Paul and Epictetus on Law: A Comparison 9780567661005, 9780567074393

Citation preview

Acknowledgements During the several years I spent writing this book, many people generously offered me their help. Professor Emeritus Heikki Räisänen (Helsinki) encouraged me to start this job and counselled me wisely. Professors Ismo Dunderberg (Helsinki) and Troels Engberg-Pedersen (Copenhagen) read the manuscript and made several important comments. Ms Laura Keeler has patiently corrected my English language errors. The Department of Biblical Studies of the University of Helsinki and its staff have supported me in many ways. Many thanks to all of you. I am grateful to Professor John Barclay (Durham) for accepting this work for publication in the series Early Christianity in Context. The staff of T&T Clark have kindly advised me throughout the editing process. Omistan tämän kirjan Tarjalle ja Liinalle. Thanks to God for the many reasons to give thanks. Niko Huttunen Helsinki January 2009

Abbreviations AB ABD ANRW ASNU BZ BZAW BZNW CBET DNP DSD EKKNT EvQ FRLANT HNT HUT ICC JSNT JSNTSup KEK LCL LNTS NICNT NovT NovTSup NTAbh NTD NTF NTOA NTS PFES QD RAC SBL SBLDS SCHNT SNTSMS SVF THKNT TQ TSAJ TU

Anchor Bible Anchor Bible Dictionary Aufstieg und Niedergang der römischen Welt: Geschichte und Kultur Roms im Spiegel der neueren Forschung Acta seminarii neotestamentici upsaliensis Biblische Zeitschrift Beihefte zur Zeitschrift für die alttestamentliche Wissenschaft Beihefte zur Zeitschrift für die neutestamentliche Wissenschaft Contributions to Biblical Exegesis and Theology Der neue Pauly: Enzyklopädie der Antike Dead Sea Discoveries Evangelisch-katholischer Kommentar zum Neuen Testament Evangelical Quarterly Forschungen zur Religion und Literatur des Alten und Neuen Testaments Handbuch zum Neuen Testament Hermeneutische Untersuchungen zur Theologie International Critical Commentary Journal for the Study of the New Testament Journal for the Study of the New Testament, Supplement Series Kritisch-exegetischer Kommentar über das Neue Testament Loeb Classical Library Library of New Testament Studies New International Commentary on the New Testament Novum Testamentum Novum Testamentum Supplements Neutestamentliche Abhandlungen Das Neue Testament Deutsch Neutestamentliche Forschungen Novum Testamentum et orbis antiquus New Testament Studies Publications of the Finnish Exegetical Society Quaestiones disputatae Reallexikon für Antike und Christentum Society of Biblical Literature Society of Biblical Literature Dissertation Series Studia ad corpus hellenisticum Novi Testamenti Society for New Testament Studies Monograph Series Stoicorum Veterum Fragmenta Theologischer Handkommentar zum Neuen Testament Theologische Quartalschrift Texte und Studien zum antiken Judentum Texte und Untersuchungen

x TZ WBC WTS WUNT ZNW ZTK

Abbreviations Theologische Zeitschrift Word Biblical Commentary Wijsgerige teksten en studies Wissenschaftliche Untersuchungen zum Neuen Testament Zeitschrift für die neutestamentliche Wissenschaft Zeitschrift für Theologie und Kirche

Chapter 1 On Applying the Stoic Perspective to Paul and the Law 1.1. An Alternative Approach to an Old Problem Take a look at the exegetical libraries, and you will find one author after another dealing with Paul and the law: Dunn, Hübner, Räisänen, Sanders – just to mention a few. Until now the discussions on Paul and the law have taken it for granted that the background of Paul’s thinking is Jewish, especially Palestinian Jewish. E. P. Sanders’s book Paul and Palestinian Judaism (1977) gave rise to discussion on so-called covenantal nomism and the ‘new perspective’ on Paul, and there are extensive works which have been inspired by Sanders. Many works also include surveys of Jewish writings.1 When reading these contributions I cannot avoid the feeling of a stabilized war, where no attack leads to a breakthrough. The ‘new perspective’ is questioned by the ‘newer perspective’,2 but the discussion still remains on the themes introduced by Sanders. Since his study scholars have discussed whether Paul’s thinking is so much coloured by covenantal nomism that the ‘Lutheran’ interpretation of the contradiction between ‘grace’ and ‘works of law’ is totally wrong.3 After this debate of 30 years on Paul’s Jewishness, it is time to find an alternative approach. That is what I will present in this book. Sanders’s results are indispensable and, generally speaking, they are accepted. Naturally, there are variations between scholars, but the basic lines are not seriously questioned. Today it is commonplace to say that Paul was a Jew whose religious background was covenantal nomism. Now it is time to take a step further. Who says that Paul’s background consists of only Palestinian 1. E.g., Das (2001) and the compiled works edited by Avemarie and Lichtenberger (1996) and by Carson, O’Brien and Seifrid (2001–2004). Judaism was, of course, taken into account also before Sanders, e.g., in Davies’ Paul and Rabbinic Judaism first published in 1948. A comprehensive overview of the exegetical industry in this field is given by Stephen Westerholm in his book Perspectives Old and New on Paul (2004). See also Westerholm (2008). 2. E.g., A. Andrew Das is a spokesman of the ‘newer perspective’ (see Das 2003: 12 and 14). 3. This discussion, by the way, is somewhat odd as the ‘Lutheran’ interpretation is something other than Luther’s views (Saarinen 2006 and 2008). ‘Lutheran’ is more or less an abstraction as Westerholm overtly indicates by writing it in quotation marks.

2

Paul and Epictetus on Law

Judaism? No one, of course. If he was born in Tarsus, as it is claimed in Acts (21.39; 22.3), he was born as a diaspora Jew. Later he had close contacts with gentiles as demonstrated in his epistles written in Greek. At least since Martin Hengel’s profound study Judaism and Hellenism – originally published in German in 1969 – we have been aware of the deep influence of Greco-Roman culture in Palestinian Judaism. If this is true of Pal­ estinian Judaism – as it seems to be – how deeply must have diaspora Judaism been influenced by its gentile context?4 Philo is a well-known example of a diaspora Jew. He interpreted nearly everything in philosophical terms, including the Torah. This was the case with many other diaspora Jews, as Reinhard Weber shows in his recent study on law among diaspora Jews (2000).5 These facts have not led scholars to study Paul’s sayings on law from the Greco-Roman point of view.6 While the Jewish diaspora is less considered, the gentile texts are – with few exceptions – ignored. This scholarly gap exists despite many recent studies on Paul in the Greco-Roman context, such as The Corinthian Body by Dale B. Martin (1995) and Paul and the Stoics by Troels Engberg-Pedersen (2000). We cannot think a priori that Paul’s treatment of law is somehow immune to the Greco-Roman context in which he worked. On the contrary, the assumption should be that Paul’s sayings on law – like any other thing he said – were uttered under the influence of the Greco-Roman context. I am not denying Paul’s Jewish background. It is true that there are a lot of passages in his letters which cannot be understood without a knowledge of the Judaism of his time. We cannot erase references to Jewish Scriptures from his epistles. But there is something we should keep in mind, by which I mean the Greco-Roman context. This is my purpose when I compare the sayings on law in Paul and in Epictetus, one of the most prominent gentile philosophers of the first centuries ce. Why have I chosen a gentile philosopher? Why not a diaspora Jew, such as Philo? A diaspora Jew may be closer to Paul in his thoughts than a gentile philosopher; a diaspora Jew would interpret the Scriptures; both believed in the same god, the God of Israel; both were Jews and both were … too similar. If we find similarities between Paul’s views of law and those of a diaspora Jew, what is the reason for that? The easy answer is their Jewish interest in the Torah, and quite soon we are back to the traditional discussion on Paul’s Jewish background. Such is not the case when Paul is compared to his gentile contemporaries. The similarities with a gentile cannot be traced back purely 4. Hengel’s book has also won criticism (e.g., Feldman 2006), but even the critics do not picture Judaism as a fully distinct feature. 5. See also Schwemer (1996) and Levinson (1996). There is also a modern interpretation of the Torah from the ancient philosophical, especially from the Stoic, point of view (Boersema 2001). 6. The gap in the scholarship is rarely even noticed. Two of the few exceptions are Jones (1987: 94) and Downing (1998: 57).



1.   On Applying the Stoic Perspective to Paul and the Law

3

to issues of Jewishness, but rather potentially indicate Paul’s Greco-Roman background. Epictetus, a Stoic philosopher, is a good representative of the intellectual milieu of the Mediterranean area in the first centuries ce. Stoicism was the philosophical koinē of that time, also known outside strictly philosophical circles, for example, in politics.7 Emperor Marcus Aurelius (121–180 ce) sought to live in accordance with its doctrines as manifested in his Meditations. But Stoic wisdom was also known to the lower ranks through Cynicism, a close relative of Stoicism.8 Thus, as Everett Ferguson puts it, ‘everything Stoicism had to say became common property’.9 Epictetus’ Stoic thoughts are, thus, a window into the intellectual milieu of that time. In Epictetus we meet something very characteristic of his age in a crystallized form. As a professional philosopher he was conscious of his philosophical tradition and principles, but he did not rely on them. He applied abstract thoughts to everyday matters. For Epictetus the aim of philosophizing was always practical life: ‘What a fine thing it is to be able to say to oneself, “Now I am actually performing what the rest talk solemnly about in their lectures, and are thought to be uttering paradoxes” ’ (Disc. 3.24.111). And all of that is presented in lively diatribe with concrete examples and vernacular expressions, ‘solecisms and barbarisms’, as he admits (Disc. 3.9.14). His language and style of expression come quite close to those of Paul, as noted by many scholars.10 Law is not Epictetus’ main theme, but what he says about it leads us to his main thoughts, which, as I claim, mirror the thought world of the first centuries ce. My task is to study his sayings on law and compare them with relevant passages in Paul’s epistles. I am not arguing that Stoicism gives the key to every Pauline passage on law, but I claim that there are several passages in which the Stoic view helps us to understand what Paul says. The Stoic colouring of Romans 1–2, as usually acknowledged, is not the only relevant case. Before we proceed to concrete Epictetan and Pauline passages and their comparison, I will present the Pauline and the Epictetan sources we can use, and the earlier studies concerning our subject matter. I will also consider methodology with a view to making controlled and balanced comparisons. 7. (MacMullen 1975: 47–8; Francis 1995: 1; Lee 2006: 200). 8. Zeno of Citium, the founder of Stoicism, was originally a pupil of the Cynic Crates (Diogenes Laertius 7.1.2–3). Roman Stoicism had close relations with Cynicism: Seneca had contacts with the Cynic Demetrius, and Epictetus with the Cynic Demonax (Pohlenz 1948: 279). Sometimes contemporaries had difficulties making a distinction between Stoics and Cynics (Cicero, Off. 1.128), which should not lead us to blur the distinction totally (Malherbe 1989: 11). The schools were not similar, but were related. 9. (Ferguson 1989: 293). 10. E.g., Bultmann (1984), Schmeller (1987), Stowers (1988), and Malherbe (1989: 25–33).

