In just two short verses in the Letter to the Romans, Paul uses two intriguing terms to introduce the person of Phoebe. The New Revised Standard Version renders Romans 16:1-2 as follows: “I commend to you our sister Phoebe, a deacon (diakonos) of the church at Cenchreae, so that you may welcome her in the Lord as is fitting for the saints, and help her in whatever she may require from you, for she has been a benefactor (prostatis) of many and of myself as well.”[1]
A great deal of hand-wringing and gnashing of teeth has resulted from Paul referring to Phoebe as diakonos, particularly from those quarters of the Church that insist on the historicity of male-only ecclesiastical leadership. This is frequently side-stepped by arguing that this really meant “servant” in the mid-first century, rather than a formalized role. Yet Romans 16:1-2 is the only place in the New Testament where a woman is referred to as both a deacon and benefactor/patron, and it’s the combination of the two terms in the same breath that make this so clearly about someone with authority in the church. But what kind of authority? What did it mean to serve/lead the church at Cenchreae as a benefactor/patron?
Phoebe was somehow both a servant and benefactor/patron of the church at Cenchreae, an intriguing combination of titles that suggests there was a broader reimagining of what it means to hold wealth and power in the first few decades of the church. My basic question is this: In light of the Gospels’ complex - even antagonistic - attitude toward wealth and power, how did the early church incorporate benefactors/patrons like Phoebe? It appears that part of the way early Christianity resolved the need for benefactors/patrons was by emphasizing the supportive, servant-like role patronage could take, and I will conclude by looking at three images Christianity used to frame this role. These include images of hospitality, the support an elm tree gave to a fruiting vine, and the Christianization of the traditionally pagan image of the good shepherd as a model of philanthropy.
----
Paul’s introduction of Phoebe in Romans 16:1-2 suggests that by the mid to late 50s CE, there were wealthier women who were serving as benefactors/patrons of the church. It is significant that Paul describes Phoebe as a diakonos of the church at Cenchreae and prostatis of “many and of myself as well.”
In her book on Phoebe, New Testament scholar Joan Cecilia Campbell notes that prostatis is a specific term for a female benefactor/patron, and Phoebe’s patronage should be understood through the lens of women’s patronage in Roman society: “Simply stated, the title prostatis accorded to Phoebe by Paul implies prestige. It is the feminine form of the masculine term prostatēs (‘ē’ is pronounced like a long ‘a’). While prostatēs often refers to the sponsor of a private association and includes the notion of social protection provided by that sponsor, prostatis is attributed to patron-goddesses and means ‘protectress’. More generally speaking, prostatēs connotes ‘one who looks out for the interests of others, defender, guardian, benefactor’ while prostatis refers to ‘a woman in a supportive role, a patron, or benefactor.’”[2]
Campbell’s observes that women and men exercised being benefactors/patrons in Roman society in different ways, and the patronage of women like Phoebe and Lydia of Thyratira (Acts 16:14-15) emphasized service, including “offering hospitality, hosting group meetings, and providing ‘material and cash gifts, food and dinner invitations, lodging, favorable recommendations and appointments, help in matchmaking, and bequests and inheritances.’ Often their resources went to less fortunate individuals and Jesus groups.”[3]
Of course, Jesus himself also appears to have emphasized service for both women and men alike, and it is striking to read descriptions of women’s patronage and then compare those roles to one of the instances in the Gospels where Jesus discusses the authority wielded by benefactors. In Luke 22.24-27, Jesus attempts to resolve a dispute about greatness among the disciples: “But he said to them, ‘The kings of the Gentiles lord it over them; and those in authority over them are called benefactors. But not so with you; rather the greatest among you must become like the youngest, and the leader like the one who serves.” Jesus continues by using an image that sounds very similar to Campbell’s description of women’s patronage in Roman society: “For who is greater, the one who is at the table or the one who serves? Is it not the one at the table? But I am among you as one who serves.”
What am I getting at here? Jesus is all about reversals, including how power, patronage, and wealth is wielded. In Luke 22.24-27, he shocks his disciples by emphasizing a model of authority and leadership that serves in the background. Whereas power and wealth worries itself over who is at the head of the table, and how closely one is seated to the head, Jesus points to the ignored server as where he identifies himself. Elsewhere in the New Testament, including in Romans 16:1-2 and Acts 16:14-15, we hear of “servant-benefactor” women who appear to embody the complex form of leadership role that Jesus describes. As described by Campbell, women’s patronage involved a form of holding wealth and power differently, often wielding this very real power through the framework of support and hospitality. I am wondering, then, if one of the ways Christianity dealt with wealthy and powerful people - women and men alike - was by emphasizing servant-benefactors as a more acceptable model of holding wealth and power in Christian community.
