DISPOSITIVOS DE SEGURIDAD PÁG INA
QUE ES LA PRESIÓN?
In the Jewish community of Rome, who were the patrons of sarcophagi? We have already discussed above some aspects related to sarcophagus patronage in the city of Rome. These tended to suggest that sarcophagi—made of expensive materials and found in special, more private chambers in the catacombs—were the reserve of a select group of wealthy elites. Based on this and the inscriptional evidence, we can suggest that the same held true within the Jewish community.
Eleven sarcophagi and sarcophagus fragments, roughly half of the known corpus, include inscriptions that are helpful in clarifying the patrons—and patronage practices— of the Jewish community.205 These inscriptions as a rule are brief and formulaic,
identifying the deceased and often including a title or honorific and ending with a benedictory phrase, typically some variation of “may they sleep in peace.”206 As was the
rule with inscriptions throughout the Jewish catacombs of Rome, Greek is the language of choice. All of the epitaphs are in Greek, with the exception of one in Latin.207 One, the
lid of the sarcophagus of Faustina with the word “shalom” appearing in Hebrew beside
205 Noy 1995, Nos. 277, 403, 527, 535, 540, 542, 544, 554, 558, 559, and 577. An additional possible inscription
is identified by Frey (1936a, No. 733c) as a fragment from the sarcophagus of Artimedora. This identification rests on the inclusion of the phrase “in peace” (ΕΝ ΕΙΡΗΝΗ) at the end of the inscription. This attribution is too tentative to include here in reconstructing the patronage practice of the Jewish community, however we will consider this fragment again in Chapter 6. See also Konikoff 1986, 44-5, No. 16. One other inscription, on the sarcophagus of Julia Irene Aristae, is sometimes identified as Jewish (e.g. Frey 1936a, No. 72), however it lacks provenance or specifically Jewish content. It was not included in Noy's more recent catalog (1995), nor is it included here.
206 In the Greek of the epitaphs: ΕΝ ΕΙΡΗΝΗ Η ΚΟΙΜΗΣΙΣ. The latter part, translated “the sleep” was
optional and often left off.
an incised group of Jewish ritual symbols, hardly qualifies as bilingual. Much has been made of the common use of Greek in the inscriptions of the sarcophagi, the
predominance of which is reflective of the trends observed throughout the Jewish catacombs of the city.208 Leon was the first to seize on this pattern, and, taking the
inscriptions to be representative of the spoken language of the community, concluded that the Jews of Rome spoke a Greek koine common among those of lower social class.209
At the same time, the predominance of Greek in the inscriptions of the Jewish community of Rome, including on their sarcophagi, stands in stark contrast to the general preference for Latin observed in the funerary contexts of other communities in Rome.210 To van der Horst, this suggested that the Jewish community “lived in relative
isolation” in Rome.211 Somewhat more cautiously, Rutgers seized on this fact to suggest
that the use of Greek was one way that the community marked their Jewish identity.212
Greek was very likely the language used in Jewish religious practice in diaspora communities, and, moreover, the language of the Bible.213
Any conclusions about the prevalence of Greek and its relationship to the spoken language of the Jewish community and, moreover, their cultural affinities, must be counted against the evidence of naming practices (onomastics). Both among Jewish
208 Where Greek inscriptions account for about 75% of the epitaphs. See Cappelletti 2006, 180.
209 Leon 1927; 1960.
210 See Rutgers 1995, 182-4.
211 van der Horst 2001, 22-3.
212 Rutgers 1995, 177-209.
sarcophagus patrons and the broader Jewish community, Latin names predominate in inscriptions in both Greek and Latin. Of seventeen names mentioned in inscriptions on sarcophagi, only four are transliterations of Hebrew names: Jonathan, Sarah, Maria and Mniaseas (Manasseh).214 The remainder are common Latin names—e.g. Julianus,
Marcella, Caelius Quintus or Faustina—or names of Greek extraction—e.g. Eudoxios, Silicius, Sophronia and Nicandrus.215 Rutgers takes the onomastic evidence in general to
indicate “more than a superficial acquaintance with Roman name-giving practices,” and a “lively interaction between Jews and non-Jews” in the city of Rome.216
All but two sarcophagus inscriptions (those of Eudoxios the painter and Faustina) include a mention of a title or honorific. This is a revealing fact for the consideration of the social position of Jewish sarcophagus patrons, and suggests that they may have been among the most prominent members of the community. In one inscription, belonging to the sarcophagus of Julianus, the elevated position of the family endured over two generations.217 Seven possible titles and honorifics are mentioned: archon, archisynagogos, gerusiarch, phrontistes, priest, and the role of ‘father’ and ‘mother’ of a synagogue. The
214 On this last transliteration see Noy 1995, 428.
215 These last three names are from a single sarcophagus, belonging to Silicius, and may suggest a family
originally from Asia Minor or Roman Syria. See Noy 1995, No. 554.
216 Rutgers 1995, 174-5.
217 Translated by Noy (1995, No. 441): “Here lies Julianus, priest, archon of the Calcaresians, son of Julianus,
epitaph on the sarcophagus of Domnus, a strigilar sarcophagus with a tabula ansata flanked by columns, is instructive in this regard. It reads:218
ΕΝ[ΘΑ]ΔΕ Κ ΕΙ[ΤΑΙ Δ]ΟΜΝΟ Ϲ Π[ΑΤ]ΗΡ ϹΥΝΑ ΓΩΓ[ΗϹ Β]ΕΡΝΑΚΛΩ Ν ΤΡΙϹ Α[ΡΧ]ΩΝ ΚΕ ΔΙϹ Φ ΡΟΝΤ[ΙϹΤΗ]Ϲ ΕΝ ΕΙΡΗ Ν[Η Η Κ]ΟΙΜ Μ[ΗϹ]ΙϹ Αϒ [ΤΟ]Υ Here lies Domnus,
‘father’ of the synagogue of the Vernaculii, thrice ‘archon,’ and twice
phrontistes. In peace
may he sleep.
