WORKING DRAFT. DO NOT CITE WITHOUT AUTHOR’S PERMISSION. © 2010 W.

Caraher

The Ambivalent Landscape of Christian Corinth

The Archaeology of Place, Theology, and Politics in a Late Antique City
Delivered at Corinth in Constrast: Studies in Inequality
September 30 – October 2, 2010
University of Texas at Austin
© 2010 William Caraher
Introduction
In keeping with the theme of this conference, “Corinth in contrast”, my
paper seeks to sketch the relationship between Corinthian residents and
imperial authority over the course of the 6th century. The political,
economic, and ecclesiastical position of Corinth during the middle decades
of this century created an environment susceptible to multiple competing
and contrasting messages. The city itself represented a porous and
vulnerable liminal zone between the more prosperous east and the
politically less stable west, stood amidst conflicting political and
ecclesiastical jurisdictions during significant shifts in the nature of
imperial authority, and endured an apparently systematic campaign of
external investment by the ambitious and expansionistic emperor
Justinian who sought not only to expand imperial power institutionally,
but symbolically as well.
This paper argues that the archaeological evidence for imperial
involvement in the Corinthia created the material and political conditions
for what J. Elsner has called “internal friction” in the physical
manifestations of imperial and Corinthian authority in the landscape.
These tensions characterized the subtle evidence for resistance both
within imperial policies and toward them.1 As recent scholarship on so-
called Romanization and other forms of ancient cultural change has
shown, the process of reception plays a key role in defining the
relationship between local and imperial authority.2 Just as the reception
of even the most consistently produced ideological messages is
undoubtedly individualized, social status, relationships to the mode and
means of production, and ideological, political, and religious commitments
surely form larger patterns in the creation of a lived, ancient landscape.
Detecting the evidence for the reception of both local and imperial policies
in the 5th and 6th century Corinthia can contribute to how we understand
the increasingly monumentalized discourse of authority in the reign of

                                                                                                               
1Elsner, Roman Eyes: Visuality and Subjectivity in Art and Text. (Princeton 2007), 255.
2For useful summaries of this vast body of scholarship see: L. Revell, Roman Imperialism
and Local Identity. (Cambridge 2009); R. Hingley, Globalizing Roman Culture: Unity,
Diversity, and Empire. (London 2005).

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Justinian.3 Detecting evidence for resistance or accommodation in these

buildings presents a significant challenge and will likely remain a
speculative exercise.
Nevertheless, this speculation can cast suggestive light on archaeological
traces of the tensions between the political authority of the East and the
religious authority of the West. These tensions played out all across the
Balkans over the course of the 5th century in a series of ecclesiastical
controversies beginning with the Acacian schism which placed most of the
bishops of Illyicum and Epirus at odds with the Patriarch and Emperor in
Constantinople.4 The resolution of his conflict in 519, shortly after the
accession of Justin I, marked only a momentary break in divisive politics
of Chalcedon. The ascendance of Justinian and his well-documented and
ambitious policies had a significant impact on the political and religious
landscape of the empire, and Corinth did not escaped the impact of these
policies in its political position as the capital of Achaea and its
ecclesiastical position as the seat of the powerful Bishop.5 The location of
Corinth - between East and West, imperial power and papal authority – left
faint but discernable traces across the archaeological and human
landscape leaving tantalizing hints of the potential for both resistance and
accommodation.
My effort to excavate evidence for resistance in the Corinthian landscape
will focus on three case studies. The first will consider the role of
ecclesiastical architecture and authority in the Corinthian landscape. The
second will extend this discussion to secular architecture, and focus on the
construction or renovation of local fortifications, and the impact that these
building may have had both on the traditional indicators of the Late Roman
economy and on the bodies of the Corinthians who undoubtedly
contributed their labor to the monumental discourse of power in the
region. Finally, this paper will consider the theological aspect of the
imperial presence in the landscape and argue that the internal frictions of

