The Kontakia, Theology and Poetry in Early Byzantium

i
Theology and Poetry in Early Byzantium
Theology and Poetry in Early Byzantium examines the kontakia and

thought-world of Romanos the Melodist, the sixth-century hymnog-
rapher whose vibrant and engaging compositions had a far-reaching
influence in the history of Byzantine liturgy. His compositions bring
biblical narratives to life through dialogue, encourage a level of
participation unparalleled in homiletics and push the boundaries
of liturgical expression of theology. This book provides an original
analysis of Romanos’ poetry, drawing attention to the coherence of
his theology and the performative nature of his rhetoric. The main
theological themes which emerge encourage the congregation to
enact the life of Christ and anticipate the new creation: restoration
of humanity to God, recreation in the incarnation and life of Christ,
and liturgical participation and transformation in that life. By ana-
lysing the rhetorical performance of theology in the kontakia, the
book provides new insights into religious practice in late antiquity.
Sarah Gador-W hyte is a Research Fellow of the Australian

Catholic University in the Institute for Religion and Critical Inquiry,
based at St Patrick’s Campus in Melbourne. She is a scholar of late
antiquity and Byzantium and has published widely on Romanos, the
cult of the Virgin, late antique historiography and religious conflict in
late antiquity.
ii
iii
Theology and Poetry in Early

Byzantium
The Kontakia of Romanos the Melodist
Sarah G a d or-W hy t e
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For Michael
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Contents
Preface page [ix]
Introduction [1]
1 On the Passion of Christ [19]
2 The Second Adam: A Typology of Salvation [54]
3 The Second Creation: A New Reality for Christians [102]
4 The Second Coming: A Theology of Time and Liturgy [147]
On the Resurrection IV: Conclusions and Beyond [195]
Select Bibliography [206]

Index of Biblical Passages [230]
General Index [232]
vii
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ix
Preface
This book examines Romanos the Melodist’s vibrant theological poetry,

which until recently has received too little attention in its own right.
Thankfully there now appears to be a resurgence of interest in Romanos
and so, as one of my colleagues suggested, perhaps we are now in the midst
of a ‘Romanos renaissance’. In my own contribution, I examine theologi-
cal ideas and their rhetorical vehicles, focusing on Romanos’ theology of
salvation and the performative techniques he employs. The key concepts
which help to construct Romanos’ coherent vision are God’s correction and
perfection of humanity, the inauguration of a new creation, participation in
that creation and anticipation of its final consummation. Romanos’ k ontakia
were liturgical texts and, through clever use of rhetorical devices including
metaphor, paradox, typology and characterization, Romanos educates his
audience and engages them in a performance of their own salvation.
Romanos’ thought-world is important for understanding his ideas and to
this end I endeavour to consider the inspiration of earlier Greek and Syriac
preachers and poets on Romanos’ kontakia, the deep influence of scripture
and its typological significance, the centrality of liturgical performance and
sensory perception, the impact of rhetoric and its embodiment, and the
effects of different cultural interactions. The kontakia enact a lived theology
in a time of complex doctrinal controversy and intercultural contact and
give us insights into sixth-century lay practice and the communication of
theology to a wide audience.
I started work on Romanos as a PhD candidate at the University of
Melbourne, under the supervision of Roger Scott, to whom I owe a great
deal. Roger’s careful reading has been extremely helpful, as have been his
encouragement to publish, his generous introductions to other scholars
and his continued interest in the project. My thanks go also to Ruth Webb
and Mary Cunningham, who generously gave up their time to guide me
through the PhD while I was in London and afterwards.
The book has undergone many changes since the dissertation, and
I would like to thank all those who helped me to reshape the manuscript.
I thank my PhD examiners, Pauline Allen and Niki Tsironis, for their sug-
gestions for transforming the dissertation into a book, and the readers of ix
x
newgenprepdf
x Preface
Cambridge University Press for their critical analysis of my manuscript at

varying stages of development. I am particularly grateful to Derek Krueger
for his detailed and insightful criticism of my work, which challenged my
thinking and spurred me to make radical revisions, resulting in a book of,
I hope, much more depth and wider interest. I also thank Michael Sharp at
Cambridge University Press for seeing the potential in the manuscript and
for patiently allowing me to recraft it.
I am very grateful to Mich, Peter, Gaye, Neil, Pip, Jean, Tom, Andrew,
Matthew, Miranda, Benita and Callum who at different times entertained
our son Samuel while I worked, encouraged me to finish it and generally
supported me through the process. I thank Matthew and Miranda par-
ticularly for their determination to look after Samuel and give me time to
work while we were in Cambridge, enabling me to make the most signif-
icant revisions.
My especial thanks go to Michael, to whom I dedicate this book, for puz-
zling with me for so long about Romanos and for his constant love and
support; and to Samuel, for whom Romanos is a bit of a mystery, but who
has an insatiable love of books and may one day read this one.
1
Introduction
Hymn, hymn this man, Adam. Worship the one coming to you.
For he appeared for you, as you went forward to observe him,
to grope for and receive him.
This man whom you feared, when you were deceived,
because of you became like you.
He came down to the earth so that he might take you up.
He became mortal so that you might become god
and might put on the foremost dignity.
Wishing to open Eden again he lived in Nazareth.
So because of these things sing, man, and chanting rejoice
in the one who appears and illuminates everything.
Ὕμνησον, ὕμνησον τοῦτον, Ἀδάμ·
προσκύνησον τὸν ἐλθόντα πρὸς σέ·
ἐφάνη γάρ σοι, ὡς ἐχώρεις, θεωρῆσαι αὐτόν,
ψηλαφῆσαι καὶ δέξασθαι·
οὗτος ὃν ἐφοβήθης, ὅτε ἐξηπατήθης, διὰ σὲ ὡμοιώθη σοι·
κατέβη ἐπὶ γῆς, ἵνα λάβῃ σε ἄνω·
ἐγένετο θνητός, ἵνα σὺ θεὸς γένῃ
καὶ ἐνδύσῃ τὴν πρώτην εὐπρέπειαν·
θέλων ἀνοῖξαι πάλιν τὴν Ἐδὲμ ᾤκησε τὴν Ναζαρέτ·
διὰ ταῦτα οὖν ᾆσον, ἄνθρωπε, καὶ ψάλλων τέρπε
τὸν φανέντα καὶ φωτίσαντα πάντα.1
On the Epiphany (VI.3)
Singing and worship were intricately intertwined for Romanos the Melodist.
His sung verse sermons (kontakia) express a vibrant and optimistic theol-
ogy about the present reign of Christ and the approaching end time and
encourage listeners to partake in that optimism as they worship. Romanos
addresses Adam, both as a figure for all humanity and as a type for Christ,
1 The text of the kontakia throughout is taken from, and laid out according to, the Oxford
edition: Maas and Trypanis (1963). I have also consulted the Sources chrétiennes
edition: Grosdidier de Matons (1964–81). All translations are mine unless otherwise stated,
but my translations have been informed by the work of Bandy (1975), (1976), Carpenter
(1970), Grosdidier de Matons (1964–81), Lash (1995), Schork (1995). I have also consulted
Koder (2005), Maisano (2002). 1
2
2 Introduction
the second Adam. Rhetorical repetition (‘Hymn, hymn’, line 1) creates a
sense of urgency, reflecting Adam’s indebtedness to God, who willingly
took on human form for his salvation (3). This is the great exchange (5): the
second Adam corrects the sins of the first and restores him to perfection.
So begins a new creation, a reopening of paradise (7), and one which God
freely wills out of love for his first creation. God’s actions not only call for
worship, in song, but also for expectation of his second advent (‘the one
coming to you’, 1).
This passage, from Romanos’ kontakion On the Epiphany, gives a fore-
taste of the theological ideas which will be the focus of this book: Christ
as the second Adam, who corrects the sins of the first and restores him
to perfection; the new creation Christ inaugurates at the incarnation;
and how Christians are called to live in that new creation and in prepa-
ration for its final consummation in the eschaton. These themes already
had a long history in Christian literature and ideas. Reading Romanos’
hymns provides evidence for the spread of earlier Christian doctrines
presented to a wide audience, largely of lay people, in vibrant poetry and
arresting images. Romanos’ hymns do not attempt startling theological
novelty but he does argue for the truth of a coherent theological vision
and seeks to demonstrate its vital importance for Christians living in the
sixth century. As preacher, Romanos aims to draw his listeners into deep
communion with Christ so that they may anticipate the perfections of
heaven in their daily lives.
Romanos’ poetics – his clever use of rhetorical techniques and liter-
ary devices, his careful choice of vocabulary and the abundant excess of
imagery – makes his preaching vivid and emotionally engaging. We have
seen Romanos’ use of repetition to create a sense of urgency, and his direct
address to Adam which transforms Adam, whose plight reflects that of
all humanity, into a contemporary figure. Assonance strengthens the link
between singing and worship, and the diversity of singing words (lines 1
and 8: ‘hymn’, ‘sing’, ‘chant’) emphasizes the importance of song with deft
rhetorical variation. Romanos personalizes God’s actions for the life of each
member of the congregation by repeating the singular pronoun ‘you’ (‘This
man whom you feared, when you were deceived, because of you became
like you’). In this way, he encourages his audience to identify with Adam.
Repeated rhetorical antitheses emphasize the salvific exchange between
God and humanity (‘He came down to the earth so that he might take you
up: He became mortal so that you might become god’). Moreover, allitera-
tion of compounds denoting light and revelation in the final line strength-
ens the link between Christ’s appearance and his dramatic reversal of
3
Introduction 3
human darkness. Romanos’ use of language is playful and creative, vibrant

and captivating.
We will see throughout the corpus Romanos’ skilful elaboration of
scripture, his vivid language and abundant use of imagery. Take, for
example, the kontakion On the Entry into Jerusalem (XVI.12):
For was I not dissatisfied with angels? I loved you, the beggar,
I hid my glory
and I, the rich one, have willingly became poor. For I long for you very much.
I hungered, I thirsted and I suffered toils because of you.
Among mountains, cliffs and woodland vales I went about, seeking you,
the wandering one.
I was called lamb, so that, having somehow enchanted you with my voice,
I might lead you.
[I was called] shepherd, and for you I wish to lay down my life,
so that I might pull you up out of the grasp of the wolf.
I suffer everything, wishing that you might cry,
‘You are blessed who comes to call up Adam.’
Μὴ γὰρ ἀγγέλους ἔστερξα; σὲ τὸν πτωχὸν ἐφίλησα,
τὴν δόξαν μου ἔκρυψα
καὶ πένης ὁ πλούσιος ἑκὼν γέγονα· πολὺ γὰρ σὲ ποθῶ·
ἐπείνασα, ἐδίψησα διὰ σὲ καὶ ἐμόχθησα·
ἐν ὄρεσι, κρημνοῖς καὶ νάπαις διῆλθον σὲ τὸν πλανώμενον ζητῶν·
ἀμνὸς ὠνομάσθην, ἵν’ ὅπως τῇ φωνῇ μου σὲ θέλξας ἄξω·
ποιμήν, καὶ διὰ σὲ ψυχὴν θέλω θεῖναι,
ἱνά σε τῆς χειρὸς ἐκσπάσω τοῦ λύκου·
πάντα πάσχω θέλων σε βοᾶν·
‘εὐλογημένος εἶ ὁ ἐρχόμενος τὸν Ἀδὰμ ἀνακαλέσασθαι.’
Romanos contrasts Adam and Christ through images of wealth (made

more prominent by ‘p’ alliteration in words for poverty and riches, line
2) and of shepherding. Here, as elsewhere, biblical images are juxtaposed
with Romanos’ own creations as he expands and reframes biblical stories
in their re-performance. The tireless shepherd of the Gospels who seeks
out his lost sheep (Matt. 18:12; John 10:11–17) has a more specific and var-
ied journey than in those biblical accounts, creating a visual picture in the
minds of listeners.2 By placing the (biblical) images of Christ as lamb and
as shepherd in close proximity, Romanos emphasizes the varied roles God
plays in human salvation.
2 This was the purpose of the rhetorical device ekphrasis, which we will investigate in more detail
shortly. See Webb (2007), 16.
4
4 Introduction
Human images for Christ abound. The rich and poor images suggest a
descent in social status: from lord to beggar. Christ has human-like desire
and experiences a tricolon of human physicality: hunger, thirst, hardship. The
physicality of Christ is both central to human experience of him and the para-
dox of Christianity: through Christ’s humanity Christians come to know (and
ultimately partake in) divinity.
Romanos often uses overflowing imagery to describe the incarnation and
virgin birth, as a symbol of the incomprehensible miracle of God becom-
ing human and perhaps also an expression of Romanos’ own abundant joy
which he wants the congregation to share. So, in On the Annunciation II
Mary is the blossom, the rod and the ark all in the one line (XXXVII.6.3),
and throughout that kontakion Romanos uses multiple images for Mary
and the marvel of her virginal conception. These images are usually biblical
and the convergence of such different symbols also signifies the fulfilment
of history in the incarnation.
In his creative re-presentation of biblical narratives, Romanos is a master
of dialogue and characterization. He portrays emotional states with sensi-
tivity as well as vividness. The pathos which permeates his kontakia enables
his audience to feel the characters’ emotions, to identify and sympathize
with them.3 This both makes the kontakia engaging and is one rhetorical
strategy by which Romanos’ liturgically performed text aims to shape its
listeners’ lives. In On Mary at the Cross, for example, Romanos character-
izes Mary as mother by giving her the reproaches any mother would make
to her son’s absent friends (XIX.3). Listeners are encouraged to see Mary
as a suffering and uncomprehending ordinary mother, human and possi-
ble to emulate, who is nevertheless holy and faithful.4 Christians are called
into imitation of Christ and Christ-like models as they live out the new
creation in preparation for its consummation and Christ’s second coming.
Dialogue and characterization enable Romanos to draw his listeners into
these desired patterns of behaviour.
Just as characterization enables identification with biblical characters
(and therefore emulation of them), imagery in the kontakia often gives the
audience a personal link to the narrative by drawing on the memory (or
imagination) of physical sensations. Taste and scent images may conjure up
the sensations associated with the eucharist, and water imagery sometimes
Kustas (1973), 55.
3
For the most recent contribution to the study of Mary in Romanos, see Arentzen (2014). For
4
my own take on Romanos’ characterization of Mary, see Gador-Whyte (2013a), 77–92. On

Mary’s grief in Romanos and the Greek fathers, see Alexiou (1974), Dobrov (1994), 385–405.
5
Introduction 5
makes the congregation recall their baptism.5 Imagery from everyday life
brings biblical narratives close to the everyday lives of Romanos’ congre-
gation. Romanos draws on legal terminology, using images of legal justice
and judgement to investigate the realm of divine judgement.6 Imperial
imagery depicts Christ as King and his forgiveness of human sin is depicted
as imperial pardon;7 medical imagery makes Christ into a healer and asso-
ciates physical health with spiritual well-being.8 Sin is sometimes figured
by financial imagery: Romanos employs the language of debts to explore
concepts of sin and human failings. Soldiers and athletes provide models
of strength and endurance for those fighting against sin and temptation.9
Thus, Romanos’ rhetorical and literary techniques are constituent
elements of the ideas which they communicate. In this Romanos is firmly
situated within earlier traditions of Christian literature. The embodiment
of language in the divine Logos brought with it a new conceptualization of
rhetoric: a means of understanding humanity and the divine economy.10
The different rhetorical devices reveal elements of this divine economy and
contribute to human understanding of it in varied ways: vivid description
(ekphrasis) unveils personal experience of the divine; typology interprets
history christologically; characterization (ethopoeia) enables human par-
ticipation in the divine, and so on.11 As we will see in subsequent chapters,
Romanos’ employment of rhetorical techniques is part of his attempt to
elucidate and present God’s message as he understands it.
Romanos’ kontakia have been called ‘poetry as proclamation’.12 While the
kontakion is not strictly a homily, and some take issue with calling it a hom-
ily in verse,13 it does perform some homiletic functions.14 It was performed
in a liturgical setting (on which, see further below) and Romanos uses his
compositions to expound the scriptures and educate his listeners about the
demands of the Christian life. As proclamation, then, the kontakion had a
5 On this use of the senses in Romanos, see Frank (2005), especially 166–8. On similar uses of
the senses in wider homiletics (and Romanos), see Frank (2001), (2013b).
6 See, for example, Romanos’ use of συγχώρησις in XVIII.6: Krueger (2004), 161.
7 For imperial imagery in Romanos, see Barkhuizen (1991b), 1–15.
8 See, for example, XXI.1–2. On medical imagery in the kontakia, see Krueger (2010), Schork
(1960).
9 Romanos describes Joseph as an athlete as he triumphs over passion and
temptation: XLIV.22.1–2. See Schork (1995), 23–5.
10 Kustas (1973), 56.
11 Kustas (1973), 54–8.
12 Louth uses this phrase to contrast the kontakion (‘poetry as proclamation’) and the canon
(‘poetry as meditation’): Louth (2005), 200.
13 Arentzen (2014), 48–9.
14 Cunningham (1990), 36–7.
6
6 Introduction
broader reach than other forms of theological composition, whether poetry

or learned treatises. As a form of homiletics, and performed in a popular
vigil setting, the kontakion reached a wide lay audience and was thus an
effective means of theological instruction across different social groups.
The kontakion was also more interactive than ordinary preaching, which
had no refrain in which the congregation could take part. Its participatory
nature, as well as other devices, such as dialogue and characterization, make
the kontakion potentially more involving and more effective in its commu-
nication than other forms of homiletics. By studying Romanos’ ideas, as
expressed in the kontakia, we can therefore infer more about lay piety and
theological understanding, giving us a broader appreciation of Christian
faith in this period.
Romanos takes his listeners on journeys through biblical stories, shap-
ing their understanding of the text in often subtle and emotive ways. He
forms their faith by making them participate in the biblical narratives: he
introduces them to characters and draws them into conversation to help
them identify with those characters; he creates visual images of events and
positions his listeners as eyewitnesses. Such emotional engagement with
characters and events draws listeners into deeper understanding and faith.
Romanos and his kontakia played an important role in theological education
and shaping popular theology and piety in sixth-century Constantinople.
This book is an attempt to explore the theology of the most celebrated
Byzantine hymnographer, whose ideas have nevertheless been little stud-
ied, and to demonstrate the interconnectedness of these theological ideas
and the rhetorical forms used to communicate them. To this latter end, in
Chapter 1 I analyse one kontakion, On the Passion of Christ, to illustrate
how the form of the hymn and its rhetorical techniques allow Romanos
to explore numerous ideas in a single kontakion. All of the theological
concepts which will be the focus of subsequent chapters are present (to a
greater or lesser extent) in this one kontakion.
Chapters 2 to 4 focus on Romanos’ theology. It is a theology of salvation,
of the recapitulation of human life by God in the person of Jesus Christ:
the correction of human sin and perfection of humanity, the inauguration
of a new reality in Christ and the anticipation of the second coming and
final consummation of that new creation. Humanity is a fallen race, suf-
fering since Adam, sinful in its separation from God. In order to restore
humans to relationship with God, God himself took on human form in
the person of Jesus Christ: he became the second Adam. In Chapter 2, I
explore Romanos’ conceptualization of the second Adam and how he cor-
rects the sins of the first Adam and restores humanity to perfection. This
7
Romanos 7
renewed perfection, the subject of Chapter 3, begins a new reality, a sec-

ond creation, in which the norms of the previous creation are dramatically
challenged and Old Testament prophecies are fulfilled. This second creation
calls for a change of life for Christians. Romanos works hard, as we will see
in Chapter 4, to encourage his congregation towards Christ-like living. He
sees the responsibility of Christians as one of participation in anticipation:
participation in the life of Christ now, in anticipation of the future advent
of Christ. Romanos’ kontakia are marked by optimism. They look forward
with great hope and joy towards the second coming of Christ. This book
thus moves through Romanos’ theology from correction of human sin to
apprehension of divine glory.
Like many other great preachers, Romanos made use of the tradition
to teach his congregation about theological concepts which he believed
were vitally important for their salvation. Therefore, each chapter seeks
to situate Romanos’ thought within wider themes in Christian thinking
through introductory sections which identify resonances with earlier
strands of the tradition. These sections enable an evaluation of Romanos’
distinctive contributions and aim to outline key aspects of his thought-
world, but do not seek to pin down direct influence. The chapters then go
on to analyse how Romanos employed earlier ideas in his own synthesis.
These investigations of the tradition with which Romanos could have
been familiar are by no means exhaustive but are aimed at illuminat-
ing the distinctive characteristics of Romanos’ own ideas and rhetorical
practices. By thus setting Romanos in his wider intellectual context, I
hope to show which ideas were strange for the time, which were common
and which ideas were controversial and stemmed from contemporary
debates. Similarly, I will seek to contextualize Romanos’ ideas within his
wider society as the book progresses, to help to identify his reasons for
emphasizing a particular idea.
Romanos
What little we know about Romanos, apart from his writings, comes from
the Synaxaria.15 According to these documents, the earliest of which dates
to the tenth century, Romanos was born in Emesa, modern Homs, in Syria.
He became a deacon in Berytus (modern Beirut), in the Church of the
Resurrection, and then moved to Constantinople some time during the
15 The relevant sections of the Synaxaria are reproduced in Grosdidier de Matons (1977), 162.
8
8 Introduction
reign of Anastasius.16 In Constantinople he was attached to the Church of

the Theotokos in the Kyros district. According to legend, the Virgin Mary
inspired him to compose his most famous hymn, On the Nativity I, after
which he composed about one thousand kontakia before he died.17 He is a
saint in the Orthodox Church and his feast day is celebrated on 1 October.
This is the hagiographical story we are given of Romanos’ life, from which
we can infer a few things. First, his birth in Emesa suggests that he was
bilingual and ‘bi-cultural’.18 He would have been able to speak and read both
Syriac and Greek and was familiar with the literature and culture of these
linguistic communities. There are clear congruencies between Romanos’
thought and compositions and those of fourth-to sixth-century Syriac the-
ologians, preachers and poets, and the overlap of ideas and images will be
significant for the investigation and reconstruction of Romanos’ ideas.
Second, if he became a deacon in Berytus he may have been educated
there, if not previously educated in Greek grammar and rhetoric in
Emesa.19 Berytus was a centre for education in late antiquity and, although
primarily associated with a legal education in the Latin language and in
Roman law, may have provided Romanos with the opportunity to study
rhetoric.20 Some have argued that Romanos was a converted Jew,21 and it
may be that he went to Berytus as a Jew (or even a pagan), intending to
study law, and converted to Christianity while a student there. We know
that groups like the philoponoi operated in Berytus, aiming in part to
expose and convert pagan and Jewish students.22 Zacharias Scholasticus,
for example, vividly describes student life in the period and records sev-
eral such attempts.23 In his Life of Severus, we learn that the future bishop
of Antioch was converted to Christianity while a law student in Berytus.24
16 The current consensus is that Anastasius I is meant. For the debate about which Anastasius,
see Petersen (1985b), 2–3. Aslanov suggests that Romanos chose Constantinople because of
the power and prestige it offered: Aslanov (2011), 614.
17 For various interpretations of the legend, see Arentzen (2014), 43–4, Carpenter (1932), 3–22,
Maisano (2002), 25.
18 Brock (1994), 154.
19 Eva Topping suggests that Romanos would have been trained in the classics in Emesa. See
Topping (1976), 239.
20 See, for example, Libanius’ letter to Domninus, epistle 163 in Bradbury’s numbering, in which
Libanius introduces a student of his who, having studied rhetoric, is now turning to the
law: Bradbury (2004), 201–2. See also Hall (2004), 192–3.
21 Grosdidier de Matons cites an anonymous kontakion which celebrates St Romanos as saying
that Romanos was the child of Jews: Grosdidier de Matons (1977), 169. Cf. also Yahalom
(1987), 122. And see further in Chapter 3 below.
22 On the philoponoi, see Haas (1997), 238–40, Watts (2006), 213–16.
23 Hall (2004), 163.
24 Hall (2004), 159.
9
The Kontakion 9
Yet Romanos’ putative conversion is mere conjecture. Most likely he was

born into a Christian family and went to Berytus to study law or sim-
ply rhetoric and while there became interested in a career in the church.
He may even have been connected with Christian schools in Berytus, or
have been drawn there by stories of ascetic monks. Whatever Romanos’
connection with Berytus may have been, it will be clear from analysis
of his kontakia that he was rhetorically trained and familiar with earlier
homiletics and poetry in Greek and Syriac.
Finally, the image of Mary as Romanos’ muse echoes the importance of
Mary in Romanos’ work and thought, the high esteem given to Romanos’
hymns after his death – to the extent that he was considered divinely
inspired – and the theological importance given to Mary, as an active inter-
cessor and means of divine revelation, both in the sixth century and subse-
quently.25 Although Mary is not the central focus of this book, we will see
that Romanos envisaged Mary’s role in salvation as a significant one, not
least as the new Eve, the near-perfect woman who redeems fallen woman-
kind. The prominence of Mary in the kontakia may also reflect Romanos’
position as deacon at the Church of the Theotokos.
The Kontakion
The word kontakion is of ninth-century origin and probably comes from

the rod or stick (kontax or kontos) around which the hymns were wound.26
Romanos did not use this word to describe his own compositions; a variety
of names for the kontakion appear in the acrostics, including ‘hymn’, ‘word’,
‘story’, ‘psalm’, ‘poem’, ‘song’, ‘entreaty’ and ‘prayer’.27 It seems that there was
not a definitive term for the kontakia at the time. Romanos’ compositions
differ from other (both earlier and later) kontakia, tending more towards
homiletics than hymns of praise,28 justifying the description of the kon-
takia as ‘verse sermons’ or ‘sung sermons’.29 Classifying the genre of this
25 On Mary in Romanos, see Arentzen (2013), 125–32, (2014).

26 See Grosdidier de Matons (1977), 37–8; Rosenqvist (2007), 24–5.
27 ΥΜΝΟΣ, ΕΠΟΣ, ΑΙΝΟΣ, ΨΑΛΜΟΣ, ΠΟΙΗΜΑ, ΩΔΗ, ΔΕΗΣΙΣ, ΠΡΟΣΕΥΧΗ. ‘Hymn’ occurs four
times (I, XXXVII, XLI, LI), ‘word’ six (IV, VII, XXIII, XXXIV, XXXIX, XLIV), ‘story’ nine
(IX, XVIII, XXI, XXIV, XXV, XXVIII, XL, LIII, LIX), ‘psalm’ eight (XI, XII, XX, XXIX, XXXI,
XLVI, LIV, LV), ‘poem’ four (XIII, XVII, XLVII, L), ‘song’ twice (XXVI, XXXV), ‘entreaty’ once
(XLIX), and ‘prayer’ once (LVI).
28 Grosdidier de Matons (1977), 3.
29 See, for example, Grosdidier de Matons (1977), 3. There is no evidence, however, that it
replaced a spoken prose sermon. See Cunningham (1996), 176. Against the use of ‘sermon’ to
describe the kontakion, see Arentzen (2014), 48.
10
10 Introduction
hymn has therefore posed some problems for scholars. Romanos seems
to have been conversant in both Greek and Syriac culture and thus his
compositions bridge various genres to form a new, combined genre which,
for the sake of simplicity and in keeping with tradition, we will continue
to call ‘the kontakion’.
Romanos’ kontakia were divided into strophes (or ‘stanzas’, oikoi) and
open with one or more proems (prooimia or koukoulia).30 The kontakia
have accentual metres; each strophe has the same metrical form within
one hymn, but the metres vary between kontakia.31 The proems differ in
metre and may be later additions, or it may be that Romanos himself wrote
new proems whenever the kontakia were used a second time or in a differ-
ent context. The first letters of all the strophes make up an acrostic, which
usually includes Romanos’ name. It often takes the form ‘Of the Humble
Romanos’ or ‘The Poem of the Humble Romanos’.32 Once, Romanos uses an
alphabetic acrostic, but it still includes his name.33 The acrostic would have
been hidden to audiences who heard the kontakia being sung, but Romanos’
mark is clear when one looks at the written text: Romanos has inscribed his
ownership of the kontakia into them. The acrostic may have functioned
as a mnemonic device, enabling easier memorization of the kontakion for
himself and other cantors.34 But such devices were also employed in late
antique spiritual exercises, and, as such, it may have been part of an ascetic
discipline for Romanos, in which he focused on his own humility as he
wrote and sung his compositions.35
The kontakia usually have biblical themes, and are often dominated
by dialogue between biblical characters. The narrative generally expands
on the biblical one by including more dialogue and sections of exegesis,
30 The number of strophes varies between eleven and forty, but most of the kontakia have about
twenty strophes. For example, On Joseph I has forty strophes, whereas On the Resurrection
II has eleven. The frequency of the acrostic ‘of the humble Romanos’ (ΤΟΥ ΤΑΠΕΙΝΟΥ
ΡΩΜΑΝΟΥ) means many of the kontakia have eighteen strophes.
31 On the metrical structure of the different kontakia, see the Metrical Appendix in Maas and
Trypanis (1963), 510–38.
32 ‘Humble’ is spelt three different ways in the acrostics: tapeinou (ΤΑΠΕΙΝΟΥ) (e.g. in kontakion
8), tapinou (ΤΑΠΙΝΟΥ) (e.g. in kontakion 9) and tapeeinou (ΤΑΠΕΕΙΝΟΥ) (e.g. in kontakion
7). In some cases, variations like this are taken as evidence that a stanza was added (or
removed) later.
33 The acrostic of On Joseph I is ΑΒΓΔΕΖΗΘΙΚΛΜΝΞΟΠΡΣΤΥΦΧΨΩ ΑΛΦΑΒΗΤΟΝ ΡΩΜΑΝΟΥ.
That is, all the letters of the alphabet followed by the words ‘The Alphabet of Romanos’.
34 Grosdidier de Matons (1980–1), 41. This is a very common interpretation of alphabetic
acrostics in biblical poetry, according to Assis (2007), 712.
35 On the acrostic as ownership and self-imposed discipline, see Krueger (2003), 19–24,
(2004), 170–4.
1
The History of the Kontakion 11
although some kontakia develop stories not found in the Bible.36 He

makes a short conversation between John the Baptist and Jesus (Matt.
3:14–15), for example, into a whole kontakion – and creates new dia-
logues for biblical characters or between biblical and non-biblical char-
acters. The expansions and augmentations of biblical material, however,
mean that the line between biblical and non-biblical stories is blurred.
The process of augmentation of biblical themes may be said to create new
versions of the original, while biblical imagery and narratives support
the non-biblical material, for example, in the kontakion On the Victory
of the Cross.
The congregation takes on different roles in the kontakion because of
the extensive use of dialogue. Dialogue is a central part of the kontakion
and a major way in which Romanos explained his theology. Through such
dialogues, Romanos explores motivations of different characters, presents
models of behaviour (and anti-models) and enlivens the biblical narratives
of events which recur in the liturgical cycle: dialogues bring the Bible to life.
Another characteristic feature which actively involves the congregation
in the kontakion is the refrain. At the end of each strophe there is a line (or
sometimes two) which the congregation probably sang with the cantor.37
Romanos’ refrains are well integrated into the sense of each strophe.38 The
different characters in one kontakion lead the refrain at different points in
the hymn, making the congregation take on various different roles. As we
will see in Chapter 4, this is one way in which Romanos enacts his partici-
patory theology.
The History of the Kontakion
These constituent parts of the kontakion set it apart from other forms
of literature: there are no obvious Greek antecedents to the genre of the
kontakion. Rather, the kontakion creatively combines three Syriac genres
(memra, madrasha, sogitha), and incorporates elements from Greek kata
stichon hymns and homiletics. Romanos was certainly well placed to draw
36 For example, On the Victory of the Cross, which involves a lengthy dialogue between Hades
and Satan.
37 Lingas (2008), 919. Alternatively, there may have been a choir which sang the refrain on behalf
of the congregation. See Wellesz (1949), 180.
38 Unlike the Syriac refrain, often cited as evidence of Syriac influence on the kontakion
form. Maas is clear that the Greek refrain is an improvement on the Syriac one. See Maas
(1910a), 296–7.
12
12 Introduction
on these different traditions but, even supposing other kontakion writers

were not bilingual, Greek-and Syriac-speaking cultures were far from dis-
crete in this period. Even outside the numerous bilingual communities
there was much travel and translation of literature between the two linguis-
tic groups.39 I do not intend to trace the influence of different genres upon
the kontakion, since this has been amply covered by others.40 It seems clear,
however, that Romanos drew on these Syriac genres and knew the work of
Ephrem the Syrian and Jacob of Serug, among others, and that he was also
well-versed in the Greek hymnographic and homiletic traditions.
All three Syriac genres are metrical: each stanza or couplet has the same
metrical form, but different homilies/hymns use different metrical pat-
terns. The memra is a metrical sermon, set in verse but not sung, and
consists of couplets with an equal number of syllables in each line (isosyl-
labism).41 Ephrem’s memre are narrative, often following and developing
the narrative possibilities of a biblical text. The madrasha and the sogitha
are both sung hymns. They usually have acrostics, either alphabetical or
spelling out a title or a name.42 Madrashe have refrains, and often use
dialogue, but they tend to be theological reflections rather than narra-
tives.43 The sogitha, really a subset of the madrasha, is distinguished by its
dramatic use of dialogue.44 As well as general influence, Romanos clearly
drew upon particular texts – Romanos’ kontakion On the Sinful Woman
39 Alexiou (2002), 24, Brock (1982b), 17–18, (1994), 150, 152 and passim. On Greek–Syriac
bilingualism in late antiquity, see also Lee (2012), 163–73, Millar (2009), 92–103, Taylor
(2002), 298–331.
40 My own contribution to the debate can be found in Gador-Whyte (2013b). The consensus
is now a fluid picture of influence from both traditions on each other. It is difficult to assign
particular aspects to one or the other tradition. For example, the use of isosyllabism could be
evidence for the influence of either tradition: Brock (1989), 141. In general, for the influence
of Syriac literature on Romanos and the Syriac origin of the kontakion, see Baumstark
(1905), Maas (1910a), 290ff., Papoutsakis (2007), 29–75, Petersen (1985a), 174–5, (1985b).
These scholars do not focus on Greek debts, but do not discount them entirely. Ševčenko
argues for very limited Greek influence on the kontakion: Ševčenko (1980), 63. Grosdidier
de Matons originally doubted that Romanos was bilingual or was influenced by Syriac
literature: Grosdidier de Matons (1977), 286. He later revised his opinion, e.g. Grosdidier de
Matons (1980–1), 36. This revision was probably partly in response to de Halleux’s review of
Grosdidier de Matons’ book: de Halleux (1978), 632–41, esp. 641. Cameron argues for the
influence of Greek rhetoric and Greek homiletics as well as elements of the Syriac tradition:
Cameron (1991b), 92–7. Brock likewise argues for a combined culture of influence. See, for
example, Brock (1989), 151.
41 Ephrem favoured 7+7 syllables, but later Syriac writers used different metres. See Brock and
Kiraz (2006), xiii.
42 Brock (1985), 78.
43 Maas (1910a), 290.
44 Petersen (1985b), 13, Schirmann (1953), 158. See also Brock (1983), 35–45.
13
The History of the Kontakion 13
has strong resonances with a memra of the same title attributed to Ephrem
(CSCO 311, Scriptores Syri 134).45
Many of the techniques and devices found in these Syriac texts also occur
in Greek literature, and, as we have said, the two were hardly discrete and non-
interacting cultures. Greek had long since moved away from classical accent-
based metrics and there are many earlier uses of isosyllabism in Greek texts.
The kata stichon hymns are likely to have influenced Romanos. Dialogue and
question and answer literature were common in classical and later Christian
and Neoplatonic philosophical texts written by Romanos’ contemporaries.46
But dramatic dialogue was also deployed in non-philosophical texts in the
Greek Christian tradition in texts like Methodius’ Parthenion and Proclus of
Constantinople’s Homily 27, an acrostic dialogue on baptism.47 Romanos was
also familiar with the corpus of Greek texts under the name of Ephrem, usu-
ally called Greek Ephrem (Ephraem Graecus). Some of these texts are clearly
translations or adaptations of Syriac works by Ephrem, but for the majority no
Syriac version survives and their authorship is therefore disputed.48 Finally,
Romanos’ kontakia are verse, but they deploy many themes, images and tech-
niques found in Greek prose homilies. Once again, as well as the general influ-
ence, in some cases we can find a single homily which shows clear resonances
with one kontakion – for example, the homily on the man possessed attributed
to Basil of Seleucia (Or. 23, PG 85.269–77) seems to have influenced Romanos’
composition of his kontakion On the Man Possessed with Devils.49
I have used Romanos’ kontakia as examples here, and yet Romanos was
not the only kontakion writer and did not himself invent the genre.50 Names
of other kontakion writers survive (e.g. Anastasios, Kyriakos, Kosmas), but
we know little about them or the extent of their original output.51 There are
45 If this homily was not written by Ephrem, it was still roughly contemporary with him and
greatly influenced the Syriac homiletic tradition. Cf. Harvey (2002), 72. For the Greek version
of this homily, from the Ephraem Graecus corpus, see CPG 3:3952.
46 Contra Goldhill (2008), 1–11, esp. 5. Against Goldhill, see Cameron (2014), 8–21 and passim.
On late antique dialogue, see Cameron (2014) and, for example, Champion’s treatment of
dialogue texts on the eternity of the world in fifth-and sixth-century Gaza: M.W. Champion
(2014).
47 Maas (1910b), 12. On the dramatic use of dialogue in homiletics, see, for example, Cameron
(1991b), 91–108.
48 Petersen (1985b), 11.
49 Matthew 8:28–34; Mark 5:1–16; Luke 8:27–39. Cf. Maas (1910a), 300–2. Maisano also
mentions this connection between Romanos and Basil’s treatments of the possessed
man: Maisano (2010), 265.
50 Petersen calls Romanos the ‘perfector’ rather than the inventor of the kontakion: Petersen
(1985b).
51 Few of their kontakia survive. One kontakion by each of these three authors, along with several
other anonymous ones, is edited in Trypanis (1968).
14
14 Introduction
few kontakia which are clearly earlier than those of Romanos: Grosdidier
de Matons counted only four.52 There may well be more, but problems with
dating the kontakia make it difficult to trace the history of this genre. These
earlier kontakia have a similar structure to those of Romanos: they have an
acrostic, one or more proems and are written in stanzas with a refrain at the
end of each one. But the metrical systems are less complex and in some cases
the refrain does not fit logically with the preceding line. These, and the use of
an alphabetic rather than titular acrostic in some, we may take as markers of
a genre still in development.53 Romanos thus seems to have written metrically
more sophisticated kontakia, and to have developed the use of the refrain and
dialogue in his compositions. After Romanos, there were many imitators of
his work, perhaps even his students,54 and in some cases we find Romanos’
name in their acrostics.55 Wherever Romanos fitted in the naissance of this
genre, such imitation attests to his skill and fame as a hymnographer. Kontakia
were no longer composed after the ninth century,56 but remained in use for
centuries afterwards, despite this lack of composition.
The Setting of the Kontakion
The kontakia themselves give us some idea about their liturgical setting. The
opening strophe of On the Man Possessed with Devils begins thus (XI.1):
The people, faithful in their love of Christ,
coming together at a night vigil in psalms and songs,
unceasingly keep up hymns to God.
Then after the psalm has been sung,
and we have rejoiced at the well-ordered reading of the scriptures,
again we celebrate Christ in song and denounce the enemies.
For this is the lyre of knowledge
and of this knowledge Christ is the guide and the teacher,
the Lord of all.
52 Grosdidier de Matons (1977), 28. Maas likewise argues that Romanos’ kontakia are the earliest
which can be fairly securely dated, but that the primitive nature of some other kontakia
suggests they might be earlier than Romanos’: Maas (1910b), 12.
53 Grosdidier de Matons (1977), 28, 30. See also Schork (1995), 43. By the same token, Maas and
Trypanis suggest that kontakion 41, On Isaac, is an early experiment by Romanos, since it has
no refrain: Maas and Trypanis (1963), xx.
54 Domitios, for example: Grosdidier de Matons (1977), 56.
55 For example, Domitios’ kontakion On the Nativity of Saint John the Baptist has Romanos’ name
in the acrostic. It is possible that the kontakion was altered later to include Romanos’ name. See
Grosdidier de Matons (1977), 56.
56 Lingas (1995), 53, Louth (2005), 199.
15
The Setting of the Kontakion 15
Ὁ λαὸς ὁ πιστὸς ἐν ἀγάπῃ Χριστοῦ

συνελθὼν ἀγρυπνεῖ ἐν ψαλμοῖς καὶ ᾠδαῖς,
ἀκορέστως δὲ ἔχει τοὺς ὕμνους θεῷ·
ἐπειδὴ οὖν Δαβὶδ ἐμελῴδησε,
καὶ ἀναγνώσει εὐτάκτῳ γραφῶν ἐπευφράνθημεν,
αὖθις Χριστὸν ἀνυμνήσωμεν καὶ τοὺς ἐχθροὺς στηλιτεύσωμεν·
αὕτη γὰρ γνώσεως κιθάρα·
τῆς δὲ γνώσεως ταύτης Χριστὸς ὁδηγὸς καὶ διδάσκαλος,
ὁ πάντων δεσπότης.
This passage suggests that the kontakion was part of (and perhaps con-
cluded) a sung night vigil service, for the laity rather than monastics, which
comprised singing hymns and psalms and listening to the scriptures.57
Based partly on this passage from On the Man Possessed, the general schol-
arly consensus now is that the kontakion formed part of a vigil service in
the cathedral rite, the asmatike akolouthia.58 The asmatike akolouthia was
a sung service, which, according to the liturgical ordinal (typikon) of the
Great Church, incorporated vespers and the morning office (orthros) and
sometimes an all-night vigil (pannychis) or other solemn vigil (e.g. par-
amone).59 It therefore involved the singing of psalms and hymns and the
reading of scriptural passages.
Two manuscripts of the typikon of the Great Church mention the
kontakion explicitly:60 manuscript P, a ninth-to tenth-century manu-
script, refers to the singing of the kontakion at Blachernae after pan-
nychis in the middle of Lent;61 and according to a later manuscript
(Ox, 1329) the kontakion was sung after pannychis on 1 September,
in honour of Symeon the Stylite.62 On these occasions therefore, and,
we presume, at other times of the year, the kontakion formed part of a
night vigil.
Elsewhere, Romanos uses the kontakia to prepare his listeners for receiv-
ing the eucharist. On the Prodigal Son can be interpreted as an elaborate
57 The vigil was always designed for the laity and was probably originally instituted by John
Chrysostom, in competition with the Arians whose own night-time vigils Chrysostom feared
would attract non-Arians. See Baldovin (1987), 182–4, Taft (2006), 32–3.
58 Lingas (1995), 50–2, Louth (2005), 199–200. See also Frank (2006b), 59–78, Koder (2005), 21,
Krueger (2005), 297, McGuckin (2008), 649–50.
59 See Taft (1991). Mateos gives an explanation of the different uses of akolouthia in the typikon
at Mateos (1963), 279–80.
60 For Mateos’ note on the kontakion, see Mateos (1963), 301. For his introduction to the
different manuscripts of the typikon and their dates, see Mateos (1962), iv–viii.
61 Mateos (1963), 5227.
62 Mateos (1962), 412. Cf. Maisano (2002), 20.
16
16 Introduction
eucharistic metaphor,63 and in the second stanza Romanos calls for the con-
gregation to take part in this meal (XLIX.2.1–5):
So let us now hurry and partake of the meal,
if we have been thought worthy to rejoice with the Father,
let us feast with the King of the angels.
He provides bread which gives happiness,
and as drink he gives holy blood …
Ἔνθεν σπουδάσωμεν νυνὶ καὶ μετασχῶμεν τοῦ δείπνου·
ἐὰν ἀξιωθῶμεν τῷ πατρὶ συνευφρανθῆναι,
συνεστιαθῶμεν τῷ βασιλεῖ τῶν ἀγγέλων·
ἄρτους παρέχει τοὺς διδόντας μακαριότητα,
πόμα δὲ δωρεῖται ἅγιον αἷμα …
The successive hortatory subjunctives in this passage (‘let us hurry’, ‘let us

partake’, ‘let us feast’) suggest that celebration of the eucharist followed the
singing of the kontakion. Although the asmatike akolouthia was not itself a
eucharistic service, in some cases it led up to the Sunday or feast day mass.64
Since the story of the Prodigal Son (Luke 15:11–32) was not the Gospel
lection for any of the major feasts, I suggest that this kontakion was sung
towards the end of a Saturday night vigil and was used to prepare commu-
nicants both to hear the Gospel and to receive the eucharist at the Sunday
service immediately following the lengthy vigil.
Placing the kontakion in its probable liturgical setting gives us some
idea about his audience, and perhaps also their expectations of his com-
positions. The vigil service formed part of the cathedral rite, so Romanos’
listeners would have been lay people, and not predominantly monks, nuns
or ordained clergy. Since the vigil was long and sometimes lasted all night,
we can assume that it was the more devout believers who attended, perhaps
including recent converts or catechumens. We can assume that Romanos
would have been addressing both men and women: legislative (and homi-
letic) attempts to ban women from attending the vigils attest to their pop-
ularity with women.65 Romanos preached to educate, engage and illumine
lay Christians in the cathedral community.
Romanos’ kontakia quickly became both popular for use in wider litur-
gical settings and influential in a range of genres. Their early dissemina-
tion is attested by four fragments (three papyrus, one parchment) which
contain short parts of Romanos’ kontakia and which all date to between
63 Barkhuizen (1996), 39–54.
64 Louth (2005), 199.
65 Frank (2006b), 62, Taft (1998), 72–4.
17
The Liturgical Cycle 17
the late sixth and the early seventh century.66 The three papyrus fragments
may have formed part of a text for liturgical use,67 which would support
arguments that Romanos’ work was quickly employed in liturgical contexts
beyond his Constantinopolitan congregation.68 The seventh-century Life of
Mary of Egypt contains a phrase ‘the filth of my deeds’ (ὁ βόρβορος τῶν
ἔργων μου) (23), which is the refrain of Romanos’ kontakion On the Sinful
Woman.69 There is insufficient evidence to claim this as a direct borrowing,
but there would be good reasons for the writer of the Life to want to asso-
ciate Mary both with the harlot of the Gospels and with Romanos’ pres-
entation of her as the ultimate penitent. These near-contemporary glimpses
of Romanos’ work are indicators of the early status of his compositions in
liturgical settings and beyond them.
As well as these witnesses, we have those which attest to Romanos’ con-
tinuing importance over several centuries. The vigil service in which the
kontakia were performed continued in Constantinople until the Latin inva-
sion of 1204 and, although no new kontakia were being composed, the kon-
takion probably retained its place in that service.70 The preservation of some
of Romanos’ kontakia in their complete form in eleventh-century kontaka-
ria, such as the Patmos manuscripts 212 and 213, attests to the continuing
performance of the kontakion in its complete form into this later period.71
This gives Romanos an extensive reach in the history of homiletics, hym-
nography and popular religious belief in Byzantium.
The Liturgical Cycle
Having situated the kontakion in a liturgical rite, I turn now to the ques-
tion of the liturgical cycle. We know the shape of the liturgical year in the
sixth century, and Jerusalem lectionaries survive from this period,72 but no
sixth-century documentation of the Constantinopolitan liturgical cycle of
66 Koder (2005), 36–7, Krueger (2014), 65.

67 Koder (2005), 37.
68 Krueger also mentions the Miracles of Artemios (18), which refers to a cantor who sang
Romanos’ kontakia: Krueger (2014), 65. For the text, see Crisafulli and Nesbitt (1997), 114–15.
69 Krueger (2014), 233 n. 80. For the Life of Mary of Egypt, see PG 87:3697–3726. See also Kouli’s
translation: Kouli (1996), 65–93.
70 Louth (2005), 199. And possibly the kontakion was still being performed even later in
Thessaloniki, since according to Symeon of Thessaloniki (PG 155: 553D, 624D–625B) the
vigil continued there until the fifteenth century. However, there is a decline in the number of
complete kontakia in the kontakaria after the twelfth century. See Lingas (1995), 56.
71 Grosdidier de Matons (1977), 69, Lingas (1995), 56.
72 Krueger (2014), 25.
18
18 Introduction
readings survives. For feast days, the Jerusalem lectionary is a good indi-
cator of the readings but, especially for non-festal days, we must rely on
material from the ninth and tenth centuries at the earliest.73 We cannot
assume that these later documents accurately reflect sixth-century prac-
tice,74 especially given the liturgical changes we know to have taken place
in the intervening centuries, including the impact of the iconoclast contro-
versy on the liturgy.75
However, it remains possible and productive to consider the place of
the kontakia in the liturgical year. The kontakaria, the later collections in
which most kontakia survive, assign the kontakia to particular days in the
church’s year. Some recent scholarship has argued that these collections do
indeed preserve the original position of the kontakion and therefore the
readings used on those days in the sixth century.76 Often Romanos’ konta-
kia clearly fit the days assigned and this may give us an important insight
into the readings which would have been read, both on that day and in the
week before. Sometimes Romanos draws on recent readings to explore the
reading for the day, presumably assuming his listeners will remember what
they heard only a few days before. My purpose is not to determine how
accurately the kontakaria reflect sixth-century practice, but rather to read
Romanos’ texts with the liturgical cycle and biblical texts in mind and to
focus on the biblical lections and feasts to which particular kontakia clearly
respond. So throughout I analyse Romanos’ texts as performed liturgical
texts, living out the cycle of feasts as a way of living the life of Christ, and as
part of that I will show how the kontakia engage with biblical readings. In
some cases these will be the readings apparently set down for the day, but in
others the position given in the kontakaria will seem inaccurate. This may
also tell us more, both about Romanos and about the liturgical life of sixth-
century Constantinople.
73 Krueger (2014), 25.
74 According to Gy, the system of readings which survives for festal days is certainly not older
than the seventh century, and most likely dates to the ninth century: Gy (1967), 256.
75 Kazhdan and Constable (1982), 88, Marinis (2010), 285–6.
76 See, for example, Koder (2005), 35, 39. Maisano has produced a helpful table of the liturgical
cycle and the corresponding kontakia: Maisano (2002), 99–100.
19
1 On the Passion of Christ
In this chapter I analyse a single kontakion, On the Passion of Christ,

focusing on Romanos’ different rhetorical techniques. In the course
of this tour through his rhetoric, I paint a more detailed picture of
Romanos’ kontakia and the kontakion genre. I demonstrate Romanos’
proficiency in rhetoric and the wide range of figures he uses to com-
municate his ideas and make his poetry engaging, vivid and dramatic.
We will see how Romanos uses, appropriates and transforms biblical
and homiletic material, and the ways in which rhetoric embodies and
communicates the central ideas of correction and perfection (‘the sec-
ond Adam’), new creation (‘the second creation’) and preparation for its
consummation in the eschaton (‘the second coming’). In seeing these
rhetorical figures and theological ideas as they are presented in one kon-
takion, the rhetorical and conceptual coherence of these central ideas
begins to emerge. The following chapters will take up individual ideas
in more detail and we will be inevitably drawn back into Romanos’ use
of rhetoric and imagery.
This hymn was probably sung on Good Friday,1 the day which commem-
orates the crucifixion of Jesus. It narrates Christ’s appearance before the
high priest Caiaphas and Pontius Pilate: the events leading up to his cru-
cifixion. Romanos creates a lengthy debate between Jesus and the Jewish
crowd about healing on the Sabbath, and explores Jesus’ interactions with
Caiaphas and Pilate, in order to demonstrate the significance of the cruci-
fixion for human salvation. As such, it is a particularly appropriate choice
for establishing the coherence of Romanos’ soteriology and how the key
themes of correction and perfection, new creation, and participation and
anticipation fit together in one composition.
1 Schork (1995), 115. 19
20
Dramatic Beginnings
On the Passion of Christ begins dramatically, setting the tone for the rest of
the hymn. Romanos brings the events of the Passion into the present in the
first proem with the word ‘today’ (Pr.1.1):
Today the foundations of the earth trembled …2
Σήμερον ἐταράττετο τῆς γῆς τὰ θεμέλια
Combined with imperatives in strophe 1 (e.g. ‘stand back’, ‘do not dare’),
the opening presents the events of the Passion as contemporary ones. This
is a dramatizing device, which brings to life the church’s liturgical calendar,
and makes the events of Christ’s crucifixion present. The congregation lives
out this episode (and the whole Gospel week by week) through Romanos’
hymns. The incarnation is made a present reality in much the same way
in Romanos’ famous Christmas hymn: ‘Today a virgin gives birth to the
one who is beyond being’ (ἡ παρθένος σήμερον τὸν ὑπερούσιον τίκτει).3 This
dramatic device makes two connected theological points. Romanos believes
that Christ’s incarnation, death and resurrection dramatically changed the
world; the incarnation was an eschatological event. Part of this was a change
in the nature of time: time is not linear after the incarnation, but rather past,
present and future events converge. This altered world is a new creation, in
which Christians are called to participate. This period is one of confirma-
tion of the eschaton before its final consummation. Romanos makes Gospel
events present to encourage his congregation to participate in the life of
Christ and thereby in God’s life. By creating a vivid and contemporary
narration of the crucifixion, Romanos enacts the change in time which he
believes took place at the incarnation, and he calls his congregation to par-
ticipate in the ‘second’ creation inaugurated at that point. These two ideas,
new creation and participation, are important facets of Romanos’ theology.
These changes in the nature of time are echoed by changes in the natu-
ral world, which increase the drama and emphasize the significance of the
Passion (Pr. 1.1–2):
… the foundations of the earth trembled,
the sun hid, not able to endure seeing [what was happening].
… ἐταράττετο τῆς γῆς τὰ θεμέλια,
ὁ ἥλιος ἠλλοιοῦτο μὴ στέγων θεωρῆσαι·
2 All references to Romanos’ kontakia in this chapter are to Oxf. XX, On the Passion of Christ,
unless otherwise stated.
I.Pr.1. See also, for example, II.Pr.2; V.Pr.1.
3
21
Dramatic Beginnings 21
Like the change in time, disruptions of nature demonstrate both how unnat-
ural and how world-changing was Christ’s crucifixion. The natural world
cannot accept what humanity has done, so it rebels against it in earthquakes
and eclipses. Romanos elides the events which Matthew’s Gospel narrates at
the death of Jesus (Matt. 27:45, 51):4
From noon on, darkness came over the whole land until three in the afternoon. …
At that moment the curtain of the temple was torn in two, from top to bottom. The
earth shook, and the rocks were split.
Romanos combines these Gospel verses and personifies the natural world,
making its revulsion more personal and the events more dramatic. Such
upheaval in the natural world was associated with divine displeasure in
contemporary writings. The chronicler Malalas refers to earthquakes as ‘the
wrath of God’ (e.g. 18.37, 18.40) and, according to the historian Procopius,
the plague in Constantinople occasioned a change in behaviour for the
unrighteous (Wars II.22–33), who felt that their sinfulness may have been
to blame.5 In the Secret History Procopius blames the plague (and many
other disasters) on the impiety and immorality of the emperor Justinian
(SH. 18.44–5).6 If the emperor had behaved better, perhaps God would have
spared the people. Overtones of this topos of divine displeasure manifesting
itself in natural disasters would have resonated with Romanos’ congrega-
tion. Thus the reaction of the natural world might suggest divine anger with
those who crucified Jesus: the Jews.7 Most fundamentally, these extraordi-
nary events indicate the world-shattering significance of Christ’s Passion.
Like the conflation of time, Christ’s entry into the world and the events of
his life change the behaviour of the natural world. The incarnation trans-
forms creation.
This theme continues in the first stanza after the two proems, in which
Romanos calls (in a dramatic tricolon) on the natural world to respond to
the crucifixion by being properly horrified (1.1–3):
Stand back, shuddering, O Heaven; plunge into chaos, O Earth;
do not dare, Sun, to look on your master
who hangs on the cross by his own will.
4 Compare Mark 15:33 and Luke 23:44–5.

5 For a list of the earthquakes in Malalas including those referred to as ‘the wrath of God’, see
Jeffreys (1990), 155–9.
Cf. Cameron (1985), 42. On the type of plague, where it came from, numbers of dead and
6
aftermath, see Allen (1979). On Malalas’ and Procopius’ different interpretations of events, see
Scott (1985).
On the Jews in Romanos, see further below and in Chapter 3.
7
2
Ἔκστηθι φρίττων, ⟨ὦ⟩ οὐρανέ, δῦνον εἰς χάος, ὦ γῆ,

μὴ τολμήσῃς, ἥλιε, σὸν δεσπότην
κατιδεῖν ἐπὶ τοῦ ξύλου βουλήσει κρεμάμενον·
These addresses and imperatives call for the correct (and expected)
response from the natural world: one of horror. The most stable and most
predictable elements in nature are repelled by the crucifixion of God’s son
to the point that they cannot bear to continue their normal behaviour. As
we saw above, the Gospels emphasize the natural world’s revulsion at this
unnatural event. The direct addresses to heaven, earth and the sun, how-
ever, are Romanos’ creation. The Gospel writers merely report the natural
world’s reaction, but Romanos enters the story and talks to the natural
world in a dramatic use of apostrophe.8 These imperatives personify and
make characters out of the heaven, earth and sun. They have become play-
ers in the drama of the Passion, and Romanos (as director) calls on them
to play their part.9
Romanos draws his tricolon to a dramatic close (the cross) and uses
the rhetorical form to emphasize the significant theological point: the free
will of Jesus Christ. Christ was not compelled to be crucified, but freely
chose it. Here Romanos is influenced by the christological formulations
of, among others, the Cappadocians. The freedom of Christ, according to
Gregory of Nyssa, is evidence of his true humanity.10 Freedom, or choice,
is something which humans are granted by God, it is part of what it means
to be human.11 So Christ’s willingness to go to the cross is evidence of his
humanity but also of his divinity, since his actions are the perfection of
humanity; he exercises perfect virtue and demonstrates the type of human
God calls everyone to be.12
For those who supported the Council of Chalcedon in 451, it became
important to acknowledge the free will of Christ, as it provided evidence
On narrative apostrophe in Romanos, see Barkhuizen (1986a).

