Music as a Medium of Oral Transmission in Jesus Communities

Music as a Medium of Communication

Before proceeding it is important to clarify what is meant by “music as a medium of communication.” What and how does music communicate? In broad terms music can be defined as “patterned sound characterized by the deliberate deployment and recognition of such acoustic features as tone, rhythm and melody” (Finnegan 2002: 73). This definition draws attention to the multi-modal dimensions of music: the descriptive markers “tone,” “rhythm,” and even to a certain degree “melody,” for example, are shared with spoken language. These similarities are particularly pronounced in Greek, which exhibits both meter (patterns of long and short syllables) and a melodic line described by the rise and fall of pitch accents (Winn: 5; West: 198; Lee & Scott). Plato remarked, “that which makes each of us a grammarian is the knowledge of the number and nature of sounds. … And it is this same knowledge which makes the musician (Phlb. 17b, Fowler). Dionysius of Halicarnasus similarly observed: “In oratory, as in music, the phrases possess melody, rhythm, variety, and appropriateness” (Comp. 11, Usher).

Despite these similarities, music and language differ as media of communication in (at least) two important ways. For Aristoxenus, what distinguished music from language was melody, for although language has a kind of melody constituted by word accents, he wrote, in music melody arises from movement by definite intervals (Harm. 1.18). Recent studies describe the difference in terms of “deep structure” versus “surface structure.” Flora Levine illustrates this with an example from music: The melody composed by Beethoven as a setting for Schiller's poem, Ode to Joy, is constructed at the level of deep structure on D–F#–A. Yet the unique melody that gives “meaning” to Beethoven's music cannot be extracted from this structure. It is found only in the surface details: the notes that make up the melodic line (Levin: 46; cf. Sloboda: 16, 52). Thus, although music can be analyzed at the level of “deep structure,” its power as a medium of communication resides at the “surface level.” This is to say that the “meaning” of music resides in its affective or aesthetic effect, rather than in its grammatical (deep) structure.

This leads to a second difference between music and language. Although language and music both serve social aims, “language organizes social action while music organizes sociality” [emphasis added] (Cross & Woodruff: 93). “Language,” according to Ian Cross and Ghofur Eliot Woodruff, “has the capacity to express unambiguous, semantically decomposable propositions; music lacks this capacity displaying a consistent ambiguity” (93). It is this ambiguity, they argue, that makes music a preferred medium of communication in situations of social uncertainty. Where words tend to escalate or destabilize a given social situation, music can function as a stabilizing force (79). This is achieved by employing a particular musical expression (signal structure) to achieve an anticipated signal outcome (often described as an affective state or emotion) (Ibid.: 93). Those who participate (actively or passively) in a musical activity engage in a continual process of mutual adjustment so that the timing of their corporate actions and sounds are brought into alignment (Ibid.: 88). This produces an experience of shared identity and purpose, but at an ambiguous level because it does not require mutual assent to a semantic proposition (Ibid.: 79).

When words and music are combined as song, the result is a distinctive communicative medium that is neither wholly words nor wholly music. Jocelyn Penny Small, drawing on the work of Wanda Wallace, observes “melody contributes more than just rhythmical information. Music is a rich structure that chunks words and phrases, identifies line lengths, identifies stress patterns, and adds emphasis as well as focuses listeners on surface characteristics” (76; see also Cross & Woodruff: 9–10) In this way, music exerts a rhetorical force on the words of song and shapes how they are heard. John Sloboda, writing about Roman song, goes further and suggests that the combination of words and music creates a unique mnemonic framework “within which humans can express, by the temporal organization of sound and gesture, the structure of their knowledge and social relations” (267). The result, he says, is that songs have the capacity to effect social reproduction and serve to unite and define social groupings (158, 266). It is this capacity to which Plato appeals when he cautions: “A change to a new type of music is something to beware of as a hazard of all our fortunes. For the modes of music are never disturbed without unsettling of the most fundamental political and social conventions, as Damon affirms and as I am convinced” (Rep. 4.424C [LCL Shorey]).

