Manuscripts and Scribes Chapter PDF
Manuscripts and Scribes Chapter PDF
Manuscripts and Scribes Chapter PDF
Michael J. Kruger
At its core, early Christianity was a religion concerned with books. From
the very beginning, Christians were committed to the books of the Hebrew
Scriptures and saw them as paradigmatic for understanding the life and
ministry of Jesus of Nazareth. The apostle Paul was so immersed in the
Old Testament writings that he even conceived of the resurrection of Jesus
“according to the Scriptures” (1Cor 15:3–4).1 The Pauline use of books (par-
ticularly Old Testament books) in the course of his ministry is borne out in
passages like 2Tim 4:13 where Timothy is urged to “bring … my scrolls, espe-
cially the parchments.”2 Moreover, gospel accounts like those of Matthew
and John, as well as books like James and Hebrews, exhibit similar indebt-
edness to the Old Testament, often citing from it directly and extensively.
Such intimate connections between the earliest Christian movement and
the Old Testament writings led Harry Gamble to declare, “Indeed it is almost
impossible to imagine an early Christianity that was not constructed upon
the foundations of Jewish Scripture.”3
Of course, it was not only the Old Testament books that mattered to early
Christianity. At a very early point, Christians also began to produce their
1 For more on Paul and the Old Testament, see Richard B. Hays, Echoes of Scripture in the
Letters of Paul (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1989), and Francis Watson, Paul and the
Hermeneutics of Faith (London: T&T Clark, 2004).
2 See discussion in T.C. Skeat, “ ‘Especially the Parchments:’ A Note on 2Timothy iv.13,”
Charles Horton (ed.), The Earliest Gospels (London: T&T Clark, 2004), 28. A fuller discussion
of the origins of the Old Testament canon can be found in Roger T. Beckwith, The Old
Testament Canon of the New Testament Church, and its Background in Early Judaism (Grand
Rapids: Eerdmans, 1986), and more recently in Lee Martin McDonald and James A. Sanders
(eds.), The Canon Debate (Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 2002), 21–263.
16 michael j. kruger
4 Some have argued that Christianity was primarily an oral religion at the beginning with
little interest in texts until a much later time; e.g. Helmut Koester, “Written Gospels or Oral
Tradition?,” JBL 113 (1994): 293–297; W. Kelber, The Oral and Written Gospel: The Hermeneutics
of Speaking and Writing in the Synoptic Tradition, Mark, Paul, and Q (Philadelphia: Fortress,
1983). However, there is no need to consider the oral and written modes of Christianity as
mutually exclusive. See helpful discussions on this point in Harry Y. Gamble, Books and
Readers in the Early Church (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1995), 28–32; Graham Stanton,
“Form Criticism Revisited,” in M.D. Hooker and C.J.A. Hickling (eds.), What About the New
Testament? (London: SCM, 1975), 13–27; Graham Stanton, “The Fourfold Gospel,” NTS 43
(1997): 317–346, esp. 340; Loveday Alexander, “The Living Voice: Skepticism Toward the
Written Word in Early Christian and Graeco-Roman Texts,” in D.J.A. Clines, S.E. Fowl, and
S.E. Porter (eds.), The Bible in Three Dimensions (JSOTSup 87; Sheffield: JSOT, 1990), 221–247;
Richard Bauckham, Jesus and the Eyewitnesses: The Gospels as Eyewitness Testimony (Grand
Rapids: Eerdmans, 2006), esp. chs. 2, 10, and 11.
5 William V. Harris, Ancient Literacy (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1989);
A.K. Bowman and G. Wolf (eds.), Literacy and Power in the Ancient World (Cambridge:
Cambridge University Press, 1994).
6 John Barton, The Spirit and the Letter: Studies in the Biblical Canon (London: SPCK,
1997), 18; Bruce M. Metzger, The Canon of the New Testament: Its Origin, Development, and
Significance (Oxford: Clarendon, 1987), 254.
7 Lucian, Peregr. 11–12; Origen, Cels. 1.34–40; A. Meredith, “Porphyry and Julian Against
the Christians,” ANRW II.23.2, 1119–1149. For more on pagan critiques of Christianity, see
the helpful overview in Wayne C. Kannaday, Apologetic Discourse and the Scribal Tradition:
Evidence of the Influence of Apologetic Interests on the Text of the Canonical Gospels (Atlanta:
Society of Biblical Literature, 2004), 24–57; Stephen Benko, “Pagan Criticism of Christianity
During the First Two Centuries AD,” ANRW II.23.2, 1055–1118; Robert L. Wilken, Christians
as the Romans Saw Them (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1984); and Robert L. Wilken,
“Pagan Criticism of Christianity: Greek Religions and Christian Faith,” in William R. Schoedel
and Robert L. Wilken (eds.), Early Christian Literature and the Classical Intellectual Tradition:
In Honorem Robert M. Grant (Paris: Editions Beauchesne, 1979), 117–134.
manuscripts, scribes, and book production 17
8 Of course, this has begun to change in recent years. In addition to Harry Gamble’s excel-
lent study, Books and Readers in the Early Church. See also David Trobisch, The First Edition
of the New Testament (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2000); Kim Haines-Eitzen, Guardians
of Letters: Literacy, Power, and the Transmitters of Early Christian Literature (Oxford: Oxford
University Press, 2000); Larry W. Hurtado, The Earliest Christian Artifacts: Manuscripts and
Christian Origins (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2006); Thomas J. Kraus and Tobias Nicklas (eds.),
New Testament Manuscripts: Their Texts and Their World (TENTS 2; Leiden: E.J. Brill, 2006).
9 Standard treatments of the Greco-Roman book include W. Schubart, Das Buch bei den
Griechen und Römern (2nd ed.; ed. E. Paul; Heidelberg: Schneider, 1962); F.G. Kenyon, Books
and Readers in Ancient Greece and Rome (2nd ed.; Oxford: Clarendon, 1932); H. Blanck, Das
Buch in der Antike (Munich: Beck, 1992).
18 michael j. kruger
Our study will begin with an examination of the physical form of early Chris-
tian books. We will take into account how these books were constructed,
the writing material used, the style of handwriting, and other noteworthy
inscriptional features.
