Coins, Stones & Ossuaries

How Five Archaeological Finds Illuminate the Gospels

What can archaeology teach us about the Bible?

This is a question with the potential to make scholars wince. It conjures images of eccentric gentlemen in Indiana Jones-style dress on a quest to find, if not the Holy Grail, then at least the Kingdoms, chronologies and artefacts of the biblical histories.

When the field of biblical archaeology was founded in the 19th century, it was not quite this caricature, but it was also not far off. Looking back, the (unspoken) purpose of the field was to fill out and harmonise the textual traditions of the Bible. It was an archaeology in service of biblical literalism. An archaeology with apologetic aims.

Today, things look reasonably different. Since a paradigm shift in the 1970s, the field has not so much sought to ‘prove’ the Bible, as it has to understand the life and world of those who lived in and around ancient Palestine.¹ Bearing a closer relationship with the social sciences, archaeologists re-construct life beyond and behind the texts, whether or not these confirm or contradict the record of the biblical stories.

With the spirit of this research in mind, I want to take a look at five archaeological finds which relate to the gospels. From the coinage of Herod Antipas to the latest research on first-century Nazareth, I examine how these incredible discoveries provide windows into the lives of Jesus, his family and earliest followers.

1. The Coins of Antipas

In a passage shared by Matthew and Luke, we find Jesus asking this question about John the Baptist:

What did you go out into the wilderness to look at? A reed shaken by the wind?²⁵ What, then, did you go out to see? Someone dressed in soft robes? Look, those who put on fine clothing and live in luxury are in royal palaces. ²⁶ What, then, did you go out to see? A prophet? Yes, I tell you, and more than a prophet.

Jesus here contrasts the greatness of John – known for his shaggy look – with those who live in luxury. Yet Jesus does not direct his criticism to any particular person.

Or does he?

When we take a closer look, this passage may contain a thinly veiled critique. In referring to a ‘reed shaken by the wind’, some scholars have imagined that Jesus had a particular person in mind: John’s arch-nemesis, the tetrarch Herod Antipas.

To see this connection, we need to appreciate the ancient coinage that Jesus and his contemporaries would have turned over. For the symbol Antipas imprinted on the coins he minted were palm reeds:²

If this association between Herod and reeds is true, then Jesus may be contrasting Herod with John. Herod is a ‘reed shaken by the wind’, like those who stand in God’s judgement in 3 Maccabees 3:22. By contrast, John was more than a prophet.

To be sure, the ‘reed’ image need not evoke a specific individual. It is used several times in the Bible to describe those without a strong moral backbone.³ Yet in the setting of this verse, a reed would be exactly the right metaphor to describe Antipas: he had broken Jewish law by divorcing his first wife and marrying his brother’s wife, and John the Baptist had been put to death for calling him out on this bad behaviour.

This veiled allusion may also betray a protective strategy on Jesus’ part. We know that Jesus took care to avoid the wrath of Herod – and here Jesus knew better than to call out Antipas by name. His strategy was to use the imagery of his coinage instead.

This is a reminder of how subtle communication can be. Jesus’ teaching did not take place in a vacuum. If we don’t explore his world, there will be clues we easily miss.

2. The Ossuary of Alexander

We move now from coins to bones and the boxes or ‘ossuaries’ that held them. From the first-century BCE, wealthy Jews would exhume the skeleton of a deceased family member into an ossuary after some time after their temporary burial.

Why exactly Jews began this practice is debated. Many scholars repeat the classic argument that it reflects Jewish beliefs about resurrection. Similar to a ‘Christian’ burial, the interment of the skeleton would allow God to re-flesh the skeleton’s bones.

Yet not only is it unclear how many first-century Jews believed in a bodily resurrection, we have the ossuaries of Sadducees who certainly did not believe in it. It may be, then, that practical rather than ideological factors such as the wealth of Jerusalem and the rise of stone-masonry lie behind the practice.⁴

For our purposes, what is remarkable is that numerous ossuaries were named. This means that we appear to have some of the ossuaries of people who appear in the gospels, including the High Priest Caiaphas, who presided over Jesus’ death.

The ossuary of Caiaphas, the High Priest who appears in the Gospels.

Yet in my view, this is not the most fascinating ossuary to survive. Another bone-box bears the name ‘Alexander (son of) Simon’ in Greek, while on its lid is etched the Hebrew ‘Alexander the Cyrenian [קרנית].’⁵ Who was this Alexander, Son of Simon?

The Gospel of Mark may hold an answer. In Jesus’ journey to Golgotha, a certain ‘Simon of Cyrene’ is enlisted to help him carry the cross. While it is not usual to disambiguate a name by a person’s father, we are told that this Simon himself was ‘the father of Alexander and Rufus.’ Why mention Simon’s own children? Apparently, this pair – Alexander and Rufus – were known to Mark’s audience.

Could this ossuary contain the bones of the Alexander referenced in passing by Mark?

Before we get ahead of ourselves, Alexander and Simon were common names in antiquity. Yet this is the only ossuary with the name 'Alexander (son of) Simon’, and the reference to Cyrene adds a further level of specificity. It is therefore not surprising that several scholars, including some highly critical of the reliability of the Gospel tradition, have suggested that we do have the bone-box of Mark’s Alexander.

It is fascinating to speculate on who this Alexander and his father, Simon, might have been. Did they convert to the Jesus movement, or were they already part of it? Did Alexander’s own testimony lie behind this part of Mark’s passion narrative?

While it is difficult to come to firm answers, it seems he was known – in person or reputation – to Mark’s audience, but perhaps not to the later evangelists, who cut him out. The bone-box of Alexander thus gives us a glimpse into the life of Jesus’ early followers: lives steeped in Jewish custom and ritual, whatever their newfound beliefs.

3. Yehohanan’s Heel

What was crucifixion like for Jews living in Palestine? Excerpts from literary texts tell us part of the story. But for a long time, archaeology had virtually no material to work with to inform our understanding of the Roman practice in Judea.

This all changed in 1968, when the skeletal remains of a man named Yehohanan (Jonathan) were found in an ossuary.⁶ Remarkably, Jonathan’s heel-bone had been pierced with an iron spike, 11.5 cm long. It looks like Jonathan was a victim of crucifixion, sometime in the late 20s CE, under the reign of Pontius Pilate.

There are two reasons why this finding may be significant. The first is that it is hard evidence that Jewish victims of crucifixion did at least sometimes receive a burial. This runs against the view that crucifixion victims were refused burial and Jesus’ corpse would have been left to rot on the cross.

To be sure: we might think that Jonathan’s remains were the exception. Yet the very fact that we know that this particular Jonathan was crucified was itself only by chance because the nail bent back on itself. If others were crucified and such marks of crucifixion were removed, we would never know that they were crucified.