Music and Tradition

I begin with the assumption that some verbal traditions that arose within or were taken over by Jesus communities were transmitted through music. My question, simply put, is “What difference does music make?” Consequently I focus primarily on the function of music rather than the verbal content of the traditions. A second question is, “What can we learn about the transmission of oral traditions in Jesus communities through an examination of an oral and aural medium of communication, music? A limitation, with respect to both questions, is our lack of access to the music itself. Perhaps as more fragments of musical notation are uncovered it will be possible to make tentative exploration of this avenue, but that is beyond my scope here. I concentrate on the social impact of music, drawing on the evidence of literary (rather than material) remains.

The period that I focus on is the first century ce. This is, unquestionably, the most problematic century with respect to the topic since much of what we know about music in Jesus communities is found in sources dating to the third century and following. I aim earlier, however, for the simple reason that I am interested in the period of origins when identity and the traditions that sustain identity are at an incipient stage, and the spoken word has not yet been supplanted by the written word as the voice of authority. I do not exclude altogether writings from the second century, but they are treated as supplementary rather than primary. While my focus is on music in Jesus communities, there is no music that can be identified as exclusive to these communities. Therefore I draw on texts and examples that locate Jesus communities within the complex cross-cultural contexts in which they emerged.

Vocal Music in Jesus Communities

It will be helpful to begin with an overview of where the vocabulary of ‘song’ and ‘to sing’ occurs in the New Testament. References in the Gospels are limited to three contexts.

To these may be added a single reference in the Acts of the Apostles, which describes Paul and Silas praying and singing hymns to God (humnein) while in jail (Acts 16:25). Hans Conzelmann notes that “singing hymns of praise” was a common motif in the “prison release” narrative types, citing as examples Epictetus (“And then we shall be emulating Socrates, when we are able to write paeans in prison” [2.6.26]) and the Testament of Joseph (“When I was in fetters, the Egyptian woman was overtaken with grief. She came and heard the report how I gave thanks to the Lord and sang praise in the house of darkness” [8.5]) (132). Although a literary device, the context is not improbable and the texts cited by Conzelmann demonstrate that the ‘prison release’ motif is shared cross-culturally. In context, singing is a ritualized act performed in anticipation of a social transition through release from prison. Although no content is given, the hymns are described as directed towards God. Acts adds that “the prisoners were listening to them” (v. 26). This clearly furthers the writer's intent to describe the irrepressible spread of the gospel, but it also indirectly points to one way in which verbal and musical traditions were transmitted orally/aurally. Paul and Silas sing for themselves, but also so that others will hear them.

A very few references to singing and song are found among the letters associated with Paul. In 1 Corinthians, Paul says that when the community gathers together, “each one has a hymn (psalmos), a lesson, a revelation, a tongue, or an interpretation” (14:26) and urges that these be offered for the building up of the community rather than for a display of spiritual gifts: “I will pray with the spirit, but I will pray with the mind also; I will sing praise (psallein) with the spirit, but I will sing praise (psallein) with the mind also.” The context of these gatherings is, at least sometimes, a meal (1 Cor 11:20) and the setting most probably a house church (1 Cor 16:19; Col 4:15; Phl 1:2). These verses raise several questions: Did the individuals sing in solo performance (“each one”), engage those gathered in responsorial singing, or introduce a hymn for all those gathered to sing? And what did they sing? Was it a hymn known by the community? A hymn that had been composed by the individual? Or was it a hymn that was improvised in the moment “with the spirit”? A passage from the Testament of Job (48:1–50:2) describes a scene that may correspond to that in 1 Corinthians: the daughters of Job are described speaking in an angelic dialect, sending up a hymn to God (humnon/humnoi [48:3; 49:3]). William Sheppard Smith would also include glossolalia (“a tongue” [1 Cor 14:26]) under the heading of “music” and cites as evidence passages from Augustine (En. In Ps. 99:4) and Jerome (Brev. In Ps. 32) who both speak of utterances that lack words, but which express joy (42).