4

Paul and Epictetus on Law

1.2. Sources and Earlier Studies 1.2.1. Epictetus and His Texts The known facts about Epictetus’ earliest years are quite few. He was born in Hierapolis, a minor town in Phrygia, Asia Minor, about 50 ce. His mother was a slave. He was sold as a little boy, which is possibly the reason for his impersonal name. Epictetus is a Greek word that simply means ‘the purchased one’. Later he could be found in Rome as a slave of Epaphroditus, who was the Emperor Nero’s freedman and secretary. Slavery did not hinder Epictetus from studying philosophy under Musonius Rufus, the most distinguished Stoic philosopher of his time. After gaining his personal freedom Epictetus started to teach philosophy. Between 80 and 100 ce, Emperor Domitian banished him from Rome along with other philosophers, and Epictetus founded a school in Nicopolis which today is in Greece close to the Albanian border. He died between 120 and 140 ce.11 Epictetus achieved his fame during his decades in Nicopolis where his teaching attracted young men. One of them was Lucius Flavius Arrian (c.95–170), who studied some years under Epictetus during the first decades of the second century12 and who wrote down Epictetus’ teachings, which we now know under the title Discourses. Arrian also wrote Encheiridion, a summation of Epictetus’ thoughts. The philosopher himself did not write anything for publication though we customarily speak of Epictetus’ Discourses and Encheiridion as though he were the author. In a letter to a certain Lucius Gellius, Arrian wrote that ‘whatever I heard him say I used to write down, word by word’. He continued that the discourses were not aimed for a general audience, but had been published without his will or knowledge. Many have believed this claim of Arrian, while some are more critical.13 Anyway, this is a discussion on the authenticity of the words, not of the philosophy. The scholarly consensus is that Arrian correctly described Epictetus’ philosophy. Discourses does not contain introductory lessons on the fundamentals of Stoic philosophy. Discourses represents the practical side of Epictetus’ teaching: how to apply abstract philosophical theories to everyday life.14 The literal form of his practical teaching is quite free, as A. A. Long describes it. 11. On Epictetus’ life, see, e.g., Spanneut (1962: 599–600), Schenkl (1965: xv–xxxiii), Oldfather (1995: vii–xii), Dobbin (1998: xi–xiv), Long (2002: 10–11), and Nguyen (2008: 79–85). 12. (Hartmann 1905: 254; Schenkl 1965: xxvii–xxxii; Long 2002: 38; Nguyen 2008: 85–6). 13. Hartmann (1905: 257, 274), Stadter (1980: 26–28), Schmeller (1987: 163–67), Radt (1990: 364–68), and Oldfather (1995: xii–xiii) accept Arrian’s statement as such. Wirth (1967) sees Arrian’s contribution as decisive. Stellwag (1933: 7–16) and Dobbin (1998: xx–xxiii) believe that Epictetus himself wrote Discourses. Hershbell (1989: 2152–3) leaves the problem open. Cf. Nguyen (2008: 87–90). 14. (Long 2002: 38–66).



1.   On Applying the Stoic Perspective to Paul and the Law

5

The individual discourses are too diverse to fit a simple compositional formula, but, whether they are construed as monologues or as conversations between Epictetus and someone else, they are consistently dialectical or dialogical. What I mean is that Arrian has transmitted the discourses in a form that uses ‘I’ or ‘we’ and ‘you’ (singular or plural) throughout. From beginning to end the theme of most discourses is developed through a rapid interchange of questions and answers, interspersed with imperatives, short expositions, anecdotes, examples, and quotations. By speaking in this way, Epictetus involves his audience continuously. His questions are ways of getting them to interrogate themselves, and his responses or illustrations are equally designed to shatter complacency and effect a transformation of consciousness.15

According to the scholarly consensus, there were originally eight books in Dis­ courses, of which only the first four and some fragments have survived.16 Those four books are preserved in Oxford in a medieval (twelfth-century) manuscript, Codex Bodleianus Graecorum Miscellaneorum 251, abbreviated as S. All other manuscripts are copies of S. Fragments of the lost books of Discourses are preserved as quotations by other ancient authors.17 Besides Discourses, Arrian edited Encheiridion (or the Manual), a summary of Epictetus’ teaching preserved in many manuscripts. The manuscripts can be classified into two independent families. There are also Christian versions of Enchiridion.18 In modern times, Schenkl’s two editions of Discourses have been influential. The first edition was published in 1894 and the second in 1916 (reprinted 1965) with a concordance. Schenkl’s editions have influenced, for example, the edition produced by W. A. Oldfather (1925, 1928; often reprinted). Oldfather’s version is generally used in the scholarly literature. My study is largely based on Schenkl’s and Oldfather’s editions, though I deviate from some of their text-critical solutions.19

1.2.2. Studies on Epictetus In the late nineteenth century Adolf Bonhöffer published two immensely learned studies on Epictetus: Epictet und die Stoa: Untersuchungen zur stoischen Phil­ osophie (1890) and Die Ethik des Stoikers Epictet (1894). The former discusses Epictetus’ anthropology and psychology, the latter his ethics. Despite the age of these works, they are still valuable and worth consulting.20 Bonhöffer’s scholarly 15. (Long 2002: 61). 16. (Spanneut 1962: 601–3; Long 2002: 39–42). 17. (Souilhé 1943: lxxii–lxxxi; Schenkl 1965: liv–xciv) 18. For Encheiridion, see Boter (1999). 19. One can also mention Johannes Schweighäuser’s edition of Epictetan texts (1799–1800), the French edition of Discourses by Joseph Souilhé and Amand Jagu (1943–65), and Gerard Boter’s profound edition of Encheiridion (1999). The first printed version of Discourses and the Encheiridion together was published in 1535 (Sicherl 1993: 42–6). 20. Long (2002: 36) notes: ‘These classic works are indispensable for close study of Epi­ ctetus’ relation to the Stoic tradition’. The importance of Bonhöffer’s work is illustrated by the

6

Paul and Epictetus on Law

life-work aimed – as he said himself – to show that Epictetus’ Stoicism conformed with the philosophy of the early masters of the school such as Zeno and Chrysippus.21 Some scholars have criticized Bonhöffer for that – possibly rightly.22 Yet, this is not to deny his merits. After Bonhöffer, the first comprehensive study on Epictetus was A. A. Long’s Epictetus: A Stoic and Socratic Guide to Life (2002). Long emphasizes the originality of Epictetus’ teaching more than Bonhöffer did, although he does not deny the close relationship to the Stoic tradition. Long’s excellent book guides the reader to general foundations of Epictetus’ philosophy with rich references to further reading, while Bonhöffer’s studies concentrate on technical details. Besides the above-mentioned studies there are other useful studies from our point of view.23 First are the studies on how freedom is treated in Epictetus’ philosophy.24 Freedom is possibly the most important concept in Epictetus’ philosophy and it has also a connection to the concept of law. Second, some scholars analysed the figure of Socrates in Epictetus already before Long, who strongly underlines Socrates’ importance to Epictetus.25 We will see that Epi­ ctetus describes Socrates as one of the exemplary figures who fulfils law. Third, there are commentaries. The only commentary on all of Epictetus’ books was written by Johannes Schweighäuser (1799–1800). Commentaries on the first book of Discourses have been written by Helena Stellwag (1933) and Robert F. Dobbin (1998). Stellwag concentrates on Epictetus’ language and Dobbin on his philosophy. In addition, Margarethe Billerbeck has written a profound commentary on Disc. 3.22 (‘On Cynicism’) (1978).

1.2.3. Paul’s Texts and Studies on Paul and Law In studying Paul’s views on law my primary sources are his authentic epistles: Romans, First and Second Corinthians, Galatians, Philippians, First Thessalonians, and Philemon.26 Yet, in practice I deal mainly with Romans and First Corinthians which open up the best points for comparisons with Epictetus.26 fact that Die Ethik was translated into English as late as 1996 by William O. Stephens under the title The Ethics of the Stoic Epictetus. 21. (Bonhöffer 1912: 282). 22. (Billerbeck 1978: ix–x; Dobbin 1991: 125–6; Dobbin 1998: xiv–xviii; Bobzien 1998: 341–3; Long 2002: 36). 23. Practically all earlier studies on Epictetus are listed in Oldfather’s two bibliographies (1927, 1952). For studies after the 1950s, see Long’s (2002) lists for further reading. 24. (Schmitz 1923: 11–30; Barth 1950; Pohlenz 1955: 159–66; Nestle 1967: 120–35; Gretenkord 1981; Bobzien 1998: 330–57) See also Vollenweider (1989: 23–104), who deals with Epi­ ctetus among others. 25. (Schweingruber 1943; Döring 1979: 43–79) For Epictetus’ dependence on Plato, see Jagu (1946). 26. I do not enter the discussion on the criteria for authenticity and their application, but refer to the views of the scholarly majority as presented by Raymond E. Brown in his An Introduction to the New Testament (1997). Although Colossians and 2 Thessalonians are strong candidates



1.   On Applying the Stoic Perspective to Paul and the Law

7

As I said above, there are plenty of studies on Paul and law. Stephen Westerholm has described this richness of scholarly work in his Perspectives Old and New on Paul: The ‘Lutheran’ Paul and His Critics (2004). For my purposes it is enough to draw only a brief sketch, which is partly based on Westerholm’s history of research. Westerholm claims that the interpretation of Paul and law is always a wrestling with the so-called ‘Lutheran’ interpretation, the contradiction between justification by works of law and justification by faith.27 Rudolf Bultmann thought that justification by works of law is a typical Jewish religious conviction which is commonly called legalism. Legalism was not originally Bultmann’s idea, but he expressed it influentially.28 According to Bultmann, Jews try to earn their salvation by fulfilling the law, but this is a perversion since the outward fulfilment of law makes Jews boast. They are not humble subjects of God, which is the main aim of the law. In contrast, a Christian totally surrenders himself or herself into the hands of God, and therefore faith fulfils the law. The aim of the law is not reached by works of law but by faith.29 A remarkable change took place when Sanders published Paul and Palestin­ ian Judaism (1977) and Paul, the Law, and the Jewish People (1983). Sanders questioned the picture of Judaism as a legalistic religion and saw legalism as ‘the creative work of nineteenth-century Protestant scholars’ that has no actual grounds in Judaism.30 He described Judaism as a religion of grace, based on the idea that the covenant between God and his people is grounded in God’s grace. Obeying the law is needed only to stay in the covenant, not to enter into it. Sanders argues that this covenantal nomism is analogous to Paul’s reasoning: Christians are elected by God’s grace into the covenant. Yet they have to live in accordance with the will of God in order to stay within the covenant. Naturally, this analogy has its limits. According to Sanders, Paul saw that Christian conduct does not flow from obedience to commandments but from the Spirit. If Paul’s reasoning is analogical to that seen in Judaism, why, then, did Paul deny the significance of the law? Sanders’s answer is his theory of ‘from solution to plight’. Paul was convinced that Jesus Christ was the only way to salvation. This conviction denied other means of salvation like the law. Paul’s picture of the plight under the law is a result of reasoning, not an adequate description of Judaism or Paul’s own experience as a Jew. Paul’s legalistic picture of Judaism is unhistorical. for authentic epistles, Brown (1997: 610–17) reports that 60 per cent of scholars take Colossians as inauthentic (see also Leppä 2003: 10–11). Brown (1997: 596) also reports that most scholars regard 2 Thessalonians as inauthentic. 27. Westerholm does not use word ‘Lutheran’ in a denominational sense, but as a theological construction which takes the mentioned contradiction as central (Westerholm 2004: xvii). 28. For legalism in biblical scholarship, see Tyson (1999: 220–8). 29. (Westerholm 2004: 150–4). 30. (Sanders 1999: 281–6).