1.1. Form
The most notable feature of the early Christian book was that it was almost
always in the form of a codex.10 The primary form of a book in the broader
Greco-Roman world was the scroll (or roll), which was made from sheets of
papyrus or parchment pasted together (end to end) in a long strip and rolled
up.11 Writing was done only on the inside of the scroll so that when it was
rolled up the words were protected.12 The codex, in contrast, was created
by taking a stack of papyrus or parchment leaves, folding them in half, and
binding them at the spine. This format allowed for the traditional leaf book
with writing on both sides of each page. Such a single-quire codex could
hold a maximum of about 250 pages (approximately 125 leaves) before the
10 Relevant works on the codex include A. Blanchard (ed.), Les débuts du codex (Turnhout:
Brepols, 1989); C.H. Roberts and T.C. Skeat, The Birth of the Codex (London: Oxford Univer-
sity Press, 1987); E.G. Turner, The Typology of the Early Codex (Philadelphia: University of
Pennsylvania Press, 1977); T.C. Skeat, “The Origin of the Christian Codex,” ZPE 102 (1994): 263–
268; H.A. Sanders, “The Beginnings of the Modern Book,” University of Michigan Quarterly
Review 44, no. 15 (1938): 95–111; C.C. McCown, “Codex and Roll in the New Testament,” HTR
34 (1941): 219–250; L.W. Hurtado, “The Earliest Evidence of an Emerging Christian Material
and Visual Culture: The Codex, the Nomina Sacra, and the Staurogram,” in Stephen G. Wilson
and Michael Desjardins (eds.), Text and Artifact in the Religions of Mediterranean Antiquity:
Essays in Honour of Peter Richardson (Waterloo: Wilfrid Laurier University Press, 2000), 271–
288; S.R. Llewelyn, “The Development of the Codex,” in S.R. Llewelyn and R.A. Kearsley (ed.),
New Documents Illustrating Early Christianity. Vol. 7: A Review of the Greek Inscriptions and
Papyri Published in 1982–1983 (North Ryde, NSW: Macquarie University Ancient History Doc-
umentary Research Center, 1994), 249–256; Graham N. Stanton, “Why Were Early Christians
Addicted to the Codex?,” a chapter in his Jesus and Gospel (Cambridge: Cambridge Uni-
versity Press, 2004), 165–191; Eldon J. Epp, “The Codex and Literacy in early Christianity at
Oxyrhynchus: Issues Raised by Harry Y. Gamble’s Books and Readers in the Early Church,” in
Charles Prebish (ed.), Critical Review of Books in Religion 1997 (Atlanta: AAR and SBL, 1997),
15–37.
11 A helpful discussion of scrolls is found in Gamble, Books and Readers, 43–48; and more
side) of the parchment or papyrus. Such a scroll, known as an opisthograph, is likely referred
to by Pliny the Younger (Ep. 3.5.17).
manuscripts, scribes, and book production 19
binding at the spine became overtaxed and the central pages of the codex
would protrude out too far when the book was closed.13 Many of our earliest
papyrus codices—such as P46 (Paul), P47 (Revelation), and P75 (John and
Luke)—were single-quire in their construction.14 Larger volumes, like P45
(four gospels and Acts), often used a multiple-quire codex that was made up
of numerous single-quire units (often between 4–12 pages each) all bound
together at the spine. However, sometimes a multiple-quire codex was also
used for smaller works like P66, a late second-century codex containing only
the gospel of John, suggesting that the multiple-quire format might go back
well into the second century.15
It is now well established among modern scholars that early Christians
not only preferred the codex instead of the roll, but they did so at a remark-
ably early point. Prior generations of scholars, limited by the amount of
manuscript evidence at their disposal, originally considered the codex
to be a rather late development.16 But various manuscript discoveries—
particularly documents like P52 (gospel of John),17 Papyrus Egerton 2 (apoc-
ryphal gospel),18 and P.Yale 1 (Genesis)19—indicate that the codex was the
13 Some single-quire codices could hold even more, e.g., P. Milan Vogliano V, a Coptic
edition of Paul’s letters, contains more than 280 pages. For more on the capacity of such
codices, see Roberts and Skeat, Birth of the Codex, 65–66; Turner, Typology of the Early Codex,
55–60.
14 T.C. Skeat, “The Oldest Manuscripts of the Four Gospels?,” NTS 43 (1997): 1–34, argues
that P4, P64, and P67 are all from the same single-quire codex which contained all four gospels.
If so, then this would be an example of how single-quire codices could be used for quite
sizeable volumes. Skeat has been challenged in recent years by Peter M. Head, “Is P4, P64,
and P67 the Oldest Manuscript of the Four Gospels? A Response to T.C. Skeat,” NTS 51 (2005):
450–457.
15 Some have suggested that P66 is even in the first half of the second century; see
Herbert Hunger, “Zur Datierung des Papyrus Bodmer II (P66),” Anzeiger der österreichischen
Akademie der Wissenschaften 4 (1960): 12–33.
16 E.g. C.R. Gregory, Canon and Text of the New Testament (Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1907),
declared, “I am inclined to think that this change [from roll to codex] was made about the end
of the third or the beginning of the fourth century” (322). In fact, he viewed codex Sinaiticus
and Vaticanus as some of the first codices to be made. For discussion, see McCown, “Codex
and Roll,” 219–221.
17 C.H. Roberts, “An Unpublished Fragment of the Fourth Gospel in the John Rylands
Egerton 2 und seine Stellung in der urchristlichen Literaturgeschichte (Bern: Paul Haupt,
1946); Jon B. Daniels, “The Egerton Gospel: Its Place in Early Christianity” (unpublished
Ph.D. Dissertation, Claremont Graduate School, 1990); C.H. Dodd, “A New Gospel,” BJRL 20
(1936): 56–92; H.I. Bell and T.C. Skeat, Fragments of an Unknown Gospel and Other Early
Christian Papyri (London: Trustees of the British Museum, 1935); and most recently Thomas
Kraus, Michael J. Kruger, and Tobias Nicklas, Gospel Fragments (Oxford: Oxford University
Press, 2008), see section one.
19 C.H. Roberts, “P Yale 1 and the Early Christian Book,” AStP 1 (1966): 25–28.
20 michael j. kruger
widely established Christian practice by the early second century, if not late
in the first.20 So dominant was the Christian preference for the codex, in
the face of a broader Greco-Roman world that continued to use the roll
for centuries to come,21 that some have even suggested that the codex may
have been a Christian invention.22 It was not until the fourth century and
beyond that the rest of the ancient world began to prefer the codex to the
roll, something Christians had done centuries earlier.23
With these considerations in mind, the question of why Christians pre-
ferred the codex has been widely debated. Suggestions that the codex was
chosen for practical advantages (convenience, size, cost) or for socio-eco-
nomic reasons (the lack of education among Christians made the informal
codex more palatable) have been largely considered inadequate.24 Although
such factors may have played some role, they would only allow an incremen-
tal and gradual transition to the codex over many years, and thus cannot
account for the fact that the transition to the codex was rather abrupt, early,
and widespread.25 A more foundational and influential cause is needed to
20 Roberts and Skeat confirmed the early dominance of the codex by showing how it
was the format of choice for Christians from the very beginning of Christian book produc-
tion (Birth of the Codex, 38–44). This early date has been challenged by J. van Haelst, “Les
origines du codex,” in A. Blanchard (ed.), Les débuts du codex (Turnhout: Brepols, 1989),
13–36, where he argues for a later date for some of these manuscripts. E.G. Turner, Greek
Papyri: An Introduction (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1968), 10, also cautions against exces-
sively early dates. However, T.C. Skeat, “Early Christian Book-Production,” in G.W.H. Lampe
(ed.), The Cambridge History of the Bible (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1969),
54–79, and Roberts, “P Yale 1 and the Early Christian Book,” 25–28, maintain an early date
by appealing to the discovery of P.Yale 1, the papyrus codex containing Genesis, which
dates from 80–100ce. Moreover, recent manuscript discoveries continue to confirm the
dominance of the codex. Between 1997 and 1999, a number of early manuscripts from
Oxyrhynchus were discovered and were all on codices: P.Oxy. 4403–4404 (Matthew); P.Oxy
4445–4448 (John); P.Oxy. 4494–4500 (fragments of Matthew, Luke, Acts, Romans, Hebrews
and Revelation).
21 See statistics offered by Hurtado, Earliest Christian Artifacts, 44–53.
22 Skeat, “Early Christian Book Production,” 68. See discussion in McCown, “Codex and
Roll in the New Testament,” 219–221. Of course, now it is well-accepted that the codex was
likely a Roman invention (see Roberts and Skeat, Birth of the Codex, 15–23).