8
Although I use a dramatic metaphor, I do not suggest that Romanos’ kontakia were literally
9
part of a liturgical drama. There is no firm evidence of liturgical drama in the sixth century in
the East. La Piana suggested that dramatic homilies were delivered by several presbyters who
performed the dialogues, and argued for the existence of trilogies of liturgical drama. See La
Piana (1936). See also Carpenter (1936). So far nothing conclusive has been proved. Contra
La Piana on the existence of Byzantine theatre before the iconoclast period, see Schork (1966).
On liturgical dramas in the West, see Muir (1995). There were certainly dramatic homilies, by
which Romanos was probably influenced. See, for example, Cunningham (2008), 875. On the
influence of Greek drama on Romanos, see Tomadakis (1974), 401–9.
10 Antirrheticus adversus Apollinarium in Gregorius Nyssena Opera (hereafter GNO) 3.1:181.14–
22. For the edition, see Mueller (1958), 127–233.
11 Harrison (1988), 40–1. See also Harrison (1992).
12 GNO 3.1:198.1–7; 199.6–11. See also Daley (2002b), 482.
23
Dramatic Beginnings 23
of his true humanity.13 Their opponents, they believed, placed either

too much emphasis on the divinity of Christ and so risked diminish-
ing the importance of his humanity for the salvation of the world,14 or
emphasized the union of the two natures to the extent that the human
nature was obscured by the divine.15 So, in the passage above, Romanos
emphasizes that Christ is divine (using the term ‘master’, line 2), while
simultaneously drawing attention to that faculty of will which marks
him as human.
One of Romanos’ near contemporaries, Leontius of Constantinople, sim-
ilarly mentions Christ’s willing suffering at various points in his homilies.16
In his fourteenth homily, entitled A Homily on the Transfiguration of our
Lord Jesus Christ, Leontius says
… here Christ our rational sheep, even if
he was sacrificed,
was sacrificed nevertheless of his own will,
was buried of his own will,
rose of his own will,
ascending into heaven of his own will,
will come again of his own will in glory of his Father …17
ἐνταῦθα τὸ λογικὸν ἡμῶν πρόβατον Χριστός, εἰ
καὶ ἐσφάγη, ἀλλ’ ὅμως
βουλήσει ἐσφάγη,
βουλήσει ἐτάφη,
βουλήσει ἀνέστη,
βουλήσει εἰς οὐρανοὺς ἀνῆλθεν,
βουλήσει ἐλεύσεται ἐν τῇ δόξῃ τοῦ πατρὸς αὐτοῦ …18
Leontius’ emphatic rhetorical repetition strongly underlines that Jesus,

although incarnate, was not bound by human desires, but exercised his
perfect human will freely to choose the path he did. In such insistence
in Romanos and Leontius on Christ’s voluntary suffering we see some-
thing of the christological concerns of the sixth century, informed both
13 McLeod (2012), 382.
14 Küng (1987), 515, McLeod (2012), 382. In the seventh century, concerns about the two natures
of Christ translated into a debate about whether Christ had one or two wills. On which, see
Hovorun (2008).
15 Cyril of Alexandria was emphatic that Christ was fully human but that this did not diminish
his divinity. See Young (2013), 217–18. On the importance of the human nature of Christ in
Cyril’s understanding of soteriology, see Anderson (2014), chapter 1.
16 See the introduction in Allen and Datema (1991), 9–10.
17 Translation taken from Allen and Datema (1991), 184.
18 Homily XIV, lines 59–65: Allen and Datema (1987).
24
by the Council of Chalcedon and by earlier theologians such as Gregory

of Nyssa.
The dramatic opening of the Passion kontakion continues with another
ascending tricolon (1.4–7):
Let rocks shatter, for the rock of life is now wounded by nails.
Let the curtain of the temple be split,
since the master’s body is being pierced with a lance by the lawless.
Let all creation together shudder and groan at the suffering of the creator.
ῥαγήτωσαν πέτραι, ἡ γὰρ πέτρα τῆς ζωῆς
νῦν τοῖς ἥλοις τιτρώσκεται·
σχισθήτω τοῦ ναοῦ τὸ καταπέτασμα,
σώματος δεσποτικοῦ λόγχῃ νυσσομένου ὑπὸ ἀνόμων·
ἁπλῶς πᾶσα ἡ κτίσις τοῦ κτίστου τὸ πάθος φρίξῃ, στενάξῃ·
Once again Romanos calls for the Gospel events to take place, both exhib-
iting an authoritative relationship with scripture and playing the role of
director or storyteller in bringing the events before his audience/congre-
gation. The tension builds up through the reactions from the natural world
(rocks) and an inanimate, man-made object (the temple curtain), leading
up to Romanos’ call for the whole creation to groan. Each reaction is a
response to a particular part of Christ’s suffering (the arma Christi in later
tradition):19 the whole creation mirrors the suffering of Christ. The repe-
tition of ‘rock’ in line 4 creates a pun on Christ as the rock (1 Cor. 10:4)
and the stones on the ground which react to the crucifixion (Matt. 27:51).20
The temple curtain is another reference to this passage of Matthew and to
the similar accounts of Mark 15:38 and Luke 23:45. Romanos also makes a
word play on creation and creator in line 7, emphasizing it by juxtaposing
the two words. This tricolon (and the word plays in it) highlights the par-
adoxical nature of Christ’s crucifixion and the incomprehensibility of the
salvific suffering of the creator.
Paradox is part of the new reality, in which the incomprehensible can and
does happen. From the Gospels and the first Christian theologians, paradox
had been at the heart of Christian doctrine.21 The virgin birth, for instance,
or the death of the immortal God on the cross, are events which require a
different sort of discourse than that needed to talk about ‘ordinary’ events
19 This tradition is mainly western and many centuries after Romanos, but is likely to have been
influenced by Byzantine traditions. See Hirsh (1996), 127–9. On the arma Christi tradition
more broadly, see Cooper and Denny-Brown (2014).
20 On the witness of rocks, see also Luke 19:40.
21 Cameron (1991a), 156, 158.
25
Direct Address and the Self 25
like human death or birth.22 The apostle Paul famously used paradoxical
language to talk about the crucifixion in 1 Corinthians 1:22–5:
For Jews demand signs and Greeks desire wisdom, but we proclaim Christ cruci-
fied, a stumbling block to Jews and foolishness to Gentiles, but to those who are
the called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ the power of God and the wisdom of God.
For God’s foolishness is wiser than human wisdom, and God’s weakness is stronger
than human strength.
For Paul the Christian life is also one of paradox: ‘For while we live, we are
always being given up to death for Jesus’ sake, so that the life of Jesus may be
made visible in our mortal flesh.’ (2 Cor. 4:11). Paul believed that living the
life of an apostle necessarily meant participating in Christ’s suffering,23 and
he endured many hardships as a result of his ministry. We will look further
at paradox later in this chapter and in Chapter 3.
Direct Address and the Self
But before Romanos moves on to his imaginative narration and exploration

of the biblical story, he addresses Jesus directly: the second strophe of the
kontakion is a prayerful apostrophe which highlights in a personal way the
significance of Christ’s sacrifice on the cross (2):
My saviour, you took my [nature] so that I might take yours.
You accepted the suffering,24 so that I now
might look down on sufferings. By your death I live again.
You were placed in a tomb and gave heaven to me as my home.
[By] going down into the depths, you raised me up.
[By] destroying the gates of Hades you opened the heavenly gates for me.
You withstood everything clearly because of the fallen one and endured everything,25
so that Adam might dance.
Εἵλου, σωτήρ μου, τὰ ἐμά, ἵν’ ἐγὼ λάβω τὰ σά·
κατεδέξω τὸ παθεῖν, ἵν’ ἐγὼ νῦν
22 I am indebted to Averil Cameron for her work on Christian discourse. See Cameron (1991a),
especially chapter 5. Paradox was also used to talk about the nature of God, e.g. Ephrem Nis
3.2, in which he uses kataphatic and apophatic language to talk about God, setting the two up
against each other in a paradoxical way. On this aspect of paradox in religious language, see
Young (1979). We will deal here with paradoxes relating to the new creation, which are usually
those relating to the incarnation or the crucifixion and resurrection.
23 Savage (1996), 173–4.
24 On the word play and the link between passions and suffering, see further below.
25 The ‘fallen one’ is singular and could refer either to ‘me’ or to ‘Adam’, but the point is the same.
26
τῶν παθῶν καταφρονήσω· σῷ θανάτῳ ἀνέζησα·

ἐτέθης ἐν τάφῳ καὶ εἰς οἴκησιν ἐμοὶ ἐδωρήσω παράδεισον·
εἰς βάθος κατελθὼν ἐμὲ ἀνύψωσας·
πύλας Ἅιδου καθελὼν πύλας οὐρανίους ἠνέῳξάς μοι·
σαφῶς πάντα ὑπέστης διὰ τὸν πεσόντα· πάντα ἠνέσχου,
ἵνα χορεύῃ ὁ Ἀδάμ.
Through this direct address Romanos characterizes Jesus, but more impor-
tantly creates a persona for himself with which he expects the congregation
to identify. He makes a statement about his salvation which nevertheless
refers to human salvation in general: Romanos represents his congregation’s
experiences and hopes for salvation. Since Romanos recognizes the difficul-
ties involved in imitating Christ without some assistance or mediation, he
creates a persona for himself in which he represents both humanity in all its
brokenness, and also an appropriately penitent Christian.26 The congregation
can thus identify with him but also seek to imitate him. So in this passage he
relates Christ’s actions directly to himself. The personal nature of this view of
salvation is also intended to appeal to listeners, who can place themselves in
the first-person pronouns: Christ’s actions save humanity in general but also
every person individually. This device, narrative apostrophe, works to connect
Romanos (and thereby his congregation) closely with the events described.27
Romanos becomes a player in the Passion drama and, through him, so does
the whole congregation, living the life of Christ through this performance.
Thus Romanos draws his congregation into a closer relationship with Christ.
Inserting himself as an example of redeemed humanity is not meant to ele-
vate Romanos above his congregation. The purpose, rather, is to demonstrate
that redemption is available to all. In other hymns, Romanos portrays himself
with carefully constructed humility in a penitential persona. Perhaps the best
example is from On the Sinful Woman, in which Romanos not only likens
himself to the prostitute, but even says he is not as worthy as she (X.1.9–11):
… terrified, the prostitute no longer remained a prostitute.
But I, although terrified, persist
in the mire of my deeds.
… πτοηθεῖσα ἡ πόρνη οὐκέτι ἔμεινε πόρνη·
ἐγὼ δὲ καὶ πτοούμενος ἐπιμένω
τῷ βορβόρῳ τῶν ἔργων μου.
26 Krueger (2006a), 256, 259. See also Krueger (2013), 290–302. On the influence of Romanos on
later homilists including in relation to the penitential persona, see Cunningham (2010). See
also Chapter 4 below.
27 Barkhuizen (1986a), 19, 26.
27
Narrative 27
Throughout this hymn Romanos plays the penitent, begging not only for
forgiveness but for the ability to repent completely. As in the hymn on the
crucifixion, the congregation is thus meant to identify with his sinfulness,
just as he identifies with the prostitute’s, and, like both characters, to repent
of their sins. The prostitute is held up as the prime example of repentance,28
but Romanos’ calls for God’s assistance indicate that all is not lost for listen-
ers who find themselves unable to repent as completely as the sinful woman
of the Gospels.29 His portrayal of the possibility of redemption is consist-
ently and characteristically optimistic.
The basis for this optimism is Romanos’ insistence on the great exchange
whereby sinful humanity is able to participate in the life of God. In this
hymn on the crucifixion (stanza 2, above), metrical units emphasize the
opposition of characters and roles being made in this passage and high-
light the great exchange which takes place in the crucifixion. Romanos’
references to Christ are always in the first metrical unit and the following
units in each line are related to Romanos himself. This structural device and
the paradoxical statements it houses emphasize the lengths to which God
went to save humanity from death: he became human that humans might
become divine (i.e. ‘you took my [nature] so that I might take yours’). This
exchange formula is central to the concepts of correction and perfection
which will be important for Romanos (as we will see in Chapter 2): God
became human in the person of Jesus to correct human sin and perfect
human life.
The paradoxes in this paragraph reflect the counter-intuitive reality of
the incarnation, crucifixion and resurrection. God’s descent to earth dra-
matically altered norms and shattered expectations. Christ’s descent means
human ascent, his passion means an end to passions (and suffering – see
further below); death now means life.
Narrative
Romanos follows the dramatic opening and direct address to Jesus with a
creative narration of the story of the Passion.30 On the Passion of Christ is
based on the Gospel accounts of the events leading up to Christ’s crucifix-
ion (the Passion narratives), but rather than following a particular Gospel,
28 Krueger (2013), 294.
29 On Romanos’ self-portrayal as a penitent Christian, see further in Chapter 4 below and
Krueger (2006a), 255–74.
30 On narrative and drama in the kontakia, see Eriksen (2013).
28
Romanos’ hymn is a combination of the different accounts. For instance,

Caiaphas’ statement that it is better for one man to die (4.2–3) appears only
in John’s Gospel (John 18:14) and only in Matthew and Mark does Jesus
make no reply to Pilate’s charges (7.1–6; Matt. 27:14; Mark 15:5). This blend
of stories reflects Romanos’ conception of scripture as a unity, but also his
emphasis on creating the fullest possible context for the reading of the day.
While we know that Romanos used a (Syriac) harmonized Gospel (diates-
saron) – another reflection of his belief in the unity of scripture – as well as
the four individual Gospels, it is not clear that he does so here.31 Rather, we
can see in Romanos a concern to contextualize the daily lection, drawing
on other scriptural passages where necessary to create the richest reading
of the Passion possible.
Romanos is also concerned with crafting a good story and with teach-
ing. So he chooses from the different accounts the details of the story
which are relevant to his purpose.32 Caiaphas’ statement ‘Did I not say
rightly before: “It is fitting | that this man alone die and not the whole
nation?” ’ (Οὐ καλῶς εἶπον τὸ πρίν· ‘συμφέρει | ἀπολέσθαι τοῦτον μόνον
καὶ μὴ ὅλον τὸ ἔθνος;’) (4.2–3), for instance, allows Romanos to digress (in
a highly rhetorical strophe) on the miracle that makes an enemy of God
foretell the truth (4.4–7):
Who [ever] saw the snake bringing forth sweet honey instead of its own venom?
Who [ever] beheld a flame sprinkling dew?
Who ever heard a liar speaking the truth like Caiaphas?
Without meaning to, he prophesied that you would die for the sake of all …
τίς εἶδεν ἀσπίδα ἀντὶ τοῦ ἰοῦ αὑτῆς γλυκὺ μέλι προφέρουσαν;
τίς ἐθεάσατο φλόγα δροσίζουσαν;
τίς ἀκήκοε ποτὲ ψεῦδος ἀληθεῦον ὡς Καϊάφαν;
μὴ θέλων προφητεύει ὅτι ὑπὲρ πάντων θνῄσκεις …
The three rhetorical questions of lines 4 to 6 form a tricolon, ending in

the true-speaking liar, Caiaphas.33 The first two lines of the tricolon help to
31 A diatessaron is a unification of the four Gospels. Petersen has made a detailed study of
phrases in Romanos which seem to have been borrowed from a Syriac Diatessaron. See
Petersen (1985b), especially 52–168. Petersen does not argue that Romanos only used a
diatessaron, but that he made use of one in addition to the four individual Gospels. See
Petersen (1983), 491.
32 Constructing a narrative always involves choosing to include some elements and leave out
others. See Nilsson (2006), 28, White (1980), 14.
33 Schork’s argument that Caiaphas comes to recognize the truth of his statement seems
unlikely: Schork (1957), 311. Romanos is concerned rather to show that nothing is impossible
for God. He can enable even liars to speak the truth.
29
Narrative 29
make the third more dramatic and contradictory. The anaphora (repetition
of ‘who’ at the beginning of each line) emphasizes the tricolon. The para-
doxes employed in this passage emphasize the miracle: the power of God to
prophesy through an enemy.
Paradoxes also signify that nature has been changed because of Christ.
Snakes now spit out honey instead of venom, liars now speak the truth,
and so on. Honey and venom, and fire and water go together in the
new creation just as life and death go together in Christ’s crucifixion.
He died, but by his death he saved all humankind from sin and death.
Rhetorical questions highlight how impossible these paradoxes are.
Jesus’ silence before Pilate similarly allows Romanos to employ clever
paradoxes, emphasizing the significance of the crucifixion for human-
ity. Paradoxes change reality and thus perform and are symbols of the
post-incarnation reality.
Romanos also uses Caiaphas’ statement to dwell on the faults of the
Jews, who not only refuse to recognize the Messiah but actually put him
to death. The first paradox in the passage above is a reference to Psalm
140: ‘They make their tongue sharp as a snake’s, and under their lips is
the venom of vipers’ (Ps. 140:3). It is a call for deliverance from ene-
mies.34 Through this biblical allusion Romanos places Caiaphas (and thus
the Jewish crowd) in the place of the enemies who plot Christ’s downfall
(Ps. 140:4). Romanos excludes the Jews from the new creation, blaming
them collectively for the death of Jesus and claiming that their rejection of
him as their Messiah excludes them from participation in the new reality
which he instituted.35
Romanos’ freedom with the text allows him to combine different
Gospel accounts into one narrative about Caiaphas. It also enables him
to change and augment the story. The kontakion focuses on a dialogue
between Jesus and the crowd (strophes 8 to 12) which is not part of the
Gospel Passion narratives but draws on an earlier event in the Gospels
(Mark 2:23–3:1–5; Luke 6:1–10, John 5:9b–18) in which Jesus heals on
the Sabbath and the Pharisees are angered. In this story Jesus says, ‘The
Son of Man is lord of the Sabbath’ (Luke 6:5), just as he does in Romanos’
dialogue (10.2–3). But Romanos’ dialogue moves well beyond this Gospel
story. Romanos gives Jesus a lengthy speech and allows the Jews only
34 Psalm 140 is part of a group of lament psalms. See Wallace (2009), 188.

35 Romanos’ theological understanding of the Jewish place in salvation history will be
explored further below and in Chapter 3. For a theological reading of references to Jews in
contemporary Orthodox liturgy, see Theokritoff (2003a), (2003b).
30
short responses. Jesus rebukes the crowd with the imagined retorts of the
Gentiles (11.1–2):
You have heard the blame from the many [nations] dwelling around you,
that you observe the Sabbath and [yet] are sick
Ψόγον ἠκούσατε ἐκ πολλῶν τῶν παροικούντων κύκλῳ,
ὡς τηροῦντες σάββατα καὶ νοσοῦντες·
Through this creative extension of the biblical narrative, Romanos argues

that the Jews, along with their laws and the Sabbath, represent the old order,
which no longer defines reality. It no longer suffices to observe the Sabbath;
now humanity must live Christ-like lives in preparation for the final judge-
ment and consummation of the eschaton. Romanos’ imaginative recrea-
tion and extension of the Gospel story is one way in which he expounds
scripture and teaches his congregation about the new reality and how they
should live in it.
This freedom with the text places Romanos firmly within the homiletic
tradition. The preacher is vested with authority to interpret and teach the
scriptures and this enables him to play around with the story for interpre-
tive and teaching purposes. One Syriac writer used the story of the ‘Good
Thief ’ who was crucified with Jesus (Luke 23:40–3) to develop a long dia-
logue between the Thief and the Angel who guards the entrance to para-
dise.36 This dialogue enabled the author to explore various themes around
the crucifixion, resurrection and salvation of humanity. Leontius, presby-
ter of Constantinople, expands the dialogue of the story of the raising of
Lazarus (John 11:1–44) to allow Jesus to counter Arianism.37 Leontius’ Jesus
interprets Martha’s statement (‘if you had been here, my brother would not
have died’) as a foreshadowing of Arianism and corrects her. In Romanos’
creative reinvention of the Passion narrative, he focuses on Jesus’ miracles
(8.4–8) to emphasize his divinity. This reminder of the miracles and the
debate over the Sabbath together point out the Jews’ lack of understanding
and faith. Jesus’ remarks about the Sabbath also allow Romanos to explore
God’s reasons for becoming human: to save humanity from sin and death.
For Romanos, constructing a good story involves imaginative crea-
tion.38 The freedom to bend the Gospel narratives a little, combined with
36 Brock (2002).
37 Homily II, lines 291–312. See also Allen and Datema (1991), 48.
38 We know from numerous other Byzantine authors that storytelling was an important element
of Byzantine culture. Roger Scott has demonstrated that the one story may be adapted by
different authors for quite different purposes, so that a story which was once propaganda for
Emperor Michael III becomes anti-propaganda in the hands of Pseudo-Symeon. See Scott
(2009), 41–2, (2010), 115–31.
31
Dialogue 31
the sorts of rhetorical devices available for a poet, enables Romanos to

construct a coherent narrative and persuasive theology. By appealing to
his congregation’s desire for a good story Romanos makes the Gospel
account more vivid and thus draws the congregation into participation
in the life of Christ.
Dialogue
Romanos constructs a vivid narrative primarily through dialogue and

related techniques.39 He makes extensive use of biblical and non-biblical
dialogues and monologues in his hymns, using both biblical and invented
characters. They add drama to his homilies, as he creatively invents
speeches and situations which help to draw the congregation into par-
ticipation in the performed life of Christ. In On the Passion of Christ,
Romanos has Jesus refute the arguments of the crowd in a fairly one-
sided dialogue which asserts Jesus’ superiority over his opponents. It is a
highly rhetorical speech, full of repetition, antistrophe, alliteration, and
assonance, clearly designed to persuade. The speech lasts for over five
strophes, but here is one extract (9.3–6):
[Crowd:]: ‘You are not crucified for the sake of these things,
but for breaking the Sabbath.’
[Jesus:]: ‘And what is better, to have mercy on the sick
or to honour the Sabbath?
You have broken Sabbaths many times,
and I did not come from my Father’s bosom for the sake of Sabbaths …’
‘Χάριν τούτων οὐ σταυροῦσαι, ἀλλ’ ὡς λύων τὸ σάββατον’.

‘Καὶ τί καλὸν ἄρα, ἐλεῆσαι ἀσθενεῖς ἢ τιμῆσαι τὸ σάββατον;40
ἐλύσατε ὑμεῖς πολλάκις σάββατα,
καὶ ἐκ κόλπων πατρικῶν οὐ παρεγενόμην χάριν σαββάτων …’
Repetition of ‘Sabbath’ in the antistrophe here and throughout the speech

(e.g. 10.3–5) emphasizes the main point of contention. Romanos repeats
39 On the importance of dialogue in homiletics and poetics before Romanos, see Cameron
(1991b), 92, 95, Cunningham (1995), 71, (2003), 101, Kecskeméti (1989), (1993). On dialogue
as a dramatizing device, see also La Piana (1936), 176. On Syriac dialogue hymns, see Brock
(1983), (1987), (1991), Upson-Saia (2006). On their naissance, see Brock (2001). See further in
Chapter 4 below.
40 I have followed the SC edition in the accentuation of καὶ τί. See Grosdidier de Matons
(1967), 214.
32
‘for the sake of ’, ‘honour’ and ‘to crucify’ throughout, focusing on the com-
ing crucifixion and its effects, as opposed to the effects of honouring the
Sabbath. We will look at this section of the speech again shortly. Yet it is not
the crowd who is to be persuaded by all this rhetoric, but rather Romanos’
congregation. He does this through the technique of characterization.
Characterization (Ethopoeia)
Characterization (ethopoeia) is defined in rhetorical handbooks as the ‘imi-

tation of the character of a person supposed to be speaking’.41 In On the
Passion of Christ, Romanos works hardest to develop the character of Jesus.
Christ is characterized as a clever speaker as an excess of rhetorical figures
are put into his mouth. He employs numerous devices including repetition,
anaphora, antistrophe, rhetorical questions, assonance and synecdoche.
Christ is also a vivid and engaging character: his argumentative speech is
lively and heartfelt and makes him seem present to the listeners.
Most importantly, however, Romanos sets Jesus up as a formidable oppo-
nent and an authoritative interpreter of scripture. Jesus reverses the argu-
ments of the Jews, turning their own words against them; his opponents
are silenced by his arguments; his interpretation of God’s words confounds
them. Christ’s apparent disrespect for the Sabbath is not disrespect at all,
but rather by healing on the Sabbath he has glorified it. In the Gospel stories
(Matt. 12:9–14; Mark 3:1–6; Luke 6:6–11) Jesus confounds the Pharisees by
responding to their query about whether it is lawful to heal on the Sabbath
with ‘Is it lawful to do good or to do harm on the Sabbath, to save life or
to kill?’ (Mark 3:4). Naturally the Pharisees cannot respond that it is lawful
to do harm on the Sabbath, and since their only possible response is to
admit that healing on the Sabbath is lawful, they remain silent. In these
accounts, Jesus does not need to berate his opponents further, since their
silence is proof of his victory. In contrast, Romanos’ Jesus does not hold
back. He argues that the Jews have made many other transgressions and
that his purpose in coming was not to uphold a small facet of the Law, but
rather to restore health to all creation. Romanos’ Jesus says that the Jewish
observance of the Sabbath has done them little good (11.1–2, 7):
You have heard blame from the many who dwell around you,
that ‘they observe the Sabbath and [yet] are sick’ …
41 Hermogenes, Progymnasmata. See Kennedy (2003), 84. See also Patricia Matsen’s Appendix II
in Rollinson (1981), 160ff.
3
Refrain 33
but I, by saving all on the Sabbath, have brought much glory

[to the Sabbath] …
Ψόγον ἠκούσατε ἐκ πολλῶν τῶν παροικούντων κύκλῳ,
ὡς τηροῦντες σάββατα καὶ νοσοῦντες·…
ἐγὼ δὲ πάντας σώσας τ[ῷ σαβ]βάτῳ πλέον
κλέος παρέσχον …
Jesus gives voice to the Gentile critics of the Jews, sympathizing with
their rebuke of the law-abiding Jewish community. Their observance of
the Law has gone too far; it has caused them to be blind to their own
Messiah and to the plights of their fellow human beings, like those Jesus
healed. Romanos asserts that, although the Jews do not realize it, Jesus’
acts of healing are part of the new reality which he has instituted. In
this kontakion and throughout the corpus, Romanos reminds his read-
ers of the Jews’ incomprehension and blind rejection of Jesus. This reso-
nates with contemporary violence against Jews and other non-Christian
groups, and encourages listeners to maintain this stance against Judaism.
Romanos’ general treatment of Jews in the kontakia, including such
damaging rhetoric, will be explored further in Chapter 3, and at the
conclusion of this chapter.
Refrain
The debate between Jesus and the Jews is another way in which Romanos
weaves his congregation into the events of the Passion story, making them
play first the crowd and then Jesus through the refrain. This refrain, ‘so
that Adam might dance’ (ἵνα χορεύῃ ὁ Ἀδάμ), which concludes each stanza
and which the congregation (or perhaps a choir representing them) sang,
is the most obvious way in which listeners participate.42 Romanos puts
this line into the mouths of the various characters in the hymn, thereby
making the congregation enact different roles within one kontakion. In
strophe 7 (lines 7–8), the crowd says to Pilate:
‘He is liable for death for what we claim he did. For this reason he is silent,
so that Adam might dance.’
… Ἔνοχος ἔστιν ὧν ἡμεῖς αἰτοῦμεν· ὅθεν κωφεύει,
42 Grosdidier de Matons (1980–1), 40, Maas (1910a), 289. On the role of the congregation, see
further in Chapter 4 below.
34
The congregation sings the refrain, playing the part of the crowd. Then
(at 8.7–8) the same words are spoken by Jesus:
‘Perhaps it is not because of these things, rather in pay for them,
that I suffer and die
μὴ τάχα διὰ ταῦτα, μᾶλλον δ’ ἀντὶ τούτων πάσχω καὶ θνῄσκω,
ἵνα χορεύῃ ὁ Ἀδάμ
Now the congregation plays Jesus. By performing parts of the narrative they
perform the life of Christ. They thus participate in the new reality inaugu-
rated by the incarnation. But they also perform the exclusion of the Jews.
The congregation plays both saviour and sinner, concluding the debate
between Jesus and the crowd in the role of the former. The congregation is
to imitate Christ, and this means living in the new reality, not being bound
into the old pre-incarnation reality (exemplified by the Jews).
There is also a theological irony in placing the same words in the mouths
of both Jesus and his attackers: the crowd speaks the truth without realizing
it. Christ does indeed keep silent for Adam’s sake (7.7–8). The end of this
strophe mirrors the close of the previous one, which ends with Romanos’
explanation of Jesus’ silence (6.7–8): ‘But he, so that he might suffer, endures
in silence for a while, standing wordless, so that Adam might dance’ (αὐτὸς δὲ
ἵνα πάθῃ, σιγῶν τέως στέγει, ἄλαλος στήκων, | ἵνα χορεύῃ ὁ Ἀδάμ.).43 Christ’s
silence is calculated to bring about the restoration of humanity: Jesus could
have prevented his death, but he chose silence so that he might die for the
sake of his creation. The Melodist’s explanation is thus echoed by the unwit-
ting crowd. This irony would not have been lost on the congregation, which
played all three roles in the refrain: narrator (Romanos), crowd and Jesus.
Irrespective of which character says the refrain, its theological signifi-
cance in this kontakion, as well as helping to enact the congregation’s par-
ticipation in the new reality, is that it points to the ideas of correction and
perfection. Christ, the second Adam, came into the world to correct the
first Adam’s sins, perfect human existence and overturn human death.
Thus, all Christ’s actions bring redemption and life to the first Adam: the
bound Adam will be free and dance for joy as a result of God’s descent to
earth in Jesus Christ. In moving the congregation through different roles,
from the blind, sinful crowd to the persona of Jesus, the kontakion performs
the redemptive correction and perfection of the Passion.
43 Ignatius, among others, recognized the importance of silence in confessing God as well as
speaking. See Letter to the Ephesians 15.
35
Paradox 35
Although for most of Romanos’ hymns the refrain remains the same
throughout the hymn, in On the Passion of Christ it changes. Initially it is ‘only
Adam dances’ (μόνος χορεύει ὁ Ἀδάμ), but in the second strophe it changes to
‘so that Adam might dance’ and continues as such for the rest of the hymn. This
change might suggest that a select group sang the refrain, perhaps a trained
choir. But I see no reason why the cantor could not have explained the change
before beginning. The change makes more grammatical and semantic sense
and so would not have been difficult for the whole congregation to pick up.44
Paradox
The long speech Romanos gives Jesus, and in which the congregation takes
part, infuriates the crowd (whom Romanos describes as bloodthirsty and
like lions) and Pilate sends him to be whipped. The following strophe is an
extended paradox (14.1–8):
The Redeemer endures scourgings, the Releaser was bound,
stripped and stretched out on the cross.
He who in a pillar of cloud once was speaking with Moses and Aaron,
he who made firm the pillars of the earth, as David said, is bound to a pillar;
he who showed to the people a path in the desert –
for the fiery pillar appeared before them – is held fast to a pillar.
The Rock is on the pillar, and the church is hewn for me
Μάστιγας φέρει ὁ λυτρωτής, δέσμιος ἦν ὁ λύτης,
γυμνωθεὶς καὶ ἐκταθεὶς ἐπὶ στύλου
ὁ ἐν στύλῳ πρὶν νεφέλης Μωσῇ καὶ Ἀαρὼν συλλαλῶν·
ὁ τῆς γῆς τοὺς στύλους στερεώσας, ὡς Δαβὶδ
ἔφη, στύλῳ προσδέδεται·
ὁ δείξας τῷ λαῷ ὁδὸν εἰς ἔρημον –
πύρινος γὰρ πρὸ αὐτῶν ἔφαινεν ὁ στῦλος – στύλῳ προσήχθη·
ἡ πέτρα ἐπὶ στύλου, καὶ λαξεύεταί μοι ἡ ἐκκλησία,
44 The changes in the pronunciation of Greek from the classical period to the sixth century mean
that there would have been little if any difference between the vowels ει and ῃ, so that χορεύῃ
would sound just like χορεύει, but the replacement of μόνος with ἵνα remains a problem. See
Moleas (2004), Palmer (1996), 176. Grosdidier de Matons, while agreeing that a changing
refrain makes it unclear, nevertheless argues for the participation of the whole congregation
in the refrain on the basis of Romanos’ invitations to take part in some of the hymns. See
Grosdidier de Matons (1977), 46. Cf. On Judas XVII.23.7–9 where Romanos calls for listeners
to cry out directly before the refrain.
36
As we have noted, the central mysteries of the Christian faith are paradoxes
(e.g. the virgin birth, the incarnation, the crucifixion, the resurrection).
Like other early Christian writers, Romanos employs paradox repeatedly;
paradoxes and oxymorons are recurrent devices in this and almost every
kontakion. In this passage, Romanos develops an elaborate layered paradox
involving ‘pillar’ or ‘cross’ (stulos). The word is repeated again and again in
different contexts, linking the Redeemer on the cross with the God of the
Old Testament, and finally concluding the paragraph by making a connec-
tion with the Christian church. This strophe illustrates the contradictions
inherent in the crucifixion. Verbal and structural repetition, alliteration and
allusions to well-known biblical stories make this layered paradox particu-
larly effective. Line 1 emphasizes Christ’s role as the saviour of humanity
by naming him ‘Redeemer’ and ‘Releaser’, two words cognate with the verb
for loosing or releasing, while simultaneously connecting the Redeemer
with words of scourging and bondage (mastigas, desmios). These contrasts
emphasize, as does the whole stanza, the miraculous nature of the crucifix-
ion, the extent of God’s sacrifice. Christ, who by definition is associated with
release and redemption, is bound and whipped. Wonder at God’s miracles
and full realization of his sacrifice on the cross are two important themes
which run throughout the corpus of Romanos’ hymns. Lines 3 to 5 in this
paradoxical stanza all define God by referring to different events in the Old
Testament, as we will see shortly. The pillars of the Old Testament which
associated God with strength and power are contrasted with the pillar (i.e.
the cross) which makes God in Christ suffer.
The pillar, and in particular the ‘fiery pillar [which] appeared before
them’, recalls the Exodus. Romanos uses the same word (stulos) as that used
in the Septuagint for the pillars of cloud and fire: ‘The Lord went in front of
them in a pillar (stulō) of cloud by day, to lead them along the way, and in
a pillar (stulō) of fire by night, to give them light, so that they might travel
by day and by night’ (Exodus 13:21). In the Exodus story, God leads and
protects his vulnerable people. Romanos compares this narrative with the
behaviour of the Jews towards God when he is vulnerable: they crucify him;
whereas before God became a pillar for their salvation, now they have made
a pillar for his destruction. Line 4 recalls Psalm 75:3: ‘When the earth tot-
ters, with all its inhabitants, it is I who keep its pillars (stulous) steady.’ God
is the one who protects the foundations of the earth, who can keep the earth
from being destroyed by its inhabitants. God, who has been a pillar for the
Jews in numerous ways, protecting and guiding them, is rewarded by being
bound to a pillar until he dies.
37
Paradox 37
An interesting allusion to a biblical pun finishes this extended paradox

in the reference to the rock as the foundation of the church. This simul-
taneously refers to Jesus and to his disciple Peter. In 1 Corinthians, Paul
says: ‘For they [i.e. the Israelites in the desert] drank from the spiritual
rock that followed them, and the rock was Christ’ (1 Cor. 10:4). Paul’s
imagery is cleverly mixed, connecting the rock from which the Israelites
drank not only with Christ but also with God in the pillars of fire which
followed them at night as they journeyed through the desert (Exodus
13:21). In Matthew’s Gospel Jesus says to Peter: ‘And I tell you, you are
Peter (petros), and on this rock (petra) I will build my church, and the
gates of Hades will not prevail against it’ (Matt. 16:18). Both passages
spring to mind here. Romanos’ substantial point is the strength of the
church and its foundation in Christ, which is the cause of its strength.
Just as death (Hades) did not prevail against Christ who was crucified on
the cross, death will not prevail against the church which is founded on
Christ, the Rock, through his disciple, Peter (rock).
This is the most elaborate paradox in On the Passion of Christ, but
Romanos uses other paradoxical imagery and oxymorons elsewhere in
the kontakion to re-enact in language the incongruity of the crucifixion.
Standing before Pilate, Jesus refuses to speak (7.1):
The Thunderer stands silent, the Word is without a word.

Ἄφωνος ἵστατο ὁ βροντῶν, λόγου ἐκτὸς ὁ Λόγος·
How can the thundering one not thunder? God is all powerful and con-
trols the heavens and all the dramatic weather which emanates from them.
Yet here God stands without making a sound. It is equally incomprehen-
sible that Jesus, who is called the Word (e.g. John 1:1), and who is defined
in terms of his role as the Word of God, should say nothing. Romanos
explains why (7.2–3): ‘for if he had broken into speech, he would not have
been beaten; and if he had won he would not have been crucified nor
saved Adam’ (εἰ γὰρ ἔρρηξε φωνήν, οὐχ ἡττᾶτο | καὶ νικῶν οὐκ ἐσταυροῦτο
καὶ Ἀδὰμ οὐκ ἐσῴζετο·). What seems most natural is changed in the cru-
cifixion. Death means life: Christ’s death on the cross means life for all
humanity. We have seen this sort of natural change expressed already in
the opening of the hymn. Human categories break down in the face of
this miraculous deed of God, and language is left with paradox, which
performs the new creation.45
45 See further in Chapter 3 below.

38
Another paradox in this kontakion reverses the roles of Jesus and

Pilate (6.5):
A condemned man judges the righteous judge …
τὸν δίκαιον κριτὴν [κρίνει κ]ατάκριτος,
Jesus is the condemned man in the Gospel story, since he is the one brought
before Pilate for judgement and condemned to death. But Romanos makes
Pilate the condemned man, doomed to die like all humanity, and particu-
larly damned for his role in Christ’s crucifixion. By contrast, Jesus, whom
Romanos places at the beginning of the line to emphasize his importance,
is the ‘righteous judge’.
Later Romanos emphasizes that Pilate made the wrong choice, through a
paradoxical rhetorical question (16.4–6):
For hearing that he would be Caesar’s enemy, the coward was scared.
Did he wish to be an enemy of the almighty or of Caesar,
by honouring life now rather than the Life?
ἀκούσας γὰρ ὅτι ἔσται Καίσαρος ἐχθρός, ἐπτοήθη ὁ δείλαιος·
τοῦ παντοκράτορος ἢ γὰρ τοῦ Καίσαρος
θέλει εἶναι δυσμενής, τῆς Ζωῆς τὴν ζωὴν νῦν προτιμήσας;
Pilate’s decision to honour Caesar above God is laughable when put in

these terms. Who would willingly choose to be an enemy of God rather
than an enemy of a mortal ruler? Pilate’s choice is a short-sighted one,
focusing on his earthly life ‘now’ rather than on eternal life. Romanos
encourages his listeners to avoid Pilate’s mistake and orient their lives
towards eternal life.
Another brief oxymoron once again emphasizes the reversal of all norms
in the crucifixion, this time using the imagery of taste (22.1):46
They gave the Fount of Sweet Streams vinegar to drink
Ὄξος ἐπότισαν τὴν πηγὴν τῶν γλυκερῶν ναμάτων
By drawing on the sense of taste (and perhaps smell), Romanos makes the con-
trast more bodily and vivid, and therefore more immediate to his audience.
Vivid Description (Ekphrasis)
The vivification achieved through taste imagery in this paradox (and

in dialogic and narrative techniques) is extended to events and objects
through ekphrasis. Ekphrasis or ‘vivid description’ was a way to bring an
46 On Romanos’ use of the senses, see chapter 2 below.
39
Vivid Description ( Ekphrasis) 39
object or scene before the eyes of the listener.47 The fourth-century rheto-
rician Aphthonius defines ekphrasis as ‘a speech which leads one around,
bringing the subject matter vividly before the eyes’ (Ἔκφρασίς ἐστι λόγος
περιηγηματικὸς ὑπ’ ὄψιν ἄγων ἐναργῶς τὸ δηλούμενον).48 ‘Leads one around’
is an appropriate translation for περιηγηματικὸς since the speech should
take the listener around the object being described. If it is an ekphrasis of a
church (for example, Procopius of Caesarea’s ekphrasis on Hagia Sophia),49
then the ekphrasis should describe the church in such a way that the listener
feels as if they are being led around the church itself. It was supposed to do
this so vividly that the person listening to the ekphrasis would actually see
the thing being described in their mind’s eye. Nicolaus the Sophist says: ‘the
former [i.e. ekphrasis] tries to make listeners into spectators’ (ἣ δὲ πειρᾶται
θεατὰς τοὺς κούοντας ἐργάζεσθαι) (68).50
Byzantines did not see ekphrasis simply as a description of a work of art
(as it is still often conceptualized today despite the definitive studies of
scholars such as Ruth Webb), but rather an advanced narrative exercise, used
to describe people, places, times, events, nature and so on.51 So narrative
and ekphrasis are closely connected in Byzantine rhetoric.52 Vivid descrip-
tion is certainly part of the way in which Romanos constructs a coherent
and dramatic narrative. These ekphraseis are not simply digressions from the
narrative, unrelated to the meaning or flow of the story. They are carefully
integrated into the narrative and although they may at first seem to create
a gap, closer inspection proves they often assist the temporal movement of
that narrative.53 In strophe 18, Romanos describes human thirst and Christ’s
quenching of it in an ekphrasis followed by a short speech by Jesus:
The earthly race was destroyed by thirst, consumed by burning heat
as they wandered in the desert, and in waterless land
the wretched [race] has not found a cure for its thirst.
For this reason my Saviour, the fount of good things, gushed forth a stream of life,
47 James and Webb (1991), 4, Macrides and Magdalino (1988), 49.

48 Rabe (1926), 36, line 22. The translation is Ruth Webb’s: Webb (1999b), 11.
49 Procopius, Buildings I.i.23–65.
50 Nicolaus Progymnasmata section 68: Kennedy (2003), 166.
51 Webb (1999b), 11. See also Webb (2009), 61–86. Webb includes a useful table (p. 64) on the
subjects of ekphraseis in the different progymnasmata, and art works appear in only one of
these. Even in cases where the subject matter could be broadly defined as art, as in the Shield
of Achilles, the first-century (AD) rhetorician Theon sees the ekphrasis as a description of the
process of manufacture rather than a description of a work of art. See Theon Progymnasmata
section 119 and Webb (1999b), 11.
52 James and Webb (1991), 6, Webb (1999a), 64.
53 On the relationship between narrative and ekphrasis and how the latter can involve temporal as
well as spatial movement, see Nilsson (2005), 127–8.
40
saying, ‘You were thirsty because of your side.

Drink from my side and do not ever thirst.
This is a twofold stream. It washes those who are dirty and quenches thirst,
Ὤλετο δίψῃ ὁ γηγενής, καύσωνι κατεφλέχθη
ἐν ἐρήμῳ πλανηθείς, ἐν ἀνύδρῳ
καὶ ἰάσασθαι τὴν δίψαν οὐχ εὗρεν ὁ δύστηνος·
διὸ ὁ σωτήρ μου, ἡ πηγὴ τῶν ἀγαθῶν, ζωῆς νάματα ἔβλυσε
βοῶν· ‘Διὰ τῆς σῆς πλευρᾶς ἐδίψησας,
πίε τῆς ἐμῆς πλευρᾶς καὶ οὐ μὴ διψήσεις εἰς τὸν αἰῶνα·
διπλοῦν ταύτης τὸ ῥεῖθρον· λούει καὶ ποτίζει τοὺς ῥυπωθέντας,
ἵνα χορεύῃ ὁ Ἀδάμ.’
The thirst of those in the desert is emphasized by repetition of ‘thirst’ and

words related to water (‘fount’, ‘stream’), and by the juxtaposition of ‘in
the desert’ and ‘in waterless land’. Adam’s side is a metaphor for Eve, who
caused human thirst, and the image of drinking from Christ’s side recalls the
eucharist. Romanos creates a picture of a spiritually and physically thirsty
humanity, which is redeemed and whose thirst is quenched by Christ’s cru-
cifixion. This is an image of correction (Christ corrects the sins of Eve) and
perfection (he stops humanity thirsting).
The motif of thirsting in the desert also calls to mind the water which
burst from a rock to quench the thirst of the Israelites in their journey
through the desert (Exodus 17:1–6): ‘The Lord said to Moses, “… strike
the rock, and water will come out of it, so that the people may drink.” ’
(17:6). Yet this water did not quench human thirst forever, nor did it
restore humanity to everlasting life. It is in the eucharist, which is both
a symbol of and a participation in Christ’s sacrifice on the cross, that
human thirst is quenched.
This reference to the eucharist, which links Romanos’ preaching with
other rites of the church or parts of the liturgy, reminds the congregation
of the most obvious way in which they participate in the life of Christ: by
receiving the sacrament of his body and blood. This reminder is central
to Romanos’ endeavour to make his congregation participate in the new
creation which he believes is present after the incarnation. Participation
does not only take place in the eucharist, but these references may keep
the idea of participation in the minds of listeners. They are also appeals
to the senses, encouraging the congregation to remember the taste of the
bread and wine;54 the ekphrasis thus appeals not only to sight, but also
54 On the senses, see further in Chapter 2 below and Frank (2005), 163–79, Harvey (2006).
41
Vivid Description ( Ekphrasis) 41
to the feeling of thirst, both physical and spiritual. The congregation is

made to picture the Israelites in the desert and not only to imagine but
also to identify with, even feel, their thirst. This Good Friday kontakion
looks forward to Easter Day, the day in which Christ is resurrected anew
in the liturgical year and the eucharistic feast is celebrated. Lay eucha-
ristic communion was infrequent, but Easter was one major feast at
which lay Christians usually received the eucharist.55 Romanos prepares
his congregation to receive the sacraments, making them thirst for the
‘stream of life’.
Romanos also invokes memory of baptism and perhaps foreshadows
approaching Easter baptismal rites. Biblical allusions to water often carry
connotations of baptism, at least as far as many patristic exegetes were
concerned, and Romanos’ allusion is no exception.56 The waters of baptism
save in a way that the water which burst from the rock did not. Romanos
elsewhere makes the comparison between the parting of the Red Sea and
baptism (Exodus 14:26–9; XXXVI.8): baptism saves eternally, whereas the
parting of the Red Sea only saved those particular Israelites from being
killed (or returned to slavery) by the Egyptians.57 Baptism is another rite
which, although it only takes place once in a person’s life, is an impor-
tant participatory moment. Through baptism Christians participate in
the baptism of Christ and, as we will see later (Chapter 3), Romanos sees
this as the point in which humans are re-clothed in the divine garment
which they lost at the Fall and restored to paradise.58 In Jesus’ speech fol-
lowing the ekphrasis, he connects his crucifixion and death both with the
eucharist and with baptism: it is a twofold stream (18.7). It is perhaps a
reference to the blood and water which came forth from Jesus’ side: the
blood is the thirst-quenching eucharistic wine and the water the restora-
tive waters of baptism.
Ekphrasis is itself a way in which Romanos makes his congregation
perform and participate in the story, irrespective of whether eucharistic
imagery is involved. Its vividness is designed to make the listener visual-
ize the situation and react in a particular way.59 As discussed above, many
rhetoricians and commentators have explained these techniques as ways
55 Krueger (2006b), 13.
56 See, for example, Ambrose On the Mysteries 3.1.3 in which he sees the waters in Genesis as a
type for baptismal waters. On Old Testament types for baptism, see Daniélou (1956), 70–113.
On fish and water images and their relation to baptism, see Drewer (1981).
57 See Chapter 3. On this type for baptism more generally, see Daniélou (1956), 86–98.
58 On this type of clothing metaphor in Syriac homiletics and poetry, which probably influenced
Romanos, see Brock (1982a).
59 Webb (1997), 112 and passim.
42
of making eyewitnesses out of listeners.60 By employing these devices

Romanos changes the congregation from passive listeners into active par-
ticipants in the events he vividly describes. They are no longer simply listen-
ing to him tell them about the thirsting Israelites, but they see the Israelites
before them and experience their thirst. Romanos thus encourages his lis-
teners to recognize their thirst, their sinfulness and therefore their need for
God. He makes them thirst for God. But it also enables him to emphasize
that Christ quenches thirst. Unlike the Israelites who will go on thirsting,
his congregation’s thirst will be eternally sated by Christ.
Structure
This ekphrasis also helps to cover a temporal gap in the story, between
Pilate’s decision to crucify Jesus (stanza 17) and the carrying of the cross
and the crucifixion (stanza 21). Far from the ekphrasis causing a halt in
time and thereby making the narrative disjointed, we are carried through a
change of scene and time in the narrative proper by this vivid description
of human thirst.61 The ekphrasis holds the attention of the audience, elab-
orating on an important point through vibrant imagery and at the same
time helping to move the narrative from one scene to the next. This type of
structural device adds to the drama of the musical homily.
The Passion story is interspersed with such stanzas of analysis, ekphrasis or
Old Testament references, which help to set up the story as a drama by assist-
ing the temporal and spatial movement of the narrative. Between the stanzas
on Caiaphas (3–4) and Pilate (6ff.), Romanos analyses Caiaphas’ statement
and links the events to the Old Testament story of Cain and Abel (4–5). Like
the ekphrasis above, this analysis covers a gap in time and a change of scene.
The drama moves from the courtyard of Caiaphas to Pilate’s headquarters in
the time it takes for Romanos to examine Caiaphas and his actions.
Dramatic comparisons or oppositions of two characters are also sup-
ported by structural techniques (2.1–3):
My saviour, you took what was mine, so that I might receive what is yours.
You accepted the suffering, so that I now
might look down on passions.
60 See, for example, Nicolaus the Sophist, section 11, quoted above, and Dionysius of
Halicarnassus De Lysia 7. See also, for example, James and Webb (1991), 4, Webb (1997),
(1999b), esp. 13, Zanker (1981), 297.
61 On ekphrasis as a narrative technique in Konstantinos Manasses, see Nilsson (2005), (2006).
On temporal movement as an element of ekphrasis, see Nilsson (2005), 128.
43
Structure 43
Εἵλου, σωτήρ μου, τὰ ἐμά, ἵν’ ἐγὼ λάβω τὰ σά.

κατεδέξω τὸ παθεῖν, ἵν’ ἐγὼ νῦν
τῶν παθῶν καταφρονήσω·
The first half of each line (and first metrical unit) refers to what Christ has
done, the second to the reason and effect on Romanos (and therefore on
all humanity). The word play, which strengthens the comparison, is diffi-
cult to render in English, but the word for suffering and the word for pas-
sions come from the same root in Greek so that a paradox is created: Christ
accepted suffering to get rid of human passions. This word play is repeated
in several places in this kontakion, including in the acrostic.
Romanos also highlights the comparison through repetition of the fol-
lowing construction: a) a clause in which Christ is the subject, describing
his actions; b) caesura; c) a clause expressing Christ’s purpose in so acting.
This sort of structural repetition, using the metrical caesura to separate the
two phrases, is not uncommon for Romanos.62 Here it accentuates the sig-
nificance of the incarnation and crucifixion for human salvation: that Christ
perfects our human life. The metre is similarly used in On the Annunciation II
(XXXVII.8.1–3). Metre and structure combine to play the role of much of
Romanos’ rhetoric in his hymns: emphasizing theological points.
Similar structural repetition occurs at 8.1, 4–6:
‘Do I now owe you my death,’ my Saviour said …
‘because I once “demanded back” Jairus’ daughter with a single word,
because I “gathered in” the only son of the widow
and with my voice showed to all lifeless Lazarus hastening [from the tomb]’
‘Θάνατον ὤφειλον νῦν ἐγώ’, ἔφησεν ὁ σωτήρ μου …
‘ἀνθ’ ὧν Ἰαείρου τὸ θυγάτριον ποτὲ λόγῳ μόνῳ ἀνέπραξα,
ἀνθ’ ὧν μονογενῆ τῆς χήρας ἤγειρα63
καὶ τὸν Λάζαρον φωνῇ τρέχοντα τὸν ἄπνουν ἔδειξα πᾶσι’
The repetition of lines 4–5 accentuates the miracles Jesus performed, and
suggests a plethora of others unmentioned. The placement of the repeated
‘because’ at the beginning of these lines matches the placement of ‘death’
in the first line, emphasizing the paradox that such miraculous reversals of
death should necessitate Jesus’ death.
62 On the metre of Romanos’ kontakia, see Maas and Trypanis’ metrical appendix: Maas and
Trypanis (1963), 511–38. The metrical scheme for this kontakion is xix, Maas and Trypanis
(1963), 526.
63 This word is ambiguous. It could come from ἐγείρω or ἀγείρω. I have chosen the latter, because
I think Romanos is using debt imagery, following ὤφειλον, but ‘raised’ would certainly be an
appropriate translation in this context, so I do not argue that my reading is the only possible
one. On this use of imagery, see below.
4
Word Play
Contrasts and comparisons of characters are also made through etymological

word plays. In strophe 8 Romanos makes a play on ‘word’ (logos) (8.2–3):
for he did not judge Pilate worthy of a word,
since he considered him irrational.
τὸν Πιλᾶτον
οὐδὲ λόγου γὰρ ἠξίου λογισάμενος ἄλογον-
Romanos contrasts Jesus with Pilate. Jesus is silent in response to Pilate’s

questioning. In the story Pilate speaks, but Jesus considers him ‘wordless’ or
‘reasonless’ (alogos). By contrast, Jesus is the one who ‘reasons’. Alogos has
also come to mean ‘horse’ or ‘animal’ by this period, further strengthening
the notion of Pilate’s irrationality.64
This strophe also plays on images of debt, money and exacting pay-
ment. Jesus asks whether he ‘owes’ death (1), because he ‘demanded back’
or ‘exacted’ Jairus’ daughter (4) and ‘gathered in’ the widow’s son (5).
These miracles are put in terms of debt recoupment and money collec-
tion. In line 7 he says that ‘in pay for these things’ he must suffer and die.
To suggest that raising someone from the dead is equivalent to collect-
ing a debt makes a mockery of the Jewish claim. Romanos’ use of money
imagery thus demonstrates how ridiculous the suggestion is that Jesus
‘owes’ the Jews anything. But it also uses everyday language, monetary
terminology which would have been familiar to all, to appeal to (or even
amuse) his audience, giving them a more accessible route to an under-
standing of the text.
In strophe 21, Romanos makes plays on the word ‘cross’ to reverse roles in
the crucifixion: it is Christ who is crucifying Satan/Death by his death (21.1–3):
Providing victory to the humble, bearing, in the manner of triumph,
the cross on his shoulders, he went out
to be crucified and to crucify the one who severely wounded us.
Νίκην παρέχων τοῖς ταπεινοῖς, δίκην τροπαίου φέρων
ἐπὶ ὤμων τὸν σταυρὸν ἐξῆλθε
σταυρωθῆναι καὶ σταυρῶσαι τὸν ἡμᾶς κατατρώσαντα·
Death’s apparent victory over Jesus is actually defeat. By this word play
Romanos enacts the paradox of the crucifixion. Jesus turns death on its
head and by his crucifixion crucifies death for all humanity.
64 Lampe (1961), 78, A.1.a.

45
Typology and Prophecy 45
These sorts of close connections between words and ideas are made using
alliteration and assonance as well. These devices enable a type of word play
where there is no etymological link between the two words. For instance
(5.1–4):
Thus the priest spoke, but he did not understand it.
For envy did not allow him,
but roused him to murder. For murder follows envy.
And the martyr Abel was envied by Cain, and afterwards murdered.
οὕτω μὲν ἔφη ὁ ἱερεύς, τοῦτο δὲ οὐ συνῆκεν·
οὐ γὰρ εἴασεν αὐτὸν ὁ φθόνος,
ἀλλ’ ἠρέθισε πρὸς φόνον· φθόνῳ φόνος γὰρ ἕπεται·
καὶ μάρτυς ὁ Ἄβελ ὑπὸ Κάϊν φθονηθείς, φονευθεὶς δὲ μετέπειτα·
In this passage Romanos asserts that murder (phonos) and envy (phtho-
nos) are closely associated: murder follows envy. He makes this associ-
ation all the more prominent by alliteration, assonance and repetition,
and the juxtaposition of these similar-sounding words in lines 3 and
4. The reference to the story of Cain and Abel (Genesis 4), a story in
which one brother murders another out of envy, hammers home the
connection (on the typology of which, see further below). Here is a
moral lesson in word play. Romanos provides a negative moral example
in Caiaphas; he speaks the truth but is unable to comprehend it because
of his envy of Jesus. Again, Romanos uses the biblical stories to educate
his listeners about true Christian behaviour: avoid envy as it leads to
murder. As we will see shortly, this could also be read as instructing
listeners to avoid ‘Jewish’ behaviour.
Typology and Prophecy
Towards the end of this kontakion, Romanos presents Old Testament peo-
ple as types for Jesus and Old Testament events prefigure events in the life
of Christ.65 Following earlier theologians, Romanos sees Isaac as a type for
Christ and his resurrection (19.6–7):66
Of whom [i.e. Christ] the patriarch Isaac on the mountain was a type.
He was slaughtered in the ram and brought down living like my saviour.
65 We will look further at typology and prophecy in Chapters 2 and 3. For discussions of
typology in Romanos, see also Reichmuth (1975), Schork (1962).
66 For example, Epistle of Barnabas 7:3.
46
οὗ καὶ τύπος ὁ πατὴρ Ἰσαὰκ ἐγένετο ἐν τῷ ὄρει·

ἐσφάγη ἐν ἀρνίῳ καὶ ζῶν κατηνέχθη ὡς ὁ σωτήρ μου
Romanos explicitly marks this comparison as a type (tupos): Isaac fore-

shadows Christ’s resurrection, since he was taken to be sacrificed and only
replaced by the ram at the last minute (Genesis 22:9–13). He was therefore
sacrificed (in the ram, which is his substitute) and yet returned alive with
his father Abraham; Christ is sacrificed on the cross and then resurrected.
Antitype surpasses type: the ram is substituted for Isaac and so Isaac returns
alive, whereas Christ truly undergoes suffering and death and returns to life.
It was important in Christian tradition, which Romanos certainly follows
here, that Isaac did not suffer, but that he prefigured the one who would
suffer for the sake of all.67 This was in contrast to rabbinic interpretations
of Isaac as the suffering one, whose blood was truly shed and who thereby
demonstrated his willingness to obey God and his father.68
Jonah is also a type for Christ and the resurrection (20.1–6; Jonah
1:17, 2:10):
Another type for Jesus was the prophet
Jonah in the belly of the whale.
He was swallowed but not digested, like the Lord in the tomb.
This man came out from the whale after three [days],
like Christ from the tomb.
This man, having preached to Nineveh, saved it,
but Christ redeemed every land and the inhabited world.
Ἄλλος δὲ τύπος τοῦ Ἰησοῦ γέγονεν ὁ προφήτης
Ἰωνᾶς ἐν κοιλιᾷ τοῦ κήτους·
κατεπόθη, οὐκ ἐπέφθη ὡς ἐν τάφῳ ὁ κύριος·
ἐκεῖνος ἐξῆλθεν ἐκ τοῦ κήτους μετὰ τρεῖς,
ὡς Χριστὸς ἐκ τοῦ μνήματος·
ἐκεῖνος Νινευὶ κηρύξας ἔσωσε,
πᾶσαν δὲ τὴν γῆν Χριστὸς ἐλυτρώσατο καὶ τὴν οἰκουμένην·
Jonah’s descent into the belly of the whale foreshadows Christ’s descent into
the tomb and into hell, and the ‘resurrection’ of Jonah from the belly of the
whale foreshadows the resurrection of Christ. Having been spat out by the
whale, Jonah went on to save the people of Nineveh from destruction. From
the New Testament (Matt. 12:38–41), Jonah had been seen as a type for
Christ.69 Romanos uses this incident as a type for Christ’s salvation of the
67 Kessler (2004), 131–7.
68 Kessler (2004), 136.
69 On patristic interpretations of Jonah, see Duval (1973).
47
Typology and Prophecy 47
whole world, clearly stating that the latter surpasses the former: Jonah only
saved one city (and not eternally) whereas Jesus saves all humanity and
restores them to everlasting life through his death and resurrection.
A less marked example of typology in this hymn is the reference to the
murder of Abel by Cain (5.4–6; Genesis 4:1–8):
And the martyr Abel was envied by Cain, and afterwards was murdered.
Christ also submitted to this.
Being fond of the envious people, he drove them to hatred by showing them love.
καὶ μάρτυς ὁ Ἄβελ ὑπὸ Κάϊν φθονηθείς,
φονευθεὶς δὲ μετέπειτα·
ὃ δὴ καὶ Χριστὸς ὑπομεμένηκε·
βάσκανον λαὸν ποθῶν εἰς ὀργὴν ἐκίνει στοργὴν δεικνύων …
In the Genesis story, Cain kills Abel after God accepts Abel’s sacrifice but not
Cain’s. Cain was envious of Abel’s acceptance by God, and this led him to
kill his brother.70 In keeping with contemporary Christian interpretations of
the story, Romanos sets up this first murder as a type of the most significant
murder: that of Jesus Christ.71 The envy of Cain is a type for the sin of the Jews
who are going to murder Jesus.72 God’s love for the Jews, demonstrated in his
sacrifice on the cross, led them to hate him rather than love him.
Abel is also described as a martyr, placing this Old Testament Jewish
figure in a Christian role.73 The ‘martyr’ Abel, whose sacrifice and death
(the ultimate sacrifice) are acceptable to God, becomes an important type
for Christ’s sacrifice (or ‘martyrdom’) in late antique Christianity.74 In
Romanos, the ‘martyrdom’ of Abel foreshadows the ultimate martyrdom,
the one which established the concept of martyrdom: the crucifixion of
Jesus. Such moves point to the strongly typological mode of thinking that
supports much of Romanos’ imagery and argument.
Likewise, specific Old Testament prophecies are fulfilled in Christ. Such
prophecies do not appear in this hymn, but occur frequently in others. For
instance, in On the Entry into Jerusalem (XVI.10.1–2) Romanos refers to the
70 We have seen the link made between murder and envy through assonance.
71 See Grypeou and Spurling (2013), 118–19.
72 On Abel as a type for Christians and Cain as a type for the Jews, see Byron (2011), 202–4.
73 This image emerged in the New Testament (Matthew 23:35; Hebrews 11:4, 12:24) and was
developed by patristic writers. See Byron (2011), 191–5, Hayward (2009), 110.
74 Byron (2011), 196–8. Irenaeus of Lyon was the first to present Abel’s sacrifice as a eucharistic
type (Adv. Haer. IV.17.5–18.4): Hayward (2009), 114–15. The image of Abel takes on the same
significance in the mosaics of San Vitale, Ravenna: Jensen (2000), 85. On the tradition which
makes Abel a symbol of all the righteous who unfairly suffer, and even presents him as a
vengeful judge, see Byron (2011), 181–90.
48
prophecy by Zechariah that the king would enter Jerusalem triumphantly,

riding a donkey (Zech. 9:9); Christ fulfilled this prophecy, just as he does all
other Old Testament prophecies. Fulfilment of prophecies is part of Christ’s
recapitulation of human life, but also a symbol of the new creation.
Old Testament types and prophecies are fulfilled in Christ. In this hymn
and throughout the extant corpus of kontakia Romanos uses the fulfilment
of prophecy to argue for a changed reality as a result of the incarnation. This
new reality brings with it a radical change in the nature of time.75 Before
the incarnation, history was governed by prophecy; all events looked for-
ward to the coming of the Messiah. Now that the Messiah has come, in
Christ, there is no longer any need for prophecy. All prophecies are fulfilled
and therefore the time of prophecies has ended. No longer are there types
for the coming Messiah, his incarnation, death and resurrection. Instead
of waiting for the coming Messiah and looking for signs which signal his
advent, now Romanos believes humans are called to participate in the new
creation and to recognize that all prophecies are fulfilled.
Anti-Judaism
And yet, as we saw above, ‘humans’ for Romanos does not include the Jews.
Throughout his kontakia, Romanos characterizes the Jews as subhuman;
he presents them as murderers and liars and paints them with images of
bitterness and poison. In Chapter 3 we will look at Romanos’ anti-Judaism
in more detail and contextualize it in more depth; here it suffices to glimpse
the anti-Judaism of On the Passion of Christ.
References to biblical imagery contrast the behaviour of the Jews and
Jesus (13.1–3):
When Jesus spoke they heard these things, bloodthirsty,
the savage people, and like lions
they roared over the seizing of the life of Christ the lamb.
Λέγοντος ταῦτα τοῦ Ἰησοῦ ἤκουσεν αἱμοβόρως,
ὁ ἀνήμερος λαός, καὶ ὡς λέων
ὠρυᾶτο τοῦ ἁρπάσαι τὴν ψυχὴν τοῦ ἀμνοῦ Χριστοῦ·
The image of the lamb carries with it connotations of helplessness, espe-

cially in comparison with lions. Romanos turns the Jewish crowd into a
group of bloodthirsty, roaring lions, who rejoice in killing a helpless lamb.
The characterization of Jews as murderers was a common one in Christian
75 See MacCormack (1982), 287–309.

49
Anti-Judaism 49
polemics against the Jews from the Gospels onwards and Romanos taps
into this tradition. Ephrem the Syrian, for example, creates an image of the
Jews from all time up to the present as killers, using the death of Jesus as the
ultimate evidence of their murderous nature.76
Romanos’ use of animal imagery reveals Christ as God, while demon-
strating that the Jews do not recognize him. The depiction of Christ as the
slaughtered lamb recalls John 1:29, and the lamb in Revelation (5:6), which
is also identified with Christ’s sacrifice on the cross: ‘Then I saw between the
throne and the four living creatures and among the elders a Lamb standing
as if it had been slaughtered …’. The Jews are ignorant of the truth and sub-
human in their actions.
Romanos figures Jewish rejection of Jesus through the image of taste
(9.1–2):
And when the crowd heard the honey-flowing words,
as though filled with bitterness they replied
Ὅτε δὲ ἤκουσεν ὁ λαὸς τῶν μελιρρύτων λόγων,
ὡς πικρίας ἐμπλησθεὶς ἀπεκρίθη·
Romanos often makes such appeals to the senses, sometimes creating an

ekphrastic passage for different senses than sight. Here it is as though the sweet-
ness of Jesus has caused the Jews to be filled with bitterness (just as his love for
them only engendered hatred); it is evidence that they have turned away from
God and refuse to be drawn into his recreation of the world. We can see similar
uses of the senses in earlier anti-Judaic literature and notably in Ephrem, who
contrasts the foul stench of the Jews with the sweet scent of Christ.77 Romanos
uses simple physical contrasts like bitter and sweet to perpetuate the split
between Judaism and Christianity, making them into direct opposites: bitter
Judaism becomes completely incompatible with Christ’s sweet paradise.
As suggested above, this depiction of the Jews illustrates Romanos’ belief
that they are excluded from the new creation. They turned their back on the
Messiah who came to restore them to proper communion with God; they cru-
cified him. In stanza 17 Romanos compares the Jews with his congregation:
Hurling the blame at them, [Pilate] killed Christ through them,
because he found them conducive, the ones who said,
that ‘His blood will be on them and their children.’
76 See Shepardson (2008), 56. See further in Chapter 3 below.

77 See Harvey (1998), 109–28, Shepardson (2008), 49, 53. On the use of scent more broadly in
late antiquity, see Harvey (2006). For a specific discussion of the use of scent in Syriac homilies
on the repentant harlot, including Romanos’ kontakion On the Sinful Woman, see Harvey
(2002), 69–89. Also see further below (Chapter 2).
50
On the sons not [yet] begotten,78 the fathers have prepared a cloak of curse,79
they added blow to blow against their offspring,
amassing liability for wrongs for their race forever.
But we, receiving the blood of our Saviour, have found redemption,
Ῥίψας τὸ ἔγκλημα ἐπ’ αὐτοὺς κτείνει Χριστὸν δι’ αὐτῶν,
ὑπουργοὺς αὐτοὺς εὑρὼν τοὺς εἰπόντας·
<ὡς> ‘τὸ αἷμα αὐτοῦ ἔσται ἑπ’ αὐτοὺς σὺν τοῖς τέκνοισιν’.80
υἱοῖς μὴ τεχθεῖσιν οἱ πατέρες τῆς ἀρᾶς
τὸν χιτῶνα ηὐτρέπισαν·
τοῖς γόνοις τῇ πληγῇ πληγὴν προσέθηκαν,
δίκην ἕλκοντες κακῶν εἰς τὰς γενεὰς αὐτῶν εἰς αἰῶνας·
ἡμεῖς δὲ τοῦ σωτῆρος τὸ αἷμα λαβόντες εὕρομεν λύτρον,
Romanos contrasts the blood that curses and the blood that redeems.81 The
Jews have Jesus’ blood on their hands, and have allowed this blood curse
to pass on to their children as well (eis tas geneas), whereas Christians
(‘we’), or particularly Romanos’ congregation, find redemption by receiv-
ing Christ’s blood at the eucharist. The Jews forced Jesus to die, whereas
Christians are the recipients of Christ’s outpouring of his own life on
the cross.
Through the imagery of eternity and generation, Romanos argues that
the Jews have rejected their own inheritance, which is now received by
Christians.82 He describes the sin or ‘curse’ of the Jews as ‘on their race’
or ‘on their generations’ ‘forever’. This recalls the passage in Luke 1:50
and 55: ‘his mercy is on those who fear him for generations and genera-
tions (eis geneas kai geneas) … as he said to our forefathers, Abraham and
his seed for ever’. This song of Mary specifically mentions Abraham and
the Jewish heritage of Christianity. By alluding to this biblical passage,
Romanos argues that the Jews have stopped fearing God and have been
denied their inheritance: God’s mercy. In fact, they seem to have openly
rejected it, and have thereby brought upon themselves and their offspring
an everlasting curse.
78 The negative particle (μὴ) seems to imply that they may not be able to have sons. I have
followed Grosdidier de Matons’s ‘encore à naître’ here. See Grosdidier de Matons (1967), 225.
79 On the curse, cf. Matthew 27:25, Psalm 109:17–18.
80 I have followed the SC edition in the insertion of <ὡς>.
81 Again, Ephrem does similarly, see Shepardson (2008), 34–5.
82 This is called ‘supersessionism’ and was the common belief amongst early Christian
theologians. Athanasius, for example, argued that the Christian ‘passover’ (Easter) should have
supplanted the Jewish one. See Brakke (2001), 454.
51
Final Strophe 51
There is no room in Romanos for continued Jewish identity in para-

dise: God’s promises to the Jews are instead confirmed in the Christian com-
munity alone. While Romanos’ hymns nowhere advocate violence towards
the Jews, and his emphasis is on the new creation which is in principle availa-
ble to all humanity, his theological scheme and imagery sit all too easily with
contemporary violence towards Jews. Contemporary chroniclers speak in
similar terms of the unhuman nature of the Jews and their blind rejection of
Jesus, and record contemporary efforts to convert Jews and constrain their
worship. Such actions fit with a theological view that sees no continuing role
for the Jews in the history of salvation after the coming of Christ.83
Final Strophe
Many of Romanos’ hymns end with a prayer and others with an exhortation
to the congregation.84 Both have the effect of relating the events described
in the hymn strongly to the members of the congregation (and to readers).
They either ask God for forgiveness or assistance, or call on the congrega-
tion to behave in a particular way. In On the Passion of Christ, it is the latter
(23):
Hymn him, O earthly race. Praise the one who suffered
and died for your sake. Receive him whom a short time ago
you saw living, into your soul.
For Christ is about to rise up from the tombs
and make you new, humanity.
So make ready a pure soul,
in order that, by dwelling in it, your King might make it his Heaven.
In a short time he will come and will fill with joy those in pain,
so that Adam may dance.
Ὕμνησον τοῦτον, ὦ γηγενῆ, αἴνεσον τὸν παθόντα
καὶ θανόντα διὰ σέ, ὃν καὶ ζῶντα
μετ’ ὀλίγον θεωρήσας τῆς ψυχῆς ἔνδον εἴσδεξαι·
τῶν τάφων γὰρ μέλλει ἐξανίστασθαι Χριστὸς
καὶ καινίζειν σε, ἄνθρωπε·
ψυχὴν οὖν καθαρὰν αὐτῷ εὐτρέπισον,
ἵνα ταύτην οὐρανὸν κατοικῶν ποιήσῃ ὁ βασιλεύς σου·
μικρὸν ὅσον καὶ ἥξει καὶ χαρᾶς ἐμπλήσει τοὺς λυπηθέντας,
83 The anti-Judaic rhetoric of Romanos’ kontakia is treated in more detail in Chapter 3 below.

84 On final prayers in Romanos, see Barkhuizen (1989), (1991a).
52
Romanos concludes his hymn on Christ’s Passion in praise and exhortation.

He calls on the world to praise God for the miracle of the crucifixion and
exhorts his congregation to be ready for the coming of Christ: to purify
themselves and prepare for Christ to dwell within them. This eschatolog-
ical language is a reflection of Romanos’ temporal and liturgical theol-
ogy: Romanos’ congregation relives the life of Christ in the liturgical cycle,
made all the more vivid and real by the kontakia. This kontakion was sung
on Good Friday, the day when Christ died. In this final strophe Romanos
reminds listeners that they have witnessed this death. Only a day or so ear-
lier they were witnesses of the living Christ (‘whom a short time ago you
saw living’, lines 2–3), when they attended holy week services and perhaps
heard another of Romanos’ kontakia – On Judas perhaps, or On Peter’s
Denial.85 And, as Easter fast approaches, Romanos tells his listeners that
they will soon see him resurrected (‘Christ is about to rise’, line 4; ‘in a short
time he will come’, line 7).
This final strophe is also somewhat self-referential. Romanos calls
for a hymn to be sung to the crucified one having just finished singing
such a hymn. The reason for this is that praise of God and participa-
tion in his new creation is not something which finishes with Romanos’
kontakion, nor is it something which applies only to his congregation.
Since the Byzantines believed that their liturgy was an imitation of that
taking place in heaven and was partaking in worship in all time and
space,86 Romanos’ call for a hymn to be sung by all the earthly race
applies to all Christian worship, not just Good Friday in a particular
year in sixth-century Constantinople. The change in the nature of time
is evident in this final stanza as well. In lines 2–3, the congregation (and
all humanity) is associated with the disciples who saw Christ alive after
his crucifixion and resurrection. The events of Christ’s life are not dis-
tant and removed, but ever-present; the disciples of the sixth century are
not completely distinct from the disciples of the first century. Romanos’
congregation is part of the Gospel account and the first disciples are
part of sixth-century Constantinople.
The contrast between the opening strophe and the final one could not
be greater. Romanos opened his hymn with the dramatic revulsion of
the natural world at the crucifixion and ends with a joyous hope for the
85 Maisano proposes that both these kontakia were written for Maundy Thursday: Maisano
(2002), 100. There are several other kontakia likely composed for holy week. For example, On
the Sinful Woman, and perhaps On the Ten Virgins I and II. See Maisano (2002), 100.
86 See, for example, Pseudo-Dionysius The Ecclesiastical Hierarchy II.ii.4. See also the discussion
in Chapter 4 below.
53
Conclusions 53
eschaton, looking forward to the resurrection of Christ, which is relived

in the liturgy about to take place on Easter Day, and ultimately to the
general resurrection.
Conclusions
The foregoing analysis has served as an introduction to Romanos’ poetry.