8

Paul and Epictetus on Law

Sanders’s views are hotly debated as Westerholm describes. Sanders’s critics have tried to prove that Judaism had its legalistic strains. For instance, A. Andrew Das (2001) does not wholly refute Sanders’s picture of Judaism, but tries to show legalistic features in Judaism. Das maintains that Paul’s picture of Judaism is not as unhistorical as Sanders argues. Das deals with the focal point in research after Sanders: was Judaism legalistic or is covenantal nomism a better characterization of Judaism? In other words, did Paul picture Judaism accurately or not?31 This is a reasonable question. At the same time we should keep in mind Paul’s audience when studying his sayings on law. They were not rabbis, not Palestinian Jews, mostly not even diaspora Jews, but gentile Christians. Paul is not vainly called the apostle of the gentiles. No doubt, there were Jews, proselytes, and God-fearers among his audience, and converted Christians had heard of the law and the prophets. Yet Paul also took into account his gentile audience who were ‘outside the law’ (i.e., non-Jews): ‘To those outside the law I became as one outside the law (though I am not free from God’s law but am under Christ’s law) so that I might win those outside the law’ (1 Cor. 9.21). The passage shows that the word ‘law’ can span different meanings. Outside the Torah (i.e., among the gentiles) there is still law, namely God’s law and Christ’s law. Here we can easily see that, for Paul, law is not only the Torah. ‘Law’ is a broader issue where the Greco-Roman context must be taken into account. Nor can we leave aside the Greco-Roman context when we look at Paul’s interpretation of the Torah. It is a commonplace in commentaries that Stoic ideas play a part in Paul’s thinking when he interprets pagan morality in terms of the Mosaic law: gentiles have the law written in their hearts (Rom. 2.14-15). Romans 2 is not the only case in which we can find Greco-Roman ideas in Paul’s interpretation of the law. We must discuss texts which are traditionally seen as fully Jewish without any traces of Greco-Roman thinking; for example, the debate about works of law.32 A comparison between Paul and Epictetus can shed new light on it. Epictetus’ thoughts bear witness to the intellectual milieu which was partly the soil for the development of Paul’s thoughts. I do not claim that Paul was a Stoic inside and out, but that his thoughts contained Stoic strains. The aim of this inquiry is to show that these strains are a part of his thoughts about law. In this way we will get a more balanced view on Paul’s treatment of law. 31. Unfortunately, there is also much battle of words: for example, ‘[Thomas] Schreiner finds evidence that Palestinian Judaism was legalistic in the same material that Sanders cites to show that it was not’ (Westerholm 2004: 209). We can also ask if a Pauline or ‘Lutheran’ works-grace dichotomy is suitable in analysing ancient Jewish texts (Westerholm 2004: 350–1). 32. See, e.g., articles in Bachmann (ed.) (2005).



1.   On Applying the Stoic Perspective to Paul and the Law

9

1.2.4. Studies on Paul and Stoicism The scholarly gap on the issue of law does not mean that there are no general studies on the New Testament and Stoicism. In his Epiktet und das Neue Testament (1911), Bonhöffer tried to prove that the New Testament and Stoicism were totally independent of each other. In the first part of his book Bonhöffer denounces all assumptions that Epictetus would have known the New Testament and used it as his source. This result was confirmed by Douglas S. Sharp some years later (1914). Today it is the consensus among scholars.33 Bonhöffer’s other claim was that the New Testament is practically untouched by Stoicism. The reason for this conclusion is the very deep similarity which he required to justify any claim of influence. J. N. Sevenster (1961) drew a similar conclusion while F. Stanley Jones (1987) and Samuel Vollenweider (1989) did not subscribe to it. Both have analysed freedom in Paul’s thought and seen a Stoic strain in it.34 Along similar lines Lincoln E. Galloway (2004) maintains that Paul’s ideas of freedom can be best understood in the framework of popular philosophy, which he largely sketches with the help of Philo’s and Epictetus’ works. Cynics, Paul and the Pauline Churches (1998) by F. Gerald Downing describes Paul as having started his apostolic career as a Christian-Cynic preacher of freedom who proclaimed total freedom from social boundaries, including the legal ones. Later, in order to avoid chaos in churches, Paul shifted to more Stoicized views of inner freedom which made the social order and laws acceptable. Troels Engberg-Pedersen attracted attention with his book Paul and the Stoics (2000). He goes further than Abraham Malherbe, the author of Paul and the Popular Philosophers (1989). While Malherbe shows that Paul uses several specific motifs of popular philosophy as a part of an agenda of his own, Engberg-Pedersen claims that ‘there is a fundamental similarity in the basic model that structures both Stoic ethics and Paul’s comprehensive parenesis in his letters as a whole’.35 Paul’s epistles and his thoughts can be understood as a coherent whole when compared to Stoicism. Engberg-Pedersen’s study differs from the traditional exegetical approach. He rarely uses philological word-by-word comparisons or parallels of single motifs in his book. This is probably the basic reason for biblical scholars’ criticism of his work.36 Engberg-Pedersen, however, wrestles partly (i.e., not totally) in another category than traditional exegesis. He lays emphasis on 33. (Hershbell 1989: 2161; Long 2002: 35) Spanneut (1962: 630) lists some scattered scholars who held a different view. 34. See also the review of Jones’s and Vollenweider’s thoughts by Dautzenberg (1996). 35. (Engberg-Pedersen 2000: 301; cf. 9–11). 36. See, e.g., Esler (2004). For a real potshot, see Hoegen-Rohls (2002).

10

Paul and Epictetus on Law

Paul’s basic convictions and explains them in philosophical terms.37 When the phrasing of the question is markedly philosophical the results are also given at the philosophical level. Engberg-Pedersen makes fruitful points just because of his philosophical approach. Recently, Michelle V. Lee has applied Engberg-Pedersen’s contribution in her Paul, the Stoics, and the Body of Christ (2006). I could continue to list a number of distinguished scholars who have contributed to understanding the relationship between the New Testament and Stoicism. It is, however, enough to note that since the 1980s there seems to be a growing interest in comparing the New Testament and popular philosophy.38 Today such an enterprise is seen as possible and meaningful. Surprisingly, the issue of Paul and law is practically untouched in this discussion. Commentaries suggest that Stoic influence on Paul’s view of law is only seen in Rom. 2.14-15. Besides that, there are only a few rare studies on law from a popular philosophical point of view.39

1.3. Methodological Considerations In his Licht vom Osten (originally published in 1908) Adolf Deissmann warned about swearing in the name of some simple method in the history of religion.40 Wisely so. Paul’s and Epictetus’ texts are expressions of life, which cannot be reduced to a simple scheme. Therefore we cannot develop a method of comparison which can be applied mechanically and which objectively characterizes the relationship of every detail in the compared texts. We have to realize the actual character of the texts in the beginning in order to grasp the difficulties in the comparative work. Only thus will we have a meaningful methodological discussion. Although we cannot create an absolutely exact method, we can speak of difficulties and solutions on a general level. My tactic is to take a short look at earlier comparative studies and ask what the common problems are in comparative exegesis (subsection 1.3.1). That will let us see two crucial problems, which I will deal with in separate subsections (1.3.2 and 1.3.3). The first problem is to find an approach which guarantees an accurate hearing of both texts in a comparison, and the second is to find a definition of similarity concerning the relationship between two texts. 37. Note the title of one of his articles ‘Stoicism in the Apostle Paul: A Philosophical Reading’ (2004). 38. See also Engberg-Pedersen’s view (2004: 52–3). 39. On law from the popular philosophical point of view, see Hübner (1975), Jolivet (1999), Downing (1998: 55–84), and Huttunen (2008). Engberg-Pedersen (2000) also touches on this theme. Cf. Chilton (2004: 216): ‘Paul represented a fascinating hybrid of Judaism and Stoicism’. 40. (Deissmann 1923: 227–8).



1.   On Applying the Stoic Perspective to Paul and the Law

11

1.3.1. Methods in Earlier Comparative Studies The prototype of all comparative exegesis is Johann Jakob Wettstein’s Novum Testamentum Graecum, originally published between 1751 and 1752 (reprinted 1962). Wettstein’s approach is to give the Greek text of the New Testament and to note the parallels from other texts under each verse or passage. The running order is given by the New Testament, from Matthew to Revelation. That procedure has been typical for many later works, for example, in the project Corpus Hellenisticum Novi Testamenti (CHNT). A parallel text is given or only referred to under certain verses or passages, sometimes with short comments.41 The benefit of this procedure is its ease of use in biblical scholarship. A scholar gets easy access to a collection of parallels which may be important for the understanding of a certain biblical text. The reverse side is the lack of comprehensiveness concerning the parallel texts. We get a short passage, a sentence, or at the worst only a couple of words. We remain uninformed on the context or genre of the text and on the main thoughts of the author. These are, however, indispensable for understanding the excerpts. Hans Dieter Betz tries to give a comprehensive picture of texts that are compared to the New Testament. He uses a reverse procedure to that of Wettstein in two books on Plutarch and Early Christian literature within the CHNT project. The references to early Christian literature are presented within the running order of Plutarch’s writings.42 In an earlier study on Lucian and the New Testament, Betz took a wholly different approach, following neither Lucian’s nor the New Testament’s running order. Instead he organized Lucian’s material into themes which give contexts for comparison with the material from the New Testament.43 The benefit of Betz’s procedures is evident. They make it possible to hear the original voice of the non-Christian material which is more or less foreign to biblical scholars. Betz does not give excerpts picked out of context; doing so leads to the danger of interpreting them in biblical terms. On the contrary, we can understand the non-Christian writing in its own right. However, there is a reverse side, which is that the New Testament is in the shadow of the nonChristian material. Wettstein’s and Betz’s works show that their different approaches shed light on the different poles of the comparison, either the Christian texts or the non 41. The best example of this is Neuer Wettstein (1996–2001) by Georg Strecker and Udo Schnelle, which – as indicated by the name – is an updated version of Wettstein’s work. Other examples are Almqvist (1946), Mussies (1972), van der Horst (1973, 1974, 1975, 1980, 1981, 1983), Strack and Billerbeck (1978–85), and Boring, Berger, and Colpe (1995). Some of these works are part of the CHNT project, the history of which is briefly sketched by van der Horst (1992). For a profound introduction to the history of comparative works, see White and Fitzgerald (2003). 42. (Betz [ed.] 1975; 1978). 43. (Betz 1961).