                                                                                                               
3 V. Limberis, "Ecclesiastical Ambiguities: Corinth in the fourth and fifth centuries," in
Urban Religion in Roman Corinth: Interdisciplinary Approaches, Daniel Schowalter and
Steven Friesen, eds., in Harvard Theological Studies 53 (Cambridge, MA 2005), 443-457;
C. Sotinel, “Autorité pontificale et pouvoir impérial sous le règne de Justinien: Le Pape
Vigile,” Mélange d’archéologie et d’histoire de l’École français de Rome 104 (1992), 439-
463; --, “Emperors and Popes in the Sixth Century: The Western View,” in The Cambridge
Companion to the Age of Justinian. M. Maas ed. (Cambridge 2005), 267-290; C. Pietri,“La
géographie de l’Illyricum ecclésiastique et ses relations avec l’Églize de Rome (Ve-VIe
siècles),” in Villes peuplement dan l’Illyricum protobyzanin (1984), 21-59
4 For the best discussion of the Acacian Schism in Greece see: P. Charanis, Church and

State in the Later Roman Empire: The Religious Policy of Anastasius I, 491-518, 2nd ed.
(Θεσσαλονίκη: Κέντρο Βυζαντινών Ερευνών - ΑΠΘ, 1974).
5 R. M. Rothaus, Corinth, the First city of Greece : an Urban History of Late Antique Cult

and Religion. (Leiden 2000); T. A. Gritsopoulos, (1972). Peloponnesiaka, 9 (1972), 77-84.

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imperial policy manifested itself in these ambiguous texts and contributed

to a genuinely ambivalent landscape.
The Church and the Christian Landscape

[SLIDE] The most obvious and, perhaps, best known buildings dating to
the 6th century are the series of Early Christian basilicas arrayed around
the city of Corinth and throughout the surrounding countryside.6 Based on
the present state of our knowledge, these buildings appear to represent a
single phase of large scale, monumental, “Early Christian” type
architecture in the Corinthia. There is only scant evidence for earlier,
Christian buildings and later, Early Byzantine, structures appeared either
on a much smaller-scale or as simply the later phases of 6th century
monuments.7
The size and architecture of the 6th century churches represents one of the
more obvious characteristics of the 6th century Christian city and its
territory. My paper today will consider the influence of just one these
buildings: the opulent and distinctive architecture and decoration of the
Lechaion basilica.8 [SLIDE] The influence of this impressive building in
the architecture of nearly contemporary structures in the region presents
the only evidence for the reception of this building by local residents of all
kinds.

[SLIDE] This is particularly significant because the work of G. Sanders

and K. Slane have strongly suggested a mid to late 6th century date for this
building, and most scholars have seen its extensive use of Proconnesian
marble, elaborately decorated column capitals and floor treatments, and
vast size as an indication that it was an imperial foundation.9 The
combination of a mid to late 6th century date and opulent décor makes it
impossible not to see this building as part of Justinian’s larger building
project both in the region and across the empire.

                                                                                                               
6 D. Pallas s.v. “Korinth”, in Reallexicon zur Byzantinischen Kunst 4. (Stuttgar 1990).
For more recent summaries discussion see T. E. Gregory, “Religion and Society in the
Roman Eastern Corinthia,” in Corinth in Context: Comparative Studies on Religion and
Society. S. J. Friesen, D. N. Schowalter, and J. C. Walters eds. (Leiden 2010), 433-476;
G.D.R. Sanders, “Archaeological Evidence for Early Christianity and the End of Hellenic
Religion in Corinth,” in Urban Religion in Roman Corinth: Interdisciplinary Approaches.
D. N. Schowalter and S. J. Friesen eds. (Cambridge, Mass. 2005), 419-442.
7 The obvious examples of probably late 6th or early 7th century building in the Corinthia

are the basilica on the temple hill and the small church on Acrocorinth.
8 D. Pallas, Pallas, Les Monuments Paléochrétiens De Grèce Découverts De 1959 À 1973.