He adeptly employed a wide range of rhetorical figures and his kontakia are
indebted for their imagery and rhetoric especially to biblical narratives and
contemporary homiletics and liturgical poetry. The kontakion is carefully
constructed, using a variety of devices, such as dialogue and characteriza-
tion, ekphrasis, paradox, and various narrative and structural techniques.
These literary devices are designed to attract the audience’s attention and to
make the poetry vivid and engaging.
Throughout the investigation of Romanos’ use of rhetoric in his kon-
takia, we have seen that his literary devices are intimately connected
with his theology. Poetic devices support, communicate and embody
Romanos’ theology. Many, particularly metaphor, typology, structural
devices and narrative apostrophe, help to emphasize Christ’s correction
of Adam’s sin (see Chapter 2). Others, including paradox, typology and
prophecy, and characterization, make Romanos’ congregation aware of
a fundamental newness in the world around them. This is the subject of
Chapter 3: new creation. Other devices, such as ekphrasis, characteriza-
tion, use of the refrain and dialogue, are designed to make the congrega-
tion participate in this new creation and anticipate the eschaton. This is
the subject of Chapter 4. All these themes are to a greater or lesser degree
evident in the kontakion analysed in this chapter. In the following chap-
ters we will investigate these theological ideas in detail, examining how
Romanos uses the rhetorical devices we have seen in this chapter to argue
for his theological agenda.
54
2 The Second Adam: A Typology of Salvation
For since death came through a human being,

the resurrection of the dead has also come through a human being;
for as all die in Adam, so all will be made alive in Christ.
1 Cor. 15:21–2
The restoration of Adam’s fallen race by Christ’s incarnation, death and

resurrection is central to the theology expressed in Romanos’ kontakia.
First present in the writings of the apostle Paul,1 famously expounded
by Irenaeus of Lyons, and foundational for thinkers such as Athanasius,
Ephrem the Syrian and the Cappadocians, this is the concept of recapitu-
lation: that God became human to perfect human existence, to right the
wrongs Adam and his race had committed and to restore humanity to its
rightful and eternal relationship with God.2 Romanos likewise believes
that by his life on earth, and particularly by his sacrifice on the cross,
Jesus corrected the sins of humanity and restored humans to their proper
relationship with God.
This chapter focuses on the correction of sins and the perfection of
humanity which God achieves by becoming, in Jesus Christ, the sec-
ond Adam. Romanos uses three main rhetorical techniques to explore
these ideas of correcting human wrongs and perfecting the human
race: typology, comparison and metaphor. Types for Christ, Mary and
the cross show Christ as the second Adam, Mary as the second Eve and
the cross as the second Tree (of Life or Knowledge), all demonstrat-
ing that by the life and death of Jesus Christ God restores humans to
life. Comparisons show the counter-action which takes place in God’s
assumption of human form: the wrong actions of Adam are countered
by the right actions of Christ. The rhetorical form of metaphor embod-
ies the form of this exchange and its miraculous results; different met-
aphors explore various aspects of the correction of sin and renewal of
humanity.
On which, see Hooker (1990).

1
Adam represents all fallen humanity, so his redemption means the redemption of all
2
54 humanity: Brümmer (2005), 67.
5
Correction and Perfection in Earlier Theology 55
Correction and Perfection in Earlier Theology
The apostle Paul sets up a comparison between Adam and Christ: Adam
brought about death for humanity, whereas Christ provided eternal life (1 Cor.
15:22). This comparison continues throughout 1 Corinthians 15: the first Adam
became a living spirit, but the second became a life-giving spirit (1 Cor. 15:45);
the first man was from earth and made of dust, whereas the second man was
from heaven (1 Cor. 15:47).3 Likewise, in Romans (5:12–21), Paul compares
and contrasts Adam and Christ.4 The contrast is between sin and grace: sin
(brought into the world by Adam) brings death, whereas grace (brought into
the world by Christ) brings eternal life (5:21).5 The wrongful actions of Adam
are corrected by the right actions of Christ; the gift which Christ brings – divine
grace – undoes Adam’s sin (5:15). The righteousness of Christ makes up for
Adam’s trespass, which condemned all humanity (5:18). The result is that death
has been put to death: by uniting himself to humanity, Christ brings immor-
tality for humankind (Romans 6:5, 9–11). This is the perfection of humanity
and its restoration to immortality. We will see that Romanos sets up similar
contrasts between Adam and Christ, and between mortality and immortality,
to emphasize and explain what God has done for humanity.
Irenaeus of Lyons employs and expands this Pauline idea in his Against
Heresies.6 He argues that human death and sinfulness were brought about
by the initial sin of Adam and Eve, who disobeyed the commands of God.
Human disobedience is corrected by Christ’s obedience (5.21.2).7 This con-
cept of correction will be particularly important for Romanos. Christ is
the second Adam who corrects the disobedience of the first Adam (5.16.2;
3.9.1).8 Just as Christ’s obedience counters the disobedience of Adam, the
tree in Eden which caused the downfall of humanity is redeemed by the tree
of the cross, which restores humanity to paradise.9 In a similar way, Irenaeus
argues that Mary redeems Eve, that Mary’s obedience to the commands of
God corrects the disobedience of Eve in the garden (5.19.1; 3.22.4).10 This
correction enables Christ to impart perfection to humanity (4.20.4):11 God
became human that humans might become God.
3 See also Heil (2005), 240.

4 Byrne (1996), 173.
5 Fantino (1998), 419.
6 The text used is Roberts (1979).
7 Steenberg (2008), 160.
8 Steenberg (2009), 46.
9 We will see this image in Romanos too.
10 Harrison (2008), 79.
11 Fantino (1998), 418.
56
These concepts became pervasive in orthodox theology and important

for closer contemporaries to Romanos such as Athanasius, Ephrem the
Syrian, Gregory of Nyssa and Gregory Nazianzus. Key ideas from thinkers
like these were also significant for Romanos, demonstrating his connection
to the theological traditions of the church. The Pauline–Irenaean tradition
is clear in Athanasius:
For since Adam, the first man, turned away, and through sin death came into the
world, because of this it was fitting for the second Adam not to turn away.
Ἐπειδὴ γὰρ ὁ πρῶτος ἄνθρωπος Ἀδὰμ ἐτράπη, καὶ διὰ τῆς ἁμαρτίας ὁ θάνατος
εἰσῆλθεν εἰς τὸν κόσμον, διὰ τοῦτο τὸν δεύτερον Ἀδὰμ ἔπρεπεν ἄτρεπτον εἶναι·12
Athanasius focuses on human mutability and divine steadfastness: Christ’s

unchanging obedience corrects Adam’s changeable disobedience. While
Adam turned away from God and disobeyed his command, Christ was
obedient to God’s will when he entered the world as a human to eradi-
cate sin and death and thus he corrected the original flaw.13 Correction,
then, for Athanasius, is part of a wider argument about Christ’s change-
lessness and immortality over and against general human mortality. In his
On the Incarnation of the Word, Athanasius emphasizes that humans were
intended by God to remain uncorrupted, but that Adam’s sin led the race
into corruption and death (4).14 In spite of this transgression against God’s
commands, God could not allow humanity, which was made in his image,
to remain in a fallen state (13–14). To counter this fall, and because of his
love for his creation, God made the great exchange: he became truly human
in the person of Jesus Christ in order to destroy death and restore human-
ity to eternal life (8–10). The incarnation was needed because death was
woven into the very fabric of human existence (44); Christ had to become
properly human, assuming a body which was woven with life rather than
death, in order to restore humanity to incorruption (44).15 Unlike the first
Adam, the second Adam had complete control over his body’s passions and
thereby divinized humanity.16 Thus, Athanasius argues, in his incarnation,
death and resurrection, Christ not only participated in our humanity, but
12 Three Orations against the Arians, PG 26.117.

13 The description of Christ as the second Adam is also found in Cyril of Alexandria, among
many others. On Adam–Christ typology in Cyril of Alexandria, see Wilken (1966).
14 Athanasius argued that corruption was always possible, but that by contemplating God and
God alone, like a true ascetic, Adam and Eve could remain in their perfect state. It was when
they turned away from God and towards contemplation of the flesh that they fell into sin. See
Brakke (1995), 146–8.
15 See Brakke (1995), 149–54.
16 Brakke (1995), 150.
57
Correction and Perfection in Earlier Theology 57
united all humanity in himself, perfecting it and making it what God had
intended. The restoration of humanity in Christ means that Christ became
human so that humans might become God (54).
Articulating this ‘christology of transformation’ became vital for both
Gregory of Nyssa and Gregory Nazianzus in the late fourth century, as
they argued against the christological formulations of Apollinarius.17 For
Gregory of Nyssa, Apollinarius’ Christ was too unlike humanity to have
any impact on human salvation.18 Gregory argued that it was Christ’s true
humanity, complete with human will and participating in human suffering,
that enabled human divinization.19 Once again, obedience is the key: the
obedience of the second Adam even to death heals the wound of the first
Adam’s disobedience and destroys death forever.20 And it is through par-
ticipating in Christ, in his perfect human virtue, that all humanity is trans-
formed from corruption to incorruption.21
Likewise, in his Theological Orations, Gregory Nazianzus argues that
the union of divine and human natures in Christ at the incarnation ena-
bles human divination (Theol. Or. 3. xix). Christ is the second Adam
who takes on human sin and disobedience for the sake of their salva-
tion (Theol. Or. 4. i, v–vi). For Gregory, the great contrasts inherent
in Jesus’ divine mortality emphasize the miraculous nature of God’s
actions: Jesus is sold cheaply but redeems the whole world at great price
to himself; Jesus weeps but by his death causes human tears to cease, and
so on (Theol. Or. 3. xx).
Christ’s actions divinize Adam, restoring him to his former state. In the
Syriac tradition particularly, this is figured by clothing: the second Adam
re-clothes the first in the ‘robe of glory’ which he lost when he sinned.22 This
metaphor also became important for Romanos, as we will see. For Ephrem
the Syrian, this re-clothing comes through Mary: ‘Through Mary Adam
had another robe’ (HPar IV.5).23 Just as we saw in Irenaeus, Mary becomes
the second Eve; she is the perfection and therefore the redemption of wom-
ankind.24 Ephrem contrasts the first and second Eve, characterizing Mary
17 For this terminology, see Daley (2002b), 479. See also Daley (2002a), 501–3.
18 Daley (2002b), 478.
19 In his Antirrheticus: GNO 3.1:151.14–20. On the Logos taking on human will, see GNO
3.1:181.14–22.
20 GNO 3.1:160.27–9; 161.1–5. See also Daley (2002b), 482.
21 GNO 3.1:223.2–10. On Gregory of Nyssa’s understanding of this participation, see Harrison
(1992), 88–131.
22 Murray (1971), 376. See also Brock (1982a), 11–38. And see further below.
23 Translation taken from Brock (1990), 99.
24 Harrison (2008), 79–81.
58
as light and sight and Eve as darkness and blindness (HEccl 37), and asso-
ciating shame with Eve and glory with Mary (HNat 17.4). The redemption
of humanity comes through Mary, whereas death came through Eve (HVirg
23.9).25 Childbirth is redeemed: Eve gave birth in pain, whereas for Mary
it was painless (HVirg XXIV.11).26 The recapitulation of human life thus
began in utero (HNat 4.160–1):27
While His body in the womb was being formed,
His power was constructing all the members.
While the fetus of the Son was being formed in the womb,
He Himself was forming babes in the womb.28
In these thinkers before Romanos, who all helped to construct the theo-
logical koinê of the sixth century, often in the context of theological and
political controversy, we see the common themes of correction through
obedience, and perfection of humanity. Christ corrects Adam’s wrong-
doing by being obedient to God; Christ is human in the way in which
God intended. This analogy between Christ and Adam also extends to an
Eve–Mary relationship.
Correction and Perfection in Romanos
These themes are also evident in the kontakia of Romanos. In the kontakion
On Jacob and Esau, Romanos contrasts the obedience of Christ with Adam’s
faithlessness and disobedience (XLII.1.1–10):
The one who through obedience saved the human race,
having trampled on the serpent and illumined the cosmos,
and who was born from the virgin without seed,
the one who delivered the whole creation from its curse,
who destroyed the transgressing angels
and who raised up the fallen Adam by the hand,
let us hymn him, let us praise him.
Let us know what the Fall did to us
in the disobedience of transgression,
as the book of creation tells
of the faithlessness of the first-formed man.
25 For Mary as the new Eve and contrasts between the two women, see, for example, HNat 17 and
HEccl 37.
26 Murray (1971), 378–9.
27 Murray (1971), 375.
28 Translation taken from McVey (1989), 101.
59
Correction and Perfection in Romanos 59
Τὸν διὰ τῆς ὑπακοῆς σώσαντα γένος ἀνθρώπων,

πατήσαντα τὸν ὄφιν καὶ φωτίσαντα τὸν κόσμον
καὶ ἐκ τῆς παρθένου τεχθέντα ἀγεωργήτως,
τὸν τῆς κατάρας ἀπαλλάξαντα κτίσιν ἅπασαν,
τὸν τοὺς παραβάντας ῥήξαντα ἀγγέλους
καὶ παραπεσόντα χειρὶ ἐγείραντα Ἀδὰμ
ὑμνήσωμεν, δοξάσωμεν·
γνῶμεν τί ἔδρασεν ἡμῖν τὸ πτῶμα
τῆς παραβάσεως ἐν τῇ παρακοῇ,
καθὼς καὶ ἡ βίβλος29 τῆς κτίσεως λέγει
τοῦ πρωτοπλάστου τὴν ἀθεσίαν·
Just as we saw in earlier theologians, Romanos sets up a comparison

between Christ and Adam. This strophe is a particularly nicely balanced
comparison.30 The first five lines of the strophe are about Christ, his
obedience and what it achieved. The last four lines are about Adam’s dis-
obedience. In between these two sections is a direct reference to Adam
and the result of Christ’s obedience for Adam: it allows Christ ‘to raise
up the fallen Adam’. Romanos finishes off this middle line with a per-
formative call for the congregation (and humans generally) to praise
God who made this happen. Romanos is enacting this hymning as he
sings. This contrast between the obedience of Christ, through which
humanity is saved, and the disobedience of Adam, through which death
was brought upon humanity, emphasizes Christ’s correction of Adam’s
sin. We will see later that Romanos also uses Mary as a second Eve in a
similar way.
The central image for Christ’s obedience is his suffering on the cross
(e.g. On the Resurrection V (XXVIII.1.7–8)):
You are, one and the same, the one who received suffering according to [God’s]
salvation plan
in order that you might grant freedom from suffering to all.
εἷς ὁ αὐτὸς κατεδέξω τὸ πάθος οἰκονομίᾳ,
ἵνα τῶν παθῶν δώσῃς ⟨ἅπασιν⟩ ἐλευθερίαν
But the divine obedience which corrects human sin is also figured through
a complex of other images. In On the Entry into Jerusalem, Jesus voluntarily
becomes poor because of his love for humans (XVI.12); in another hymn,
Romanos talks about Jesus fasting to give humans eternal life (LI.1). As well
29 Romanos uses biblos as the word for ‘book’ to make a play on ‘Bible’.
30 See below for more structural comparisons.
60
as being examples of how to live, such passages highlight how far Christ
went to correct the misdeeds of humankind.31
This correction removes the bondage under which humanity suffered
until the advent of Christ. In On the Entry into Jerusalem, Romanos refers
to the freedom which Christ brings (XVI.11.6–7):
I am being sold on your behalf, and [thereby] I will free you.
I am being crucified because of you, and [therefore] you will not die.
πωλοῦμαι ὑπὲρ σοῦ καὶ ἐλευθερῶ σε·
σταυροῦμαι διὰ σέ, καὶ σὺ οὐ νεκροῦσαι·
Like earlier theologians, Romanos emphasizes that humanity was made

captive by sin and death. Christ became human to suffer this captivity
(Romanos depicts him being sold like a slave). The paradox is that Christ’s
bondage releases humankind from slavery. The liberty of Christ unties
Adam’s chains.
The freedom which Christ brings is specifically freedom from corrup-
tion. In On the Resurrection III, Adam says to Hades (XXVI.10.3–4):
For I have now been bought by his precious blood.
The one who is without corruption has set me free from corruption.
αἵματι γὰρ τιμίῳ νῦν ἐγὼ ἠγοράσθην·
φθορᾶς ἀπήλλαξέ με ὁ ἄνευ φθορᾶς.
In fact, this is a return to the proper state. In On the Adoration of the Cross,
the angel who guards the gate of Eden speaks of the ‘restoration of Adam’
(τὴν ἀνάκλησιν τὴν τοῦ Ἀδὰμ) (XXIII.13.9). Romanos reworks a traditional
theme to explore this concept of restoration, through a dialogue at the gates
of paradise.32 The good thief arrives at the gates and asks to be admitted,
explaining to the guarding angel the world-changing event which makes
this possible: the crucifixion. The angel recognizes that this means Adam
has been restored to eternal life in paradise.
This means Adam’s restoration to immortality, to perfection (VI.3.3–7):
This one, whom you feared when you were deceived,
became like you for your sake.
He came down to the earth in order that he might take you up.
He became mortal in order that you might be divine
31 For how exemplars like this relate to participation, see Chapter 4 below.

32 There is a Syriac tradition of this debate between the angel at the gate of Eden and the thief
which Romanos may be drawing on. Cf. Brock (2002). On debate literature in the Syriac
tradition and its naissance, see Brock (1991), (2001).
61
Correction and Perfection in Romanos 61
and might put on the foremost dignity.

Wishing to open Eden again he lived in Nazareth.
οὗτος ὃν ἐφοβήθης, ὅτε ἐξηπατήθης, διὰ σὲ ὡμοιώθη σοι·
καὶ ἐνδύσῃ τὴν πρώτην εὐπρέπειαν·
θέλων ἀνοῖξαι πάλιν τὴν Ἐδὲμ ᾤκησε τὴν Ναζαρέτ·
This, we can see straight away, is the exchange formula employed by

Irenaeus, Athanasius and Gregory (and many other theologians). God’s
incarnation enables human divinization.33 As a result of Adam’s sin humans
experienced death, but because of God’s descent to earth in Jesus Christ,
Romanos argues that humans are brought into the life of God.
In order to do this Christ takes on human lowliness and suffers, like
humanity has since the Fall. In On the Baptism of Christ, God says to Adam
(V.2.4–7):
Where are you, Adam? Do not hide from me. I wish to see you.
Even if you are naked, even if you are a beggar, do not be ashamed,
for I have become like you.
Although you wished it, you did not become god,
but now I have of my own will become flesh.
Ποῦ εἶ, Ἀδάμ; ἀπάρτι μὴ κρύπτου με· θέλω θεωρεῖν σε·
κἂν γυμνὸς εἶ, κἂν πτωχὸς εἶ, μὴ αἰσχυνθῇς·
σοὶ γὰρ ὡμοιώθην·
αὐτὸς ἐπιθυμῶν θεὸς οὐκ ἐγένου·
ἀλλ’ ἐγὼ νῦν βουληθεὶς σὰρξ ἐγενόμην·
Adam was not able to make himself into God, although he tried (by taking
the knowledge-giving fruit). This sin took him away from God and away
from the immortality intended for him. Nothing Adam could do would
restore him to his perfect state. But God cared for his creation and wished
to redeem it; and so God became human. The unification of mortal and
immortal in the person of Christ unites humans with immortality.
This passage also draws attention to the goodness and love of God and
his desire to bring humans back into relationship with him. Romanos joins
together the stories of the garden of Eden and the incarnation in this one
passage in a summation of all human history. The incarnation thus brings
about a return to the garden, to paradise, and therefore a restoration of the
proper relationship between humans and God.
33 Cf. also, for example, XX.2.

62
In his concept of God’s correction and perfection of humanity through

the second Adam, Romanos draws on existing theological and homiletic
traditions as he seeks to preach faithfully to his congregation in matters
which pertain to their salvation. I now investigate three different rhetorical
devices – typology, comparison and metaphor – which Romanos uses to talk
about this restoration of humanity. These are by no means the only devices
Romanos uses, but I believe they are the most significant. In their differ-
ent ways, they each mirror the idea of correction and perfection closely,
making them appropriate vehicles for Romanos’ theological teachings.
Typology
Before we investigate Romanos’ use of typology in detail, I present a short

overview of the use of typology in the Greek and Syriac homiletic and
poetic traditions to situate Romanos’ distinctive poetry within a tradition.
Ephrem the Syrian used typology in a similar way to Romanos.34 According
to Ephrem, typology is one of the central ways in which God is made known
to humanity.35 God reveals himself through biblical types and in symbols in
the natural world (Faith 32:9):
Lord, You bent down and put on humanity’s types
so that humanity might grow through your self-abasement.36
Ephrem makes typology part of the correction of humanity. By lowering

himself to assume an understandable form, both in the incarnation and
in types and symbols, God enables humanity to ‘grow’ back into their pre-
Fall state. Events from the Old Testament foreshadow events in the life of
Christ and are surpassed by them, showing the fulfilment of time and his-
tory in Jesus Christ, particularly at the point of the incarnation.37 Ephrem’s
hymns on the Nativity are full of Old Testament types for the incarnation
and virgin birth. In the first hymn of this group the types greatly outnum-
ber the antitype. There is no simple one-to-one correlation between an Old
Testament event and a New Testament event. Within a few lines, in the
first strophe, numerous prophecies and statements are said to be fulfilled in
34 On Ephrem’s use of typology and symbolism, see Brock (1992), Murray (2006).
35 Brock identifies three main ways in which God reveals himself to humans according to
Ephrem, one of which is in types and symbols. The others are through metaphors, and in the
incarnation: Brock (1992), 40–3.
36 Translation taken from Brock (1992), 54. On the ‘recapitulative force’ of typology, with
reference to Ephrem, see Young (1994), 42–5.
37 Brock (1992), 57. See also Buchan (2007), 151.
63
Typology 63
Christ: prophecies of David, Micah, Balaam and Zachary (Nat. 1). Jacob’s

blessing and Ruth’s vow are fulfilled, Solomon’s proverb finally makes sense,
and Eve (and all womankind) is saved. The story of the flowering rod of
Aaron is fulfilled in the virgin who gives birth. This hymn overflows with
types, pointing to the inability of one single Old Testament event to fore-
shadow the incarnation. The whole of time has been leading up to this
point. And, in fact, everything converges at this point, the point at which it
is fulfilled. We could go further and suggest that the whole of history con-
verges in this hymn which makes the incarnation present.
One Greek homilist whose use of typology parallels that of Ephrem
is Proclus of Constantinople. Typologies for the incarnation abound in
Proclus’ homilies 1–5. The first of these homilies is full of types for the
virgin birth.38 The Virgin is a second burning bush (‘the living bush of
human nature, which the fire of a divine birth-pang did not consume’)
(lines 16–17),39 and even a second paradise (‘the spiritual paradise of the
second Adam’) (14),40 but Proclus also describes her using an allegorical
metaphor: ‘the awesome loom of the divine economy upon which the robe
of union was ineffably woven’ (21–2).41 All of these images and many more
appear within a few lines in Proclus’ homily. As in Ephrem’s hymn, the pro-
liferation of images here serves to illustrate at once how many past events
the incarnation fulfils and also to express the miraculous nature of God
becoming human through a virgin.42
In Proclus’ second homily he explains Adam–Christ typology (section VII,
lines 74ff.). Each aspect of Adam’s life and fall is paralleled by an action of Christ:
That one stretched forth his hand to the tree and plucked forth death, but this one
stretched out his hands on the cross and embraced the world, and in the Gospels he
cries out: ‘When I am raised up I will draw all men to myself.’ That one had a woman
as his accomplice, but this one had a virgin as his bridal chamber.43
ἐκεῖνος τὴν χεῖρα εἰς δένδρον ἐξέτεινεν καὶ θάνατον ἐτρύγησεν, οὗτος τὰς χεῖρας
ἥπλωσεν ἐν τῷ σταυρῷ καὶ τὸν κόσμον ἐνηγκαλίσατο, καὶ βοᾷ ἐν εὐαγγελίοις·
‘ὅταν ὑψωθῶ πάντας ἑλκύσω πρὸς ἐμαυτόν.’ ἐκεῖνος γυναῖκα ἔσχεν ἐπίβουλον, οὗτος
παρθένον ἔσχεν θάλαμον.
38 Edition used is Constas (2003), 136ff. See also the section on imagery in Constas’ introduction
to the hymn: Constas (2003), 131–5.
39 ἡ ἔμψυχος τῆς φύσεως βάτος, ἣν τὸ τῆς θείας ὠδῖνος πῦρ οὐ κατέκαυσεν. Constas’s
translation: Constas (2003), 137.
40 ὁ λογικὸς τοῦ δευτέρου Ἀδὰμ παράδεισος. Constas’s translation: Constas (2003), 137.
41 ὁ φρικτὸς τῆς οἰκονομίας ἱστὸς ἐν ᾧ ἀρρήτως ὑφάνθη ὁ τῆς ἑνώσεως χιτών. Constas’s
translation: Constas (2003), 137. On Proclus’ use of the image of the loom, see Constas (1995).
42 Cunningham (1988), 54–5.
43 Constas’s translation: Constas (2003), 169.
64
Adam’s life is paralleled, but more importantly surpassed by Christ’s. Each

of Adam’s early misdeeds is matched and outdone by a perfect, selfless and
miraculous deed of Christ.
I have presented these homilists as precursors for Romanos in their use
of typology to explain doctrine and to praise God’s marvellous works, but it
is important to realize that they are themselves part of an extensive patris-
tic tradition.44 What these two great exponents of typology in homiletics
reveal is the rich array of images available to Romanos as he composed his
kontakia.
Typology and Correction
Romanos uses typology to explore the themes of correction and perfec-

tion. He joins Adam and Christ and links the first sin with the cruci-
fixion, but the two are not joined as equals.45 Typological connections
like this convey the idea that the antitype is the fulfilment of the type,
so Romanos can use them to argue that Christ is the fulfilment of
Adam, the correction of Adam’s sin and the perfection of his humanity.
Romanos draws on well-known typologies used by some of the theo-
logians discussed above, principally Christ as the second Adam. Mary
is sometimes a second Eve. The cross as a type for the tree in Eden is
another important typology we will look at in this section, before inves-
tigating other types for the cross.
Christ–Adam
Romanos draws the link between Adam as the first human in the first crea-
tion and Christ as the first human of the new creation. In On the Victory of
the Cross, Romanos has the devil say to Hades (XXII.2.7–8):
For it is a cross, to which I fastened Christ,
wishing by a tree to destroy the second Adam.
ἐστὶ γὰρ σταυρός, ᾧ προσήλωσα Χριστὸν
ξύλῳ θέλων ἀνελεῖν τὸν Ἀδὰμ τὸν δεύτερον·
The devil destroyed the first Adam by means of a tree: he tempted Eve to
taste the forbidden fruit of the tree in the garden of Eden, which she then
44 Constas (2003), 131.
45 Schork (1975), 135.
65
Typology and Correction 65
gave to Adam. This sin caused them to be thrown out of paradise and into
a life of hardship and, finally, death. Here the devil attempts the same strat-
egy against the second Adam. This connection between Adam and Christ
emphasizes Christ’s true humanity: he must be sufficiently like Adam for the
devil to try equivalent tactics. Word placement heightens the connection:
‘Christ’ and ‘second’ are placed in the same position, at the end of the line.
In On the Resurrection V, Christ tells the devil that he is ‘earthy
Adam’ (Ἀδὰμ ὁ γεώδης) (XXVIII.28.7). The devil says to Hades that
(XXVIII.31.2–3):
for the sake of humans he was seen as a man
and willingly took on flesh,
in order that, as God, he might give life to Adam as well as Eve.
δι’ ἀνθρώπους ὡράθη ὡς [ἄνθρωπος]
καὶ ἀνέλαβε σάρκα βουλόμενος,
ἵνα τὸν Ἀδὰμ σὺ[ν] τῇ Εὔᾳ ζωώσῃ [[ὡς]] θεός.
Christ is both the ‘earthy Adam’ and God. Adam’s earthiness is redeemed
by Christ’s godliness, but Christ had to become earthy to do it. Here, again,
is the central idea of exchange: God took on flesh (and therefore death)
to bring life to Adam and Eve. The divine–human exchange emphasizes
Christ’s humanity (Romanos draws attention to God’s willingness to take
on flesh), as well as Christ’s divinity (as God, he gives life), and thus sits
well within post-Chalcedon orthodoxy. The expansion of the biblical story
here as elsewhere functions to accentuate orthodox doctrinal positions,
and shows that Romanos was aware of and connected to live theological
debates. In focusing on the exchange, Romanos frames debates about the
nature of Christ in terms of salvation. He argues that redemption comes
about through the Adam–Christ exchange, through Christ’s assumption of
human flesh.
Clever word placement highlights this in the second annunciation hymn
(XXXVII.8.1-2):
Adam was thrust out. Therefore God, devising resurrection for Adam,
assumed Adam from your [i.e. Mary’s] womb.
Ὤσθη Ἀδάμ· διὸ θεὸς Ἀδὰμ τῷ Ἀδὰμ μηχανώμενος ἔγερσιν
τῆς σῆς κοιλίας τοῦτον ἀνέλαβεν·
The threefold repetition of ‘Adam’ in the first line and the juxtaposition of
‘God’ and ‘Adam’ draw attention to both the reasons for the incarnation and
the enormity of the exchange itself. In order to construct a resurrection or
‘awakening’ for Adam, God became human.
6
And as a human, Christ fulfils and surpasses Adam’s life. When the devil
and Hades realize what the effect of the crucifixion has been, the devil cries
out (XXII.11.9–12):
For it is not the first,
but the second Adam who carried Eve,
the mother of the living,
again to paradise.
οὐχ ὁ πρῶτος γάρ,
ἀλλ’ ὁ δεύτερος Ἀδὰμ Εὔαν ἐβάστασε,
τὴν μητέρα τῶν ζώντων,
πάλιν εἰς τὸν παράδεισον.
Christ’s assumption of humanity enables him to restore ‘the mother of the

living’ to paradise. Ordinary humanity could not achieve such a thing: the
first Adam could not carry Eve back into paradise. Christ, as the second
Adam, corrects the fault of Adam, he fulfils Adam’s life, but also surpasses it.
By the cross he restores the first Adam, and Eve, to paradise (XXIII.3.7–8):
For I am the true second Adam
and I have come willingly to save my Adam.
ἐγὼ γὰρ εἰμὶ δεύτερος Ἀδὰμ ἀληθὴς
καὶ ἦλθον ἑκὼν σῶσαι τὸν Ἀδὰμ τὸν ἐμόν·
Romanos draws on Exodus 3:14 and the sayings of Jesus in the Gospel of John
to emphasize Christ’s divinity: he is the ‘I am’.46 God has willingly become part
of his own creation to restore that creation to proper life with him. Truth and
goodness play a part in this passage too. As the ‘true second Adam’ Christ is
the perfect Adam, the fulfilment of what Adam should have been. The words
are in the mouth of Adam in On the Resurrection III (XXVI.5.1–4):
Just as for my sake he would not beg off from blows,
for my sake he will become a second Adam, my saviour.
for my sake he will endure my punishment,
since he bears my flesh, even as I do.
Ὥστε καὶ πληγὰς δι’ ἐμὲ οὐκ ἂν παραιτήσηται,
δεύτερος Ἀδὰμ δι’ ἐμὲ γενήσεταί μου ὁ σωτήρ·
τὴν ἐμὴν τιμωρίαν δι’ ἐμὲ ὑπενέγκῃ
τὴν σάρκα μου φορέσας καθάπερ κἀγώ.
Salvation is personal and particular: Adam repeatedly uses ‘my’ and ‘for my

sake’. Christ, the second Adam, acts on behalf of the first. But since Adam
46 The Gospel ‘I am’ statements are at John 6:35, 8:12, 10:9, 10:11, 11:25, 14:6, 15:1.
67
also represents all humanity, Romanos means his listeners to feel personally
implicated in God’s salvific actions; it is their flesh, as well as that of Adam,
which God takes on: ‘he bears my flesh, even as I do.’ Romanos reinforces
that Christ was truly human; his flesh was the same as Adam’s, the same as
that of all humans. To highlight this, Romanos links flesh with blows and
punishment, which Christ, in his obedience, does not avoid; Christ’s flesh
combined with his divinity make him the antitype, the fulfilment of Adam.
Christ as the second Adam thus communicates a complex, interwoven
set of claims about who Christ is and human salvation. As immortal God,
Jesus took on flesh in order to bring humans immortality. This exchange of
opposites is the basis of human redemption; it reunites humanity with God.
Christ’s human life is the fulfilment of Adam’s life: he makes it what it was
supposed to be. As both human and divine, however, Christ also surpasses
Adam, and it is his two natures which enable him to correct Adam’s wrongs,
obediently submitting to suffer and die for Adam’s sake. Thus Christ reca-
pitulates Adam’s life. Through Adam–Christ typology Romanos argues that
Christ corrects and perfects human existence.
Mary–Eve
Although Romanos mostly focuses on the second Adam as the antitype of
the first, he also presents Mary as the second Eve and the corrector of Eve’s
sins. In On the Nativity I, Mary is the intercessor and defender of humanity,
and the means by which humans return to paradise. Mary speaks to the
Christ-child (I.23):
For I am not simply your mother, compassionate saviour,
not by chance do I suckle the one who supplies my milk,
but on behalf of all I entreat you.
You made me both mouth and boast of my whole race,
for your inhabited world has me
as a mighty shelter, wall and support.
Those cast out from the luxuries of paradise
look to me, because I bring them back
to understanding all things, through me who bore you,
just now a child, God before all ages.
Οὐχ ἁπλῶς γὰρ εἰμὶ μήτηρ σου, σῶτερ εὔσπλαγχνε·
οὐκ εἰκῇ γαλουχῶ τὸν χορηγὸν τοῦ γάλακτος·
ἀλλὰ ὑπὲρ πάντων ἐγὼ δυσωπῶ σε·
ἐποίησάς με ὅλου τοῦ γένους μου καὶ στόμα καὶ καύχημα·
ἐμὲ γὰρ ἔχει ἡ οἰκουμένη σου
σκέπην κραταιάν, τεῖχος καὶ στήριγμα·
68
ἐμὲ ὁρῶσιν οἱ ἐκβληθέντες

τοῦ παραδείσου τῆς τρυφῆς, ὅτι ἐπιστρέφω αὐτοὺς
λαβεῖν αἴσθησιν πάντων δι᾽ ἐμοῦ τῆς σε τεκούσης
παιδίον νέον, τὸν πρὸ αἰώνων θεόν.
Mary has a God-given role as intercessor for humanity, and as a fortress, a

strong defender of the race. She explains her different roles: for her baby,
she is a gentle, caring mother, nursing her son at the breast; for human-
ity she becomes intercessor and model and a military bulwark, protecting
humanity from the invasion of sin and death.47 Mary is the one who returns
humanity to paradise (8–9). The verb ‘to bring back’ (epistrephō) also has
connotations of correction so that we could translate lines 8–9 as ‘because
I correct them to the point that they can understand all things’. Through
the son she bore, Mary is the corrector of human sin. Mary is an important
part of the redemption of Adam in On the Nativity I, in which she is seen as
the quencher of Adam’s (and David’s) thirst (I.1.7–8). We will look at this
passage in more detail in the section on metaphor below.
In On the Annunciation II, Mary is specifically the antitype of Eve
(XXXVII.8.3–5):
Before, a woman brought [Adam] down, and now a woman raises him up,
a virgin, from a virgin.
Adam did not know Eve then,
and Joseph does not know the God-bearer now.
γυνὴ τὸ πρὶν κατέβαλε, καὶ γυνὴ νῦν ἀνιστᾷ,
ἐκ παρθένου παρθένος·
τὴν Εὔαν ὁ Ἀδὰμ οὐκ ἔγνω τότε,
οὐδὲ τὴν θεοτόκον ὁ Ἰωσὴφ νῦν·
Whereas Eve brought sin and death upon humanity by eating the forbidden
fruit and giving it to Adam, Mary brings redemption and life by giving birth
to Jesus Christ, that is, by being the Theotokos or ‘God-bearer’.48 We will
investigate this term in more detail shortly.
The disobedience of the first woman must be undone by a woman.
This sort of typology works on symmetry, which is always so important
for Romanos’ word plays. Romanos also focuses on the actions of the two
women. Through Christ-like obedience, Mary redeems Eve’s disobedience;
Mary corrects the wrongs of Eve. Romanos sets up a structural compari-
son between the two women, further emphasizing their differences. Eve is
on one side of the caesura and Mary on the other. This physical boundary
47 On Mary’s different roles in the kontakia, see Arentzen (2014), Gador-Whyte (2013a), 77–92.
48 On the translation of this term, see Wright (2004), 22.
69
(a ‘weak sense pause’ in the poetry) makes the contrast the greater.49
Through the phrase ‘a virgin from a virgin’, and the following lines (4–5),
Romanos also draws attention to Eve’s virginity, which was another way in
which Mary was seen as an antitype for Eve.50 Eve was a virgin before she
tasted the fruit and her descendent Mary was also a virgin. The first virgin,
Eve, foreshadows this significant virgin, Mary.
But, unlike the first virgin, Mary remains a virgin. In this sense she is also
the perfection of Eve. The refrain of this kontakion (XXXVII) is
A virgin gives birth and after the birth still remains a virgin.
παρθένος τίκτει καὶ μετὰ τόκον πάλιν μένει παρθένος.
Likewise, in On the Nativity I, Mary says (I.2.7–10):51

And I look at you among your swaddling clothes,
but I observe my virginal bloom sealed
for you guard it, you approved of it, you were born
just now a child, God before all ages.
καὶ σὲ μὲν βλέπω μετὰ σπαργάνων,
τὴν παρθενίαν δὲ ἀκμὴν ἐσφραγισμένην θεωρῶ·
σὺ γὰρ ταύτην φυλάξας ἐγεννήθης εὐδοκήσας
παιδίον νέον, ὁ πρὸ αἰώνων θεός.
Both the conception and birth of Mary’s child are divine and so keep her
virginity intact. By contrast, Eve’s experiences of childbirth are normal
human ones. She is ‘the one who brought forth children in pain’ (ἡ ἐν
ὀδύναις τεκοῦσα τέκνα, II.3.3–4). The second Eve surpasses the first, and
shows what perfect womanhood means.
Romanos draws attention to this perfection by describing Mary using
adjectives like ‘blameless’ or ‘unblemished’ (I.22.1). Her womb is also
blameless (XXXVI.15.5), and she is ‘all-holy’ (IV.10.1). Descriptors like
‘radiant’ (XXXVI.15.3), which is used of the stars or the dawn (e.g. Paul Sil.
AP 5.227), give Mary a divine status.
One of the most significant epithets Romanos uses for Mary is Theotokos
(God-bearer). According to Gregory of Nazianzus, this title reveals the two
natures of Christ: divine, since Mary conceived divinely, and human, since
49 On this terminology, see the metrical appendix in Maas and Trypanis (1963), 511.
50 It perhaps also suggests that virginity alone is not enough to guarantee salvation or to be
classed as godly and virtuous. See, for example, Romanos’ hymns on the story of the ten
virgins. Five of the virgins are excluded from the kingdom because they did not lead virtuous
lives in spite of their virginity. Cf. XLVII.13–26.
51 See also stanza 20.
70
Christ was born of a human woman.52 In the fifth-century christological

disputes the term came under scrutiny by the bishop of Constantinople,
Nestorius, who argued that Mary could only give birth to the human nature
of Christ (i.e. she was the anthropotokos, ‘bearer of the man’) but that since
the two natures were united in the person of Christ it would be best to call
Mary Christotokos (Christ-bearer).53 Like Gregory, Cyril of Alexandria saw
the title Theotokos as safeguarding the two natures of Christ and their union;
he thought Nestorius’ arguments placed too great a separation between the
two natures and therefore moved close to suggesting that there were two
Sons.54 Polemically, Cyril linked Nestorius with the Jews and others who
rejected the divinity of Christ.55 Cyril saw Mary’s role as Theotokos as ensur-
ing the redemption of humanity, the lifting of the curse which humanity
brought upon itself.56
We have seen that Romanos’ conception of Mary’s role in salvation is in
keeping with that of Cyril (and Gregory, and others), and his use of the title
Theotokos is similarly in line with these theologians’ concerns about the
two natures of Christ and the salvific nature of the incarnation. At times
Romanos calls Mary Theotokos when he particularly wants to stress the mir-
acle of the incarnation. So, in a kontakion which foregrounds Mary’s virgin-
ity post partum, Romanos likens Mary to the rain on the fleece, the burning
bush and the rod of Aaron and addresses her as Theotokos (XXXVII.Pr).57
The miracle of Mary the God-bearer both fulfils and surpasses all these Old
Testament miracles.
At the opening of On the Presentation in the Temple (IV.1.1), Romanos calls
for his congregation to rush to the Theotokos, creating an image of Mary as
52 Ep. 101, section 16. See also Cameron (2004), 7, Price (2007), 56.
53 On Nestorius’ views, see III Epistula Nestorium ad Celestinem: Loofs (1905), 181–2 and
Socrates Scholasticus Eccl. Hist. VII.32. See also Price (2007), 57, (2008), 89–90, Young
and Teal (2010), 293. Price makes it clear that the disputes of the fifth century were over
christology and not mariology and that the term Theotokos was not the main issue of the
debates: Price (2004), 31–8. It is only in the fifth century that this term was disputed. Earlier
theologians of various christological persuasions used the term without concern. See
Starowieyski (1989), 239, Wright (2004), 22–3. On the use of Theotokos before the fourth
century, see McGuckin (2001), 10–13, Starowieyski (1989), 236–42.
54 Perry and Kendall (2013), 30.
55 Price (2007), 60, Wessel (1999), 2. On Cyril of Alexandria’s incarnational theology, see
Weinandy (2003), 23–54, Young (2003), 55–74. See also McGuckin (1994). Cyril’s position was
vindicated at the Council of Ephesus (431), although there was no decree officially supporting
the term Theotokos, and at the Council of Chalcedon in 451 Mary was named the Theotokos in
the definition of the faith (section 4): Stevenson (1966), 337.
56 Third Letter to Nestorius (Letter 17). Translated in McGuckin (2009), 130.
57 The refrain of this kontakion is ‘A virgin gives birth and after the birth still remains a virgin’
(Παρθένος τίκτει καὶ μετὰ τόκον πάλιν μένει παρθένος). For the rain on the fleece, see Judges 6:3;
for the burning bush see Exodus 3:2–4; for Aaron’s rod see Numbers 17:23.
71
an ordinary and contemporary mother living amongst them. And yet the use
of the title reinforces that she is far from ordinary; rather, she was chosen by
God and her son is God. Again it is the miracle of the incarnation and Mary’s
perpetual virginity which Romanos has his characters emphasize. Later in that
same kontakion Simeon addresses Mary as Theotokos, proclaiming that the
prophets marvelled at her (IV.9.5):
because you are the closed gate, Theotokos.
ὅτι ἡ πύλη ἡ κεκλεισμένη ὑπάρχεις, θεοτόκε.
Romanos combines the title Theotokos with an image of Mary’s perpetual

virginity, which guarantees both her role as God-bearer and Christ’s divine
nature.
Most often, however, Romanos uses the term Theotokos in phrases which
either call for or assume the intercession of the Virgin (VII.21.7–10):58
But save us, blameless one,
from the lamentation of your judgement, since you are the merciful God,
by the prayers of the holy Theotokos and virgin,
[you] who made all things in wisdom.
ἀλλὰ ῥῦσαι ἡμᾶς, ἀναμάρτητε,
τοῦ ὀδυρμοῦ τῆς κρίσεως τῆς σῆς ὡς ἐλεήμων Θεός
ταῖς εὐχαῖς τῆς ἁγίας Θεοτόκου καὶ παρθένου,
ὁ τὰ πάντα ἐν σοφίᾳ ποιήσας.
These phrases often appear at the end of the kontakion as part of the final
prayer, joining the prayers of Romanos and his congregation with those
of Mary.59 Their formulaic nature may imply a growing appreciation of
Mary’s role as intercessor in popular piety and reflect the developing
Marian cult.60
For Romanos, Mary is a redeemer through her role as the Theotokos. She
brought Christ into the world and thereby plays an essential role in salva-
tion; she intercedes with Christ on behalf of humanity. As in the Christ–
Adam parallel, salvation, framed in terms of correction by obedience and
58 See also IV.18.7; VII.Pr.3; VIII.Pr.3; VIII.18.7; XI.25.7; XVII.Pr.2.5; XXIII.Pr.4; XXXIV.24.8;
XXXIX.24.3; XLIV.22.15; XLIX.22.11; LI.24.8; LII.Pr.6. Romanos also calls for Mary’s
intercession without using the term Theotokos, e.g. III.18.
59 On final prayers in Romanos, see Barkhuizen (1989), (1991a).
60 See Gador-Whyte (2013a), 83–7, Shoemaker (2007), 135. On the development of the cult
of Mary in late antiquity, see Cameron (2004), Cunningham (1988), Shoemaker (2008).
Mary’s role as intercessor became increasingly important from this period on. Theoteknos,
for example, emphasized the ambassador role in the early seventh century. See Cunningham
(1988), 58, Daley (1998), 75.
72
the restoration of true humanity, is the central purpose of the comparison.

Romanos presents Mary as the perfect woman, who by her purity and her
obedience redeems the impurity and disobedience of Eve, who was tempted
and sinned and brought death upon humanity. Through Mary’s mothering
of Jesus, humans are restored to life.
Cross–Tree
The second Adam restores the first to paradise through the crucifixion.
Romanos explores this through the image of the tree and plays on the word
‘wood’ (ξύλον). Paradise is symbolized by the tree of life, to which the cross
restores Adam; the tree of knowledge, which led to Adam’s fall, is redeemed
by the cross. Romanos underlines the typological nature of certain Old
Testament stories and images of redemption through word play.
The image of fruit-bearing connects the tree in Eden and the cross in On
the Victory of the Cross (XXII.5.6–8):
For behold, this tree, which you say is dry and barren,
brings forth fruit, after tasting which the robber
became the heir of the good things of Eden.
Ἰδοὺ γὰρ τὸ ξύλον ἐκεῖνο, ὃ λέγεις ξηρὸν καὶ ἄκαρπον,
βλαστάνει καρπόν, οὗ γευσάμενος λῃστὴς
τῶν ἀγαθῶν τῆς Ἐδὲμ κληρονόμος γέγονεν·
Death speaks here and, unlike Satan, he recognizes the significance of the
crucifixion: Adam is restored to the tree of life. Death chides Satan, rebuk-
ing him for being caught in his own snare (lines 1–5). The supposedly bar-
ren tree is the cross on which Christ is crucified. Rather than a fruitless
plank of wood, it is the life-giving tree in Eden. It gives life to the robber
who was crucified with Christ (and to all humanity). The robber now inher-
its paradise, with its life-giving fruit (8). The return to paradise, as well as
signifying the inauguration of the new creation, suggests a new relationship
with God. The cross reunites humanity with God.
The cross both is and reveals the tree of life in On the Resurrection V
(XXVIII.22.1–5):
Death cried these things, dismissing the lifetime accomplishments
of the Wanderer.61
61 Eusebius seems to use ‘wanderer’ for Satan in his Demonstratio Evangelica PG 22, 118B. The
term is also used of heretics, those who ‘wander’ from the truth. Romanos makes a word play
on ‘wandering’ and Plato in XXXIII.17.4: τί πλανῶνται πρὸς Πλάτωνα.
73
For both of them the much-revered cross fixed in the earth

had wrought defeat.
[But] to humans it had revealed the tree of life,
on which the fruit of good things was nailed,
in order that, by dying, he might bring to bloom the resurrection
for mortals in the meadows below.62
Ὁ μὲν Θάνατος ταῦτα ἐφθέγξατο διελέγχων τὸν π[λά]νον
ὅσα ἐν βίῳ ἀπετέλεσεν·
ἀμφοτέροις μὲν ἧτταν [εἰρ]γάσατο
ὁ παγεὶς ἐπὶ γῆς πολύτιμος σταυρός·
ξύλον τῆς ζωῆς τοῖς ἀνθρώποις δεδήλωται,
ὅπου ὁ καρπὸς τῶν ἀγαθῶν πρ[οσ]ηλώθη,
ἵνα θνῄσκων ἀνθήσῃ βροτοῖς
ἐκ τῶν κάτ[ω λειμ]ώνων ἀνάστασιν
Whereas in the passage from On the Victory of the Cross Romanos associ-
ated the cross with the tree of life, in this passage the cross reveals the tree
which had been hidden because of human sin. But it also is the tree ‘on
which the fruit of good things was nailed’ (line 4). Christ is this fruit and by
his crucifixion he brings about the general resurrection. Images of fruit and
blossoming emphasize that Christ inaugurates a new existence, bringing
new life through his death and resurrection. The juxtaposition of ‘dying’
and ‘bring to bloom’ also helps to highlight the connection between the
death of Christ and the new life he offers.
In On the Adoration of the Cross, Romanos refers to both trees
(XXIII.4.5–7):
Because of a tree sin was entered by the forefather [i.e. Adam]
because of which, as it was unlawful, he was thrown out of paradise,
but he enters again through the tree of life …
διὰ ξύλου δὲ ἡ παράβασις εἰσήχθη τῷ προπάτορι,
δι’ οὗ ὥσπερ ἄνομος παραδείσου ἐκβέβληται·
εἰσέρχεται δὲ πάλιν διὰ ξύλου ζωῆς·
Adam was thrown out of paradise because of the tree of the knowledge
of good and evil; he re-enters through the tree of the cross, the tree of life
which redeems the knowledge tree.63 We might see this redemption also
as a renewal of human intellect. Previously the tree of knowledge was for-
bidden to Adam, and when he ate of it he disobeyed God’s command; after
62 John Chrysostom refers to the ‘meadows below’ in his Ad populum Antiochenum to refer
simply to ‘earth’ as opposed to heaven: PG 49, 114.
63 Barkhuizen (1992), 161.
74
the crucifixion Adam is restored to the tree, because he has matured, and
is now allowed to eat of it. Through the goodness and truth of God, human
intellect is perfected and renewed. Romanos stresses this redemption by the
repetition of ‘because of the tree’.
Romanos uses the word ‘wood’ to show how Old Testament redemp-
tion narratives foreshadow the ultimate redemption of humanity: the wood
which makes the water sweet at Marah (Exodus 15:23–5), the thicket which
traps the ram to be sacrificed in place of Isaac (Genesis 22:13) and the staff
which Elisha uses to raise a sunken axe-head to the water’s surface (2 Kings
6:5–7). There is an extended contrast between bitter and sweet in On the
Victory of the Cross, which presents the sweetening of the water at Marah as
an image of the recapitulation of human life which takes place in the cruci-
fixion.64 Death says (XXII.15.1–8):
By the wood which he showed to Moses,
which once sweetened the water at Marah,
didn’t the Master teach what it was and from what root?
Then he did not say, for he did not want to,
but now he has revealed it to all.
For look, everything has been sweetened, but we are embittered.
From our root, a cross has sprung up,
which was planted in the earth and became sweet.
Ἆρα ὅπερ ἔδειξε τῷ Μωϋσῇ ὁ δεσπότης
ξύλον ὃ ἐγλύκανε ποτὲ τὸ ὕδωρ εἰς Μέρραν,
ἐδίδαξε τί ἦν καὶ τίνος ἡ ῥίζα;
τότε οὐκ εἶπεν· οὐ γὰρ ἤθελε·
νῦν δὲ τοῖς πᾶσι τοῦτο ἐφανέρωσεν·
ἰδοὺ γὰρ τὰ πάντα ἡδύνθη, ἡμεῖς δὲ παρεπικράνθημεν·
ἐκ ῥίζης ἡμῶν ἀνεβλάστησε σταυρός,
ὃς ἐνεβλήθη τῇ γῇ καὶ γλυκεῖα γέγονεν·
In the Exodus narrative (15:22–5), the Israelites spent three days in the
wilderness without water and when they arrived at Marah they found the
water bitter and undrinkable. God rescued them from death through a
piece of wood: Moses threw the wood into the water and the water became
drinkable. Not surprisingly, theologians often linked this story with bap-
tism and the crucifixion, the redemption through water that comes about
through the cross.65 In Romanos’ kontakion, Death recognizes that this Old
Testament episode foreshadowed the crucifixion. The wood of the cross and
64 See also XXVIII.30, although ξύλον is reconstructed here.

65 See, for example, Tertullian On Baptism 9.2 and Ambrose On the Mysteries 3.14.
75
Moses’ wood are of the same ilk. Antitype again surpasses type: the cross
sweetens everything (and embitters Death and Satan), whereas the wood
at Marah only sweetened the water; the cross saves eternally, whereas the
wood at Marah only rescued the Israelites temporarily.
In On Abraham and Isaac, Isaac’s salvation from sacrifice at his father’s
hand prefigures the cross (XLI.23.1–5):66
Just as this man, your own Isaac, carried the wood on his shoulders,
on his shoulders my son will carry the cross.
Your great love has also shown you the things to come.
And now see where the ram is caught in the thicket.
Seeing, understand the mystery.
Οὗτος δ’ ὡς ἐβάσταζε ξύλα τοῖς ὤμοις ὁ σὸς Ἰσαάκ,
ἐπ’ ὤμων φέρει ὁ ἐμὸς υἱὸς [[τὸν]] σταυρόν·
ὁ πόθος ὁ πολύς σοι ἔδειξε καὶ τὰ μέλλοντα·
βλέψον ἄρτι καὶ κριὸν τὸν ἐν τῷ ξύλῳ
πόθεν κρατεῖται· βλέπων καταμάνθανε τὸ μυστήριον·
Romanos sees a double typology in this Old Testament story. Isaac carries
the wood (xula) for his own sacrifice, just as Christ carried the cross for
his own crucifixion (‘wood’ and ‘cross’ are equated here), but the ram is
also a type for Christ, and the thicket (xulō) a type for the wood of the
cross.67 The ‘ram in the thicket’ is placed in the same position in the line
as ‘my son [will carry] the cross’. Ephrem the Syrian likewise makes this
second-level typology, depicting the ram hanging in the tree just as Christ
hangs on the cross.68
Once again the image of wood is central to the typology in the narra-
tive of Elisha rescuing a sunken axe-head (2 Kings 6:5–7).69 Romanos pre-
sents this event as a type for the crucifixion and harrowing of hell in On the
Victory of the Cross (XXII.3):
‘Go, Beliar, come to your senses,’ cried Death,
‘Run, uncover your eyes and see
the root of the wood within my soul.70
66 Brock identifies similarities between this kontakion and two anonymous Syriac memre, and
argues that they (or the Syriac tradition of which they are part) influenced Romanos in his
composition of the Isaac kontakion. See Brock (1986), 91–6.
67 Athanasius makes the same link between the ram and Christ, claiming that Abraham
recognized Christ in the ram: Epistle 6. See Kessler (2004), 133.
68 Commentary on Genesis 20.3.
69 This story was often seen as a type for Christ’s baptism as well as his crucifixion. Cf. Jensen
(2010), 119.
70 The image of Hades pierced by the cross of Christ becomes an important one in the visual arts
as well. See Frazer (1974).
76
It has gone down to my depths,

so that it might draw up Adam like iron.
Elisha once painted an image of this,
raising the axe-head from the river.
With a light thing, the prophet drew up the heavy,
foreshadowing it for you and teaching you
that by wood Adam would be led up
from wretchedness
again to paradise.’
῞Υπαγε, ἀνάνηψον, Βελίαρ, κράζει ὁ Ἅιδης,
δράμε, ἀποκάλυψον τοὺς ὀφθαλμούς σου καὶ ἴδε
τοῦ ξύλου τὴν ῥίζαν ἐντὸς τῆς ψυχῆς μου·
κάτω κατῆλθεν εἰς τὰ βάθη μου,
ἵν᾽ ἀνασπάσῃ τὸν Ἀδὰμ ὡς σίδηρον·
τὴν τούτου εἰκόνα ποτὲ Ἐλισσαῖος προεζωγράφησεν
ἐκ τοῦ ποταμοῦ τὴν ἀξίνην ἀνελών·
τῷ ἐλαφρῷ τὸ βαρὺ ὁ προφήτης εἵλκυσε
προοιμιάζων σοι καὶ διδάσκων σε
ὅτι ξύλῳ ὁ Ἀδὰμ μέλλει ἀνάγεσθαι
ἀπὸ ταλαιπωρίας
With urgency, signalled by the imperatives placed emphatically at the begin-

ning of the first two lines and by their rhyming endings, Death encour-
ages Satan to see the significance of the crucifixion. He likens it to Elisha’s
miraculous restoration of the sunken axe-head, asserting that Elisha him-
self taught Satan the truth if only Satan could recognize it. And so Death
opens his address with the command: ‘uncover your eyes and see’: a light
bit of wood restores something heavy. ‘Light thing’ and ‘wood’ in lines 8
and 10 respectively are equated, as are ‘heavy’ and ‘Adam’, which are also in
the same position in their lines. The weak sense pauses which come after
‘heavy’ and ‘Adam’ perhaps also help to emphasize the heaviness of each.
Romanos also likens Adam to iron: a heavy rock which is drawn up to the
surface. Adam is redeemed from the depths just as the borrowed axe-head
was from the deep water.
Redemption and punishment go together in God’s correction of human-
ity through the cross and this is reflected in the typologies Romanos
uses: the just are redeemed and the unjust punished. Once again, it is Death
who points out the significance of past events (XXII.13):
O how did we not remember the types of this tree?
For they have been shown for a long time in many and diverse ways
7
in the saved and in the lost.

Noah was saved by a tree,
but the whole world, having been disobedient, was destroyed.
Moses was glorified by one, when he took a rod as a staff,
but Egypt drowned with the many plagues that came from it,
as though she had fallen into deep waters.
For what it has done now, the cross showed long ago
in an image. So why are we not lamenting?
For Adam is brought in
again to paradise.
῍Ω πῶς οὐκ ἐμνήσθημεν τῶν τύπων τούτου τοῦ ξύλου·
πάλαι γὰρ ἐδείχθησαν πολυμερῶς, πολυτρόπως
ἐν τοῖς σῳζομένοις καὶ ἀπολλυμένοις·
ξύλῳ ὁ Νῶε διεσῴζετο,
κόσμος δὲ ὅλος ἀπειθήσας ὤλλυτο·
Μωσῆς δι᾽ αὐτοῦ ἐδοξάσθη, τὴν ῥάβδον
καθάπερ σκῆπτρον λαβών,
ἡ Αἴγυπτος δὲ ταῖς πληγαῖς ταῖς ἐξ αὐτοῦ
ὥσπερ βαθείαις πηγαῖς ἐμπεσοῦσα πνίγεται·
ἃ νῦν γὰρ ἔπραξε, πάλαι ἔδειξεν
ἐν εἰκόνι ὁ σταυρός· τί οὖν οὐ κλαίομεν;
ὁ Ἀδὰμ γὰρ ὑπάγει
Death’s lament encourages listeners to make the connections he made all

too late. Romanos emphasizes that all history has foreshadowed the life
of Christ through the words ‘long time’, ‘many’ and ‘diverse’. The wood of
Noah’s ark (Genesis 6:11–8:19) is a type for the wood of the cross: it was the
salvation of the righteous in the flood, but the unrighteous were destroyed.
Likewise, Moses’ staff saved the Israelites from slavery, but destroyed the
enslaving Egyptians. The image of water here draws together the plagues
of Egypt, which decimated the population, with the parting of the Red Sea
(Exodus 14:16), which literally drowned the Egyptians. One group is saved,
but the other destroyed. So the redemption of humanity means destruction
for Satan and Death.
Such images, of redemption and punishment, abound in On the Adoration
of the Cross (XXIII). Images of the cultivation of nature highlight that the
cross restores humans to paradise and demonstrate the growth, health and
beauty of God’s redeeming actions. In strophe 6, the robber describes the
cross as a graft for sterile souls (line 5), a plough (5), a thought-cleansing
cultivation (6), the root of resurrection life (7). Healing images are teamed
78
with those of punishment: the cross is a rod which beats down Adam’s
enemies (8).
The other image which recurs in On the Adoration of the Cross is a royal
one. The cross becomes an inscription, sealed with Christ’s royal, purple
blood, or a royal signature (XXIII.11.1–2; 5–6):71
‘Receive the certain seal and divine inscription,
the signature of the king, God, the all-merciful.’
‘Σφραγῖδα δέχου βεβαίαν καὶ θεῖα ἐγχαράγματα,
ὑπογραφὴν βασιλέως θεοῦ τοῦ πανοικτίρμονος.’
And, having received them, the cherubim recognized the writing

shining forth with the grace of the purple blood.
Χερουβὶμ δὲ ὑποδεξάμενα ἐγνώριζε τὰ γράμματα
ἐκλάμποντα χάριτι πορφυρίδος τοῦ αἵματος.
In this kontakion, the good thief takes the cross to the gates of Eden as proof
that he may re-enter paradise. The cross becomes a royal pass-key or signet
ring by which the cherubim can recognize the true ‘heir’. By means of the
cross, Christ has corrected the wrongs Adam did which caused him to be
expelled from paradise. Humanity has now been perfected and may reclaim
its inheritance: Eden.
For Romanos, typology models the restoration of humanity: the antitype
fulfils and surpasses the type. Adam is a type for Christ in this way, as is Eve
for Mary. Christ takes on Adam’s humanity – and this means the depth of
his ‘humanness’ – even to the point of death. Christ corrects the wrongs of
Adam and, by being the fulfilment of Adam, brings him to perfection. He
inaugurates the new creation, just as Adam was the beginning of the first
creation. Christ saves Adam (and all humanity) and brings him into the new
reality. Romanos suggests that Mary is similarly redemptive for Eve; by her
obedience to God’s call, Mary corrects the disobedience of Eve. She brings
life into the world by giving birth to Jesus, whereas Eve brought death into
the world by her sin. As we have seen, Romanos uses a number of differ-
ent permutations of cross typologies, whereby the cross displays Christ as
the fulfilment of Old Testament prophecies, forgiving redeemer and royal
saviour. The cross redeems the sin of Eden (which is symbolized by the
tree of the knowledge of good and evil) and restores humanity to the tree
of life. Romanos plays on the word ‘wood’ to strengthen typological links
between Old Testament redemption narratives and that of the crucifixion
71 On writing imagery, see Krueger (2003), (2004), 165. Also see further below.
79
Comparisons 79
and resurrection and thus brings to the fore the redemption which Christ
achieves through the restoration of humanity.
Comparisons
We have already seen some comparisons between Adam and Christ set
up by the structure of the stanza or the hymn, or through repetitions of
words or structure. Romanos uses structural techniques to create a sort
of syncrisis between Adam and Christ.72 Structural comparisons set up
Adam’s actions against Christ’s.73 Each act of disobedience on Adam’s part
is counteracted by an obedient action of Christ; each of Christ’s actions
has a salvific effect for Adam.
In On the Epiphany, as we have seen above, Romanos says to Adam
(VI.3.4–5):
[Christ] came down to earth, so that he might take you up,
He became human, so that you might become God.
Romanos uses the sense pause (shown here by a larger space, following the
convention of the Maas–Trypanis edition) in each line to create a compar-
ison.74 Before the pause, he refers to Christ, after it, to Adam. The repeti-
tion of ‘so that’ in each line after the pause adds to the structural contrast.
Christ’s descent to earth enables Adam’s restoration to paradise. Christ’s
humanity enables human divinity.
Caesurae and ‘so that’ are again used for this purpose in On the Nativity
II. Christ says to his mother (about Adam and Eve) (II.14.8):
I came down to earth, so that they might have eternal life.
κατέβην εἰς γῆν, ἵνα σχῶσιν ἄφθαρτον ζωήν·
The pattern is the same as that above. There is space to marvel at Christ’s
action and anticipate the ‘so that’ clause which brings about a new existence
for humanity, just as the proper response of humans to the new creation is
72 For a definition of syncrisis, see Kennedy (2003), 113.

73 Visually, we can see something similar in the eighteenth-century redemption rose window in
the cathedral of Saint Jean, Lyon, in which the stages of Adam’s creation, sin and expulsion
from the garden, which are illustrated on the right, are balanced by the actions of Christ, from
incarnation to resurrection, on the left.
74 See the metrical appendix in Maas and Trypanis (1963), 511.
80
wonder, praise and living in anticipation of heaven. Christ’s descent to earth

enables human ascent to heaven.75
Romanos also sets up comparisons between Adam and Christ through the
use of cognates or repetition of a word in different forms. Adam has suffered,
so Christ takes on this suffering in order to relieve Adam’s (XXIII.4.3–4):
And I became a curse,
so that I might release Adam and his own from the curse.
καὶ κατάρα ἐγενόμην,
ἱνὰ κατάρας ἐλευθερώσω τὸν Ἀδὰμ καὶ τοὺς αὐτοῦ
Romanos’ use of ‘curse’ (katara) recalls Paul’s letter to the Galatians, in

which he says: ‘Christ redeemed us from the curse (kataras) of the law by
becoming a curse (katara) himself – for it is written, “Cursed is anyone who
hangs on a tree” ’ (Gal. 3:13). Paul was referring to Deuteronomy 21:23,
which states that anyone who hangs on a pole is cursed. The form of Jesus’
death made him a curse in Jewish (and Greco-Roman) eyes. Jesus took this
curse upon himself, by being crucified, in order to remove the curse of the
Law from Adam (and all his people). The placement of ‘curse’ in the same
position in each line heightens the comparison.
In On the Annunciation II, Romanos repeats the word ‘to wound’ to
emphasize the close connection between what has happened to Adam and
what God does in the person of Christ (XXXVII.2.3):
for this reason God, seeking to wound the one who wounded Adam,
became flesh from a virgin.
διὸ θεὸς τὸν τρώσαντα τὸν Ἀδὰμ τρῶσαι ζητῶν
ἐκ παρθένου σαρκοῦται
Adam has been ‘wounded’ and so Christ seeks to ‘wound’ the perpetra-
tor: Satan. Romanos highlights the correction of the wrongs done by or to
Adam and shows that Christ is the fulfilment of the perfection to which
Adam was called.
All these comparisons set up Christ as Adam’s counterbalance. Each
action of Christ is a response to one of Adam’s. In fact, it is the response,
the perfect human action which redeems fallen humanity. Comparison and
typology are thus useful tools for Romanos to examine how Christ is the
second Adam, that is, how he corrects the sins of Adam and perfects the
human race. Perhaps the most significant rhetorical device Romanos uses
in his exposition of this theme, however, is metaphor.
75 See also XX.2.1–3.