Parallel passages in Colossians (3:16) and Ephesians (5:19–20) encourage the singing (adein) of psalms (psalmoi), hymns (humnoi) and spiritual songs (ōdai pneumatikai). Although three different words are employed for “song,” it is not possible to assign distinctive forms or characteristics to them; studies show that the nouns (ōdoi, humnoi, psallmoi) and their verbal counterparts adein, humnein, psallein) are used more or less interchangeably for songs of praise. For example, all three words are used in reference to psalms in the Septuagint (62. n. 12); Philo, refers to psalms as asmata or humnoi rather than as psalmoi (see, e.g., Agr. 51, 54; Gig. 17; Plant. 29; Conf. 39; Migr. 147) (J.A. Smith 1994; W.S. Smith: 61–65). Unclear, also, is what is referenced by ‘spiritual songs’ (Col 3:16; Eph 5:19), whether this is speaking in an angelic dialect or glossolalia. In Ephesians singing is described as an expression of thanksgiving (eucharistountes) and in Colossians as an expression of gratitude (chariti). No setting or context is suggested (worship? some other gathering of the community?) although it is interesting to note that both of these verses occur just prior to passages ordering relationships in the household (Col 3:18–4:1; Eph 5:21–6:9). The language of the texts is ambiguous and could refer either to communal singing or singing by individuals.

In the letter of James, anyone (tis) who is cheerful is encouraged to sing songs of praise (psallein) (5:13). No specific setting or context is connected with this exhortation; the use of the third person singular imperative indicates that individuals (as opposed to a group) are in view. A similar statement is found in Philo who remarks, “But occasions often arise which ill accord with silence and call for speech in song (ōdas) or prose (rēseis), … Suppose some portion of good has fallen to us unexpectedly. It is well then to give thanks and hymn (humnēsai) the sender” (Somn. 2.268, Colton; see also Spec. 11:209). James stands apart from the Pauline letters in that the writer identifies the assembly as a “synagogue” (2:2). Ralph Martin notes that nowhere in the New Testament is “synagogue” used in reference to a church or distinctly “Christian” assembly (61). James McKnight, however, proposes that the community may have “borrowed” the language of synagogue, citing evidence from a later period where such borrowing occurs (183). It appears to be, in any event, a community of Jesus followers whose identity is aligned with this Jewish social institution. It cannot be assumed, however, that the singing takes place in the synagogue. Rather, what is emphasized is the occasion marked by cheerfulness.

Finally, there are three references to singing in Revelation. The setting here is a vision of John of Patmos in which he beholds twenty-four elders in the heavenly court singing (adein) a ‘new song (ōdē)’ (5:9; 14:3), as well as the song (ōdē) of Moses and the song (ōdē) of the lamb (15:3), before the throne of God. The context is clearly one of worship. The elders are said to hold kithara (erroneously translated as ‘harps’; rather, they are lyres, which consist of two crossbars [West: 51–56]). These instruments were employed in ritual contexts, including the Temple in Jerusalem (Braun: 14; J. A. Smith 2011: 44–48, 69, 79–80). Their presence here may be intended to evoke worship in the Temple (W. S. Smith: 45, 132). This is the only setting where singing is depicted, and it is clearly communal. Since it is a vision, however, it is difficult to know what resemblance this may have to an actual setting.

Apart from words that specifically refer to songs or singing, there are “cues” that may point to singing, such as the acclamations “amen” (1 Cor 14:6; Rev 5:14), “amen alleluia” (Rev 19:4) and “come Lord Jesus” (Rev. 22:20) or maranatha (1 Cor 16:22; cf. Did. 10:6) (W. S. Smith: 67–71; Werner 1984: 263–70). A late second century document, the Acts of John, offers a depiction of responsorial singing that employs the acclamation ‘amen’. In the scene Jesus instructs those gathered to form a circle, holding one another's hands; as he begins to sing the writer says “we circled round him and answered him ‘Amen’” (94), a response that follows each line in the hymn.

