Introduction to Roman Educational Ideals and Their Influence on Early Christianity

Rome’s transition from a modest republic to a far-reaching empire entailed profound shifts in civic life, governance, and the cultural priorities of its citizens. From the city’s legendary founding in 753 B.C.E. through the centuries that followed, Roman authorities and private benefactors developed institutions of learning, rhetorical training, and bureaucratic administration that required increasing levels of literacy for practical and social advancement. Although many historians have long maintained that only a small percentage of the population could read or write, the evidence from archaeological discoveries, papyrus documents, inscriptions, and social customs indicates that educational practices were more extensive than once thought. In parallel, early Christianity arose in a religiously diverse empire that valued various degrees of literacy, for reading, copying, and interpreting Scripture soon became integral within Christian communities (Colossians 4:16). As believers worshiped Jehovah, the Hebrew God whose name was often rendered in Greek texts but always revered among Jews and Christians, they found themselves actively engaging with sacred writings (Psalm 119:97), collecting apostolic letters, and benefiting from the influx of Jewish and Greco-Roman learning.

At the heart of the discussion is whether widespread reliance on administrative, commercial, and religious texts might have generated higher levels of functional and proficient literacy. Ancient Rome in the first three centuries of Christianity was a multicultural empire, encompassing Jews, Greeks, Egyptians, Syrians, and various other peoples. Cities like Rome, Alexandria, and Antioch had large populations that depended on some skill in reading documents, decoding official edicts, and keeping accounts. Even in smaller provincial towns—Nazareth, Caesarea Philippi, or others—there was some benefit in grasping rudimentary letters for commerce, household management, or worship. The earliest Christians, shaped by Jewish traditions that prized knowledge of Scripture (Deuteronomy 6:8-9), spread their faith through reading aloud the Hebrew Scriptures, the Septuagint (a Greek translation of the Old Testament), and their own apostolic writings. Passages such as Acts 15:23-29 and 2 Peter 3:15-16 suggest the normalcy of letter production and reception within Christian congregations. While that does not imply universal competence in writing long documents, it shows there existed a network of believers capable of preserving and disseminating complex texts.

The question inevitably arises: how fully did the structures of Roman education, shaped by the interplay of social class and cultural demands, enable more people to become literate than the standard figure of 10–20 percent suggests? Did the everyday routines of commerce, government regulation, military service, religious practice, and cultural customs in major urban centers push literacy beyond minimal thresholds? These considerations illuminate the broader tapestry—avoiding that specific term, it remains crucial to see the intricate design—of Roman life that influenced early Christian writings and the faithful’s use of Scripture. By examining the gradations of literacy, the role of educational institutions, the place of inscriptions and graffiti, and the impetus for reading religious texts, one can judge whether the development of early Christian communities relied on a more robust foundation of literacy than some scholars have acknowledged.

The Diverse Spectrum of Literacy in the Roman Empire

Discussions of literacy in ancient Rome must navigate how the concept of “literate” is understood. Modern definitions often focus on an ability to read and write at a certain standardized level, but in antiquity, there were many degrees. In official documents and personal letters uncovered across the empire, from Egypt’s deserts to the streets of Pompeii, one sees a varied range of competencies. Some individuals could write their own name and read brief notices, yet they could not compose lengthy passages. Others reached a functional literacy that let them handle commercial records and simpler administrative tasks. Still others were trained in rhetorical composition and well versed in classical literature.

Linguistic proficiency, too, reflected this gradual scale. A person living in Rome might be fully literate in Latin, have fundamental Greek reading comprehension, and know virtually no Hebrew. A Jewish Christian in Palestine might be fluent in reading Hebrew and somewhat conversant in Aramaic or Greek. In a place like Alexandria, a Christian with Egyptian heritage might read Greek Scripture competently but prefer a Coptic translation in daily devotion. The key point is that these circumstances refute overly sweeping generalizations. The empire’s cultural and administrative demands nudged a portion of the population to develop reading and writing capabilities that allowed them to function in basic commerce, legal affairs, and religious activities (John 19:19-20). The interplay of these factors suggests that literacy could have been more widespread than a single, low percentage can capture.