81
Metaphor 81
Metaphor
Metaphor takes words and ideas which relate to one thing and connects them
with another, putting together two disparate things to say something which
cannot be captured in straightforward language.76 In a formal sense, this
models God’s restoration of humanity, in which God connected two disparate
things (human and divine) in the person of Christ in order to do something
which could not be done elsewise: to restore humanity to God. There are sev-
eral images and associated metaphors which Romanos uses to explore the
correction and perfection of humanity through the second Adam: opening of
closed paradise, clothing and nakedness, blindness and sight (and the senses
more generally), thirst and hunger, writing, and healing. Many of these met-
aphors draw on existing scriptural metaphors, which carry with them certain
fertile connotations. Romanos draws on the tradition as well as creating new
metaphors, using the rhetorical form to illustrate the sort of process which
takes place in Christ’s correction and perfection of humanity.
If I am right about metaphor, then explaining it will always fail to capture
the newness of its meaning. What I can hope to do in the following is show
how different images and metaphors cohere, and identify particular ways
in which metaphor embodies or seeks to explain the theological idea of the
second Adam.
Reopening Paradise
In On the Nativity I, both Mary and Christ are described as a door or gate
(I.9.4–10):
She opens the door and receives the company of the Magi.
She opens the door, she the unopened gate,
whom Christ alone broke through.
She opens the door, she who had been opened
and yet never cheated of the treasure of her purity.
She opened the door, from whom was born the door,
a child now, God before all ages.
ἡ δὲ ἀνοίγει θύραν καὶ δέχεται τῶν μάγων τὸ σύστημα·
ἀνοίγει θύραν ἡ ἀπαράνοικτος
76 Soskice (1985), 15, 44, 49 and passim. This view of metaphor is not unlike that of Aristotle,
who argued that metaphor enables a superior mode of knowledge than a mere gloss. On
which, see Dalimier (2004), 127–41. See also Cohen (1978), 3–12. Against this view of
metaphor, Davidson, Rorty and others claim metaphors have no meaning other than the literal
interpretation of their constituent words: Davidson (1978), 31–47, Haack (1987–8), 293–301.
82
πύλη, ἣν Χριστὸς μόνος διώδευσεν·

ἀνοίγει θύραν ἡ ἀνοιχθεῖσα
καὶ μὴ κλαπεῖσα μηδαμῶς τὸν τῆς ἁγνείας θησαυρόν·
αὐτὴ ἤνοιξε θύραν, ἀφ’ ἧς ἐγεννήθη θύρα,
παιδίον νέον, ὁ πρὸ αἰώνων θεός.
Metaphor, imagery and typology are mixed in this passage. Romanos com-
bines the image of Mary opening the door to the Magi with the metaphor
of Christ as the door to heaven (cf. John 10:8–10). Insistent repetition cre-
ates an image of opening that which was firmly closed before. Romanos
argues that Christ has opened the door to heaven. At the start of the hymn,
the door to heaven is the gate to Eden (I.1.1): ‘Bethlehem has opened Eden,
come, let us see!’ (τὴν Ἐδὲμ Βηθλεὲμ ἤνοιξε, δεῦτε ἴδωμεν). ‘Bethlehem’
becomes a metaphor for the birth of the incarnate God. Jesus opens Eden,
which was closed by Adam’s sin. By correcting this sin, Christ is the way
humans return to paradise. The final line (the refrain) emphasizes the
union of human and divine in the person of Jesus Christ. By joining these
together, Christ restores humanity to relationship with God, acting as the
door to heaven, and initiating the new creation. We will explore this in
more detail in the following chapter. The door that was closed from the Fall
has been reopened as a result of Christ’s descent to earth as a human being.
Mary is the vessel which allowed Christ to do this. Romanos draws atten-
tion to the fact that it is through the motherhood of Mary, who is herself
described as a gate, perhaps conjuring up images of a hortus conclusus (and
yet it is the image of opening that is the more dominant), that the door to
heaven is opened.77
By referring to the biblical type of the closed gate (Ezekiel 44:1–
3), Romanos also stresses Mary’s perpetual virginity, which, as we saw
above, is an important aspect of her role as the second Eve. Likewise, in
line 8 Romanos uses a biblical reference to focus on the significance of
Mary’s continuing virginity. The imagery of Mary’s purity as a treasure
(thesauron) which is never stolen (klapeisa) refers to Matthew 6:19–20,
in which Jesus instructs people not to store up treasures (thesaurous) on
earth, which thieves can steal (kleptai), but treasures in heaven. In this
sense, Romanos argues that virginity is a heavenly treasure rather than
an earthly one.78 One effect is to place the human Mary on the heavenly
side of the equation, allowing her to function as the second Eve to Christ’s
second Adam.
77 Arentzen (2014), 139.
78 On the debate about virginity and marriage in Byzantium, see Cameron (1989), Hunter
(1987), (1989), Meyendorff (1990).
83
Metaphor 83
These metaphors are, of course, firmly grounded in the biblical tradition.

Jesus calls himself a gate in John’s Gospel (10: 8–10):
‘… I am the gate for the sheep. All who came before me are thieves and bandits; but
the sheep did not listen to them. I am the gate. Whoever enters by me will be saved,
and will come in and go out and find pasture. The thief comes only to steal and kill
and destroy. I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly.’
Christ is the door to salvation, the pathway on which those who wish to be
saved should travel. He opens up new life to all who would enter it through
him. Romanos responds to the language of the Gospel in On the Nativity
I, highlighting that redemption of humanity and their restoration to para-
dise comes through Christ, who came to give humans eternal life. He asso-
ciates Mary with this imagery, picking up on patristic theology about the
Theotokos, and augments New Testament imagery with images and met-
aphors from the Old Testament to demonstrate the consistency of God’s
saving promises.
Old Testament resonances also abound in passages where the cross is the
central door to salvation. In this passage from On the Adoration of the Cross
the good thief crucified with Christ addresses the cross (XXIII.6.7–11):
You beautiful root of my resurrection life,
You rod of the blow which strikes the enemy of Adam,
You have opened the doors of delight, which sin once closed,
[the sin which] Adam then committed79
in paradise.
σὺ ῥίζα καλὴ τῆς ἀναστάσης μου ζωῆς·
σὺ ῥάβδος πληγὴς τύπτουσα ἐχθρὸν τοῦ Ἀδάμ·
σὺ τὰς θύρας ἤνοιξας τὰς τῆς τρυφῆς, ἃς ἀπέκλεισε ποτὲ
ἡ ἁμαρτία, ἥνπερ τότε ⟨ὁ⟩ Ἀδὰμ ἐπλημμέλησεν
ἐν τῷ παραδείσῳ.
The cross has opened the door to paradise, which was closed by the sin of
Adam. The cross does not simply represent Christ here. Romanos draws
attention to the fact that it is through the crucifixion of Christ that humans
are restored to paradise. The crucifixion is part of Christ’s correction
of Adam’s sin. The cross as a ‘beautiful root’ links it to the tree of life of
Genesis. In this passage there is an explicit reference to sin closing the door
to paradise. Sin closed the door and the cross opened it; Adam closed the
79 Baud-Bovy would no doubt be disappointed that I have been unable to think of a musical
translation for ἐπλημμέλησεν. He is determined that we should not lose sight of the fact that the
kontakia were sung: Baud-Bovy (1938b), 217.
84
door and Christ opened it. Once again, Christ is doing the addition and
getting the sums right, where Adam went wrong.80
Romanos’ images of opening have quite direct, literal force: paradise was
closed to humans because of Adam’s sin and Christ has opened it again by
correction of Adam’s sin, by being incarnated, living, suffering, dying and
being resurrected. By these actions, Christ summed up human life, correct-
ing the mistakes which had accrued from the Fall, and perfected human
nature to fit it for paradise.
Clothing and Nakedness

Romanos also explores these concepts of correction and perfection
through clothing and nakedness metaphors in On the Baptism of Christ
and On the Epiphany, drawing particularly on the Syriac tradition.
Sebastian Brock has explored this metaphor in Syriac texts and sets out
four stages of salvation history in which clothing plays a part:81 a) Adam
and Eve are clothed in a ‘robe of light’ in the garden;82 b) they are stripped
of their clothing at the Fall;83 c) God ‘puts on Adam’ in the incarnation;84
and d) at the baptism of Christ, Christ takes the garment of light and
places it in the river Jordan. This part of the scheme seems to be predom-
inantly Syriac.85 The initiate then retrieves the robe at their own baptism,
so that baptism is the moment at which Christians are reclothed in the
robe of light (or ‘glory’).86 This fits with Paul’s statement that baptism is
when Christians are clothed with Christ, although probably Paul never
envisaged quite such an elaborate interpretation of his words. Similarly,
Proclus of Constantinople refers to Adam’s robe of glory of which he was
stripped at the Fall.87
80 For this type of accounting imagery in Irenaeus of Lyons, see Osborn (2001), 97–110.
81 Brock (1982a), 12, Brock (1990), 66–72.
82 E.g. Ephrem Vir. 16.9; Par. 15.8–9. These examples refer to the robe of glory of which Adam
was stripped at the Fall.
83 See previous note. See also, for example, Ephrem Nat. 23.13 and his commentary on Genesis
11.14ff.
84 E.g. Ephrem Nis. 35.8.
85 Brock argues that this particular use of clothing metaphors is uniquely Syriac, since the Greek
theologians focus on the clothing of Adam and Eve in skins as they leave paradise. Nakedness
then becomes a symbol of purity for the Greeks. See Brock (1982a), 12, 22. There are early uses
of such phrases as ‘robe of glory’ in Assyrian and Akkadian literature. It is arguably present
in the Epic of Gilgamesh: Freedman (1972), 92. On the use of clothing imagery to mean
‘overwhelm’ first in Sumerian and Akkadian literature and then influencing Hebrew and Syriac
uses, see Waldman (1989).
86 Brock (1982a), 12.
87 PG 65.712D–713A. Cf. Constas (1995), 182–3 and passim.
85
Metaphor 85
In Romanos, as in Ephrem and other Syriac writers, nakedness refers

to human brokenness and clothing usually to Christ and perfection. In
On the Epiphany, Romanos combines images of blindness and nakedness
(VI.2.1–3):
When Adam was willingly maimed, having tasted the blind-making fruit,
straightaway he was unwillingly made naked. For, finding him, the
maiming one stripped him like a blind man.
So he was naked and maimed …
Ὅτε ἑκὼν ἐπηρώθη Ἀδὰμ καρποῦ γευσάμενος τυφλοποιοῦ
εὐθέως ἄκων ἐγυμνώθη· ὡς τυφλὸν γὰρ εὑρὼν
ὁ πηρώσας ἀπέδυσεν·
ἦν οὖν γυμνὸς καὶ πῆρος …
Although in Genesis it says that Adam and Eve came to ‘know’ or ‘realize’
that they were naked as a result of eating the fruit (Genesis 3:8), Romanos
refers to Adam being ‘stripped naked’ by the devil. The theme of ‘maiming’
likewise recurs in this passage. The devil is ‘the maimer’ who causes harm
to Adam as well as stripping him naked. Like the nakedness, this harm may
be physical but more importantly points to the harm done to mortals when
removed from their life with God. Nakedness is a metaphor for the fallen
state of humanity (V.2.1–2):
God did not overlook the one who was stripped by trickery
within paradise
and who lost the God-woven robe.
Οὐχ ὑπερεῖδεν ὁ θεὸς τὸν δόλῳ συληθέντα
ἐντὸς τοῦ παραδείσου·
καὶ ἀπολελωκότα τὴν θεοΰφαντον στολήν·
Adam was clothed in a ‘God-woven robe’ before he was tempted by the

devil. The devil’s deception and his sin left him naked when he left the gar-
den. A precise explanation of the robe is not forthcoming, but the point
is clearly made: Adam was clothed by God in the garden, but is unworthy
of such clothing after his temptation and sin. The robe here is a metaphor
for Adam’s purity, and nakedness for his fallen and sinful state. Romanos
reverses the Genesis story, in which Adam and Eve were ‘naked, and were
not ashamed’ (2:25) in the garden and only when they sinned did they
need clothing.88 God then sends them out of the garden clothed in skins
(Genesis 3:21).
88 In the Genesis account, it was the realization of nakedness, rather than the nakedness itself
which caused Adam and Eve shame: Peterson (1993), 560.
86
For Romanos, nakedness, unlike the purity and innocence it symbol-

izes in Genesis, is a metaphor for human brokenness. When God becomes
human in Jesus Christ Romanos talks about him being stripped naked. In
On the Baptism of Christ, God tells Adam not to hide himself in the gar-
den ‘since because of you I am stripped naked and baptized’ (διὰ σὲ γὰρ
τὸν γυμνὸν γυμνοῦμαι καὶ βαπτίζομαι) (V.3.3).89 In the previous passage,
Romanos talks about Adam being stripped when he left the garden. In
order to recall him, Christ is stripped naked. He thus takes on humanity, in
all its brokenness, and corrects the brokenness. The metaphor of nakedness
is about correcting Adam’s sin.
But it is also about restoring humans to perfection. Jesus is stripped
naked in order to perfect human existence and return humanity to its for-
mer, ‘clothed’ state. So, at the opening of On the Baptism of Christ, Romanos
speaks, in Pauline fashion, of ‘putting on Christ’ (V.1.6–8):
On account of which, come, all those who are naked from Adam,
let us put [Christ] on in order that we might be warmed.
For [he is] shelter for the naked and daylight for those in darkness.
διὸ οἱ ἐξ Ἀδὰμ γυμνοὶ δεῦτε πάντες,
ὑποδύωμεν αὐτὸν ἵνα θαλφθῶμεν·
σκέπη γὰρ γυμνοῖς καὶ αἴγλη ἐσκοτισμένοις
And Romanos keeps emphasizing this through repetition of ‘naked’. He

conjures up an amusing image of shivering naked people putting on the
nice warm woollens of Christ, keeping the imagery real and vivid: being
naked means being cold. Separation from God becomes an image not
unlike homelessness: cold, dark and alone. Humans are naked as a result
of Adam’s sin (and continued human sin). Christ comes as a garment for
naked humanity, to clothe, warm and enlighten them in their dark and sin-
ful state. Here Romanos refers to Paul’s letter to the Galatians (3:27): ‘As
many of you as were baptised into Christ have clothed yourselves in Christ.’
Baptism is the moment when Christians are ‘clothed in Christ’.90 As we have
seen, this passage greatly influenced Syriac theologians, and this in turn
suggests influence of Syriac theology on Romanos.91
89 On the conflation of time that this passage suggests, see Chapter 4 below.

90 This is thought, by Anson (among others), to be part of the motivation of cross-dressing
saints: Anson (1974), 7. On gender identity in such stories, see Davis (2002).
91 Although the use of clothing imagery was, of course, not exclusive to Syriac writers. Justinian
himself used clothing imagery in his edict on the Three Chapters Controversy. Nakedness is a
negative image, likened to those who dishonour the council, and the veiling of nakedness is a
positive image. See Albertella et al. (1973), 100, Price (2009), 151.
87
Metaphor 87
In On the Epiphany Romanos changes the metaphor slightly, and sug-

gests that Christ’s incarnation (and revelation as God in his baptism) tears
away the human mourning robe, with which humanity was clothed after
the Fall. The idea of a mourning robe suggests that humans have been in a
state of lament – often a sign of recognition of sinfulness and consequent
repentance in early Christian literature – since leaving paradise and being
removed from God.92 Tearing away the mourning robe is a metaphor for
the reunification of humans with God; Christ provides humans instead
with a white robe (VI.12.1–2):
Now the mourning garment is torn, we have received the white robe
which the Spirit wove for us from the holy wool of the lamb and our God.
Ῥήγνυται νῦν ὁ πενθήρης χιτών·
ἐλάβομεν τὴν στολὴν τὴν λευκήν,
ἣν ὕφανεν ἡμῖν τὸ πνεῦμα ἀπὸ πόκων ἁγνῶν
τοῦ ἀμνοῦ καὶ θεοῦ ἡμῶν.
Once again, humanity is restored to its ‘God-woven robe’ and to proper,

consummated, communion with God. The image of the Lamb of God being
shorn to provide garments for mortals is rather amusing, and is perhaps an
example of humour helping to communicate ideas. But, most importantly,
we see the involvement of the three persons of the Trinity in the reclothing
of humanity. Father, Son and Spirit are all involved in reclothing human-
ity, in restoring humanity to relationship with God. This restoration and
consummation of the relationship between God and humanity is achieved
through correction of human sin.
The clothing and nakedness metaphors of these two hymns on divine
revelation (On the Baptism of Christ and On the Epiphany) illustrate
Romanos’ concept of the process from the Fall to Christ’s restoration of
humanity to eternal life. Adam was clothed in a ‘God-woven robe’ in par-
adise, which he lost when he sinned. He was stripped and sent out of the
garden into hardship and death. Nakedness evokes Adam’s sinfulness and
separation from God. Romanos then uses this image to depict Christ tak-
ing on human form and entering into the depths of human brokenness.
Christ is likewise stripped, but this time willingly. He takes on human
nakedness in order to correct the wrongs done by Adam. The restoration
of mortals to their former clothed state is a metaphor for Christ’s perfec-
tion of humanity.
92 For a detailed study of repentance in late antiquity, see Torrance (2013).

8
For Romanos, drawing on Greek and Syriac traditions, nakedness is

a metaphor for human sin and departure from God, whereas clothing
signifies a return to proper relationship with God and perfect exist-
ence in paradise. Christ takes on nakedness, correcting human sin. He
reclothes humanity, perfecting human life. The metaphor of naked-
ness embodies the incarnation in a way in which other descriptions or
explanations could not. Romanos does not view the incarnation as a
sanitary, neat transaction, but concludes rather that Christ enters into
the dirt and depravity of humanity. The image of God being stripped
naked conveys this and thus emphasizes the truly radical event which
is taking place. The clothing metaphor also points to the inaugura-
tion of a new creation (reclothing of humanity) and final restoration
of humanity to relationship with God (removing the mourning robe
which represents the separation between humans and God). We will
look further at these aspects of Romanos’ theology in Chapters 3
and 4.
Blindness
Nakedness, as we saw above, is sometimes linked with blindness; both are
metaphors for human sinfulness. Adam is described as blind and Romanos
refers to his restoration to perfect humanity as a revelation of light and a
restoration of sight (VI.1.1):
A Sun from Bethlehem shone on blinded Adam in Eden.
Τῷ τυφλωθέντι Ἀδὰμ ἐν Ἐδὲμ ἐφάνη ἥλιος ἐκ Βηθλεέμ
Eden and Adam are in darkness, and the Sun (Christ), coming from
Bethlehem, restores the light to them. Associations between blindness and
sin abound in the kontakia. In On Mary at the Cross, Mary calls those who
kill Jesus blind (XIX.15.5–6):
I will look on the daring of those who honour Moses.
For they say it is to avenge him that these blind men came to kill you.
κατίδω τὴν τόλμαν τῶν τιμώντων τὸν Μωσῆν·
αὐτὸν γὰρ ὡς δῆθεν ἐκδικοῦντες οἱ τυφλοὶ κτεῖναι σε ἦλθον.
Those ‘who honour Moses’ are the Jews, whom Romanos calls ‘blind’
because in their determination to protect their prophet they did not recog-
nize their own Messiah. We will look further at Romanos’ characterization
of the Jews in Chapter 3.
89
Metaphor 89
So, ignorance or lack of recognition are figured as blindness. Death and

the devil are so labelled in On the Victory of the Cross for their inability to
recognize either Christ as God or the significance of Christ’s crucifixion
(XXII.7.1–3):
And suddenly Hades cried out to the devil,
Sight-maimed to one who does not see, blind to the blind, he said, ‘Look.
You are walking in darkness. Grope about, lest you fall …’
Ἔκραζε δὲ ἄθροον πρὸς τὸν διάβολον Ἅιδης·
πῆρος τῷ μὴ βλέποντι, τυφλὸς τυφλῷ λέγει· ‘Βλέψον·
ἐν σκότει πορεύει, ψηλάφα μὴ πέσῃς…’
This seems to be a case of the blind leading the blind! Romanos creates this
comical situation to demonstrate that both Hades and the devil missed the
fact that Christ was the incarnate God. Darkness and blindness go together
as metaphors for ignorance.
The guards at Christ’s tomb in On the Resurrection II deliberately fashion
themselves as blind (XXV.16.1–2):
What we know, this we also set forth,
for even if we kept these things silent now,
the stones will cry out and betray our hardness and blindness.
Ὅπερ] οἴδαμεν, τοῦτο καὶ δηλοῦμεν·
κἂν ἡμεῖς γὰρ αὐτὰ νῦν σιωπῶμεν,
[[οἱ]] λίθοι κράξουσι καὶ ἐλέγξουσι τὴν πώρωσιν
ἡμῶν καὶ τὴν τύφλωσιν·
This kontakion was likely sung on Easter Sunday and Romanos draws on
the Gospel account of that resurrection day in Matthew 28:11–15:
… some of the guard went into the city and told the chief priests everything that
had happened. After the priests had assembled with the elders, they devised a plan
to give a large sum of money to the soldiers, telling them, ‘You must say, “His dis-
ciples came by night and stole him away while we were asleep.” If this comes to the
governor’s ears, we will satisfy him and keep you out of trouble.’ So they took the
money and did as they were directed. And this story is still told among the Jews to
this day.
Romanos takes this passage and creates an imaginative dialogue around

it to explore the reality of the resurrection. Since the guards were not
supposed to speak, he has them refer to the Gospel of Luke (19:40) in
which Jesus says to the Pharisees who want him to stop the crowd from
praising him that the stones would cry out if the people were silent. In
90
this case, the stones would cry out about the resurrection if the guards
did not speak. They tell the story despite being determined to remain
blind – they have been paid for this purpose by the Jews (XXV.20).
Unlike Adam (and even Hades and the devil), the guards remain blind
of their own free will.
Vision was considered to be both a tactile sense and a true one – a
sense which did not corrupt the essence of the thing observed. No doubt
this high evaluation of sight was partly a function of the overlap in Greek
between words for knowing and seeing. This connection was bolstered by
physical theories of how people see. Extramission was a prominent con-
ceptualization of sight in late antique thought. According to this theory,
optical rays come out from the eyes, touch the object being looked at, and
take back the essence of the object to the eyes.93 The Pythagoreans and
Euclid were among the proponents of this conceptualization of vision.94
Even for someone like Lucretius, who did not believe in extramission,
sight and touch were connected.95 He argues that an object handled in
the dark will be recognized as the same object when seen in the light
(De rer. nat. 4.230). This close connection between sight and touch con-
tinued in Christian late antiquity. A suppliant to the monk Paphnutius
says: ‘[May] the man who is setting out to your piety be found worthy
to embrace [Paphnutius] also with [his] very eyes.’96 Unlike hearing
or smell, sight was believed to be able to translate the object of sight
directly to the person seeing,97 without any interference. Its purity was
emphasized in contrast to the other physical senses. For Christians in
late antiquity, sight was considered to be a link to God.98 Georgia Frank
draws attention to this in relation to pilgrimage. One of the reasons why
Christians travelled far to see ascetic holy men was the hope that by gaz-
ing upon the monk, who had a special connection to God, they would
see God and gain true knowledge of him.99 Such conceptualizations of
sight demonstrate the negative associations of blindness for Romanos’
audience. Blindness disables a pure way of understanding the world and
a true connection to God.
93 Nelson (2000), 152. See also James (2004), 528. And see further in Chapter 4.
94 Bartsch (2006), 62.
95 See Bartsch (2006), 59–60. Plato’s concept of vision is more complex, but involves light flowing
from the eyes to the object, as well as light in the object and in the surrounding air. The eyes
still have an active role to play. See Timaeus 45ff. See also Betz (1979), 53.
96 Quoted in Frank (2000), 14.
97 Nelson (2000), 154.
98 On the power of sight in relation to the cult of the saints and the sanctification of their shrines,
see Hahn (1997), 1079–106.
99 Frank (2000), 86.
91
Metaphor 91
Linked to Adam’s blindness is the (similarly biblical) image of darkness.

Adam is in darkness, Christ is in light. The second Adam brings the first out
of darkness and into eternal light (VI.1.4–9):
For him night is no longer, but all is day.
The moment of dawn is born for him,
for it was in the evening that he was hidden, as it is written.
The one who fell at evening has found the illuminating ray.
He was delivered from darkness and hurries towards the dawn,
which has appeared and illumined all things.
οὐκέτι αὐτῷ νύξ, ἀλλὰ πάντα ἡμέρα·
τὸ πρὸς πρωῒ πρωῒ δι’ αὐτὸν ἐγεννήθη·
δειλινὸν γὰρ ἐκρύβη, ὡς γέγραπται·
εὗρεν αὐγὴν φωτίζουσαν αὐτὸν ὁ πρὸς ἑσπέραν πεσών·
ἀπηλλάγη τοῦ γνόφου καὶ προέφθασε πρὸς ὄρθρον
τὸν φανέντα καὶ φωτίσαντα πάντα.
Romanos layers image upon image in this passage, associating Christ with light,
appearance, illumination, day and dawn, and Adam with being hidden, with
darkness, evening and night. Day is a metaphor for sinlessness, for perfection
and restoration to paradise; night is a metaphor for sin and separation from
God. This is once again about correction and perfection. The faults of the one
who ‘fell at evening’ have been corrected and there is no longer any evening,
but only day: Christ has imparted perfection to the human race. Perfection in
this metaphor is restoration of a very physical thing: sight. Romanos argues
that the physical creation is good and worth perfecting. Romanos also alludes
to the illumination which takes place in baptism by his use of forms of ‘illu-
mine’ (lines 7 and 9).100 Believers come to ‘see the light’ through baptism.
The Senses
While sight is prominent in the kontakia, Romanos also uses all the other
senses. On the Nativity II Romanos presents a ‘sensory awakening’.101 In
this kontakion, while Mary murmurs to the Christ-child, her ancestor Eve
awakes. Eve straightaway recognizes the significance of Christ’s birth and
tries to wake her husband, Adam. Adam is not very responsive. He distrusts
the voice he hears – it led him astray once before! Eventually he wakes him-
self up and acknowledges that his wife was right, but not before Romanos
100 On φωτίζω as enlightenment through baptism, see definition 4.b.viii in Lampe (1961), 1509.
101 I am indebted to Frank (2005), 167–8. For an analysis of this kontakion, see Barkhuizen
(2008b), 1–22.
92
has taken him through the different senses, waking them up one by one
(II.5.1–10):
Adam, on hearing the words which his wife wove,
straightaway putting aside the burden from his eyelids
shakes his head as from sleep,
and, opening his ear, that which he silenced through an unwillingness to
hear, cries out thus:
‘I hear a sweet-toned noise, a delightful warbling,
but the voice of the song now does not delight me,
for it is the woman whose voice I fear,
I am in a trial, therefore I fear the feminine.
The sound enchants me since it is sweet-toned, but the instrument terrifies me,
lest, as of old, it leads me astray, bringing disgrace …’
Ἀδὰμ ἀκούσας τοὺς λόγους, οὓς ὕφανεν ἡ σύζυγος,
ἐκ τῶν βλεφάρων τὸ βάρος εὐθέως ἀποθέμενος
ἀνανεύει ὡς ἐξ ὕπνου,
καὶ οὖς ἀνοίξας, ὃ ἔφραξε παρακοῇ, οὕτως βοᾷ·
‘Λιγυροῦ ἀκούω κελαδήματος, τερπνοῦ [[δὲ]] μινυρίσματος·
ἀλλὰ τοῦ μελίσματος νῦν ὁ φθόγγος οὐ τέρπει με·
γυνὴ γάρ ἐστι ἧς καὶ φοβοῦμαι τὴν φωνήν·
ἐν πείρᾳ εἰμί· ὅθεν τὸ θῆλυ δειλιῶ·
ὁ μὲν ἦχος θέλγει με ὡς λιγυρός, τὸ ὄργανον δὲ δονεῖ,
μὴ ὡς πάλαι με πλανήσῃ ἐπιφέρουσα ὄνειδος …’
The sensory focus of this strophe is sight and hearing. Initially Adam hears
the words (line 1). Then Romanos shifts to sight: Adam’s eyes are burdened,
but he puts aside this burden because of what he has heard (2). In line 4 he
opens his eyes, but now his ears are closed (parakoē), a word associated with
disobedience: Adam refuses to hear, or he is unwilling and resistant to hear-
ing. Line 5 contrasts those following it. He does hear, but thinks it unwise
to listen (6–8). In fact, he is afraid to use his senses. The reason becomes
clear in the last few lines: the senses led him astray before. He is enchanted
by the sweetness of the sound, but recognizes the instrument which makes
it and recalls that that voice led him to sin and to be thrown out of paradise.
Therefore he distrusts the senses. Adam does not yet realize that his senses
(his humanity) have been renewed by what he is about to see and hear.
In reply to her husband’s unwillingness to listen, Eve says (II.6):
‘Be fully assured, my husband, by the words of your wife,
for you will not again find me advising you of bitter things.
For the old things have passed away,
and Christ the son of Mary makes all things new.
93
Metaphor 93
Smell his scent and straightaway bloom

like an upright ear of corn. For the spring has overtaken you.
Jesus Christ breathes out like a sweeter breeze.
Through whom, escaping the harsh burning heat,
come, follow me to Mary, and take hold of her undefiled
feet with me now, and straightaway she will have mercy,
the highly favoured one.’
Πληροφορήθητι, ἄνερ, τοῖς λόγοις τῆς συζύγου σου·
οὐ γὰρ εὑρήσεις με πάλιν πικρά σοι συμβουλεύουσαν·
τὰ ἀρχαῖα γὰρ παρῆλθε,
καὶ νέα πάντα δείκνυσιν ὁ τῆς Μαριὰμ γόνος Χριστός·
τούτου τῆς νοτίδος ὀσφράνθητι καὶ εὐθέως ἐξάνθησον
ὡς στάχυς ὀρθότητι· τὸ γὰρ ἔαρ σε ἔφθασε·
Ἰησοῦς Χριστὸς πνέει ὡς αὔρα γλυκερά·
τὸ καῦσος οὗ ἀποφυγὼν τὸν αὐστηρόν,102
δεῦρο ἀκολούθει μοι πρὸς Μαριάμ, καὶ τῶν ἀχράντων αὐτῆς
ποδῶν ἅψαι σὺν ἐμοὶ νῦν, καὶ εὐθέως σπλαγχνισθήσεται
ἡ κεχαριτωμένη.
Eve recognizes the renewal of their senses: the senses are associated with
sweetness and spring imagery. She contrasts bitter and sweet: the old cre-
ation is bitter, the new is sweet. Eve implores Adam to listen (1), explain-
ing to him that things have changed, that womankind has been redeemed
(2) and that the senses which led him astray will not do so again, since
Christ and Mary have renewed everything (3–4). This includes, although
Eve does not explicitly say so, the senses which Adam was afraid to use in
the previous strophe. Eve then tells Adam to use his sense of smell, to catch
the scent of Christ (5). Catching this scent is then followed by a few differ-
ent physical images: of growth and flourishing, of feeling the sweet wind
that Christ breathes out, and escaping the heat of hell. Adam and Eve will be
restored to pleasant sensations and to abundant life. Finally, Eve mentions
touch (and perhaps by implication sight as well): they will go and see Mary
and grasp hold of her (9–10).
Adam replies, acknowledging his renewed senses (II.7),
‘I recognise, O wife, the spring and I perceive the delight,
from which we fell long ago. For I also see another new paradise:
the Virgin, bearing in her bosom
the tree of life itself, which holy thing at some point
102 I have followed the SC edition here, since it seems to make more sense than the reading
offered by the Oxford edition. The Oxford edition prints τὸ καῦσος οὗ ἦς ἀποφυγὼν τὸ
αὐστηρὸν.
94
the Cherubim protected so that I did not touch it.

But now this untouched thing I see growing,
I perceived a breeze, wife, a life-making one,
which gave me breath, me being dust and breathless clay.
Now, being strengthened by its fragrance,
I am carried towards the blooming flower of our life,
the highly favoured one.’
Ἔγνων, ὦ γύναι, τὸ ἔαρ καὶ τῆς τρυφῆς αἰσθάνομαι,
ἧς ἐξεπέσαμεν πάλαι· καὶ γὰρ ὁρῶ παράδεισον
νέον ἄλλον τὴν παρθένον
φέρουσαν κόλποις αὐτὸ τὸ ξύλον τῆς ζωῆς, ὅπερ ποτὲ
Χερουβὶμ ἐτήρει τὸ ἅγιον πρὸς τὸ μὴ ψαῦσαι με·
τοῦτο τοίνυν ἄψαυστον ἐγὼ βλέπων φυόμενον
ᾐσθόμην πνοῆς, σύζυγε, τῆς ζωοποιοῦ,
τῆς κόνιν ἐμὲ ὄντα καὶ ἄψυχον πηλὸν
ποιησάσης ἔμψυχον· ταύτης νυνὶ τῇ εὐοσμίᾳ ῥωσθεὶς
πορευθῶ πρὸς τὴν ἀνθοῦσαν τὸν καρπὸν τῆς ζωῆς ἡμῶν,
τὴν κεχαριτωμένην.
This strophe is full of words related to seeing and perceiving. Adam’s

eyes have literally been opened by the incarnation, and now he is able
to see Mary, who is the new paradise, the new Eden, who holds within
her the new Tree of Life: Christ. After the Fall, the Cherubim guarded
the Tree of Life against Adam. In lines 5 to 7 he refers to Christ as the
untouchable one who has now become visible (and therefore toucha-
ble), as a result of the incarnation. Adam also feels a breeze which he
associates with the life-giving breath of the first creation: the new cre-
ation mimics the first. Finally, Adam draws attention to smell: the fra-
grance of Christ sustains and strengthens him. In fact, sweet fragrance
here is even more powerful – it carries Adam along to meet Mary and
her child.
Throughout these three strophes of On the Nativity II, Romanos sets
up an extended awakening of Adam’s senses. The physical senses Adam
mistrusts initially become the way in which God in Christ is revealed
to him, once again emphasizing the goodness of God’s creation. The
senses were all part of the originally perfect creation of human nature.
As they are healed and made perfect anew, human nature is remade
again to be fit for heaven. The perfected senses are once again vehi-
cles for human–divine interaction. Through the second Adam, human
nature is corrected and perfected, recreating the bond between God and
humanity.
95
Metaphor 95
Thirst and Hunger
The brokenness of humanity is also figured by thirst and hunger, and their
cure is a metaphor for the perfection of humanity. In On the Nativity I,
Mary relieves the thirst of Adam and David because she has given birth to
Christ (I.1.5–8):
There [i.e. in Bethlehem] is found an undug spring,
from which David once desired to drink.
There a virgin, giving birth to a child,
straightaway stops the thirst of Adam and David.
ἐκεῖ ηὑρέθη φρέαρ ἀνόρυκτον,
οὗ πιεῖν Δαβὶδ πρὶν ἐπεθύμησεν·
ἐκεῖ παρθένος τεκοῦσα βρέφος
τὴν δίψαν ἔπαυσεν εὐθὺς τὴν τοῦ Ἀδὰμ καὶ τοῦ Δαβίδ·
This passage alludes to 2 Samuel (23:13–17), in which David wishes to drink

at the well of Bethlehem. Three of his men break through the Philistine camp
and bring back some water, but David refuses to drink it, saying that it is the
blood of the three men who risked their lives to get it. Lifeblood is for God
alone, so David pours it out as a sacrifice.103 This is a type for Christ’s sacrifice
on the cross: Christ is the well and the ‘blood’ is Christ’s which, through the
crucifixion and eucharist, quenches the thirst of Adam, David and all human-
ity. Christ’s thirst-quenching ability is reminiscent of the story of the Samaritan
woman (cf. John 4 and Romanos’ kontakion IX), in which Christ offers the
woman water which will quench her thirst forever. He is this living water.
As we have seen, a key feature of Romanos’ imagery is its excess. This
passage also resonates with the story of the Israelites thirsting in the desert
(Exodus 17:1– 7). The Israelites complained of unbearable thirst; God
caused water to come forth from a rock to save them. This was also an
‘undug spring’ which quenched the thirst of David’s ancestors when they
desired to drink. The image of Mary as the ‘undug spring’ also recalls the
passage from Song of Songs (4:12) which refers to a locked garden and a
sealed fountain. The excess of resonances represents the overflowing excess
of God’s saving actions for humanity.
The reference to Adam is again a reference to all broken humanity, and
thirst a metaphor for human need, which can only truly be met by Christ.
In fact, Christ stops this need. By becoming the second Adam he enables the
divinization of humanity, and so renders human bodily needs irrelevant.
103 Robinson (1993), 280.

96
Similarly, hunger is human sin in On the Beheading of John the Baptist

(XXXVIII.18.8–11):
And we are Christ’s,
who willingly fasted and so took away from us
the ancient hunger, which Adam craved for
as a transient pleasure.
ἡμεῖς δὲ Χριστοῦ
τοῦ νηστεύσαντος βουλήσει καὶ ἀφελόντος ἡμῶν
τὴν πεῖναν τὴν ἀρχαίαν, ἣν ἐπείνασεν Ἀδὰμ
διὰ τέρψιν τὴν πρόσκαιρον.
The transient pleasures of Adam, bodily delights connected with sin, right-
fully come to an end in Christ’s redemption of humanity. Romanos con-
trasts Christ’s obedience and holiness with Adam’s disobedience and excess.
Christ’s fasting recapitulates Adam’s excessive physical hunger, transform-
ing it into a spiritual hunger for God.
Writing
The perfection and correction of humanity is fundamentally achieved in
God’s forgiveness of human sin. We have seen that, in On the Adoration of
the Cross, Romanos makes the cross into an inscription, a royal pardon for
the good thief (XXIII.11.1–2, 5–6). In On Peter’s Denial, Romanos refers to
that forgiveness as a legal written pardon, inscribed on Christ’s body. Christ
says to Peter (XVIII.7.5–10):
For taking a pen in this [hand], I begin to write
forgiveness for all who come from Adam.
My flesh which you see will become like papyrus for me,
and my blood [like] black [ink],104 where I dip [my pen] and write,
allotting the perpetual gift to those who cry,
‘Hurry, holy one, save your flock.’
ταύτῃ γὰρ κάλαμον λαβὼν ἄρχομαι γράφειν
συγχώρησιν πᾶσι τοῖς ἐκ τοῦ Ἀδάμ·
ἡ σάρξ μου ἣν ὁρᾷς ὥσπερ χάρτης γίνεται μοί,
καὶ τὸ αἷμα μου μέλαν, ὅθεν βάπτω καὶ γράφω
δωρεὰν νέμων ἀδιάδοχον τοῖς κράζουσι·
‘σπεῦσον, σῶσον, ἅγιε, τὴν ποίμνην σου.’
104 Literally ‘black’, but I think ink is what is meant here. See Lash’s translation of this hymn: Lash
(1995), 132.
97
Metaphor 97
God as the Word inscribes his pardon of humanity upon his own flesh.
Romanos makes a clever intertextual word play when he chooses kalamos
(the word for the stick used to strike Jesus and to give him sour wine) as
his pen.105 Christ’s flesh is a metaphor for his death, for the crucifixion. By
his death on the cross, Christ obtains a universal pardon for human sin. In
line 8 Romanos has Christ talk about his blood, with which he will write the
pardon on his flesh. It is through this bloody ink that Christ allots the per-
petual gift of salvation. As Krueger points out, this passage also has smat-
terings of legal vocabulary associated with pardoning.106 ‘Forgiveness’ here
is synchōrēsis, the word for a legal pardon, and ‘allotting’ (nemōn) was used
of judges dealing out punishments or pardons. The legal metaphor makes
it more vivid for the congregation, who may well have been familiar with
such vocabulary from civic duties or imperial decrees. Pardoning suggests
correction of wrongs and perfection of humanity, bringing humans into a
different relationship with God.
Another important referent in this metaphor is the eucharist. Through
references to flesh and blood Romanos makes his congregation recall
their participation in the eucharist and that it is through the eucharist
(which is itself a participation in Christ’s death and resurrection) that
they are saved.107
Doctoring and Illness

Just as he uses legal imagery to appeal to certain groups in his congregation,
so Romanos also makes use of medical metaphors.108 The doctoring or sur-
gery of Christ (Christ’s redemptive actions) is contrasted with the ill-health
(sin and brokenness) of Adam. Medical healing was closely associated with
spiritual healing in Byzantium and therefore, as Krueger points out, medi-
cal imagery was not uncommonly used in theological writings.109 Romanos
fits into this tradition.
In On the Crucifixion, Romanos makes Christ’s body into a surgery from
which he heals Adam’s illness (XXI.1.1–3):
105 Krueger (2003), 5, (2004), 161.

106 Krueger (2003), 5.
107 Romanos may also be making use of the belief that the writings of a holy man were sacred.
On which, see Rapp (2007), 194–222.
108 On the use of medical imagery in Romanos, and its significance in Byzantine society more
generally, see Krueger (2010), 119–30. See also Barkhuizen (1993), 45–7, Mulard (2011), 290–
377, Schork (1960).
109 Krueger (2010), 121–8. Ephrem the Syrian, for example, associated Christ with medical
healing: Murray (2006), 200.
98
Seeing the surgery of Christ opened

and from it health gushing forth for Adam
the devil suffered – he was stung …
τὸ τοῦ Χριστοῦ ἰατρεῖον βλέπων ἀνεῳγμένον
καὶ τὴν ἐκ τούτου τῷ Ἀδὰμ πηγάζουσαν ὑγείαν
ἔπαθεν, ἐπλήγη ὁ διάβολος …
The devil watches the crucifixion and sees the body of Christ as a doctor’s
rooms. Christ’s body is opened – pierced by the staff – and salvation gushes
out for Adam. Romanos uses a medical metaphor to talk about the recur-
ring theme of Christ’s correction and perfection of human life, his redemp-
tion of broken humanity. Christ corrects Adam’s sin: sin is sickness, and it
is healed by Christ’s crucifixion and resurrection. This is also the perfection
of human life, restoring humanity to the image of the divine. We also see
imagery of redemption and punishment again: Adam is redeemed (cured)
and the devil is punished (stung, wounded).
This type of medical imagery is used extensively in On Mary at the
Cross.110 In strophes 9 and 10, Christ explains to Mary why he must die:
because of Adam’s sickness (XIX.10.1–6):
Because of profligacy, because of gluttony,
Adam became sick and was carried down to lowest Hades,
and there he mourns the pain of his soul.
And Eve, having once taught him disorder,
groans with him. For with him she is sick,
so that together they might learn to keep the doctor’s orders.
Ὑπὸ ἀσωτίας, ὑπ’ ἀδηφαγίας
ἀρρωστήσας ὁ Ἀδὰμ κατηνέχθη ἕως Ἅιδου κατωτάτου
καὶ ἐκεῖ τὸν τῆς ψυχῆς πόνον δακρύει.
Εὔα δὲ ἡ τοῦτον ἐκδιδάξασα ποτὲ τὴν ἀταξίαν
σὺν τούτῳ στενάζει· σὺν αὐτῷ γὰρ ἀρρωστεῖ,
ἵνα μάθωσιν ἅμα τοῦ φυλάττειν ἰατροῦ παραγγελίαν·
Adam and Eve’s sin is presented as one of gluttony and it causes physical
illness:111 they gorged themselves on the fruit in the garden and now have
terrible stomach aches. Romanos sees their sickness as a means of instruc-
tion, a way of teaching them to follow God’s precepts. And these orders are
the same for all humanity: keep away from sin and live. Living the life of
Christ is the healthy way; sin leads to illness, pain and death.
110 See Krueger (2010), 120–1.

111 Krueger (2010), 120.
9
Metaphor 99
Later Christ explains how he will cure the sick Adam and all humanity
(XIX.13.2–4):
… I dress like a doctor112 and come to the place where they lie,
and I treat their wounds,
cutting with a blade their calluses and scabs.
… καθάπερ ἰατρὸς ἀποδύομαι καὶ φθάνω ὅπου κεῖνται,
καὶ ἐκείνων τὰς πληγὰς περιοδεύω,
τέμνων ἐν τῇ λόγχῃ τὰ πωρώματα αὐτῶν καὶ τὴν σκληρίαν·
The descent into hell becomes a doctor’s visit.113 The doctoring image makes
sin into a callus which should be cut off from the body. The body needs to
be purged of the scabrous sin which has become attached to it. Skin dis-
eases were considered particularly representative of human sin in the New
Testament. Lepers were ostracized and their sin blamed for their disease.
Romanos makes use of this tradition in his presentation of humanity’s sin.
Through his imagery of disease and healing, Romanos preaches that the
actions of humanity are counteracted or ‘healed’ by Christ.
Romanos’ use of metaphor can mirror, embody and explain the resto-
ration of humanity in the person of Christ. The metaphor of Christ as the
gate which reopens paradise emphasizes that Christ, as the second Adam,
corrects the sin of the first Adam and returns humanity to paradise. By
using the metaphor of nakedness for human sinfulness, Romanos high-
lights the summing up (correcting and perfecting) of human existence
which Jesus does in his incarnation. When he assumed human nakedness,
Christ took on all the faults and sins of the human race, enabling humans
to be reclothed in sinlessness, in the ‘God-woven robe’. This metaphor also
draws attention to the union of humans with God which takes place in the
inauguration of the new creation and its consummation. The metaphors of
blindness and the senses, as well as illustrating correction and perfection,
generally signal the renewed goodness of the new creation: God has not
rejected his creation but comes to redeem it. This is also evident in the use
of hunger and thirst as metaphors for sinfulness. Through Christ human
sin is corrected and human bodily needs are perfected; bodily hunger is
replaced by spiritual hunger which is fed by Christ. Perfection in particular
is emphasized by both writing and doctoring metaphors: Christ pardons
and redeems humanity; Christ heals sick Adam.
112 Literally ‘as a doctor I strip off ’. Lash suggests doctors may have been naked in some cases. See
Lash (1995), 148 n. 28.
113 Krueger (2010), 120–1.
10
Conclusions
Romanos’ account of the restoration of humanity by Christ the second

Adam resonates with many strands of the earlier Christian tradition. It is
grounded in biblical arguments and imagery, most fundamentally drawing
on Paul. But Romanos’ use of biblical images also comes from the Gospels
and continually draws on Old Testament narratives to interpret and add
meaning to New Testament metaphors while displaying the consistency of
God’s promises throughout salvation history. The great exchange – that God
became human that humans might become God, seen clearly in Paul, elab-
orated on by Irenaeus and foundational for thinkers including Athanasius,
the Cappadocians and contemporary homilists – pervades Romanos’ kon-
takia. Romanos follows this tradition in claiming that God became human
in the person of Jesus Christ in order to correct human wrongs and per-
fect the human race; his emphasis on salvation in employing this connec-
tion between Adam and Christ also demonstrates his concern to proclaim
established orthodoxy about the nature of Christ.
Romanos uses typology to link Adam with Christ and Eve with Mary,
demonstrating that the latter corrects and fulfils the former. Adam and Eve
are made perfect through Christ (and, to a lesser extent, Mary). Similarly,
the cross on which Christ was crucified is linked, typologically, to the tree in
paradise, either redeeming the sin associated with the tree (of knowledge),
or restoring those taken away from the tree (of life) to their rightful place.
Typology rhetorically performs the summing up of humanity in the second
Adam and the consequent healing of human nature, since its two parts are
matched and mirrored without being made equivalent. In a similar way
structural and linguistic comparisons allow Romanos to demonstrate the
exchange which takes place.
The way metaphor operates also mimics this exchange, since it puts
one thing in terms of another while always preserving an excess of mean-
ing which maintains the transcendent gap between the saving God and
healed humanity. If metaphor is a speech act which creates the otherwise
unspeakable or unimaginable, the incarnation similarly is, for Romanos,
an event in human experience which alters human reality. Here, as else-
where, the form of metaphor performs the reality of the second Adam’s
salvific acts. Romanos makes use of multiple metaphors: opening, cloth-
ing, blindness, the senses more generally, thirst, writing and healing.
The correction of human sin is figured in the image of reopening par-
adise which had been closed by sin, in Christ’s assumption of human
nakedness, in the blindness of Adam which Christ turns into sight, in
10
Conclusions 101
the written pardon of human sins, in Christ’s healing of Adam’s illness.

These are inextricably linked with the perfection of humanity, to which
Romanos draws attention perhaps especially in the redemption of
Adam’s senses, the cure of human thirst and the cure of human sickness.
It is through Christ’s incarnation that the correction and perfection of
humanity are effected, and this is the inauguration of the new creation.
God did not abandon his first creation, but comes to redeem and renew
it. The reopening of paradise emphasizes this – the new creation is open
to humanity. Likewise, Romanos develops this theme through the meta-
phors of clothing, in which the reclothing of humanity enables the resto-
ration of proper relations between God and humanity; blindness and the
other senses, through which Romanos accentuates the goodness of God’s
creation; writing, in which the ‘perpetual gift’ signals a new reality. Once
again, these are closely connected to the concept of the consummation of
the final kingdom. Romanos argues that the final consummation of the
new reality is still to come and urges his congregation to watch and be
ready for it. The time before then is still a time of mourning, according
to the clothing metaphor, because of the separation between God and
humanity. But Christ will return to strip humanity of its garb of mourn-
ing and reclothe them in the ‘God-woven robe’.
102
3 The Second Creation: A New Reality

for Christians
So if anyone is in Christ, there is a new creation:

everything old has passed away; see, everything has become new.
2 Cor. 5:17
In his second epistle to the Church of Corinth the apostle Paul argued that
creation had been renewed through the incarnation, life, death and resur-
rection of Christ.1 Christ overcame sin and death and, through the resur-
rection, Christ recreates creation.2 He has reconciled the world to himself
(2 Cor. 5:19), so humans have a new relationship with God; there is a new
covenant, a new creation.3 This is a consistent Pauline theme. In the letter
to the Romans (6:4) Paul writes:
Therefore we have been buried with him by baptism into death, so that, just as
Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, so we too might walk in
newness of life.
This ‘newness of life’ is the changed world in which Christians are called to
participate. And the life they participate in is Christ’s life.4 Christians are
all too obviously not in paradise,5 but Paul demands this new way of living
in the new reality before paradise.6 The old creation and covenant are con-
nected with death, whereas the new creation is life (Romans 7:5–6).7
This concept of a second creation, a renewal of the old, was crucial for
Christian theology from the earliest theologians.8 Irenaeus argued that
as a result of the incarnation humans are now able to participate in para-
dise, in incorruption.9 God became human for this reason. The invisible
became visible so that humans might see it and be part of it. The idea

1
See also Galatians 6:15, Romans 7:6 and Ephesians 4:24.

2
Best (1987), 54.

3
Barnett (1997), 298.

4
Savage (1996), 177.

5
Paul believed there would only be a short period between Christ’s resurrection and his second
coming: Fredriksen (2000), 128.

6
Byrne (1996), 190.

7
See also Byrne (1996), 212.

8
See, for example, Justin Martyr’s Dialogue with Trypho XI, XXIV.
102
9
The Proof of the Apostolic Preaching section 31. See further Chapter 2, above.
103
The Second Creation: A New Reality for Christians 103
of new creation is bound up in that of new covenant for Irenaeus. The

covenant God made with the Hebrew people (the Law) is the old cove-
nant, and it has been surpassed by the new (Christian life as set out in the
Gospels), which renews and revitalizes the earth and human existence.10
God has made a fresh start, a new beginning, through the death of his son
on the cross.11
The themes of new creation, renewal and new identity in Christ also
colour the writings of theologians closer in time to Romanos. Cyril of
Alexandria explored such themes in his commentaries on Isaiah, vari-
ous other Old Testament prophets, the Gospels and the letters of Paul.
For Cyril, the new reality exists because of Christ, who has transformed
the old. In his commentary on the Gospel of John, Cyril argues that Paul
was right to claim that there is a new creation in 2 Corinthians 5:17:12
For he [Christ] renews us, and restores us to a certain newness of life, which is
untrodden and not worn out by others.13
ἀνακαινίζει γὰρ ἡμᾶς, καὶ ἀναπλάττει τρόπον τινὰ πρὸς καινότητα ζωῆς, ἀστιβῆ δὲ
καὶ τοῖς ἄλλοις οὐ τετριμμένην
Cyril’s belief in the new creation also informs his exegesis: God becom-
ing man is a world-changing event. Consequently, it makes no sense to
interpret the past without reference to the incarnation. For Cyril, in com-
mon with other early Christians, a christological interpretation of the Old
Testament is the only coherent one. So Old Testament figures like Abraham,
Joseph and Moses in different ways prefigure Christ and events from the
New Testament. The life of Christ is the fulfilment of all past events, which
have been looking forward to his coming.
Ephrem the Syrian speaks of the new covenant in his poem The Paradoxes
of the Incarnation (Res. 1.11.3–5):
From His own mouth He gave a new imprint,
giving us the New Covenant.
Blessed is its Giver!14
‫ܕܬܐ‬ ܰ ‫ܒܥ‬ ܽ ‫ܶܡܢ‬

ܳ ‫ܦܘ ܶܡܗ ܰܛ‬
ܴ ‫ܝ‬ ‫ܐ‬
ܰ ‫ܝܕ ܳܬܐ ܰܝܗ‬
‫ܠܢ‬ ‫ܒ‬ ܰ ‫ܕܝ ܺܬ ܺܩܐ‬
ܰ ‫ܰܕ‬
̱
ܺ
ܽ ‫ܒܪܝܟ ܳܝ‬
̇‫ܗܘ ܳܒܗ‬
10 See Against Heresies 4.9.1 and 5.33.1. See also Osborn (2001), 88.
11 Osborn (2001), 102.
12 See also Wilken (2003), 19–20.
13 Commentary on John 2.384, lines 13–15. See also Young (2003), 61. Young argues that Cyril
saw recreation as absolutely central to Paul’s theology.
14 Translation taken from Brock and Kiraz (2006), 87.
104
104 The Second Creation: A New Reality for Christians
In Genesis, the creation of the world is a speech act: God spoke and it hap-
pened. Ephrem fashions the new creation in the same way. And many of
Ephrem’s other compositions demonstrate the changes which have taken
place because of Christ, focusing either on the incarnation or the crucifixion.
The new creation is also mentioned in the Akathistos hymn, which
has been variously dated to between the fourth and the sixth centuries
(13.1–2):15
The Creator, having appeared, has revealed a new creation
to us, who were brought into being by him.16
Νέαν ἔδειξε κτίσιν ἐμφανίσας ὁ κτίστης
ἡμῖν τοῖς ὑπ’ αὐτοῦ γενομένοις17
In these lines the new creation is both Christ himself, who reveals himself
when he appears on earth, and a new order instituted when the Creator
appeared on earth as Jesus Christ.
All of these Christian thinkers believe that a radical change in reality
took place at the incarnation. There is a new creation. And yet they also wait
expectantly for the second coming of Jesus, which will change reality again
and restore humanity to paradise. Basil, among others, therefore argued for
three ‘creations’: creation from nothing, when God brought the universe
into being; the new creation instituted at the incarnation, when God made
reality better than it had been; and the final new creation, the resurrection
of the dead.18
From this necessarily brief excursus into early Christian thought, it should
be clear that there was a considerable tradition upon which Romanos could
draw for his conception of the new creation. For Romanos, the inauguration
of a new reality, a second creation, means a fundamental change in reality.
The incarnation, crucifixion and resurrection are events which transcend
normal temporal boundaries. The Old Testament world-view was governed
by prophecies, looking forward to the coming Messiah; the Old foretells the
New through typology. Now that the Messiah has come, in Christ, the time
of prophecy has come to an end. All previous history led up to the advent of
Christ: Christ fulfils and surpasses the old.
15 There is considerable debate over the date of this famous hymn. Most recently, Leena Mari
Peltomaa dates it to before 451, arguing that the descriptions of the incarnation, virgin
birth and the use of the term Theotokos are Ephesian in character and are clearly pre-
Chalcedonian: Peltomaa (2001), 100–1, 14. Against Peltomaa and in favour of the post-
Chalcedonian date, see Constas (2005), esp. 357–8.
16 See also 1.15–16.
17 Text used is Peltomaa (2001), 10.
18 Epistle 8. See also Wilken (1971), 164.
105
In On the Epiphany, key themes are paradise and renewal (VI.16):

He utterly obscured gloomy night and revealed everything as noon.
He shone upon the inhabited world, the light without evening,
Jesus our saviour.
The land of Zebulun is prosperous and imitates paradise,
for a torrent of luxury waters her,
and an ever-living river swells in her
which the first [people] did not find, although they dug
a well of the oath, the well of Sychem, but not the source of life.
But in Galilee we see the living spring:
the One who appeared and illuminated everything.
Νύκτα ἠφάνισε τὴν ἀμειδῆ καὶ ἔδειξε μεσημβρίαν τὸ πᾶν·
κατηύγασε τὴν οἰκουμένην τὸ ἀνέσπερον φῶς,
Ἰησοῦς ὁ σωτὴρ ἡμῶν·
χώρα Ζαβουλωνία ἔστιν ἐν εὐθηνίᾳ καὶ μιμεῖται παράδεισον·
ποτίζει γὰρ αὐτὴν τῆς τρυφῆς ὁ χειμάρρους,
καὶ βρύει ἐν αὐτῇ τὸ ἀείζωον νᾶμα,
ὃ οἱ πρῶτοι οὐχ εὗρον ὀρύξαντες
φρέαρ τοῦ ὅρκου, φρέαρ τῆς Συχέμ, ἀλλ’ οὐ πηγὴν τῆς ζωῆς·
ἐν δὲ τῇ Γαλιλαίᾳ φλέβα ζῶσαν θεωροῦμεν
This passage establishes Christ’s new reality as a second creation. This creation
is marked by transformation. The world was in perpetual darkness, perpetual
night, until Christ came along (lines 1–2). Christ transformed the night into
day, just as God separated night and day in the first creation (Genesis 1:1–5).
The first creation is a type for the second. The metaphors of perpetual night (i.e.
sinfulness) and everlasting day (i.e. redeemed perfect life) signal a fundamental
change in reality: Christ has transformed the world from one reality to its exact
opposite: night is hidden away and the eternal day is revealed. This change is
symbolic of other significant changes which take place in the new reality.
The change from sinfulness to perfection, symbolized by the transfor-
mation from darkness to light is emphasized by the reference to Zebulun’s
land.19 Zebulun was one of the sons of Jacob and Leah (Gen. 30:20), and
it was prophesized that he would settle by the sea and his land would be a
haven for ships (Gen. 49:13). His land was part of Galilee. Isaiah (9:1–2)
prophesies the glorification of Galilee, making reference to Zebulun:
But there will be no gloom for those who were in anguish. In the former time he
brought into contempt the land of Zebulun and the land of Naphtali, but in the
19 Romanos refers to the same prophecy in On the Baptism of Christ (V.1).

106
latter time he will make glorious the way of the sea, the land beyond the Jordan,
Galilee of the nations. The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light;
those who lived in a land of deep darkness – on them light has shined.
In Matthew’s Gospel (4:13–16), and for Romanos in the passage above,

Christ is the fulfilment of Isaiah’s prophecy:
He left Nazareth and made his home in Capernaum by the sea, in the territory of
Zebulun and Naphtali, so that what had been spoken through the prophet Isaiah
might be fulfilled: ‘Land of Zebulun, Land of Naphtali, on the road by the sea, across
the Jordan, Galilee of the Gentiles – the people who sat in darkness have seen a great
light, and for those who sat in the region and shadow of death light has dawned.’
Romanos’ reference to Zebulun recalls the prophecy and its fulfilment in

Christ and links these passages strongly through Christ’s role as the light
which conquers the darkness. Romanos draws on this prophecy for a kon-
takion celebrating the feast of the epiphany because of the imagery of light
and dark – it fits well with the revelation of Jesus as God which took place
at his baptism. Christ destroys the darkness which envelops the land of
Zebulun and makes that which was previously in contempt and gloom into
a blossoming paradise. The dry and barren land is transformed into a land
of luxurious abundance, watered by Christ.
This abundance or plenty is also a quality of the first creation. In the
first creation God tells the first man and woman: ‘See, I have given you
every plant yielding seed that is upon the face of the earth, and every tree
with seed in its fruit; you shall have them for food’ (Genesis 1:29); and ‘You
may freely eat of every tree in the garden’ (Genesis 2:16). There is a sense
of abundance and freedom in these images of paradise. And the contrast
between Eden and the life for Adam and Eve outside the garden is charac-
terized by barren land and hard work (Genesis 3:17–19):
… cursed is the ground because of you; in toil you shall eat of it all the days of your
life; thorns and thistles it shall bring forth for you; and you shall eat the plants of the
field. By the sweat of your face you shall eat bread until you return to the ground.
Romanos has these stories in mind when he uses the word ‘prosperity’
(euthenia) to describe the land after the incarnation. His depiction of luxu-
rious and ever-living waters in lines 4 and 5 likewise recalls the descriptions
of paradise in Genesis. Water is said to nourish the earth in Genesis 2:6: ‘but
a stream would rise from the earth, and water the whole face of the earth’.
And the river which flows out of Eden becomes the life-giving waters of
four great rivers (Pishon, Gihon, Tigris and Euphrates) (Genesis 2:10–14).
As a result of God’s descent to earth, the earth looks more like paradise. In
Christ we have the truly everlasting spring, the ‘source of life’.
107
But it is not quite paradise yet. Romanos says that the land ‘imitates par-
adise’ (3). Romanos uses his kontakion to proclaim a dramatic change inau-
gurated by the incarnation, but recognizes that he still lives in a broken
world. He acknowledges his own brokenness and sinfulness in a number of
his hymns (e.g. LVI.7.1–3), and talks about the sins of the people and the
wrath of God explicitly in On Earthquakes and Fires (e.g. LIV.11.4; 13.1–5).
The world has been transformed by Christ’s incarnation, but it is not yet
paradise. Romanos lives rather in a period of anticipation of paradise and
the confirmation of its promise. Present time is a confirmation of the glories
of paradise and this confirmation is brought about through imitation and
anticipation. The land ‘imitates paradise’ by awaiting the final consumma-
tion of the new creation. This is a time in which prophecies are fulfilled and
the people of Christ are called to participate in his life, but the last judge-
ment is still to come. Romanos and his congregation are still awaiting the
second coming of Christ.20 This will be the focus of Chapter 4.
Lines 6 and 7 of our passage are about the Jews. The Jews did not find the
ever-living water, even though they dug the well of Sychem (or ‘Sychar’). In
John’s Gospel, Jesus meets the Samaritan woman in the city of Sychar, at Jacob’s
well (John 4:5–6). When Jesus tells the woman he will give her living water,
she says ‘Sir, you have no bucket, and the well is deep. Where do you get that
living water? Are you greater than our ancestor Jacob, who gave us the well
…?’ (John 4:11–12). Jesus responds that the water he gives is eternally thirst-
quenching, unlike the water of Jacob’s well (John 4:13–14). John illustrates
Christ’s fulfilment and perfection of past events: Jacob gave water, but Christ
gives ever-living water. Romanos alludes to this story to set up a comparison
between Jews and Christians. Jews rely on ordinary water from the well of
Jacob; they do not recognize the ‘source of life’. But Christians, following the
example of the Samaritan woman, realize that the well of Sychem is nothing in
comparison to the living water offered by Christ.
These themes are developed in Romanos’ hymn On the Samaritan Woman,
when he has the woman declare the arrival of the new creation (IX.10.6–8):21
Let what has grown old be idle and the new things flourish.
Let momentary things pass by, for the moment has come22
20 Romanos describes what he thinks will happen at the last judgement in his hymn On the
Second Coming (XXXIV). On Byzantine apocalyptic literature, see Alexander (1985).
21 Hunger suggests that it is the newness of Christianity, which the woman talks about in this
passage: Hunger (1981), 42. This seems to miss the point. Christianity is new and Judaism
old, but it is the fact that Christians are part of the new creation and Jews are not which is
important here.
22 In order to maintain the word play in the Greek, I have followed Grosdidier de Maton’s
translation: Grosdidier de Matons (1965), 339.
108
for the water which you have.