12

Paul and Epictetus on Law

Christian texts. It makes a difference if we approach the texts from the side of non-Christian or Christian texts. The approach seems to be a crucial problem in comparative work and I will discuss it more deeply. Another crucial problem revolves around the definition of similarity. Whenever two texts are compared the basic aim is to find similarities: similarities in vocabulary, in ideas, or in the social reality mirrored by the texts. Engberg-Pedersen rightly emphasizes that similarity is the primary phenomenon in comparison,44 though some scholars have stressed the significance of dissimilarity.45 In many comparative works, what it means that two passages are ‘similar’ is not defined strictly. Instead, similar passages are only listed. The reason for this is that the works are meant to be preliminary collections for further analyses.46 However, things become more complicated when we try to ask about influences or dependencies between texts. Usually scholars have used a method which I call the criterion of similarity to establish or deny the dependence.47 If two texts are similar enough, a dependence is postulated. But what is similarity? When are two things ‘remarkably similar’ and when are they quite dissimilar? The definition of similarity necessarily has an effect on the result when we try to establish dependence or independence between two texts. Just note how differently Bonhöffer and Engberg-Pedersen consider the relationship between the New Testament and Stoicism. Bonhöffer claimed that the New Testament is practically untouched by Stoicism, while Engberg-Pedersen maintained just the opposite. Both based their views on the degree of similarity between the texts. What accounts for their differing views? Bonhöffer and Engberg-Pedersen define similarity in slightly different ways. Bonhöffer was interested in similarity and difference in concrete details and their relationships, say the use of the term ‘conscience’ ( ) by Paul and by the Stoics. Engberg-Pedersen is more interested in finding ‘a major pattern of thought’.48 The particular motifs and words are secondary although not insignificant. Engberg-Pedersen is content when the thought of Stoics and that of Paul can be described within the so-called ‘I→X→S’ model. The model ‘is an abstraction’ which ‘leaves something out of both bodies of thought’.49 44. ‘Differences presuppose similarities, they are differences of or in something similar ... differences only stand out interestingly on the background of similarities. It is the similarities that give the differences their distinctive character and thus give the whole configuration the sharp profile that we are all trying to ascertain’ (Engberg-Pedersen 2005: 36–7; original emphasis). Cf. Müller (1985: 184). 45. Smith 1990: 47; Esler 2004: 108–10. 46. E.g., Betz (1961: xii), and van der Horst (1980: ix). 47. The methodology is distinctively tradition-historical in only a few works, because it is quite difficult to trace back the transmission of a tradition. See, however, the studies on the traditions of Jesus and of Apollonius of Tyana (Petzke 1970; Koskenniemi 1994). 48. (Engberg-Pedersen 2000: 10) Cf. Sanders’s ‘pattern of religion’ (1977: 12–24). 49. Engberg-Pedersen 2000: 33.



1.   On Applying the Stoic Perspective to Paul and the Law

13

As we see, there are two poles in comparison, the concrete and the abstract. Bonhöffer stresses the similarity in concrete details while Engberg-Pedersen seeks to establish the similarity at a more general and abstract level. We have to discuss the concreteness and abstractness of similarity further: what kind of similarity makes dependence more probable? Theological interests do not ease the problems around the criterion of similarity in comparative exegesis. The uniqueness of Christianity has often been a real issue under the surface of comparative studies.50 Similarities between the Bible and pagan literature are sometimes taken as a threat to the theology of divine revelation. Depending on their theological convictions scholars can exaggerate or – in what is the more usual case – belittle the similarities. Very problematic are the short sketches which are aimed at differentiating Christianity from other belief systems. For example: Stoicism had no personal immortality. When one died, his divine part went back into the Whole. Stoicism was a creed of despair and acquiescence; it looked down on the Christian virtues that depend upon the affirmation ‘God is love’. Stoicism’s apathy basically denied the emotional side of human experience. Christianity by contrast brought joy and hope into the world.51

It is surely right to acknowledge differences between Stoicism and Christianity. The contrast, however, is not so clear as this brief sketch assumes. In fact, the Stoic ideal of apathy does not deny all emotions. Apathy meant the absence of the morally bad emotions, while the good ones, like joy ( ), were accepted (SVF 3.432). Thus, it is hardly right to label Stoicism as ‘a creed of despair’ that rejects human emotions. The claim that the Stoics looked down upon the Christian virtues is also far-fetched. They (as far as we know) just looked down upon Christian motives for martyrdom (Epictetus, Disc. 4.7.6; Marcus Aurelius, Med. 11.3). When avoiding exaggeration of the differences we have to be careful not to go to the other extreme where a dependence is established on ignorance of the differences. Many scholars know the books which present similarities between Jesus’ teachings and Chinese or Indian thought. The immediate conclusion is that Jesus must have visited China or India. Unfortunately, we also meet a minor version of the same problem in some mainstream studies. The problem is always lurking when two short excerpts are paralleled. We can see the similarities in the right scale only in a larger context. The context reveals the differences which are indispensably present in two different texts. After finding the similarities, we have to take the differences into account. Thus, the criterion of similarity cannot concentrate only on similarities. It has to indicate what is similar and what is not.

50. (Smith 1990: 36–46). 51. (Ferguson 1989: 294).

14

Paul and Epictetus on Law

Let me summarize the crucial problems which I discuss in the following. In subsection 1.3.2, I give reasons for my approach to the sources. How should we present Paul’s and Epictetus’ views on law? How can we guarantee an accurate hearing of both texts? In subsection 1.3.3, I sharpen the criterion of similarity. What is similarity? How does the level of abstractness or concreteness of similarity affect the probability of dependence? How should we take into account the theological convictions which may blur our views of similarity or dissimilarity? How should we take into account the differences? And finally, how can we postulate a dependence on the grounds of similarity?

1.3.2. The Approach to the Sources I will approach the matter of law from Epictetus’ point of view. That means that I start with his sayings on law and, then, compare them with relevant passages in Paul. Undoubtedly, this approach leaves Paul in Epictetus’ shadow. Since, however, the reader is probably more acquainted with Paul than with Epictetus, Epictetus’ ‘right to speak’ has primary importance. The thorough study of his views on law guarantees an accurate description in his own terms – an important part of fair play.52 Methodologically we should be open to the possibility of inconsistent views on law in Paul and Epictetus. The need for this openness is plain in the case of Paul. Heikki Räisänen concluded his study Paul and the Law by writing ‘Paul’s thought on the law is full of difficulties and inconsistencies’.53 Of course, Räisänen has a number of critics,54 but the importance of his study can hardly be denied. Räisänen aptly notes, ‘Even if everything else in this book turned out to be in error, it would still demonstrate that a vast host of interpreters has felt, and feels, that there are problems – logical and other – in Paul’s theology of law’.55 In the light of Räisänen’s work we should be careful not to analyse particular passages as parts of some self-evidently consistent whole. Quite to the contrary, we should take every passage primarily as it stands. Only secondarily can we search for interpretive help from a wider whole. In the case of Epictetus I will analyse all the passages in his works containing the word ‘law’ ( ) or its derivatives. Again, we should be open to the possibility that these passages do not form an entirely consistent whole. Generally ‘law’ has, as Räisänen has pointed out, a variety of meanings in Greek. Beside state law it can refer to a rule, a custom, an ethical norm, a typical 52. (Räisänen 2000: 159). 53. (Räisänen 1987: 264) Räisänen’s conclusion is recently attested by Hietanen (2005). 54. See Räisänen’s preface to the second edition of Paul and the Law (1987: xi–xxxi) and Westerholm (2004: 226–7). Van Spanje (1999) has even written a whole study on Räisänen’s views. 55. (Räisänen 1987: xii)



1.   On Applying the Stoic Perspective to Paul and the Law

15

behaviour, a usual procedure, a regularity, etc.56 Since the word has many different meanings in Greek, it is not self-evident that ‘law’ always has the same meaning in Epictetus. Each occurrence of ‘law’ and its derivatives in his works should be analysed case by case. Yet, the view of law is not identical with the meaning of one word and its derivatives. No view is bound to a certain word. The same thought can be expressed by means of different words. Thus, we should also take into account other passages in Epictetus which contain a word closely related to ‘law’ by its meaning, like ‘command’ ( ) or ‘ordinance’ ( ). The passages containing the word ‘law’ or its derivatives, however, are the basic material of my study, and this material is only complemented by other passages. I do not concentrate only on single words, like ‘law’, ‘command’, or ‘ordinance’. James Barr states correctly that ‘the linguistic bearer of the theological statement is usually the sentence and the still larger literary complex and not the word or morphological and syntactical mechanisms’.57 The single words, like ‘law’, only indicate that the author is somehow describing his views of law. The views should be analysed in a wider context. A single word is only a starting point for an interpretation. The horizon of interpretation widens from a word to a sentence, then to a passage (or pericope), then to a whole treatise, and finally to all treatises by the same author. Yet the views of law should be understood primarily in the immediate context of a word, in a sentence, and in a passage. The immediate context gives a more plausible interpretation to a word than do remote passages. Only secondarily can we search for interpretive help in a whole treatise or other treatises. What about quotations containing views of law? When Paul and Epictetus quote another treatise, they do not use their own words. Should we ignore quotations as alien to their views? No, a quotation always serves the author’s interests. He either agrees or disagrees with the quotation. In the latter case we are informed of a view the author cannot accept. But what if a quotation partly contains some items irrelevant to the matter considered by the author? How should we assess the importance of those irrelevant items? For example, in 1 Cor. 8.5 Paul stresses that there is one God and Lord. A quotation he puts forward in verse 6 contains additional information on their roles in creation.58 (5) Indeed, even though there may be so-called gods in heaven or on earth – as in fact there are many gods and many lords – (6) yet for us there is one God, the Father, from whom are all things and for whom we exist, and one Lord, Jesus Christ, through whom are all things and through whom we exist (1 Cor. 8.5-6).

56. (Räisänen 1992: 72–88) See also Sundkvist’s recent study (2008) on the early Greek interpretations of certain occurrences of the word ‘law’ in Paul. 57. (Barr 1961: 269) Cf. Sandmel (1962: 2). 58. Verse 6 is a part of an early Christian hymn (Schrage 1995: 221–2; Wolff 1996: 172).

16

Paul and Epictetus on Law

The information on creation is irrelevant in the present context, but it is certainly not irrelevant to Paul’s conviction. The additional information in quotations can also be taken into account when it has importance for our study. I suppose that all the information in quotations is acceptable to Paul and Epictetus unless they explicitly disagree with it. A close reading ensures that Epictetus and Paul are interpreted in their own terms. We should be careful not to blend their texts and then to serve a blend as a comparison. Both texts should be understood separately before entering into comparison.59 For each topic I first analyse the Epictetan texts and Pauline texts, and then the comparison follows.