(Vatican 1977), 165-171 for a brief summary; K. W Slane and G. D.R Sanders, “Corinth:
Late Roman Horizons,” Hesperia 74 (2005): 243–297.
9 Sanders, “Archaeological Evidence,” 439.

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The imperial patron and the distinct character of the building probably
explains its influence on the other structures in the region. [SLIDE]
Sanders has suggested that some aspects of the Panayia bath as well as
other small bathing establishments in the city of Corinth show similarities
to the baptistery at Lechaion basilica.10 The two buildings are probably
close contemporaries and the relationship between baptism and bathing
has longstanding symbolic and architectural associations. An audience
might have been predisposed to recognize the similarities between the
building’s apsidal halls which lead into two chambered spaces. Both
buildings share an octagonal core which opens onto additional chambers
on four of its sides. [SLIDE] While finding parallels for octagonal
baptisteries is not a particularly challenging task, it may be worth noting
that there are obvious parallels between the Lechaion baptistery and the
perhaps contemporary “Small Baptistery” baptistery at Hagia Sophia in
Constantinople as well.11

[SLIDE] The influence of the Lechaion church also extended to a nearby

nymphaium situated just over a kilometer to the northeast of the
building.12 The initial phase of this structure appears to date to the Roman
period, but coins of Justinian and Justin date a significant rebuilding to the
6th century.13 [SLIDE] There are clear similarities between the opus
sectile floors preserved at the nymphaion and those present at Lechaion.
An even more compelling parallel comes from the architectural marble
associated with the rebuilding of the nymphaion. [SLIDE] Both buildings
featured impressive verde antico columns. More importantly, there are at
least three well-preserved ionic impost capitals from the site that look
identical to those at the Lechaion basilica. [SLIDE x 2] The similarities
between the decoration of the nymphaion suggest that some of the marble
architectural elements may have been produced by the same crews who
worked on the basilica. This is particularly significant for the ionic impost
capitals which are exceedingly rare in non-ecclesiastical contexts.14 In
fact, in Vassiliki Vemi’s rather incomplete catalogue of ionic impost
capitals from Greece, there is only one capital from a non-ecclesiastical
building. While the fountain may have served the needs of suite of rooms

                                                                                                               
10 Sanders, “A Late Roman Bath at Corinth: Excavations in the Panayia Field, 1995-1996”
Hesperia 68 (1999), 474-475.
11 K. Dark and J. Kostenec, “The Byzantine Patriarchate in Constantinople and the

Baptistery of the church of Hagia Sophia,” Architectura 36 (2006), 113-130

12 A. Philadelpheus, ArchDelt, 4 (1918), 125-135; E. Stikas, PraktikaAE (1957), 89-94.
13 E. Stikas, PraktikaAE (1957), 93-94.
14 F. Yegul, “Early Byzantine Capitals from Sardis. A Study on the Ionic Impost Type,” DOP

28 (1974), 266; Only one of the capitals in V. Vemi’s catalogue comes from a building
other than a church: Vemi, V. Les Chapiteaux Ioniques à Imposte de Grèce à L’Époque
Paléochrétienne. BCH Supp. 17 (Paris 1989), no. 116; G. A. Soteriou, PraktikaAE (1939),
59-60. N.B. Yegul noted that the impost capitals from Sardis and from the Palace in
Constantinople did not feature crosses; the one in Thessaly and the Corinthia do.