Let this [water] abound and water me …
ἀργείτω τὰ γηράσαντα καὶ ἀνθείτω τὰ νέα·
παρέλθῃ τὰ πρὸς ὥραν· καὶ γὰρ ἦλθεν ἡ ὥρα
τοῦ ὕδατος οὗ ἔχεις·
τοῦτο βρυέτω καὶ ἀρδευέτω ἐμοὶ …
The woman recognizes that a significant change has taken place and that
now is a time for new things. The water of Jacob which sufficed for so long
is now one of the things which pass by. It has been surpassed by the water
of Christ. There are baptismal overtones in ‘water me’ which link baptism
with paradise.
And Christ not only offers ‘the living water’, he is this water. In line 8 of our
passage from On the Epiphany Romanos says that ‘we’ (i.e. Christians) see
the ‘living spring’ in Galilee: Christ. ‘Spring’ (phleps) can also refer to a vein
or artery, and so carries with it the sense of ‘life-force’. Christ is the living
life-force. This reference to water also recalls the baptism of Christ, which
is celebrated on the feast of the epiphany. At his baptism, Christ entered
the depths of human sin – represented by the descent into the waters of the
Jordan – and brought light to that place of darkness. Christian baptism is
therefore an entry into Christ’s life and into the new creation.
This passage ends with a look back to its beginning. Romanos’ statement
that Christ has illuminated everything (9), recalls the first two lines (e.g.
‘he revealed everything as noon’, 1). Partly this reflects the focus on light
in this hymn, On the Epiphany, which celebrates the revelation of Christ
as the Son of God. The epiphany of God is figured using a plethora of light
imagery, drawing on the strong metaphorical connections in Greek lit-
erature between light, illumination, sight and knowledge. The hymn also
has a cyclical pattern to it which might reflect Romanos’ view of time after
the incarnation. As we will see in greater detail in the next chapter, time is
changed after the incarnation: events no longer occur in a linear fashion
and significant events in the life of Christ are re-presented in the liturgical
year. But the point is not that time is cyclical rather than linear. Instead,
Romanos makes the present time understood christologically, so that pres-
ent experience is shaped by liturgical time which is generated by christol-
ogy and which insists on the new creation.
From this brief analysis of one passage, we get a picture of Romanos’
thought in relation to new creation. The incarnation is a world-changing
event; the world pre-incarnation is a very different place to that post-
incarnation. As we will see shortly, he uses various rhetorical techniques,
109
Paradox 109
primarily paradox, to illustrate how miraculous and world-changing the

incarnation is, in its fullest sense. For Romanos, the incarnation, under-
stood as the life, death and resurrection of Christ, is the point at which
the new creation begins, the fulfilment of all preceding history. Prophecies
from the Old Testament are fulfilled in Christ. And indeed all the time
which the Old Testament represents pointed towards a Messiah and in
Christ this period is fulfilled and surpassed. All history has led up to the
point of Christ’s descent to earth.
Paradox
The concept of new creation is bound up in paradox for Romanos, who is

connected to earlier traditions of liturgical poetry and theology. Themes
and images apparent in the hymns of Ephrem the Syrian will help to situate
Romanos’ distinctive proclamation of the new creation through paradox,
and point to shared concerns. Ephrem the Syrian particularly emphasized
paradoxes of the incarnation and virgin birth. He wrote hymns entitled
On the Paradox of Mary’s Birthgiving (Nat. 11) and The Paradoxes of the
Incarnation (Res. 1),23 which focus on the miracle of God becoming human.
To take an example from the latter (Res. 1.9, lines 1 and 4):
Mary bore Him as a child …
heaven bore Him as God.24
…‫ܠ‬ ܽ ‫ܐܝܟ ܰܕ‬

ܳ ‫ܠܥܘ‬ ܰ ‫ܢܬܗ‬ ܶ ‫ܛܥ‬ ܰ ‫ܰܡ‬
ܶ ‫ܪܝܡ‬
ܳ ܳ ܰ ܽ ܰ ܰ
…‫ܐܝܟ ܐܠܠܗܐ‬ ܱ ‫ܫܡ ܳܝܐ ܛܥܢܘ ̱ܗܝ‬
Ephrem heightens the paradox by using the same construction and verb
(ṭ’n). The lowliness of the child Mary bears is contrasted with the greatness
of a God who dwells in heaven.
Similarly, in On the Paradox of Mary’s Birthgiving, Ephrem sings (Nat. 11.6),
Your mother is a cause for wonder: the Lord entered into her
and became a servant; He who is the Word entered
– and became silent within her; Thunder entered her
– and made no sound; there entered the Shepherd of all,
and in her He became the Lamb, bleating as He came forth.25
23 Texts and translations of these two hymns can be found in Brock and Kiraz (2006),
39–45, 79–95.
24 Translation modified from Brock and Kiraz (2006), 87.
25 Translation taken from Brock and Kiraz (2006), 45.
10
ܳ ܳ ̇ ܳ ܰ ܶ ‫ܗܪܐ ܗܝ‬ ܳ
‫ܡܪܐ‬ ‫ܐ ܳܡܟ ܥܠ ܠܗ‬ ̱ ‫ܷܬ‬
ܳ ܳ ‫ܗܘܐ ܰܥ‬ ܳ ‫ܰܘ‬
ܴ ‫ ܥܠ ̇ ܱܡܠ‬
‫ܠ‬ ܰ ‫ܒܕܐ‬
‫ܥܡܐ‬ ܳ ‫ܪ‬ ܰ ‫ ܥܠ ܳܠ ̇ܗ‬ܰ ‫ܒܓ ܳܘ ̇ܗ‬ ܰ ‫ܫܠܝ‬ ܺ ܰ
‫ܘ‬
ܽ ܶ ܳ ܰ ܶܳ ܰ
‫ܟܘܠ‬ ‫ܫܬܩ ܩܠܗ ܥܠ ܪܥܐ‬ ܷ ‫ܘ‬
ܳ ‫ ܢܦܩ ܰܟ‬ܰ ‫ܗܘܐ ܳܒ ̇ܗ‬ ܳ ‫ܡܪܐ‬ ܳ
‫ܦ ܶܥܐ‬ ‫ܕ‬ ‫ܐ‬
ܷ
In this passage, Ephrem uses a repetitive structure and enjambment to

emphasize the paradoxical nature of the incarnation. The final phrase
of each line (beginning with the preposition ‘al) is connected to the first
phrase of the next line by a connecting particle. The enjambment in par-
ticular strengthens the contrast being made: the Lord became a servant,
the Word is silent, Thunder makes no sound, Shepherd becomes the Lamb.
For Romanos, as for Ephrem, paradox is an appropriate device to
demonstrate the change in reality occasioned by the incarnation. Divine
and human – previously mutually exclusive – now exist in a strange sort of
harmony. In On the Presentation in the Temple, Romanos has angels express
the paradoxical nature of what they are seeing (IV.1.4–6):26
Now we see marvels and paradoxes, incomprehensible, unspeakable.
For the one who created Adam is lifted up as a child.
The uncontainable is contained in the arms of the old man.
Θαυμαστὰ θεωροῦμεν νυνὶ καὶ παράδοξα,
ἀκατάληπτα, ἄφραστα·
ὁ τὸν Ἀδὰμ γὰρ δημιουργήσας βαστάζεται ὡς βρέφος·
ὁ ἀχώρητος χωρεῖται ἐν ἀγκάλαις τοῦ πρεσβύτου·
The assonance, alliteration and use of cognates in this passage emphasize

the disbelief of the angels and highlight the paradox. The incarnation has
combined realities which even the heavenly beings thought incompatible.
On this paradox, see further below.
As we have seen, paradox is not merely a descriptive tool, it is actually
a vehicle for this changed reality.27 Romanos uses paradox to enact the
change by bringing two incompatible things together. His use of paradox,
by joining together things irreconcilable before the incarnation, dynami-
cally performs the change which has taken place as a result of God’s incar-
nation. For instance, in On the Nativity I, Romanos unites two incompatible
truths: 1. God is the Father of Mary; 2. He became the son of Mary (I.2.1):
The Father of the mother of his own accord became her son.
Ὁ πατὴρ τῆς μητρὸς γνώμῃ υἱὸς ἐγένετο·
26 On the increasing importance of angels in late antique homiletics, see Allen (1998), 210.
27 See Chapter 1 above.
1
Paradox 111
The physical impossibility that these two statements could be simultane-

ously true exercises Romanos here. He combines the contradictory state-
ments in the one line, paradoxically juxtaposing them just as Father and
Son are paradoxically one in God and Mary is both daughter and mother
of the one God.
Likewise, in On the Mission of the Apostles (XXXI.3.3–4):
Those who were fishermen before Christ are also fishermen after Christ,
those who did converse with the sea, now gush out sweet words …
οἱ πρὸ Χριστοῦ ἁλιεῖς καὶ μετὰ τὸν Χριστὸν ἁλιεῖς,
οἱ ἅλμῃ συνομιλοῦντες καὶ γλυκὺ ῥῆμα νῦν ἐρευγόμενοι
Fishermen are now able to speak beautifully! Christ gave the most poorly
educated and least erudite of society the ability to speak ‘sweet words’. Pre-
incarnation fishermen never had this ability, but only ‘conversed with the
sea’ – we can imagine the slang and coarse language of ill-educated sea-
men – but because of Christ their speech has been transformed: they now
preach the Gospel. The fishermen ‘gush out’ the sweet words just as the sea
gushes out foam or fish.28 Romanos uses Jesus’ fishing metaphor for proselyt-
izing (Matthew 4:19), while opposing ‘before Christ’ with ‘after Christ’: the
men are still fishermen, but before Christ they fished for fish, whereas after
Christ they fish for people. The paradox drives home the changed reality.
Romanos follows this paradox up with another, later in the hymn: ‘and
Athenians will be defeated by Galileans’ (καὶ ἡττῶνται Ἀθηναῖοι Γαλιλαίοις)
(XXXI.16.3). The ‘Athenians’ are pagans and the Galileans Christians, but
the former could have multiple specific referents: those teaching in the
philosophical and rhetorical schools in Athens, those educated in the same
schools, or particular important philosophers. In any case, these Athenians
represent the best-educated and most well-spoken people in the empire,
and they are beaten in speech by lowly, uneducated Galileans.29
The most important paradoxes for Romanos are those related to the most
miraculous events in the Christian story: the incarnation, the crucifixion
and the resurrection. The incarnation initiates the new creation. A dra-
matic change took place in the incarnation: God became man. The joining
of these two fundamentally different things changes everything. Romanos
emphasizes this paradox by focusing on the physical impossibility of the
incarnation and on various characters’ lack of comprehension.
28 Carpenter (1970), 340 n. 12.

29 Averil Cameron sees this as an opposition between Christian simplicity and corrupt classical
eloquence. See Cameron (1991a), 190. This becomes a topos in Christian writing from Paul
onwards.
12
In On the Annunciation I, Romanos puts paradoxical language into the

mouth of the archangel Gabriel, as he struggles to understand what is about
to take place (XXXVI.2.3–10):
And [Gabriel], coming to Nazareth, to Joseph’s hut, was amazed
that the Most High desired to join with the lowly ones.
‘All heaven’, he said, ‘and the fiery throne do not contain my Lord,
so how will this mere woman receive him?
He is awe-inspiring above, and how will he be seen below?
It is altogether as he wills it. So why do I stand and not rush
and say to the girl,
“Hail, unwedded wife”?’
καὶ ἐλθὼν εἰς Ναζαρὲτ πρὸς τὴν σκηνὴν
τοῦ Ἰωσὴφ ἐξεπλήττετο,
ὅτι πῶς ὁ ὑψηλὸς τοῖς ταπεινοῖς ἀγαπᾷ συνεπάγεσθαι.
‘Ὅλος’, φησίν, ‘[[ὁ]] οὐρανὸς καὶ ὁ πύρινος θρόνος
οὐ χωρεῖ μου τὸν δεσπότην.
καὶ ἡ εὐτελὴς αὕτη πῶς ⟨αὐτὸν⟩ ὑποδέχεται;
ἄνω φρικτὸς καὶ κάτω πῶς ὁρατός;
πάντως ὡς βούλεται· τί οὖν ἵσταμαι καὶ οὐχ ἵπταμαι
καὶ τῇ κόρῃ φθέγγομαι·
“χαῖρε νύμφη ἀνύμφευτε”;’
The incomprehensibility of the incarnation is foregrounded by the fact that

the archangel, one of the highest celestial beings, does not understand it.
Gabriel is puzzled for a while, but in the end accepts that he cannot under-
stand the will of God entirely and that he need not. It is enough for him
that God has asked him to do this: Gabriel is not God, even though he is a
celestial being; his lack of comprehension sets him below the Father, who
has sent him on this mission. The magnitude of the change is highlighted by
its physical impossibility. God is uncontainable (line 5), yet Mary somehow
will ‘contain’ him in her womb (line 6). God is likewise unbearable to look
upon for the heavenly beings above (line 7), yet humans are about to see
him on earth (line 7).
These paradoxes draw attention to the great chasm of difference between
the divine and the human, which God bridges at the incarnation. God is
the Most High, yet he chooses to associate with the humble and lowly and
deigns to send one of his archangels to the flimsy tent of Joseph. This line
(4) is a reference to Romans 12, in which Paul instructs the faithful in the
ideal Christian life (12:16): ‘do not be haughty, but associate with the lowly’
(μὴ τὰ ὑψηλὰ φρονοῦντες ἀλλὰ τοῖς ταπεινοῖς συναπαγόμενοι). Romanos
uses the same word for lowly (tapeinoi) and Paul’s word for ‘haughty’ is
13
Paradox 113
Romanos’ word for ‘Most High’ (hupsēlos). In this way, Romanos reworks
the Pauline passage to make it about the divine descent to earth, which was
prompted by God’s love (agapa, line 4, related to Paul’s ‘associate’: sunapag-
omenoi) for his creation, and uses it to emphasize the perfection of human-
ity in Christ which restores humanity to God: Christ’s association with the
lowly reinforces that he is the perfect Christian.
The paradoxes in this passage also reflect the sixth-century (Chalcedonian)
concern to reinforce the unity of the Trinity as well as the two natures of
Christ and their relation to each other. In his letter Against the Monophysites,
the emperor Justinian also contrasted the lofty heights of the divinity with
the lowliness of humanity, although without Romanos’ clear Pauline ref-
erence, while stressing that the Son is not separate from the Father: ‘How
has it come to pass that he who exists on high has been seen in meekness
and humility, without descending from the heights?’ (πῶς τὸ ὑψηλὸν ἐν τῶι
ταπεινῶι γενόμενον καὶ ἐν τῶι ταπεινῶι καθορᾶται καὶ οὐ καταβαίνει τοῦ
ὕψους;).30 Justinian’s answer is that Christ was both perfect man and perfect
God, and that both natures are essential for human salvation.31 Romanos’
construction of the annunciation is informed by contemporary debates.
Gabriel’s anxiety about the immensity of God being contained highlights
that Christ is still God even though he has entered humanity.
We see the same concerns, again foregrounded by angelic beings, in On
the Nativity II. The speaker is the Christ-child (II.13.9–11):
The one whom the Cherubim do not look upon,
behold you see and carry and soothe me as a son,
you, the highly favoured one.
ὃν οὐχ ὁρᾷ Χερουβίμ,
ἰδοὺ βλέπεις καὶ βαστάζεις καὶ ὡς υἱὸν κολακεύεις με,
ἡ κεχαριτωμένη.
Romanos joins the divine kingship of God with the humble humanity of the
Christ-child in this paradox. The two natures of Christ are paramount: the
heavenly Christ is so great and powerful that even the Cherubim hide their
eyes from him, yet Mary sees him, holds him in her arms and speaks sooth-
ing words to him (the point is emphasized rhetorically with an ascend-
ing tricolon). Christ’s two natures are also made prominent by having the
Christ-child as the speaker: the babe in arms speaks with the authority of
the divine creator.
30 Contra monophysitas 3. For the text of this letter, see Albertella et al. (1973), 6–78. For the
translation, see Wesche (1991), 30.
31 Contra monophysitas 3.
14
The paradox does not stop with the moment of the incarnation. Christ
is a living paradox while he is on earth. In On the Marriage at Cana, for
instance, God reclines in a mortal’s house (VII.2.4–6). One kontakion in
which this is a particularly important theme is On the Baptism of Christ,
since Christ’s baptism was the event at which he was revealed as God by the
voice from heaven (Matthew 3:16–17; Mark 1:10–11; V.16.4–5):32
How did I have the power to baptize the boundless one, being clay,
unless I first received and took power from above?
πῶς ηὐτόνουν βαπτίσαι τὴν ἄβυσσον, πήλινος ὑπάρχων,
εἰ μὴ πρῶτον ἐδεξάμην καὶ ἔλαβον δύναμιν ἐξ ὕψους;
John the Baptist’s reference to ‘clay’ recalls the creation narrative in which
Adam was created out of the earth (Genesis 2:7). The incarnation is here
figured as a second creation of a new humanity which transcends mortal,
earth-bound bodies of clay.
All further paradoxes flow from the fundamental paradox of God
becoming human. The incarnation generates the paradoxical discourse
of Romanos’ poetry. The virgin birth is one such paradox, combining
two impossible realities as a result of God’s decision to become human.
It is one which seems to be particularly important to Romanos. The well-
known first line of his most famous hymn, On the Nativity I, draws atten-
tion to this: ‘Today the Virgin gives birth to the one who is beyond being’
(ἡ παρθένος σήμερον τὸν ὑπερούσιον τίκτει) (I.Pr.1). The virgin birth is
proof of the change in reality which takes place in the incarnation. Cyril
of Alexandria in particular argued that the virgin birth demonstrated
Christ’s divinity and thus the reality of the incarnation.33 He claimed that
Christ could not have become flesh and thereby saved humanity without
having been born from the Virgin.34 This was part of his argument for
the term Theotokos.35 In his opening line, Romanos draws attention to
the paradoxical elements of the incarnation: that the one who is beyond
being is also brought into being. Never before had God become human.
Romanos uses the juxtaposition of ‘beyond being’ and ‘gives birth’ to
emphasize this paradox.
On the Annunciation I is similarly full of incarnation paradoxes. One
which runs throughout is the refrain: ‘hail, unwedded wife’ (χαῖρε, νύμφη
32 See also John 1:29–34.

33 Cf. also Irenaeus Against Heresies 3.21.10. See Behr (2000), 63.
34 Five Tomes against Nestorius I.17: Russell (2000), 133–4.
35 Atanassova (2008), 105–25, Boss (2007), 53, Price (2008), 96. See also Chapter 2 above.
15
Paradox 115
ἀνύμφευτε).36 Mary herself expresses doubt about the possibility of this

impossible event taking place (XXXVI.5.5–10):
For he said ‘you will bear and give birth to a son’,
yet I know no man.
Perhaps he does not know that I am sealed?
Can he not know that I am a virgin?
I am really not persuaded.37 If he did not know and have full knowledge,
he would not have come to me saying,
‘hail, unwedded wife’.
εἶπε γὰρ ὅτι· ‘υἱὸν βαστάζεις καὶ τίκτεις’·
καίτοι ἄνδρα οὐ γινώσκω.
τάχα οὐκ ἔμαθεν οὗτος ὅτι ἐσφράγισμαι;
ἆρ’ ἀγνοεῖ ὅτι παρθένος εἰμί;
ὄντως οὐ πείθομαι· εἰ μὴ ἔμαθε καὶ κατέμαθεν,
οὐκ ἂν ἦλθε λέγων μοι·
‘χαῖρε νύμφη ἀνύμφευτε.’
This paradox also contributes to the dramatic tension through rhetoric.

Romanos makes the stanza quite repetitive: verbs of knowing dominate the
passage.38 Mary also talks about her virginity in three different ways (lines
5, 6 and 7). The repetition nicely mimics Mary’s confused and frightened
state. This accentuates Mary’s humanity, once again bringing the incar-
nation to the fore: God enters the world through a human woman, not
through some divine being. In line 5 ‘give birth’ is juxtaposed with ‘and yet
I know no man’ to highlight the physical impossibility of a virginal birth.
The rhetorical questions of lines 6 and 7 make ridiculous the idea that the
divine messenger would not know Mary’s virginal state.
In many such passages Romanos employs alliteration, rhyme or repeti-
tion to emphasize the paradox. Impossible connections made by the para-
dox are made closer by literary devices such as alliteration and assonance:
k and g sounds connect ‘suckle’ and ‘milk’ in ‘not by chance do I suckle the
one who supplies my milk’ (οὐκ εἰκῇ γαλουχῶ τὸν χορηγὸν τοῦ γάλακτος
(I.23.2)); p-alliteration and assonance strengthen the paradox in ‘in order
that they might see rich poverty, honourable beggary’ (ἵνα ἴδωσι | πενίαν
πλουσίαν, πτωχείαν τιμίαν (I.7.2–3)). Likewise, in On the Presentation in
the Temple (IV.1.6), the paradox of the incarnation is made prominent
36 Unfortunately, the cognate and paradox are not easily rendered in English (‘hail, unwedded
wife’ might be the closest), but José Grosdidier de Matons comes closer in the French edition:
Salut, épouse inépousée. See Grosdidier de Matons (1965), 21ff.
37 Colloquially, we might render this as ‘I really don’t get it.’
38 On the erotic connotations of this kontakion, see Arentzen (2013).
16
by cognates: ‘the uncontainable is contained in the arms of the old man’

(ὁ ἀχώρητος χωρεῖται ἐν ἀγκάλαις τοῦ πρεσβύτου). These devices, which
support the paradoxes, help to set up the divide between human and divine
which has been bridged in the incarnation.
Paradoxes taken from natural imagery, probably drawn from Old
Testament narratives, make the new reality all the more striking: ‘There an
unwatered root has appeared, bringing to light forgiveness. There is found
an undug spring …’ (ἐκεῖ ἐφάνη ῥίζα ἀπότιστος βλαστάνουσα ἄφεσιν, | ἐκεῖ
ηὑρέθη φρέαρ ἀνόρυκτον …) (I.1.4–5), and ‘we observe a dewy fire’ (πῦρ
δροσίζον θεωροῦμεν) (I.13.9). The ‘unwatered root’ is a reference to Isaiah
53:2, which foretells that the Messiah will grow up like a root out of dry
ground; the undug spring may be a reference to King David’s desire to drink
from the well at Bethlehem (2 Samuel 23:13–17; 1 Chronicles 11:17–19);
and the dewy fire could refer to the fiery furnace of Daniel (Daniel 3:19–
30). These paradoxes are metaphors for the virgin birth; they are possible
if the virgin birth is possible. (We will look at their typological significance
shortly). The whole of the cosmos is altered by the incarnation: fire can be
wet, roots grow without water, springs burst forth without being tapped
into, and so on. These natural paradoxes are confronting because they mean
changes to everyday things and make extraordinary phenomena out of the
ordinary. The future paradise can be near at hand, in everyday life. This
claim is what drives Romanos’ extensive exhortations to his congregation
to participate in the world of fulfilled prophecy.
The incarnation also means the rehabilitation of womankind. In On
the Annunciation II, Romanos’ paradox changes the state of women.
After being told by the archangel that she will give birth to the saviour
of humanity, Mary responds: ‘How does woman, who previously intro-
duced death to mortals, now bring forth life?’ (γυνὴ ἡ πρὶν τὸν θάνατον
προξενήσασα βροτοῖς πῶς ζωὴν νῦν βλαστήσει;) (XXXVII.11.3). Mary’s
obedience to the call of God corrects the disobedience of her ancestor,
Eve. As we saw in Chapter 2, Romanos presents Mary as a second Eve
who rehabilitates the first, correcting her wrongs and thus perfecting
womankind.
The incarnation is a fundamentally paradoxical event which Romanos
explores through paradox. God and human previously did not co-exist in
the one being, but after the incarnation such things can and do happen.
Romanos makes this clear to his congregation through his use of paradoxes,
which draw together the previously irreconcilable realities that the incarna-
tion unites.
17
Paradox 117
Romanos often couches the crucifixion in similar terms to the incar-

nation. At the incarnation God became human for the sake of human-
ity. At the crucifixion God died a human death for the sake of humanity
(XXIV.1.1–3):
Life unto the tomb; unto death, God;
and unto Hades, Hades’ destroyer –
he the lawless crowd once handed over.39
Τὴν ζωὴν τῇ ταφῇ, τῷ θανάτῳ θεὸν
καὶ τῷ Ἅιδῃ τὸν Ἅιδην σκυλεύσαντα
παρέδωκε ποτὲ τῶν ἀνόμων λαός,
Alliteration and juxtaposition emphasize the paradox of God dying on

the cross.40 The first line is finely balanced: ‘life’ and ‘God’ sandwich ‘tomb’
and ‘death’, and ‘God’ and ‘death’ are alliteratively linked. The repetition
and juxtaposition of ‘Hades’ brings home the incongruity of the event.
Word order is used to communicate this incongruity. Romanos deliber-
ately starts the strophe with ‘life’ and the paradoxes concerning God and
then moves to the actions of the crowd in line 3. The most important
figure begins the strophe.
In On the Resurrection V, the paradox of the transcendent and yet incar-
nate God is set beside a statement of God’s sacrifice on the cross to make
another paradox (XXVIII.3.6–7):
Unseen above, you are, [yet] seen below by all,
and you accepted bodily suffering for our sakes.
ἄνω ἀόρατος, γέγονες, κάτω ὁρώμενος πᾶσι·
σωματικῶς δὲ τὸ πάθος ὑπὲρ ἡμῶν κατεδέξω
As in the paradoxes of the incarnation and virgin birth discussed above,

Romanos focuses on the divine and human natures of Christ, increasing
the sense of the miraculous. Christ is God and unseen, but human and
visible to all. Such paradoxes hold the two natures of Christ together
in an acceptably Chalcedonian fashion, reinforcing Christ’s divinity
despite his becoming truly and perceptibly human. And as this living
paradox Christ enacts another: willingness to suffer for the sake of
humans.
39 I have tried to follow the word order in my translation to illustrate my point. A more
grammatical translation might look like this: Once the crowd of lawless ones handed over Life
to the tomb, God to death and the one who destroyed Hades to Hades …
40 For an analysis of the narrative structure of this hymn, see Barkhuizen (1986b), 17–28.
18
Romanos foregrounds the paradox of Christ’s suffering for humans

through word play. At XXVIII.11.7:41
He suffers (paschei) willingly, in order that he may destroy the passions (pathē).
αὐτὸς δὲ πάσχει θελήσει, ἵνα τὰ πάθη συντρίψῃ
Likewise, in On the Entry into Jerusalem (XVI.2.1–2):

Behold our King, the one who is meek and quiet sitting on the colt,
has come in haste to suffer (pathein) and wound passions (pathē).
Ἰδοὺ ὁ βασιλεὺς ἡμῶν ὁ πρᾶος καὶ ἡσύχιος τῷ πώλῳ καθήμενος
σπουδῇ παραγίνεται ἐπὶ τὸ παθεῖν καὶ τὰ πάθη τεμεῖν·
Christ’s sacrifice is human deliverance from enslaving sins.42 Romanos’ word

plays in these passages enable him to put the passion of Christ in the same
category as human passions, creating a two-way paradox: Christ suffers to
remove human suffering; Christ takes on human sin to remove human sins.
The double meaning of pathos allows this paradox. It can refer both to ‘suffer-
ing’ and to ‘emotion’ or ‘passion’. Passions (pathē), in the sense of irrational or
uncontrolled emotional movements connected with sensuality, were mostly
viewed negatively in late antiquity (although some theologians identified both
natural (or ‘pure’) and unnatural passions and viewed the unnatural ones as
sinful).43 The passions therefore become associated with sin; they are the irra-
tionality which prevents humans from being the truly rational beings God
intended them to be. In this sense, they are something from which Romanos
wants to be ‘set free’. Romanos’ word play thus strongly highlights the direct
link between Christ’s death on the cross and human salvation from sin.
While paradox mainly accentuates the wondrous new perfections and
harmonies of the new creation, the understanding of new creation can also
be used to exclude social groups from this perfect reality. For example, in
the fifth resurrection hymn, and in various others, Romanos uses paradox
to talk about the Jews (XXVIII.7.4–5):
And those who thought by their deeds they were honouring the Law
handed over the one who fulfils their Law to be crucified in the flesh.
41 See also XXVI.Pr.1.

42 See also LIX.1.2, in which Romanos gives the suffering of martyrs the same efficacy as the
suffering of Christ: it removes general human suffering.
43 Hinterberger (2010), 127. Smith sets one early Christian conceptualization of the passions
(Gregory of Nyssa’s) in the context of classical views: Smith (2004), 89–92. The Stoics in
particular argued that one should attempt to eliminate the passions in order to lead a virtuous
life. Cf. Nussbaum (1994), 359–401. Sorabji has traced the movement within early Christian
thought from ‘Stoic agitation to Christian temptation’: Sorabji (2000). See also Knuuttila (2004).
19
Paradox 119
νόμον δὲ τιμᾶν διὰ τῶν ἔργων δοκοῦντες

τὸν τοῦ νόμου αὐτῶν πληρωτὴν
σταυρωθῆναι σαρκὶ παραδέδωκαν
The Law-keepers are really Law-transgressors. Romanos believes that Jews,

whom he blames for Christ’s crucifixion and who have rejected Christ and
the teachings of the Christian church, are excluded from the new creation.
In fact, they have excluded themselves by their actions and lack of belief. In
their blind allegiance to the Law, they have not recognized its fulfilment in
Jesus Christ. We will look further at Romanos’ exclusion of the Jews shortly.
Romanos strongly argues for a change in the nature of death as a result of
the resurrection of Jesus. The paradoxes he uses fall into two basic catego-
ries: the destruction (or ‘death’) of death; and the deification of humanity.
In this section from the second resurrection hymn Hades laments the ram-
ifications of Christ’s resurrection for him (XXV.7.1–3):
Behold I, the master, am a prisoner and having just been King I am a slave,
and I, the Fearsome One, am caught and am an object of ridicule for all.
I am completely naked, for he has snatched away everything from me.
Ἰδοὺ πέλω δεσμώτης ὁ δεσπότης
καὶ δουλεύω ὁ πρώην βασιλεύων.
καὶ γεγένημαι ὁ ἐπίφοβος ἐπίληπτος
καὶ πᾶσιν εἰς [γέλωτα]·
παντόθεν γυμνητεύω, τὰ γὰρ πάντα μου ἀφήρπασεν·
Romanos uses word placement and alliteration, assonance, and rhyming

endings to emphasize the paradox here: the alliterative words ‘prisoner’
(desmōtēs) and ‘master’ (despotēs) are juxtaposed, as are ‘fearsome’ (epipho-
bos) and ‘caught’ (epilēptos), and the choice of vocabulary allows Romanos
to use sounds (in bold here) to heighten the contrast. In a few kontakia,
Romanos has Christ call for the rescued souls to mock Hades. At XXV.11,
Hades says the people hit him with their hymns and songs, and in On the
Resurrection IV Jesus tells the people he is rescuing from hell to trample on
Hades (XXVII.6.6) and strike his face (XXVII.7.1).
The normal circumstances and events surrounding death are overturned
in the death and resurrection of Christ. Hades points out these paradoxes
(XXV.5.1–7):
And who would not have been deceived,

seeing him wrapped in cloth and put in the tomb?
Who, as if a dumb animal, would not have thought that he had died,
when an unguent of myrrh and aloes anointed him
120
and he was brought to me?

Again, who says a man is not dead, seeing the stone there,
on which he is lying?
Who would have thought such things, or who would ever have hoped
to cry, concerning him,
‘The Lord is risen’?
καὶ τίς ἄρα οὐκ εἶχε πλανηθῆναι
θεωρῶν αὐτὸν τῇ σινδόνι ἐνειλούμενον
καὶ τάφῳ διδόμενον;
τίς οὕτως ἦν κτηνώδης μὴ νοῆσαι ὅτι τέθνηκεν,
ὁπότε σμῆγμα σμύρνης καὶ ἀλόης ἐπεχρίετο
πρὸς ἐμὲ πορευόμενος;
τίς εἶπε πάλιν μὴ νεκρὸν βλέπων λίθον ἐπικείμενον,
οὗ ἦν οὗτος κείμενος;
τίς τοιοῦτον ἐνόησεν, ἢ τίς ποτε ἐπήλπιζε
βοῆσαι περὶ τούτου·
‘ἀνέστη ὁ κύριος’;
By using a repetitive structure of rhetorical questions in this passage,

Romanos characterizes Death as distressed and confused by the resurrec-
tion of Christ. This characterization, through a powerful personification,
further accentuates the paradox of the resurrection. When did all the signs
of death not point to death before Jesus? It is only in the new reality that
such paradoxes are realized.
Romanos also ignores conventional temporal limits to bring together in
his hymns people who could never have met, revealing Romanos’ conception
of the altered nature of time. Events past, present and future converge in the
incarnation and post-incarnation events. So, in On the Nativity II, Mary is able
to meet and talk with her oldest ancestors, Adam and Eve (II.8–11). Mary’s
hymn to Christ miraculously reaches Eve’s ears (3.3), and she manages to wake
Adam only by revealing the wonder of the incarnation and its effect for their
salvation (4ff.). Adam is strengthened by the life-giving breeze (a reference
to Ezekiel 37) (7.7–8) and only then is he able to speak to Mary (7.9–10; 8).44
These biblical figures and events converge in the light of the incarnation.
Similarly, in On the Massacre of the Innocents, Rachel becomes Mary’s con-
temporary. She is a witness to the slaughter of the sons of Israel (III.1.3–6):
Jacob exults, and why does Rachel mourn?
Joseph is recognised, and why does Rachel groan?
44 On Adam’s spiritual and literal awakening in this hymn, see Frank (2005), 167–8. See also
Chapter 2 above.
12
Paradox and Typology 121
Benjamin is lifted up, why does Rachel cry?

So come, let us see the lament and the sadness.
… Ἰακὼβ ἐπαγάλλεται, καὶ Ῥαχὴλ τί ὀδύρεται;
Ἰωσὴφ ἀνεγνωρίσθη, καὶ Ῥαχὴλ τί στενάζει;
Βενιαμὶν ὑψώθη, τί κλαίει Ῥαχήλ;
δεῦτε οὖν ἴδωμεν τὸν ὀδυρμὸν καὶ τὸ πένθος·
Old Testament figures are brought forward in time to be contemporaries of

Mary and her baby. Rachel is presented as mother of all Israel’s children: her
own sons, Joseph and Benjamin, were restored after both seemed to be
lost, but in this story she mourns for her descendants. And, once again,
Romanos calls for participation in this event. The congregation is called
upon to witness the ‘sadness’: the slaughter of the innocent children.45 In
this new reality, past, present and future converge in the anticipation of
heavenly glory.
Paradox and Typology
For clarity, I have divided my analysis so far into sections on different rhe-
torical devices, which might leave the false impression that each is quite
separate. But Romanos uses paradox and typology together, again under-
scoring the novel temporality of the new creation. In On the Three Children,
Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego in the fiery furnace (Daniel 3:19–30)
become types for the virgin birth, using the paradox of a ‘bedewed’ fire in the
Old Testament as a type for the paradox of the incarnation (XLVI.26.9–12):
Just as he recently sprinkled the furnace with dew,
so, like rain on the virgin, he is about to
sprinkle those who sing
‘Hurry, merciful one, and since you have pity hasten
to our aid, because you are able to do what you will.’
καθάπερ καὶ ἄρτι τὴν κάμινον ἐδρόσισεν
οὕτως μέλλει ὡς ὑετὸς εἰς τὴν ἄγαμον
καταρδεύειν τοὺς ψάλλοντας·
‘τάχυνον, ὁ οἰκτίρμων, καὶ σπεῦσον ὡς ἐλεήμων
εἰς τὴν βοήθειαν ἥμῶν, ὅτι δύνασαι βουλόμενος.’
Typology and paradox unite, connecting an Old Testament paradox (dew in

the fiery furnace) to a New Testament one (the virgin birth). The reference
45 We will look at this in more detail in Chapter 4.

12
to ‘rain’ on the virgin also recalls the image of the dew on the fleece (Judges
6:36–8) (on which, see further below). Multiple biblical paradoxes are com-
bined in this passage, demonstrating Romanos’ analogical mode of think-
ing, which connects the Old and New Testaments and makes time converge
(on which, see further in Chapter 4 below).
The typology also makes Romanos’ congregation part of the two par-
adoxes. God is about to sprinkle the singers of the final two lines of the
stanza, the refrain. The singers are Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego,
whom God rescued by sprinkling with water in the fiery furnace. But, at the
same time, the refrain is the section in which the congregation took part.46
The congregation is thereby linked to the three in the furnace with whom
they share the singing of the refrain.47
There is an interesting temporal reversal in this passage. I have suggested
that the furnace is a type for the incarnation, but this passage actually reverses
the order of the two events. The Old Testament event, which happens ‘now’
or at least ‘recently’ (ἄρτι), seemingly looks ‘back’ to the virgin birth, present-
ing it as a type for the three who are unharmed by the fiery furnace. We are
presented with a multivalent paradox. Each story is paradoxical by itself, but
the relationship of the two events is similarly confusing and difficult to ascer-
tain. The link to Romanos’ congregation gives a clue. Romanos argues for a
‘liturgical time’, in which biblical events transcend normal temporal bounda-
ries and actually take place ‘now’: the day on which they are commemorated
in the liturgical calendar. The virgin birth is such an event. Romanos’ use
of Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego as antitype of the virgin birth in the
liturgical drama of his kontakion makes the Old Testament story present too.
In a similar way, the second annunciation kontakion combines metaphor
and paradox (XXXVII.1.1–5):
What I see I cannot understand,
for it is beyond the human mind.
How does grass bear fire and not burn?
46 It is possible that Romanos is also preparing the congregation to be sprinkled with holy water
in the service or in a forthcoming service. This kontakion is ascribed in some manuscripts
to 17 December, the day which commemorates Daniel, and in others to another Sunday
leading up to Christmas: Grosdidier de Matons (1964), 343–5. There is no evidence that the
congregation was sprinkled with holy water in the weeks leading up to Christmas. However,
such a sprinkling did sometimes occur on the Feast of the Theophany (6 January) and
Romanos may be looking forward to that event. There is evidence of the Great Blessing of the
Waters from the ninth century and the sprinkling the congregation is attested in an eleventh-
or twelfth-century service book. See Gerstel (2010), 118–19.
47 We will look at how Romanos uses the refrain to make his congregation participate in biblical
events (and therefore in the new creation) in Chapter 4.
123
Typology 123
A lamb bears a lion, a swallow an eagle,

and a slave- girl her master.
In a mortal belly, as has not been circumscribed,
Mary bears God, my willing saviour …
Ὅπερ ὁρῶ νοῆσαι οὐ χωρῶ·
ὑπὲρ νοῦν γὰρ ὑπάρχει ἀνθρώπινον·
πῶς πῦρ φέρων ὁ χόρτος οὐ φλέγεται;
ἀμνὰς βαστάζει λέοντα, ἀετὸν δὲ χελιδὼν
καὶ δεσπότην ἡ δούλη·
γαστρὶ θνητῇ θεὸν ἀπεριγράπτως
Μαρία ἐμὸν σωτῆρα ἑκόντα φέρει …
Multiple metaphors and images highlight the miraculous nature of the

incarnation and its transformative power. A world in which a human can
give birth to God is one in which normal order is reversed and miracu-
lous things can and do take place. Prey looks after predator, the small and
weak care for the big and strong. Paradox joins two existing creatures in an
entirely new way, transforming the two realities into a new, single, paradox-
ical reality. These images could also be a different take on Isaiah 11:6, which
uses the picture of predator and prey (wolf and lamb, leopard and goat,
lion and calf) lying down together as a symbol of paradise: the incarnation
heralds the new paradise.
The paradox of the incarnation generates and is performed by the
paradoxical discourse of Romanos’ kontakia. This distinctive feature of
Romanos’ poetic discourse arises from his theological investigation and
proclamation of christology. God became human and was brought into
the world by a virgin mother. The rhetorical device of paradox by its
very form combines realities which could not previously have existed
in harmony, thus enacting the paradoxical nature of the new creation.
Paradox reflects Romanos’ conceptualization of the new creation and
its transformation of reality. When joined with typology, the novelty
and transformational nature of event or person highlighted by the
type, and the consequences for the experience of a new temporality, are
emphasized.
Typology
The large range of types employed by Romanos enables him to explore this
new, christologically mediated temporality, and to present and elucidate
associated interpretations of time and history. The radical transformations
124
which the incarnation inaugurated are the fulfilment of all history: all pre-
vious reality foreshadowed and now converges on Christ. Old Testament
figures and events, across numerous generations, prefigure the one event in
the life of Jesus.
Types for Christ
In On the Massacre of the Innocents, Romanos compares the infants Moses
and Christ (III.15.10–12):
And he reached the fruit-giving Nile,
not as Moses in the river, thrown into a marsh and guarded in a basket,
but rather having hurled down all their idols there.
τὸν Νεῖλον δὲ κατέλαβε τὸν καρποδότην πέλοντα,
οὐχ ὡς Μωσῆς ἐν ποταμῷ καὶ τῷ ἕλει προσριφεὶς
καὶ ἐν θίβει φυλαχθείς,
μᾶλλον δὲ ῥίψας ἐκεῖ ἅπαν εἴδωλον αὐτῶν
Romanos draws on well-known narratives from the apocryphal infancy

Gospels about the flight into Egypt. In these stories Egyptian idols acknowl-
edge Jesus as the Son of God and fall down from their pedestals when Jesus
enters Egypt.48 Unlike the infant Moses who, although he turned out to be
one of the greatest men in Jewish history, was hidden in a basket to save
his life (Exodus 2:3), Jesus is an active figure from the first. The canonical
Gospel of Matthew suggests that the trip to Egypt was to save Jesus from
Herod and his soldiers (Matt. 2:13–15), but this apocryphal narrative sug-
gests otherwise. Jesus is not like Moses; he does not have to be hidden away
for protection. From infancy, Jesus is presented as an active protector of the
faith and destroyer of idolatry.
The most significant events in the life of Christ were his birth, death and
resurrection. The actions which led to his death were likewise prefigured by
the Old Testament. In On Judas, Romanos uses Joseph as a type for Christ
(XVII.19.5–7; Genesis 37:28):
Joseph was a type for Jesus, whose price you [i.e. Judas] took,
and, taking it, you received a hanging-noose and Hades.
Ὁ Ἰωσὴφ ἐκεῖνος τοῦ Ἰησοῦ ἦν τύπος,
οὗ τὴν τιμὴν λαμβάνεις·
καὶ δι’ αὐτῆς καταλαμβάνεις Ἅιδην τὸν βρόχον ἔχων †ἀγχόνην†.
48 The Gospel of Pseudo-Matthew 23: Elliott and James (1993), 96.

125
Typology 125
Joseph was betrayed by those closest to him, his brothers, and therefore
is a type for Christ, whose close companion, Judas, betrayed him. There
is sufficient ambiguity in the Greek to allow for the impression that the
money Judas took was the same money taken by the betrayers of Joseph.
Literally, the price is Jesus’, but Joseph is another masculine singular noun
to which the relative pronoun could refer, strengthening the connection
between type and antitype. Once again, antitype outweighs type: Joseph
becomes powerful in Egypt and his brothers are not greatly punished for
their betrayal, whereas Jesus dies on the cross and Judas hangs himself. The
betrayal of Jesus is the more significant and has more serious consequences
for the betrayer. In On Joseph I, Romanos uses Joseph’s brother Judah as a
type for Jewish treachery in the New Testament, and perhaps particularly
Judas’ betrayal, playing on the similarity between the names (XLIII.7). As
discussed above in relation to paradox, typologies for the Jews or Jewish
treachery seem designed to illustrate that the Jews are not part of the new
creation. Their treachery has not lessened but rather increased as a result of
the incarnation because they have turned away from the Messiah. All of the
Jewish scriptures are to be interpreted christologically – for Romanos, it is
part of Jewish sinfulness that they do not see this.
In On Mary at the Cross, Romanos presents Christ as the serpent of
bronze which Moses erected to save the Israelites, drawing on the Gospel of
John (3:14). Mary says (XIX.15.7–10):
And Moses said this to Israel,
that ‘You are about to see life on a tree.’
Who is the life?
My son and my God.
Μωσῆς δὲ τοιοῦτο τῷ Ἰσραὴλ εἶπεν
ὅτι. ‘μέλλεις βλέπειν ἐπὶ ξύλου τὴν ζωήν.’
ἡ ζωὴ δὲ τίς ἐστιν;
ὁ υἱὸς καὶ θεός μου.
God sent the serpent of bronze, through his servant Moses, to save his people
from death by hanging on a pole. In this sense the bronze serpent is life, since
it restores life to those about to lose it. This is a foreshadowing of Christ and
the crucifixion, since God sent his son Jesus, through his servant Mary, to
save his people from death by hanging on a tree. But Moses’ bronze snake
only saved the Israelites temporarily – from death by poisonous snakes – it
did not save them from death itself. The second ‘life on a tree’, Christ, brings
eternal life to humans who have all been bitten by the sting of death.
126
Isaac and Jonah are both types of Christ’s death and resurrection
(XLI.19.1–2, 7–8):49
At that time the faithful Abraham disregarded the words of [his] son
and was a forceful executor of the sacrifice …
the child did not squirm, since God was calling him
and he was signalling the things about to happen.
Υἱοῦ μὲν τὰ ῥήματα τότε παρεῖδε πιστὸς Ἀβραάμ,
καὶ τῆς θυσίας ἦν ἐργάτης ἰσχυρὸς …
οὐ τέκνου σκιρτῶντος, τοῦ θεοῦ δὲ καλοῦντος
καὶ σημαίνοντος αὐτοῦ τὰ μέλλοντα.
As we saw in previous chapters, Isaac’s ‘sacrifice’ prefigures Christ’s. The

time marker ‘then’ is opposed to ‘the things about to happen’. Romanos
reads and interprets the Old Testament with the New in mind, and assumes
that God did too: the omniscient God, knowing what was to happen to him
(in Christ) on the cross, made Isaac a type for his sacrifice. For Romanos,
the primary importance of the Old Testament is to point forward to Christ.
For the writer of Genesis, Isaac’s sacrifice was a way for God to test the faith
of his servant Abraham, but for Romanos, Abraham’s faith is not in ques-
tion – Isaac was sacrificed to prefigure the ultimate sacrifice.50
Like Isaac, Jonah, who is swallowed by the fish and then regurgitated
after three days (Jonah 1:17), was used as a type for the resurrection in
the Gospels (Matthew 12:40) and in very early Christian iconography.
Second-century wall paintings in the catacombs of Rome witness to this.51
In Romanos’ third resurrection hymn, he has the character of Hades make
the connection (XXVI.9.1–2):
Thus the big fish vomited up Jonah on the third day,
And now I vomit up Christ and all Christ’s beings.
Οὕτως Ἰωνᾶν τριταῖον τὸ κῆτος ἐξήμεσε·
νῦν κἀγὼ ἐμέσω Χριστὸν καὶ πάντας τοὺς ὄντας Χριστοῦ·
God forces Death to ‘vomit up’ Christ and all humanity on the third day, just
as he forced the fish to vomit up Jonah after three days (Jonah 1:17; 2:10).
Here the emphatic ‘and now I’ strengthens the comparison: previously it
49 Joseph similarly prefigures the resurrection in the hymn On Joseph I, because his father
thought he was dead and then he was restored to him (XLIII.37.7–10; Genesis 45:25–8).
50 In this, as we saw in Chapter 2, Romanos follows the tradition of Christian interpretation of
Isaac against contemporary Jewish interpretations. See Kessler (2004), 131–7.
51 On early Christian iconography, including depictions of early resurrection images like Isaac
and Jonah, see Jensen (2000).
127
Typology 127
was only a fish, but now it is Death himself. It is worth noting that in the
Old Testament story, Jonah himself calls the fish ‘Sheol’: ‘Out of the belly of
Sheol I cried, and you heard my voice’ (Jonah 2:2). Jonah’s descent into the
fish is portrayed as a descent into hell, so his release from the fish is a figure
of Christ’s resurrection. But even with this underworld typology for the fish
in mind, it is clear that the second ‘vomiting’ is the more drastic of the two.
It is not just Christ who is being released from Hades, but all his ‘beings’
(all humanity).
The importance of these two Old Testament figures for Romanos is that
they represent and foreshadow the crucifixion and resurrection; the Old
Testament is fundamentally christological. The lives of Isaac and Jonah are
prophecies of the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ and Christ is the
fulfilment of their stories. The fulfilment of these foreshadowings signals a
change in reality. The period of prophecy has come to an end and Romanos
recognizes a period of confirmation of prophecy and anticipation of the
second coming. Through these Old Testament types, Romanos enacts the
new reality.
In On Elijah (XLV.33.1– 3), the prophet Elijah’s ascent into heaven
(2 Kings 2:11–12) is a type for Christ’s ascension (Luke 24:51):
See, Elijah is a type of things to come,
after he was made ready he was received into the heavens.
For the Thesbite was taken up in a fiery chariot, as it was written.
And Christ was taken up amongst clouds and powers [i.e. angels].
Ἰδοὺ τύπος Ἠλίας τῶν μελλόντων
ἐν τῷ ὕψει στελλόμενος ἐδείχθη·
ὁ Θεσβίτης γὰρ ἀνελήφθη ἐπὶ ἅρματος
πυρός, καθὼς γέγραπται·
Χριστὸς δὲ ἀνελήφθη ἐν νεφέλαις καὶ δυνάμεσιν·
Elijah is Christ’s type but not his equal. The clouds and angels (‘powers’)
which accompany Christ’s ascension outdo Elijah’s fiery chariot.
Elijah’s gift of the mantle (2 Kings 2:13) prefigures Christ’s sending of the
Holy Spirit (XLV.33.4–7):
And [Elijah] sent his mantle to Elisha from the heavens,
but Christ sent down
to his apostles the Holy Paraclete whom we all received,
having received baptism, through which we are made holy …
ἀλλ’ οὗτος Ἐλισσαίῳ μηλωτὴν ἐξ ὕψους ἔπεμψεν,
ὁ Χριστὸς δὲ κατέπεμψε
128
τοῖς ἀποστόλοις τοῖς ἑαυτοῦ τὸν παράκλητον καὶ ἅγιον

ὃν πάντες ἐλάβομεν
οἱ τὸ βάπτισμα ἔχοντες, δι’ οὗ ἁγιαζόμεθα …
But Jesus’ gift far outweighs that of the prophet. Elijah sent down his mantle
to Elisha, bestowing a valuable gift of power on one man; Jesus sent down
the Holy Spirit which is a gift to all people and for eternity. Romanos uses
Elijah as a type for Christ, demonstrating that the Old Testament has been
fulfilled in Christ. This fulfilment signals that there is a new creation.
Romanos uses Old Testament people, images and events as typologies for
Christ, his crucifixion, resurrection and ascension, and to illustrate the sig-
nificance of these events in the divine plan of salvation. The wealth of Old
Testament typologies for Christ underscores his view of a transformed and
christologically informed temporality. Through his use of typology, Romanos
argues that he lives in a period of confirmation of prophecy, in which the past
is shown to be fulfilled in the present and the future. All of the Old Testament
is fulfilled in Christ, and is conflated and comes together in him.
Types for the Incarnation

The typologies Romanos uses for the incarnation and the virgin birth are
as diverse as those for the person of Christ. In these typologies, instead of
using particular figures or one single event as a type, Romanos often uses a
proliferation of Old Testament imagery. Miracles and paradoxes from the
Old Testament foreshadow the miraculous event of the incarnation. The
number of Old Testament miracles used for this purpose helps to illustrate
the extent to which the incarnation surpasses these miracles.
Romanos pulls out all the stops in his descriptions of the incarnation and
virgin birth. A multitude of different Old Testament miracles foreshadow
it. Mary is the bedewed furnace from Daniel 3:49–50 (XLVI.26), the fleece
on which Christ is the dew (Judges 6:36–8) (XXXVII.Pr.), and Aaron’s flow-
ering rod (Numbers 17:8) (XXXVII.Pr.). The incarnation is foreshadowed
by the parting of the Red Sea (Exodus 14:26–9) (XXXVI.8), and the manna
from heaven (Exodus 16:4) (XIX.6). And there are various types for Mary’s
virginity in particular (e.g. XXXVI.8, 9, 10; XXXVII.6; I.9).52
As we have already seen, one type for the virgin birth which recurs in the
kontakia is the burning bush (Exodus 3:2):53
There the angel of the Lord appeared to [Moses] in a flame of fire out of a bush; he
looked, and the bush was blazing, yet it was not consumed.
52 On Marian typology more generally in early Christianity, see Capelle (1954).

53 Hannick (1999), 214–15.
129
Typology 129
Gregory of Nyssa seems to have been the first to use the burning bush as
a type for the virgin birth in his Life of Moses (II.21).54 For Gregory, the
analogy is to the ‘flower’ of Mary’s virginity, which is not ‘consumed’ just
as the bush is not consumed. But Romanos does not focus on Mary’s per-
petual virginity here (although he does elsewhere). Rather, the growing
foetus is the fire and Mary’s whole body is the bush which miraculously
does not burn. In On the Nativity II, Mary herself explains the typology
(II.11.3–4):
There is a fire inhabiting my belly
and it does not consume me, the lowly one.
πῦρ ὑπάρχων ᾤκησέ μου
τὴν γαστέρα καὶ οὐ κατέφλεξεν ἐμὲ τὴν ταπεινήν·
The burning bush in Exodus was a miraculous revelation of God and a

type for God’s revelation in the incarnation. God reveals himself in the
pregnancy of Mary, both through her virginal conception and by the
impossibility of containing the immortal God within a mortal being.
Romanos performs the revelation and thus the new creation through his
fire typology.
This imagery is vividly employed by the character of Joseph in On the
Annunciation I (XXXVI.15.3–5):
O radiant one, I see a flame and fire encircling you.
Because of this, Mary, I am terrified.
Protect me and do not burn me.
Your blameless belly is suddenly a vessel full of fire.
Ὦ φαεινή, φλόγα ὁρῶ
καὶ ἀνθρακίαν κυκλοῦσαν σε·
διὰ τοῦτο, Μαριάμ,
ἐκπλήττομαι· φύλαξόν [[με]] καὶ μὴ φλέξῃς με·
κλίβανος πλήρης πυρὸς ἐγένετο ἄφνω
ἡ ἄμεμπτος γαστήρ σου.
Romanos uses alliteration and assonance in line 4 to draw attention to

Joseph’s fear (phlexēs) and plea for protection (phulaxon). Interestingly, in the
Exodus story, there is no thought of Moses fearing the burning bush. When
he sees the bush he says to himself, ‘I must turn aside and look at this great
sight, and see why the bush is not burned up’ (Exodus 3:3). It is only when
54 ‘From this we learn also the mystery of the Virgin: The light of divinity which through birth
shone from her into human life did not consume the burning bush, even as the flower of her
virginity was not withered by giving birth’: Malherbe and Ferguson (1978), 59.
130
the voice of God speaks to him from the bush that he is afraid (Exodus 3:4–
6). Comparing the two stories, Moses seems somewhat foolhardy, or Joseph
more enlightened. Moses has to be warned that he is on holy ground (Exodus
3:5), whereas Joseph is well aware of the holiness of the fire dwelling in Mary.
This may be part of Romanos’ concern to show that post-incarnation reality
is more enlightened than pre-incarnation reality. As we will see in the next
chapter, even great prophets from the Old Testament are unable to see God in
the way that ordinary people can after the incarnation.
We find another example of burning bush imagery in the proem to hymn
XXXVII, On the Annunciation II (XXXVII.Pr.):
Joseph was terrified, seeing this supernatural thing,

and in your unsown pregnancy, Theotokos,
he understood the rain on the fleece,
the bush unconsumed by fire,
the budding rod of Aaron.
And when he testified, mindful of you and as your guard,
he cried to the priests,
‘A virgin gives birth and after the birth remains still a virgin.’
Κατεπλάγη Ἰωσὴφ τὸ ὑπὲρ φύσιν θεωρῶν,
καὶ ἐλάμβανεν εἰς νοῦν τὸν ἐπὶ πόκον ὑετὸν
ἐν τῇ ἀσπόρῳ κυήσει σου, Θεοτόκε,
βάτον ἐν πυρὶ ἀκατάφλεκτον,
ῥάβδον Ἀαρὼν τὴν βλαστήσασαν·
καὶ μαρτυρῶν ὁ μνήστωρ σου καὶ φύλαξ
τοῖς ἱερεῦσιν ἐκραύγαζεν·
‘Παρθένος τίκτει καὶ μετὰ τόκον πάλιν μένει παρθένος.’
These three images (rain on the fleece, burning bush, Aaron’s rod) all describe
a wondrous connection between the divine and the mortal. The unsown
pregnancy and the name of Theotokos (God-bearer) are placed within the
list of other miracles to which the incarnation is likened. Yet in this one
miracle, Joseph sees the summation of the entire Old Testament: three Old
Testament miracles converge in the one event. For Romanos, the most
miraculous historical events cannot capture the incarnation.
The discourse is marked by excess, generated by the overflowing and
uncontained miracle of the incarnation. Romanos grasps at all available
imagery and finds it wanting. The excess and proliferation of his imagery,
like his use of paradox, is a function of his theological claims about the
excess and abundance of the new creation. Theological concerns generate
the distinctive poetic discourse of the kontakia even as that discourse per-
forms the theology. Through this abundant imagery, Romanos connects
13
Typology 131
significant moments in history in which God has achieved something

impossible and this one, world-defining moment which is both the fulfil-
ment of the others and truly surpasses them. He also acts out the change
in reality which marks the new creation by drawing together so many Old
Testament images into one eschatological event.
The three images which Romanos here associates with the incarnation and
Mary’s virginal conception all have different connotations. We have already
discussed those of the burning bush type. The image of the rain on the fleece
is a reference to the story of Gideon in the book of Judges (6:36–8):
Then Gideon said to God, ‘In order to see whether you will deliver Israel by my
hand, as you have said, I am going to lay a fleece of wool on the threshing floor; if
there is dew on the fleece alone, and it is dry on all the ground, then I shall know
that you will deliver Israel by my hand, as you have said.’ And it was so. When he
rose early next morning and squeezed the fleece, he wrung enough dew from the
fleece to fill a bowl of water.
Dew on the fleece is evidence of God’s intention to save Israel. Romanos

uses this image as a type for the virginal conception, accentuating its impli-
cations for human salvation. Just as the dew on Gideon’s fleece was proof
that God would save the Israelites in battle, so the virginal conception is
proof of God’s incarnation, through which he will eternally save humanity.
Importantly, for the typology of the virgin birth, the fleece is seen to remain
pure and uncorrupted despite being sprinkled with dew.55
The budding rod of Aaron is evidence of the power of God. God can
make dead wood bring forth buds, blossoms and almonds (Numbers 17:8).
In the same way, God can make a virginal womb fruitful. By using this type
for Mary’s conception, Romanos emphasizes the miraculous power of God.
The budding rod in the book of Numbers stands as a warning for those who
might doubt or rebel. Romanos’ use of this typology therefore fits nicely
with the reference to Joseph’s fear at the beginning of the strophe and his
testimony of Mary’s perpetual virginity at the end (after the rod type).
Mary’s virginal conception, pregnancy and birth-giving to the immortal
God is a miraculous set of events which is foreshadowed by but supremely
surpasses Old Testament miracles. This excess is, for Romanos, both a defin-
ing characteristic and important evidence of the reality of the new creation.
He works to enact that new reality, using typology to show the overflowing
fulfilment of the past in the ‘present’ incarnation.
55 John Chrysostom seems to have been most influential in such an interpretation of the dew on
the fleece. Through this image he emphasizes the gentleness of Christ’s descent to earth. See
Ladouceur (2006), 25–6. Ladouceur also draws a link between Chrysostom’s interpretation of
this image and its use in Marian hymnography: Ladouceur (2006), 26.
132
Types for Paradise

Paradise typology is harder to quantify than types for Christ or for the
virgin birth, since Romanos saw the incarnation as the inauguration of
the new paradise. Therefore, many of the images and typologies we have
already seen, like the reawakening of the senses, the types for the tree of life,
the multiple types for the virgin birth, are all metaphors for or typologies of
paradise too. In On Baptism, the sacraments of eucharist and baptism are
symbols of the new creation and ways in which humans enact that creation.
After the resurrection of Christ, the world is renewed and even Adam can
partake of these sacraments. Satan recognizes the change (LIII.4.5–10):56
The lump of earth [i.e. Adam] has been renewed, the dust made divine.
The poor and least called and washed, even the one who faltered as he entered.
He is drawn to the meal, he dares to eat
and has the courage to drink the one who created him.
And who granted him this? Surely it was
your resurrection.
ὁ χοῦς ἀνενεώθη, ἡ κόνις ἐθεώθη·
ὁ πένης καὶ ἐλάχιστος ἐκλήθη καὶ ἐλούσατο
καὶ εἰσελθὼν ἀνέπεσεν·
[[καὶ]] πρὸς δεῖπνον ἕλκεται, φαγεῖν ἐτόλμησε
καὶ πιεῖν ἐθάρρησεν αὐτὸν τὸν ποιήσαντα·
καὶ τίς τούτῳ δέδωκεν; πάντως
ἡ ἀνάστασις ὑμῶν.
Satan emphasizes the lowliness of Adam and the great daring he shows
in even approaching the table, let alone eating and drinking his God.
The image of the lowly earth eating the one which created it highlights the
generosity of God and the dramatic reversal of norms which followed the
incarnation, death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. Adam’s baptism and
communication at the eucharist are evidence that there is a new creation
right now, that humanity has been restored to relationship with God and
that humans continue to live out that new creation through the sacraments.
In a few kontakia, Romanos connects paradise explicitly with Christian
virtues or values. Purity is paradise in On Joseph II, in which Joseph likens
the advances of Potiphar’s wife to Eve convincing Adam to eat the forbid-
den fruit (XLIV.16).57 Purity and paradise are both associated with sweet
smells and abundance (line 5) and purity makes mortals shine like angels
56 On Satan’s role in this kontakion, see Frank (2013a).

57 For an analysis of this kontakion, especially the image of the athlete, see Barkhuizen (1990c),
91–106. See also Barkhuizen (1990b), 1–31.
13
Prophecy 133
(7). Joseph is a type of Christ and Christ-like behaviour. In On Fasting

(LI.4.3–6), paradise is gained by fasting, again contrasting the behaviour
of the first couple: Adam’s rejection of fasting (his gluttony in tasting the
forbidden fruit) is the cause of his death.58 Adam is the figure Christians
should strive not to imitate, who represents all the sin which Christ came
to remove. Through Christ-like living, enacting his purity and self-control,
Romanos argues that Christians participate in a present paradise.
And yet paradise also refers to the eschaton, the final consummation of
the new reality which God began at the incarnation. Romanos interprets
the story of the flood (Genesis 7:1–8:19) as a prophecy of the eschaton in
On Noah. The hymn is full of images of sin and destruction and refers many
times to the final purification of humanity by fire. Noah says (XL.10.9–11):
in this I will now be a prototype of the resurrection of the whole world,
in which you will save your righteous ones from the fire just as you save me
from the midst of the impious, in the wave of evils, snatching me away.
ἐν ταύτῃ προτυπώσω νῦν τὴν πάγκοσμον ἀνάστασιν,
ἐν ᾗπερ τοῦς δικαίους σου σῴζεις πυρὸς καθάπερ κἀμὲ
ἐκ μέσου ἀσεβῶν ἀφαρπάσας σῴζεις με ἐν κλύδωνι κακῶν
Romanos’ Noah recognizes his importance as a sign of future salvation. In

fact, in this passage all time is future – Noah’s salvation and that of the right-
eous – to emphasize the summation of all reality in Christ.59 Earlier in this
strophe the ark is connected both with a womb and a tomb, from both of
which Noah can emerge only at God’s command (lines 1–8). But the image
in these few lines is of the ark as the church: those in the ark/church will be
saved and those outside will perish.
Through his use of typology, Romanos argues that paradise is partly to
be lived now, in the example of Christ, within the church and following
Christ’s precepts. But it is also to be anticipated, looking forward to the final
consummation of God’s promises in the eschaton.
Prophecy
In the changed post- incarnation world which anticipates paradise

there is no need for prophecy: all prophecies looked forward to Christ’s
58 See also stanzas 21 and 22 in this kontakion.

59 The flood and Noah’s salvation from it were very early images of Christ’s resurrection and
the general resurrection. On these images in catacombs and early Christian art, see Jensen
(2000), 82–4.
134
incarnation, death and resurrection.60 Just as he uses typology to show

that the Old Testament looks forward to and is fulfilled by Christ’s life,
Romanos refers to a number of different prophecies that have been ful-
filled in Christ.61 In On the Massacre of the Innocents, Romanos claims the
fulfilment of Isaiah’s prophecy in the birth of Christ (III.2.3–9):
And the very thing which [Herod] was not expecting,
he learnt, paying attention to what the prophet said,
for Isaiah said ‘A child has been born for us,
and a son has been given to us.
He is the father of all and the lord of all ages.
He has authority on his shoulders
and his name will be called
Messenger of Great Counsel.’
καὶ ἅπερ οὐκ ἤλπιζε μελετήσας ἐξέμαθε
τὸν προφήτην τὸν λέγοντα·
φησὶ γὰρ Ἡσαί̈ας· ‘Παιδίον ἐγεννήθη
ἡμῖν καὶ οὕτως υἱὸς ἐδόθη ἡμῖν·
πάντων πατήρ ἐστι καὶ τῶν αἰώνων δεσπότης·
ἐπὶ τῶν ὤμων τὴν ἀρχὴν ἔχει·
τὸ ὄνομά δε αὐτοῦ καλεῖται
μεγάλης βουλῆς ἄγγελος’.
This is almost a word-for-word quote from the Septuagint translation of

Isaiah 9:5(6):
A child has been born for us, and a son has been given to us, authority has been set
upon his shoulder, and his name will be called Messenger of Great Counsel.
παιδίον ἐγεννήθη ἡμῖν, υἱὸς καὶ ἐδόθη ἡμῖν, οὗ ἡ ἀρχὴ ἐγενήθη ἐπὶ τοῦ ὤμου αὐτοῦ,
καὶ καλεῖται τὸ ὄνομα αὐτοῦ Μεγάλης βουλῆς ἄγγελος·
In Matthew’s Gospel (2:1–6), when Herod is visited by the wise men

from the East, he calls together priests and scribes to inform him about
prophecies regarding the Messiah’s birth. The passage they quote is not
this one, but rather one from the prophet Micah (5:2) which foretells the
birthplace of the Messiah. Romanos’ congregation probably heard this
reading from Matthew (2:1–12) in the week before (on the Feast of the
Nativity) and he is counting on it being fresh in their minds. He breaks
their expectations by quoting from Isaiah, and thereby gives more dra-
matic power to the fulfilment of this prophecy in Christ. Romanos
60 See MacCormack (1982), 292.