1.3.3. The Criterion of Similarity Similarity is the basic presupposition for a comparison. Thus, I will search for those Pauline texts which have some similarity with Epictetus’ texts on law.60 After detecting a similarity we should carefully analyse the character of the similarity. Samuel Sandmel has offered an apt diagnosis of the too eager declaration of unsupported conclusions in comparisons. He calls it parallelomania. We might for our purposes define parallelomania as that extravagance among scholars which first overdoes the supposed similarity in passages and then proceeds to describe source and derivation as if implying literary connection flowing in an inevitable or predetermined direction. The key word in my essay is extravagance. I am not denying that literary parallels and literary influence, in the form of source and derivation, exist.61

Sandmel takes similarity as the primary indication of a parallel, which constitutes the ground of another indication, literary connection. The literary connection is postulated because of the similarity. Sandmel does not find any fault in similarity and literary connection as the hallmarks of a parallel, and I do not either. Only their extravagance justifies a diagnosis of parallelomania. How can we sanely characterize similarity? Jonathan Z. Smith proclaims that ‘similarity and difference are not “given”. They are the result of mental operations … This is to say, comparison does not necessarily tell us how things “are” …; like models and metaphors, comparison tells us how things might be conceived, how they might be “redescribed” ’.62 Smith rightly emphasizes that there is no purely objective comparison. The result of a comparison is always dependent on the premises. Speaking more 59. Separate interpretation is stressed especially by Clemen (1924: 18). 60. Today, it is quite popular to speak of intertextuality in these kind of cases. I prefer to avoid the whole term as its meaning is too ambiguous. For brief comments on intertextuality, see Aichele and Phillips (1995) and Dunderberg (1999). 61. (Sandmel 1962: 1) Of course, Sandmel was not the first scholar who raised the voice against uncritical comparisons (see Donaldson 1983: 194–7). 62. (Smith 1990: 51–2).



1.   On Applying the Stoic Perspective to Paul and the Law

17

concretely, when we say that Paul’s and Epictetus’ views are similar, we also have to define in which respect they are similar. The details of similarity are dependent on each particular case, but there are some general aspects which should be taken into account when defining the similarity. First, we have to take into account the level of abstractness. The rule of thumb is that the more general the level, the more similarities that are found. And conversely, the more concrete the level, the more dissimilarities that are found. At the most abstract level Paul’s and Epictetus’ texts are similar – just because both are texts, even Greek texts. At the most concrete level they are completely dissimilar, because they do not contain the same words in the same order and used with the same meaning. Second, we have to take into account different sectors of similarity. Pieter W. van der Horst has listed six types of parallels.63 The list can be classified into three sectors of similarity: linguistic (stylistic, grammatical, and lexical parallels), ideological (religious ideas, ethical parallels), and social (historical parallels).64 In studying Paul’s and Epictetus’ views of law, I am primarily interested in the ideological similarities. Linguistic and social similarities are noted only in addition to ideological similarity. In addition to defining similarities we also have to define the essential dissimilarities.65 Smith notes, ‘what is required is the development of a discourse of “difference”, a complex term which invites negotiation, classification and comparison, and at the same time, avoids too easy a discourse of the “same” ’.66 The differences between Paul and Epictetus are usually due to the wholly different categories of thought. One essential dissimilarity is Paul’s apocalyptic world view, which is alien to Epictetus.67 I take it for granted that apocalypticism influenced Paul’s thought. Apocalypticism is important for Paul while mainly unimportant for a comparison between Paul and Epictetus. I ask the reader to keep in mind Paul’s apocalypticism although I do not redescribe it on every page. 63. (Van der Horst 1980: 4) Boring, Berger and Colpe (1995: 23–32) list 24 categories for designating the relation between early Christian and other texts. The list is too subtle for our purposes. 64. Metzger (1968: 12) notes only the first two (language, ideas). Smith’s classification (words, stories, settings), which is visible in the outline of his book (1990: v), is somewhat congruent with mine. 65. This procedure is commonly associated with Abraham Malherbe (e.g., Martyn 2002: 62–5). 66. (Smith 1990: 42). 67. I take the apocalyptic world view as being different from that of world conflagration (), known to Epictetus as a Stoic dogma (Disc. 3.13.4–5); on conflagration in Stoicism, see Mansfeld 1979. I do not mean that world conflagration and apocalypticism have nothing in common (on the similarities, see Downing 1995), but for Epictetus, world conflagration is on the periphery of his thought.

18

Paul and Epictetus on Law

There are also differences in dealing with similar themes like the question of whether one should obey the state authorities and their laws. Both Paul and Epictetus discuss the question, but their answers differ. It is important to describe the differences because they appear within similar discussions. If a parallelomaniac exaggerates the similarity, an apologist exaggerates the dissimilarity in order to guard the uniqueness of Christianity. Naturally, Christian scholars may feel more comfortable with Paul than with Epictetus, just because Paul is ‘our guy’ – and ‘our guy’ is always ‘a good guy’ in contrast to ‘strangers’. In principle, sympathies are no problem unless they distort the comparison and make us sketch caricatures of ‘strangers’. I wish to adopt a balanced approach which Heikki Räisänen calls fair play: ‘Both one’s own tradition and those of others have to be understood with empathy’, and ‘comparison must be fair’.68 The antidote against apologetic tendencies is not a denial of the existence of those tendencies, but a relevant approach to the sources and carefully considered insight into the concept of similarity. This brief consideration of similarity hopefully saves us from both a parallelomanic exaggeration of similarity and an apologetic exaggeration of dissimilarity. Now we have to be wary of the second parallelomanic symptom in Sandmel’s diagnosis, the description of ‘source and derivation as if implying literary connection flowing in an inevitable or predetermined direction’. Adolf Deissmann distinguished between analogical and genealogical similarity. Analogical similarities are based on similar religious experiences due to the universalities of the human psyche and the similar conditions of human life. Genealogical similarities are caused by a dependence, a borrowing from one religion to another.69 The latter similarities need to be temporally and geographically possible. A younger source cannot influence an older one and the influences cannot be transmitted, say, from America to Europe before Columbus. Secondly, a possible genealogy must be proved probable through weighty arguments.70 It is temporally and geographically possible that Epictetus was influenced by Paul or by Christianity. Yet, as I said above, it has been a consensus since Bonhöffer that there is no such influence. Epictetus knew about Christians, but his knowledge was superficial (Disc. 4.7.6; possibly Disc. 2.9.19–21). If Epictetus ever read Christian texts, he was probably not interested in them. It is much more probable that both Paul and Epictetus were influenced by earlier Stoicism. This is self-evident with Epictetus. As we saw in subsection 1.2.2, scholars are unanimous that Epictetus’ philosophy was clearly based on the traditions of the Stoic school. Paul’s case is not so clear. He may have discussed with philosophers (cf. Acts 17.18) or may have had a Hellenistic 68. (Räisänen 2000: 158–9; cf. Räisänen 2005: 428–30). 69. (Deissmann 1923: 226). 70. (Clemen 1924: 20, 21; Donaldson 1983: 199).



1.   On Applying the Stoic Perspective to Paul and the Law

19

education. Paul does not mention this in his epistles, and the supposition that he had some kind of Greek schooling is mainly based on his style of argumentation, his rhetoric, and the philosophical components he uses. Recently Tor Vegge has produced a profound study on the topic in his Paulus und das Antike Schulwesen. Schule und Bildung des Paulus (2006). Vegge lengthily describes the school system in antiquity and turns then to Paul. The conclusion that Vegge draws from his analysis is that Paul probably had a Hellenistic education.71 However, this kind of education is not the only channel of philosophical influences. Paul was a Hellenistic Jew who had lively interaction with gentile Christians, and in this sense he was surrounded by the Greek culture.72 Stoicism was present in certain Jewish texts, for example, in Sirach, in the Book of Wisdom, in 4 Maccabees, in Philo.73 Why would have or even how could have Paul avoided Stoic influence? At the same time, it is commonplace to acknowledge Stoic influence in Romans 2. How can we detect the passages where Paul has probably been influenced by Stoicism? There are four criteria based on the criterion of similarity. The influence is fairly probable in an ideal case, where the following four characteristics are apparent: (1) Paul’s idea is broadly similar to Epictetus’ ideas, (2) there are similarities in the concrete details, (3) Paul uses Stoic technical terms, and (4) Paul has more similarities with Epictetus than with other comparative texts. We will rarely meet an ideal case with all the criteria fulfilled. Stoic technical terms are not common in Paul, and usually we have to discuss the influence without such terms. The last criterion leads us unto the open sea of all the ancient sources with which no one can cope. That is why I limit my task to test the influences proposed by other scholars. The influence is naturally less plausible the less the criteria are fulfilled. The usual comparisons between Paul and Jewish authors contain many of the same problems we meet in the comparison between Paul and Epictetus. That is why the methodological difficulties are no reason to leave aside my approach.

71. See also, e.g., Betz (1992: 187). 72. Seelig (1996: xxii) takes Hellenistic Judaism as the primary channel of Greek influence, but he also lists other channels: a Greek education, everyday life, and Christian congregations. Clemen (1924: 18–19) takes Judaism as the primary channel. 73. On Sirach, see Marböck (1999: 170–1), Wicke-Reuter (2000), and Kaiser (2003: 293–303). On the book of Wisdom, see Reese (1970: 4). On 4 Maccabees, see Sandmel (1978: 277–9). On Philo, see Pohlenz (1948: 369–78).

Chapter 2 Law and the Core of Epictetus’ Philosophy 2.1. Epictetus’ Stoic Theory of Value The Stoic theory of value is undoubtedly the core of Epictetus’ teaching. With variations it recurs on nearly every page in Discourses and Encheiridion. As the theory is so focal for Epictetus, we will encounter it throughout this book. In this chapter, I introduce the theory in analyses of two Epictetan passages in which the theory is linked with law. After these analyses I present Epictetus’ application of the theory with regard to social positions and show the similarities with 1 Corinthians 7 and 9.

2.1.1. ‘If You Wish Any Good Thing, Get It From Yourself’ What is under your control and what is not? This is the fundamental question for Epictetus.1 In the opening words of Disc. 1.29 (‘Of Steadfastness’) Epi­ctetus defines the essence of good and bad, and then concludes it with a command called God’s law. (1)          (2)                 (3)                            (4)         ‘      ’   ‘   ’     (1) The essence of the good is a certain kind of moral purpose, and that of the evil is a certain kind of moral purpose. (2) What, then, are the external things? They are materials for the moral purpose, in dealing with which it will find its own proper good or evil. (3) How will it find the good? If it does not admire the materials. For the judgements about the materials, if they be correct, make the moral purpose good, but if they be crooked and awry, they make it evil. (4) This is the law which God has ordained, and He says, ‘If you wish any good thing, get it from yourself’. You say, ‘No, but from someone else’. Do not so, but get it from yourself (Disc. 1.29.1–4).