These and other titles may have referred to real positions in the Jewish community, or have been used to honor its members.219 Most likely they were used in both ways, but
in either case, they reflect the prominent social standing of the deceased and their families within the Jewish community of Rome. In the case of Domnus, it seems that the roles of archon and phrontistes may have been an elected or appointed position with term limits. By contrast, none of the inscriptions on sarcophagi belonging to Jewish patrons mention a civic role or honorific relating to participation in the broader community in Rome, and only one mentions an occupation (painter). This is in keeping with the practices observed in other inscriptions from the catacombs,220 and with the (Jewish)
communal focus of the sarcophagus inscriptions on which six synagogues are mentioned by name (the synagogues of the Siburesians, Calcaresians Vernaculi,
218 Reconstruction following Noy (1995, No. 540).
219 Cappelletti 2006, 3-32; Levine 2000, 412-53; Rajak 1992; 1999; Rajak and Noy 1993; Trebilco 1991, 104-26.
Augustesians, Calcaresians, Campus and Volumnius). Quite in contrast to the
inscriptions on sarcophagi at Beth She’arim, no mention of the title or honorific ‘rabbi’ is made.
Only one epitaph identifies more than one deceased individual. The epitaph of this strigilated sarcophagus read “Here lies Silicius, gerousiarch, and Sophronia his wife, with Maria and Nikandros their children.”221 Sarcophagi containing more than one interment
are rare in Rome, and there is scant evidence for the practice of secondary burial in the Jewish catacombs of the city as opposed to at Beth She'arim. This, and the Greek names of the deceased, suggest that the family may have immigrated to Rome and brought with them foreign burial customs, and possibly, secondary burial. Still, Silicius and his family evidently integrated well into the Romano-Jewish community, as he gained the position or honor of gerousiarch.
Age is mentioned in three epitaphs, in each case presumably because the age at death was unusual. Caelius Quintus, a “Hebrew boy” (ΠΑΙC Ε[Β]ΡΑΙΟC), died at age thirteen;222 Jonathan, an archon, at nineteen.223 The epitaph of Caelius Quintus in
particular is suggestive of a certain category of patronage. His unnamed father is mentioned, along with the fact that he served in the role of archon twice. This detail and the circumstances of the death suggest that Caelius Quintus’s father was the patron of
221 Following Noy 1995, No. 554.
222 Noy 1995, No. 559.
the sarcophagus, and, furthermore, that his patronage was a means of displaying his own prestige.224 The Latin inscription on the sarcophagus of Beturia Paula identifies the
deceased as a ‘proselyte’ and ‘mother’ of two synagogues who lived a remarkable 86 years and 6 months.225 It is not clear what the role of ‘mother’ of a synagogue (or the
analogous role of ‘father’) entailed, whether the position was as synagogue functionary or an honorific.226 Her sarcophagus, the only one belonging to a proselyte, is also one of
the few to bear Jewish ritual symbols which are incised on the epitaph (see below, Chapter 4). With the exception of these three examples, we can assume that the age of death was more or less average for those buried in sarcophagi in the Jewish community of Rome.227
What emerges from the inscriptional evidence then is that many Jewish sarcophagus patrons were prominent members of the Jewish community in Rome, with extensive ties to synagogues in the city and holding a variety of positions and honors related to the community. While the epitaphs suggest that the primary (funerary) identity of the deceased was derived from their position in the Jewish community,228 it is less clear that
this can be taken to mean that “the primary interest of Roman Jews was not to integrate
224 On prestige accomplished through patronage, see Birk 2012.
225 Apparently 16 of those years she went by her Hebrew name, ‘Sarah.’
226 On such roles and the place of women in Jewish synagogues in antiquity, see especially Brooten 1982.
227 In fact, there is some evidence to suggest that the Jews of Rome enjoyed higher survival rates than the
non-Jewish population, especially among females. See Rutgers 1995, 119, Table 5.
with Roman society, but to preserve their own cultural and religious identity,” as Cappelletti argues.229 The evidence is much more nuanced than that.
Ultimately all the evidence—the use of common epitaphic formulae and
conventions, the highlighting of social roles and accomplishments and, not to mention, the choice of a sarcophagus burial in the first place—suggests that the patrons were familiar with the conventions of Roman funerary culture, especially sarcophagi and epitaphs. Moreover, it has been suggested that the roles themselves and the communal structure of many diaspora communities and synagogues were modeled on the civic structure: “miniature versions of the city of which they are a part.”230 When it comes to
the kinds of sculptural programs selected by these patrons, the leaders of the community opted for what might be considered more conservative options among the possibilities offered by producers of Metropolitan sarcophagi. We will return to this point in Chapter 6. For now, it is enough to observe that, based on the limited evidence at hand, the social class and patronage practices of Jewish sarcophagus patrons did not substantially differ from those of other, non-Jewish patrons in the city of Rome.
229 Cappelletti 2006, 191.