When Dr. Bart D. Ehrman cites William Harris’s study to argue that literacy rates were rarely higher than 10–15 percent, he highlights a crucial question: does an aggregate statistic imply that individuals such as Jesus, the apostles, or ordinary Christians in Antioch were among the presumed illiterate? This becomes precarious. One cannot deduce that because 80–90 percent of the empire was illiterate, any specific teacher, traveling missionary, or craftsman was illiterate. Early Christianity historian Larry Hurtado observes that older generalizations about extremely low literacy fail to acknowledge the complexity of evidence from papyri, inscriptions, and textual remains. When one considers that early Christian groups were often shaped by Jewish traditions that cherished reading the Law (Ezra 7:10), the impetus for basic literacy grows clearer.

Archaeological finds from Roman provinces (particularly in Egypt) reveal that vast numbers of letters, contracts, and official documents were written by ordinary people. In addition, graffiti discovered on walls in Pompeii, Herculaneum, or even in Jerusalem confirm that many people outside the narrow scholarly elite felt comfortable leaving messages in writing. These observations do not deny a significant portion of the population had rudimentary or fragmentary literacy at best; they do, however, challenge sweeping statements that almost no one could read. Even among the common laborers, some evidently knew how to form basic letters or keep a short account of expenditures. As each generation progressed, particularly within the Christian congregations that circulated apostolic letters (Colossians 4:16), the impetus to learn at least fundamental reading skills increased. If a local house congregation read the epistle to the Romans publicly, those with a measure of competence might wish to follow along personally. This reality may explain why functional literacy in certain Christian enclaves could outstrip that in strictly pagan communities that had less need for texts of a scriptural nature.

Jewish Education and Its Influence on Christian Literacy

Judaism’s profound emphasis on reading and interpreting sacred Scripture cannot be overstated. Deuteronomy 6:8-9 instructs Israel to bind divine commands “as a sign on your hand” and to write them on the doorposts, implying that ordinary Israelites were expected to internalize Jehovah’s laws. Josephus, the first-century Jewish historian (37–100 C.E.), wrote that Jews considered the teaching of their children in God’s Law a sacred duty, that from their infancy “they may be nourished up in the laws” and never have an excuse to claim ignorance. The historian Philo, contemporary to the apostle Paul, commented that Jewish parents in Alexandria ensured children were steeped in the commandments as a central part of family life.

This tradition shaped the earliest Christian believers, who were predominantly Jewish until after 36 C.E. (Acts 10:1-48). Jesus himself participated in synagogue gatherings where Scripture was read aloud, and Luke 2:41-47 portrays him, at age 12, conversing with temple teachers in Jerusalem, revealing an extraordinary depth of scriptural insight. Further, Luke 4:16-20 describes Jesus standing to read from the Isaiah scroll and then making an application to himself—his ability to read that text in the synagogue underscores a level of competence in Hebrew. Such episodes, while depicting a singularly gifted Teacher, also reflect the broader cultural norm that Jewish boys, especially those in devout families, learned basic reading of the Scriptures from an early age.

In a historical sense, the Jewish approach to education stressed that even those not trained as scribes or rabbis should still know the fundamentals of the Law. Scribes were specialized experts (Mark 2:6), able to debate nuanced points of interpretation, but this does not mean ordinary Jewish worshippers were illiterate. Peter and John, labeled “uneducated and untrained” men in Acts 4:13, might simply have lacked formal rabbinic schooling, not the ability to read or write. As time passed, these same men—by then leaders in the Christian congregation—wrote or dictated epistles that circulated among believers, underscoring that they had grown in their capacity to handle written communication.

Roman Education: Structure, Philosophy, and Social Class

While the Hebrew heritage primed many for literacy, the Roman world offered frameworks of education that, at times, expanded basic reading and writing into the realm of rhetoric and advanced knowledge. In major cities, families of means could send children to private tutors or rhetorical schools. Under the patronage system, wealthy aristocrats sponsored teachers and philosophers who taught oratory, grammar, dialectic, and a range of subjects for future civic or imperial service.

Romans recognized the utility of literacy for commercial transactions, legal documents, and the management of estates. A well-documented bureaucracy accompanied the empire’s administrative expansion. Soldiers and civil servants were expected to read official orders and complete basic reports. Landowners needed to draw up contracts for tenant farmers, while tradespeople had to record inventories. All of this demanded some measure of reading and writing, even if minimal.

