SOCIAL STATUS IN ROMAN WORLD
Wealth and Poverty
The Roman Empire was characterized by grotesque economic inequality. There was nothing comparable to what we would call a “middle class”; for the most part, people were either extremely rich (about 3 percent of the population) or extremely poor (about 90 percent).
Most of those who belonged to the
latter group lived at or near a subsistence level, making just enough to
survive, with little hope of saving anything that would allow them to improve
their position or provide them with a hedge against calamity. The more
fortunate of these impoverished persons might at least learn a trade (as was
apparently the case with Jesus, his disciples, and the apostle Paul), but for
many people in rural areas “subsistence” meant living off the land, and so life was subject to the
vicissitudes of agriculture. Thus for the least fortunate—beggars, widows, orphans, prisoners, unskilled day laborers—survival itself may frequently have been in question. Modern
estimates suggest that about 28 percent of the population of the Roman Empire
during New Testament times lived below subsistence level, meaning that such
people did not know from day to day whether they would be able to obtain those things
necessary to sustain life.
Given the extremes of such a
situation, attitudes toward wealth and poverty were a significant part of the social
world. Some religious people at the time of Jesus believed that wealth could be
viewed as a sign of God’s blessing and that poverty could be
understood as a consequence of divine displeasure. It is difficult, however, to
know how widespread this notion was. What seems more certain is that virtually
everyone in this time period held to what is now called a theory of “limited good.” People believed that money and the
things that money can buy were in short (or at least finite) supply; the common
perception—in stark contrast to modern capitalism—was that acquisition of wealth or resources by some
necessitated depletion of wealth or resources for others. Simply put, virtually
everyone in New Testament times believed that there was only so much “stuff” to go around and that some people
had less than they needed because other people had more than they needed.
Roman society (in Palestine and
everywhere else) functioned in accord with strong expectations regarding
benefaction and obligation. At the simplest level, the exchange of favors was
virtually definitive of friendship. “Friends” were people who did things for one another, and even though
no one was supposed to keep score, the assistance and support would have to be
mutual over the long term or else the friendship would break down. At another
level, however, almost all people were involved in patron-client relationships
with people who were not their social equals. Very few people had money or power,
but those who did were expected to serve as benefactors for those who did not.
The wealthy might, for instance,
allow peasants to live on their land or provide them with food or grain or
employment. In sociological terms, such benefactors are called “patrons,” and the recipients of the benefits
are called “clients.” In such a relationship the exchange of favors could not be
mutual, but the clients were expected to offer their patron what they could:
gratitude and, above all, loyalty. They were expected to praise their patron,
to speak well of their patron, and to enhance his or her social reputation.
They were expected to trust their patron to continue providing for them. And,
as necessary, they were expected to perform various services that the patron Roman
society (in Palestine and everywhere else) functioned in accord with strong
expectations regarding benefaction and obligation.
At the simplest level, the exchange
of favors was virtually definitive of friendship. “Friends” were people who did things for one
another, and even though no one was supposed to keep score, the assistance and
support would have to be mutual over the long term or else the friendship would
break down. At another level, however, almost all people were involved in
patron-client relationships with people who were not their social equals. Very
few people had money or power, but those who did were expected to serve as
benefactors for those who did not. The wealthy might, for instance, allow
peasants to live on their land or provide them with food or grain or
employment. In sociological terms, such benefactors are called “patrons,” and the recipients of the benefits
are called “clients.”
In such a relationship the exchange
of favors could not be mutual, but the clients were expected to offer their patron
what they could: gratitude and, above all, loyalty. They were expected to praise
their patron, to speak well of their patron, and to enhance his or her social
reputation. They were expected to trust their patron to continue providing for
them. And, as necessary, they were expected to perform various services that
the patron might request of them. Such relationships were not constituted
legally, but at a basic level they represented how most people thought the
world was supposed to work and, indeed, how it usually did work.
Patron-client relationships would
form a significant backdrop for the development of Christian theology. The term
most often used for the patron’s bestowal of benefits is charis (typically
translated as “grace” in the New Testament), and the term that is often used for
the client’s expected attitude of loyalty toward
his or her patron is pistis (often translated as “faith” in the New Testament). Thus the
phenomenon of patron-client relationships seems to have served as a rough
analogy for divine-human encounters in which the constitutive
elements are grace and faith: God
gives to people freely and generously (grace), and this arouses within people an
appropriate response of trust, devotion, and willingness to serve (faith).
The pivotal social value in the New Testament world (among Greeks, Romans, Jews, and everyone else) was honor—that is, the status that one has in the eyes of those whose opinions one considers to be significant. To some extent, honor was ascribed through factors beyond an individual’s control: age, gender, nationality, ethnicity, height, physical health, economic class, and the like could set certain parameters that defined the limits of how much honor one could hope to attain.
Given such limitations, however, many
things might increase one’s honor (religious piety, courage,
virtuous behavior, a congenial or charitable disposition, etc.), and many
things might precipitate a loss of honor or even bring its opposite, shame. Such
a value system may not seem strange to us because even in modern Western
society everyone likes to receive honor and nobody wants to be put to shame.
The difference, however, could be one of magnitude: the New Testament world was
one in which honor was to be prized above all else and shame was to be avoided
at all costs. For example, people wanted to be wealthy not primarily because
wealth would enable them to live in luxury but because almost everyone believed
that it was honorable to have money to spare. Likewise, it was shameful to be
needy; Ben Sira, a prominent Jewish teacher of the Second Temple period taught
that “it is better to die than to beg” (Sir. 40:28). He said this not because begging was
immoral or sinful but because it is the most shameful situation a person is
exposing to the public.
By the start of the second century,
almost all the books of the New Testament had been written, including the
Gospels and all of Paul’s letters. By this time the Romans
had come to regard Christianity and Judaism as separate religions, and the
former was now regarded as an unauthorized innovation and was officially outlawed.
We get a good picture of what this meant in practice from a set of letters sent
by the Roman governor Pliny to the emperor Trajan in about the year 112. The
overall policy was something of a “Don’t ask, don’t tell” approach: Christians were not sought out, but when they came
to a ruler’s attention, they were to be tortured
and killed unless they renounced their faith and made sacrifices to Roman gods.
In the New Testament world shame was
not just a temporary emotional response (like embarrassment) but rather an
overriding psychological status according to which one lived in disgrace and
was considered to be unworthy of divine or human attention (or even of life
itself). Cowards, failures, and fools lived in shame, as did tax collectors,
lepers, beggars, and prostitutes.