In addition, there are passages that are commonly identified as hymns: for example, Luke 1:46–46 (“Magnificat”), 68–79 (“Benedictus”); 2:29–32 (“Nunc Dimittis”); John 1:1–17; Phil 2:6–11; Col 1:15–20; 2 Tim 2:11b–13. None of these is described as being sung (leading J. A. Smith to wonder whether they give any indication at all about the nature of singing in Jesus communities [1994: 13–14]). Luke 2:28 does describe Simeon as ‘praising’ God (eulogein rather than ainein), but whether this means ‘speaking’ or ‘singing’ is unclear. Since songs are often in praise of a person or deity, the language of ‘praise’ could refer to something that is either sung or spoken. The confusion is compounded by passages where the language of speaking and the language of singing are used together: e.g., “and they sing (adousin) a new song (ōdēn kainēn) saying (legontes)” (Rev 5:9; see also 5:13; Eph 5:19). Harry Gamble asserts that no clear distinction was drawn between singing and speaking in antiquity (225), but this is to go too far. The passage from Philo, quoted above, clearly distinguishes between them (see also Aristoxenus, Harm. 1.18; Quintilian, Ints. 11.3.57; cf. Page [62]).

These few references from the New Testament offer only the broadest outline of vocal music in Jesus communities. Those in the Gospels invite us to recognize ways in which members of Jesus communities continued to participate in local cultural practices, by reason of the way in which these practices are simply assumed. This is potentially a fruitful line of inquiry, particularly for exploring the relationship between music and the transmission of tradition. It is not, however, what I pursue here. My focus is on music in relation specifically to traditions that are emerging in Jesus communities. For this we must focus on Acts, the letters and Revelation. Here we learn that songs are sung both in and outside of worship, and that what was sung is consistently described as some manner of “praise to God.” What is perhaps most surprising are the references to singing by individuals in the midst of the gathered community. This cautions against a default assumption that the singing was necessarily by the group as a whole.

If we move outside the New Testament and into the early half of the 2^nd century ce, no new information is added, but there is consistency. Pliny the Younger, in his oft quoted letter to Trajan, says that the Christians gather to sing a hymn among themselves (this could also mean alternating among individuals) (Ep. 10.96.7). A reference is made to collective singing in the Odes of Solomon (4:1–2) and to singing by an individual (16:1–2). Justin Martyr speaks of offering hymns to God for creation (Apol. 1.13); more significant is that later in the same document, he describes a service of the Eucharist in which there is no mention of singing (Apol. 1.67) (J. A. Smith 2011: 174–78). Inside and outside the New Testament, this collection of verses is not much to go on, but it may be sufficient to offer a way in.

Vocal Music in Context

A common assumption has been that Jesus communities adopted and adapted for their own purposes the music of the synagogue. Representative of this view would be Eric Werner, who writes in The Interpreter's Dictionary of the Bible: “Indeed, all evidence points to the chant and music of the primitive church as practically identical with the customs and traditions of the synagogue.” Yet descriptions of the Sabbath service in Philo and Josephus make no mention of music; only to the reading of scripture followed by an exposition on the reading (Hypoth. 7.13; Prob. 9.57–59 [the Essenes]; Josephus, C. Ap. 2.17). Indeed, J. A. Smith, observes “… no contemporary sources make any mention of singing in the ancient synagogue during the first and second centuries” (1984: 5). This evidence extends even to the Psalms. “Mishnaic references to the singing of psalms are concerned with either the domestic Passover ritual (Pēsāhîm 9.3) or with the services in the Temple prior to its destruction in 70 ce (Bikûrîm iii.4; Pēsāhîm v.7; Sukâ v.4; Tāmîd vii.4; Midôt ii.5)” (J.A. Smith 1984: 6; see also McKinnon 1986). This is consistent with what is described in Matt 15:26 and Mark 26:30. First century sources indicate that the synagogue service consisted of prayer, scripture reading and a discourse on the reading. This is the model followed in Luke–Acts’ description of the synagogue (Luke 4:16–21; Acts 13:14–41); it is not, however, what is described in 1 Corinthians 14, the only first-century description we have of worship in Jesus communities. Among the several ways this description differs from synagogue worship, it differs most particularly because it does include vocal music.

If Jesus communities did not adopt the practice of singing songs at their gatherings from the synagogue, whence did this practice arise? A close parallel to the Jesus communities is found in Philo's description of the Therapeutae, a voluntary community in which celibate men and women lived together in community. This community gathered at regular intervals for communal meals. The meals were preceded by a reading from scripture and a discourse on the passage, but also by singing.