‘This is the law which God has ordained’ seems not to refer to the previous reasoning but to the following sentence which is clearly like a legal decree. The 1. See, e.g., Rabbow (1954: 132–7, 246–7).



2.   Law and the Core of Epictetus’ Philosophy

21

decree-like sentence may be a quotation from a source unknown to us or it may be Epictetus’ creation. Anyway, Epictetus presents it as a decree from a divine source. God seems to be distinct from the world and reveals his will in an oracle through Epictetus, his prophet. However, the oracle is only a rhetorical way to emphasize the significance of philosophy. Epictetus postulated a divine origin for all philosophy, but not in the sense of a revelatory oracle. God’s will can be based on the right kind of philosophical reasoning.2 The relationship is loose between the decree and section 5 that follows, since section 5 begins with the word . This word commonly indicates some kind of transition in Epictetus’ text.3 Thus, the decree (section 4) is more closely connected with the previous philosophical reasoning (sections 1–3) than with the subsequent text. The reasoning provides an explanatory horizon for the decree which, in a way, sums up the results. The quotations typically conclude a previous reasoning in diatribe style.4 At the beginning of Disc. 1.29, Epictetus presupposes that his students understand the background of his reasoning, the theory of value. The external things ( ) are things that lie outside the moral purpose ( ) (Disc. 1.29.47). The moral purpose has a slightly vague meaning in Epictetus, but basically it denotes the faculty of moral decision-making.5 Thus, external things – or in other words ‘things not up to us’ (   ) or ‘not our own’ ( ) – are everything besides the moral purpose: body, property, reputation, office, etc. (Ench. 1.1). Epictetus says that external things are materials () for the moral purpose (section 2), and the ‘materials are indifferent’ (  ) (Disc. 2.5.1), not good or evil. Real good and evil are value judgements ( ) that arise out of the moral purpose, not out of external things, and they are not up to those things. The value judgements are up to each individual, i.e., his or her moral purpose. If any external thing appears to us to be good or evil, it is good or evil because of our value judgements. All external things are indifferent as such: ‘For in general remember this – that we crowd ourselves, we make close quarters for ourselves, that is to say, the decisions of our will ( ) crowd us and make us close quarters’ (Disc. 1.25.28). Epictetus means that an impression of an oppressive crowd is in fact an impression of a crowd plus our value judgement (‘the decision of our will’) that the crowd is oppressive. In Disc. 1.29.1–4 Epictetus admonishes the listeners to 2. (Long 2002: 188) In Disc. 3.1.36–37, Epictetus describes his sayings as an oracle, which, however, should be understood figuratively, since the sayings reflect normal Stoic philosophy (Bonhöffer 1894: 2). 3. (Bultmann 1984: 54). 4. (Bultmann 1984: 80). 5. (Dobbin 1991: 129–33) Long (2002: 210–20) has a long discussion on the character of  , and he prefers to translate it ‘volition’. Because I quote Oldfather’s version of Epictetus’ texts, I congruently use his translation ‘moral purpose’.

22

Paul and Epictetus on Law

distinguish between these two, the external thing and the moral judgement. Those who do not make this distinction have ‘crooked and awry’ judgements. They ‘admire’ or ‘are overawed by’ – the verb  has both meanings (cf. Disc. 2.6.2) – the external things as though the things were good or evil as such. The divine decree (section 4) should be understood in this context. It is not a variant of the command ‘you shall not steal’, although the philosophical principles of the decree can also be applied in this sense (Disc. 1.22.11–14). The decree admonishes the listeners to get the good from themselves, because it is impossible to get any good from someone else. All external things are indifferent. The only good (and evil) is a value judgement, which is up to the person. Thus, ‘if you wish any good thing, get it from yourself’ – just because there is no good elsewhere. What follows the decree in Disc. 1.29 is a practical application of the previous theory of value. It becomes clear that Epictetus is not preparing a denial of theft, but tries to provide philosophical protection against torture, grief, pain – in a word, suffering. When all external things are indifferent, including the body, a tyrant cannot threaten: (5) For the rest, when the tyrant threatens and does not6 summon, I answer ‘Whom are you threatening?’ If he says, ‘I will put you in chains’, I reply, ‘He is threatening my hands and my feet’. (6) If he says, ‘I will behead you’, I answer, ‘He is threatening my neck’. If he says, ‘I will throw you into prison’, I say, ‘He is threatening my whole paltry body’; and if he threatens me with exile, I give the same answer. (7) — Does he, then, threaten you at all? — If I feel that all this is nothing to me, — not at all (Disc. 1.29.5–7; transl. revised).

2.1.2. The Right Use of the Indifferents If the external things are indifferents, should we neglect them? Should we ignore body, property, reputation, office, etc.? Epictetus answers that ‘materials are indifferent, but the use ( ) which we make of them is not a matter of indifference’ (Disc. 2.5.1). The use of indifferent things has two aspects. Firstly, it involves right value judgements and, secondly, right action with indifferents. Epictetus deals with the law of the right use of indifferent things in discourse 2.16 (‘that we do not practice the application of our judgements about things good and evil’). He complains that no one remembers the theory of value outside the classroom (section 2). In anxiety we say, ‘O Lord God, how may I escape the anxiety’ (section 13), although the theory of value would give us happiness. We feel sad when parting company with friends and when leaving comfortable places (section 24). Yet, this feeling does not arise out of the external things, as witnessed by the behavior of children. They cry when their nurse has left, ‘but 6. Translated in accordance with manuscript (S) which is understandable (Radt 1990: 370). Oldfather and Souilhé correct the word  to  ( …  and summons me … ). To preserve  is by no means a desperate solution (cf. Dobbin 1998: 229).



2.   Law and the Core of Epictetus’ Philosophy

23

forget their troubles as soon as they get a cookie’ (section 25). The parting of company does not cause the crying, because the children do not continue crying as long as the nurse is away. We can leave behind our troubles as children can. Nevertheless, that should happen with the help of right judgements, not with the help of a cookie (section 26). Then Epictetus asks what those right kind of judgements are: (27)                                      (28)                                      7     (27) And what are these? The things which a human being ought to practice all day long, without being devoted to what is not his own, either comrade, or place, or gymnasia, nay, not even to his own body; but he should remember the law and keep that before his eyes. (28) And what is the law of God? To guard what is his own, not to lay claim to what is not his own, but to make use of what is given to him, and not to yearn for what has not been given; when something is taken away, to give up readily and without delay, being grateful for the time in which he had the use of it — all this if you do not wish to be calling your nurse and your mammy! (Disc. 2.16.27–28; transl. revised)

Epictetus reminds us that we should not be devoted to what is ‘not our own’ ( ), meaning the external things: body, property, reputation, office, etc. Instead () we should take heed of the law of God. The commands of the law are given in an infinitive which stresses the legal authority. The infinitive instead of the third person imperative occurs often in legal parlance.8 Thus, Epictetus makes the law of God comparable to a state law. The law Epictetus presents consists of three commands with two parts in each: ‘(I) (i) To guard what is his own, (ii) not to lay claim to what is not his own, but (II) (i) to make use of what is given to him, (ii) and not to yearn for what has not been given; (III) when something is taken away, (i) to give up readily and without delay, (ii) being grateful for the time in which he had the use of it’. The first command repeats what we have already seen in Disc. 1.29.1–4, that we should not lay claim to any external thing, but only guard () what is our own, meaning our judgements (sections 24 and 26). When we part company with friends, it is not the change but our judgement about that change that weighs upon us (section 24). Why, then, do we have a judgement which makes us feel sad (cf. section 40)? Why not a judgement that makes us happy? 7. The verb is usually changed for  ( …  crying for your nurse …  ) (e.g., Oldfather), seemingly because of the use of cry in sections 25 and 29. Yet  is understandable. 8. (Smyth 1984: 448, § 2013b)

24

Paul and Epictetus on Law

The first command does not imply passivity with regard to external things. The external things we have are on loan to us, as the second command indicates. External things are indifferent, but their use (, ) is not. We should make the right kind of use of them.9 The indifference of external things does not mean ignorance. The third command deals with contentment. God can take away his loan, also through human hands (Disc. 2.5.22; Ench. 11). Because external things are only on loan, we should give them back without constraint. The only morally justified attitude is gratefulness. The legal style ends with a return to the children crying for their nurse. Those who do not obey God’s commands are like those children. Epictetus continues by referring again to the sadness of change. He invites people to accept outward circumstances whatever they happen to be. Contentment is a key word for Epictetus’ philosophy of life. We have to be ready for change, but also for changelessness if that is God’s will. If every external thing is indifferent to us, we can adjust ourselves to anything, and guard () and use () whatever God has given us.

2.1.3. The Right Use of Social Position One of the externals given by God is one’s social position. I take a short look at this particular external thing because of its importance for a comparison with Paul. Some sections after presenting the law of God, Epictetus presents an exemplary prayer. It includes a promise to remain in one’s social position, whatever it is: ‘Wouldst Thou have me to hold office, or remain in private life; to remain here or go into exile; to be poor or be rich? I will defend all these Thy acts before men’ (Disc. 2.16.42). The verb ‘guard’ () occurred in the law of God (section 28) but not here. It is, however, several times connected with social positions in other passages (Disc. 2.14.8; 3.2.4; 3.3.8; 4.8.20). The position as such is indifferent, but its use is not. Only once does Epictetus explicitly include social position when he speaks of the use () of externals given by God (Disc. 1.29.39). Nevertheless, social position is implicitly always included when Epictetus speaks of the use of externals. This is the case, for example, with the law of God discussed above. Some passages combine social positions and God’s law. In Disc. 3.24, God’s commands and social positions are closely associated. A good and excellent man fills his place ( ), obeying God until it is time to depart (Disc. 3.24.95–98). (98) ‘How do you depart?’ ‘Again, as Thou didst wish it, as a free man, as Thy servant (), as one who has perceived Thy commands and Thy prohibitions (      ). (99) But so long as I continue to live in Thy service, what manner of man wouldst Thou have me be? 9. (Bonhöffer 1894: 43; Bonhöffer 1912: 284–5; cf. SVF 3.117; 3.119; 3.122; 3.123)



2.   Law and the Core of Epictetus’ Philosophy

25

An official or a private citizen, a senator or one of the common people, a soldier or a general, a teacher or a head of a household? Whatsoever station and post (  ) Thou assign me, I will die ten thousand times, as Socrates says, or ever I abandon it.10 (100) And where wouldst Thou have me be? In Rome, or in Athens, or in Thebes, or in Gyara? Only remember me there’ (Disc. 3.24.98–100).