61 I do not quote all of them here. See also IV.9, XXVIII.6 and XXX.12.
135
Prophecy 135
uses Isaiah to show how pointless is Herod’s massacre of the innocent

children: if God is as powerful in the person of Jesus Christ, even as
an infant, nothing Herod can do will change what God has planned to
accomplish.
Romanos makes clever dramatic use of prophecy in On the Resurrection
II, depicting a succession of prophets in Hades speaking to Adam to declare
the fulfilment of their words (XXV.10):
In a sublime voice Sophonias cried out to Adam, ‘This is the one,
whom you awaited until the day of resurrection, as I proclaimed to you.’
And Nahum, after him, proclaimed good news for the poor man, saying,
‘He has risen from the earth, breathing upon your face,
he who sets free from affliction’,
and Zacharias crying out in joy, ‘You have come, our God,
with your holy [saints]’,
and David singing the good omens thus: ‘Power has woken up
and as if from sleep
the Lord is risen.’
Ὑψηλῇ τῇ φωνῇ ὁ Σοφονίας τῷ Ἀδὰμ ἀνεβόα· ‘οὗτος ἔστιν,
ὃν ὑπέμεινας εἰς ἡμέραν ἀναστάσεως, ὃν τρόπον προεῖπον σοι’·
Ναοὺμ δὲ μετὰ τοῦτον τὸν πτωχὸν εὐηγγελίζετο,
‘ἐκ γῆς ἀνέβη’, λέγων, ‘ἐμφυσῶν σου εἰς τὸ πρόσωπον,
[[ὁ]] ἐξαιρούμενος θλίψεως’,
καὶ Ζαχαρίας χαριεὶς κράζων· ‘ἦλθες ὁ θεὸς ἡμῶν
μετὰ τῶν ἁγίων σου’,
καὶ Δαβὶδ ψάλλων εὔσημα ὡς· ‘δυνατὸς ἐγήγερται
καὶ ὥσπερ ἀπὸ ὕπνου
ἀνέστη ὁ κύριος.’
This passage, and the whole kontakion, shows similarities with the apoc-
ryphal Gospel of Nicodemus (Part B), in which Christ’s harrowing of hell
is described in detail.62 In this text, patriarchs and prophets proclaim that
Jesus is the awaited Messiah, and Isaiah stands up and declares his proph-
ecy fulfilled (18.1). Romanos draws on this tradition, and perhaps on the
wider (classical and then Christian) tradition of descents into the under-
world, as he places four prophets side by side (often closely quoting from
62 For introduction, text and translation, see Ehrman and Plese (2011), 465–89. See also the
French translation and commentary: Gounelle and Izydorczyk (1997). On the motif of Christ’s
descent into hell more broadly, see Gounelle (2000). Gounelle argues that Romanos uses
this motif to emphasize the victory and miracle of the resurrection, so that his focus is on
Christ’s departure from the underworld with all the saints rather than Christ’s entry into the
underworld: Gounelle (2000), 222–5.
136
the Septuagint text). The prophets speak directly to Adam, showing the ful-
filment of their own words and pointing out the significance of the cruci-
fixion for him and all humanity. Line 2 is a close quote from Sophonias (or
‘Zephaniah’) 3:8, which refers to the final judgement day, the day on which
God will restore the fortunes of his people (see also Zeph. 3:14–20). Line
4 is almost an exact quote from Nahum 2:1 (LXX), a text which was often
interpreted as a prophecy of the advent of the Holy Spirit at Pentecost, the
occasion in which Christ breathed his spirit upon his disciples.63 Romanos
follows earlier theologians in interpreting Nahum’s words as a prophecy of
the renewal of life which Christ inaugurates: in the beginning God breathed
life into Adam and now he comes to renew that life, again breathing on the
face of the first man. In line 5 Romanos makes reference to a passage from
Zacharias (or ‘Zechariah’) (14:5) which again foretells the events of the
eschaton, declaring the advent of God with all the saints. The final prophecy
is taken from the book of Psalms (77[78].65: ‘Then the Lord awoke as from
sleep, like a warrior shouting because of wine’; καὶ ἐξηγέρθη ὡς ὁ ὑπνῶν
Κύριος, ὡς δυνατὸς κεκραιπαληκὼς ἐξ οἴνου) and Romanos reworks the line
to incorporate his refrain.64 In the psalm, this line is the culmination of
Israel’s history and the moment at which God angrily awakes and eternally
destroys his adversaries. In this passage, Romanos presents a parade of
prophets, all declaring their apocalyptic prophecies to be fulfilled in Christ,
in his crucifixion and descent into hell.
Humans are not yet in paradise, but the old world in which prophecies
are made has passed away. Romanos claims the fulfilment of Old Testament
prophecies to emphasize the new creation which the incarnation brings. All
prophecies are therefore interpreted christologically, since it is through and
in Christ that the transformation of the world has taken place.
Anti-Judaism: the Boundaries of the New Creation
Yet this transformation appears to have its limits. As we have seen, anti-
Jewish passages in the kontakia suggest that Romanos believed the Jews
were excluded from the new creation. We have noted the potential for
Romanos’ imagery to be socially damaging, but it is worth exploring this
aspect of his thought in more detail here.
63 Cyril of Jerusalem, Catechetical Lectures 17.12. See also Ferreiro and Oden (2003), 184.
64 Although Romanos attributes this prophecy to David, the psalm is one of Asaph. ‘David’ is a
generic term for ‘psalm’ in Romanos.
137
Anti-Judaism: The Boundaries of the New Creation 137
Two translators of Romanos’ hymns differ over his treatment of the Jews.
R. J. Schork claims Romanos’ work includes ‘frequent and virulent anti-
Jewish polemic’ which he attributes to ‘ethnic and sectarian bias – or to
the exaggerated zeal of a recent convert’.65 Romanos uses the word ‘Jews’
(Ioudaios) only nineteen times in his fifty-nine kontakia, so, at least at first
sight, calling his attack on the Jews ‘frequent’ seems to be an exaggeration.
In stark contrast, Ephrem Lash writes:
Romanos’ moderation towards the Jews, despite the mood of the day, was one of
the reasons cited by the great classical scholar Paul Maas, a Jewish emigrant from
Hitler’s Germany, for thinking that Romanos was himself of Jewish stock.66
Lash argues that Romanos believed God had a special plan for the Jews,
who would be saved at the eschaton.67 If Romanos did believe this, he would
have had modern theological opinion on his side, but would have been
extremely unusual in the sixth century.
Despite the problems with both of these opposing views, the fact that
each exists points to a difficulty in understanding Romanos’ opinions about
the Jews. In general, Romanos seems to think that Jews are not included in
the new creation, in particular that their rejection of Christ excludes them,
as Jews, from paradise. Yet he does not completely condemn them to eter-
nal punishment: there is one passage, as we will see, where Jews are made to
see the truth of Christianity in the eschaton.
Romanos uses typology to show that Christians are now God’s chosen
people, receiving this right from the Jews (XLII.19.1–10):
So, friends, observe these things precisely,
for all these things are proclaimed and inscribed in types.
Esau is a type for the Jews,
and Jacob is presented as an image of Christians,
since he deservedly received his brother’s blessing,
through his mother’s advice, foretelling [God’s] grace to me.
And Rebecca is clearly presented to me
as a type of Christ’s church
for, like her, the church also
brings its sons to the father of all.
Ὑμεῖς οὖν ταῦτα ἀκριβῶς κατανοήσατε, φίλοι·
τὰ πάντα γὰρ ἐν τύπῳ προερρέθη καὶ ἐγράφη.
65 Schork (1995), 5.
66 Lash (1995), xxvi. Unfortunately Lash does not cite Maas precisely, so I have been unable to
verify this statement.
67 That is, Lash thinks Romanos was not a supersessionist. See Lash (1995), 222 n. 12, 224 n. 24.
138
Ὁ Ἠσαῦ μὲν τύπος τῶν Ἰουδαίων ὑπάρχει,

Χριστιανῶν δὲ Ἰακὼβ εἰκόνα προέφερεν,
ὡς τὴν εὐλογίαν τὴν τοῦ συγγόνου
ἔλαβεν ἀξίως τῇ συμβουλίᾳ τῆς μητρὸς
τὴν χάριν προσημάνας μοι·
τύπος δὲ τοῦ Χριστοῦ τῆς ἐκκλησίας
καὶ ἡ Ῥεβέκκα μοι σαφῶς προδέδεικται·
καθάπερ γὰρ αὕτη καὶ ἡ ἐκκλησία
υἱοὺς προσάγει πατρὶ τῶν ὅλων·
Esau is a type for the Jews because he is the first born but both his birthright
and the blessing of his father (and God) go to his younger brother, Jacob,
who represents Christians. In Genesis, Esau gives up his birthright for food,
considering the immediate concerns of his body more important than his
position in the family, and is cheated out of his position and his father’s
blessing, both of which are bestowed on Jacob (Genesis 25:29–34; 27:18–
36). Rachel and Jacob are presented as schemers, using trickery to obtain
their goal. The result is the murderous anger of his brother, and Jacob is
forced to flee (Gen. 27:41–5). Although Jacob is blessed by God, who prom-
ises to protect him (Gen. 28:13–15), he is still seen as a usurper. By con-
trast, the Jacob of Romanos’ kontakion ‘deservedly’ received Esau’s blessing.
Romanos makes Esau a type for the Jews because they gave up their birth-
right in ignoring the Messiah and therefore do not deserve God’s blessing.
Christians are represented by Jacob because they receive the birthright and
the blessing, which were originally intended for the Jews. Jacob foreshad-
ows God’s benevolence to Christians when he receives the inheritance Esau
rejected and grasps Esau’s blessing. The church, represented by Rachel, is
the means by which Christians receive this inheritance.
By the sixth century, Romanos’ interpretation of this Old Testament story
was standard in Christian theology. Drawing on Paul (primarily Romans
9:6–13), early Christian theologians saw the struggle between an older and
a younger brother as prophetic of the strife between Jews and Christians,
and the blessing of the younger as proof of God’s choice of Christians over
Jews.68 In contemporary Jewish exegesis, however, Esau represents Rome
and therefore Christians, and Jacob is Israel.69 While Romanos’ exegesis
is traditional within Christianity, the fact that contemporary Jews were
employing an opposed (and no less traditional) typology may suggest dis-
cursive competition between the two communities.
68 See, for example, Justin Martyr, Dialogue with Trypho 134, and Irenaeus, Adversus Haereses
4.21. See Dunn (1998), 133–41.
69 Yuval (2006), 10–12.
139
The image of the Jews as the older brother also aligns with Romanos’
view that Jews remain wedded to the past, refusing to open their eyes to
the new creation. They are so fixated with their past glory that in On the
Resurrection V they believe they are behaving as their ancestors did under
the leadership of Joshua; they fail to recognize that they are in fact killing
the second Joshua (XXVIII.8.2). Likewise, in On the Entry into Jerusalem,
Romanos says (XVI.5):
The lawless ones, behaving unfairly, embraced ignorance,
and from then on were ignorant
about the one they planned to kill. They did not know him,
the sons of deceit!
What they say is not strange, for they remake the past.
When Moses led them out of Egypt
straightaway he was denied by them.
And Christ, who saved them from death, was just now unknown [by them].70
Those who knew the calf refused to know Moses,
The friends of Belial denied Christ.
For this reason they did not wish to cry out,
‘You are the blessed one who comes to call up Adam.’
Ἀγνωμονοῦντες ἄνομοι τὴν ἄγνοιαν ἠσπάσαντο,
καὶ δῆθεν ἠγνόησαν
ὃν κτεῖναι ἐσκέπτοντο· οὐκ ἠπίσταντο οἱ τοῦ ψεύδους υἱοί·71
οὐ ξένον ὅπερ λέγουσι· τὰ γὰρ πρῶτα καινίζουσι·
Μωσὴς ἐξαγαγὼν αὐτοὺς ἐξ Αἰγύπτου
εὐθὺς ἠρνήθη ὑπ’ αὐτῶν·
καὶ Χριστὸς ὁ σώσας αὐτοὺς ἐκ τοῦ θανάτου νῦν ἠγνοήθη·
ἠγνόησαν Μωσῆν οἱ γνόντες τὸν μόσχον,
ἠρνήσαντο Χριστὸν οἱ φίλοι Βελίαρ·
ὅθεν οὐκ ἠθέλησαν βοᾶν·
‘Εὐλογημένος εἶ ὁ ἐρχόμενος τὸν Ἀδὰμ ἀνακαλέσασθαι.’
Romanos draws on New Testament characterizations when he calls the

Jews ‘sons of deceit’ and ‘friends of Belial’.72 In John’s Gospel, Jesus himself
accuses the Jews of being the devil’s offspring (John 8:44–5):
You are from your father the devil, and you choose to do your father’s desires. He
was a murderer from the beginning and does not stand in the truth, because there
is no truth in him. When he lies, he speaks according to his own nature, for he is a
liar and the father of lies. But because I tell the truth, you do not believe me.
70 With the sense of ‘refusing to know’.

71 I have followed the punctuation in the SC edition here.
72 On the charge of deicide laid against the Jews, see 1 Thessalonians 2:14–16.
140
For the Gospel writer, the sins of the devil stem from his untruthfulness.
Romanos taps into this characterization: the sins of the Jews (lawlessness,
deceit, deliberate ignorance, denial) are all outcomes of their rejection
of truth.
But Romanos does not leave it there. He sets up a comparison between
the Exodus narrative and Christ’s crucifixion. Moses is a type for Christ;
Old Testament saviour is a type for the ultimate saviour. The Jews rejected
their first saviour and now they reject the second. Romanos presents them
as an unchanged people; they behave much as their ancestors did in the
escape from Egypt. But their fault is greater now: before they rejected a
temporary saviour, but now they reject the one who eternally saves them
from death; before they worshipped idols, but now Romanos presents them
as friends of the devil.
In On the Crucifixion, Satan encourages the Jews to be part of his plan to
crucify Jesus (XXI.8):73
Behold I see the Sanhedrin of the Jews
discussing it amongst themselves and being engrossed.
Do they perhaps want what I am planning?
So, approaching I will say, ‘Be men,
because you anticipate my plan.
So since you are very serious about it,
what do you say now, so that he might suffer,
the one who is everywhere, filling all things?’
Ἰδοὺ δὴ τῶν Ἰουδαίων τὸ συνέδριον βλέπω
καθ᾽ ἑαυτὸ ἀδολεσχοῦν καὶ ἀπησχολημένον·
τάχα ἃ λογίζομαι βουλεύονται;
ἐγγίσας οὖν εἴπω· ῾ἀνδρίζεσθε,
ὅτι τὴν βουλήν μου προλαμβάνετε·
ἐπειδὴ οὖν σπουδαιότεροι ἐστέ,
τί λέγετε νῦν, ἵνα πάθῃ
ὁ πανταχοῦ τὰ πάντα πληρῶν;᾽
Satan makes use of the Jewish hatred of Jesus to further his aims, but the
Jews are by no means unwilling partners. Romanos makes the Jews into
demons by giving them shared aims with the devil, even to the extent of
anticipating his plans. In the next strophe they report back to Satan about
their actions (XXI.9.3–8):
Put your mind at rest.
We have accomplished what you had planned.
73 See also XXII.2.6–8.

14
Let nothing worry you. Be carefree.

Jesus has been handed over and denied,
bound, given to Pilate,
[Jesus] who is everywhere, filling all things.
… Ἀπόθου τὴν φροντίδα σου·
ἃ εἶχες τελέσαι ἐτελέσαμεν·
μηδέν σοι μελήσει· ἀμερίμνησον·
παρεδόθη καὶ ἠρνήθη Ἰησοῦς,
ἐδέθη, ἐδόθη Πιλάτῳ
ὁ πανταχοῦ τὰ πάντα πληρῶν.
Short phrases in this passage make the actions of the Jews seem business-
like and complete. The use of cognates (line 4: telesai etelesamen) reinforces
the link between Satan and the Jews. The Jews characterize Jesus as passive
and beaten by their actions by their repeated use of passive verb forms, but
Romanos makes sure to undercut this in the refrain, which emphasizes that
Jesus cannot be confined. By giving this line to the Jews, spoken perhaps
as if they were mocking Jesus, Romanos ensures that the Jews themselves
become the mockery.
Romanos then uses the Old Testament stories of manna in the wilderness
(Exodus 16) and the golden calf (Exodus 32:1–10) to characterize the Jews
as lawless, fickle betrayers of God: after eating the manna God provided,
the Israelites then betrayed him and worshipped a golden calf (XXI.10). In
this case, Romanos puts the words into the mouth of Satan, who sees this as
evidence that the Jews are trustworthy partners of the devil (XXI.10). Satan
believes that the Jews only pretended to hate him, using words against him
but actions against God (XXI.11).
The devil also establishes the character of the Jews as bound by the Law
and yet lawless (XXI.12):74
I see that you uphold the letter of the Law of Moses
but you do not bind fast these things within your spirit.
You carry them about on your tongue and not in your thought.
You lift up the books in your hand,
but you touch them not at all in your heart.
Let him call you and believe you to be
readers and not understanders of the Scriptures,
the one who is everywhere, filling all things.
Ῥητὰ τοῦ νόμου Μωσέως βλέπω ὅτι κρατεῖτε,
ἀλλὰ μὴ σφίγξητε αὐτὰ ἐντὸς τῆς διανοίας·
74 On the Jews as lawless and their leaders as hubristic and stupid murderers, see also III.12.7.
142
γλώσσῃ καὶ μὴ γνώμῃ περιφέρετε·

χερσὶ τὰ βιβλία βαστάζετε,
φρεσὶ δὲ μηδ᾽ ὅλως αὐτῶν θίγετε·
ἀναγνώστας καὶ μὴ γνώστας τῶν γραφῶν
καλείτω ὑμᾶς καὶ ἡγείσθω
ὁ πανταχοῦ τὰ πάντα πληρῶν.
These words have greater force coming from the character of Satan. Not
only does Romanos say the Jews merely pay lip service to the Law, but he
makes it a compliment from the devil. Their behaviour makes the Jews the
perfect partners for Satan in all his actions, but particularly in his plans to
destroy the second Adam.
Finally, in On the Massacre of the Innocents, a kontakion all about the
fate of the children in Herod’s vicious campaign, Romanos uses the image
of fertility to denigrate the Jews: the land of the Jews is barren and not
filled with good (III.15.8), so the child Jesus leaves it behind (7) and goes
to Egypt, where the river Nile makes the land fruitful (9). Fruitfulness is
associated with Jesus but also with places external to Israel.
Most of the references to the Jews in Romanos’ kontakia fit into this
mould. The Jews participate in the crucifixion of Christ and so not only reject
the Messiah but actively help to kill him. These actions, which Romanos
says are just a continuation of their behaviour in the Old Testament, where
they frequently turn their backs on God, fit them to be allies of Satan and
exclude them from God’s second creation. Their choices have made their
land barren and isolated them from the flourishing paradise to which they
were originally called.
There is one passage, however, which would seem to cast doubt on
Romanos’ belief in the complete exclusion of Jews from the new paradise
(XXXIV.3.4–9):
And when things in heaven and on the earth and those under the earth altogether
glorify and worship Christ the crucified one
and clearly confess that he is God and the creator,
then the Jews, lamenting, will look upon the one whom they pierced.
The just will shine, crying out, ‘Glory to you,
Most Just Judge.’
ὅτε καὶ τὰ οὐράνια καὶ τὰ ἐπίγεια ἅμα καὶ καταχθόνια
δοξολογήσει καὶ προσκυνήσει Χριστὸν τὸν σταυρωθέντα
καὶ σαφῶς ὁμολογήσει ὡς θεός ἐστι καὶ κτίστης·
τότε Ἰουδαῖοι ὄψονται θρηνοῦντες εἰς ὅνπερ ἐξεκέντησαν·
οἱ δίκαιοι λάμψουσι κραυγάζοντες· ‘Δόξα σοι,
κριτὰ δικαιότατε.’
143
The phrase about the Jews is a reference to a passage from the prophet
Zechariah (12:10, 13:1):
And I will pour out a spirit of compassion and supplication on the house of David
and the inhabitants of Jerusalem, so that, when they look on the one whom they
have pierced, they shall mourn for him, as one mourns for an only child …
On that day a fountain shall be opened for the house of David and the inhabitants
of Jerusalem, to cleanse them from sin and impurity.
Reference to this passage suggests that Romanos believes the Jews will be
redeemed at the eschaton, and points again to the centrality of an analogical
reading of the Old Testament, which transforms it into a Christian frame
without eliminating it. But their lamentation is meant to imply a recan-
tation: the Jews will acknowledge their mistake in crucifying Christ and
repent and, having become Christians (by being baptized in the fountain),
they will be redeemed.75 This passage might imply that Romanos believed in
universal salvation. The revelation of Christ as God at the eschaton would
cause all non-believers to believe. All people, including Jews, would thus
become Christians at the end of time and would therefore be redeemed.
However, the key thing for our purposes is that Romanos does not allow
Jews to retain their identity as Jews in paradise: all will be made Christian.
How should we understand Romanos’ views about the Jews in the context
of wider Jewish–Christian relations? Many late antique Christian writers,
for whom the continuation of Judaism was a threat to their theology and
world-view, engaged in vehement anti-Jewish polemic. Such sentiments
also pervade other Christian writings which were not specifically written
against Jews and Judaism. Romanos fits into this latter category.
There has been debate in recent scholarship about the extent to which
early Christian and late antique anti-Judaic polemical texts reflect real sit-
uations and the extent to which ‘the Jew’ in such texts is a mere figure, a
straw man set up to aid Christian theological argument.76 But these ideas
seem to be too polarized. The anti-Judaism of these texts is neither entirely
about real conflicts nor entirely divorced from such conflict, making use
of a ‘hermeneutic Jew’.77 As we have seen throughout this book, there is no
such thing as ‘mere rhetoric’; the ‘hermeneutic Jew’ can be a hermeneu-
tic of violence. Rhetoric is performative and, in the case of anti-Judaism,
75 Romanos seems to use this passage from Zechariah in the same way as the writer of the Book
of Revelation (1:7). See Harrington (1993), 47.
76 On this debate and against the ‘straw man’ argument, see, for example, Carleton Paget (2010),
43–5, Jacobs (2004), 200–6.
77 Jacobs (2004), 207ff. For ‘the hermeneutic Jew’ see Cohen (1999).
14
Christian polemics perform both their hatred of and the power they have
over the Jews living in their Christian empire.78
Judaism was a threat to Christians on many levels. From apostolic times
on, there were competitions between Jewish and Christian groups over
converts, liturgy and ritual practices.79 Jewish and Christian communities
continued to live side by side for centuries, so there was naturally some
interaction between the two groups.80 Many theologians and preachers rec-
ognized that Judaism had a certain cultural appeal to their flock, so that
we hear of ‘Judaizing’ Christians who, although Christian, still celebrated
Jewish feasts, maintained certain Jewish rituals or viewed the synagogue as
a particularly sacred or mystical place.81 This practice, which blurred the
distinction between the two religions and so threatened the truth claims of
Christianity, was troubling to preachers like John Chrysostom and Ephrem
the Syrian.82 Chrysostom calls Judaizing practices a sickness, labelling
Judaizers as ‘half-Christians’.83 Their illness consisted in observing the prac-
tices of a religion which was a perversion, a rejection of God and his Son.84
Ephrem characterizes the Jews as blind, stubborn and shameful, and paints
them with the blood of Christ.85 He emphasizes circumcision as a defin-
ing characteristic of the Jews to support his argument that the categories
of ‘Jew’ and ‘Christian’ are mutually exclusive.86 Just as Chrysostom does,
Ephrem links contemporary Jews with their ancient forebears, arguing that
their wilful and persistent rejection of Christ has lost them the covenant
relationship with God.87
We can see that the ‘stubbornness’ of Jews in maintaining their faith
was a puzzle for Christians, who believed that the advent of Christ should
have meant the end of Judaism and the complete conversion of all Jews to
Christianity.88 So continuing Jews became a symbol of sin and separation
78 Jacobs (2004), 207.
79 Carleton Paget (2010), 55–6, Fredriksen and Irshai (2006), 988. Early polemics on both sides
are also part of self-definition: Boyarin (2007), 71–2.
80 Fredriksen (2007), 61–2.
81 On which phenomenon, see Gager (1983), 117–33, Wilken (1983). There were also ‘Jewish
Christians’ who were essentially Jewish but incorporated elements of Christianity into their
worship. See Frankfurter (2007), 134–5.
82 Sandwell (2007), 82–4.
83 Sandwell (2007), 83–4.
84 Sandwell (2007), 85.
85 Shepardson (2008), 34, 47, 50–1.
86 Shepardson (2008), 38.
87 Shepardson (2008), 48–59, 81, 85–6.
88 It is for this reason that Judaism was sometimes referred to as a heresy. See Cameron
(2007), 357.
145
Conclusions 145
from God and therefore a blot to be wiped out before the second coming of
the Messiah. One reading of the history of God’s action in the world is that
after Jesus, God’s promise to Israel is replaced or superseded by a promise
to Christians (supersessionism). While such a reading may not be true to
Paul, it was normal in the sixth century.89
Romanos may well have been responding to conflict between Jews and
Christians in the sixth century. The emperor Justinian had interfered in
Jewish religious matters by legislating that the scriptures must be read in
Greek (or the local language) in the synagogue.90 Justinian also excluded
several laws protecting Judaism and the rights of Jews, even removing the
statement of Judaism’s legality, in his codification of the law.91 Malalas men-
tions rioting amongst Jews, Samaritans and Christians in Palestine in 529
and 556 (18.35; 18.119). Procopius refers to the forced conversion of Jews
and the re-sanctification of synagogues as churches (Buildings 6.2.21–3).92
This all points, at the very least, to an ongoing animosity between the two
groups. From the other side, anti-Christian polemic marks much contem-
porary Jewish hymnography.93 Romanos’ theological claims about the sin
of the Jews in the time of Christ helped his congregation glory in the new
creation but it would also have resonated with such sixth-century conflicts.
Romanos’ listeners would certainly have been aware of the contemporary
situations and his comments would therefore have played into existing
hatred, fear and unease about the Jewish people living in Constantinople.
Conclusions
The idea of new creation permeates Romanos’ hymns. The world is a dra-
matically different place after the incarnation than what it was before. The
life of Christ and his death and resurrection are the fulfilment of all history.
But Romanos is aware that the world does not look very different, that it
is necessary to argue strongly for a changed reality in a still very broken
89 This has been emphasized by the so-called ‘new perspective’ on Paul, for which see Dunn
(2007).
90 For an interpretation of Novel 146 as an attempt by Justinian to eradicate the use of Hebrew in
synagogues, see Rutgers (2003). Perczel suggests Pseudo-Caesarius could have been involved
in the preparation of this law, based on the anti-Jewish polemic in his Erotapokriseis: Perczel
(2006), par. 32.
91 De Lange (2005), 420.
92 There is some archaeological evidence for this, but also evidence of new synagogues being
built. See De Lange (2005), 406.
93 On anti-Christian polemic in Hebrew poetry, see Van Bekkum (1993).
146
world. Rhetoric and liturgical experience come to Romanos’ aid. He makes

his case through the rhetorical devices of paradox and typology. Paradox
enacts the new creation by combining conflicting realities. Typology brings
together Old and New Testament events, illustrating that the Old Testament
is fulfilled and surpassed by the New and that the time of prophecy has
come to an end. All prophecies are brought to fruition in Christ. Both these
devices are also used to show that the Jews are not part of this new creation.
Yet Romanos recognizes that the world has not ultimately been perfected.
His kontakia also exhibit a strong sense of anticipation of the final eschato-
logical event: the second coming of Christ. As the final consummation of
God’s actions in Christ, the eschaton is an event which Romanos wants his
congregation to look for with anticipation. But how are they to prepare for
this coming event? The following chapter investigates how Romanos makes
his congregation participate in this new creation and how he believes they
should live in preparation for the final resurrection.
147
4 The Second Coming: A Theology

of Time and Liturgy
Romanos’ conception of the second creation drives him both to encourage

participation in it now and to direct his listeners to anticipate its ultimate
consummation in the second coming of Christ. Participation in the present
new creation means taking part in the life of Christ and in the perfected
humanity of Christ. This is also part of anticipation of the second coming.
One central way in which this participation takes place is in the liturgy,
which regularly makes the events in the life of Christ present realities. The
kontakia are liturgical texts, probably performed, as we have seen, as part
of the night vigil which ended at the Great Church for the Sunday eucha-
ristic service.1 By drawing attention to the participatory parts of the lit-
urgy, Romanos re-enacts and reinforces liturgical participation through his
kontakia. Romanos’ conceptualization of liturgical time and the dramatic
nature of the kontakia enable him to draw his congregation into participa-
tion in Christ and his new reality and focus their minds on the approaching
eschaton. Participation in Christ and his new creation happens in different
ways: liturgical participation, participation in the Gospel stories and partic-
ipation in Christ-like models. The rhetorical techniques of ekphrasis, char-
acterization and apostrophe are the important ones here: Romanos brings
the biblical narratives to life through such devices, making the congrega-
tion eyewitnesses and participants in the events and presenting them with
models of behaviour. In these ways, Romanos directs them in Christ-like
living in preparation for the second coming.
Liturgical Time
The Divine Liturgy partakes of eternity. In the liturgy past, present and future
are telescoped. Liturgical time is time in its fullness, experienced as a simul-
taneous whole. Worship taking place on earth in Constantinople was consid-
ered to be one with worship taking place in heaven and throughout the ages.
Frank (2006), 59–78, Koder (2005), 21, Krueger (2005), 297, Lingas (1995), 50–2, Louth (2005),
1
199–200, McGuckin (2008), 649–50. The setting of the kontakion is also discussed in the
Introduction to this book. 147
148
148 The Second Coming: A Theology of Time and Liturgy
Past and present events converge, paradigmatically, in the eucharist.2 John

Chrysostom argued that the eucharist makes the incarnation present:3
For if we attend [the eucharist] in faith, we will definitely see him lying in the man-
ger; for the table itself fulfils the position of the manger.
καὶ γὰρ, ἂν μετὰ πίστεως παραγενώμεθα, πάντως αὐτὸν ὀψόμεθα ἐπὶ τῆς φάτνης
καίμενον· ἡ γὰρ τράπεζα αὕτη τάξιν τῆς φάτνης πληροῖ.
The eucharist makes present at once the incarnate life of Christ. Theodore
of Mopsuestia believed that at the eucharist Christ died, rose and ascended
into heaven again.4 This understanding of the sacrament makes sense
within liturgical time, time in its fullness, a time which participates in
God’s eternal comprehension of all historical time.5 Such a view of time
was available to Romanos in contemporary theologians and philosophers,
who distinguished eternity as continuing temporal duration from eter-
nity as the simultaneous atemporal apprehension of all time. This latter
atemporal eternity was characteristic of divinity. This logical division is
conceptually similar to Romanos’ view of the fullness of liturgical time,
but his poetry does not dwell on the philosophy. Rather, his hymns are
partly generated by, and partly seek to deepen the experience of, the lit-
urgy as the place where all time converges by bringing the worshipper
into the presence of God. Where Chrysostom had emphasized the alter-
ation of standard temporal succession in the eucharist, Romanos extends
this claim to the sermon, and, through wide-ranging injunctions in the
hymns, to the rest of the liturgy. Past, present and future converge in
the kontakia. This convergence is partly performed through, and partly
governed by, rhetorical participation.6 Romanos’ hymns encourage wor-
shippers to experience time in a new way in the liturgy and thereby to
participate in the divine life.
A similar view of the fullness of liturgical time is evident in the Christian
Topography of the roughly contemporary sixth- century writer Cosmas
Indicopleustes. Cosmas also believed that the incarnation meant a dramatic
change in time and history. Citing Matthew 11:13, Cosmas argued that the

2
Schulz (1986), 15.

3
Hom. de beato Philogono 6 (PG 48, 753).

4
Commentary on the Eucharist. See Mingana (1933), 83.

5
M. S. Champion has analysed a similar ‘fullness of time’ in the fifteenth-century low
countries: M. S. Champion (2014).
6 The idea of eternal time as opposed to linear, historical time is also used by Cyril of Jerusalem
(among others) in his Mystagogical Catecheses. In the fourth lecture (On the Body and Blood of
Christ) he says that the bread of the Old Testament came to an end, but ‘in the New Testament
there is the bread of heaven’ (Section 5). Translation taken from Yarnold (2000), 180.
149
Liturgical Time in Romanos’ Kontakia 149
time of prophecy came to an end with the advent of John the Baptist and
that all prophecies were fulfilled in Christ (CT II.73).7 For Cosmas, this has
important political implications. The time of prophecy has come to fulfilment,
which means that Daniel’s prophecy of the fifth and everlasting kingdom must
also be fulfilled (Dan. 2:44–5). Since Rome became an empire at the time
of Christ’s incarnation, the Roman empire must be God’s kingdom and the
emperor God’s regent on earth (CT II.66–71).8 The Roman empire is therefore
eternal and time itself is telescoped, so that past, present and future no longer
exist and everything takes place ‘now’.9 Cosmas believed that the incarnation
occasioned a dramatic change in reality. This does not mean, however, that his
eschatology was fully realized; he still awaits the second coming.
The fact that similar ideas appear in two such different but contempo-
rary authors suggests that these concepts were more generally important
in the empire in the sixth century. MacCormack has pointed to the impor-
tance of new creation for Cosmas’ political thought and in particular for later
Byzantine political theory.10 It seems unlikely that politics was Romanos’ driv-
ing purpose, even if it may have been in some hymns or on some level,11 but
the comparison with Cosmas’ work does show some continuity of eschatologi-
cal ideas throughout the empire in the sixth century and the potential political
implications of his theology.
Liturgical Time in Romanos’ Kontakia
In many of his hymns Romanos talks about the Gospel events as if

they are happening right now: ‘today the Virgin gives birth to the one
above being’ (ἡ παρθένος σήμερον τὸν ὑπερούσιον τίκτει) (I.Pr.1); ‘today
the foundations of the earth trembled’ (σήμερον ἐταράττετο τῆς γῆς τὰ
θεμέλια) (XX.Pr.1).12 These statements heighten the drama of the hymns; it
is as if Romanos opens a theatrical performance, like an actor reciting the
prologue of a play.13 He simultaneously brings the events to his listeners
See also MacCormack (1982), 292.

7
See also MacCormack (1982), 292–3.

8
MacCormack (1982), 302. See also Champion (2006), 387.

9
10 MacCormack (1982), 302.
11 See, for example, Varghese (2006). Koder argues that the kontakia may have helped increase
devotion to the emperor: Koder (2010).
12 These are just two of many instances.
13 On the possible existence of theological plays performed in the liturgy, see La Piana (1936),
esp. 178ff. Although this idea is appealing, it has long been shown to be fairly implausible. See,
for example, Baud-Bovy (1938a), 321, 329, 334.
150
and his listeners to the events. The congregation is invited not only to
view the events of Christ’s life as they unfold, but also to take part in the
drama of the Gospel stories. Romanos calls on his listeners: ‘Let us rush
to the God-bearer, we who wish to see her son brought before Symeon’
(Τῇ θεοτόκῳ προσδράμωμεν οἱ βουλόμενοι κατιδεῖν τὸν υἱὸν αὐτῆς | πρὸς
Συμεὼν ἀπαγόμενον) (IV.1.1–2). It is possible to see many parallels both
with ancient drama and with modern narrative techniques in film and
literature in these dramatic statements. But, unlike that of the tragedian
or the modern film-maker, Romanos’ invitation is not simply dramatic;
it is most importantly theological. Through it he emphasizes the pres-
ent reality of the new creation: Gospel events take place ‘now’ (V.Pr.1–2;
VII.4.8–9, my emphasis):
Today you appeared to the inhabited world,
and your light, Lord, was signalled to us;
Ἐπεφάνης σήμερον τῇ οἰκουμένῃ
καὶ τὸ φῶς σου, κύριε, ἐσημειώθη ἐφ’ ἡμᾶς
… and just now at the marriage he changes its [i.e. water’s] nature again,
the one who made all things in wisdom.
ἐν τοῖς γάμοις δὲ ἄρτι φύσιν πάλιν μεταβάλλει
ὁ τὰ πάντα ἐν σοφίᾳ ποιήσας.
As we have seen above, the baptism of Christ and the miracle in Cana (to take
the examples of these two hymns) are not merely historical events – they
transcend temporality and are present in sixth-century Constantinople. In
the first example, taken from On the Baptism of Christ, sometimes called
On the Holy Theophany,14 Romanos asserts that the revelation of Christ as
God at his baptism is not merely a single point in time. It is an event which
recurs ‘today’, the day on which Christ’s baptism is celebrated by the church.
In this event Jesus was revealed as God to historical figures like John the
Baptist and to ‘us’ at the same moment.
In On the Marriage at Cana, before the two lines quoted above, Romanos
makes a comparison between Old and New Testament events. He describes
the Old Testament miracles in Egypt (Exodus 7ff.) as past events (VII.4.2–7):
He who long ago showed the power of miracles to the Egyptians
and the Hebrews themselves.
For then the nature of water was miraculously changed into blood.
He brought ten-plague-anger against the Egyptians,
14 Ephrem Lash uses this title: Lash (1995), 37–47.

15
Liturgical Time in Romanos’ Kontakia 151
he prepared a passable sea for the Hebrews,

which they quickly travelled through as though on dry land.
In the desert he supplied water from a rock for them …
ὁ πρώην Αἰγυπτίοις δείξας
καὶ Ἑβραίοις αὐτοῖς τῶν θαυμάτων τὴν δύναμιν·
τότε μὲν γὰρ εἰς αἷμα ἡ τῶν ὑδάτων φύσις
θαυμαστῶς μετεβάλλετο·
δεκάπληγον ὀργὴν Αἰγυπτίοις ἐπῆξε,
τὴν θάλασσαν βατὴν τοῖς Ἑβραίοις παρέσχεν,
ἣν ὡς χέρσον σπουδαίως διώδευσαν·
ἐν τῇ ἀνύδρῳ ὕδωρ χορηγεῖ ἀπὸ τῆς πέτρας αὐτοῖς,
The miracles in Egypt took place ‘long ago’ and ‘then’. By contrast, the life of
Christ is ever-present: the miracle at Cana takes place ‘now’. The similarity
of the two miracles creates a typological link between the two events: the
changing of water into blood foreshadows the changing of water into wine.
Romanos shows continuity between the God of the Old Testament and
that of the New; the second miracle is inextricably linked to the first: God
changes the nature of water ‘again’. Romanos uses the verb ‘to change’ to
refer to both miracles, placing the verb in the same position each time, so
that the contrast between what happened in the past and what is a present
reality is even more striking.
There is one event which he talks about as a future event, seemingly
reverting to a linear idea of time. This is the eschaton, the second com-
ing of Christ and final judgement. In the second hymn on the resurrection
(XXV.22.4), Romanos says:
For you will come, my saviour, not as just now from the tomb,
but from the firmament.
ἐλεύσῃ γὰρ, σωτήρ μου, οὐχ ὡς ἄρτι ἐκ τοῦ μνήματος
ἀλλ’ ἐκ τοῦ στερεώματος
Once again the New Testament event, the resurrection of Christ, is a pres-
ent event that has happened ‘just now’. But Romanos uses the future tense
(eleusē) to refer to Christ’s second coming, the final resurrection. This
may, however, be understood within the general picture of the fullness of
liturgical time, past, present and future, in Romanos’ kontakia. Of course
he does not think that he is currently in paradise. In his kontakion On
Earthquakes and Fires, for instance, Romanos’ awareness of human frailty
and sin and the devastating effects of natural and man-made disasters
is all too obvious (e.g. stanzas 13 and 14). Paradise does not yet exist on
earth. So Romanos holds in tension the idea of the present new creation
152
and that of the coming eschaton and final consummation of that creation.
The incarnation was an eschatological event, which changed the nature of
reality. He accentuates this by the concept of liturgical time: prophecies
are fulfilled, all history culminates in the incarnation and we may antic-
ipate the coming paradise by enjoying the divine liturgy now. And yet
Romanos still looks for the final consummation of God’s promise. In this
sense, the period in between the incarnation and the eschaton (in which
Romanos lives) is one in which prophecies are confirmed and in which
anticipation reigns. The future revelation of divine glory can be experi-
enced as present anticipation.
Participatory Theology
Both the present reality of Christ and the present anticipation of his future
advent require Christians to live Christ’s life, to participate in his earthly
life and his perfect humanity. But how do humans do this? Romanos
argues, as we saw in Chapter 2, that Christ corrects and perfects human-
ity. He draws attention to this changed human nature through the senses.
Sight, hearing, taste, smell and touch are such physical human qualities
that a change in them is dramatic. In On the Epiphany and On the Nativity
II, Romanos makes explicit the fallen state of humanity before the incar-
nation and its redemption by God. The first stanza of On the Epiphany
begins thus (VI.1.1):
For Adam, blinded in Eden, the sun appeared from Bethlehem
τῷ τυφλωθέντι Ἀδὰμ ἐν Ἐδὲμ ἐφάνη ἥλιος ἐκ Βηθλεέμ
The blindness represents the darkness which Adam inhabits: his fallen
state, his humanity, his lack of faith or spiritual understanding, his death.
And, since Adam represents all fallen humanity, the blindness is also gen-
eral human blindness. The physical nature of the affliction makes it easier
for the congregation to imagine and relate to it. Christ is the Sun which
enables him to see: Adam is brought from the darkness of sin into the light
of heaven by Christ’s actions. But the literal meaning of blindness is also
important, since it highlights the goodness of sight. Lack of sight is asso-
ciated with darkness and sin, whereas sight is connected with light and
the divine. Blindness represents the state of humanity after the Fall, and
sight its state after its redemption by Christ. The fruit which in Genesis
3:6–8 causes Adam’s eyes to be opened to his nakedness is described by
Romanos as ‘blind-making’ (VI.2.1). By turning away from God and eating
153
Participatory Theology 153
the forbidden fruit Adam could only destroy his sense of sight, not improve
it. Christ alone can restore Adam’s sight.
Yet it is not only the sinful Adam who cannot see; other Old Testament
figures in On the Epiphany are partially blind. God did not reveal himself
to Abraham but appeared like a man (stanza 4), Jacob wrestled with God
at night but did not see him (5), Moses only saw God’s back (6) and Isaiah
saw God only with his spiritual eyes after death and not with bodily eyes
(7). Romanos contrasts pre-and post-incarnation figures: those born after
the incarnation can truly see God (VI.7.3–5):
The prophet saw in the slumber of his spirit, not with the eyes of his body;
but we, with our fleshly eyes, see
the Lord of Sabaoth …
εἶδεν ἐν κατανύξει πνεύματος ὁ προφήτης, οὐκ ἐν ὄμμασι σώματος·
ἡμεῖς δὲ σαρκικοῖς ὀφθαλμοῖς θεωροῦμεν
κύριον Σαβαὼθ …
The senses have been redeemed through the incarnation. Adam’s ‘blind-
making fruit’ marred human sight throughout history, even that of the great
prophets. But at the incarnation humanity was redeemed – perfected – and
so was the sense of sight. Romanos accentuates this redemption through
the physical imagery of ‘body’ and ‘flesh’: true (perfected) humanness is
now the way to know God (VI.8.1–3, 7–8):
The eyes of the earthborn are able to see the heavenly form
The eyes of clay beings behold the immaterial light’s beam
that cannot be concealed,
which prophets and kings do not see, but desire to see …
We are not in a dream, but are alert, for we are not of the night.
In the day we see God embodied …
ἴσχυσαν ὄμματα τῶν γηγενῶν οὐράνιον θεωρῆσαι μορφήν·
κατεῖδον βλέφαρα πηλίνων τοῦ ἀΰλου φωτὸς
τὴν ἀκτῖνα τὴν ἄστεκτον,
ἥντινα οἱ προφῆται καὶ βασιλεῖς οὐκ εἶδον, ἀλλ’ ἰδεῖν ἐπεθύμησαν. …
οὐ φανταζόμεθα, ἀλλὰ νήφομεν· οὐ γὰρ ἐσμὲν τῆς νυκτός·
ἐν ἡμέρᾳ ὁρῶμεν θεὸν σεσωματωμένον …
Romanos uses variation and repetition to reinforce the miracle: two dif-
ferent words for ‘eyes’ (ommata, blephara) and repetition of ‘see’ in variant
forms. In the incarnation, in God embodied, darkness has given way to
light and humans are entwined once again with heavenly things. The dream
of the pre-incarnation world is over: humans are now awake and can see
God with their perfected human eyes.
154
Romanos makes the incarnation the central focus of this hymn on the
epiphany, using the event that reveals Christ’s divinity to show the impor-
tance of his humanity: in the incarnation Christ perfects humanity, bring-
ing humans nearer to God: ‘He became human so that you might be divine’
(ἐγένετο θνητός, ἵνα σὺ θεὸς γένῃ) (VI.3.5).15 So reality has changed as a result
of God becoming human. But what does this mean for Romanos’ congrega-
tion? How are they to take part in this changed reality?
Liturgical Participation
Romanos’ theology of liturgy is central to this question of congregational

participation. His understanding of ways worshippers participate in the life
of Christ sits within a wider tradition of liturgical participation. So it is
worth considering aspects of church architecture and the wider liturgy that
inform his poetry. Through this necessarily brief exploration we will gain
insight into the sixth-century experience of participation through church
attendance.16 Thus, when we come to explore in detail Romanos’ methods
of engaging his congregation, we will see how he makes use of the existing
tradition and draws on normative conventions and practices to facilitate
worshippers’ participation in the new creation.
Art and Architecture

In theological tracts, sermons and even secular literature, churches were
seen as symbols of heaven and paradise, places in which God himself dwelt.17
The sixth-century historian Procopius made this claim for the newly rebuilt
Hagia Sophia (Buildings I.1.61), which epitomized the ‘heavenly’ church.18
John Chrysostom characterized churches thus:19
For the church is not a barber’s shop, nor a perfumery, nor some workshop of men
in the agora, but the place of angels, the place of archangels, the kingdom of God,
heaven itself.
15 This is a paraphrase of Athanasius’ statement in Festal Letter 10.8, and is evident elsewhere in
Athanasius. See further in Chapter 2 above. By the sixth century, this exchange formula (God
became human that humans might become God) was standard theology.
16 For a discussion of participants’ experience of the liturgy, based on their position in the church
and what they could see, touch, hear and do, see Caseau (2013), 59–77.
17 See Taft (1995), 19, Wybrew (1990), 4.
18 Doig (2008), 68, Taft (1995), 19, (2008), 600. The idea that the place of worship unifies gods
and men is not, of course, an exclusively Christian concept.
19 Homilia in epistolam primam ad Corinthios PG 61 col. 313.
15
Liturgical Participation 155
οὐ γὰρ κουρεῖον, οὐδὲ μυροπωλεῖον ἡ ἐκκλησία, οὐδὲ ἐργαστήριον ἕτερον τῶν ἐπ’
ἀγορᾶς, ἀλλὰ τόπος ἀγγέλων, τόπος ἀρχαγγέλων, βασιλεία θεοῦ, αὐτὸς ὁ οὐρανός.
Three lowly buildings are balanced by three lofty ones, culminating in

‘heaven itself ’.20 Chrysostom goes on to say that the things which take place
in the church are likewise a heaven: worship on earth partakes in heavenly
worship. Church building was therefore based on the idea of the fullness of
time and the telescoping of divine and human experience.
This fullness of time was matched by a fullness of space for Theodore of
Mopsuestia, who saw particular parts of the church as representing the loca
sancta (holy places in Palestine where events in Christ’s life took place).21
In his commentary on the eucharist, for instance, Theodore states that the
altar (of any church) represents the tomb in which Christ was laid, and that
the act of placing the eucharistic bread on the altar therefore symbolizes the
placing of Christ’s body in the tomb.22 Through the liturgy, therefore, the
‘pilgrim’ worshipper is taken on a journey to the Holy Land to experience
the events of the Passion first hand.
Churches which were built in the actual loca sancta (such as the Church of
the Holy Sepulchre in Jerusalem) performed the continuing significance of
the events they commemorated – their present reality in the life of believers.23
The crucifixion and resurrection are eschatological events, events which alter
the nature of reality and anticipate the future reign of God. In commemo-
rative churches, worshippers experienced in the present not merely the past
historical event but, more significantly, the new creation revealed by these
past events. By granting believers access to a past event, therefore, worship-
pers in fact experienced reality in an anticipatory mode – they anticipated
the reign of God by participating in an eschatological space.
Architectural mimesis enabled the loca sancta to transcend temporal
and spatial boundaries.24 By designing a church to look like the Church
of the Holy Sepulchre in Jerusalem, for example, one could make the Holy
Sepulchre present in that church, albeit a long distance from Jerusalem.
Pilgrims who had visited the first, or worshippers who had heard it
20 On the Byzantine image of the imperial court as heaven, see Mango (1980), 151–5.
21 Meyendorff (1985), 358. On the development of the concept of loca sancta in early Christian
thought, see Markus (1994). Supporting Markus on the historicization of the liturgy, see
Meyendorff (1985), 352. On the art at the holy places of Palestine, see Weitzmann (1974). On
the wide reception of Theodore of Mopsuestia, see Becker (2006).
22 Mingana (1933), 86 (Chapter 5).
23 On the role these churches played in giving significant events historical and temporal bases,
see Loerke (1984), 34. See also Cardman (1982), Frank (2001), 628–9. On the role that loca
sancta played in helping pilgrims to memorize Gospel narratives, see Frank (2006a).
24 MacCormack (1990), 28–9.
156
described, would be transported to Jerusalem when they entered the new

church. In this way, the biblical events which were made present at the loca
sancta could also be made present in the imitative church. Participation in
Christ’s death and resurrection in Jerusalem could be transported to any
similarly designed church in the empire. And, since all Christian churches
grant believers access to eschatological events, all Christian churches could
to some extent represent these loca sancta. All church buildings thus helped
to emphasize the role of anticipation in the Christian life.
Liturgical festivals further underscored this sense of participation by antic-
ipation, and also helped to make the fullness of time a lived experience for
sixth-century Christians. At the festival of, for instance, the annunciation or
the crucifixion, every church became the place of commemoration of the
event. This became a more powerful and unified symbol in the sixth century
when certain feasts were given fixed and universal dates. Before the emperor
Justinian formalized them, the feasts of the annunciation and Christmas were
given different dates by different groups of worshipping Christians.25 Justinian
insisted on 25 March for the annunciation and 25 December for Christmas.26
These festivals helped to shape the liturgical year and, by making them univer-
sal, Justinian strengthened their authority and importance, building into the
Christian calendar anticipation of the annunciation and nativity of Christ.
Church decoration of the period was also designed to draw the viewers
into the action of the event depicted, and, crucially, onwards into the changed
reality of divine glory which the event is believed to have achieved.27 Such
artworks therefore also helped the believer to anticipate the divine glory of
the new creation. The events are represented symbolically and not exhaus-
tively so that the viewer has to complete the action of the story: viewer
becomes participant.28 The scene in the apse at Sant’Apollinare in Classe,
for instance, is only identifiable as a depiction of Christ’s transfiguration if
one can interpret the symbols. It is not narrative. The viewer needs to rec-
ognize the cross in the mandorla as a symbol of the transfigured Christ, and
recall the presence of Moses and Elijah at the transfiguration. The viewer
participates in the images and thereby in the stories which they depict by
decoding their symbols. Liturgical setting is also often a clue to interpret-
ing decoration, and once more draws the viewer into participation in the
image. At San Vitale, in Ravenna, four Old Testament characters and stories
are depicted in the sanctuary which were considered types of Christ’s sac-
rifice and the eucharist. Once again, the stories are not narrative, and it is
25 On the anti-Chalcedonian problems with the date of Christmas, see van Esbroeck (1968), 368.
26 Allen (2011), 121, van Esbroeck (1968), 371.
27 Loerke (1984), 30. On the ability of icons to do this, see Brown and MacCormack (1975).
28 Loerke (1984), 30.
157
partly their link to the crucifixion and the celebration of it in the eucharist
which enables the viewer to interpret the images.
Artists played into and expanded these experiences of participation in
and anticipation of heavenly reality through colour and light. The Byzantines
did not describe colour in terms of hue, but rather in terms of its brightness
or dullness.29 Paul the Silentiary’s description of Hagia Sophia, for example,
focuses more on the brilliance of the artworks than on their use of particu-
lar colours (668–72).30 John Chrysostom asserts that colour makes an image
recognizable: it is a mere outline until someone ‘paints the brightness and
smears over the colour’ (In epistulam ad Hebraeos, PG 63, 130A).31
Since brilliance was of more importance than hue, mosaicists con-
structed their artworks so that the light was reflected in different ways, con-
tributing to the mosaic’s gleaming qualities.32 These reflections could help
bring a mosaic to life, making it appear slightly different at different times
of the day or with fewer or more candles.33 In this way the mosaics became
more participatory, and invited onlookers to engage with them and what
they depicted.34 Crucially, the play of light and colour represented heavenly
glory, and thus being drawn into the scintillating light of the mosaics was
supposed to draw believers into a present experience of the glory of divine
life to which they were being called.
Church buildings combined heavenly and earthly realms, symbolizing
the changed creation, and church decoration brought viewers into par-
ticipation with the events they depicted as well as the glory of paradise.
They thus anticipated the future reign of God in their present lives through
participation in biblical events and the liturgy of the church. Church art
and architecture were designed to facilitate participation in the new reality
brought about by Christ’s incarnation. They structured Christian experi-
ence as active, participatory and anticipatory.
Liturgy
Participation and anticipation are enacted in the liturgy as much as in the
architecture and decorative scheme of churches; the liturgy, understood
as an image of heaven and a participation in heavenly worship, was most
29 Borsook (2000), 5, James (1991), 68, (2000), 40.

30 James (2000), 40, 44. Part of the poem is translated in Mango (1972), 80–91.
31 James (2000), 44. Gregory of Nyssa and others thought similarly. See Frank (2001), 637, James
(2003), 227.
32 Borsook (2000), 9, Demus (1948), 35–7, James (1995), 4–5, (2000), 42.
33 James (2004), 528.
34 This light which bounced about the church on mosaics was sometimes considered to
symbolize the ‘enlightenment of grace’: Schulz (1986), 33.
158
importantly a mode of interaction with the divine.35 We have already seen

how church architecture augments the experience and meanings asso-
ciated with the eucharist, placing the celebration of the sacrament in a
heavenly space:36
For whenever you see the Lord sacrificed and lying [on the altar] … do you still
consider [yourself] to be among humans and standing on the earth, rather than
moving straight to the heavens and throwing away all fleshly thought …?
ὅταν γὰρ ἴδῃς τὸν Κύριον τεθυμένον καὶ κείμενον … ἆρα ἔτι μετὰ ἀνθρώπων εἶναι
νομίζεις καὶ ἐπὶ τῆς γῆς ἑστάναι, ἀλλ’ οὐκ εὐθέως ἐπὶ τοὺς οὐρανοὺς μετανίστασαι καὶ
πᾶσαν σαρκικὴν διάνοιαν ἐκβάλλων …;
For Chrysostom, as for other contemporary theologians, one does not

merely see the bread and wine at the eucharist, but Christ crucified.
Partaking in the eucharist is not a simple earthly experience, but transports
communicants to heaven. In fact, it is God himself who officiates at the
eucharist:37
But the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit organize everything. The priest lends
his tongue and provides his hand.
ἀλλὰ Πατὴρ καὶ Υἱὸς καὶ ἅγιον Πνεῦμα πάντα οἰκονομεῖ· ὁ δὲ ἱερεὺς τὴν ἑαυτοῦ
δανείζει γλῶτταν, καὶ τὴν ἑαυτοῦ παρέχει χεῖρα.
Earthly worship is transformed into heavenly, presided over by the Trinity.

Although this idea was current in the fourth and fifth centuries, the sixth
century was a period of change and innovation in the liturgy and ceremo-
nies of the church,38 with growing emphasis being placed on the earthly
liturgy’s connection to the heavenly.39 The late sixth century, for example,
saw the introduction of the Cherubikon (or ‘Cherubic hymn’), a hymn
sung at the Great Entrance (i.e. the procession of the elements of bread
and wine), which indicated that those bringing forward the elements of
bread and wine represented the Cherubim.40 Further developments in the
35 Theodore of Mopsuestia’s fifteenth catechetical sermon (XV.15, 20): Tonneau (1949), 485, 497.
See also Bornet (1966), 80–1, Kallistos (1990), 8–9, Meyendorff (1985), 358, Schulz (1986), 32.
36 Sur le Sacerdoce III, 4. See Malingrey (1980), 142–4. See also In epistulam primam ad
Corinthios, PG 61, col. 313.
37 Homilia in Ioannem, PG 59, col. 472. See also Hom. in Matt. PG 58, col. 507, and Kallistos
(1990), 15–16, Schulz (1986), 15.
38 See, for example, Taft (1995), 14. We have already discussed the introduction of fixed feasts by
Justinian. See van Esbroeck (1968), 371.
39 Krueger (2005), 295.
40 Kedrenos is the source which dates the introduction of the Cherubikon by Justin II to 573/4: Bekker
(1838), 685, lines 3–4. On the deacons as symbols of angelic servants of God, see Theodore of
Mopsuestia Hom. XV.25: Tonneau (1949), 505. See also Kallistos (1990), 11, Schulz (1986), 35.
159
liturgy in the seventh century placed even more emphasis on this connec-
tion between the earthly and heavenly liturgies. The hymn at the Liturgy
of the Pre-sanctified Gifts, for instance, mentioned the powers of heaven
which invisibly worship with those worshipping on earth.41 Yet while
these sixth-and seventh-century liturgical changes make the connection
between heavenly and earthly worship explicit, they should not be read as
signalling a completely realized eschatology or a marked departure from
earlier practice. Rather, they heighten the sense, present already in the
sixth-century liturgy, that human actions can experience the joys of heaven
in an anticipatory way.
This emphasis on the link between earthly and heavenly realms is reflected
in contemporary theological writings. In his Ecclesiastical Hierarchy (II.3.2),
Ps-Dionysius the Areopagite writes:
For, as is declared clearly in the treatise Concerning the Intelligible and the Perceptible,
sacred things which are perceptible are copies of intelligible things and are the guide
and the way to them.
Ἔστι γὰρ, ὡς ἐν τῇ Περὶ νοητῶν τε καὶ αἰσθητῶν πραγματείᾳ σαφῶς διηγόρευται, τὰ
μὲν αἰσθητῶς ἱερὰ τῶν νοητῶν ἀπεικονίσματα, καὶ ἐπ’ αὐτὰ χειραγωγία καὶ ὁδός.
Not only does the liturgy partake in heavenly life, it also participates in the
Gospel stories and brings them into the present experience of the worship-
pers, something which the late sixth-century patriarch of Constantinople,
Eutychius, was keen to emphasize.42 Different sections of the liturgy rep-
resented different events in the life of Christ.43 Theodore of Mopsuestia
(among others) interpreted the liturgy as focusing on the life of Christ.44 In
this scheme the service moves through the events of Christ’s life to culmi-
nate in the resurrection, Pentecost and the ascension at the celebration of
the eucharist. Old Testament prophecies and Christ’s birth are commemo-
rated at the beginning of the service. The Little Entrance represents Christ’s
baptism, the reading of the Gospel represents the preaching in Galilee, and
the Great Entrance symbolizes the entry into Jerusalem and the Passion.
This was probably the most prevalent interpretation in the sixth century.45
For Theodore of Mopsuestia, the liturgy is a representation of Christ’s
41 See Kallistos (1990), 11.

42 Krueger (2005), 293–4. Eustratius’ Life also participates in this concept of time, by setting
Eutychius’ life in biblical contexts. See Cameron (1990), 212.
43 For the following, see Kallistos (1990), 20.
44 See, for example, Hom. XV. 25–6: Tonneau (1949), 503–7. See also Bornet (1966), 80–2.
45 Another interpretation was put forward in the seventh century by Maximus the Confessor,
which focused on the eschaton (Mystagogia 8ff.) See also Bornet (1966), 121–3.
160
Passion and death and communicants are called to be witnesses of the cru-
cifixion and resurrection.46 Thus in the liturgy past, present and future are
brought together and events which happened in the Old Testament come
together, with New Testament events, into the sixth century. Just as these
schemes of the liturgy bring together biblical events, so the liturgical cycle
brings biblical events into the present and not only commemorates but also
relives these events.47
The eucharist is a particularly important means of participation in the
transformed reality. Christ is truly present in the eucharist in two ways.
First, in the bread and wine, which were believed to become the body and
blood of Christ.48 The strength of this belief is demonstrated by contempo-
rary stories of disbelief which result in miraculous visions of a child slaugh-
tered and presented to the heretic at the eucharist.49 Secondly, as we saw
earlier, Christ was believed to officiate at the eucharist, through the media-
tion of the priest.50
Baptism is no less participatory, since it was seen as burial and resur-
rection with Christ.51 In Romans 6:3 Paul stated that ‘all of us who have
been baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death’. Baptism was
also seen by some as a marriage between the initiate and Christ.52 Many
preachers and commentators on the liturgy, following Paul, interpreted the
descent into the water at baptism as death and burial and the ascent out of
the water (usually on the other side of an inbuilt font) as the resurrection.53
In addition to these truly physical sacraments, participation in the liturgy
could confer other, more sensual experiences.54 Smell in particular was seen
as a way of bridging the divide between humans and the divine, drawing
on a long Greco-Roman tradition where fragrance was associated with the
presence of divinity.55 For Cyril of Jerusalem, the holy oil used to anoint the
46 Barber (1991), 50–1, Tonneau (1949), 461–5. See also Bornet (1966), 82.
47 Merton (1965), 53–6.
48 This certainly seems to have been the belief in the sixth century, but it was not formalized
until the Council of Constantinople in 1157, which condemned the idea that the eucharist was
merely a memorial of Christ’s sacrifice. See Kallistos (1990), 16. This was called the doctrine of
transubstantiation in the West, but that term was not used in the East.
49 Sayings of the Desert Fathers 18.3.
50 For example, John Chrysostom, Homilia in Ioannem, PG 59, col. 472 (quoted above), and
Theodore of Mopsuestia’s commentary on the eucharist: Mingana (1933), 83. See also Kallistos
(1990), 15–16, Schulz (1986), 15, 17.
51 John Chrysostom, Catecheses ad illuminandos 2.11.
52 Cyril of Jerusalem, Procatechesis 1. See also Harvey (2006), 72.
53 See, for example, Cyril of Jerusalem, Mystagogical Catecheses 2.4 and 3.1. See also the Apostolic
Constitutions III.17.1, 3. Cf. Whitaker (2003), 32, 36.
54 This is still the case in Orthodox liturgy. See Wybrew (1990), 5.
55 Caseau (1999), 107, Harvey (2006), 65, 72.
16
Participation in Christ through the Liturgy 161
senses of initiates at baptism undergoes a change not unlike the bread and
wine in the eucharist: the oil imparts the Holy Spirit.56 John Chrysostom
asserts that pleasantly scented oil should remind the congregation of the
deeds of holy martyrs;57 Romanos describes faith as a perfume (XXX.15).58
Learning to understand and attend to the different scents in the liturgy was
considered to increase faith and religious understanding as well,59 making
incense a useful devotional tool.60
Participation in Christ through the Liturgy
Romanos was well aware of this tradition of participatory theology and

practices, and used his kontakia to reinforce and enact it for his congrega-
tion. Just as the liturgy implies, Romanos believed that the earthly liturgy
participates in that which is taking place in heaven. In On the Multiplication
of the Loaves, the angels watch and marvel at the liturgy taking place on
earth (XIII.1.1–5):
All the angels in the heavens marvel at terrestrial things,
because earthborn men dwelling below
are lifted up in thought and reach the things above,
sharing in Christ, the crucified one.
For together they all eat his body.
Πάντες ἄγγελοι οἱ ἐν οὐρανοῖς θαυμάζουσι τὰ ἐπίγ[εια],
ὅτι ἄνθρωποι γηγενεῖς τὰ κάτω κατοικοῦντες
ὑψοῦν[ται] τῇ διανοίᾳ καὶ φθάνουσι πρὸς τὰ ἄνω
μέτοχοι Χριστοῦ [ὄν]τες τοῦ ἐσταυρωμένου·
τὸ σῶμα γὰρ αὐτοῦ πάντες ἅμα ἐσθίουσι·
Romanos imagines the angels amazed at what God has granted to lowly
humans: by receiving the eucharist, humans reach heaven. Mind and body
56 Cyril of Jerusalem, Mystagogical Catecheses 3.3.