After supper, they divide into two choirs:

Several aspects of this scene bear resemblance to what we know of Jesus communities: singing takes place in the context of a meal, both men and women join together in the singing, hymns are composed by members of the community, and they are sung by individuals as well as the community.

In the dominant Greco-Roman cultural context singing took place in the context of voluntary associations, here again, sometimes with meals. These associations were created around ethnic, geographic, occupational, and devotional interests (Meeks: 78; Harland: 25–53). As in Jesus communities, family networks and structures played a key role in the formation of membership in the associations (Harland: 30–31). Philip Harland, drawing on extensive archaeological evidence, notes that religious practices played a significant role in of virtually all such associations (62; Wilson). These may have included a practice associated with symposia at which a libation was offered to one or more gods followed by the singing of hymns, a ritualized act that constituted the identity and allegiances of the gathered (Taussig: 109). Plutarch provides this description:

The gatherings of Jesus communities, called ekklēsiai (“gatherings” [BDAG: 303]), except in James, bore a distinct resemblance to the voluntary communities and associations described above. In these contexts the singing of songs played an important role in establishing and re-enforcing the identity of those gathered by providing a mnemonic framework “within which humans [could] express … the structure of their knowledge and social relations (Sloboda: 267). Thomas Habinek speaks of this in terms of “inscribing activity” and “incorporating practice” (158). I explore each of these in turn below.

Incorporating Practices

Habinek identifies song, specifically, as an incorporating practice through which communities transmit memory and reproduce identity (158–59). One of the several ways that song served this “incorporating” function in Jesus communities was in the way it was transmitted. In the first century, the primary means of transmitting song was through human interaction, unmediated by scribal notation (Sloboda: 243–44). This may be to state the obvious, but as an incorporating practice, it is important. Because music was principally an oral/aural medium of communication access was not based on the ability to use technology (such as writing or reading), nor was it mediated through a reader. Rather, it was based on interaction between persons. As each member of the community learned songs from another, it created a network of relationships and established a collective memory or “canon” that served as the foundation for their collective identity (Connerton: 102).

In terms of the performance of music in early Jesus communities, we encounter no restrictions in terms of gender, age, or status. Presuming the Therapeutae, voluntary associations, and symposia may serve in some way as models, anyone among those gathered could perform, participate in or initiate singing, although an order of precedence might pertain. In terms of the transmission of tradition, this means that anyone could serve as an active or passive bearer of tradition. There is nothing to suggest, for example, that songs were transmitted by the apostles, or “eyewitnesses.” This places “song” outside debates that have arisen with respect to the transmission of spoken oral tradition: i.e., to what degree was it controlled by “eyewitnesses,” and to what degree was it a product of the community (see, e.g., Bauckham; Wire). In contrast to the spoken word, song served an incorporating effect by maximizing participation.

Among the ways the community participated in song was through rhythm. For the Greeks, rhythm was necessary to enliven and give character to melody (West: 129; Ps.-Arist., Pr. 19.49). It was something “palpable, something heard and felt” (J. Porter: 75; Aristoxenus, Rhy. 2.5–6). West remarks that the ancients often beat time to the music, clapping their hands or tapping their feet (133; Quintilian, Inst. 1.12.3). The Therapeutae, also, are described using their hands and feet to keep time to the music, engaging even in “the wheeling and counter-wheeling of a choric dance” (Philo, Somn. 84). In the Acts of John, also, some kind of dance movement is implied by those gathered forming a circle and the reference to “dance” within the hymn (94–95). This ‘keeping time’, assert Cross and Woodruff, does more than coordinate action; it helps to activate a sense of shared identity in a visceral way (88). It also, writes Jocelyn Penny Small, plays an integral role in the construction of memory:

Although later writers criticized the use of such movements while singing hymns (see, e.g. Theodoret of Cyrus Haereticarum fabularum compendium 4.7), there does not appear to have been a concern at this early date.