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surrounding it, the similarities in decoration between the two sites perhaps
hints that the nymphaion evoked the more grandiose decoration of the
nearby church. Whether this indicates that the nymphaion was owned by
a wealthy local resident with imperial connections, a member of the
ecclesiastical hierarchy or even the church itself as a stopping point for
travelers along the coastal road on the approach to the church at Lechaion,
the Justinianic date of the building coincides with the revised dates of the
Lechaion basilica and provides another example of the influence of this
monumental building.
The most obvious buildings to have an architectural relationship with the
Lechaion church are the other 6th century basilicas around Corinth. While
the chronological relationship between these building remains difficult to
assess, Dimitrios Pallas argued that the Corinthian churches, nevertheless,
shared sufficiently similar features to be considered as a group.15 He based
his arguments on both the cluster of possible liturgical annexes around
their Western end, their similar proportions of length to width, and their
vaguely anthropomorphic shape. There is no doubt that it is possible to see
the great Lechaion church in the plans of both the Kodratos and Skoutelas
basilicas, and to a somewhat lesser extent in the preserved remains of the
Kraneion basilica.
In fact, the generally similar plans among the 6th century basilicas in the
Corinthian throws makes differences between the churches even more
obvious. [SLIDE] The Kraneion basilica, for example, used heavy piers to
separate the aisles from the main nave (1.80 m wide x .85 m deep; against
1.80 m wide openings).16 Lechaion, in contrast, followed a more traditional
pattern by separating the nave from the aisles by a series of columns
supporting arches that sprung from ornate ionic impost capitals. It
appears that most of the columns in this nave colonnade were imperially
controlled Proconnesian marble and the ionic impost capitals are
sufficiently regular in design to suggest an imperial work crew. The
absence, then, of a marble colonnade at Kraneion would have marked this
church out from both the other local basilicas as well as basilicas across
the region. If we assume that the nave colonnade at Lechaion worked to
communicate the building's imperial funding, then the absence of such a
colonnade at Kraneion may have served to distinguish this church and
perhaps its source of patronage from the massive Lechaion church.
This inconsistency in one of the primary areas for display in Late Roman
basilica type churches may have had particular significant in Greece. In
most reconstructions of the Greek liturgy the congregation stood in the
                                                                                                               
15 Pallas, “Corinth et Nicopolis pendant le haut moyen-âge,” Felix Ravenna 18 (1979), 93-
142.
16 Shelley, “The Christian Basilica Near the Chenchrean Gate at Corinth,” Hesperia 12

(1943), 172.

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aisles leaving the main nave open for liturgical movements by the clergy.
In this ritual context, the colonnade served to frame the perspective of the
congregation as they watched the liturgical proceedings. The contrasting
arrangement between the Lechaion church and the church at Kraneion
would have not been lost on even the most casual observer. Moreover, the
importance of the processional axis of Early Christian churches
undoubtedly accounts for its use to display the control over resources,
wealth, and decorative flourish at Lechaion. The absence of a elaborate
nave colonnade at Kraneion, then, literally reframed the viewing of the
liturgy and suggested that the wealth and privilege this colonnade
communicated formed just one part of a monumentalized discourse of
religious status.
The Political and Economic Landscape of Corinth
While the elaborate basilicas that dot the 6th century Corinthian landscape
form a key focal point for the architecture of the Late Roman city, the
“building boom” of the mid-6th century extended beyond ecclesiastical
architecture. Procopius tells us that Justinian repaired the Hexamilion
fortification which he claimed had fallen into ruines and he may have also
repaired or refortified the city wall of Corinth.17 Survey archaeology has
documented what appear to be contemporary developments in the
construction of amenities and rural housing in the Corinthian countryside
The material present in the countryside suggests that the rural zone of the
Isthmus saw the a new wave in elite rural habitation perhaps associated
with the intensification of agriculture and local prosperity among the elite.
The large-scale 6th century investment on the landscape by both the
imperial authorities and, most likely, local residents must have had a
profound visual, religious, and economic impact on life in the Corinthia.
The very act of constructing the physical monuments ensured that the
monumental and ideologically-charged discourse engaged the physical
bodies of a significant number of Corinthians. The economic impact of
these works on the local elite would have linked patterns of labor,
production, and consumption to the experience of an increasingly
monumentalized landscape.