23 Roberts and Skeat, Birth of the Codex, 35–37.
24 Roberts and Skeat, Birth of the Codex, 45–53; Hurtado, Earliest Christian Artifacts, 63–69;
T.C. Skeat, “The Length of the Standard Papyrus Roll and the Cost Advantage of the Codex,”
ZPE 45 (1982): 169–175.
25 Other theories about the origin of the codex suffer from some of the same problems.
For example, Epp (“Codex and Literacy,” 15–37) and Michael McCormick, “The Birth of
the Codex and the Apostolic Life-Style,” Scriptorium 39 (1985): 150–158, suggest the codex
was established by its use in the travels of itinerant missionaries; and Stanton, “Why Were
Early Christians Addicted to the Codex,” 181–191, suggests that it was early Christian uses
manuscripts, scribes, and book production 21
of primitive “notebooks” (e.g., wax, wooden, and parchment tablets) for recording sayings of
Jesus or Old Testament prooftexts that led to the wholesale adoption of the codex.
26 Skeat, “Origin of the Christian Codex,” 263–268. One is also reminded of the comments
of Frederick Kenyon: “When, therefore, Irenaeus at the end of the second century writes of
the four Gospels as the divinely provided evidence of Christianity, and the number four as
almost axiomatic, it is now possible to believe that he may have been accustomed to the sight
of volumes in which all four [Gospels] were contained” (F.G. Kenyon, The Chester Beatty
Biblical Papyri: Descriptions and Texts of Twelve Manuscripts on Papyrus of the Greek Bible
[London: Emery Walker, 1933–1937], 1:13).
27 Gamble, Books and Readers, 58–66; Hurtado, Earliest Christian Artifacts, 69–83.
28 J.K. Elliott, “Manuscripts, the Codex, and the Canon,” JSNT 63 (1996): 111.
29 E.g., during the second century we have only the following Christian scriptural books
not on codices: P.IFAO (Revelation); P.Oxy. 4443 (Esther); P.Barc.inv. 2 (Psalms). However,
it should be noted that the manuscript of Revelation is simply a reused roll (opisthograph)
and therefore does not represent a conscious decision to use a roll. Moreover, it is uncertain
whether the manuscripts of Esther and Psalms derive from a Christian or Jewish provenance.
For more discussion, see Hurtado, The Earliest Christian Artifacts, 54–56.
30 E.g., P.Iand. 1.4 (Shepherd of Hermas); P.Lond.Christ.1 (P.Egerton 2).
22 michael j. kruger
However, it does suggest that some Christians (in certain instances) may
have reserved the roll format for books that they did not consider scriptural.
Put differently, Christians not only had a general preference for the codex,
but, as Hurtado has stated, “Christians favored the codex particularly for the
writings they treated as scripture.”31
1.2. Material
In addition to the format of early books, ancient writing material—whether
papyrus32 or parchment33—was another important factor in Christian book
production. Papyrus was produced from the papyrus plant, a reed that
typically grew 2–5 meters in height and was primarily found in the Nile
region in upper Egypt (though also found in parts of Palestine). The stem
of the plant was cut into long, thin strips which were laid side by side and
then another layer of strips was placed over them at right angles. When
these strips were compressed tightly together the juice of the plant would
be excreted and would act as a glue of sorts, binding the strips together. This
created a strong,34 paper-like writing surface with horizontal fibers on one
side, and vertical fibers on the other—often known as the recto and verso
respectively.35 Parchment (or vellum) was made from animal skin (usually
sheep, goats, or calves) where the hair is removed from the pelt and then
Parchments and Leathers (London: Seminar Press, 1972); M.L. Ryder, “The Biology and History
of Parchment,” in P. Ruck (ed.), Pergament: Geschichte, Struktur, Restaurierung, Herstellung
(Simarigen: Thorbecke, 1991), 25–33; Richard R. Johnson, “The Role of Parchment in Greco-
Roman Antiquity” (unpublished Ph.D. Dissertation, University of California, 1968).
34 Both Skeat, “Early Christian Book-Production,” 59–60, and Gamble, Books and Readers,
45, make a point to dispel the misconception that papyrus is a fragile material. See comments
on papyrus by Pliny, Nat. Hist. 13.74–82.
35 E.G. Turner, “Recto and Verso,” JEA 40 (1954): 102–106; E.G. Turner, The Terms Recto and
Verso: The Anatomy of the Payrus Roll (Brussels: Fondation Égyptologique Reine Élisabeth,
1978). When papyrus was used to make a roll, the horizontal fibers (which were easiest for
the scribe to write upon) would be placed on the inside, and when made into a codex, scribes
would often arrange the leaves so that when the book was open horizontal fibers would
be facing horizontal fibers and vertical fibers would be facing vertical fibers. See Turner,
Typology of the Codex, 55–71.
manuscripts, scribes, and book production 23
36 The terms “recto” and “verso” have also been applied to parchment manuscripts with
the flesh side generally being referred to as the “recto” (since it is the preferred writing
surface) and the hair side being referred to as the “verso.” However, such uses of these terms
have created problems. Since, in a strict sense, the term “recto” simply refers to the front
of a folio and the “verso” to the back (Gamble, Books and Readers, 265 n9), questions arise
as to whether the terms should be used simply for the front and back of a document or for
the horizontal/flesh and vertical/hair sides. For example, in the apocryphal gospel fragment,
P.Oxy. 840, the original editors unexpectedly referred to the front of the folio as the “verso”
(because it was the hair side), causing a substantive deal of confusion in subsequent literature
on the fragment. For the original edition of P.Oxy. 840, see Bernard P. Grenfell and Arthur
S. Hunt, Fragment of an Uncanonical Gospel (London: Oxford University Press, 1908). For
more discussion of its use of recto and verso, see Michael J. Kruger, The Gospel of the Savior:
An Analysis of P.Oxy. 840 and Its Place in the Gospel Traditions of Early Christianity (TENTS 1;
Leiden: E.J. Brill, 2005), 21–22, 35–36.
37 We do have evidence that parchment codices were known and used quite early in
Egypt. P.Oxy. 30 is a non-Christian manuscript from Egypt containing the historical work
De bellis Macedonicis. This Latin text is in the form of a parchment codex and can be dated
to the early second century (Turner, Typology, 38). In regard to whether the parchment or
papyrus codex was first, Roberts and Skeat declare, “At present the question is wide open”
(Roberts and Skeat, The Birth of the Codex, 29). For further discussion of the significance of
parchment and papyrus when evaluating a manuscript, including P.Oxy. 840, see Thomas
J. Kraus, “ ‘Pergament oder Papyrus?’: Anmerkungen zur Signifikanz des Beschreibstoffes bei
der Behandlung von Manuskripten,” NTS 49 (2003): 425–432.
38 Turner, Typology, 37–39.
39 Kurt Aland and Barbara Aland, The Text of the New Testament: An Introduction to the
Critical Editions and to the Theory and Practice of Modern Textual Criticism (Grand Rapids:
Eerdmans, 1989), 76.