Many historians once assumed these skills were limited to a tiny elite, but the mass of administrative papyri from Egypt indicates a broader stratum of society dealing with written records. People from different walks of life—women, soldiers, freedmen—are attested in a variety of roles requiring or benefiting from basic literacy. Multiple examples of school exercises, scattered across the empire, show that at least in certain localities, children received some instruction in grammar, penmanship, and simple composition. Girls sometimes participated in these lessons, although less commonly than boys, yet enough to leave traces of female literacy in documents and inscriptions. This environment made it plausible for an upwardly mobile family, or even a moderately prosperous tradesman, to seize the opportunity for his children to learn the rudiments of reading and writing.

Fragmentary, Functional, and Proficient Literacy: A Fluid Continuum

Some modern definitions restrict literacy to the ability to read and write lengthy texts, yet the ancient sources reveal a nuanced gradient. Full illiteracy did exist, describing those who could neither read nor write, nor sign their names. Nevertheless, between that state and a highly skilled scholar, numerous intermediate steps were widespread. Modern historians sometimes fail to capture this spectrum when focusing on the top-level achievements of orators and philosophical authors or the anecdotal references to unlettered peasants. In reality, one can speak of fragmentary literacy, an inconsistent capacity that allowed a laborer to scratch his name, read basic price lists in the marketplace, and perhaps understand brief instructions posted by an employer or city official.

Another category is fundamental literacy, where a person can handle simple sentences, read short messages, and perform more than minimal arithmetic—enough for basic commerce, property transactions, or tax documents. Functional literacy, more advanced still, might mean drafting and reading moderate-length documents without too much difficulty, perhaps taking on tasks like copying sections of a letter or assisting with official paperwork. Proficient literacy refers to individuals who wrote or read with relative fluency. Though they might not compose grand rhetorical works, they managed short texts for administrative or commercial needs. Finally, full literacy described highly educated persons who could create and interpret elaborate prose, scholarly essays, or lengthy official documents. In Roman society, persons in high office, certain military posts, or specialized trades (scribes, tax collectors, or teachers) exemplified this advanced command of letters.

Many Christians, especially in urban congregations, found themselves somewhere in the fundamental to functional range. Even if they could not write a sophisticated treatise, they might read a passage of an apostolic letter to fellow believers or sign off on local church dealings. Such a scenario becomes evident when reading sections of the New Testament that assume the possibility of epistles being shared, read publicly, and circulated among multiple congregations (Colossians 4:16; 1 Thessalonians 5:27). The everyday realities of commerce and worship created a network of modest but significant literacy.

Influence of Urban Centers and Social Mobility on Education

Major metropolises—Rome, Corinth, Alexandria, Ephesus, and Antioch—were cultural melting pots. They drew ambitious provincials seeking the advantages of proximity to commerce, patronage, and social ascent. These same cities facilitated the exchange of ideas. In places like Alexandria, which housed the legendary library with potentially hundreds of thousands of scrolls, an atmosphere of literary activity thrived. Philosophers, Jewish exegetes, and later Christian teachers gathered to discuss religious, ethical, and political questions. Combined with the practical demands of living in a populous center—signage on buildings, graffiti, posted edicts of local officials—this environment prodded many to pick up at least minimal literacy.

While it would be misleading to portray first-century Rome as bursting with hundreds of thousands of readers, it is equally unwise to reduce the masses to inert illiterates. Historians note an entire class of scribes, copyists, and educated slaves dedicated to reading or writing for their patrons. Freedmen sometimes established trades that required recordkeeping. The presence of such groups suggests that the skill of reading and writing was more broadly relevant to ordinary city dwellers than once assumed. In that sense, the hierarchical ordering of Roman society, with distinct classes—senators, equestrians, local aristocrats, freedmen, laborers, and slaves—still made room for partial or full literacy in multiple strata.

Letters as an Extension of Personal Presence

Greek and Roman rhetorical handbooks often described letters as substitutes for the physical presence of the writer. For communities scattered throughout the empire, letters furnished a vital link to traveling leaders, business partners, and distant family. In the Christian context, the epistolary form became a hallmark of apostolic communication, exemplified by Paul’s letters to Corinth, Philippi, or Thessalonica. Such letters often opened with a greeting, advanced specific doctrinal or pastoral concerns, then concluded with final exhortations and personal tidings (1 Corinthians 16:19-24).