[SLIDE] The most ambitious non-ecclesiastical projects in the region were

likely the work to repair or reinforce both the Hexamilion and the city wall
of Corinth. Inscriptions associated with the Hexamilion’s fortress and
Procopius’ account of Justinian’s work in the area make clear that these
projects represented imperial interest in the Corinthia. The inscription
names the emperor and alludes to the deployment of Viktorinus who may

                                                                                                               
17Procopius, Aed. 4.2.27-28; 4.1.2; T.E. Gregory,“Procopius on Greece,” Ant Tard 8
(2000), pp. 105-115.

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have been a specialist in fortifications active in the Balkans and beyond.18

Even if the 6th c. wall around the city itself is, as Sanders has argued, much
smaller than previously suggested, the refortification of the city
nevertheless represents a serious and highly visible commitment to the
community.19 P. Nick Kardulias and Gregory have both shown that the
financing and personnel required for these projects would have provided
employment for local laborers, put wealth into the local economy, and
likely brought troops or skilled workmen into the region.20 The scale of the
projects, particular those associated with the repair of the Hexamilion,
suggests that these re-fortification projects would have effected almost the
entire Corinthia. The presence of monumental inscriptions associated with
at least some of these fortifications tied imperial munificence to important
and highly visible features in the Corinthian landscape.
The everyday experience of the renovated (or even constructed) walls of
the Corinthia is not the only way that imperial authority manifest itself
locally. Local Corinthians, irrespective of political or religious predilections
would have contributed to the physical construction of the Hexamilion wall
as well as the other projects in the Corinthia positioned to announce
imperial power. The church at Lechaion and the nearby villa-nymphaion,
for example, shared opus sectile and marble which may imply that the two
buildings may shared a work crew.
This observation, however, reduces the individuals involved in creating a
monumentalized discourse to the mere results of their labor. [mention the
marblers inscription dedicated to Theodosius] There are, however, faint
traces of the work crews independent from the main goals of their
exertions that preserve a fleeting glimpse of the individuals who labored
physically to construct imperial authority on the Isthmus. Sanders has
reported that graffiti of fish in the wet mortar of both the Lechaion basilica,
the Panayia bath in the city of Corinth proper, the Hexamilion wall as well
as several other places in the vicinity of Corinth. These modest graffiti
might well suggest that the same groups of workers or, more probably, the
same organization provided labor for both buildings. These simple graffiti
in the mortar of on the outside wall of the basilica would have almost
certainly been covered with either a layer of finer stucco or the
surrounding ground level when the building was completed. Despite the
invisibility of these gestures, the symbol of the fish seems likely to have
had religious significance. The fish had been one of the earliest symbols

                                                                                                               
18 D. Feissel, “L’architecte Viktôrinos et les fortifications de Justinien dans les provinces
balkaniques,” BSNAF (1988 [1990]), 136-146
19 Sanders and Slane, “Late Roman Horizons,” 193
20 P. N. Kardulias,“Architecture, Energy, and Social Evolution at Isthmia, Greece: Some

Thoughts about Late Antiquity in the Korinthia,” JMA 8 (1995), 33-59; P. N. Kardulias,
From Classical to Byzantine: Social Evolution in Late Antiquity and the Fortress at
Isthmia, Greece. (Oxford 2005)

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associated with Christianity. We have no idea whether these symbols were