The importance of rhythm is observable in ancient Greek musical scores, in which unity is achieved, Charles Cosgrove writes, by means of a rhythmic regularity that establishes a “background of familiarity against which melodic variety is imposed as a foreground” (107). M. L. West similarly observes, “there is little repetition of phrases; the composers seem to be always finding new paths through their scales” (194). What this suggests is that some level of improvisation was valued. This may be reflected in passages such as this from the Odes of Solomon: “I rested on the Spirit of the Lord and she raised me up to heaven … where I continued praising [him] by composition of his odes” (36:1–2) or from Judith “raise to God a new song” (16:1). It may be intimated, also in, 1 Corinthians 14:16 and in the description of the Therapeutae. Noted folklorist Ruth Finnegan has observed that in oral expressions the performer assumes a creative role, not simply perpetuating tradition but also reinterpreting and synthesizing it with the result that is characterized precisely by its variability (1988: 69). This is yet another way in which music functions as an incorporating practice. Because participants are a part of an ongoing creative process, either through improvisation or as a part of the community responding to the old as it is being created anew, they are actively engaged in the shaping of what may become a part of a community's “canon” of tradition.

Inscribing Activity

Habinek identifies song also as an “inscribing activity” that transmits memories and texts (158). The hymn texts in the New Testament consistently praise the acts of God, and sometimes, in particular, those acts performed through and in relation to Jesus. This capacity to “self-define” would have been particularly important for a voluntary group attempting to distinguish and maintain its identity within the dominant culture (whether that “culture” is Greco-Roman or a religion, Judaism, or both). Hymns and songs would also have provided a socially acceptable way of doing this. Because singing hymns was a shared practice in Greco-Roman cultural and religious practice, as well as Judaism, the singing of hymns in Jesus communities enabled people from diverse social or ethnic contexts to participate in a familiar activity, using familiar forms, to achieve a culturally shared and recognizable end: praise of a god, in this case the God of Israel and Jesus Christ.

Habinek assigns to religious songs a distinctive capacity that pertains to their function as an ‘inscribing activity’. On the one hand, he states, the shift to song “corresponds to or anticipates a shift from everyday life to ritualized conviviality within [a] dramatic framework” (45). Conversely, he observes that song has the capacity to be dislodged from ritual “time out of time,” and modified in correspondence with changing historical circumstances; that this is “embedded in the very content and style of the ritual song” (25). I suggest that we see an example of something like this in one of the ‘hymns’ recorded in Revelation (15:3–4). While we cannot be certain that the hymns in the literary texts we have inherited were actually sung (I am not as cautious as J.A. Smith in this regard), I believe we can assume that they bear some resemblance—sufficient, at least, to illustrate what Habinek describes.

Revelation 15:3 describes a scene in which those gathered before the throne of God sing “the song of Moses (tēn ōdēn Mōuseōs), servant of God” and “the song of the Lamb” (tēn ōdēn tou arniou). The ascription ‘Song of Moses’ can refer to one of two hymns attributed to Moses that are recorded in Exodus 15:1–18 and Deuteronomy 31:30–32:43 (see also Ps 90). This ascription reveals a double layer of “tradition” at work here. One layer is the tradition that says Moses composed songs. Josephus, in his Antiquities of the Jews, adds a Hellenistic touch, saying that Moses composed the song to God (the context indicates this is the song in Exodus) in hexameter verse (2:346). Thackery proposes that Josephus may have been familiar with such compositions based on these biblical texts (Ant 1:622). A second layer of tradition pertains to the content of the song(s). It is perhaps debatable whether the song(s) circulated orally before being written down, or were composed as written texts. Regardless, there is some evidence to suggest that the songs, or variant forms of them, were transmitted orally over several generations. Two versions of a story associating this song with the mother and her seven sons who are martyred by Antiochus during the Maccabean revolt are recorded in 2 and 4 Maccabees. 2 Maccabees 7:6 says that the brothers and their mother encouraged one another with the words of Moses’ song, while in 4 Maccabees 18:18 the mother of the seven sons reminds them of how their father taught them the song of Moses. In this instance, both texts appear to be referring to the version found in Deuteronomy. Even if literary inventions, these stories suggest that the “Song of Moses” was persistent in the collective memory of the community, recalling and celebrating a time of victory and vindication through God's judgment. This persistence is reflected also in the many references to the “Song of Moses” in Philo (Leg. 2:102, 103; Ebr. 111; Agr. 94 [the Exodus text]; Agr. 3:105 [the Deuteronomy text]).