At a purely practical level, letter writing demanded that at least some members of each congregation be able to read or write. Paul sometimes used amanuenses (Romans 16:22) who would shape his dictation into final form, but he still signed with his own hand (Galatians 6:11). Those who received the letters—local elders or other responsible believers—would read them aloud to the assembly (Colossians 4:16). As time went on, copies might be made and forwarded to neighboring churches. This chain of reading, copying, and re-copying letters, so evident from the thousands of manuscript fragments surviving in Egypt, demonstrates that illiterate groups could not fully sustain such textual practices. On the contrary, the Christian movement adapted existing letter conventions of the empire, and in so doing, it drew from a pool of believers who had some competence in writing, whether partial or advanced.

The Centrality of Scripture in Christian Worship

From its Jewish roots, Christianity inherited a deep reverence for holy writings, culminating in the view that all Scripture was beneficial for instruction and correction (2 Timothy 3:16). The earliest believers possessed what they esteemed as the Hebrew Scriptures (often in Greek translation, the Septuagint) and recognized the authority of Jesus’ teachings. They gradually regarded apostolic letters as equally worthy of reading and preserving (2 Peter 3:15-16). Although many worshippers could have relied on public reading in gatherings, a portion of the assembly evidently had direct access to at least segments of Scripture. This impetus to know the written Word was part of Christian piety.

Such devotion promoted a tradition in which some gained the ability to read the prophets or the psalms (Luke 4:16-17), while others learned to annotate copies of Paul’s letters or preserve genealogies (1 Timothy 1:4). Literacy, at minimum, became a means of spiritual edification: a man might labor in a workshop all day but set aside a few moments to pore over a papyrus text of the Gospels or the Psalms. These quiet acts of devotion contributed to the spread of Christian belief across social boundaries. When entire households converted, as with Lydia in Acts 16:14-15 or the Philippian jailer in Acts 16:31-34, reading and interpreting Scripture might extend to families and slaves within that household, reinforcing the practice of reading the Word of God (Deuteronomy 17:19).

Graffiti in Pompeii, Herculaneum, and Beyond

Perhaps one of the most vivid demonstrations of broader literacy is the presence of graffiti in sites such as Pompeii, buried under ash after the catastrophic eruption of Mount Vesuvius in 79 C.E. More than eleven thousand graffiti samples in Pompeii alone reveal that not all writing in the Roman world was the domain of aristocrats or professional scribes. People left personal messages, advertisements, poems, insults, and love declarations on walls. Scholars quickly realized that those who composed these messages were not famed authors of high literature. Such casual writing, in various levels of grammatical correctness, reflected a portion of the populace who felt comfortable enough to pick up a stylus, piece of charcoal, or paintbrush and leave a visible note.

Some of this graffiti contains everyday references, while other examples feature lines of poetry or commentary on local events. At times the messages address social or personal matters, often with minimal rhetorical polish. Even if these scribbles reveal incomplete schooling, the scribblers nonetheless could encode and decode written words. That underscores a general environment in which the skill to read or write something was not alien to the lower classes. The same pattern emerges in other Roman sites, from the catacombs to the walls of modest dwellings.

Oxyrhynchus and the Avalanche of Documentary Papyri

The city of Oxyrhynchus in Egypt, with its massive trove of papyrus documents dating roughly from 300 B.C.E. to 500 C.E., has reshaped modern understanding of ancient literacy. By excavating the town’s ancient garbage dumps, archaeologists Bernard Grenfell and Arthur Hunt uncovered an almost unimaginable variety of texts: personal letters, receipts, contracts, petitions, invitations, and even fragments of the New Testament. Many of these items are authored by ordinary individuals, not by the famed philosophers or stylists of the day. The fact that these were discarded, many bearing errors or casual phrasing, clarifies that literacy was not reserved for a tiny clique.

While some historians once questioned whether these heaps were unique to Oxyrhynchus, reason suggests that other major cities would have produced similar amounts of documentation—albeit less likely to survive in their moister climates. The unique dryness of Egypt’s environment preserved an extraordinary textual record. The massive quantity and variety of these papyri underscore that many people at the lower or middle levels of society were generating or handling written communications. This speaks to a broad functional literacy and highlights a continuum of writing abilities.