set to mark out these buildings as "Christian" (as if this was necessary for
the Lechaion basilica church!), to mark the work of a particular crew of
laborers, or as some kind of apotropaic function that indicated either
resistance or accommodation. It is clear, however, that the monumental
architecture of the Corinthia not only projected power into the local
landscape and bodies, but also provided a new context for local expression
in the everyday actions of the relatively humble Corinthian workers. In
short, the act of building made their bodies physically complicit in the
production of imperial ideology on the Isthmus, but at the same time,
graffiti like the fish showed that the reception of these buildings was not
necessarily a monolithic experience.
The construction boom of the 6th century likely provided new opportunities
for the local elite as well. [SLIDE] While evidence for the economic and
political activities of the elite in the 6th century remain limited in the
archaeological record, the Eastern Korinthia Archaeological Survey
produced several clear concentrations of 6th century fine ware on the
Isthmus. These concentrations consist of three of the most common
middle to late 6th century forms: Phocaean Ware Form 10 and African Red
Slip form 103-105 and 99, which usually date to after 533 and the
Byzantine reconquest of North Africa. These sherds appear in several clear
concentrations of artifacts suggesting that they reflected some kind of
cohesive activity areas. Moreover, the units with 6th century pottery tend
to lack diagnostic pottery, mostly fine ware, from earlier periods in Late
Antiquity. This would seem to indicate that these areas saw an increase in
investment or change in function during the mid-6th century. Perhaps
earlier, more industrial uses of landscape gave way to more domestic
activities where imported fine wares were more appropriate. [SLIDE]
The evidence from survey complements evidence from better-documented
sites such as the villa at Akra Sophia published by Tim Gregory and the
Southeastern Korinthia Exploration Project.21 Gregory dated this
elaborate house to the 6th century on the basis of a fragment of amphora
embedded in the mortar of a foundation and associated material including
a piece of imitation LRC ware dated to the second half of the sixth century
and LRC 10B and ARS 99 with similar dates. Like many of the
concentrations discovered in the survey, there was little evidence to
suggest that this villa was the expansion of earlier large-scale activity at
the site, although the villa’s foundations set into the bedrock may have
obscured or obliterated evidence for earlier activity.
The economic impact of the 6th century building boom ensured that the
political goals of both imperial involvement in the region and local

                                                                                                               
21T. E. Gregory, “An Early Byzantine Complex at Akra Sophia Near Corinth,” Hesperia 54
(1985), 416-419.

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responses left traces in both the productive landscape and on the physical
bodies of Corinthians. This provided a context for genuinely ambivalent
spaces among Corinthians whose work supported different articulations of
local authority and in the landscape itself which became inscribed with a
monumentalized discourse that offered competing perspectives on political
authority.
Corinth: A Theological Landscape

The contributions of monumental architecture to the 6th century political

and economic discourse are perhaps unsurprising. The theological aspects
to Justinian’s work have been less thoroughly considered in the
archaeological record. Of course, Procopius’ De Aedificiis emphasized
strong religious dimension to Justinian’s building projects, and his political
involvement in affairs of the church would urge us to see theological or at
very least ecclesiastical motivations for his interest in monumental
expressions of authority.22

[SLIDE] On the ground in the Corinthia, the language present in the two
inscriptions associated with Justinian used theologically loaded language
to ask God and the Virgin to protect the emperor, his colleague Victorinus,
and Greece.23 Scholars have generally dated these texts to the early 550s
based on the absence of Theodora from the texts. This date places these
texts amidst of a series of increasingly hostile political and theological
clashes with the church in the West which ultimately culminated in the
Three-Chapters Controversy and the Second Council of Constantinople.24
The church of Corinth was probably out of communion with the Imperial
See until the early decades of the 6th century and the resolution of the
Acacian schism. The aftershocks of this controversy probably echoed and
ensured that the emperor’s religious policies did not garner enthusiasm at
least among the ecclesiastical elite. In 536, the bishop of Corinth overtly
supported Pope Agapitus’s visit to the Capital to depose the monophysite-
leaning Patriarch Anthimus by sending two deacons presumably to
represent his See.25 In a more circumstantial association, Pseudo-Gregory
in his Dialogues has militantly pro-Chalcedonian Bishop Datius of Milan
stop through Corinth on his way to the Capital in 544.26 It should go
without saying that a major route from the West passed through Corinth in
Antiquity; so it may be significant that the city of Corinth is mentioned by
                                                                                                               
22 G. Fowden, “Late Roman Achaea Identity and Defence. JRA 8 (1995), 549-567; Av.
Cameron, Procopius and the Sixth Century. (London 1985)
23 IG IV 204; IG IV 205.
24 For a good summary of issues related to the Three Chapters controversy see: C. Chazelle

and C. Cubitt eds., The Crisis of the Oikoumene: The Three Chapters and the Failed Quest
for Unity in the Sixth Century Mediterranean. (Turnhout 2007)
25 ACO III, 29.16, 127.39, 163.13, 171.30.
26 Ps.-Gregory, Dialogues, 3.4