24 michael j. kruger
situation begins to change rapidly and we find fourteen papyrus MSS and
fourteen parchment MSS. The fifth century reveals 36 parchment MSS and
two papyrus MSS.40 From this point onwards parchment is the dominant
material.41
This notable transition from papyrus to parchment can provide at least
broad guidelines in our dating of New Testament manuscripts. Any parch-
ment manuscript is unlikely to be earlier than the third century given the
fact that we have no extant New Testament texts on parchment from that
time period.42 The transition from papyrus to parchment also brought with
it new scribal conventions, particularly the increased use of color. Although
color appeared occasionally in earlier papyrus manuscripts,43 it became
more dominant in the fourth century and later because animal skin proved
particularly fitting for the application of colored ink, resulting in deluxe vol-
umes with decorations and miniatures.44
century, even though it generally characterizes manuscripts that are earlier than that time
period. Examples of later papyrus manuscripts include, P3 (sixth century); P41 (eighth cen-
tury); P59 (seventh century); and P61 (seventh century).
43 E.g., the apocryphal Fayyum Gospel (P.Vindob. G. 2325) dating from the third cen-
tury where the red ink was used for the abbreviation πετ for Πέτρος. See C.H. Roberts,
Manuscript, Society and Belief in Early Christian Egypt (London: Oxford University Press,
1979), 17 n. 7).
non-matching parenthesis
44 The fifth/sixth century Vienna Genesis (Theol. Gr. 31) is dyed purple and contains 48
miniatures illustrating the content of the text (which was written in silver). Some books
simply had the initial letters enlarged and decorated with a variety of colors; e.g., fourth
century Codex Vaticanus was given large and colorful (blue) initial letters by a later scribe;
the first three lines of Deuteronomy, and the title and first two lines of Joshua were written
in red ink in the fifth century Washington (W) manuscript; and codex Bezae used red ink
for the first three lines of each book. The apocryphal gospel P.Oxy. 840 also used red ink
to mark punctuation, nomina sacra, and to outline enlarged letters (Kruger, The Gospel
of the Savior, 48–49). Red ink was also a popular color for early Egyptian Demotic papyri
and was frequently used to mark chapter or section headings (e.g., P.Lond.demot. 10070;
P.Brit.Mus. inv. 10588; P.Louvre E3229). For discussion, see Janet H. Johnson, “Introduction
to the Demotic Magical Papyri,” in Hans Dieter Betz (ed.), The Greek Magical Papyri in
Translation (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1986), lv–lviii, and Georges Posener, “Sur
l’ emploi de l’ encre rouge dans les manuscrits égyptiens,” JEA 37 (1951): 75–80.
manuscripts, scribes, and book production 25
1.3. Size
Although Christian codices were produced in a wide range of sizes—with
heights ranging from 41 to 2.9cm.—the average height of codices in the
second and third centuries exceeded 20cm.45 This range is borne out in some
of our most significant New Testament manuscripts, P45 (20.4 × 25.4 cm.46),
P52 (18×21.3cm.47), and P75 (13× 26cm.). The width of codices also varied over
a wide range, but papyrus codices tended to be more narrow in width than
their parchment counterparts, with the height often being twice the width
(as can be seen in P52 and P P75 just mentioned above).48 In contrast to the
common oblong shape of papyrus codices, parchment codices had a more
equal height and width, creating a more square shape.49 The more narrow
format of the papyrus codex is possibly due to the fact that the sheets of the
codex were typically cut from a manufactured roll of papyrus.50 The height
of the codex was determined by the height of the roll,51 but the width of
the codex was determined by the length of the sheets that were cut (which
would then be folded in half to form a codex). Although, in principle, the
sheets of the codex could be cut at any length desired, the standard practice
was to try to avoid the seams on the roll where the papyrus sheets had been
glued together (known as kolleseis). Given this limitation on the length of
the sheet, it would naturally create a codex with a more narrow width when
that sheet was folded in half.
One noteworthy feature of early Christian books is the phenomenon of
the “miniature” codex (defined by Turner as less than 10 cm. wide). Small
codices were not rare in the ancient world and most likely were designed
for private use.52 Despite their small size, some could contain a surprising
number of pages.53 The advent of miniature parchment codices in secular
degree of accuracy.
48 See Turner’s group 8 (Typology, 20). Of course, there are numerous papyrus codices that
are wide (e.g., P.Oxy. 2258, 37 × 28 cm.) or have a more square format (e.g., P66, 14.2×16.2cm.).
49 The only parchment codex mentioned by Turner with a height that is twice its width
be made shorter than the roll if further cuts were made (Turner, Typology, 50–51).
52 Roberts, Manuscript, 10–11.
53 The Mani Codex is the smallest known miniature codex and is about the size of a
matchbox (3.5 × 4.5 cm.), yet still contains 192 pages. For more discussion, see A. Henrichs
26 michael j. kruger
literature can be dated back to the time of Martial where classical authors
(e.g., Homer, Virgil, Cicero) were put in the format of pugillaribus mem-
braneis for the private use of the literate upper class.54 However, this inno-
vation did not appear to meet with much success and in the later years of
Martial’s publishing there are no more references to the miniature parch-
ment codex. The popular return of the pocket codex in the fourth century
can be attributed in large part to early Christian communities. The fact that
47 of the 55 codices listed by Turner are Christian demonstrates that it was
a favored format among private Christian book owners.55 These tiny books
were often quite elegant and provided convenient and portable access to
various forms of Christian literature. Roberts sums it up well, “They are
best regarded not as amulets but as devotional handbooks for the well-to-
do.”56
The majority of the miniature codices are on parchment and not on
papyrus. Of the 55 codices Turner catalogs, 45 are on parchment, composing
over 80% of the known miniature codices.57 For that reason, most of these
tiny books date to the fourth century and later, although some do appear
earlier (e.g. P.Oxy 849; P.Lit.Lond. 204, both third century). Also, miniature
codices preserve a surprising number of non-canonical texts: the Shepherd
and L. Koenen, “Ein griechischer Mani-Codex (P.Colon. inv. nr. 4780),” ZPE 5 (1970): 97–216.
Other miniature codices also contained an impressive number of pages. The Acts of Peter,
P.Oxy. 849 (early fourth century), contains the page numbers 167 and 168 in the top margin.
54 Roberts and Skeat, The Birth of the Codex, 27.
55 Turner, Typology, 22, 29–30. Curiously, Turner does not include P.Ryl. 3.463 which is a
page from a third century miniature codex (9.9× 8.9), containing the Gospel of Mary, though
this could be because of some ambiguity about its original size. The fact that the vast number
of miniature codices are Christian has spurred speculation that the miniature codex was
a distinctively Christian invention. Roberts declares, “On present evidence the miniature
codex would seem to be a Christian invention” (Manuscript, 12). Gamble takes a more
moderate approach, “The miniature format was, if not a uniquely Christian phenomenon,
one heavily favored by Christians” (Books and Readers, 236).