Phoebe's wealth
I keep referring to Phoebe as a wealthy woman benefactor/patron. But how wealthy was Phoebe? Was she a member of the Roman elite? This is a significant question as it raises the issue of how quickly the upper classes began to show up as members and benefactors/patrons of Christian assemblies.
In Remember the Poor, Bruce Longnecker places Phoebe within the economic category of the 7-15% of the Roman population of merchants, traders, freedpersons, artisans (especially those who employed others) and military veterans who primarily lived in urban areas and enjoyed some moderate surplus of wealth.[4] In this she may have been in a similar economic category to Lydia of Thyratira of Acts 16.14-15, who is described as “a dealer in purple cloth.”
Insomuch as Phoebe and Lydia were among that category of those enjoying moderate surplus wealth, they were therefore not members of the imperial & aristocratic elite (1-3%). While there were certainly people of moderate surplus wealth in the early Christian church - including women merchants and widows - who served as benefactors/patrons of congregations, it isn’t until the mid-third century that there’s a lot of decorative funerary evidence signaling the arrival of many members of elite at church.[5]
But if Phoebe wasn’t a member of the elite, neither was she a member of "the poor" who were either stable near subsistence (22-27%), at subsistence (30-40%), or below subsistence and therefore lacking necessary food, shelter, and clothing (25-28%).[6] Phoebe’s moderate wealth meant she stood apart from the 75-90% of the Roman world that lived close to subsistence level -- near, at, or below -- and were struggling for survival and sustenance on a daily basis.[7] Significantly, scholars like Helen Rhee hold that this latter category of “the poor” would have comprised the majority of the early Christian assemblies, and so even with moderate surplus wealth Phoebe would have been richer than the majority of people in the early assemblies and could have served as a benefactor to Paul and many others.
Other images of Christian Patronage
It's helpful to put the servant-benefactor model into conversation with two other images of Christian patronage - namely, the elm and the vine found in the Shepherd of Hermas, and the previously pagan image of the good shepherd which quickly became a symbol of Christian philanthropy.
Hospitality and Servant-Benefactors
In Luke 22.24-27, Jesus critiques the way that the disciples conceive greatness and power. He contrasts the way that “kings of the Gentiles lord it over them, and those in authority over them are called benefactors” and instead points to the person serving at a table as the model of power, leadership, and authority to follow. As noted above, this image has some striking parallels and resonance with the role of women benefactors/patrons like Phoebe in Romans 16:1-2 and Lydia in Acts 16:14-15. Speaking of Phoebe, the scholar Roman Garrison frames the seemingly contradictory role this way: “How could this woman take on the role of diakonos (a term suggesting servant status) and prostatis (a term suggesting wealth and privilege)? The former term implies subservience, even social stigma, while the latter implies independence and status, perhaps even economic power. Even if these were not clearly defined and distinct positions (or offices such as that of bishops in the second century) in first-century Christianity, does the Gospel tradition suggest that such combined ministry was encouraged?”[8] His essay goes on to essentially answer “yes”, that the servant-benefactor model ascribed to Phoebe, and the hospitality of Lydia, embodies Jesus’ understanding of power that appears in Luke 22.24-27, and even that this parable in Luke may have already been well-known by Paul when he was writing the Romans in the mid-fifties.
The Elm and the Vine:
The emphasis on service continues in the Shepherd of Hermas, a work from the middle of the second century that includes two fascinating images that address how patrons/benefactors are to deal with their power and wealth. For brevity’s sake, I’m only going to talk about one here -- that of the elm and the vine -- but I want to return to both images at a later time because together they reveal a fascinating discussion on how wealthy and powerful newcomers to Christianity had to cut away (literally) their own privilege before entering into the wider body of the church.
In the Shepherd of Hermas, the author compares the recently incorporated wealthy members of the church to the then-common agrarian practice of using elm trees as supports for fruiting grapevines. The wealthy are represented by the elm tree, a type of tree that, while not able to bear fruit, can nevertheless serve as a source of support and much-needed shade in times of drought. The poor are represented by the grapevine which bear fruit, but whose grapes are easily consumed by predators and destroyed by the heat when it does not have the support and shade of elm trees.