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name. By the Council of Constantinople in 553, only four bishops attended

from the province of Achaea: Megara, Opus, Aigio, and Porthmos on
Euboea.27 While the subscription list for the council remains problematic,
the absence of Corinth – the metropolitan church of Achaea – suggests that
support for the Council’s decision did not necessarily follow along the lines
of the ecclesiastical hierarchy.
The two inscriptions that mention Justinian from the Corinthia make clear
reference to contemporary theological controversies, while conspicuously
ignoring local elites. Both the Theotokos and the first lines of the Nicene
Creed evoke some of emperor’s theological imperatives related, in part, to
the spread of the imperially-sponsored Constantinopolitan liturgy. The
presence of the Nicene-Constantinopolitan Creed in the inscription
discovered at Isthmia likely evokes the Constantinopolitan liturgy where
the Creed was regularly read by the 6th century.28 The reference to the
Theotokos in the other, contemporary, Justinianic inscription from the
Isthmus is a logical and theological extension of the references in the
Isthmia text. In fact, these texts may have worked together to embed a
theological argument within the Corinthian landscape. After all, if Christ
was “Light from light, true God from true God,” then Mary was by necessity
the Theotokos.
The link between Mary as the Theotokos and the Creed transferred
concepts from Justinian’s own theological writings to the Corinthian
landscape. The same link between the Creed and the Theotokos appears in
his own writings, many of the so-called Neo-Chalcedonian writers who
drew heavily on the works of Cyril of Alexandria,29 and even in less
theological texts like the near contemporary work of Corripus, In Laudem
Iustini Augusti minoris. This encomium celebrated Justin II’s ascension to
the throne in 565 and encapsulated many of Justinian’s efforts at
theological reform.30
By foregrounding theologically sensitive language in these texts, Justinian
emphasized a growing interest not only in extending imperial authority
over matters of theology, but specifically exerting a concerted influence
over the church in the West.31 Neither of the texts referenced above would

                                                                                                               
27 R. Price, The Acts of the Council of Constantinople of 553, Vol. 2 (Liverpool 2009), 294;
E. Chrysos, Die Bischofslisten des V. Okumenische Konzils (553). (Bonn 1966).
28 J.N.D. Kelly, Early Christian Creeds. (London 1950), 348-349
29 P. T. R. Gray, The Defense of Chalcedon in the East (451-553). (Leiden 1979);

Justinian, On the Person of Christ: The Christology of Emperor Justinian. Trans. K.P.
Wesche, pp. 119-120 and throughout.  
30 Av. Cameron, Corippus, Flavius Cresconius: In Laudem Iustini Augusti Minoris.

(London 1976).
31 R. A. Markus, “Carthage - Prima Justiniana - Ravenna: an Aspect of Justinian’s

Kirchenpolitik,” Byzantion 49 (1979), 277-306; Sotinel “Emperors and Popes in the Sixth
Century,” 267-290;

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fit within in the theological context of Western, that is Papal, theology. In

fact, the Roman church neither showed the Mary as the Theotokos
particular veneration, nor saw the Creed as important public text until its
inclusion in the liturgy in the 10th century.32 At the same time, these texts
drew upon concepts on which there was general agreement in the West and
East, and in particular reinforced the imperial loyalty to ecumenical
symbols of Chalcedon, Ephesus, and ultimately Nicaea.