56 Roberts, Manuscript, 11.
57 This figure is nearly the exact opposite of the material used for amulets, where 73 out of
93 are on papyrus (78 %) according to J. van Haelst, Catalogue des Papyrus Littéraires Juifs et
Chrétiens (Paris: Publications de la Sorbonne, 1976). The tendency to use papyrus for amulets
seems to have little to do with the dates of these texts. According to van Haelst, virtually all
amulets are fourth century or later, and the majority of these are concentrated in the fifth
and sixth centuries—which would have been a quite natural time to use parchment. Thus,
it seems possible that early Christians viewed amulets and miniature codices as distinct
literary forms requiring different materials. For more discussion of amulets and miniature
codices, see Michael J. Kruger, “P.Oxy. 840: Amulet or Miniature Codex?,” JTS 53 (2002): 81–
94; and Thomas J. Kraus, “P.Oxy. V 840—Amulett oder Miniaturkodex? Grundsätzliche unde
ergänzende Anmerkungen zu zwei Termini,” ZAC 8 (2004): 485–497.
manuscripts, scribes, and book production 27
of Hermas (P.Oxy. 1783 [V.H. 659]),58 Acts of Peter (P.Oxy. 849 [V.H. 603]),
Acts of Paul and Thecla (P.Ant. 1.13 [V.H. 610] and P.Ant 1.6 [V.H. 609]), an
apocryphal gospel (P.Oxy. 840 [V.H. 585]), Protevangelium of James (P.Grenf.
1.8 [V.H. 601]), Didache (P.Oxy. 1782 [V.H. 642]),59 the Apocalypse of Peter
(V.H. 619),60 the Life of Mani (P.Colon. inv. 4780 [V.H. 1072]), Bel and the
Dragon (Bodl. gr. bib. d2 [V.H. 323, 1083, palimpsest]), the Gospel of Mary
(P.Ryl. 3.463 [V.H. 1065]), VI Ezra (P.Oxy. 1010 [V.H. 574]), Tobit (P.Oxy. 1594
[V.H. 82]), and the Apocalypse (P.Oxy. 1080 [V.H. 561]).61 In contrast to larger
codices designed for public use, the tiny format of these books allowed
them to be easily carried on journeys, quickly referred to in the context
of conversations (perhaps evangelistic discussions), and conveniently hid
during times of persecution (e.g., Diocletian). Furthermore, the abundance
of apocryphal literature in these miniature codices indicates that private
books may have been a primary means of promulgating literature that had
not been approved by ecclesiastical authorities.62
58 The abbreviation “V.H.” refers to the catalog of van Haelst mentioned above.
59 See also R.H. Connolly, “New Fragments of the Didache,” JTS 25 (1924): 151–153.
60 See also K. Prümm, “De genuino Apocalypsis Petri textu,” Bib 10 (1929): 62–80 and
M.R. James, “The Rainer Fragment of the Apocalypse of Peter,” JTS 32 (1931): 270–279.
61 To some, Revelation was seen as non-canonical.
62 Gamble, Books and Readers, 236.
63 Roberts, Manuscript, 14. It is important to note that some literary papyri of classical
works were also written in a rather plain, unadorned, and non-callographic hand (e.g. P.Oxy.
1809, 2076, 2288). However, E.G. Turner does not necessarily consider this as an indication
of low scribal quality; indeed, he declares that “ ‘calligraphic’ hands are suspect … It is not
uncommon for the finest looking hands to be marred by gross carelessness in transcription”
(“Scribes and Scholars,” in A.K. Bowman et al. [eds.], Oxyrhynchus: A City and Its Texts
[London: Egypt Exploration Society, 2007], 258–259).
64 Examples of the use of spacing in Christian manuscripts include P.Egerton 2 (second
century); P46 (late second century); P.Dura inv. 24 (third century); P75 (third century); P100
(third/fourth century); P115 (third/fourth century); P.Oxy. 1080 (fourth century); the Chester
Beatty Melito (fourth century); Codex Sinaiticus (fourth century); Codex Alexandrinus (fifth
century). Examples of Greek texts that leave spaces include, Hypomnema on Homer, Iliad,
28 michael j. kruger
enlarged letter at the beginning of a line (or new sentence).65 Although this
style did not share the elegance and artistry of the typical literary script,
it was not as rough and rapidly written as most documentary papyri. The
practical and no-frills hand of early Christian scribes simply “suggests an
interest in the content of the text that is more or less indifferent to its
appearance.”66
Lest one construe the early stages of Christian handwriting as unpro-
fessional, Roberts is quick to point out that “a degree of regularity and
clarity is aimed at and achieved.”67 Although early Christian papyri cer-
tainly exhibit a mix of literary and documentary features, Hanes-Eitzen
acknowledges that early Christian papyri “appear toward the literary end
of the spectrum.”68 Moreover, the fact that a number of early Christian
B.M. Pap. 2055; Thucydides I.2.P. Hamb. 646; and Menander, Sikyonios, P.Sorbonne, Inv.
2272b. For more discussion, see W.H.P. Hatch, The Principal Uncial Manuscripts of the New
Testament (Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 1939), 3 and Kenyon, Palaeography, 26–
27. E.J. Revell, “The Oldest Evidence for the Hebrew Accent System,” BJRL 54 (1971): 214–222,
esp. 214–215, notes that a number of texts from Qumran exhibit such spacing in order to mark
various divisions in the text, showing that spacing is one of the earliest forms of punctuation
in the ancient world.
65 Such enlarged first letters were often employed in documentary papyri for the opening
word of a text, for the name of the addressee, and for the beginning of new sections or sen-
tences; e.g., two second century documentary texts, Gnomon of the Idios Logos and P.Brem. 5.
However, it should be noted that such a practice was not unheard of in Roman or Ptolemaic
literary papyri: P.Oxy. 2161 (Aeschylus, Dictyulci); P.Oxy. 1373 (Aristophanes, Equites); P.Oxy.
1235 (Hypotheses to Menander); P.Oxy. 1182 (Demosthenes, De Falsa Legatione); P.Oxy. 473
(Honorary Decree). See E.G. Turner, Greek Manuscripts of the Ancient World (2nd ed.; Lon-
don: Institute of Classical Studies, 1987), 9, for more detailed discussion. Although enlarged
initial letters are found in some of our earliest Christian texts—P.Egerton 2 (second cen-
tury), P.Ant. 1.12 (third century), Chester Beatty Numbers and Deuteronomy (second/third
century), Chester Beatty Ezekiel (third century)—the practice did not become abundant
or pronounced until the fourth century or later as can be seen in texts like Chester Beatty
Melito (fourth century), P.Berlin inv. 6747 (fourth century), Codex Alexandrinus (fifth cen-
tury), Codex Bezae (fifth century).
66 Gamble, Books and Readers, 71; emphasis mine. William Johnson points out that much
of the elegance of the literary manuscripts in the Greco-Roman world was due to the fact
that “the literary roll exemplifies high culture not just in the demonstration that the owner is
‘literate’ and educated, but by means of aesthetics the bookroll also points to the refinement
of the owner … In ancient society, that reading was largely an elitist phenomenon was
accepted as a matter of course” (“Towards a Sociology of Reading in Classical Antiquity,” AJP
121 [2000]: 613, 615). It is possible, then, that early Christians, concerned not with establishing
their own elite status but reaching to the common man, would have (initially) constructed
their manuscripts not as objects of art or indicators of status, but in a manner primarily
concerned with content and accessibility.
67 Roberts, Manuscript, 14.
68 Hanes-Eitzen, Guardians of Letters, 65. The general distinction between “literary” and
manuscripts, scribes, and book production 29
“documentary” papyri has come under criticism as some scholars have challenged the sharp
dichotomy that is often draw between the two. For more on this point see, Turner, Greek
Papyri, vi–vii; Roger A. Pack, The Greek and Latin Literary Texts from Greco-Roman Egypt (2nd
ed.; Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 1967), 1; and Eldon Jay Epp, “New Testament
Papyrus Manuscripts and Letter Carrying in Greco-Roman Times,” in B.A. Pearson et al.
