmino<\/p>\n
1969 Excavations in Nazareth, Vol. 1: From the Beginning till the XII Century. Jerusalem: Franciscan Printing Press.<\/p>\n
1971a Antichi Villaggi Cristiani de Galilea. Jerusalem: Franciscan Printing Press.<\/p>\n
1971b The Church from the Circumcision. Jerusalem: Franciscan Printing Press.<\/p>\n
Benoit, P. and Boismard, M. E.<\/p>\n
1951 \u201cUn ancien sanctuaire chr\u00e9tien \u00e0 Bethanie. Revue Biblique<\/i> 58: 200\u2013251.<\/p>\n
Corbo, Virgilio<\/p>\n
1975 Cafarnao I: Gli edifici della Citt\u00e0.<\/i> Jerusalem: Franciscan Printing Press.<\/p>\n
Dilthey, Wilhelm<\/p>\n
1961 Gesammelte Schriften,<\/i> Vol. VII: Der Aufbau der geschichtlichen Welt in den Geistesivissenschaften.<\/i> 3rd ed. G\u00f6ttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht; or Stuttgart: B.G. Teubner Verlagsgesellschaft.<\/p>\n
Ermarth, Michael<\/p>\n
1978 Wilhelm Dilthey: The Critique of Historical Reason.<\/i> Chicago and London: University of Chicago Press.<\/p>\n
Grant, R. M.<\/p>\n
1947 Second Century Christianity. London: S.P.C.K.<\/p>\n
Hodder, Ian and Orton, Clive<\/p>\n
1976 Spatial Analysis in Archaeology.<\/i> London: Cambridge University Press.<\/p>\n
Makhouly, N.<\/p>\n
1938 \u201cRock-cut tombs at el-Jish.\u201d Quarterly of the Department of Antiquities of Palestine 8: 45\u201350.<\/p>\n
Meyers, Eric M.<\/p>\n
1976 \u201cGalilean Regionalism as a Factor in Historical Reconstruction.\u201d Bulletin of the American Schools of Oriental Research<\/i> 221: 93\u2013102.<\/p>\n
Meyers, E. M., Kraabel, A. T., & J. F. Strange<\/p>\n
1976 \u201cAncient Synagogue Excavations at Khirbet Shema, Upper Galilee, Israel, 1970\u20131972.\u201d In The Annual of the American Schools of Oriental Research,<\/i> XLII, edited by D. N. Freedman. Durham: Duke University Press.<\/p>\n
BSP<\/i> 12:3-4 (Summer-Autumn 1983) p. 124<\/p>\n
Meyers, E. M., Meyers, C. L., and J. F. Strange<\/p>\n
1974 \u201cExcavations at Meiron in Upper Galilee\u20141971, 1972: A Preliminary Report.\u201d Bulletin of the American Schools of Oriental Research<\/i> 214: 2\u201325.<\/p>\n
Meyers, E. M., J. F. Strange, and C. L. Meyers<\/p>\n
1978 \u201cExcavations at Meiron in Upper Galilee\u20141974, 1975: A Second Preliminary Report.\u201d In The Annual of the American Schools of Oriental Research,<\/i> XLIII: Preliminary Excavations Reports,<\/i> edited by D. N. Freedman. Cambridge, MA: American Schools of Oriental Research: 73\u201398.<\/p>\n
1981 Excavations at Ancient Meiron, Upper Galilee, Israel 1971\u201472, 1974\u201475, 1977.<\/i> Meiron Excavation Project, vol. III. Cambridge, MA: American Shools of Oriental Research.<\/p>\n
Meyers, E. L., J. F. Strange, C. L. Meyers, and R. S. Hanson<\/p>\n
1978 \u201cPreliminary Report on the 1977 and 1978 Seasons at Gush Halav (el-Jish).\u201d Bulletin of the American Schools of Oriental Research<\/i> 233: 33\u201358.<\/p>\n
Neubauer, Adolf<\/p>\n
1967 La G\u00e9ographie du Talmud.<\/i> Hildesheim: Georg Olms Verlag. Reprint of 1868.<\/p>\n
Rickman, H. P., ed.<\/p>\n
1961 Wilhelm Dilthey, Pattern and Meaning in History. New York: Harper & Row.<\/p>\n
Schwab, Moshe, trans, and ed.<\/p>\n
1871 Le Talmud de Jerusalem. Paris: n.p.<\/p>\n
Smith, Aldred G., ed.<\/p>\n
1966 \u201cNetworks: Directions and Distances.\u201d In Communication and Culture: Readings in the Codes of Human Interaction.<\/i> Chap. 6, pp. 64-118. New York: Holt, Rinehart & Winston.<\/p>\n
Testa, Immanuel<\/p>\n
1964a \u201cLe \u2018Grotte dei misteri\u2019 guideo-cristiane,\u201d Liber Annuus,<\/i> XIV: 65\u2013144.<\/p>\n
1964b \u201cLa piscina Probatica, monumento pagano o guidaico?\u201d, Liber Annuus,<\/i> XIV: 311\u2013316.<\/p>\n
1969 Nazaret Guideo-Cristiana: Riti, Iscizioni, Simboli.<\/i> Jerusalem: Franciscan Printing Press.<\/p>\n
Wilkin, Robert L.<\/p>\n
1981 \u201cDiversity and Unity in Early Christianity.\u201d The Second Century<\/i> 1\/2: 101\u2013110.<\/p>\n
Wilkinson, John<\/p>\n
1971 Egeria\u2019s Travels.<\/i> London: S.P.C.K.<\/p>\n
1977 Jerusalem Pilgrims Before the Crusades.<\/i> Warminster, England: Aris & Phillips.<\/p>\n
(Reprinted by permission from Anglican Theological Review,<\/i> Vol. 65, No. 1, 1983.)<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
James F. Strange [James F. Strange is Dean of the College of Arts and Letters, University of South Florida, Tampa, Florida.] ONE has several options in examining early church history. First he or she needs to define the objectives of the study. But, with those firmly in hand, one then needs to decide what to … Continue reading “DIVERSITY
\nIN EARLY PALESTINIAN CHRISTIANITY, SOME ARCHAEOLOGICAL EVIDENCES”<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-14979","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-sermons"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.biblia.work\/sermons\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/14979","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.biblia.work\/sermons\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.biblia.work\/sermons\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.biblia.work\/sermons\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.biblia.work\/sermons\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=14979"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/www.biblia.work\/sermons\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/14979\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.biblia.work\/sermons\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=14979"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.biblia.work\/sermons\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=14979"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.biblia.work\/sermons\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=14979"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}