[SLIDE] The Constantinopolitan and imperial liturgy also made its

presence felt locally through the position of the centrally placed ambo in
the church at Lechaion. This arrangement is unusual in Greece and was
incompatible with the organization of the Early Christian liturgy in the
West more generally.33 In the Capital, the solea provided access to the
ambo for the reading of the Gospel and other liturgical movements that
might be interrupted by the crush of the congregation in the main nave.34
The ambos in Greece, in contrast, were offset to either the north or south of
the churches’ main axis and generally lacked the solea.35 In fact, the solea
was redundant in Greece, and at the Lechaion church, in particular,
because intercolumnar parapet screens set atop a high stylobate separated
the aisles from the main nave and the congregation from the main
processional space of the clergy. In this arrangement, the specific function
of the centrally placed ambo and the solea, as well as its relationship to
specific liturgical movements is perhaps less significant than the
architectural allusion to the Constantinopolitan liturgy in the arrangement
of the nave at Lechaion. The use of Proconnesian marble, as we noted
above, completed the architecture experience by framing the scene of the
liturgy with imperial opulence.
Like the inscribed texts from the Isthmus, the arrangement of liturgical
furnishings presented an ambiguous message to an audience. On the one
hand, the allusions to imperial liturgy of Constantinople are unmistakable;
on the other hand, references to local practice and sensitivities to local
beliefs grounded imperial authority in a Corinthian context.

                                                                                                               
32 Kelly, Early Christian Creeds, 356-357.
33 For the liturgy in Greece see: Soteriou, AE (1929); Orlandos, Η Ξυλόστεγος
Παλαιοχριστιανική Βασιλική Της Μεσογειακής Λεκάνης: Μελέτη Περί Της Γενέσεως, Της Καταγωγής, Της
Αρχιτεκτονικής Μορφής Και Της Διακοσμήσεως Των Χριστιανικών Οίκων Λατρείας Από Των Αποστολικών
Χρόνων Μέχρις Ιουστινιανού. (Athens 1957); Pallas, “Corinth et Nicopolis,”; -- “Monuments et
texts: rémarques sur la liturgie dans quelques basiliques paléochrétiens.” Ἐπετηρίς Ἑταιρείας
Βυζανινῶν Σπουδῶν 44 (1979/1980), 37-116; L'édifice culturel chrétien et la liturgie dans
l'Illuricum oriental," Studi Antichita Cristiana 1 (1984), 544-557; T. Mathews, The Early
Churches of Constantinople:architecture and Liturgy. (University Park 1971), 119-121.
34 P.H.F. Jacobs Die Frühchristlichen Ambone Griechenlands (Bonn 1987), 255-256; S.G.

Xydis, “The Chancel Barrier, Solea, and Ambo of Hagia Sophia,” AB 29 (1947), 1-24.
1947; Mathews, Early Churches, 110.
35 Jackobs, Die Frühchristlichen Ambone, 1987.

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Conclusions
As a kind of conclusion, I’d like to compare the texts from the Isthmus and
the experience of liturgy at Lechaion to a pair of humble, fragmentary
inscriptions discovered in scratched into the wall of the baptistery at
Lechaion.36

These two texts are inscribed prayers like the more monumental
inscriptions associated with Justinian and Victorinus. The first calls for
some one to remember Eudokia and the second calls for someone,
presumably the divine, to help the deacon Loukainos, his wife, and
children. Unlike the conspicuously monumental Isthmia inscription, this
text is etched into a fragment of mortar built into the wall of the
baptistery. The date of inscription is impossible to establish, and it may
even date to after the destruction of the basilica. On the other hand, the
text represents a distinctly local voice in a building most clearly associated
with larger imperial aspirations. Despite Loukianos position within the
church hierarchy, the text’s humble form, improvised location, and a
deeply personal in tone evoke a different voice. Like the fish of the masons
working on the basilica or the solid piers of the Kraneion church, these
texts reinforce the ambivalent character of the monumental discourse.
The building boom of the 6th century created a monumental context for
changes in theology, ecclesiastical authority, and imperial policy in the
Corinthia. These changes found echoes in the epigraphy, architecture, and
landscape, which hint that the Late Antique Corinthia presented both an
imperial face and ample space for resistance. The result is an ambivalent
landscape that embodied literally and figuratively the space of Corinthia in
the Late Roman world.  

                                                                                                               
36 Pallas, PraktikaAE (1961), 154.

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