(eds.), The Future of Early Christianity: Essays in Honor of Helmut Koester (Minneapolis:
Fortress, 1991), 39–40.
69 E.g., P.Mich. 130 (Shepherd of Hermas; third century) and P.Ryl. 1.1 (Deuteronomy;
third/fourth century) contain a surprising number of accents and other lectional aids. Such
features indicated that many early Christian books were written for public reading; for more
on this see, Gamble, Books and Readers, 203–230.
70 Roberts, Manuscript, 23.
71 Roberts, Manuscript, 23.
72 Kenyon, The Chester Beatty Biblical Papyri, vol. 3/1, ix.
73 Roberts, Manuscript, 23. For a discussion on dating these fragments see Skeat, “The
teristics (Salt Lake City: University of Utah Press, 1968), 82, n. 20.
75 Studies on the nomina sacra include Ludwig Traube, Nomina Sacra: Versuch einer
Geschichte der christlichen Kürzung (Munich: Beck, 1907); A.H.R.E. Paap, Nomina Sacra in
the Greek Papyri of the First Five Centuries (Leiden: E.J. Brill, 1959); Jose O’Callaghan, Nomina
Sacra in Papyrus Graecis Saeculi III Neotestamentariis (Rome: Biblical Institute Press, 1970);
S. Brown, “Concerning the Origin of the Nomina Sacra,” SPap 9 (1970): 7–19; G. Howard,
“The Tetragram and the New Testament,” JBL 96 (1977): 63–83; Roberts, Manuscript, 26–48;
30 michael j. kruger
Larry W. Hurtado, “The Origin of the Nomina Sacra: A Proposal,” JBL 117 (1998): 655–673;
C.M. Tuckett, “ ‘Nomina Sacra’: Yes and No?,” in J.M. Auwers and H.J. De Jonge (eds.), The
lower case d?
Biblical Canons (Leuven: Leuven University Press, 2003), 431–458.
76 Although these fifteen are the most common, scribes occasionally experimented with
new/different words as nomina sacra. Examples of such variants can be found in P.Egerton
2 and P.Oxy. 1008 (P15). For other examples of variants of nomina sacra see Kurt Aland
(ed.), Repertorium der griechischen christlichen Papyri, I, Biblische Papyri (Berlin: de Gruyter,
1976), 420–428 and Bruce M. Metzger, Manuscripts of the Bible: An Introduction to Greek
Palaeography (New York: Oxford University Press, 1981), 36–37.
77 For various approaches, see Kurt Treu, “Die Bedeutung des Griechischen für die Juden
im römischen Reich,” Kairos 15 (1973): 123–144; Robert A. Kraft, “The ‘Textual Mechanics’
of Early Jewish LXX/OG Papyri and Fragments,” in Scot McKendrick and Orlaith O’Sullivan
(eds.), The Bible as Book: The Transmission of the Greek Text (London: British Library, 2003),
51–72; Trobisch, The First Edition of the New Testament, 11–19; Hurtado, “The Origin of the
Nomina Sacra,” 655–673; Brown, “Concerning the Origin of the Nomina Sacra,” 7–19.
78 Most notably, it appears the nomina sacra are found in our earliest New Testament
fragment, P52. This has been challenged by Christopher M. Tuckett, “P52 and the Nomina
Sacra,” NTS 47 (2001): 544–548. For responses to Tuckett see Charles E. Hill, “Did the Scribe
of P52 Use the Nomina Sacra? Another Look,” NTS 48 (2002): 587–592, and Larry W. Hurtado,
“P52 (P.Rylands Gk. 457) and the Nomina Sacra: Method and Probability,” TynBul 54 (2003):
1–14. Nomina sacra are found not only in Greek MSS, but also in Latin, Coptic, Slavonic
and Armenian. Furthermore, they are widely found in apocryphal texts (P.Egerton 2, Gospel
of Thomas, P.Oxy. 840), amulets (see Campbell Bonner, Studies in Magical Amulets [Ann
Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 1950], 185, 223), and other Christian literature. The rare
exceptions occur in private documents, magical texts (e.g., P.Oxy. 407), or from oversights of
a careless scribe (e.g., P.Oxy. 656; Traube, Nomina Sacra, 90). For more detail, see Roberts,
Manuscript, 27.
manuscripts, scribes, and book production 31
Now that we have examined (briefly) the mechanics of how early Christian
books, particularly scriptural books, were produced, we now turn our atten-
tion to the manner in which these books were copied and transmitted in the
earliest centuries (first through third) of the Christian faith. Since this sub-
ject is far too vast to cover in detail here, we will provide a general overview,
focusing upon Christian scribes and some key aspects of how books were
published and circulated.
79 Tuckett, “Nomina Sacra,” 431–458 challenges this conception of the nomina sacra.
that it does not provide any evidence for organization and structure amongst early Christian
scribes (Guardians of Letters, 92–94). She bases this argument on the fact that scribes were
not always consistent in the words they abbreviated. However, she overplays the amount
of disparity in regard to the way nomina sacra were employed. To be sure, there were
differences amongst various scribes, but the overall pattern is still intact (particularly as
it pertains to the four main epithets: ᾽Ιησοῦς, χριστός, κύριος, and θεός). Moreover, even if
one were to grant that scribes were routinely inconsistent in the way they used the nomina
sacra, one still has to explain its early and dominant appearance. The scribal convention
still demands an explanation, even if it is inconsistently applied. With this in mind, Hanes-
Eitzen’s explanation that the nomina sacra originated from (and were disseminated through)
only haphazard scribal relationships seems inadequate. If this were the case, we would expect
the adoption of the nomina sacra to be gradual and slow—precisely the opposite of what we
find.
81 Skeat, “Early Christian Book-Production,” 73.
82 Eldon Jay Epp, “The Significance of the Papyri for Determining the Nature of the New
Testament Text in the Second Century: A Dynamic View of Textual Transmission,” in Eldon
Jay Epp and Gordon D. Fee, Studies in the Theory and Method of New Testament Textual
Criticism (SD 45; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1993), 288.
32 michael j. kruger
83Hanes-Eitzen, Guardians of Letters, 68. For some other general works on scribes in the
ancient world, see E. Randolph Richards, The Secretary in the Letters of Paul (WUNT 2.42;
Tübingen: J.C.B. Mohr, 1991); L.D. Reynolds and N.G. Wilson, Scribes and Scholars: A Guide to
the Transmission of Greek and Latin Literature (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1968); Elaine Fan-
tham, Roman Literary Culture from Cicero to Apuleius (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University
Press, 1996); Turner, “Scribes and Scholars,” 256–261; E.G. Turner, “Roman Oxyrhynchus,”
JEA 38 (1952): 78–93; Peter Parsons, “Copyists of Oxyrhynchus,” in A.K. Bowman et al. (eds.),
Oxyrhynchus: A City and Its Texts (London: Egypt Exploration Society, 2007), 262–270; and
Johnson, Bookrolls and Scribes in Oxyrhynchus.
84 Hanes-Eitzen, Guardians of Letters, 39. We have evidence from practice exercises pre-
served on Greco-Roman papyri that a single scribe was often capable of writing in very
contrasting styles, ranging from formal bookhand to informal cursive (e.g., P.Oxy. 4669;
P.Köln IV.175). We should be careful, therefore, to assume the hand of a particular manuscript
tells us everything about the training/ability of the scribe. For more, see Parsons “Copyists of
Oxyrhynchus,” 269–270.