The Church Fathers and Written Apologies

Within the second and third centuries, certain Christian writers, sometimes called Apologists, penned formal defenses of the faith for Roman officials or curious elites. Justin Martyr, Athenagoras, Theophilus of Antioch, and others used refined rhetorical structures to explain Christian doctrine and morality. Although these authors often aimed their discourses at the literati, their works indicate an expectation that the written argument would be shared among believers and interested outsiders. This underscores that segments of the Christian community not only preserved advanced rhetorical skill but also possessed enough literacy to follow such arguments. Without an audience of somewhat literate readers (or hearers who could have the Apologies read to them and then discuss the content), the Apologists’ works would have fallen on barren ground.

Jewish Christians, Gentile Converts, and Multilingual Realities

Christianity’s quick expansion, recorded in Acts, brought together both Jewish and Gentile believers from different linguistic backgrounds. Jerusalem’s early Christian community included Greek-speaking Jews (Acts 6:1) whose presence fueled the appointment of the Seven for administering food distribution. Many of these Hellenistic believers were comfortable not only in the Greek Scriptures but also in business or rhetorical Greek. They traveled with the good news across the eastern Mediterranean. Meanwhile, the assimilation of Gentiles meant that some from thoroughly pagan backgrounds entered a faith whose worship involved reading from the Law and Prophets (Acts 13:15; 2 Timothy 3:15). Though not every new convert learned to read Hebrew or Aramaic, many at least gained familiarity with Greek Scripture. Over decades, as Greek texts circulated, local communities might encourage literacy so that more believers could consult the apostolic letters or the Gospels directly (John 20:30-31).

Farther afield, in Egypt, some Coptic-speaking believers eventually found themselves reading or listening to translations of the New Testament in Coptic by the late second or early third century. In Syria, Aramaic dialects flourished; Syriac versions of the New Testament, such as the Diatessaron or later the Peshitta, served believers who spoke little or no Greek. Thus, the phenomenon of Christian literacy must be understood in a multilingual context. Each region developed solutions for worshipers who lacked thorough Greek skills, but the impetus to read or hear Scripture in one’s native tongue still demanded at least a small cadre of literate persons in each community.

Social Pressure from Government and Commerce

Administratively, the Roman Empire demanded certain official procedures that indirectly promoted literacy among the free population. Evidence from myriad inscriptions—laws, public decrees, lists of donors or local officials, milestone markers, and tributes—suggests that authorities expected readers to scan these documents. The question arises: if fewer than 10 percent of the population could read, why erect so many inscriptions in central civic spaces or on thoroughfares? While some might have been purely symbolic, it seems that they were, in part, intended for practical reading by passersby, or at least by those who would relay their content to others.

In the commercial sphere, daily transactions in marketplaces, shipping and receiving goods, or contracting for local building works often relied on brief written accounts. Military veterans who settled in colonies frequently had to manage land grants or official letters verifying their service. Shop owners used tablets to list prices or to keep track of inventory. Freed slaves who built small businesses needed to file papers verifying manumission and citizenship status. Scribes were available for those lacking skill, but many people found basic literacy beneficial.

These realities do not imply that every fisherman or farmer read Homeric epics or Virgil’s Aeneid. They do, however, demonstrate that an interest in writing extended beyond the senatorial class. Such an environment, especially in heavily urbanized regions, generated greater awareness of reading and writing as tools for upward mobility or at least for protecting one’s interests.

Rhetoric, Education, and Literary Culture

Roman educational practice heavily emphasized rhetoric. Students trained in grammar and oratory from early youth if their families had sufficient resources. Cicero and Quintilian describe the steps to master speaking with persuasiveness in public debates or legal proceedings. In Greek-speaking regions, a similar tradition traced back to the classical Athenian schools. This system created an intellectual climate that esteemed the ability to shape arguments. Although not every young person advanced beyond the “school of the grammarian,” enough did so to sustain a robust tradition of rhetorical handbooks, speech competitions, and published orations.

Christian leaders, too, interacted with this rhetorical culture, as can be seen in Paul’s epistles, which sometimes follow the norms of Greek letters (Romans 1:1-7) or incorporate rhetorical flourishes (Galatians 1:6-10). The Book of Hebrews employs a polished, almost homiletic style that reflects advanced schooling in Greek rhetorical methods. While not all believers possessed that level of polish, those who heard the text would likely have recognized rhetorical cues common in the milieu. The need to respond to a culture that prized structured discourse no doubt nudged certain Christians to hone their reading and writing skills.