As fruitless elm trees, the wealthy are told they can atone for their wealth by becoming a quietly solid elm tree, offering support and shade in times of drought and famine, and - significantly - that it is the fruit of the poor they are supporting which ultimately redeems them: “As far as people are concerned, the elm does not seem to bear fruit, and they neither know nor realize that if a drought comes the elm, which has water, nourishes the vine, and the vine, having a constant supply of water, bears double the fruit, both for itself and for the elm. So also the poor, by appealing to the Lord on behalf of the rich, complement their wealth, and again, the rich, by providing for the needs of the poor, complement their souls.”[9]
The Good Shepherd:
 |
| Hermes as a good shepherd for souls. Such images would later become symbols for Christian philanthropy. |
As is the case with Jesus’ pointing to the server as an image of Christian patronage in Luke 22.24-27, and the image of the elm and the vine in the Shepherd of Hermas, the Good Shepherd is a symbol of gentle philanthropy about how to integrate wealth with service to the community and the needs of the poor. It is significant, I think, that the Gospel of John describes the good shepherd as laying down his life for his sheep, and that this image then came to be applied to philanthropy in later centuries. I think it’s fair to say that the early Christian communities were asking for something sacrificial of their wealthier members, both in terms of material support and in the ego-work of learning to adapt the role of an unseen server, an elm tree, and faithful shepherd.
Occasionally, I write posts and only realize at the very end what my original point should have been. This is certainly the case with this post on Phoebe who is described as both deacon and benefactor/patron in Romans 16:1-2. My point, essentially, is this: in the same way the Gospels have surprising messages about wealth, so too did Jesus have some rather surprising statements about power. Patronage is a place where both wealth and power come together as evidenced by Luke 22.24-27 in which Jesus gripes about kings lording power over others, and the authority held by benefactors. That he instead points to the often unseen, unnamed server at a table as his figure of greatness was indicative of a broader reimagining of how wealth and power could be wielded in Christian communities. In his essay on Phoebe, Roman Garrison sees this passage in Luke as directly connected to the servant-patronage of women like Phoebe whose wealth and power was expressed differently than male patronage. In images that echo the server in Luke 22, Joan Cecilia Campbell notes that women’s patronage was expressed in “offering hospitality, hosting group meetings, and providing ‘material and cash gifts, food and dinner invitations, lodging, favorable recommendations and appointments, help in matchmaking, and bequests and inheritances.’ Often their resources went to less fortunate individuals and Jesus groups.”[11] Later images of Christian patronage continue such themes, including the adaption of the good shepherd as a symbol of both gentleness and philanthropy toward the poor, as well as the image of the supportive elm tree that both shades and nourishes the fruiting vine. Significantly, all of these images imply sacrifice of both material wealth and ego; would-be wealthy patrons are asked to go from the head of the table to that of the server, the elm tree, and good shepherd. The challenge this model presented -- ahem, presents - to the fragile male ego, which is forever needing to be seen at the head of the table, as the captain of the ship, and pilot of the plane, is considerable, and it perhaps speaks to why there appear to have been so many more women patrons noted as benefactors/patrons of early Christianity than men.
________________
[1] Romans 16:1-2
[2] Campbell, Joan Cecelia. Phoebe (Pauls Social Network) Liturgical Press. Kindle Edition. Page 91
[3] Campbell, Joan Cecelia. Phoebe (Pauls Social Network) Liturgical Press. Kindle Edition. Page 103-104
[4] Longnecker, Bruce. See pages 241-242 and then pages 45 and 51 for an explanation of the ES4 and ES5 categories
[5] McCullough, Diarmaid. 160
[6] Rhee, Wealth and Poverty in Early Christianity, Loc 80
[7] Rhee, Helen. Loving the Poor, Saving the Rich: Wealth, Poverty, and Early Christian Formation, pages 5 and 11
[8] Roman Garrison’s chapter in Wilson, Stephen G., and Michel Desjardins. Text and Artifact in the Religions of Mediterranean Antiquity : Essays in Honour of Peter Richardson. Wilfrid Laurier University Press, 2006. EBSCOhost, search.ebscohost.com/login.aspx?direct=true&db=e025xna&AN=1423926&site=ehost-live&scope=site. Page 63
[9] Rhee, Helen. Wealth and Poverty in Early Christianity (Ad Fontes: Early Christian Sources) (p. 2). Augsburg Fortress. Kindle Edition. / Shepherd of Hermas. Location 682.
[10] McManners, John. The Oxford Illustrated History of Christianity. Oxford University Press: 1990. Page 38
[11] Campbell, Joan Cecelia. Phoebe (Pauls Social Network) Liturgical Press. Kindle Edition. Page 103-104
Comments
Post a Comment