85 Hanes-Eitzen, Guardians of Letters, 68. Of course, this is not to suggest that every
Christian manuscript was copied by a professional scribe. Undoubtedly, there would have
been instances where a non-professional scribe would have undertaken the task of copying
a manuscript; e.g., P72, a codex containing 1 and 2 Peter amongst various other works is
clearly copied by a non-professional scribe. In addition, The Shepherd of Hermas recounts
how Hermas copied a book himself even though he admits “I copied the whole thing, letter by
letter, for I could not distinguish between the syllables” (2.1.4). It is unclear whether Hermas
should be viewed as typical of Christian practice, but it should be noted that this same
practice also occurred in the Greco-Roman world; e.g., Atticus mentions a scribe that he uses
on occasion that cannot follow whole sentences but where words must be given “syllable by
syllable” (Att. 13.25).
manuscripts, scribes, and book production 33
named Athenagoras and, at the same time, copied literary texts such as
Chaereas and Callirhoe.86 Cicero also employed scribes who not only
received dictated letters and copied letters, but also copied various literary
works; and the scribes were often mentioned by name (Att. 4.16; 12.14; 13.25).
One of the earliest Christian uses of such a scribe can be seen in Paul’s use
of an amanuensis, Tertius, who also is identified by name in Rom 16:22: “I,
Tertius, the one writing this letter, greet you all in the Lord.”87 Thus, there
are reasons to think Christians would have had ready access to professional
scribal assistance, either by way of hiring scribes to do work, by using slaves
who were scribes and owned by well-to-do Christians, or by using scribes
who had converted to Christianity and were willing to provide secretarial
assistance. Hanes-Eitzen notes, “There is no reason to suppose that liter-
ate Christians who wished for copies of literature had substantially different
resources from those of other literate folk in the empire.”88 As for whether
private (as opposed to commercial) copying would necessitate a drop in
quality, Gamble declares, “There is no reason to think that commercially
produced books were of higher quality than privately made copies. Indeed,
frequent complaints suggest they were often worse.”89 He goes on to note,
“The private copyists … were as a rule more skilled than those employed by
booksellers.”90
91 For discussion of reading books in early Christian worship, see Martin Hengel, “The
Titles of the Gospels and the Gospel of Mark,” in Studies in the Gospel of Mark (London: SCM
Press, 1985), 64–84. See also Justin Martyr, 1 Apol. 67.3.
92 Gamble, Books and Readers, 84.
93 E. Randolph Richards, “The Codex and the Early Collection of Paul’s Letters,” BBR 8
(1998): 151–166; David Trobisch, Paul’s Letter Collection: Tracing the Origins (Minneapolis:
Fortress, 1994); Gamble, Books and Readers, 100–101. Cicero illumines the Greco-Roman
practice of keeping copies of (and even publishing) one’s own letters, “There is no collection
of my letters, but Tiro has about seventy, and some can be got from you. Those I ought to
see and correct, and then they may be published” (Att. 16.5.5). Also, as Plutarch records, after
Alexander set fire to his secretary’s tent he regretted the fact that all the copies of his letters
were destroyed; so much so that he sent new letters to various people asking for copies of
the letters he had originally sent (Eum. 2.2–3).
manuscripts, scribes, and book production 35
And so, you will write two little books, sending one to Clement and one to
Grapte. Clement will send his to the foreign cities, for that is his commission.
But, Grapte will admonish the widows and orphans. And you will read yours
in the city, with the presbyters who lead the church. (Hermas 2.4.3)
This passage reveals an impressively organized system for publication and
distribution of Christian literature, likely by the early second century.94 After
making two copies of the revelation he has received (“two little books”),
Hermas is to give those copies to two selected individuals who will then
make copies for their constituencies, while Hermas takes the book to his
own constituency (“the presbyters”). It is clear that Clement and Grapte are
secretaries or correspondents of sorts given the special task of making sure
these texts are copied and distributed (“for that is his commission”).95 In
fact, Gamble refers to Clement’s role here as an “ecclesiastical publisher, a
standing provision in the Roman church for duplicating and distributing
texts to Christian communities elsewhere.”96 And if Rome retained such a
system for copying, publishing, and circulating Christian literature, then
we might reasonably expect other major Christian centers like Jerusalem,
Alexandria, and Caesarea to have similar structures.97
Third, we learn more about early publication and circulation practices in
the early second-century letter of Polycarp Bishop of Smyrna to the Philip-
pians to which he attached the collected letters of Ignatius.98 The historical
details surrounding this letter from Polycarp tell us that after Ignatius had
written various letters to churches (some of which he wrote from Smyrna),
94 For discussion of the date of the Shepherd, see The Apostolic Fathers (trans. Bart D. Ehr-
writer of 1 Clement. Regardless, it is clear that this individual is charged with the copying
and distribution of books, whether he does it himself or has scribes at his disposal who will
perform the task. Either way, a well-established publishing network is still visible here.
96 Gamble, Books and Readers, 109; emphasis mine.
97 The fact that these major Christian centers contained established Christian libraries
makes publication and copying resources all the more likely. For example, the library at
Caesarea was established by the early third century (Jerome, Vir. ill. 112; Eusebius, Hist.
eccl. 7.32.25), and contained extensive resources for copying, editing, and publishing biblical
manuscripts (some colophons in biblical manuscripts, like Sinaiticus, indicate manuscripts
were collated and corrected there even by Pamphilus and Eusebius themselves). Jerusalem
also contained a library by the early third century (Hist eccl. 6.20.1), and most likely Alexan-
dria as well (as can be seen by the extensive literary work and possible “catechetical school”
in Alexandria under Pantaenus, Clement, and Origen; Hist. eccl. 5.10, 6.3.3). For more discus-
sion, see Gamble, Books and Readers, 155–159.
98 For dating and other introductory detail, see Ehrman, The Apostolic Fathers, 2:324–
331.
36 michael j. kruger
the following occurred within a very short frame of time:99 (i) the Philippians
sent a letter to Polycarp asking for a copy of Ignatius’s letters and also sent
along another letter for Polycarp to forward onto Antioch (Phil. 13.1–2); (ii)
next Polycarp collected the epistles of Ignatius and had them copied; (iii)
then Polycarp sent a letter back to the Philippians with a copy of Ingatius’s
letter collection; (iv) and finally, at the same time, Polycarp forwarded a let-
ter from the Philippians’ onto Antioch—something he appeared to be doing
for many churches (Phil. 13.1–2).100 This dizzying amount of literary traffic
raises two important points: (a) Smyrna appears to have been a veritable
“beehive” of activity in regard to letter-writing, copying, and distribution,
showing that they not only had the scribal infrastructure to handle this
sort of activity, but an ecclesiastical network between churches that made
such activity a necessity.101 (b) Given the short time frame in which Poly-
carp was able to collect Ignatius’ seven letters, it appears this could only
have been done if Polycarp already had copies of the letters that Ignatius
had sent from Smyrna when the Philippians made their request. This sug-
gests that when Ignatius originally wrote from Smyrna, copies of his letters
must have been made before they were sent out (and those copies were
then stored at Smyrna).102 Indeed, this is suggested by Polycarp’s statement
that he is sending not only the letters that “[Ignatius] sent to us” but “all
the others we had with us” (Phil. 13.1). Not only does this scenario suggest
that Smyrna was somewhat of a publishing “hub,” but it reflects a similar
pattern that we saw in Paul’s epistles—authors often made copies of their
letters before they were sent so that later collections could be made and
published.