The Role of Book Production and the Emergence of the Codex

In early Christian usage, the codex—a bound book form—gradually replaced the papyrus roll. By the second century, many Christian works, including the Gospels and Paul’s letters, circulated in codex form, especially in Egypt. The codex was more efficient in many ways, allowing easy reference, less unwieldy movement of large texts, and more convenient grouping of multiple writings (Luke and Acts could be bundled, or Paul’s letters assembled). This technology likely encouraged repeated reading and study. In large part, Christians championed the codex format, a shift that demanded skilled copyists and a readership able to navigate between pages instead of scrolling from left to right. The widespread adoption of the codex, at least within Christian circles, is another hint that at least functional literacy was present among groups of believers who desired more accessible Scriptures.

Letters, Bookishness, and Apostolic Authority

Early Christian assemblies placed a premium on reading apostolic letters aloud (Revelation 1:3). The author of 2 John 12 and 3 John 13 references the limited nature of writing, longing for face-to-face conversation instead, yet acknowledges that written letters are essential for communication in the meantime. Apostolic authority was often invoked through the phrase “It is written” (Matthew 4:4), which pointed to the Old Testament. Later, believers extended similar reverence to apostolic correspondence, albeit without equating it directly to the Hebrew Scriptures at first. This collective approach to reading and hearing Scripture stoked the desire for reliable copies.

Believers who traveled as missionaries, such as Paul or Apollos, might also have spurred literacy in local communities that wanted to read the new teachings. The iterative process of receiving letters, copying them, and forwarding them to other congregations demanded a consistent pool of literate individuals. Such communication networks helped unify doctrine and encourage discipline within widely scattered churches, made possible by a shared desire to handle and preserve authoritative writings (1 Corinthians 16:19).

The Practicality of Scribes and Amanuenses

While it is true that many could rely on scribes for more complex tasks, scribes themselves had to be numerous enough to serve the population. Paul’s mention of Tertius in Romans 16:22 reveals one such amanuensis. Similar references are found in 1 Peter 5:12 (Silvanus) and perhaps implied in other letters. A synergy emerges: a scribe might prepare an epistle for an apostle, then deliver it to a congregation where at least a few members could read it aloud. The presence of these scribes suggests the literacy base was sufficiently robust to sustain a professional class offering writing services.

Inscriptions and the Heightened Role of Public Writing

In Roman society, erecting inscriptions on stone or metal was a means to memorialize achievements, publish decrees, or commemorate individuals. Gravestones often contain more than names: full eulogies, curses against grave robbers, or testimonies to virtue, as though anticipating that visitors to the graveyard could and would read the text. Government announcements, carved on temple walls or public buildings, outlined rules or recognized benefactors. The frequent mention of posted edicts in historical sources (Acts 17:7 referencing accusations of sedition) indicates that city officials assumed at least some level of public comprehension or that residents might ask a literate neighbor to read the statements. Such customs highlight the practicality of literacy in shaping civic awareness.

Earliest Christian Texts: Evidence of Higher Literacy Among Believers

It is not accidental that the twenty-seven books recognized as the New Testament were all written in Greek, the lingua franca of the eastern empire, from about 50 to 100 C.E. The impetus to write the Gospels (Matthew, Mark, Luke, John) and numerous epistles (Pauline and otherwise) refutes the notion that early Christianity was purely oral. While oral preaching retained importance, especially in evangelistic efforts, the faith soon crystallized in an extensive body of literature. This written tradition spread from synagogue-based settings in Judea to house churches across the Greek-speaking world and, later, to Latin-speaking western provinces.

One cannot imagine this textual expansion if only a handful of individuals across hundreds of communities could read. Rather, it suggests that in each congregation, a stable minority could handle the reading of Scripture and the clarifying of it for others (Nehemiah 8:8). Meanwhile, the broad circulation and copying of these writings illustrate a system that depended on literate specialists, but also found an eager audience that at least valued the written word as a means of teaching about Christ (Romans 10:17). Far from a negligible phenomenon, the Christian focus on the Word (John 1:1-14) spurred believers to keep producing manuscripts, establishing an identity as “people of the Book,” who studied the Law and the Gospel to understand Jehovah’s revealed will.