Turning to Revelation, Elisabeth Schüssler Fiorenza has observed that there is little in the way of a literary relationship between the contents of the song in Revelation 15:3–4 and the songs in either Exodus or Deuteronomy (135); rather, the song in Revelation 15:3–4 is a pastiche of verses and phrases drawn from across the Old Testament (Ps 111:2; 139:14; Amos 4:13; Ps 145:17; Deut 32:4; Jer 10:7; Ps. 86:9; Mal 1:11; Ps 98:2) (Harrington: 159). Nonetheless, the references to victory and judgment in Revelation 15:3–4 link this text thematically with the songs of Moses in Exodus and Deuteronomy (Ibid: 792–93; Aune 1998: 872; Harrington: 159). As an aside, this raises the interesting possibility that the Oral-Formulaic Theory of Parry-Lord (later modified by John Miles Foley), which has not served well for analysis of biblical prose as oral tradition, might turn out to be a helpful way of analyzing hymn texts.

Both Aune and Beale propose that the phrase “the Song of Moses … and the song of [about] the Lamb” should be understood as referring to a single song rather than two (Aune: 873; Beale: 792). What we have, then, is a traditional song that has been dislodged from ritual “time out of time,” and modified in correspondence with the changing historical circumstances of the community for whom the song constitutes “memory.” In doing so, the community effectively brings into alignment two historical experiences separated in time (see Zerubavel: 3–9; Valensi).

Conclusions

I have attempted to explore in a programmatic way two questions:

Because of the ways in which music overlaps with the spoken word in its multi-modal dimensions, it takes a certain amount of imagination to “hear” the differences between them. They both possess rhythm and melody. They differ, however, in how they deploy these resources. In music, rhythm plays a larger role, giving melody its distinctive shape. As expressed through melody, it has a visceral effect, enhancing music's capacity as an incorporative practice. Although the spoken word may possess a lyrical quality, its meaning resides at the level of deep structure, whereas in music, meaning is expressed through the surface structure. Put simply, the meaning of music is primarily affective. In this respect it stands in contrast to the propositional nature of language. The result is that it has a distinct capacity as a medium of communication to organize sociality, particularly in situations of social uncertainty. It is particularly effective, then, in incorporating a sense of shared identity and even purpose within communities.

These distinctions become somewhat blurred when music becomes, specifically, song. Yet it is not just a matter of words being set to melody. Melody and rhythm assert an influence over words, creating a “rich structure that chunks words and phrases, identifies line lengths, identifies stress patterns, and adds emphasis as well as focuses listeners on surface characteristics” (Small: 76). This effect is difficult for us to recover in the absence of musical notation. There are, however, fragments that can be consulted. And, at the very least, it invites far more careful attention to the rhythmic and sound patterns that are part and parcel of koiné and classical Greek (Lee & Scott).

In terms of the second question, attention to “music as a medium of communication” should alert us that oral transmission took more than one form. Music, in particular, draws attention to how the transmission of tradition functions as an incorporating practice; it also cautions that different oral media function differently in this regard. What we can reconstruct with respect to song suggests that this form of oral transmission was particularly “democratic.” It maximized participation in transmission and performance. There is little evidence, at this very early stage, of efforts at control. Although this essay was limited to exploring music as song, it draws attention to the variety of expressive forms that are available within a single “medium of communication.” With respect to music, improvisation seems to have been valued as both an incorporating practice and an inscribing activity. This invites questions into how different expressive forms in other oral media function as incorporating practices and inscribing activities. There is also the matter of who has access to the medium and in what ways. Perhaps surprising, with respect to music, is the degree to which songs were presented in solo performance. The word “solo,” however, can be deceptive. There were interactive dimensions—for example, in the form of responsorial singing or rhythmic accompaniment. All of these suggest that multi-modal analyses of these different forms of media could prove productive for understanding how they function as ancient communication systems.