57 Homilia in martyres, PG 50, col. 664. See also Catecheses ad illuminandos 6.22. Quasten and
Burghardt (1963), 101.
58 On Romanos’ use of the senses, see Chapter 2 above.
59 Harvey (2006), 81, 86.
60 Caseau (1999), esp. 103, Harvey (2006), 128. Many theologians did not encourage use of the
senses to bridge the human–divine divide, but talked about fragrance in a metaphorical sense (as
Chrysostom does in relation to sin above). On Ephrem’s use of the senses in this way, see Harvey
(1998). Clement of Alexandria, for instance, interprets the scented oil which the sinful woman uses
to wash Christ’s feet as a representation of divine instruction or even Christ himself: Paedagogus
II.8.253–4. Taste was another important sense which had both positive and negative associations in
the early church up to the sixth century. Cf. Frank (2001), 626–8, James (2004), 526.
162
both extend to heaven through the (bodily) eating of the eucharist. The
body is important for Romanos (and for Christians more generally) because
God chose it as the vehicle for his salvific plans. In the incarnation, Christ
took on human form and perfected it and humans can now participate
physically in that perfection through their bodily experience in the liturgy.
Bodily imagery is often particularly vivid in the Syriac tradition.61 Ephrem
the Syrian talks about worship both as a means of renewal of the body, and
the way in which humans learn how to experience things correctly (i.e. as
a true Christian).62 And in the Odes of Solomon we see the complete phys-
icality of worshipping God (40:2–4).63 Romanos sees the physicality of the
eucharist in a similar way.
Yet while humans can, through the eucharist, ‘reach’ the future reign of
God, they remain ‘earthborn’. As in Romanos’ conception of the new cre-
ation, his eschatology is not fully realized. Human experience is anticipa-
tory: Romanos urges his congregation to participate in the new creation
although the exuberance of his poetry often emphasizes the attainment of
heavenly joys on earth. In On All Martyrs, heaven and earth join together
to praise God (LIX.2.4–6):
For with us even the angels cry out,
‘Truly you are wonderful amongst the saints,
very merciful One.’
μεθ’ ἡμῶν γὰρ βοῶσι καὶ ἄγγελοι·
‘Θαυμαστὸς ἐν ἁγίοις σου εἶ ἀληθῶς,
πολυέλεε.’
Immortal ranks join with those of mortals to praise God in the liturgy.
Earthly and heavenly liturgies take place simultaneously, together worship-
ping God. Romanos’ liturgical hymn reinforces that through the liturgy
(and therefore through the kontakion) the congregation participates in a
cosmic liturgy, joining in with angels and saints and people from all ages.
His words are heavenly words. This sense is performed by, and helps to
generate, the excess of imagery throughout the kontakia.
Romanos creates a picture of the church as heaven in On Earthquakes
and Fires (LIV.23.6–10):
The very home of the church
is being built with such skill
61 Harvey (1999), 106–8.
62 Harvey (1999), 115.
63 Harvey (1999), 113.
163
that it imitates heaven, the divine throne,

which supplies
eternal life.
ὁ οἶκος δὲ αὐτὸς ὁ τῆς ἐκκλησίας
ἐν τοσαύτῃ ἀρετῇ οἰκοδομεῖται,
ὡς τὸν οὐρανὸν μιμεῖσθαι, τὸν θεῖον θρόνον,
ὃς καὶ παρέχει
ζωὴν τὴν αἰώνιον.
The ‘home’ probably refers to Hagia Sophia, which was in the process of
being rebuilt after the Nika riots.64 Unlike contemporary descriptions of
the dome or decoration of the church, Romanos focuses on the skill with
which it is constructed; this skill connects the church’s construction to
God’s creation of the heavens and earth. As far as Romanos is concerned,
both the church building and the liturgy are intimately connected with
heaven. Entering a church is akin to entering heaven, and participation
in the liturgy is participation in that which is simultaneously taking place
in heaven.
At times Romanos re-enacts parts of the liturgy in the kontakia, simul-
taneously exploring the purpose of different rituals, reminding the con-
gregation of their participation in the new creation and encouraging them
to anticipate its consummation through the liturgy. In On the Epiphany,
Romanos alludes both to the prayer of the Thrice Holy (Trisagion) and to
the Sanctus (VI.7.4–8):65
But we see with fleshly eyes
the Lord of Sabaoth and the six-winged ones
and we send up a hymn to him:
Holy, holy one made flesh, holy are you, God.
We hallow you three times, one holy of holies …
ἡμεῖς δὲ σαρκικοῖς ὀφθαλμοῖς θεωροῦμεν
κύριον Σαβαὼθ καὶ τῶν ἑξαπτερύγων
ὑμνῳδίαν αὐτῷ ἀναπέμπομεν·
ἅγιος, ἅγιος ὁ σαρκωθείς, ἅγιος εἶ ὁ θεός·
ἁγιάζομεν τρίτον ἕνα ἅγιον ἁγίων
64 Schork makes this clear in his translation: Schork (1995), 194. This hymn is often described
and generally accepted as an encomium to Justinian on the occasion of the rebuilding of
Hagia Sophia after the Nika Riots. See Barkhuizen (1995), esp. 16, Topping (1978), esp. 25–32,
Varghese (2006), 395.
65 See also On Judas (XVII.23). On the dating of the Trisagion (fifth century, but used at the
beginning of the eucharistic service from the sixth century), see Taft (1977), 367–8.
164
Angels in heaven sing both the Trisagion, which was part of the Little
Entrance, and the Sanctus, making it clear that the earthly liturgy partici-
pates in the heavenly liturgy:66
Holy is God who is carried by the six-winged seraphim, while they make a great
noise with their wings and sing the triumphal song, ‘Holy, holy, holy Lord of
Sabaoth, the favourable one.’
ἅγιος ὁ Θεὸς ὁ τοῖς ἑξαπτερύγοις σεραφὶμ ἐποχούμενος καὶ κροτούντων τὰς ἑαυτῶν
πτέρυγας καὶ τὸν ἐπινίκιον ὕμνον ὐμνούντων τὸ ἅγιος ἅγιος ἅγιος Κύριος σαβαὼθ ὁ
προσδεχόμενος.
Romanos recontextualizes the Trisagion and the Sanctus, accentuating

human connection with God through the incarnation, rather than the
angelic praise of God. In the new reality, humans (with their ‘fleshly eyes’)
are able to take the role of the angels in the singing of these hymns. But this
passage also looks forward to a time when humans will be with the angels
and sing praises to God alongside the seraphim.
Reference to the Sanctus also reminds the congregation of the eucha-
rist. Through such references Romanos explains what the congregation
participates in when they receive the elements and encourages them to
be mindful of this meaning when they communicate. A direct statement
of participation in the eucharist is found in On the Marriage at Cana
(VII.20.3–6):
And now we all take part in the banquet in the church,
for the wine is changed into the blood of Christ,
and we drink it with holy joy,
praising the great bridegroom.
ἄρτι δὲ ἐν τῷ δείπνῳ τῷ ἐν τῇ ἐκκλησίᾳ
ἀπολαύομεν ἅπαντες·
εἰς αἷμα γὰρ Χριστοῦ μεταβάλλεται οἶνος,
καὶ πίνομεν αὐτὸν εὐφροσύνῃ ἁγίᾳ
τὸν νυμφίον τὸν μέγαν δοξάζοντες·
Romanos points to the approaching mass, presenting it as a wedding feast

like that at Cana (John 2:1–11): at Cana Christ changed the nature of the
water; at the eucharist he changes the nature of the wine.67 Romanos weaves
his narrative with threads of other Gospel stories, using the marital theme
66 From the liturgy of John Chrysostom: Hammond and Brightman (1965), 313.

67 This story is often used as a symbol of the eucharist. See Barrett (1978), 189, 191, Dodd (1968),
299–300, Meyendorff (1990), 104. For the interpretations of the church fathers, see Smitmans
(1966), 94ff.
165
of the kontakion to name Christ as bridegroom and thereby cast him in the
eschatological role of Matthew’s bridegroom (25:1–13). And so the eucha-
ristic narrative becomes one of the general resurrection. Participation in
the eucharist is participation in Christ’s death but also in his resurrection.
This apocalyptic story encourages Christians to be vigilant; Christian lives
should be ones of expectation and anticipation of the coming kingdom.
Hunger and thirst imagery recalls the eucharist and prompts listeners
to remember the taste of the bread and wine. In Chapter 2, we saw how
Romanos uses the thirst of the Israelites in the wilderness to refer to the
eucharist and to Christ as the thirst-quencher. Physical imagery like this
is another means of sensory participation in the life of Christ. Romanos
draws on memory of the senses in the liturgy to facilitate his congregation’s
participation in the new creation: through correct use of the senses humans
can know God.68
Eucharistic drinking is both revelatory and transformative in On
Doubting Thomas (XXX.3.5–10):69
From there the thief drank and became sober,
from there the disciples watered their hearts,
from there Thomas drew the water of the knowledge which he sought.
So first he drinks, then he gives to drink.
Having doubted for a short time, he persuaded many to say
‘You are my Lord and my God.’
ἐκεῖθεν ὁ λῃστὴς ἔπιε καὶ ἀνένηψεν,
ἐκεῖθεν μαθηταὶ ἤρδευσαν τὴν καρδίαν,
ἐκεῖθεν Θώμας ἤντλησε τὴν γνῶσιν ὧν ἐζήτει·
πίνει οὖν πρῶτος, εἶτα ποτίζει·
ἀπιστήσας μικρὸν πολλοὺς ἔπεισε λέγειν·
‘Κύριος ὑπάρχεις καὶ θεὸς ἡμῶν.’
The wound in Christ’s side transforms ‘doubting Thomas’ into a believer,

along with the Good Thief and all the disciples. Interestingly the thief
becomes sober, although Christ’s side recalls the eucharistic wine. This
wine does not make one drunk; rather, the thief was drunk before and
Christ’s side – the eucharistic wine – has restored his sobriety. The repeti-
tion in lines 5 to 7 emphasizes that it is a universal thirst-quenching and
one which satisfies different sorts of thirst: it cures drunkenness (5), cares
and cherishes (6), and satiates the thirst for knowledge (7). Christ’s wound
68 On the different ways in which sight was believed to give access to God, see Frank (2000). And
on the revelation of God through human senses, see James (2004), 522–37.
69 On writing imagery, see Chapter 2 above. See also Krueger (2003), 2–44, (2004), 159–88.
16
is a double reference to the eucharist. In the Gospel accounts blood and

water come from his side when it is pierced by the soldiers and this is
taken as evidence that Christ is already dead (John 19:33–4). Yet these
liquids which signify Christ’s death do so because they are his life pouring
out. So these ‘life liquids’ become the life-giving elements of the eucharist.
The wound also refers to the whole crucifixion, which the eucharist com-
memorates and in which it participates. Romanos thus demonstrates the
transformative power of the eucharist and encourages his listeners both
to communicate at the eucharist and to reflect on their communication in
order to receive blessings commensurate with those of Thomas, the thief
and the other disciples.
In On the Prodigal Son Romanos replays the eucharistic rite, imagina-
tively reinventing the Gospel story (Luke 15:11–32) as an extended met-
aphor for Christ’s sacrifice.70 The interest for Romanos lies in what it says
about the crucifixion and the eucharist. He calls for congregational partici-
pation in the eucharistic feast early on in the hymn (XLIX.2.1), but the met-
aphor for the eucharist runs throughout. The calf which the father sacrifices
to celebrate the son’s return is Christ (8.1–6):
But now, for the one who has stumbled, sacrifice, as I said,
the virgin calf, the son of the Virgin,
who has not been tamed by the yoke of sin,
who with eagerness goes towards those who drag him.
For he does not revolt against the sacrifice,
but bows his neck willingly for those who hurry to sacrifice him.
Ἀλλ’ ὑπὲρ πταίσαντος λοιπὸν θύσατε νῦν, καθὼς εἶπον,
τὸν μόσχον τὸν παρθένον, τὸν υἱὸν τὸν τῆς παρθένου,
τὸν μὴ δαμασθέντα ζυγῷ τῷ τῆς ἁμαρτίας,
τὸν προθυμίᾳ πρὸς τοὺς ἕλκοντας πορευόμενον·
οὐ γὰρ στασιάζει πρὸς τὴν θυσίαν,
ἀλλὰ τὸν αὐχένα κλίνει ἑκουσίως αὐτοῖς
τοῖς θύειν ἐπισπεύδουσιν·
The calf not only prefigures Christ, it is Christ.71 The whole story becomes
a metaphor for the crucifixion: the father in the Gospel account is God
the Father and the prodigal son is fallen humanity; the calf is Jesus Christ,
whom the Father sends to be sacrificed and who willingly submits to the
cross for the sake of humanity. He is the sacrifice for those who have stum-
bled: Adam and all humanity. The fatted calf of the Gospel (Luke 15:23)
70 Barkhuizen (1996), 39–54.
71 Barkhuizen (1996), 41.
167
becomes the virgin calf untouched by the yoke of sin (lines 2–3): Jesus
Christ, the son of the Virgin, who was without sin. The parable becomes
the service of the eucharist: angels serve the feast (11.1–3) and their singing
recalls the sanctus: ‘Holy are you, Father … holy also is your Son … holy
again is the Spirit’ (ἅγιος εἶ, πάτερ, … ἅγιος ἔστι δὲ καὶ ὁ υἱός σου, … τὸ
Πνεῦμα πάλιν ἅγιον …) (11.5, 7, 11). Romanos once again reinforces for his
congregation that their participation in the eucharist unites them with the
heavenly realm.
This replaying of a liturgical rite within a Gospel narrative is not
uncommon for Romanos and reflects his understanding of post-incar-
nation time. In On the Resurrection VI the events at the tomb mimic the
entrances of the sixth-century liturgy,72 casting the resurrection of Christ
in a contemporary mould. Mary’s entrance to the tomb in stanza 7 recalls
the Little Entrance of the liturgy: her speech is reminiscent of the Trisagion
hymn which was sung at this part of the service. Christ reveals himself to
Mary (10) and tells her to proclaim what she now knows (12); a command
which fits well with the scripture readings and homily which follow the
Little Entrance. In stanza 17, Mary brings the women back to the tomb
and they sing a hymn in praise of the tomb. The empty tomb is a symbol
of Christ’s death and resurrection, and so for Romanos becomes a symbol
of the eucharist; the women’s second entrance to the tomb becomes the
Great Entrance, at which the elements of bread and wine were brought
forward for the eucharist.
Gospel characters again participate in sixth-century rites in On the Sinful
Woman. The harlot, whom Romanos upholds as an example of repentance,
becomes a catechumen preparing for baptism. She renounces her life of sin
in a way which recalls the catechumenal rite of rejecting Satan (by blowing
and spitting on him) (X.5.10–11):73
In short, by blowing I renounce
the filth of my deeds.
συντόμως ἀποτάσσομαι ἐμφυσῶσα
τῷ βορβόρῳ τῶν ἔργων μου.
‘By blowing I renounce’ is repeated in the penultimate stanza of the hymn,

where the words are simultaneously put into the mouths of the woman and
of the church, again a reference to the liturgical rite of rejection of Satan.74
72 Frank (2006b), 64.
73 See notes in Lash (1995), 245.
74 See John Chrysostom’s Baptismal Instructions 2.18, 20 and Cyril of Jerusalem’s Mystagogical
Catecheses (1.4).
168
So Romanos makes the sinful woman into a catechumen and her repent-
ance part of her baptism. In the following strophe the woman refers to her
own cleansing (X.6.6–11):
I will make the house of the Pharisee a place of light,
for there I wash away my sins,
and there I purify myself of my offences.
With weeping, with oil and with perfume I will mix the font
and I am washed and cleansed and I flee
from the filth of my deeds.
φωτιστήριον ποιήσω τὴν οἰκιὰν τοῦ Φαρισαίου·
ἐκεῖ γὰρ ἀποπλύνομαι τὰς ἁμαρτίας μου,
ἐκεῖ καὶ καθαρίζομαι τὰς ἀνομίας μου·
κλαυθμῷ, ἐλαίῳ καὶ μύρῳ κεράσομαι κολυμβήθραν
καὶ λούομαι καὶ σμήχομαι καὶ ἐκφεύγω
τοῦ βορβόρου τῶν ἔργων μου.
Romanos turns the house of Simon the Pharisee into a baptistery.75

Alliteration (‘ph’ sounds) and the symmetrical placement of ‘place of
light’ and ‘Pharisee’ at either end of line 6 emphasize this transformation.
Words of washing and purifying are repeated, highlighting the similar-
ities between the woman’s repentance and Christ’s forgiveness and the
baptismal liturgy of repenting and being purified. Romanos wants the
congregation to recall their own baptism and its meaning.76 The three
nouns (weeping, oil and perfume) in line 9 are balanced by the three verbs
(washed, cleansed and flee) which bring her out of her sins in line 10.
The reference to tears, oil and perfume also recalls the biblical narrative,
perhaps especially the Lucan version, in which the woman is said to wash
Jesus’ feet with her tears and dry them with her hair before she anoints
them with expensive perfume (Luke 7:32–8).77 Christ becomes the font
(line 9) through which the woman’s purification takes place, recalling the
biblical imagery of Christ as source of living water (John 4:14) as well as
emphasizing that it is into Christ that the congregation is baptized and
through him that they are purified.
For Romanos, there are rites other than baptism and eucharist which are
also participatory. As we saw in the introduction, Romanos refers to the
night vigil, the probable setting for the kontakia, in On the Man Possessed
75 As Lash has it: Lash (1995), 79 n. 9.

76 On memory and baptism, see Frank (2013a).
77 On the repentant tears of the harlot in Ephrem and his followers, see Hunt (1998).
169
Gospel Participation in Christ and Imitatio Christi 169
with Devils (XI.1.1–3). This is a rite for the people, involving singing and
processions (XI.25.1–3):
Servants of Christ, who always love
to stand around and sing to his glory,
we have now led the devil in a procession [i.e. triumphing over him] …
Ὑπηρέται Χριστοῦ, οἱ φιλοῦντες ἀεὶ
παραμένειν καὶ ψάλλειν εἰς δόξαν αὐτοῦ,
οἱ πομπεύσαντες νῦν τὸν διάβολον …
The congregation takes part in the physical movement of this service and
vocally in the singing of psalms and hymns. They perform both their love
of and service to God and his destruction of the devil at the resurrection.
Night vigils which moved through the city often finished at a church in time
for the eucharistic service. In this sense, the vigil could be interpreted as a
wandering in the desert, during which glimpses of the eschaton are possible
and which ultimately culminates in proleptic participation in the eschato-
logical feast: the eucharist.
For Romanos, the liturgy is a participation both in the heavenly liturgy and
in the life of Christ. There is a sense of eternal present, in which biblical events
occur in sixth-century Constantinople through the liturgy, but always with
an anticipation of the eschaton and final consummation of God’s promise to
his people. Romanos plays out this theology in his kontakia by casting biblical
events in contemporary liturgical moulds and accentuating the participation
which takes place in rituals like baptism and the eucharist.
Participation in Christ through the Gospels and Imitatio Christi
As dramatic texts, the kontakia enable another form of participation.

Through the devices of characterization, vivid description and direct rhe-
torical address, Romanos draws the congregation into the Gospel stories,
making them part of the first-century life of Christ, and presents them with
models of Christ-like behaviour, demonstrating how to act as Christians in
the new creation and in anticipation of its consummation.
Characterization (Ethopoeia)
Characterization has an emotional impact; it can be used to create vividness
and invoke pity and fellow-feeling in the listener, but equally hatred and
170
fear, and many other emotions besides. It excites the passions and makes
the narrative vivid.78 Both these purposes are important for Romanos’
eschatological theology.
Characterization in Earlier Homiletics

Romanos’ use of characterization draws on earlier practices, especially
from homiletics. The fifth-century preacher Basil of Seleucia, who has long
been claimed as an influence on Romanos’ style and thought,79 uses charac-
terization (or perhaps ‘personification’ would be the more accurate term) in
his homily On Lazarus. He creates a monologue for Death (12), who vividly
describes the raising of the dead and rather pathetically mourns the end of
his reign over humanity:
Alas, for these misfortunes! Even the tombs are faithless to me with regard to the
dead and the dead, although putrefying, are leaping out; all in their swathing bands
they are dancing, mocking my laugh.80
Οἴμοι τῶν κακῶν· ἄπιστά μοι λοιπὸν πρὸς νεκροὺς καὶ τὰ μνήματα, νεκροὶ σεσηπότες
ἐξάλλονται, μετὰ τῶν ἐνταφίων χορεύουσιν τὸν ἐμὸν ἐξορούμενοι γέλωτα.
The personification (prosopopoeia) of death and the exploration of his char-

acter through this speech have the effect of making death into an enemy
whom Christ beats decidedly in the battle over human lives. Death is not
simply the deaths of all human beings but a monstrous creature who loves
power and destruction and who imprisons human bodies beneath the
earth. They are a trophy for him. It is easier to imagine the defeat of such a
creature than to comprehend the end of all human deaths. So Basil makes
the end of all human deaths, which is brought about through the resur-
rection of Lazarus, and ultimately through Christ’s death and resurrection,
more imaginable and real through prosopopoeia.
The vivid picture this characterization creates draws the audience into
the story, making them part of this miraculous event. Basil reinforces this
by his assertion that this event transcends time: ‘Time had no knowl-
edge of this and the manner <in which it happened> was unknown’ (ὁ
χρόνος οὐκ οἶδεν, ὁ τρόπος ἠγνόηται).81 Just as we have seen throughout
Romanos’ poetry, Basil is also working with a concept of sacred time,
in which events are not placed in a linear, chronological sequence, but
78 Schouler (2005), 49.
79 E.g. Maas (1910a), 291–2, 299.
80 For both text and translation, see Cunningham (1986), 176, 183.
81 The translation is Cunningham’s: Cunningham (1986), 182.
17
converge, encouraging Christians to approach reality and experience the

world in a new way. The ethopoeic monologue Basil gives to Death ena-
bles him to present the raising of Lazarus as a foreshadowing of the gen-
eral resurrection.82
Characterization through speeches was a technique also employed by the
fourth-century homilist Ephrem the Syrian. Ephrem explores the charac-
ters of Simon and the sinful woman from Luke 7:36–50 in the prose homily
attributed to him, On the Sinful Woman, through dialogues which func-
tion to characterize the actors. This homily, and the tradition to which it
belongs, were certainly a major influence on Romanos’ own composition
on the same theme. The woman’s faith is demonstrated by her exchange
with the perfume seller who is curious about her change of attire (4) and
whom she reprimands for suggesting she is seeking another lover (5):
Hinder me not, O man, and stop me not by thy questioning. … I will go to Him
who endures, and will buy that which endures. And as to that thou saidst, about a
merchant; a Man has met me today Who bears riches in abundance. He has robbed
me and I have robbed Him; He has robbed me of my transgressions and sins, and
I have robbed Him of His wealth. And as to that thou saidst of a husband; I have
won me a Husband in heaven, Whose dominion stands for ever, and His kingdom
shall not be dissolved.83
Ephrem creates a determined character through this little speech: the

woman has decided to repent and knows exactly how she must do it.
Ephrem further emphasizes her faith and determination by inserting a
debate between the woman and Satan, who appears to her in the guise of a
former lover (7–8). Satan attempts to turn her from her chosen course, but
he is not successful. The woman’s firm penitence is set up as a model for the
congregation, and her conversation makes her a vivid and believable char-
acter. Ephrem thus brings the characters to life and makes it easier for the
congregation to identify with them.
As these two examples suggest, Greek and Syriac preachers used charac-
terization to make the congregation participate in the new creation. Basil of
Seleucia’s personification and characterization of death in On Lazarus viv-
ifies the narrative, making the effect of Lazarus’ (and therefore the general)
resurrection all the more obvious for his congregation. In a similar way,
Ephrem’s vivid characterization of the sinful woman draws the congrega-
tion into the Gospel story, bringing the narrative to life before their eyes
and making them identify with this Gospel character.
82 Cunningham (1986), 169.
83 For the translation, see Schaff and Wace (1890), 336ff.
172
Characterization in Romanos
Romanos encourages his congregation to become participants in the scrip-
tural narratives and draws the biblical stories into the sixth century, both
demonstrating his conceptualization of new creation time and helping his
audience to become part of Christ’s life.84 He creates vivid models or anti-
models of appropriate Christian (Christ-like) behaviour as he points his
congregation towards the approaching eschaton.
Romanos creates an archetype of penitence in On the Haemorrhaging
Woman, exploring her fear and courage through a monologue (XII.5.2–6):
How will I be seen by my all-seeing one,
bearing the shame of my sins?
If the blameless one sees the flow of blood, he will draw back from me as from one
unclean,
and this will be more terrible for me than a blow,
if he turns back from me as I cry to him,
‘Saviour, save me.’
Πῶς ὀφθήσομαι τῷ παντεπόπτῃ μου
φέρουσα τὴν αἰσχύνην πταισμάτων ἐμῶν;
αἱμάτων ῥύσιν ὁ ἀμώμητος ἐὰν ἴδῃ, χωρεῖ μου ὡς ἀκαθάρτου,
καὶ δεινότερον ἔσται μοι τοῦτο πληγῆς,
ἐὰν ἀποστραφῇ με βοῶσαν αὐτῷ·
‘σῶτερ, σῶσον με.’
There is an irony in the first line of this speech in that the ‘all-seeing’ Christ
of the Gospel did not see the woman until she had touched him: Mark says
that Jesus was ‘immediately aware that power had gone forth from him’ and
he turned to face the woman and release her from her illness (Mark 5:30–4).
In this speech her concern about the omniscient power of God is a demon-
stration of her great faith. Repetition of first-person pronouns, in various
forms, focuses attention on the speaker and her fears and suffering. She is
fearful of rejection and somewhat self-pitying, although listeners are them-
selves moved to pity rather than disgust by the speech. Her fear of rejection
is clear in lines 3 to 5. Jewish concern with ritual cleanliness and fear of
disease are behind her fear of being branded unclean (line 3). This line is
framed by the words ‘blood’ and ‘unclean’, highlighting the cause of her
fear. Her certainty that Christ will reject her engenders pity in listeners. The
refrain also makes the congregation part of this exploration of character;
84 This is a technique Romanos uses throughout his kontakia. Barkhuizen observes that Romanos
engages his listeners in the biblical world through dialogue, monologue and creative narrative
expansion in On Dives and Lazarus: Barkhuizen (2008a), 270.
173
with the haemorrhaging woman they cry out ‘Saviour, save me!’, acknowl-
edging that they are as much in need of salvation as she. The woman is a
model of repentance and piety for the congregation to imitate. Romanos
uses her as an illustration of proper Christian penitence.
The accentuation of the faith and penitence of this ritually unclean
woman is in stark contrast to the treatment of Abraham in On Abraham
and Isaac. In this kontakion, Romanos makes the archetype of faith,
the man who would have sacrificed his only son, into a more believa-
ble, doubting and fearful man, creating a more human and perhaps ulti-
mately more helpful model of faith. He creates an elaborate dialogue
as a way of expressing the fears of both Abraham and Sarah, neither of
which was expressed in the biblical account of Isaac’s sacrifice (Gen.
22:1–14). Romanos acknowledges that Abraham did not question God’s
command: ‘For this reason you were not doubtful about the demand’
(διὸ πρὸς τὸ ῥηθὲν ἀμφίβολος οὐ γέγονας (XLI.3.3)), but then he creates
a monologue for Abraham, imagining what Abraham might have said to
God if he had been doubtful. In this long monologue there is even an
imagined debate between Abraham and Sarah which Abraham presents
to God (XLI.7.1–5):
Sarah will hear all your words, O Lord,
and knowing that this is your will, she will say to me,
‘If the one who gives has taken away, why did he give?
You, old man, let me keep my [child] with me.
And if the one who has called you wants him, he will reveal this to me.’
Ἀκούσει τοὺς λόγους σου πάντας ⟨ἡ⟩ Σάρρα, ὦ δέσποτα,
καὶ τὴν βουλήν σου ταύτην γνοῦσα μοι λέξει·
‘εἰ αὐτὸς ὁ διδοὺς ἐλάμβανε, τί παρέσχηκε;
σύ, πρεσβῦτα, τὸν ἐμὸν ἔα πρός με·
καὶ ὅταν θελήσῃ τοῦτον ὁ καλέσας σε, δηλώσει μοι·’
Sarah’s characterization by Abraham works similarly; the fears that Sarah

expresses are those of an ordinary mother. Through the dialogue the con-
gregation is made to feel her sadness, her hope, her fear and her anger, as
she rails against the reality of God’s command (9.4–6):
Alas, my son Isaac, may it not be that I should look down upon
your blood poured out on the ground.
He will kill me first, only then will he kill you.
οἴμοι, τέκνον Ἰσαάκ, εἰ κατίδω
σοῦ ἐπὶ γαίας αἷμα ἐκχυνόμενον· μὴ γένοιτο·
φονεύσει με πρώτην, εἶτα οὕτως σε φονεύσει·
174
This mother’s desire to die before her son is reminiscent of Romanos’ rep-
resentation of Mary at the cross (XIX) and certainly plays into ideals of
motherhood. Through passages like these Romanos draws the congrega-
tion into the biblical events.
Romanos uses characterization to create the fears and doubts of a bibli-
cal character whose faith was apparently unfailing in the biblical account.
Rhetorical expansion through dialogue creates a new narrative, based on
but not the same as the biblical account. The new narrative emphasizes the
humanity of Abraham and Sarah and draws connections between their
experiences and wider human emotions such as fear, doubt, grief and hope.
Through this humanizing, emotional narrative, Romanos encourages the
audience to identify with Abraham and Sarah and similarly give over their
human uncertainty and emotional turmoil to God.
Romanos also characterizes himself in his kontakia, once again through
the use of dialogue. In On the Resurrection II, as we will see shortly, he
uses a ‘reporter persona’ to draw the congregation into the Gospel events.
But Romanos also creates a persona for himself which emphasizes human
frailty and which encourages the congregation to behave in particular ways.85
This penitential persona draws attention to human frailty and sin, but, most
importantly, it allows him to offer a model of penitence and piety to his con-
gregation. Romanos uses the first person to make the model more immedi-
ate to his listeners and to create a bond of sympathy between preacher and
audience. The character he creates for himself is a model for how a Christian
should behave in expectation of the second coming of Christ (VI.18.4–9):
I fall down before you, saviour, like the woman with the haemorrhage,
and I grasp your hem and say,
‘If I only lay hold [of you], I will be saved.’
So do not let my faith come to nothing, healer of souls.
Uncovering the pain, let me find you as my deliverance,
the one who appears and illuminates everything.
προσπίπτω σοι, σωτήρ, καθάπερ ἡ αἱμόρρους
ἁπτόμενος κἀγὼ τοῦ κρασπέδου καὶ λέγων·
‘Ἐὰν μόνον κρατήσω, σωθήσομαι’·
μὴ ματαιώσῃς οὖν τὴν πίστιν μου, ὁ τῶν ψυχῶν ἰατρός·
ἐκκαλύπτων τὸ ἄλγος εὕρω σὲ εἰς σωτηρίαν
Romanos associates himself, in this penitential persona, with the wom-

an’s faith, but also with her sinfulness. He is not above the sinners in the
85 See Krueger (2006a), 255–74.

175
Gospels, but is as fallen as the haemorrhaging woman, who is his model

of faith and penitence. He is literally ‘fallen’ in this passage too, since he
prostrates himself before God.86 Romanos uses it again in this context in A
Prayer (LVI.7.2) and On Baptism (LIII.22.6), acknowledging his own sin-
fulness and begging for forgiveness. By presenting himself, the preacher, in
this way, Romanos encourages his congregation to do likewise.
Similarly, at the end of On the Resurrection VI Romanos acknowledges
his own sins and asks for God’s forgiveness (XXIX.24.4–12):
Yes, merciful one, I beg you not to abandon me
who am stained with sins,
for in iniquities and sins my mother conceived me.
My father, holy and compassionate,
hallowed be your name forever
by my mouth and by my lips,
by my voice and by my song.
Grant me grace as I proclaim your hymns, since you are able,
you who grant resurrection to those who are fallen.
ναί, ἐλεήμων, ἱκετεύω σε μὴ καταλείπῃς με
τὸν ταῖς πλημμελείαις κατεστιγμένον·
ἐν γὰρ ἀνομίαις καὶ ⟨ἐν⟩ ἁμαρτίαις ἐμὲ
ἐκίσσησεν ἡ μήτηρ μου·
πάτερ μου, ἅγιε καὶ φιλοικτίρμον,
ἁγιασθήτω σου ἀεὶ τὸ ὄνομα
ἐν τῷ στόματί μου καὶ τοῖς χείλεσί μου,
ἐν τῇ φωνῇ μου καὶ τῇ ᾠδῇ μου·
δός μοι χάριν κηρύττοντι τοὺς ὕμνους σου, ὅτι δύνασαι,
ὁ τοῖς πεσοῦσι παρέχων ἀνάστασιν.
This personal plea draws on various liturgical and biblical sources to ground
and strengthen the characterization. The word ‘abandon’ (kataleipēs) in line
4 of this stanza recalls Christ’s cry to God from the cross: ‘Why have you
abandoned (enkatelipes) me?’ (Mark 15:34). This passage also calls to mind
other parts of the liturgy by a direct quotation from the Psalms (line 6) and a
reference to the Lord’s Prayer (line 8). Line 6 is a quote from the Septuagint
translation of Psalm 50(51):5: ‘For behold, I was conceived in iniquities, and
in sin did my mother conceive me’ (Ἰδοὺ γὰρ ἐν ἀνομίαις συνελήφθην, καὶ ἐν
ἁμαρτίαις ἐκίσσησέ με ἡ μήτηρ μου). This psalm emphasizes the sinfulness
86 In Christian texts ‘to fall down’ (prospiptō) is used of prostration before God. It occurs in
the Ephrem Graecus collection in this context, among many others. See, for example, De
passionibus animi 357.8, and Sermo paraeneticus 407.10.
176
of humanity and human need for forgiveness and redemption. The connec-
tion Romanos makes between the prayer, human sinfulness and the gener-
osity and love of God as seen in the crucifixion elucidates the meaning of
the Lord’s Prayer as praise of God and prayer for forgiveness.
Romanos brings the doubt and fear of the apostle Thomas to life when he
likens his own doubt and fear to Thomas’ (XXX.18.5–10):
Thomas, by touching [you], now recognizes your glory,
but I am afraid, for I know your counsels,
I know my deeds. My conscience troubles me.
Spare me, my saviour, spare me, merciful one,
so that in deeds and words I may unceasingly cry to you,
‘You are our Lord and our God.’
ὁ Θώμας ψηλαφῶν νῦν ἐπέγνω τὴν δόξαν σου,
ἐγὼ δὲ δειλιῶ· οἶδα γὰρ τὰς βουλάς σου·
ἐπίσταμαι τὰ ἔργα μου· τὸ συνειδός με ταράττει·
φεῖσαι, σωτήρ μου, φεῖσαι, οἰκτίρμων,
ἵνα ἔργοις καὶ λόγοις ἀπαύστως βοῶ σοι·
‘Κύριος ὑπάρχεις καὶ θεὸς ἡμῶν.’
In the Gospel story, Christ says to Thomas that those who will believe with-
out having touched his wounds are blessed (John 20:29). Romanos creatively
expands the Gospel narrative, not only in the dialogue he gives Thomas, but
also by parachuting himself into the action. He addresses Christ directly as
if he were himself a doubting apostle. Romanos acknowledges the difficul-
ties of believing and thereby encourages the congregation to confront their
own doubts. But there is a sense of urgency about the appeal to God which
concludes the kontakion On Doubting Thomas, perhaps reflecting Romanos’
belief in the impending eschaton,87 but also preparing his congregation to
receive the eucharist (XXX.18.1–4):
By grace strengthen me in soul and flesh and save me, Most High,
so that, by touching your side, I might receive your grace,
your blood and your body, and be delivered from my evils,
so that I might find forgiveness of transgressions.
Ὑπὸ χάριτος ψυχῇ καὶ σαρκὶ στηρίξας σῶσον με, ὕψιστε,
ἵν᾽ ἁπτόμενος τῆς πλευρᾶς λαμβάνω σου τὴν χάριν
λυτρούμενος τῶν κακῶν μου τὸ αἷμα σου καὶ τὸ σῶμα,
ἄφεσιν ἱνὰ εὕρω τῶν παραπτωμάτων·
87 On sixth-century ideas about the end of the world see Daley (2003), 171–8. Cf. also Alexander
(1985), Rubin (1961), Vasiliev (1942–3).
17
Christ’s side, from which water and blood flowed, is the source of the
eucharistic wine and Romanos asks for strength to touch it: to receive the
sacrament which will be his salvation.
Romanos also uses personal prayer to acknowledge his character’s own
sinfulness, to model penitential behaviour and to intercede on behalf of
the congregation.88 The prayer at the end of On the Resurrection VI (quoted
above) is a particularly personal call for forgiveness. Romanos uses his per-
sona to model penitence for his congregation and to act as an intercessor.89
He creates this persona to guide his congregation towards living out the
perfect humanity of Christ in preparation for the second coming.
But Romanos also uses himself as an anti-model, comparing himself
with great biblical figures to illustrate his (and general human) comparative
sinfulness or weakness. In On Abraham and Isaac, he compares himself to
Abraham (XLI.1):
I, who am young, wish to emulate you, [Abraham], the old man
going up the mountain, but my feet grow numb.
For even if the spirit is willing, the flesh is weak.
O my soul, have courage now as you look upon
Abraham, who put aside old age and became young.
His feet toiled, but he had courage in his soul.
He did not know the place, but he departed on the way,
being guided by the one who called him.
Because he alone is good, the saviour of our souls.
Εἰς ὄρος ἀναβαίνοντα σὲ τὸν πρεσβύτην ὁ νέος ἐγὼ
ζηλῶσαι θέλω καὶ ναρκοῦσι μου πόδες·
εἰ γὰρ καὶ τὸ πνεῦμα πρόθυμον, ἀλλ’ ἡ σὰρξ ἀσθενής·
ὦ ψυχή μου, θάρρησον θεωροῦσα
τὸν Ἀβραὰμ νῦν τὸ γῆρας ἀποθέμενον καὶ νεάζοντα·
οὗ ἔκαμνον πόδες, ἀλλ’ ἠνδρίζετο τῇ γνώμῃ·
ἠγνόει τὸν τόπον καὶ ἀπῄει τῷ τρόπῳ
ὁδηγοῦντος αὐτὸν τοῦ καλέσαντος.
ὅτι μόνος ἀγαθὸς ὁ σωτὴρ τῶν ψυχῶν ἡμῶν.
Faith gives strength to the old man and makes him young again. Romanos
uses the mountain scene to make Abraham into a Christ figure and himself
into a sinful disciple. Line 3 is almost a direct quote from Matthew 26:41
in which Jesus returns from praying on the mountain, finds his disciples
88 On final prayers in Romanos, see Barkhuizen (1989), (1991a), Grosdidier de Matons (1980),
197–201.
89 The audience is heavily involved here, contra Barkhuizen (1991a), 93.
178
sleeping and rebukes them for their weakness. The direct address to his
soul (line 4) is also a call upon his listeners – the personal touch encour-
ages them to identify with him; Romanos wants the congregation to see
Abraham (and his antitype, Christ) as a model of faith and action.
Self-characterization enables Romanos to make himself a model or anti-
model for his congregation, taking on the role of penitent and showing his
failings as he seeks to live a Christ-like life.90 Romanos creates a persona
which he hopes appeals to his listeners as they also strive towards imita-
tion of Christ. Romanos also gives his congregation different roles in the
biblical narratives through dialogue and the refrain. Dialogue explores and
develops the characters of those who are speaking. By making the congre-
gation part of this exploration of biblical characters, Romanos is able to
create models of behaviour, explain points of doctrine and generally bring
the text to life for his congregation. In a dramatic sense, the congregation
becomes part of performing the stories of Christ’s life and thereby partici-
pates in it. On the Baptism of Christ contains a long dialogue between Christ
and John the Baptist which has been expanded from the brief conversation
in Matthew’s Gospel (3:13–15) and which dwells primarily on John’s reluc-
tance to baptize Christ. I quote one strophe, in which John is speaking, as
an example (V.7):
Why have you appeared at the streams? What do you wish
to wash away, or what sort of sins,
you who were conceived and born without sin?
You come to me, but heaven and earth watch [to see] if I will dare.
You say to me, ‘Baptize me’, but above the angels watch
so that then they might say to me, ‘Know yourself.
How far will you go?’
So, as Moses said, choose another
to do this, Saviour, which you ask of me.
It is greater than I and I am afraid. I beg you.
For how can I baptize
the unapproachable light?
Ἐπέστης ῥείθροις διὰ τί; τί θέλων ἀποπλῦναι
ἢ ποίας ἁμαρτίας
ὁ δίχα ἁμαρτίας καὶ συλληφθεὶς καὶ γεννηθείς;
σὺ μὲν ἔρχῃ πρός με· οὐρανὸς δὲ καὶ ἡ γῆ
τηρεῖ, εἰ προπετεύσομαι·
λέγεις μοι· ‘βάπτισόν με’· ἀλλ’ ἄνωθεν ἄγγελοι σκοποῦσιν,
90 See Krueger (2014), 29–65, Gador-Whyte (2011), 23–37.

179
ἵνα τότε λέγωσί μοι· ‘γνῶθι σαυτόν·91

μέχρι ποῦ παρέρχῃ;’
ὡς εἶπεν οὖν Μωσῆς, προχείρισαι ἄλλον
εἰς αὐτὸ τοῦτο, σωτήρ, ὃ ἀπαιτεῖς με·
μεῖζον μου ἐστὶ καὶ δέδοικα· δέομαί σου·
πῶς γὰρ βαπτίσω
τὸ φῶς τό ἀπρόσιτον;
Romanos puts into the mouth of John the Baptist a rhetorically charged
stanza as he argues against baptizing Christ. He begins with two rhetorical
questions, the answer to the first of which he already knows (Christ has
already told him why he is there) and the second of which he answers in the
second line (i.e. Christ has no sin to wash away). John presents his dilemma
by placing Jesus in opposition to the physical world and the angels, and
imagining the angels’ response. He appeals to an important authority and
precedent: Moses also said no to God and at that time God sent Moses
a helper (Aaron) (Exodus 4:13–14). His honest admission of fear and the
final rhetorical question are perhaps the most affecting, especially when
juxtaposed with the reference to Moses. Although Moses was sent out by
God to do a very difficult thing (tell Pharaoh to let the Israelites go free), he
did not have to touch the ‘unapproachable light’. Moses was only allowed
to see God’s back (Exodus 33:23): God said to him, ‘you cannot see my
face; for no one shall see me and live’ (Exodus 33:20). If Moses, that great
patriarch, was not allowed even to look upon the face of God, how can he,
John, possibly baptize God? The style and content of this argument present
a vivid picture of an anxious and fearful Baptizer who recognizes the enor-
mity of the task and feels himself inadequate. This portrayal of emotions
vivifies the character of John for Romanos’ listeners. Their participation in
John’s story continues in the refrain, through which the congregation plays
the characters of both John and Jesus, enacting the drama as it unfolds.
Romanos thus facilitates participation in Christ through vivification of
biblical stories and clever characterization of Christ-like models of behav-
iour. Romanos’ conception of time after the incarnation means that sixth-
century Christians can participate in the Gospel stories when they reoccur
in the liturgy and he uses characterization and the refrain to make this hap-
pen in the kontakia as well. His own self-portrayal as a repentant sinner
draws the listeners into sympathy with him and encourages imitation of his
penitential model.
91 γνῶθι σαυτόν is one of the sayings of the Delphic Oracle to which Socrates refers in Plato
Alcibiades 1 124b and Hipparchus 228e. See also Philebus 48c.
180
Vivid Description (Ekphrasis)

Emotional engagement with biblical characters and exemplars is an impor-
tant aspect of Romanos’ participatory theology and to this end he augments
his characterizations with vivid description, a technique which orators,
poets and preachers had long used to elicit certain emotional responses
from their audiences.92
Ekphrasis before Romanos

As a brief example of the way in which the homiletic tradition before
Romanos employed vivid description to engage the audience’s emotions
and encourage transformation of lives, we turn to the fourth-century
preacher, poet and theologian Gregory Nazianzus. In his Oration 14, On
the Love of the Poor (PG 35.857–909), Gregory uses vivid descriptions to
create feelings of pity towards poor lepers in his congregation and then to
make his audience feel shame at their comparative wealth (13):
They lie beside each other, horribly united by their sickness, and each one
contributing another bit of misery to the general wretchedness. And they are
an addition to each other’s suffering, piteous in their weakness, more piteous
because it is shared suffering. … They toss about at the feet of men in the sun
and in the dust. At other times they suffer in the bitter frost, and in storms, and
in tumults of winds. They are not trampled upon only because we are loath to
touch them …
Οἱ μὲν κεῖνται μετ’ ἀλλήλων, κακῶς ὑπὸ τῆς νόσου συνεζευγμένοι, καὶ ἄλλος ἄλλο τι
τῆς συμφορᾶς πρὸς τὸ ἐλεεινὸν ἐρανίζοντες· καὶ εἰσὶν ἀλλήλοις προσθήκη τοῦ πάθους,
ἐλεεινοὶ τῆς ἀρρωστίας, τῆς συμπαθείας ἐλεεινότεροι. … Οἱ δὲ κυλινδοῦνται πρὸς τοῖς
ποσὶ τῶν ἀνθρώπων ἡλίῳ καὶ κόνει· ἔστι δὲ ὅτε καὶ κρυμοῖς ἀγρίοις, καὶ ὄμβροις, καὶ
ταραχαῖς ἀνέμων ταλαιπωρούμενοι, παρὰ τοσοῦτον οὐ συμπατούμενοι, παρ’ ὅσον
καὶ ψαύειν αὐτῶν βδελυσσόμεθα …
This section gives a taste of the colourful imagery Gregory uses to describe
the lepers. Their lot is one of pain and suffering, made worse somehow
because there are many of them together; other people cannot bear to touch
them. This vivid depiction of lepers in their wretched state is followed (in
section 17) by one on ‘our’ way of life. ‘We’ live in luxury, sleep in comfort-
able beds, desire the floor and table to be perfumed, are served by slave
boys, eat expensive and indulgent food, drink only the best wine. Gregory
uses this comparison to show his congregation that ‘we’ live in a state of
92 On ekphrasis in John Chrysostom, for example, see Ameringer (1921), 86–100.

18
gluttony and greed, in short, in ‘spiritual sickness’. ‘We’ are the lepers. Thus,
the feelings of pity evoked by this earlier ekphrasis are then turned around
to make the feeling one of self-disgust, or even self-pity. But this suggests
inaction. Gregory by no means advocates inactive self-pity; he follows this
inversion of roles with clear directions about how his congregation should
change their lives: by following the way of God and looking expectantly for
the eschaton.
Ekphrasis and Related Techniques in Romanos

Gregory’s use of vivid description is deliberately affective; it attempts to use
listeners’ emotional responses to change their behaviour. Romanos also
uses vivid description to elicit emotional responses from the congregation;
ekphrasis is part of an affective strategy to shape the listeners’ modes of
behaviour through appeals to emotion.93
Romanos’ own discussion of leprosy resonates strongly with Gregory’s
homily. In On the Healing of the Leper, Romanos includes a vivid descrip-
tion of leprosy which makes the congregation picture the disease and share
in the shame felt by the leper because of his affliction (VIII.5.3–8):94
It is more ugly than the other diseases among humans,
since the flesh is fed upon by it as though on fodder.
It attacks all the limbs
as if desiring to make the human appear as the definition of disgraces,
for unclean disease is the kinsman of mutilation
which medical skill is wholly incapable of treating …
τῶν παθῶν ἐστὶ τῶν ἄλλων δυσειδεστέρα ἐν ἀνθρώποις,
ὡς ἐπὶ χόρτου βοσκομένης τῆς σαρκὸς ὑπ’ αὐτῆς·
ἐπιτίθεται αὕτη τοῖς μέλεσι πᾶσιν,
ὥσπερ ἐπιθυμοῦσα παραδεῖξαι ὅλον ὄνειδος τὸν ἄνθρωπον·
τῆς λώβης γὰρ ὑπάρχει συγγενὴς ἡ ἀκάθαρτος νόσος,
ἣν τέχνη ἰατρείας ὅλως οὐ θεραπεύει …
The disease is almost personified; Romanos imagines that the disease

‘desires’ to disfigure the human, and that it ‘feeds’ or ‘is nurtured’ on human
flesh, as though it is some horrible animal. It is called both a ‘suffering’ or
‘misfortune’ and a ‘disease’. The desperate state of the leper is emphasized
by the exclusion from society that comes with ugliness and deformity and
the lack of any potential cure. This vivid description, and others throughout
93 See Gador-Whyte (2010).

94 For an analysis of this kontakion, see Barkhuizen (1997).
182
this kontakion, urge the congregation to pity the leper, and perhaps iden-
tify with him. Even more than this, they may see leprosy as symbolic of
human sinfulness generally and themselves as lepers, in need of the healing
of Christ.
The personified disease returns in stanza 16 when Romanos says that it
was terrified by Christ and so fled the leper (VIII.16.1–4):
The disease of leprosy, having been mortified
by the command of the Lord, ran away,
for the sickness shuddered when it saw the one who is creator and redeemer.
And yet the Arians do not thus shudder at the rule of the Lord,
the absolute power of the Word, the Son of God …
Νεκρωθὲν τῇ κελεύσει τοῦ κυρίου
δραπετεύει τὸ πάθος [τῆς λέ]πρας·
ἔφριξε γὰρ τὸ νόσημα αὐτὸν ἰδὸν τὸν κτίστην
καὶ λυτρωτήν·
καὶ οὐ φρίττουσιν οὐδ’ οὕτως Ἀρειανοὶ τ[ὴν δε]σποτείαν,
τὴν αὐθεντίαν τὴν τοῦ λόγου τοῦ υἱοῦ τοῦ Θεοῦ …
It might seem odd that Romanos chooses Arianism to compare with lep-
rosy, since it was not the most recent heresy to beset the church, but he
wants to emphasize the divinity of Christ, which the disease recognizes but
the Arians do not. The message about heretics can be broadened: heresy
is a disease, or even worse than a disease, since heretics do not acknowl-
edge Christ. Rejection of heresy therefore becomes rejection of disease and
defilement and assent to the wholesome life of God.
In the final strophe Romanos says (18.2):
Just as you pitied the leper, save [our] suffering by your word …
ὡς τὸν λεπρὸν ἠλέησας διώξας λόγῳ τὸ πάθος …
Through vivid description Romanos has connected leprosy with general

human suffering and sin. He thereby makes his congregation recognize their
sin and need for salvation. He also connects disease with heresy, reminding
his congregation that correct belief is a necessary part of their life as they
prepare for Christ’s second coming. Yet this use of ekphrasis also has the
effect of making the Gospel event, Jesus’ healing of the leper, vibrant and
present for his congregation. By the pity for the leper that Romanos invokes
in them the congregation is drawn into the story and partakes in the action.
The Gospel healing of the leper has become a sixth-century event.
Similarly, in On the Massacre of the Innocents, Romanos uses ekphrasis
to facilitate the congregation’s participation in the Gospel. He describes the
183
slaughter in graphic detail and over several strophes.95 Here is an early sec-
tion of the ekphrasis (III.9.1–11):
With a shining cloud spreading over
the Jews and overshadowing them,
Herod brought in the darkest gloom and made all humanity dark.
For the cheerful and laughing nature of children
straightaway he rendered bitter weeping.
Those who shortly before had rejoiced in the child
of the all-undefiled, holy Mary
now are altogether lamenting.
For as a flower which on the same day [it opens] falls down to the earth,
and everyone who sees it laments, [everyone] cries to Rachel,
‘Come, weep, Rachel, and mourn together with us [in] a lamenting song …’
Νεφέλης φωτεινῆς ἐφαπλωμένης
κατὰ τῆς Ἰουδαίας καὶ σκιαζούσης,
γνόφον σκοτεινότατον ὁ Ἡρώδης εἰσήνεγκε
καὶ ἐσκότισεν ἅπαντας·
τὴν ἱλαρὰν γὰρ φύσιν τῶν παίδων καὶ γελῶσαν
δεικνύει παραχρῆμα κλαίουσαν πικρῶς·
τὴν πρὸ μικροῦ ⟨ἔτι⟩ εὐφραινομένην τῷ τόκῳ
τῆς παναχράντου ἁγνῆς Μαρίας
καὶ ἄρτι μᾶλλον ὀδυρομένην·
ὡς ἄνθος γὰρ αὐθήμερον ἐπὶ τὴν γῆν κατέπιπτε,
καὶ πᾶς ὁρῶν ὠδύρετο καὶ τῇ Ῥαχὴλ ἐμήνυε·
‘Δεῦρο κλαῦσον, Ῥαχὴλ, καὶ συνθρήνησον ἡμῖν
μέλος ὀδυνηρόν·’
Romanos contrasts the happiness and laughter of children with the dark-
ness and gloom of Herod and the Jews. The joyful knowledge of God (the
children recognize Jesus as the Christ) is dramatically transformed into
lamentation. This is Romanos’ creative reinvention of a biblical narrative.
There is nothing in the Gospel accounts which suggests that anyone except
the Magi (and through them, Herod) was aware of Jesus’ birth or its signifi-
cance, but it makes a nice contrast with those carrying out the slaughter. To
this extent, we might see the children as ‘Christians’, being attacked by the
‘Jews’, their traditional enemies. Romanos asks his congregation to identify
with the innocent children, who knew and rejoiced in the coming of their
saviour, in contradistinction to the Jews who refused to acknowledge the
truth. He reinforces this request by vivid imagery: the ‘darkest gloom’ and
95 For a detailed analysis of this ekphrasis see Barkhuizen (2007), 29–50, esp. 36–7. On torture as
an oft-used topic for ekphrasis see Maguire (1981), 99.
184
‘darkening’ of line 3 are followed immediately by ‘cheerfulness’ and ‘laugh-

ter’ in line 4. But darkness returns in line 5, with ‘bitter weeping’. Romanos
takes his congregation on an emotional rollercoaster and it is their emo-
tional engagement with the story which makes them part of it.
Finally, as we have discussed above, Romanos uses his concept of sacred
time to make the narrative more real and immediate for his listeners. The
Old Testament figure of Rachel weeps and mourns with ‘us’ (line 11). Rachel
is the matriarch of the faith who cares for her people, but she is also an
ordinary mother mourning for her lost son, Joseph. Rachel becomes a con-
temporary figure, in two times: that of the Gospel event, and sixth-century
Constantinople. Time is conflated in the post-incarnation reality: the con-
gregation joins both with Rachel in mourning and with the people of the
Gospel story. This multi-layering is reminiscent of some of the contempo-
rary views about holy places investigated above. One holy place could take
on multiple layers of significance if an Old Testament narrative was seen to
prefigure that event.96 By visiting this place, the pilgrim could participate
in both the precursor of the event and the event itself. And, of course, we
have seen that church buildings could themselves be transformed into holy
places (loca sancta). Similarly, in this kontakion, Romanos makes pilgrims
out of his listeners, drawing them back to the loss of Rachel which prefig-
ures the first-century loss of life and asking them to participate in both.
Romanos continues this layering by associating the innocent children with
Abel (12.3), the first innocent to be murdered (Genesis 4:8).
Later in this kontakion, Romanos includes a graphic description of the
murders (III.14.1–9):
Those who were killed mercilessly with daggers,
as in the way of murder, were blameless children.
Some were tortured indecently and died, and others were cut up.
Others had their heads cut off whilst they were tugging
at their mothers’ breasts and drinking milk.
As a result the revered skulls of the infants
hung on their breasts,
and their teats were held back
within the mouths of the infants, in their delicate teeth.
Μαχαίραις ἀνηλεῶς ἀποκτανθέντα,
ὡς ἐν σχήματι φόνου, ἄμεμπτα βρέφη.
τὰ μὲν ἐκεντήθησαν ἀπρεπῶς καὶ ἀπέψυξαν, τὰ δὲ διεμερίσθησαν·
ἄλλα κάρας ἐτμήθη, τοὺς μασθοὺς τῶν μητέρων
96 MacCormack (1990), 26.
185
καθέλκοντα καὶ γάλα ποτιζόμενα,

ὡς ἐκ τούτου λοιπὸν ἐν τοῖς μασθοῖς κρεμασθῆναι
τὰ τῶν νηπίων σεπτὰ κρανία,
καὶ τὰς θηλὰς δὲ κατασχεθῆναι
ἔνδον αὐτῶν τοῦ στόματος τοῖς ὀδοῦσι †τοῖς τρυφεροῖς†.
Violence opens the stanza and stands in stark contrast to the images of
infancy and caring motherhood. Images of children slaughtered at their
mothers’ breasts are both revolting and affecting, since they highlight both
the innocence of those slaughtered and the heartlessness of the slaugh-
terers.97 Romanos also figures the children as new Abels, drawing on the
earlier characterization of Abel as the blameless victim of murder: ‘mur-
der’ is juxtaposed with ‘blameless’ in line 2. Just like Abel, the children are
‘revered’, beloved of God.
Romanos brings the slaughter to life, making the congregation vividly
picture the deaths and the mourning, encouraging them to act out the
role of witness to the Jewish soldiers’ brutality. Arguably, Romanos is
creating a picture of the Jews as barbaric slaughterers, but like Gregory
Nazianzus’ ekphrasis mentioned above, the main point is general human
sinfulness. Romanos wants his congregation to recognize the potential
for such action in themselves and to turn away from it. By shaping their
emotional responses to the biblical event, Romanos directs them towards
Christian behaviour.
This vivid description is an appeal to the imagination through sight,
encouraging the listener to visualize the event. Romanos also appeals to
other senses. References to aroma, anointing, perfume and scent in On
the Sinful Woman (X.1.1, 4; 3.1; 5.3 and passim) conjure up the scene of
her bathing Christ’s feet and remind the congregation of beautiful scents
associated with the liturgy.98 Romanos’ descriptions are so vivid they are
almost ekphrastic, in that they bring the scene before the eyes (or perhaps
one should say the nose!) of the listeners. Although the passage which fol-
lows is a simile, it is one which certainly has the quality of activity (enar-
geia) which is essential for vivid description. At X.1.1–4, Christ’s words are
sweet-smelling and in stark contrast to the woman’s ill-smelling sins:
The once prostitute, perceiving the words of Christ
sprinkled everywhere like spices
97 In line 3 Romanos follows the listing technique considered desirable by theorists like
Hermogenes, in the use of τὰ μὲν … τὰ δὲ to describe the different deaths the children suffered,
and the alliteration of ἀπρεπῶς and ἀπέψυξαν emphasizes the indecency in their deaths.
98 Barkhuizen (1990a), 35–6. On the sinful woman in the Syriac tradition and the use of scent in
those homilies, see Harvey (2006), 148ff.
186
and supplying life-giving breath to all believers,

hated the ill-smelling nature of her deeds.
Τὰ ῥήματα τοῦ Χριστοῦ καθάπερ ἀρώματα
ῥαινόμενα πανταχοῦ βλέπων ἡ πόρνη ποτὲ
καὶ τοῖς πιστοῖς πᾶσι πνοὴν ζωῆς χορηγοῦντα,
τῶν πεπραγμένων αὑτῇ τὸ δυσῶδες ἐμίσησεν …
The woman buys an expensive perfume to bathe Christ’s feet (X.8), but here
it is Christ’s words which smell sweet. Romanos draws on the tradition of
sensual participation. He takes advantage of the references to perfume in
the Gospel story and by developing this theme he makes a link between
the incense smelt by the congregation during the service and the words of
Christ which he proclaims (and which the congregation have heard in the
Gospel reading). He appeals to the congregation’s memory of the scent of
incense in earlier parts of the liturgy but also to their familiarity with scent
as a part of worship more generally. The connection between the words and
scent in this passage is assonantly emphasized, as is the effect of the life-
giving breath (pnoēn) on the woman who was once a prostitute (pornē pote).
This passage is also an allusion to 2 Corinthians 2:14–16a:
But thanks be to God, who in Christ always leads us in triumphal procession, and
through us spreads in every place the fragrance that comes from knowing him. For
we are the aroma of Christ to God among those who are being saved and among
those who are perishing; to the one a fragrance from death to death, to the other a
fragrance from life to life.
Romanos too desires to spread the sweet smell of Christ among his congre-
gation. The sinful woman spreads ‘the fragrance which comes from know-
ing [Christ]’ rather than the stench of her former actions. By appealing to
their sense of smell, Romanos draws the congregation into sympathy with
the woman and encourages them to mimic her actions.
Christ’s sweet scent is life-giving perfume in On the Raising of Lazarus I
(XIV.12.7–9; Hades speaks):99
And the ill smell has left them [i.e. the limbs of Lazarus].
Alas! Truly Jesus has come. He, having sent the smell towards us,
perfumed the foul-smelling [corpse] …
καὶ ἀφῆκεν αὐτὰ δυσοσμία·
οἴμοι ὄντως Ἰησοῦς ἦλθεν· οὗτος, πέμψας
τὴν ὀσμὴν πρὸς ἡμᾶς,
τὸν ὀζέσαντα εὐωδίασε …
99 See Barkhuizen (1994), 101.

187
Like the foul-smelling deeds of the sinful woman, here Romanos uses scent
to make vivid the resurrection of Lazarus and thereby shape his listeners’
lives. The stench of the dead is a powerful, physical image which accentuates
human sin and separation from God. Romanos explains the resurrection
in olfactory terms: Jesus is the means by which Lazarus (and therefore all
humanity) becomes sweet smelling again. The despair of Hades is a cause
of joy and hope for Romanos’ listeners: the advent of Christ has overturned
stench (death) and restored humanity to fragrance (life).
Sweet fragrance is a symbol of holiness and the means of salvation in On
the Three Children (XLVI.3):
So they offered a hymn on behalf of all and from all,
the three-perfumed fragrance supplicating the Lord,
‘You who are benefactor in everything and blameless in every way,
do not let this stream of idolatry provoke you
when you see your earth full and stinking everywhere of
demonic sacrifices and transgressions.
For we are like incense in the middle of the filth.
If it seems good to you, Saviour, catch the scent
of your slaves and your true beloved,
the sweet-smelling Daniel whom you love. For with us he cries aloud to you,
“Come quickly, merciful one, and hasten, as the one who has pity,
to our aid, because you are able to do what you will.” ’
Ὕμνον οὖν ὑπὲρ πάντων προσέφερον ὡς ἐκ πάντων
ἡ τρίμυρος εὐωδία τὸν δεσπότην ἱκετεύουσα·
‘Εὐεργέτα ἐν πᾶσι καὶ ἄμωμε κατὰ πάντα,
ὁ τῆς εἰδωλολατρείας ὀχετὸς μὴ παροξύνῃ σε
ἐκ θυσιῶν δαιμόνων καὶ ἐκ παραπτωμάτων
ὁρῶν τὴν γῆν σου γέμουσαν καὶ παντόθεν ἐξόζουσαν·
ἐσμὲν γὰρ ἐν μέσῳ βορβόρου ὡς θυμίαμα·
εἰ δοκεῖ σοι, ὀσφράνθητι ἡμῶν
τῶν σῶν δούλων, σῶτερ, καὶ τοῦ γνησίου φίλου σου
τοῦ εὐόσμου Δανιὴλ ὃν ἠγάπησας· σὺν ἡμῖν γὰρ κραυγάζει σοι·
“τάχυνον, ὁ οἰκτίρμων, καὶ σπεῦσον ὡς ἐλεήμων
εἰς τὴν βοήθειαν ἥμων, ὅτι δύνασαι βουλόμενος.” ’
Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego become a ‘three-perfumed’ scent which

carries through the stench of human sin to God’s nose; their fragrance (as
well as their words) draws God’s attention and enables their salvation from
the fire. Once again, Romanos uses scent imagery physically to repel his con-
gregation from sin (‘demonic sacrifices and transgressions’) and turn them
towards Christ and new creation life. Loaded words like ‘idolatry’, ‘sacrifices’
18
and ‘transgressions’ make sin into heresy, suggesting that a rejection of true
orthodoxy is as deadly as any other offence. Listeners are called upon to imi-
tate the three children by remaining adherents of the true faith and so retain
their sweet fragrance by which God will know them at the eschaton.
Ekphrasis and other sensory appeals thus enable Romanos to create new
(albeit biblically grounded) narratives which draw his congregation into the
Gospel events and into Christ-like living. Through vivid description and
imagery, the listeners become witnesses of the events, taking them back
to the Gospel events and simultaneously making Gospel events contem-
porary. Time is reoriented and past events become present realities in the
sixth-century liturgy. Thus the congregation participates in these events,
and therefore in the life of Christ. Physical appeals to the senses help listen-
ers identify with characters and actions and enable Romanos to shape their
modes of behaviour.
Direct Address (Apostrophe)

The final device I focus on is apostrophe, or direct address: the narrator
intrudes on the narrative by addressing either the listeners or the charac-
ters in the story directly. It is linked to both characterization and ekphrasis,
since it includes speech or dialogue and creates a similar vividness in the
narrative. Its purpose is to shape the listener’s response to an event, person
or thing by vividly depicting the narrator’s response.100
Earlier and Contemporary Uses of Apostrophe

Clearly, apostrophe was a signficant and ubiquitous device in earlier and
contemporary homiletics.101 By directly addressing characters or listeners,
preachers could build emotional engagement in their audience, strengthen
invective or praise, emphasize points of doctrine, and augment and expand
biblical narratives; these functions will all be seen in Romanos’ use of apos-
trophe. To take an initial example, from earlier homiletics, in his sermons
On the Judaizing Christians John Chrysostom apostrophized the Jews, call-
ing out ‘You Jews’ at the opening of a criticism or attack.102 Chrysostom
100 Block (1982), 8–9.

101 For example, for a discussion of John Chrysostom’s use of apostrophe in homily 6, in which he
addresses the apostle Paul, see Heath (2004), 396–400. See also Glenthøj (1997), 272.
102 Chrysostom’s attack is a singular one: ‘You Jew’, but refers to all Jews. See Harkins’s note
in Harkins (1979), 7 n. 28. On these discourses, see, for example, Maxwell (2006), 83ff.,
Shepardson (2008), 64–5, Wilken (1983). On anti-Judaism in late antiquity and in Romanos,
see Chapter 3 above.
189
addresses the Jewish race, setting before them their iniquity, for the benefit
of Christians who envy the ancient traditions and rituals of Judaism and
desire to partake in them. Through these apostrophes, which are rhetori-
cally highly charged, Chrysostom characterizes the Jews and encourages his
listeners to agree with his portrayal:
Are you Jews still disputing the question? Do you not see that you are condemned
by the testimony of what Christ and the prophets predicted and which the facts
have proved? But why should this surprise me? That is the kind of people you are.
From the beginning you have been shameless and obstinate, ready to fight at all
times against obvious facts.103
Ἔτι οὖν ἀμφισβητεῖς, ὦ Ἰουδαῖε, καὶ τὴν ἀπὸ τοῦ τῆς Χριστοῦ προῤῥήσεως,
καὶ τὴν ἀπὸ τῆς τῶν προφητῶν καὶ τῆς τῶν πραγμάτων ἀποδείξεως μαρτυρίαν
ὁρῶν σου καταψηφιζομένην; Ἀλλ’ οὐδὲν θαυμαστόν· τοιοῦτον γὰρ ὑμῶν τὸ ἔθνος
ἄνωθεν ἀναίσχυντον καὶ φιλόνεικον, καὶ τοῖς φανεροῖς ἀεὶ μάχεσθαι μεμελετηκὸς
πράγμασι.
Chrysostom’s use of rhetorical questions and invective in his direct addresses

to the Jews makes a mockery of Judaism. Judaism is made to seem outdated
and wrong, and Jews appear stubborn in their persistent rejection of truth
and goodness. Through his use of apostrophe, Chrysostom focused the
minds of listeners on (his belief in) the superiority of Christianity.
Apostrophe also allowed preachers to explore and explain points of
doctrine. Basil of Seleucia used it to emphasize the significance of the
raising of Lazarus.104 At the end of the homily on Lazarus he addresses
Death directly (13), telling him his grief is well-founded because of
Christ’s death and resurrection. The character of Death is brought into the
world of the fifth century not as a powerful monster but as a defeated and
dejected figure. It is a strong message to the congregation that ‘death no
longer has dominion’.105 Basil not only vivified the narrative, but empha-
sized the change in the nature of death after the incarnation through his
use of apostrophe.
Romanos’ contemporary Leontius of Constantinople uses direct address
to flesh out the story of Christ’s resurrection. His homily On Palm Sunday
(CPG 7983) includes a lively dialogue between Martha and Jesus elaborated
from the Gospel account (e.g. John 11:1–44). Martha is almost adamant
that Jesus can do nothing for her brother because he has been dead for four
days (322) and Jesus is somewhat annoyed at Martha’s constant questioning
103 Translation taken from Harkins (1979), 140.