Assessing Celsus’s Mockery and the Growth of Christianity

In the late second century, the pagan philosopher Celsus ridiculed Christians for being, in his view, unpolished laborers and uneducated folk. Yet from what vantage point did he witness this? Celsus might have encountered only a handful of believers in a given place, or possibly had a narrow circle of acquaintances. We know from 1 Corinthians 1:26-27 that many among the earliest churches came from humble stations, which was a testament to Christianity’s capacity to attract the common people. Still, that reality does not exclude a measure of competence in reading or writing. Even among fishermen, tax collectors, or soldiers, some possessed enough literacy to handle commercial and civic responsibilities. This is illustrated by the apostles themselves—Matthew had been a tax collector (Matthew 9:9), and Levi is sometimes identified with that same background of recordkeeping.

Over time, from 33 C.E. to the mid-second century, Christianity’s numerical strength soared from a small group of about 120 in Jerusalem (Acts 1:15) to an estimated one million or more across the empire by 125–150 C.E. This growth would have been exceedingly difficult if the faith was confined to illiterate individuals unable to replicate or share written texts. The use of the Septuagint likewise had become so prevalent among Christians that many Jews abandoned it, returning to Hebrew texts to maintain a distinct identity. Christians, on the other hand, fully embraced Greek Scripture, demonstrating a willingness to engage with the textual dimension of their beliefs.

Literary Genres, Rhetoric, and the Formation of a Christian Canon

In the broader Greco-Roman world, literary forms included biographies, histories, speeches, and philosophical treatises. The Gospels share certain features with ancient biographies, focusing on Jesus’ life and teaching, yet they differ by emphasizing the salvific significance of his ministry. Acts resembles a historical monograph, though it centers on the divine guidance of the early Church rather than purely political or military events. Paul’s letters, with rhetorical flourishes reminiscent of Greco-Roman epistles, bridged Jewish theology and Hellenistic communicative strategies. These textual productions are inconceivable without a modest but real foundation of literate believers who could preserve, copy, and interpret them within congregational life.

As the impetus to define and collect authoritative writings grew, culminating in the recognition of a Christian “canon,” reading and copying these texts became a communal priority. The codex form allowed easier consolidation of multiple Gospels or apostolic letters in one volume, signifying that Christian scribes and readers perceived the benefits of organized collections. This phenomenon, widely attested by second-century papyrus fragments of the New Testament, would not make sense in a world where literacy was confined to an invisible corner.

Conclusion: Literacy’s Role in Roman Society and Early Christian Growth

All the evidence considered—graffiti from Pompeii, inscriptions scattered across the empire, documentary papyri from Oxyrhynchus, Jewish schooling traditions, Roman administrative needs, Christian epistolary exchanges, and the emergence of codex collections—points to a practical literacy that went beyond the small circle of elite aristocrats. Although illiteracy remained high by today’s standards, enough people possessed fragmentary, functional, or proficient writing and reading skills to support the daily demands of commerce, civic administration, and, quite importantly, religious practice. Early Christianity, shaped by Jewish reverence for Scripture and the Roman world’s reliance on documentation, found fertile ground to develop a textual culture. Even if many believers depended on public reading for instruction, the infrastructure of scribal activity and modest literacy undergirded the circulation and preservation of apostolic letters and the Gospels.

Yes, orality remained significant in an empire accustomed to performance rhetoric and public recitation. But the textual dimension is equally central. The impetus to “search the Scriptures” (John 5:39) and pass along letters from spiritual authorities (2 Thessalonians 2:15) helped spur an environment in which literacy—though unevenly distributed—was more widespread than older stereotypes allow. Some places were doubtless more advanced in reading skills than others; a fisherman in rural Galilee might not match the abilities of a scribe in Alexandria. Yet collectively, the impetus for writing and reading shaped communities across the empire.

Roman educational frameworks and the practicalities of daily life show that the empire needed more than 5–10 percent of its population to handle basic reading or writing tasks. While advanced rhetorical skills might remain in the domain of the wealthy or well-trained, fundamental and functional literacy was far from rare. Christians benefited from—and contributed to—this environment by using the codex form, by preserving manifold texts, and by expecting that local members could at least read official letters or short passages of Scripture. Whether in Rome, Corinth, Ephesus, or Antioch, the faithful operated within a culture that fostered reading and writing for pragmatic, administrative, and spiritual reasons. Rather than a negligible phenomenon, literacy was woven into early Christian identity, fueling growth in a Roman world that demanded textual awareness. As believers strove to “increase in the knowledge of God” (Colossians 1:10), the synergy between Roman educational standards, Jewish textual devotion, and Christian missionary zeal provided the impetus for a more text-oriented faith.

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