‘Thy commands and Thy prohibitions’ regulate the departure, referring to death, but they are also closely associated to the right lifestyle. A just person lives in accordance with God’s will, obeying his commands and prohibitions – in a word, obeying the law of God. ‘Commands and prohibitions’ is a Stoic definition of law.11 According to Epictetus, an exemplary person does not change the social position given to him or her by God. Obedience to the law of God even means a life without the will to change one’s living conditions: one should obey voluntarily like a free servant ( ), not like a compelled slave ( ).12 This voluntariness is something which Epictetus emphasizes many times, for example, in Disc. 4.3.9–10: ‘I am a free man and a friend of God, so as to obey Him of my own free will ( ). No other thing ought I to claim, not body, or property, or office, or reputation – nothing in short’. Again, the social position is included in the list, and Epictetus adds, ‘I cannot transgress any of His commands ( )’ (section 10). In Disc. 3.24, the reference to Gyara illustrates that the demand to accept outer circumstances is absolute. Gyara was a barren island in the Aegean, a place of exile.13 Chester G. Starr has illustratively described the associations linked with Gyara. ‘Epictetus names Gyara several times, and not merely as a geographical point; one may suspect that when he did so a shiver ran down the back of his Roman auditor, a reflex much like that in Hitlerite Europe when one mentioned Dachau or Buchenwald’.14 Since the externals are indifferent, it is even possible to live happily as an expelled person on Gyara. What is important is the right use of external things, and the obedient fulfilling of the duties in one’s location and social position. Epictetus makes the same point again some sections later. (113) Now He brings me here, and again He sends me there; to mankind exhibits me in poverty, without office, in sickness; sends me away to Gyara, brings me into prison. Not because He hates me – perish the thought! And who hates the best of his servants? Nor because He neglects me, for He does not neglect any of even the least of His creatures; but because He is training me, and making use of me as a witness to the rest of men. (114) When I have been appointed to such a service, am I any longer 10. Possibly a free paraphrase of Plato, Apol. 28e–29a (cf. Disc. 1.9.23–24; 3.1.19–20). Plato, Phaed. 62b is a possible but improbable source of the paraphrase (Döring 1979: 52 n. 34). 11. (Bonhöffer 1911: 231; SVF 3.314) 12. For the difference between   and  , see Rengstorf (1974: 532–3). 13. (Dobbin 1998: 208) 14. (Starr 1949: 25)

26

Paul and Epictetus on Law to take thought as to where I am, or with whom, or what men say about me? Am I not wholly intent upon God, and His commands and ordinances (          )? (Disc. 3.24.113–14)

Again, it is God who determines a person’s location and social position, and, again, one should fulfil one’s duties according to God’s commands and ordinances. Obeying them brings happiness (sections 115–18), but there is also another aim, for those who live happily in hard circumstances are witnesses of the power of philosophy. God calls one to be a witness, especially at the moment of social descent (Disc. 1.29.44–49).15 An exemplary person lives ‘as a witness summoned by God’ (     ) even after having lost his or her office (Disc. 1.29.46; cf. 2.1.39). One should not disgrace ‘the summons which He gave you’ (   ) by blaming God for the descent (Disc. 1.29.49). Lastly, it should be noted that according to Epictetus, human value is not dependent on social position. Social positions are indifferent external things, and all people are equal despite their different tasks. For example, Epictetus admonishes one of his listeners not to treat a slave like a tyrant treats his subjects since the slave is ‘your own brother, who has Zeus as his progenitor and is, as it were, a son born of the same seed as yourself and of the same sowing from above’ (Disc. 1.13.3). To bear this in mind is to look at ‘the laws of the gods’ (Disc. 1.13.5). I will come back to this highly interesting passage. Now it is time to look at Paul.

2.2. Paul’s Christian Stoicism in 1 Corinthians 7 and 9 2.2.1. Commandments of God and Social Position A number of scholars have referred to the similarities between 1 Corinthians 7 and popular philosophy or Stoicism.16 No one, however, has examined the comparison deeply enough, and the ‘commandments of God’ (v. 19) aspect has been left practically untouched in earlier comparisons. My comparison will show that the similarities are extensive to the point that Paul’s views can rightly be called Christian Stoicism. In 1 Corinthians 7 Paul mainly deals with matrimonial ethics. He admonishes his readers not to change their marital status. The only exception is the 15. Bonhöffer (1911: 37) and Deming (1995a: 167) claim that there is no change in social position when God calls a person to be his witness. This is, however, not true. When Epictetus tells of the losing of governorship, an interlocutor (possibly Epictetus himself) asks, ‘In what rôle, do you mount the stage now?’ (; italics mine). The answer is ‘as a witness …’  One is clearly a witness after social descent. 16. (Weiss 1902: 16; Bonhöffer 1911: 171; Käsemann 1964: 238; Jones 1987: 37, 53; Vollenweider 1989: 211, 241; Deming 1995a: 159; Robbins 1996: 180; Downing 1998: 113; Dautzenberg 2001: 61–2)



2.   Law and the Core of Epictetus’ Philosophy

27

case where a non-Christian spouse wants a divorce. Otherwise ( )17 one should apply the principal rule to stay in one’s social position (v. 17). (17) Let each of you lead the life that the Lord has assigned, to which God called you. This is my rule in all the churches. (18) Was anyone at the time of his call already circumcised? Let him not seek to remove the marks of circumcision. Was anyone at the time of his call uncircumcised? Let him not seek circumcision. (19) Circumcision is nothing, and uncircumcision is nothing; but obeying the commandments of God is everything. (20) Let each of you remain in the condition in which you were called. (21) Were you a slave when called? Do not be concerned about it. Even if you can gain your freedom, make use of your present condition now more than ever. (22) For whoever was called in the Lord as a slave is a freed person belonging to the Lord, just as whoever was free when called is a slave of Christ. (23) You were bought with a price; do not become slaves of human masters. (24) In whatever condition you were called, brothers and sisters, there remain with God.

‘Obeying the commandments of God’ (  ) sounds like the Jewish principle to obey the Torah (Sir. 32.23; Wis. 6.18).18 Amazingly, Paul regards circumcision, which is a focal commandment in the Torah, as indifferent. It is known that some Jews rejected the literal meaning of the Torah and reinterpreted it allegorically (Philo, Migr. 89–93).19 In Paul, however, there is no trace of an allegorical reinterpretation. Circumcision is not reinterpreted but ignored. Can ‘the commandments’, then, still refer to the Torah? Some scholars understand the commandments as a reference to the commandment to love one’s neighbour, which Paul takes as a crystallization of the whole Torah (Rom. 13.9; Gal. 5.14).20 If that were the case, Paul would speak of one commandment and there should be a mention of love in the context.21 Since both are missing, it is questionable whether Paul had the Torah in mind at all. Fortunately, there is no need to give an exact answer. Paul might have had a hazy idea of ‘the commandments’ as the commandments of the Torah, but such an idea – if there is any – is formal. In practice, the content of ‘the commandments’ is something different from the Torah as evidenced by the indifference of circumcision. If there is any link between the Torah and the commandments Paul mentions, the link remains superficial. ‘The commandments’ should be understood in its immediate context, which does not mention the Torah at all. The core in verses 17-24 is God’s call. God calls each person to become Christian in his or her own social position: ‘Let each of you remain in the 17. I follow Schrage (1995: 129, 132–3), who interprets the words as an incomplete clause: ‘Wenn (das aber) nicht (der Fall ist)’. 18. E.g., Lang (1986: 96) and Räisänen (1987: 68). 19. Diaspora Judaism was inclined to find a ‘spiritual’ content in the Torah. Yet spiritualization did not usually lead to the denial of the literal meaning of a commandment (Räisänen 1987: 34–41). 20. (Lang 1986: 96; Wolff 1996: 149) 21. (Cf. Lindemann 2000: 171)

28

Paul and Epictetus on Law

condition (  ) in which you were called’ (v. 20). The call has a double meaning: the call to become a Christian, and at the same time, to stay in one’s social position.22 No matter whether you are circumcised or not, slave or free, ‘lead the life that the Lord has assigned ()’ (v. 17). The translation in the nrsv has too commanding a tone (‘assign’ pro, e.g., ‘distribute’), but it communicates the basic idea. Paul clearly says that everyone’s lot is given by God and one should lead life () within it. Paul’s exhortation proves that God’s distributive activity is not just an option which people are allowed to accept or repudiate. What God has given is in fact an assignment. In this context, ‘the commandments of God’ seem to mean the requirements of one’s social position. It is God’s command to ‘lead the life that God has assigned’.23 Scholars have discussed whether slaves who can gain their freedom (v. 21) are an exception.24 The question is whether Paul advises such slaves to gain their freedom or to stay in slavery. Paul’s incomplete sentence can be completed in two ways:         [ / ]. Even if you can gain your freedom, make use of [your present condition / the possibility to gain freedom] now more than ever. (Trans. revised)

There is no grammatical reason to complete the sentence in either way.25 We should understand it in its context. The sentence is adversative () in relation to the beginning of the verse, which advises slaves not to be concerned about their social status. Thus, the beginning of the verse is intended for those who are bound to slavery. Some scholars see here a contrast between the slaves who should adjust themselves to slavery and the slaves who might gain their freedom. According to this interpretation, there is a contrast between adjusting and not-adjusting to the slavery. Thus, the incomplete sentence is the advice to gain one’s freedom when it is possible.26 Unfortunately, this interpretation is impossible because of the next verse, which emphasizes the equality of slaves and free people. In other words, social 22. (Plank 1987: 26; Schrage 1995: 137) Wolff (1996: 149) takes social position to be irrelevant in respect of God’s call. 23. Conzelmann (1981: 159) and Vollenweider (1989: 240–1) touch upon the same idea. 24. Bartchy (1973: 106–14) claims that Paul admonishes already manumitted slaves to stay in Christianity (= calling). The interpretation is based on the fact that slaves could not legally affect their manumission. But does Paul mean the legal side at all? Bartchy (1973: 107) himself gives an example of a slave who could unofficially affect the solution regarding his manumission. Moreover, it is grammatically difficult to understand the sentence referring to the past (‘Even if you could have gained your freedom …’). 25. Aorist  is not necessarily an ingressive aorist indicating change (from slavery to freedom) and the sentence is not necessarily completed by words taken from the same sentence ( ) (Blass, Debrunner and Rehkopf 1979: 276 [§ 337], 409–13 [§ 479–83].) 26. E.g., Schrage (1995: 140), and Wolff (1996: 149–50).