104 See Cunningham (1986), 161–84.
105 Romans 6:9.
190
and scepticism (342). Towards the end of the homily Leontius himself asks
Jesus why he could not roll back the stone himself:
Why, Lord, did you not have the strength to do this yourself? You raise a corpse and
you do not roll away a stone?
Τί γάρ, δέσποτα, αὐτὸς οὐκ ἰσχύεις τοῦτο ποιῆσαι; Νεκρὸν ἐγείρεις καὶ λίθον οὐ
κυλίεις; (367–8)
Leontius then reports Jesus’ response:

Yes, it is not out of weakness that I order [the stone to be moved], but from my own
wisdom that I command the Jews, so that they might be informed not only by sight
and smell that what happened is true and not an illusion and that I am the Lord of
the dead and the living.
Ναί, οὐκ ἀπὸ ἀσθενείας κελεύω, ἀλλ’ ἀπὸ σοφίας ἰδίας ἐπιτάττω τοῖς Ἰουδαίοις, ὅπως
μὴ μόνον τῇ ὄψει καὶ τῇ ὀσφρήσει πληροφορηθῶσιν, ὅτι ἀλήθεια καὶ οὐ φαντασία τὸ
γινόμενον, καὶ ὅτι ἐγώ εἰμι ὁ νεκρῶν καὶ ζώντων κύριος. (373–6)
Leontius makes himself part of the story when he asks the character of
Jesus for an explanation of his actions; he becomes a first-hand witness
to a Gospel event and so makes the story lively and engaging.106 Leontius
vocalizes the doubt and queries of his congregation through his created
persona and gives the theological response more weight by placing it in
Jesus’ mouth.
Apostrophe in Romanos
Like these homilists, Romanos uses direct address to facilitate his congre-
gation’s participation in the new creation.107 In On the Marriage at Cana,
Romanos addresses the character of Mary and she responds (VII.6.1–3,
7.2–3):
We entreat you, holy virgin: Did you know the nature of his miracles,
how your son was able to give wine freely, not having gathered the grapes,
not yet being a miracle-worker, as the godly John wrote?
Σὲ δυσωποῦμεν, παρθένε σεμνή· ἐκ ποίων ἔγνως θαυμάτων αὐτοῦ
ὡς δύναται ὁ ὑϊός σου σταφυλὴν μὴ τρυγήσας τὸν οἶνον χαρίζεσθαι
οὔπω θαυματουργήσας πρώην, ὡς Ἰωάννης ὁ θεσπέσιος ἔγραψεν;
106 See further in Allen and Datema (1991), 14–15.

107 Barkhuizen (1986a), 20. Barkhuizen only includes narrative intrusions which address
characters in the kontakia, and not direct addresses to the listeners. Whereas Block specifically
refers to occasions when the narrator addresses the audience: Block (1982), 8. I have included
both in my analysis.
19
‘Listen friends,’ she says, ‘that you might all

understand and perceive the mystery.
See my son is already a miracle-worker even before this marvel …’
‘Ἀκούσατε’, φησίν, ‘ὦ φίλοι,
συνετίσθητε πάντες καὶ γνῶτε μυστήριῦ·
εἶδον τὸν ὑϊόν μου ἤδη θαυματουργοῦντα καὶ πρὸ τούτου τοῦ θαύματος·’
Romanos’ imaginative dialogue makes the congregation a character with

him in the Gospel story: together they ask Mary a question. Romanos gives
his exegesis a Marian pedigree while transforming his listeners into partic-
ipants, into Mary’s contemporaries and indeed interlocutors. This is also
part of Romanos’ enactment of sacred time. By making the biblical charac-
ter of Mary address his audience, he can cast her as a contemporary figure
and emphasize the change in the nature of time which has taken place as a
result of the ultimate miracle: God’s incarnation.
At the beginning of On the Presentation in the Temple, Romanos calls on
his congregation to take part in the Gospel (IV.1.1–2):
Let us rush to the God-bearer, we who wish to see her son
brought before Symeon.
Τῇ θεοτόκῳ προδράμωμεν οἱ βουλόμενοι
κατιδεῖν τὸν υἱὸν αὐτῆς
πρὸς Συμεὼν ἀπαγόμενον·
Mary is made a contemporary, local character; she lives around the cor-
ner from the church and Romanos urges the congregation to hurry or they
might miss an important local event. As narrator, Romanos draws them
into the story of which he is already a part.
On the Resurrection II is another such example.108 Romanos places him-
self right in the action of the hymn and addresses Christ, Hades and the
guards at the tomb about the resurrection.109 His professed reason for this
is to convert even those who hate Christ (XXV.1.6–7) and he does this
by recreating himself as a sort of time-travelling and boundary-crossing
journalist who secures first-hand testimonies from those who witnessed
the resurrection. He wants to discover the inner workings of the resurrec-
tion: what actually happened, how it happened and what its effect was, is
or will be. Through Romanos the interviewer, the congregation comes face
108 Interestingly, it is not one which Barkhuizen identifies in his list.

109 In Marjorie Carpenter’s translation, the only complete English translation of the hymns, she
puts the questioning of Hades into the mouth of Adam. See Carpenter (1970), 263. There is,
however, nothing in the Greek text to suggest that it is not Romanos speaking.
192
to face with a whinging Hades who mourns his loss and complains about
being mocked for something he could not have been expected to predict.
It is, in fact, not unlike the speech given by Death in Basil of Seleucia’s
homily discussed above. In his lengthy speech Romanos’ Hades details the
effect of the resurrection upon him: the destruction of his kingdom and his
own enslavement (stanza 7). He describes the resurrection of the prophets,
whom Christ leads out of hell and who sing and dance as they leave (8,
10–11). Death is completely defeated and is a vivid and believable character
in his defeat. He is a sore loser, a cheater who has been found out. Romanos
brings this character to life through speeches.
Following his conversation with Death, Romanos then turns to the men
who guarded the tomb. After some coaxing, they relate that the angel rolled
away the stone (stanzas 16–17) and the women came to anoint Jesus’ body
(18). Having given this testimony they then try to convince Romanos not to
believe it, saying they have been persuaded by money (20). But Romanos is
not persuaded and rejoices in discovering the truth even from the mouths
of liars (21). They are reluctant informers and, once again, very believa-
ble characters: their silence has been bought but such loyalty is short-lived;
they tell the truth with only a little persuasion. This image of the true liar
appears in a few of Romanos’ hymns and emphasizes that God’s truth will
not remain hidden; God can use even the tongues of his enemies to get his
message out. In this hymn Romanos’ persona as well as character develop-
ment draws the congregation into the events. We have seen how Romanos’
self-
construction contributes to the congregation’s involvement in the
events of the kontakia.
Yet most instances of apostrophe in Romanos’ kontakia do not involve a
dialogue between Romanos and the addressee, but are a rhetorical address
without response from the character. The most extended apostrophe is that
of On Judas, in which Romanos addresses both Christ and Judas, in the
latter’s case several times and over several strophes. Romanos’ addresses to
Judas are filled with hatred and disgust at his actions (XVII.5.1–5):
Unrighteous one, heartless, implacable, brigand, traitor, schemer!
What happened that you rejected him?
What did you see that you acted so foolishly? What did you suffer that you hated
him so much?
Did he not name you as his friend?
Did he not call you brother, although he knew you had deceived him?
Ἄδικε, ἄστοργε, ἄσπονδε, πειρατά, προδότα, πολυμήχανε,
τί γέγονεν ὅτι ἠθέτησας;
τί ἰδὼν οὕτως ἠφρόνησας; τί παθὼν οὕτως ἐμίσησας;
193
Conclusions 193
οὐκ αὑτοῦ φίλον σε ὠνόμασεν;

οὐκ αὐτὸς ἀδελφόν σε κέκληκε, καίτοι εἰδὼς ὅτι δεδόλωσαι;
This is one of many such passages in this kontakion. They are designed to
make his congregation feel Romanos’ outrage and participate in it.110 Judas
is not given any opportunity to explain his actions; rather Romanos and the
congregation act as judge over him, and strongly condemn him.111 In this
case, Romanos models what he sees as the correct response for the congre-
gation to imitate.
Romanos also speaks directly to the congregation to call them to partic-
ipate in Gospel events. In On the Raising of Lazarus II, he says (XV.18.1–3):
Let us all hate fleeting matter and let us now meet our saviour, Christ,
who is hurrying to Bethany,
so that we might feast with him, with his friend Lazarus and the disciples,
and may we now be delivered from evils by their prayers.
Ὕλην ῥευστὴν μισήσωμεν πάντες καὶ Χριστῷ τῷ σωτῆρι ὑπαντήσωμεν νῦν
ἐν Βηθανίᾳ σπεύδοντι,
ὅπως αὐτῷ συνεστιαθῶμεν σὺν τῷ φίλῳ Λαζάρῳ καὶ ἀποστόλοις,
καὶ ταῖς αὐτῶν ἱκεσίαις ῥυσθῶμεν τῶν πρώην κακῶν·
The journey to Bethany is not something that happened centuries ago, but a
present reality. The ‘feast’ has two referents: the eucharist and, ultimately, the
eschaton. We have seen that Romanos understands the eucharist as a par-
ticipation in the crucifixion of Christ and in the eternal feast taking place in
heaven. At the eucharist, humans glimpse eternity, when all humanity will
come together to ‘feast’ eternally with Christ and Lazarus and the disciples.
Through apostrophe, Romanos focuses his listeners’ attention on their par-
ticipation in Christ and its future consummation.
Conclusions
Romanos’ hymns revolve around the conviction that the incarnation has
brought about a decisive change in the world. Although the world is not
yet the ultimate paradise God promises humanity, Romanos argues that
the result of God becoming human is that the world is a fundamentally
new place which Christians experience in a radical new temporality which
anticipates heavenly joys. Time is time in its fullness, with biblical events,
the incarnation and anticipation of heavenly perfection shaping Christian
110 Barkhuizen (1986a), 25–6.
111 Frank (2006b), 69.
194
life in radical ways. This understanding of the fullness of time is seen in

a wide range of contemporary texts, including homiletics, liturgical prac-
tices and in Christian art and architecture. Christians experience it as they
participate in divine reality in the liturgy in churches whose architecture,
decorative schemes and discursively imagined space tie heaven to earth and
make space and time a holy anticipation of paradise.
This new reality brings with it responsibilities for Christians. Romanos
believes that Christians are called to participate in the life of Christ and
to live out a Christ-like life in preparation for and in anticipation of the
coming eschaton. He sees that the liturgy already acts out that participation
through the eucharist and baptism and through the concept of the heavenly
liturgy, in which the earthly liturgy takes part. Romanos emphasizes and
re-enacts these modes of participation; he also uses rhetorical techniques
to facilitate it: characterization, ekphrasis and apostrophe. These techniques
make Gospel events vibrant and immediate, bringing them into the eternal
present which anticipates the eschaton. Through the refrain and dialogue,
the congregation takes on different roles, playing out the biblical narratives;
Romanos creates characters (including his own persona) with whom the
congregation can identify and whom they may be able to imitate. These
characters enact proper Christian behaviour in the time before the second
coming. Vivid description makes the congregation witness the events, and
other sensory appeals demonstrate the proper use of the senses as a means
of connection with God. By directly addressing characters in the narrative,
Romanos once again acts out the change in time, making biblical events
contemporary and contemporary characters biblical. The congregation is
thus drawn into participation in the new creation, which Romanos sees as
the responsibility of Christians: they are to act out their humanity which
has been corrected and perfected in Christ; they thus anticipate eschato-
logical reality.
195
On the Resurrection IV: Conclusions and Beyond
There is a vibrancy and urgency to Romanos’ poetry and his creative engage-
ment with biblical stories. Anticipation of the approaching end times and
expectant hope in the general resurrection drive Romanos’ theology and
pastoral preaching and help to generate his exuberant imagery. He crafts
his compositions to guide his listeners into faithful new creation living. He
shows how God in Christ corrects human wrongs and perfects humanity
in himself, and he insists that Christians are called to enact this renewed
humanity. He explores the concept of recreation, explaining the impact of
the incarnation of Christ on time and history. And he argues that there is a
still greater miracle to come: the final consummation of God’s promise in
the return to paradise.
Romanos’ theology is dramatic; it is performed, enacted, lived, in the kon-
takia. Through dramatic techniques, rhetorical devices, vivifying imagery,
Romanos makes both the biblical narratives and God’s call upon Christians
come to life. He creates imaginative and engaging dialogues which help to
perform the life of Christ and make participation in that life seem more pos-
sible. The performed stories in the kontakia are ‘world-creating’.1 They cre-
ate a sacred space and spiritual temporality in which the lives of Romanos’
audience can be transformed by the reality of the new creation. Romanos’
kontakia function in part to help his listeners participate in Gospel stories,
engage with theological ideas, identify with Christ-like models and ulti-
mately enact the Christ-like life in anticipation of the eschaton.
We have seen how Romanos uses particular rhetorical techniques to give
life to his theology, how he lets his imagination run wild with biblical nar-
ratives, dramatizing and expanding existing stories to explore their salvific
significance. The beauty of Romanos’ compositions reflects his sense of the
beauty of creation, which has been remade in Christ at the incarnation.
To draw together several of the themes of this book, I offer an analysis
of On the Resurrection IV. This kontakion is set down for the third Sunday
after Easter, and opens with the story of the woman with the lost coin (Luke
For an important account of the ways in which enacted concepts make worlds, see
1
Goodman (1978). 195

196
196 On the Resurrection IV: Conclusions and Beyond
15:8–10).2 It is mostly concerned with the harrowing of hell. We will see

that the theological concepts outlined in this book are once again impor-
tant in this kontakion, although I do not claim to have captured Romanos’
thought in toto, and the following analysis also points to more in Romanos
that would be worth exploring.
Romanos begins with an allegorical interpretation of the Lucan read-
ing: the woman represents Christ, who is the wisdom of God (XXVII.2.3–4);
the nine safe coins represent the angelic hierarchy and the one lost coin is
Adam (2.5–9). Romanos was probably influenced by a homily of Pseudo-
Chrysostom in this interpretation,3 and throughout this book we have seen
his indebtedness to earlier traditions of homiletics and exegesis. But he char-
acteristically has his own emphases, and in this instance he is more explicit
than Ps-Chrysostom in his assertion that the woman represents Christ.
Romanos has no trouble with a woman representing Christ, just as in other
kontakia he presents the sinful woman, the haemorrhaging woman and the
Samaritan woman as models of penitence, piety and faith.
The following stanza explores God’s actions to find the lost ‘coin’, taking
on the role of the second Adam (XXVII.3):
Conquered by love, he came into the world to seek out
the one who had wandered, his creature,
he who is without beginning and incomprehensible, son of God and our God,
both wisely and divinely, as God, he carries out the search for this man.
And being made flesh from his mother, whom he swept clean and sanctified,
and, as a lamp of light, he presents his body,
illuminating everything at once by the fire and oil of his divinity.
For fire and clay always make a lamp.
So thus from his divinity and his fleshliness,
Christ caused the light of the lamp to shine,
[Christ], the life and the resurrection.
Ὑπὸ στοργῆς ἐκνικηθείς, ἦλθεν ἐν κόσμῳ ζητῆσαι
τὸ πλανηθὲν αὑτοῦ κτίσμα
ὁ ἄναρχος καὶ ἄφραστος ὑϊός τε τοῦ Θεοῦ καὶ Θεὸς ἡμῶν,
καὶ σοφῶς καὶ θεϊκῶς ὥσπερ Θεὸς τούτου ποιεῖται τὴν ζήτησιν,
καὶ σαρκοῦται ἐκ μητρὸς ἣν †ἐσάρωσε† καὶ ἡγίασε,
καὶ ὥσπερ λύχνον φωτὸς προσφέρει τὴν σάρκα,
τῷ πυρὶ καὶ τῷ ἐλαίῳ
I cannot find anything to suggest that this was the Gospel reading set down for the day, but it
2
seems unlikely that it was not, given the pains Romanos takes to weave it into the opening of
his kontakion.
PG 61, 781–4. See Grosdidier de Matons (1967), 572–74.
3
197
On the Resurrection IV: Conclusions and Beyond 197
τῷ τῆς θεότητος καταυγάσας τὰ σύμπαντα·

πῦρ γὰρ ἀεὶ καὶ πηλὸς λύχνον ποιεῖ·
οὕτως οὖν ἔλαμψεν ἐκ θεότητος καὶ σαρκώσεως
τὸ τοῦ λύχνου φῶς, Χριστός,
ἡ ζωὴ καὶ ἀνάστασις.
Romanos weaves a web of imagery, drawing on, recalling and elucidating

the doctrinal and salvific significance of the Lucan story. The woman swept
her house clean in order to find the coin; Jesus swept clean the womb that
housed him so that he might enter the world and find his precious lost one.
The woman lights a lantern so that she can see clearly to find the coin; Jesus is
himself the lighted lamp which enlightens the world and restores lost Adam.
Christ’s unique role in salvation history as ‘second Adam’ and perfect God and
man provides the grammar for these analogies of similarity and difference.
Romanos strongly emphasizes Christ’s two natures in this stanza, and
their equal importance in human salvation. Language and imagery in lines
1 to 3 highlight the relationship of the Son to the Father and the divine
nature of Christ. Romanos draws on doctrinal language about Christ and
his lack of separation from God even at the incarnation. Words for God and
divine are repeated throughout and even the reference to Mary, whose role
in salvation Romanos often emphasizes, is made in terms of Christ’s divine
actions towards her: he cleansed and sanctified her by making her bear him.
Whereas Romanos often accentuates Mary’s virginity and purity (and will
again later in this kontakion, stanza 13), here he has Christ ‘sweep her clean’,
reinforcing that Christ perfects humanity in the incarnation.
Christ’s flesh bookends lines 4 and 5: Christ’s human nature is just as
important for human salvation as his divine one. We have seen how this
emphasis resonates with Chalcedonian christological formulations. From
then on Romanos makes reference to divine and human natures through
the metaphor of the lamp. Christ’s humanity is presented as the clay, the
earthy fabric of the lamp; it is his divinity which provides the fuel and the
flame. The word for oil is perhaps also intended to recall the Holy Spirit,
who descends upon the initiate thus anointed at baptism. Word pairs play
an important role in this stanza, as a way of acting out the pairing of two
natures in Christ. They are also inscribed into the kontakion through the
refrain. And here, ‘divinity’ and ‘fleshliness’ map onto ‘life’ and ‘resurrec-
tion’ in that final line.
The metaphor continues in the following stanza (4):
Then he went up onto the cross, as the lamp onto the lampstand,
and he observed from there,
198
crouching in gloom and darkness, Adam, the first-created.

And he who is inseparable [from heaven] hurries,
travelling far in the flesh to [Adam],
not separated from his father’s bosom, and still fulfilling the things that happened.
He took with him the gall and the vinegar, the nails and the spear,
in order that with the spear and the nails
he might wound Death straightaway and with the gall
he might make things bitter for the unjust Hades encountering him,
and cause him pain by the vinegar he drank,
he who is the Life and the Resurrection.
Τότε ἀνῆλθεν ἐν σταυρῷ ὡς ἐν λυχνίᾳ ὁ λύχνος, καὶ ἐθεώρει ἐκεῖθεν
ἐν σκότει καθεζόμενον καὶ ἐν γνόφῳ τὸν Ἀδὰμ τὸν πρωτόπλαστον.
καὶ σπουδάζει πρὸς αὐτὸν ἀποδημεῖν διὰ σαρκὸς ὁ ἀχώριστος,
ὁ τῶν κόλπων τοῦ πατρὸς μὴ χωρισθεὶς καὶ πληρῶν τὰ γινόμενα.
ἔλαβε μεθ’ ἑαυτοῦ χολήν τε καὶ ὄξος,
τούς τε ἥλους καὶ τὴν λόγχην,
ἵνα τῇ λόγχῃ μὲν καὶ τοῖς ἥλοις τὸν Θάνατον
τρώσῃ εὐθὺς καὶ π[ικρά]νῃ τῇ χολῇ
Ἅιδην τὸν ἄδικον συναντήσαντα, δριμ[υχθέν]τα δὲ4
ὄξει ὅπερ ἔπιεν
ἡ ζωὴ καὶ ἀνάστασις.
Christ is again the lamp in this stanza: the lamp raised on the lampstand,
from Matthew 5:15,5 which gives light to all. This is certainly an important
resonance for Romanos, but Romanos also uses this image for a different
purpose: Christ can now see further. Romanos’ character of Christ has been
seeking Adam, looking everywhere like the woman with the lost coin, and
from his raised position on the lampstand – that is, the cross – he has a
clearer vision and catches sight of his lost one. The death of Christ is the
means by which Adam is redeemed, but the picture we have of that death is
one removed from any sense of suffering. Instead, Romanos focuses on the
loving God whose every action, every concern is for his lost creature, and
for whom crucifixion is simply the means of restoring Adam to his bosom.
Romanos’ crucified Christ, in this example, draws both on Pauline themes
and on the glorified and exalted Johannine Christ.
The lamp is also the second Adam: the contrast between light and dark in
the first few lines makes this clear. The first Adam is shrouded in darkness,
crouching in the gloom of hell, and it is the second Adam who will restore
him to the light. Again, Romanos stresses the importance of Christ’s two
I have followed the reconstruction in the SC edition here: Grosdidier de Matons (1967), 582.

4
And similar texts in other Gospels: Mark 4:21, Luke 8:16, Luke 11:33.

5
19
natures in this restoration. It is his flesh, combined with his inseparabil-

ity from God, which enables the second Adam to redeem and ‘enlighten’
the first.
To do this, Christ uses the weapons of the crucifixion against Hades:
Death’s own weapons are turned upon him. The way Romanos uses the
spear and the nails – as weapons to wound Hades – recalls imagery of
Hades stabbed by the cross, iconography employed elsewhere by Romanos
but also in contemporary homiletics and later Christian art.6 Romanos also
makes Christ into a poisonous dish for the hungry Hades: the gall and vin-
egar which he drank on the cross will give Death a stomach ache when he
swallows Christ. We have seen images elsewhere of Christ as the healer, as
the doctor who cures Adam of his gluttony-induced stomach aches. Here,
Christ is the instigator of pain and suffering. Once more we see the twinned
images of redemption and punishment which are part of Christ’s correction
of the sins of the world and perfection of humanity. Adam is redeemed
partly through the punishment of Hades. And, as we saw in the previous
stanza, Romanos uses word pairs to match the double description of Christ
in the refrain: gall and vinegar, spear and nails, will be used by the Life and
the resurrection to wound and give pain to Death.
Christ descends into hell and Romanos likens him to Jonah (5.4–5):
For, indeed, just like Jonah, he was also in the belly of the tomb,
having been carried into the grave just as he willed it,
but in the coffin [Christ] lay awake.
καὶ γὰρ [[καὶ]] δὴ ὡς Ἰωνᾶς
ἦν καὶ αὐτὸς [ἐν] κοιλίᾳ τοῦ μνήματος·
ἐν τάφῳ μὲν πορευθεὶς καθ[ὼς] ἠβουλήθη,
ἐν σορῷ δὲ ἀγρυπνήσας·
As we have seen in our discussion of typology, antitype surpasses type, gov-

erned by the grammar of the divine plan of salvation: Christ intended that
he should descend into the tomb, whereas Jonah was certainly unwilling.
The typology holds nicely in line 5: Jonah was awake in the fish and Christ
in the tomb. ‘Lay awake’ (agrypnēsas) is also related to the word Romanos
uses for the night vigil in On the Man Possessed, suggesting that Christ kept
a vigil in the tomb just as Jonah prayed to God from the belly of the fish
and just as Romanos’ congregation now keeps a vigil. Romanos’ listeners
are drawn into the tomb and the fish with both Christ and Jonah, and they
6 On this image and its use in homiletics, hymnography and iconography, see Frazer (1974),
153–61.
20
perform the descent into hell as part of their enactment of Christ’s life.
Romanos emphasizes death through variation, using three different words
for ‘tomb’ in two lines.
And it is in that tomb that the drama of the kontakion (and the drama of
the salvation story) really takes place. Hades, heretically mistaking Jesus for
a mere man in contrast to the orthodox picture of Christ presented earlier
in the kontakion, speaks at the opening of the stanza (6):
‘Quick! Let us be daring,’ he says, ‘for here is the body of a man
which has been carried into the tomb.
Let us imprison with locks the one who has come and deliver him up to decay.’
And straightaway as he said this, he ran quickly and took hold of the body.
But Jesus Christ, as if rousing himself from some sort of sleep,
violently binds him and pushes him down
and he cries aloud to those in Hades:
‘Everyone rise up and trample on Hades.
Come now to me, Adam, with Eve.
Do not be afraid as if you are liable for your judgement-debts,
for I have paid for everything, who am
the life and the resurrection.’
‘Τάχος τολμήσωμεν’, φησίν· ‘σῶμα γὰρ ἀνθρώπου ἐστὶ
τὸ κομισθὲν ἐν τῷ τάφῳ·
τοῖς κλείθροις φυλακίσωμεν τὸν ἐλθόντα καὶ φθορᾷ παραδώσωμεν’·
καὶ εὐθὺς ταῦτα εἰπὼν τρέχει ταχὺ καὶ τῆς σαρκὸς ἐπελάβετο·
Ἰησοῦς δὲ ὁ Χριστὸς ὥσπερ ἐξ ὕπνου τινὸς ἐξανίσταται,
δεσμεῖ δὲ τοῦτον σφοδρῶς καὶ τίθησι κάτω
καὶ κραυγάζει τοῖς ἐν Ἅιδου·
‘Πάντες ἀνάστητε καὶ τὸν Ἅιδην πατήσατε·
δεῦρο Ἀδάμ σὺν Εὔᾳ νῦν πρὸς ἐμέ·
μὴ δειλιάσητε ὡς ὑπεύθυνοι τοῖς ὀφλήμασι·
πάντα γὰρ ἀπέδωκα,
ἡ ζωὴ καὶ ἀνάστασις.’
Death has lost its sting: this is the message of much of the rest of the kon-
takion. Here Romanos makes Hades into a tragicomic villain, beaten into
submission by the hero, Christ. Violence is associated with Christ, whom
Romanos depicts as the leader of an uprising. The language of violence
pervades this kontakion and, as here, is associated with the punishment
of death. The loving God is fierce and vengeful in his treatment of the
enemy of life, Hades, who has kept his creatures prisoner since they left
paradise.
Romanos draws on imagery from everyday life to personalize the narra-
tive for his listeners. Sin is figured by debts, as if monetary compensation
201
payments or fines meted out by an earthly judge. The restoration of human-

ity is a payment of those debts. Christ has paid off everything and Adam
and Eve have no more to fear.
In the following stanza Christ calls for humans to perform the destruc-
tion of Death, again through violence, but also through the ultimate speech
act which performs and creates the new dispensation (7):
‘Come, mortals, strike the face of Hades shamelessly,

and trample on his neck,
enter crying aloud, “Hades and Death have been swallowed up.”
For your sakes I have come, for I am the life and resurrection for all.
So everyone with joy now recite psalms and hymns:
“Where is your victory, O dishonoured Hades?
Where, Death, is your sting?
You lie powerless, Death, you have been condemned to death.
And you too Hades, you who have been skilfully bound.
You who were ruling are enslaved at the moment when you see
that he has arrived,
the Life and Resurrection.” ’
‘Ἀλλὰ ῥαπίσατε, θνητοί, Ἅιδου τὰς ὄψεις ἀτίμως,
καὶ τὸν αὐχένα πατοῦντες
εἰσέλθατε κραυγάζοντες· “κατεπόθη
καὶ ὁ Ἅιδης καὶ ὁ Θάνατος”·
δι’ ὑμᾶς ἦλθον ἐγώ· καὶ γάρ εἰμὶ πάντων ζωὴ καὶ ἀνάστασις·
ἀλλὰ πάντες σὺν χαρᾷ εἴπατε νῦν τοὺς ψαλμοὺς καὶ τὰ ᾄσματα·
“ποῦ ἐστι νῖκος τὸ σόν, ὦ ἄτιμε Ἅιδη;
ποῦ σοῦ, Θάνατε, τὸ κέντρον;
κεῖσθε ἀδύνατοι· Θάνατε, τεθανάτωσαι·
Ἅιδης, καὶ σὺ καταδέδεσαι δεινῶς·
οἱ βασιλεύσαντες ἐδουλώθητε θεασάμενοι
ὅτι παρεγένετο
ἡ ζωὴ καὶ ἀνάστασις.” ’
Christ gives directions to ‘mortals’ as if they were waiting in the wings to

burst upon the stage. He wants them enter, crying out Hades’ death (line 2),
and here ‘crying out’ has connotations of wild beasts baying or screeching,
emphasizing both that the raising of the dead is a frightening and unnatural
thing, and that the death of Death is an event which should cause frenzied
excitement in mortals. Romanos’ Christ himself brings listeners into the
action of hell’s destruction, using the inclusive category ‘mortals’ and calling
for spoken acts (easily performed by Romanos’ listeners) as well as physical
ones. And in a dramatic reversal of the earlier image of Hades swallowing
poison, here Hades and Death are themselves swallowed up.
20
In response to his advent, Christ also wants mortals to sing psalms and
hymns announcing the fulfilment of Hosea’s prophecy (Hosea 13:14). The
latter may also be a reference to the vigil in which the congregation is taking
part, which involved group recitation and singing of psalms and songs. In
this way, the liturgy, and the kontakion in particular, are performances of
Christ’s command which construct a new world for believers. The imagina-
tive expansion of the Gospel story is a key means by which Romanos aims
to create a transformed spiritual reality for his congregation.
I have altered the punctuation of the last few lines, which in both the SC
and the Oxford editions are said by Christ alone. But they make more sense
as a further directive from Christ to ‘mortals’. The continued address to
Hades and the third-person verbs referring to Christ support this reading.
So Christ instructs humans in the singing of the kontakion which is the
performance of their salvation.
These final lines deploy paradox to figure the post-incarnation life: death
is put to death, the enslaving one is enslaved, and so on. After the impos-
sible miracle of God becoming human, all reality, time and history are
altered so that paradox performs the new paradise; it breaks through the
tired conceptual categories of the old dispensation and encourages believ-
ers to imagine new worlds and new possibilities, to imagine themselves as
free from the conceptual relations, social structures and all material negoti-
ations that bind them to the old life and become liberated to participate in
the new creation.
As I have argued, Romanos repeatedly aims to construct a new litur-
gical temporality through his kontakia. There is no sense in this passage
that Christ is only speaking to those who were dead when he harrowed
hell. ‘Mortals’ incorporates all time and the death of death is absolute and
eternal. So although Romanos still awaits the second coming of Christ, he
insists that the harrowing of Hades has forever emptied hell. This is evident
in stanza 16 (1–5), the conclusion of Christ’s long speech:
‘Only so that you may not be ignorant of what you are placed under, O Hades:
not only will you give back
those whom you took and I have raised, whom I take with me as I go,
but, as you know, if any are escorted to you for the rest of time,
they will rise up,
since I will raise them all up together with the sound of a trumpet,
because you have dared to lay hold of the faultless son of the king.’
‘Μόνον ἵνα μὴ ἀγνοῇς ἅπερ ὑπέστης, ὦ Ἅιδη·
οὐ μόνον γὰρ ἀποδώσεις
203
οὓς ἔλαβες καὶ ἤγειρα, οὓς λαμβάνω

μετ’ ἐμοῦ [[ὁ]] ἐξερχόμενος,
ἀλλὰ γὰρ †ὡς εἶδες† ἄν σοι καὶ τοῦ λοιποῦ
παραπεμφθῶσιν, ἐγείρονται,
ἐπειδὴ πάντας ὁμοῦ ἐξαναστήσω φωνῇ τῇ τῆς σάλπιγγος,
ὅτι ἐτόλμησας σὺ υἱὸν βασιλέως ἀναμάρτητον κρατῆσαι.’
Christ details the destruction of Hades’ power and realm. The present
actions of Christ are contrasted (using the same verb, line 2) with the past
actions of Hades. This is the final part of a long defence speech Romanos
gives Christ. In stanzas 8 and 9, Death feels he is under attack and com-
plains that he has been treated unjustly. Romanos has him express his lack
of understanding: Christ is in the form of a man so why does he not obey
human rules? The following stanzas (10–16) are set out as a trial, with Hades
bringing a case against Christ. This hints at the wider cultural resonance
of the dialogues in Romanos’ poetry, a background that includes homilet-
ics, biblical commentary, question and answer literature, rhetorical class-
rooms and, as here, the law courts; it is certainly a cultural phenomenon
worthy of further exploration. Hades speaks in stanza 10 but is not allowed
to cross-examine: the following five strophes are all Christ’s. In stanza 16
(line 6) Romanos says ‘Hades was submerged’ (Ἅιδης ἦν ὑποβρύχιος); he
sank beneath the weight of Christ’s arguments, banished to the waters of
chaos which is now, as in Genesis 1, a realm controlled by divine action. We
do not hear Death speak again. The gatekeepers of Hades flee and Christ
breaks through the gates of hell (16.7–10). All the action of the kontakion
up to this point has been in the dramatic speeches of Christ and Hades, and
now the dead arise and do as Christ had commanded them (stanza 17).
Romanos brings the kontakion to a close with the appearance of the angel
who rolls away the stone at the tomb: all the action has been taking place in
the tomb where Christ was laid. This angel queries Christ’s need of him and
Christ explains (19.3–6):
But now learn my wise scheme. For I have given this as symbol
and sign to mortals, the raising of this stone from the tombs,
that in this hour the gates of Hades are not operating in the tombs as before,
but have been pulled up from the middle.
ἀλλὰ νῦν μάθετε μοῦ τέχνην σοφήν·
τοῦτο γὰρ δέδωκα σύμβολον
καὶ σημεῖον τοῖς θνητοῖς τοῦτου τοῦ λίθου ἐκ τάφων ἡ ἔπαρσις
ὡς ἐν τῇ ὥρᾳ αὐτῇ αἱ πύλαι τοῦ Ἅιδου
ἀνεσπάσθησαν ἐκ [μέ]σου,
204
οὐ χρηματίζουσαι ἐν τοῖς τάφοις ὡς πρότερον·
Dialogue often functions in late antique Christian literature as a means of

explaining aspects of the biblical account of Jesus’ life that could raise doc-
trinal problems.7 We have seen Romanos employ it, for example, to discuss
divine freedom, the nature of Christ’s will, and the two natures of Christ.
Here the problem seems to be the potential criticism that Jesus’ divine power
should have rendered the work of the angel superfluous. Romanos’ solution
is to make the angel a symbol of God’s power and the stone’s removal a sign
that the enclosing gates of hell have been destroyed.8
For Romanos, in this kontakion as elsewhere, Easter is a triumphant
celebration of God’s power, demonstrated on that day by his victory over
death.9 That victory is brought about the second Adam, whose two natures,
divine and human, enable him to die and yet destroy death. We have seen
how Romanos emphasizes those two natures through rhetorical devices
and dramatic characterization. The restoration of Adam is paired with
punishment: violent imagery, focused on Hades, helps Romanos capture
something of God’s anger at his separation from humans and his passionate
desire to restore humans to paradise. God’s entry into the world in the per-
son of Christ is the means of restoration and the beginning of something
fundamentally new: a recreation of the old, broken world. Romanos uses
typology to demonstrate the fulfilment of history in Christ and paradox as
a figure of the changed reality. This change requires something of believing
Christians, and Romanos gives the character of Christ the role of instructor.
Christ speaks directly to listeners, bringing them on the journey and calling
for their participation in death’s destruction. And he himself gives them the
hope of the final resurrection.
That universal resurrection stands at the heart of Romanos’ theology and
his imaginative, vibrant and engaging creation of biblical stories in his kon-
takia, and, at the conclusion of our analysis, we may appropriately leave him
praying this prayer (20.2–5):
See Kecskeméti (1993), 29–68.

7
This explanation looks like the common type of Christian elaboration of a potentially difficult
8
biblical passage, in the manner of explanations for Christ’s agony in the garden: for example,
Origen, Against Celsus II.25 and Didymus, On the Trinity III (PG 39, 908). I have not been able
to find another instance of Romanos’ explanation for the angel moving the stone. Grosdidier de
Matons also notes he cannot find a similar explanation in patristic writings or contemporary
homiletics: Grosdidier de Matons (1967), 599 n. 1.
Although Romanos also uses images from the natural world to emphasize God’s power. See
9
stanza 18.
205
Therefore, as God, Christ, spare those who believe in your cross

and tomb and resurrection. And grant to us forgiveness of our faults.
And count us worthy, whenever the general awakening happens,
without fear to see your face and hear your voice.
διὸ τῶν δοξαζόντων σου
τὸν σταυρὸν καὶ τὴν ταφὴν καὶ ἀνάστασιν
ὡς θεὸς φεῖσαι, Χριστέ· δὸς δὲ ἡμῖν πλημμελημάτων συγχώρησιν
καὶ ἀξίωσον ἡμᾶς, ὅταν ἡ πάνδημος γένηται ἔγερσις,
τὸ πρόσωπόν σου ἰδεῖν μετὰ παρρησίας
καὶ ἀκοῦσαι τῆς φωνῆς σου.
206
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Index of Biblical Passages
Genesis 2 Kings
1:1–5: 105 2:11–12: 127
1:29: 106 2:13: 127
2:6: 106 6:5–7: 74–75
2:7: 114
2:10–14: 106 1 Chronicles
2:16: 106 11:17–19: 116
2:25: 85
3:17–19: 106 Psalms
3:21: 85 50[51]:5: 175
4:1–8: 47 75:3: 36
6:11–8:19: 77 77[78]:65: 136
22:1–14: 46, 74, 173 140:3–4: 29
25:29–34: 138
27:18–36: 138 Song of Songs
27:41–5: 138 4:12: 95
28:13–15: 138
30:20: 105 Isaiah
37:28: 124 9:1–2: 105
49:13: 105 9:5: 134
Exodus Ezekiel
2:3: 124 44:1–3: 82
3:2-6: 128, 129, 130
4:13–14: 179 Daniel
13:21: 36–37 2:44–5: 149
14:26-9: 41, 128 3:19–30: 116, 121
15:22–5: 74 3:49–50: 128
16: 141
16:4: 128 Hosea
17:1–7: 40, 95 13:14: 202
32:1–10: 141
33:20: 179 Jonah
33:23: 179 1:17: 46, 126
2:2: 127
Numbers 2:10: 46, 126
17:8: 128, 131 5.4–5: 199
Deuteronomy Micah
21:23: 80 5:2: 134
Judges Nahum
6:36–8: 128, 131 2:1: 136
2 Samuel Zephaniah
230 23:13–17: 95, 116 3:8, 14–20: 136
231
Index of Biblical Passages 231
Zechariah 23:40–3: 30
12:10, 13:1: 143 23.45: 24
24:51: 127
Matthew
2:1–12: 134 John
2:1–6: 134 1:1: 37
2:13–15: 124 2:1–11: 164
3:13-15: 178 20:29: 176
3:14-15: 11 3:14: 125
3:16–17: 114 4:11–14: 107, 168
4:13–16: 106 4:5–6: 107
4:19: 111 5:9b–18: 29
5:15: 10:152 8:44–5: 139
6:19–20: 82 10: 8–10: 82, 83
11:13: 148 10:11–17: 3
12:9–14: 32 11:1–44: 30, 189
12:38–41: 46 18.14: 28
12:40: 126 19:33–4: 166
16:18: 37
18:12: 3 Romans
25:1–13: 165 5:12–21: 55
26:41: 177 5:15: 55
27:45, 51: 21 5:18: 55
27:51: 24 5:21: 55
27:14: 28 6:4: 102
28:11–15: 89 6:5, 9–11: 55
7:5–6: 102
Mark 9:6–13: 138
1:10–11: 114 12:16: 112
2:23–3:1–5: 29
3:1–6: 32 1 Corinthians
5:30–4: 172 1:22–5: 25
15.5: 28 10:4: 24, 37
15:34: 175 15:22: 55
15:38: 24 15:45: 55
15:47: 55
Luke
1:50, 55: 50 2 Corinthians
6:1–10: 29 2:14–16a: 186
6:5: 29 4:11: 25
6:6–11: 32 5:17: 102, 103
7:32–8: 168 5:19: 102
7:36–50: 171
15:11–32: 16, 166 Galatians
15:23: 166 3:13: 80
19:40: 89 3:27: 86
23
General Index
Aaron, biblical priest: 63, 128, 179 Athanasius: 54, 56, 61, 100

rod of: 128, 130, 131 On the Incarnation of the Word: 56–7
Abel, biblical figure: 42, 45, 47, 184–5 Three Orations against the Arians: 56
Abraham, biblical patriarch: 50, 103, 126, 153, audience see congregation/audience
173–4; see kontakia, XLI. On Abraham
and Isaac Balaam, biblical figure: 63
acrostics: 10, 13, 14, 43 baptism: 5, 13, 41, 74, 91, 102, 108, 127, 143,
Adam, biblical patriarch: 33–5, 37, 40, 132, 160, 197
135–6, 139, 166 of Christ: 41, 84, 87, 106, 108, 114, 150, 159,
blindness of: 88, 91, 152–3 178–9; see also kontakia, V. On the
Christ, comparison to: 55–80, 83–4; see also Baptism of Christ
Jesus Christ, as second Adam and second coming, liturgy of: 150, 159, 160
clothing and nakedness: 84–7 of sinful woman: 167–8
first creation: 106 Basil of Caesarea: 104
gluttony of: 133 Basil of Seleucia: 170–1
hunger: 96, 133 On Lazarus: 170–1, 189, 192
ill health of: 97–9, 101 On the Man Possessed: 13
as iron: 76 Belial see under Satan/the devil
as lost coin: 196 Benjamin, biblical figure: 121
restoration to paradise: 60 Berytus (Beirut): 7–9
resurrection, after: 132, 198, 200–1, 204 Bethlehem: 88, 95, 116, 152
senses: 91–4, 120 as metaphor for birth of incarnate God: 82
thirst: 95 Blachernae: 15
Akathistos hymn: 104 blindness see under metaphor
alliteration: 2, 3, 31, 36, 45, 110, 115, 117, 119, Brock, Sebastian: 84
129, 168, 185
anaphora: 29, 32 Caiaphas: 19, 28–9, 42, 45
Anastasios, hymnographer: 13 Cain, biblical figure: 42, 45, 47
anti-Judaism: 48–51, 136–45; see also under Cappadocians: 22, 54, 100
creation, second; kontakia, XX. On the Chalcedon, Council of (451): 22, 24
Passion of Christ characterization (ethopoeia): 5, 32–3, 53
antistrophe: 31, 32 apostrophe, link to: 188
Aphthonius: 39 in earlier homiletics: 170–1
Apollinarius: 57 and second coming: 147, 169, 172–9, 180,
apostrophe (direct address): 22, 25–7, 53 194
and second coming: 147, 188–93, 194 self-characterization of Romanos: 174–8,
early and contemporary uses: 188–90 192, 194
in Romanos: 190–3 Cherubikon (Cherubic hymn): 158
architecture see second coming, art and Christ see Jesus Christ
architecture Chrysostom, John: 144, 148, 157, 158, 161
Arianism: 30 Homilia de beato Philogono 6: 148
art/artists see under second coming, art and Homilia in epistolam primam ad Corinthios:
architecture 154–5
asmatike akolouthia: 15, 16 Homilia in Ioannem: 158
assonance: 2, 31, 32, 45, 110, 115, 119, 129 In epistulam ad Hebraeos: 157
232
23
General Index 233
On the Judaizing Christians: 188–189 in Romanos: 181–8

Sur le sacerdoce III: 158 Elijah, biblical prophet: 127–8, 156
Classe, Sant’Apollinare: 156 Elisha, biblical prophet: 75–6
clothing see under metaphor Emesa (Homs): 7–8
comparisons: 79–80; see also Adam, biblical Ephraem Graecus: 13
patriarch, Christ, comparison to; Ephrem the Syrian: 12–13, 49, 75, 85,
typology; see also under Jesus Christ 109–10, 162
congregation/audience: 6–7, 10, 11, 16–17, 31, Hymn on Faith 32: 62
32, 50, 51–5, 191–2, 194, 195 Hymn on Paradise IV: 57
liturgical participation: 35, 40–2, on Christ as second Adam: 34, 54,
154–179, 190 56, 62–3
liturgical time: 150 on Jews: 144
refrain, singing of: 11 on Mary as second Eve: 57–8
and second coming: 147 on new covenant: 103
self-characterization of: 178–9 On the Paradox of Mary’s Birthgiving:
Constantinople: 6, 7–8, 17, 52, 184–5 109–10
Hagia Sophia: 39, 154, 157, 162 On the Sinful Woman: 13, 171
Jews in: 145 The Paradoxes of the Incarnation:
liturgical cycle: 17–18 103–4, 109
liturgical time: 147 Esau, biblical figure: 137–8
plague: 21 eschaton/eschatology see second coming
correction and perfection: 64–79, 81, 87, 88, ethopoeia see characterization
91, 94, 96–7, 98–9, 100–1, 199 eucharist: 4, 15–16, 40–1, 97, 147, 148, 158,
in early theology: 55–8 159–60, 162, 165–7, 168–9
see also under Jesus Christ, as second Adam; and second coming: 147, 156–7, 158,
kontakia, On the Passion of Christ 159–60, 162, 165–7, 168–9
Cosmas Indicopleustes, Christian Topography: types of: 156–7
148–9 Euclid: 90
creation, second: 102–9 Eutychius, patriarch of Constantinople: 159
anti-Judaism: 107, 118–19, 125, Eve, biblical matriarch: 63, 66, 79
136–45, 146 clothing and nakedness: 84–7
paradox: 109–21, 130, 146 first creation: 106
paradox and typology: 121–3 original sin: 55–80, 132
prophecy: 109, 133, 146 resurrection, after: 200–1
typology: 123–33, 146 senses: 91–3, 120
cross virginity of: 69
Christ addresses: 83 see also Mary, Virgin, as new Eve
as type for tree of Eden: 64, 72–9
Cyril of Alexandria: 70, 103, 114 financial imagery: 5, 44, 200–1
Commentary on John: 103 fish/fishing see under Jesus Christ; metaphor
Cyril of Jerusalem: 160–1 Frank, Georgia: 90
Daniel, biblical prophet: 116, 149, 187 Gospel of Nicodemus: 135–6

David, biblical king: 63, 95, 116 Gregory Nazianus: 56, 61, 69–70
description, vivid see ekphrasis (vivid On the Love of the Poor: 180–1, 185
description) Theological Orations: 57
devil see under Satan/the devil Gregory of Nyssa: 22, 24, 56, 57
dialogue: 11, 13, 178–9, 204; see also under Life of Moses: 129
kontakia, On the Passion of Christ Grosdidier de Matons, José: 14
doctoring and illness see under metaphor
Hades (death): 25, 37, 60, 64–5, 66, 72–3,
Egypt: 150–1 74–7, 89–90, 98, 117, 119, 124, 126–7, 135,
ekphrasis (vivid description): 5, 38–42, 49 186, 187, 191–2, 198–9, 200–4
apostrophe, link to: 188 hell, harrowing of: 99, 135, 136, 196,
and second coming: 147, 180–8, 194 199–204
before Romanos: 180–1, 185 Herod, biblical king: 124, 134–5, 183
234
234 General Index
homiletics/homilies (general): 5–6, 9, as king: 5

13, 17, 53 as lamb: 3
Syriac genres: 12 leper, healing of: 181–2
Homs see Emesa as light/Sun: 88, 106, 108, 152–3, 196–9
Hosea, biblical prophet: 202 and Martha of Bethany: 189–90
hunger see under metaphor metaphor: 54; see also metaphors,
blindness
Imitatio Christi see under Jesus Christ, as perfume: 186–7
imitation of; second coming, physicality of: 4
participation in Christ and Pontius Pilate: 19, 28–9, 37, 38, 42, 44,
imperial imagery: 5 49, 141
incarnation as second Adam: 1, 6, 34, 54–101, 142,
paradox of: 109–17, 120, 121; see also 196–7, 198–9, 204
Ephrem the Syrian, On the Paradox of second coming: 7, 19; see also second
Mary’s Birthgiving, and The Paradoxes coming (eschatology; eschaton)
of the Incarnation; Mary, Virgin, as serpent of bronze: 125
paradox of virgin birth as shepherd: 3
types for: 128–31 suffering of: 117–18
Irenaeus of Lyons: 54, 61, 100, 102–3 tomb, empty: 167, 192
Against Heresies: 55–79 typology: 54, 62–78, 124–8, 140
Isaac, biblical patriarch: 45–6, 75, 126, 127, Elijah, as type for: 127–8
173; see kontakia, XLI. On Abraham Isaac, as type for: 126, 127
and Isaac Jonah, as type for: 126–7
Isaiah, biblical prophet: 135 Joseph, as type for: 124–5
isosyllabism: 12, 13 Moses, as type for: 124, 140
woman who lost coin, as type of:
Jacob, biblical patriarch: 63, 105, 120, 195–7
137–8, 153 as water: 95, 106, 107–8, 116
Jacob of Serug: 12 and writing: 96–7, 100–1
Jerusalem see also kontakia, esp. On the Passion
Church of Holy Sepulchre: 155–6 of Christ
see also kontakia, XVI. On the Entry into Jews: 183, 191
Jerusalem anti-Judaism see under anti-Judaism;
Jerusalem lectionaries: 17–18 creation, second; kontakia, XX. On the
Jesus Christ Passion of Christ
arma Christi: 24 exclusion from new paradise: 142–3
baptism of: 41, 84, 87, 106, 108, 114, 150, hermeneutic Jew: 143
159, 178–9; see also kontakia, V. On the as threat to Christians: 143–5
Baptism of Christ John Chrysostom see Chrysostom, John
as bridegroom: 165 John the Baptist, saint: 149, 178–9
and Caiaphas: 19, 28–29, 42, 45 Jonah, biblical prophet: 46–7, 126–7, 199
Cana: 150–151, 164; see also kontakia, VII. Joseph, biblical patriarch: 103, 112, 120–1,
On the Marriage at Cana 124–5, 129–30, 131–3; see also
as clay: 196, 197 kontakia, XLIII. On Joseph I,
clothing: 84–5 and XLIV. On Joseph II
comparison: 54, 55–80, 83–4 Joshua, biblical figure: 139
correction and perfection: 55–62, 64–79 Judah, brother of Joseph: 125
descent into hell (harrowing of hell): 99, Judas, apostle: 192; see also kontakia, XVII.
135, 136, 196, 199–204 On Judas
as doctor/healer: 5, 97–9, 101, 199 Justinian, Byzantine emperor: 21, 86
as door: 81–3, 100–101 Against the Monophysites: 113
as fatted calf: 166–7 and Jews: 145
as fish: 126–7 and liturgical festivals: 156
as fisherman: 111
free will of: 22–3 kata stichon hymns: 13
imitation of: 4, 7, 169–79 kontakia
235
General Index 235
I. On the Nativity I: 8, 67–8, 69, 81–3, 95, narrative: 27–31

110–11, 114, 116 oxymorons: 36, 37
refrain: 82 paradox: 24–5, 29, 35–8, 53
II. On the Nativity II: 55–80, 91–4, 113, Pontius Pilate: 19, 28–9, 37, 38, 42, 44, 49
120, 129, 152 prophecy: 45–8, 53
III. On the Massacre of the Innocents: refrain: 33–5, 53
120–1, 124, 134–5, 142, 182–5 repetition: 29, 31–2, 36, 43, 45
IV. On the Presentation in the Temple: 69, Sabbath: 19–30, 31–3
70–1, 110, 115–16, 191 structure: 42–3
V. On the Baptism of Christ: 61, 84, 85–6, typology: 45–8, 53
87, 114, 150, 178–9 word play: 44–5
VI. On the Epiphany: 1–2, 55–79, 84, 85, XXI. On the Crucifixion: 97–8, 140–2
91, 105–7, 108, 152–4, 163–4, refrain: 141
174–5 XXII. On the Victory of the Cross: 11, 64–5,
VII. On the Marriage at Cana: 71, 114, 66, 72, 73, 74–7, 89
150–1, 164–5, 190–1 XXIII. On the Adoration of the Cross: 60, 66,
VIII. On the Healing of the Leper: 181–2 73–4, 77–8, 80, 83–4, 96
IX. On the Samaritan Woman: 95, 107–108 XXIV. On the Resurrection I: 117
X. On the Sinful Woman: 12–13, 26–7, XXV. On the Resurrection II: 89–90,
167–8, 171, 196 119–20, 135–6, 151, 174, 191–2
refrain: 17 refrain: 136
XI. On the Man Possessed with Devils: 13, XXVI. On the Resurrection III: 60, 66–7
14–15, 168–9, 199 XXVII. On the Resurrection IV: 73–4,
XII. On the Haemorrhaging Woman: 195–205
172–3, 196 XXVIII. On the Resurrection V: 59, 65,
XIII. On the Multiplication of the Loaves: 72–3, 117–18, 139
161–2 refrain: 197, 199
XIV. On the Raising of Lazarus I: 186–7 XXIX. On the Resurrection VI: 167, 175–7
XV. On the Raising of Lazarus II: 193 XXX. On Doubting Thomas: 165–6,
XVI. On the Entry into Jerusalem: 3, 47–8, 176–7
59–60, 118, 139–40 XXXI. On the Mission of the Apostles: 111
XVII. On Judas: 124–5, 192–3 XXXIV. On the Second Coming: 142–3
XVIII. On Peter’s Denial: 96–7 XXXVI. On the Annunciation I: 41, 69,
XIX. On Mary at the Cross: 4, 88, 98–9, 112–13, 114–15, 129–30
125, 174 refrain: 114–15
XX. On the Passion of Christ: 6 XXXVII. On the Annunciation II: 4, 43, 65,
acrostic: 43 68–9, 70, 80, 116, 122–3, 130
alliteration: 31, 45 refrain: 69
anti-Judaism: 19, 21, 29–30, 32–3, 36, XXXVIII. On the Beheading of John the
47, 48–51 Baptist: 96
antistrophe: 31 XL. On Noah: 133
assonance: 45 XLI. On Abraham and Isaac: 75, 173–4, 177
audience (congregation): 30, 32, 33, 35, XLII. On Jacob and Esau: 58–9, 137–8
40, 50, 51–2, 53 XLIII. On Joseph I: 125
baptism: 41 XLIV. On Joseph II: 132–3
Caiaphas: 19, 28–9, 42, 45 XLV. On Elijah: 127–8
characterization (ethopoeia): 32–3, 53 XLVI. On the Three Children: 121–2, 187
correction and perfection: 19, 27, 34 refrain: 122
dialogue: 31–2, 53 XLIX. On the Prodigal Son: 15–16, 166–7
direct address: 25–7 LI. On Fasting: 59, 133
dramatic beginning: 20–5 LIII. On Baptism: 132, 175
ekphrasis: 38–42, 49 LIV. On Earthquakes and Fire: 107, 151,
and eschaton: 19, 20, 30, 52, 53 162–3
eucharist: 40–1 LVI. A Prayer: 107, 175
final strophe: 51–3 LIX. On All Martyrs: 162
free will of Christ: 22–3 Kosmas, hymnographer: 13
236
236 General Index
Krueger, D.: 97 clothing and nakedness: 81, 84–8, 99,

Kyriakos, hymnographer: 13 100–1
day, everlasting: 105–6
Lash, Ephrem: 137 doctoring and illness: 81, 97–9, 101; see also
Lazarus, biblical figure: 171, 186–7, 189, 193; Jesus Christ, as doctor/healer
see also kontakia, XIV. On the Raising fatted calf, as Christ: 166–7
of Lazarus I, and XV. On the Raising of fishing: 111
Lazarus II night, perpetual: 105–6
Leah, biblical figure: 105 paradise, reopening of: 81–4, 99, 100–1
legal terminology: 4, 97 senses: 81, 91–4, 99, 100–1, 152
Leontius of Constantinople: 30 thirst and hunger: 81, 95–6, 99, 100, 165
A Homily on the Transfiguration of our Lord writing: 81, 96–7, 100–1
Jesus Christ: 23 Methodius, Parthenion: 13
On Palm Sunday: 189–90 Micah, biblical prophet: 63
Life of Mary of Egypt: 17 Moses, biblical patriarch: 40, 74, 77, 103, 139,
liturgical time: 147–52, 202 156, 179
liturgy: 14–18; see eucharist; see under blindness of: 153
second coming bronze snake: 125
Lucretius: 90 burning bush: 128, 129–30
Christ, as type for: 124, 140
Maas, Paul: 137 laws of: 141
MacCormack, Sabine: 149
madrasha: 11–12 Nahum, biblical prophet: 136
Malalas: 21, 145 nakedness see under metaphor
Martha of Bethany, biblical figure: 189–90 Neoplatonism: 13
Mary, Virgin: 55, 65, 190–1, 196–7 Nestorius, bishop of Constantinople: 70
as Aaron’s rod: 128, 130, 131 Nicolaus the Sophist: 39
annunciation: 112–13, see also kontakia, night vigil see under vigil
XXXVI. On the Annunciation I; Noah, biblical patriarch: 77, 133
XXXVII. On the Annunciation II
as burning bush: 63, 128–30 Odes of Solomon: 162
Christotokos: 70 optimism: 1, 4, 7, 27
as door: 81–2 orthos: 15
as fleece, bedewed: 128, 131
as furnace, bedewed: 128 pannychis: 15
as intercessor: 67–8 Paphnutius, monk: 90
as muse of Romanos: 9 paradise
as new Eve: 9, 54, 55, 64, 67–72, 78, 82, reopening of see under metaphor
100, 116 types for: 131–3
paradox of virgin birth: 109–11, 114–16, paradox: 24–5, 29, 35–8, 202, 204
120, 121, 128–31, 132 of Christ’s suffering: 117–18
and senses: 91–4 of resurrection: 119–20
as Theotokos: 68, 69–71, 83, 114, 130, 150 of virgin birth/incarnation 109–17, 120,
virginity of: 69, 70, 82, 109–11, 114–16, 129, 121, 128–31, 132; see also Ephrem
131, 197 the Syrian, On the Paradox of Mary’s
see also kontakia, XIX. On Mary at Birthgiving, and The Paradoxes of the
the Cross Incarnation; kontakia, On the Passion
Mary Magdalene: 167 of Christ
Mary of Egypt: 17 see also under creation, second
medical imagery: 5; see also Jesus Christ, as paramone: 15
doctor/healer; metaphor, doctoring pathos: 4
and illness Paul, saint: 25, 54, 55–80, 84, 86, 100, 102, 103,
memra: 11–13 112–13, 138, 145
metaphor: 80–99, 116, 122–3 on baptism: 160
blindness: 81, 85, 88–91, 99, 100–1, Paul the Silentiary: 157
152–3 Peter, saint: 37
237
General Index 237
physical sensations: 4; see also metaphor, liturgical festivals: 156

senses; metaphor, thirst and hunger liturgical participation: 154–61
Pontius Pilate: 19, 28–9, 37, 38, 42, 44, 141 liturgical time: 147–52
Potiphar, biblical figure: 132 liturgy: 157–61, 194
Proclus of Constantinople: 63–4, 84 baptism: 150, 159, 160
Homily 1: 63 eucharist: 147, 156–7, 158, 159–60, 162,
Homily 2: 63–4 165–7, 168–9
Homily 27: 5 fragrance: 160–1, 168
Procopius of Caesarea: 145 Great Entrance: 167
on Hagia Sophia: 39, 154 Little Entrance: 159, 164, 167
Secret History: 21 Sanctus: 163–4
Wars: 21 participation in Christ
prophecy see under creation, second; kontakia, through Gospels and Imitatio Christi:
On the Passion of Christ 169–79
prosopopoeia: 170 through liturgy: 161–9
Ps-Chrysostom: 196 participatory theology: 152–4
Ps-Dionysius the Areopagite, Ecclesiastical see also under apostrophe; characterization;
Hierarchy: 159 ekphrasis
Pythagorians: 90 senses: 185–6
perfume, smell of: 160–1, 168, 186–8
Rachel, biblical figure: 120–1, 138, 183–4 see also under metaphor
Ravenna, San Vitale: 156 Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego: 121–2,
Rebecca, biblical figure: 137 187–188
refrain: 14, 17, 69, 82, 114–15, 136, 141, 197, Simeon (Symeon), biblical figure: 71, 150, 191
199 sogitha: 11–12
choir singing: 11, 33 Solomon, biblical figure: 63
congregation singing: 11, 33, 122, 172, 178, Sophonias/Zephaniah, biblical prophet: 136
179, 194 Symeon, biblical figure see Simeon (Symeon),
lack of, in preaching: 6 biblical figure
madrasha: 12 Symeon the Stylite: 15
On the Passion of Christ: 33–5, 53 Synaxaria: 7
repetition: 2, 29, 31–2, 36, 43, 45, 115, 172 syncrisis: 79
rhetorical questions: 28, 29, 38, 115, 120, synecdoche: 32
179, 189
rhyme: 115, 119 Theodore of Mopsuestia: 148, 155, 159
Romanos the Melodist: 9, 14 thirst see under metaphor
bilingualism of: 8–9, 10 typikon: 15
biography: 7–9 typology/types: 104, 204
dissemination of kontakia: 16–17 see also under creation, second; cross; eucharist;
history of kontakia: 11–14 incarnation; Jesus Christ; Jews; kontakia,
manuscripts of kontakia: 17 On the Passion of Christ; paradise; Mary,
terminology: 9 Virgin, as new Eve; Moses
themes of kontakia: 10–11
Ruth, biblical figure: 63 vigil: 6, 14–16, 147, 168–9, 199, 202
vocabulary: 2, 97, 119
Sarah, biblical figure: 173–4
Satan/the devil: 64–5, 66, 72–3, 75–7, 80, 85, water imagery: 4–5, 40–2, 74–5, 121–2, 128; see
89, 90, 98, 132, 139–42, 169 also baptism; Jesus Christ, as water
Schork, R.J.: 137 Webb, Ruth: 39
second coming (eschatology; eschaton): 19, 20, writing see under metaphor
30, 52, 53, 131, 133, 143, 146, 147, 193–4
art and architecture: 154–7, 158, 163, 194 Zacharias Scholasticus: 8
artists: 157 Life of Severus: 8
church decoration: 156–7 Zachary, biblical prophet: 63, 136
loca sancta: 155–6 Zebulun, biblical figure: 105–6
238

The Kontakia, Theology and Poetry in Early Byzantium

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What is the book about?

What is the book about?

What are some of the main theological themes discussed in the book?

What are some of the main theological themes discussed in the book?

i

Theology and Poetry in Early Byzantium

Theology and Poetry in Early Byzantium examines the kontakia and

Sarah Gador-​W hyte is a Research Fellow of the Australian

Theology and Poetry in Early

University Printing House, Cambridge CB2 8BS, United Kingdom

Cambridge University Press is part of the University of Cambridge.

It furthers the University’s mission by disseminating knowledge in the pursuit of

This publication is in copyright. Subject to statutory exception

Printed in the United Kingdom by Clays, St Ives plc

ISBN 978-​1-​107-​14013-​4 Hardback

1 On the Passion of Christ [19]

2 The Second Adam: A Typology of Salvation [54]

3 The Second Creation: A New Reality for Christians [102]

4 The Second Coming: A Theology of Time and Liturgy [147]

On the Resurrection IV: Conclusions and Beyond [195]

Select Bibliography [206]

This book examines Romanos the Melodist’s vibrant theological poetry,

Cambridge University Press for their critical analysis of my manuscript at

human darkness. Romanos’ use of language is playful and creative, vibrant

Romanos contrasts Adam and Christ through images of wealth (made

my own take on Romanos’ characterization of Mary, see Gador-​Whyte (2013a), 77–​92. On

broader reach than other forms of theological composition, whether poetry

renewed perfection, the subject of Chapter 3, begins a new reality, a sec-

reign of Anastasius.16 In Constantinople he was attached to the Church of

Yet Romanos’ putative conversion is mere conjecture. Most likely he was

The word kontakion is of ninth-​century origin and probably comes from

25 On Mary in Romanos, see Arentzen (2013), 125–​32, (2014).

The History of the Kontakion 11

although some kontakia develop stories not found in the Bible.36 He

The History of the Kontakion

on these different traditions but, even supposing other kontakion writers

The History of the Kontakion 13

The Setting of the Kontakion

The Setting of the Kontakion 15

Ὁ λαὸς ὁ πιστὸς ἐν ἀγάπῃ Χριστοῦ

The successive hortatory subjunctives in this passage (‘let us hurry’, ‘let us

66 Koder (2005), 36–​7, Krueger (2014), 65.

1 On the Passion of Christ

In this chapter I analyse a single kontakion, On the Passion of Christ,

20 On the Passion of Christ

4 Compare Mark 15:33 and Luke 23:44–​5.

22 On the Passion of Christ

Ἔκστηθι φρίττων, ⟨ὦ⟩ οὐρανέ, δῦνον εἰς χάος, ὦ γῆ,

On narrative apostrophe in Romanos, see Barkhuizen (1986a).

of his true humanity.13 Their opponents, they believed, placed either

Leontius’ emphatic rhetorical repetition strongly underlines that Jesus,

24 On the Passion of Christ

by the Council of Chalcedon and by earlier theologians such as Gregory

Direct Address and the Self 25

Direct Address and the Self

But before Romanos moves on to his imaginative narration and exploration

26 On the Passion of Christ

τῶν παθῶν καταφρονήσω· σῷ θανάτῳ ἀνέζησα·

28 On the Passion of Christ

Romanos’ hymn is a combination of the different accounts. For instance,

Sarah Gador-W hyte is a Research Fellow of the Australian

ISBN 978-1-107-14013-4 Hardback

my own take on Romanos’ characterization of Mary, see Gador-Whyte (2013a), 77–92. On

The word kontakion is of ninth-century origin and probably comes from

25 On Mary in Romanos, see Arentzen (2013), 125–32, (2014).

66 Koder (2005), 36–7, Krueger (2014), 65.

4 Compare Mark 15:33 and Luke 23:44–5.

75 See MacCormack (1982), 287–309.

83 The anti-Judaic rhetoric of Romanos’ kontakia is treated in more detail in Chapter 3 below.