Fourth, we continue to learn about the transmission and publication
of early Christian books in the account of the scribal resources available
to Origen in Alexandria in the early third century. According to Eusebius,
Ambrose had supplied Origen with a well-staffed literary team including
“seven shorthand-writers … many copyists … [and] girls skilled in pen-
manship” (Hist. eccl. 6.23.2). It appears that Ambrose supplied this liter-
ary team so that Origen’s work could be extensively copied, corrected, and
99 Gamble suggests no more than a couple of weeks (Books and Readers, 110).
100 Apparently the Phillipians’ request to have Polycarp forward a letter to Antioch was
part of a larger pattern of churches sending letters to Polycarp to forward to Antioch. These
letters were being sent at the behest of Ignatius who asked that letters be sent to Antioch
(Smyrn. 11.3).
101 Gamble, Books and Readers, 112.
102 Gamble, Books and Readers, 110–111.
manuscripts, scribes, and book production 37
103 Indeed, a number of details suggest this possibility. Irenaeus produced Adversus haere-
ses in multiple stages and yet it found its way around the empire quite rapidly in its com-
pleted form, suggesting substantial scribal and publishing resources in Gaul (more on this
below). The third edition of Tertullian’s work, Adversus Marcionem, so quickly replaced the
prior two editions that it must have been copied quickly and in great quantities, suggesting
again that substantial publishing resources must have been available in Carthage to publish
such a lengthy work in this fashion (Gamble, Books and Readers, 121). As for Cyprian, not
only were his collected works published soon after his death—accounting for why so many
survived—but he seemed to promote the copying and dissemination of works during his
own lifetime (Ep. 32), again implying a degree of scribal resources at his disposal.
104 Although the extent of the canon was not yet resolved by the end of the second century,
by that time there was a core set of New Testament books that would have been highly
esteemed and regarded as “Scripture” alongside the Old Testament. See, Justin Martyr, 1 Apol.
67.3; Barton, Spirit and the Letter, 18; Metzger, The Canon of the New Testament, 254.
105 Eldon J. Epp, “The New Testament Papyri at Oxyrhynchus in their social and intellec-
tual context,” in William L. Petersen (ed.), Sayings of Jesus: Canonical and Non-Canonical
(Leiden: E.J. Brill, 1997), 47–68; Peter M. Head, “Some Recently Published NT Papyri From
Oxyrhynchus: An Overview and Preliminary Assessment,” TynBul 51 (2000): 1–16. For more
on the site of Oxyrhynchus as a whole, see AnneMarie Luijendijk, Greetings in the Lord:
Early Christians in the Oxyrhynchus Papyri (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2008);
P.J. Parsons, et al. (eds.), Oxyrhynchus: A City and Its Texts (London: Egypt Exploration Soci-
ety, 2007); Turner, “Roman Oxyrhynchus,” 78–93.
106 Epp, “The New Testament Papyri at Oxyrhynchus,” 52. According to Peter Head, there
were 47 New Testament papyri from Oxyrhynchus when the total count was 115 (“Some
38 michael j. kruger
Recently Published NT Papyri,” 6). With the addition of P.Oxy. 4803, 4804, 4805, 4806, 4844,
and 4845, the total count of New Testament papyri from Oxyrhynchus is 53. Thus, 53 out
of the overall 124 New Testament papyri come from Oxyrhynchus (42%). Of course, this is
just an approximate number because it does not account for the fact that some of the more
recently discovered papyri are actually portions of prior known manuscripts (e.g., P.Oxy.
4405 is a new portion of P77). Though done at an earlier point, this same percentage is
reached by Eldon Jay Epp, “The Oxyrhynchus New Testament Papyri: ‘Not Without Honor
Except in Their Hometown?,’ ” JBL 123 (2004): 12. When one considers the fact that many
of our NT papyri have unknown provenances (e.g. P52), and may have actually come from
Oxyrhynchus, then this percentage could be even higher.
107 E.g., relatively recent Oxyrhynchus discoveries P.Oxy. 4403 and 4404 contain notice-
able serifs and consequently have been dated to the late second/early third century.
108 Dieter Lührmann, “P.Oxy. 2949: EvPet 3–5 in einer Handschrift des 2/3 Jahrhunderts,”
ZNW 72 (1981): 216–226; Dieter Lührmann, “P.Oxy. 4009: Ein neues Fragment des Petruse-
vangeliums?,” NovT 35 (1993): 390–410. Recently, the identification of these fragments with
the Gospel of Peter has been challenged by Paul Foster, “Are there any Early Fragments of the
So-Called Gospel of Peter?,” NTS 52 (2006): 1–28.
109 Roberts, Manuscript, 24 n5. For a more detailed catalogue of Oxyrhynchus papyri, see
Julian Krüger, Oxyrhynchos in der Kaiserzeit: Studien zur Topographie und Literaturrezeption
(Frankfurt: Peter Lang, 1990).
110 Epp, “The New Testament Papyri at Oxyrhynchus,” 60. The documentary papyri dis-
covered at Oxyrhynchus continue to support the idea that there was extensive copying and
publishing of literary works at this site; e.g., P.Lond.inv. 2110, a second-century letter likely
from Oxyrhynchus, details payments to a scribe for copying literary works. Roberts declares
that this letter (and others like it) suggests “there was a good deal of actual copying of classi-
cal texts, perhaps in a scriptorium or a library, at Oxyrhynchus itself” (“Roman Oxyrhynchus,”
90). This is supported by the vast amount of papyrus sold at Oxyrhynchus as shown by other
documentary papyri (e.g, P.Oxy. 1142, 1727). Dirk Obbink declares that “the Oxyrhynchus
papyri abundantly provide the basis … for concluding that it was a lively center of learn-
ing in the first four centuries ad” (“Readers and Intellectuals,” in Oxyrhynchus: A City and Its
Texts, ed. A.K. Bowman, et al. [London: Egypt Exploration Society, 2007], 281).
manuscripts, scribes, and book production 39
date of ce100 defended by K. Aland, “Neue neutestamentliche Papyri II,” NTS 9 (1962–1963):
303–316.
115 Gamble, Books and Readers, 140–141. For more on the circulation of ancient manu-
scripts, see Epp, “New Testament Papyrus Manuscripts and Letter Carrying in Greco-Roman
Times,” 35–56.
40 michael j. kruger
3. Conclusion
The above survey, although far too brief and limited in scope, reveals that
earliest Christianity was not a religion concerned only with oral tradition
or public proclamation, but was also shaped by, and found its identity
within, a vivid “textual culture” committed to writing, editing, copying, and
distributing Christian books, whether scriptural or otherwise. When the
form and structure of these books is considered, and not just the content
within, a more vivid picture of the early Christian literary culture begins
to emerge. From a very early point, Christians not only had an interest in
books, but had a relatively well-developed social and scribal network—
as seen in conventions like the codex and nomina sacra—whereby those
books could be copied, edited, and disseminated throughout the empire.
Indeed, it is just this rapid transfer of literature that set early Christians apart
from their surrounding Greco-Roman world, and set the early church on the
path toward eventually establishing a collection of “canonical” books that
would form the church’s literary foundation for generations to come.