2.   Law and the Core of Epictetus’ Philosophy

29

positions are indifferent. The indifference is the reason () for the previous advice given in the incomplete sentence. Would it be cogent to advise a slave to gain freedom because freedom is indifferent? Clearly not. The indifference of social status is clearly a reason for not gaining freedom. Thus, Paul advises slaves to stay in slavery even if there is a possibility of manumission.27 What, then, is the contrast indicated by  in verse 21? Paul does not create a contrast between adjustment and nonadjustment to slavery. In fact, there is a contrast between compulsory and voluntary slavery. In the beginning of the verse Paul speaks of a slave who has no choice but to serve as a slave. In the end, he speaks of a slave who, in contrast, has two choices: one can (and should) stay a slave even though ( ) freedom is possible.28 Slaves, like all Christians, have to stay in their social positions. This is God’s call and commandment. The plural ‘commandments’ – if read in the textual context – seems to refer to the different positions and different commandments for different persons. The analogy with Epictetus is at hand. The philosopher understood social positions as God-given. He uses the vocabulary of law when he admonished the filling of one’s position as God commands.29 Epictetus even used the same words as Paul. Epictetus admonished his audience to guard () the law of God and to make use () of all externals, including one’s social position. Paul emphasizes obeying () the commandments of God and admonishes slaves to make use () of their present position. Moreover, both speak of God’s call ( ) in similar contexts.30 There is, however, a difference between the meaning of God’s call in Epictetus and in Paul. For Epictetus, the call is a call to be God’s witness; it is a particular calling, whereas Paul speaks of the call in a more general sense. For Paul, God’s call is to be Christian in one’s social position. Thus, Epictetus speaks of God’s call in a more strictly spiritual sense. The call to be a witness of God is more analogical with Paul’s call to be an apostle (e.g., 1 Cor. 1.1) than the call for everyman in the present Pauline text.31 27. Deming (1995b: 135), Schrage (1995: 141), and Wolff (1996: 150) take v. 22 as a ground only for the beginning of v. 21. If this were the case, it could be expected that Paul would have indicated it, e.g., by repeating the beginning of 21: ‘Were you a slave when called? Do not be concerned about it, for whoever …’. Yet this is not the case. That is why v. 22 is naturally grounds for the previous sentence or for v. 21 as a whole. 28. Harrill (1995: 118) understands that the word  creates a contrast between the following word and the words ‘do not be concerned about it’. When it is possible to become free, one, in contrast, should be concerned and become free. Ergo, Paul advises the gaining of freedom. Yet it is more probable that the contrast is with the immediately preceding words, ‘even if you can gain your freedom, [do not do so, but] in contrast, make use of [your present condition]’. 29. (Gretenkord 1981: 302) 30. (Vollenweider 1989: 241) 31. Deming (1995a: 167–8) sees an analogy between God’s call in 1 Cor. 7.17-24 and in Epi­ ctetus’ parable of the voyage (Ench. 7). Deming thinks that the call in the parable means a difficult

30

Paul and Epictetus on Law

Are the similarities between Paul and Epictetus – according to Deissmann’s classification – analogical parallels, that is, more or less coincidental similarities? I do not think so. There is a paradox in 1 Cor. 7.17-24 which presumes a theory of value similar to that of Epictetus. The paradox is that Paul stresses the duty to fulfil one’s social position, but at the same time he describes all social positions as indifferent. The indifference of social position is obvious in Paul’s text. Circumcision and uncircumcision are nothing (v. 19) and a slave should not be concerned about his or her social position (v. 21). Paul even turns slavery and freedom upside down: the slave is a freedman of the Lord and a free person is the Lord’s slave (v. 22). This status reversal should not be understood to mean that Paul really ascribed higher status to slaves in the Christian community. The reversal is a metaphor which shows the indifference of social position. This becomes clear when we read Paul’s next metaphor in which he says that all Christians are slaves bought () by the Lord (v. 23).32 Now there is no status reversal, but all are equal slaves. The differing metaphors prove the indifference of social positions in Paul’s thought. For Paul, it does not make any difference if one is a Jew or a gentile, a freeman or a slave. Among Christians all are equal (cf. 1  Cor. 12.13; Gal. 3.28).33 This sounds much like Epictetus who spoke of the equality of slaves and the free (Disc. 1.13.3–5). Both share the same logic. If social positions are indifferent, they also make indifferent distinctions between people. For Paul, however, this equality is possible only in Christ, whereas Epictetus bases the equality on human nature. This is a remarkable difference between Paul and Epictetus, but it does not erase the striking similarities.

task given to a philosopher. This is, however, not the case. Epictetus explicitly compares life to a time when a ship is anchored in the harbour. A passenger may spend time in the town but he or she should immediately go to the ship when the captain calls, or will be ‘thrown on board all tied up’ (Oldfather’s translation). As the time in the town is an analogy for life, the call means the time to die: one can meet death freely or ‘all tied up’. Still, an older person can miss the call without being hauled on board. An older person can live past the proper time, which is an obvious reference to a neglected suicide. Suicide is recommended by the Stoics in particular situations, especially in older age (Bonhöffer 1894: 29–39, 188–93; Benz 1929: 67–85; Rist 1969: 233–55). Thus, the older person in Epictetus’ parable is a person who has not committed suicide at the proper time. In Christian versions of Encheiridion even the older person is thrown on board (Epicteti Encheiridi Paraphrasis Christiana 10 = Boter 1999: 373; Encheiridion Christianum in Codice Vaticano Graeco 2231 Repertum 10 = Boter 1999: 398). The positive attitude towards suicide is removed because of its problematic nature in Christian ethics. Deming’s interpretation of the call cannot explain the erasure in the Christian version. As the call is a call to die, the analogy with 1 Cor. 7.17-24 is very loose. 32. The verb  denotes the buying of a slave for service, not a payment for freedom (Jones 1987: 31; Martin 1990: 63). Cf. 1 Cor. 6.19-20. 33. (Jaquette 1995: 170–2)



2.   Law and the Core of Epictetus’ Philosophy

31

Paradoxically enough, the indifference of social positions does not mean indifference in the use of those positions. Quite to the contrary, as we have seen above, both Paul and Epictetus admonish their audiences that one should stay in one’s position and fulfil the related duties because this is God’s call and commandment. Epictetus’ theory of value makes this paradox understandable: externals are indifferent as such, but their use is not, because God has commanded their use. It seems that Paul is influenced by the Stoic theory of value. Or is he? We should note Paul’s eschatological tone in some verses that come after. (29) I mean, brothers and sisters, the appointed time has grown short; from now on, let even those who have wives be as though they had none, (30) and those who mourn as though they were not mourning, and those who rejoice as though they were not rejoicing, and those who buy as though they had no possessions, (31) and those who deal with the world as though they had no dealings with it (      ). For the present form of this world is passing away.

Again, we encounter a paradoxical thought that one should do something as though not doing it. The impetus behind the thought, however, is not any theory of value, but imminent eschatological change. Wolfgang Schrage has argued that this latter paradox should not be understood in a Stoic context but in an apocalyptical one.34 He takes apocalypticism and Stoicism as alternatives which cannot be combined. I question Schrage’s view. To be sure, Epictetus did not combine apocalypticism and Stoicism. He did not have an apocalyptical worldview. Yet, eschatology and even imminent eschatology was not absolutely alien to the Stoics. Seneca thought that ‘there will be no long delay in the destruction’ (Nat. 3.30.5). He waited for the end of the world in the near future. At least Seneca could combine Stoic moral theories and the imminent end of the world. Many scholars have admitted that Paul’s apocalyptical teaching is connected with Stoicism.35 The Stoic theory of value is quite suitable for an apocalypticism which envisions the destruction of the whole world. It is natural to take externals as indifferent and – at the same time – say that it is not indifferent how we live in this evanescent world. Paul believed that people are responsible for their deeds at the last judgement. The Stoic theory of value fit with this apocalyptical conviction. Paul’s reasoning in 1 Cor. 7.17-24 is influenced by Stoicism. The similarities between Paul and Epictetus are not superficial, but rather extend to the heart of Stoic moral philosophy. Paul presupposes the Stoic theory of value which is the core of Epictetus’ philosophy. Paul’s reasoning has, of course, a Christian flavour. Thus, 1 Cor. 7.17-24 does not represent Stoicism in a strict sense, but represents a Christian adaptation of Stoicism. 34. (Schrage 1964) 35. (Braun 1962; Gretenkord 1981: 293–7; Vollenweider 1989: 242–3; Deming 1995a: 177–97; Jaquette 1995: 173–9; Weber 1999: 343–7)

32

Paul and Epictetus on Law

2.2.2. Apostleship, Freedom and Law In 1 Corinthians 8 Paul discusses the food given to idols as offerings. He maintains that sacrificial food is not harmful because there are no idols or gods. In principle, Christians have a right ( ) to eat it. In practice, however, one has to abstain from such food since it is a stumbling block ( ) for some Christians (v. 9). One has to waive one’s right to eat it.36 The connection between 1 Corinthians 8 and 1 Corinthians 9 is somewhat unclear. Paul does not discuss sacrificial food, but his own rights as an apostle. Schrage has summed up the scholarly discussion on the connection. He claims quite convincingly that in 1 Corinthians 9, Paul presents himself as an example of the waiving of one’s rights which he has urged in the previous chapter.37 Paul argues that an apostle has the right to live by working as an apostle. Paul, however, tells that he has waived his right ( ) so that he would not ‘put an obstacle (  cf.  ) in the way of the gospel of Christ’ (v. 12). Lincoln E. Galloway has recently shown in his book Freedom in the Gospel (2004) that there are numerous themes common to popular philosophy in 1 Corinthians 9. In the following, I discuss the references to the Torah in 1 Cor. 9.8-10. In 1 Cor. 9.7, Paul gives examples from different walks of life that show that everyone gets sustenance from his or her work. Paul does not draw an explicit conclusion, but it seems clear that the point is that even an apostle should be allowed to get sustenance from working as a preacher. The implicit conclusion is asserted by the references he makes to the Torah. (8) Do I say this on human authority? Does not the law also say the same? (9) For it is written in the law of Moses, ‘You shall not muzzle an ox while it is treading out the grain’. Is it for oxen that God is concerned? (10) Or does he not speak entirely for our sake? It was indeed written for our sake, for whoever plows should plow in hope and whoever threshes should thresh in hope of a share in the crop.

Paul says that the answer to the question of sustenance can be found in normal life and from the Torah. In fact, the answer is only rhetorically based on the Torah. Paul must know the conclusion of his scriptural interpretation beforehand. How could he otherwise understand the commandment to feed the oxen (Deut. 25.4) as a commandment to ensure a preacher’s sustenance? It is equally difficult to understand the reference to the hope of a peasant as a reference to the apostles. There is no such passage in the Torah or in any document known to us. It is clear that Paul’s view on sustenance is based on everyday life: everyone gets sustenance from his or her work (v. 7). Paul needs the Torah only as a rhetorical assurance to emphasize that his claim is supported by something 36. On the Stoic views and 1 Corinthians 8, see Jaquette (1995: 137–53) and Malherbe (1995: 233–8). 37. (Schrage 1995: 278–83) Cf. Aejmelaeus (2000: 149–50) and Sandelin (2003: 109).



2.   Law and the Core of Epictetus’ Philosophy

33

other than human reasoning ( ).38 Through this he ensures that the right of the apostles to get sustenance from their work is not based only on his human view but on God’s commandment. The commandment, however, is interpreted as promoting a practice based upon mundane human life. In fact, the underlying reasoning is similar to that in 1 Cor. 7.17-24, where the right moral is deduced from existing reality: one’s social position is God’s will and one has to fulfil the assignment given by God. In both passages the existing state of affairs is the real authority. Though the Torah is only a rhetorical device in 1 Cor. 9.7-10, it is portrayed as authoritative to Jews, and – what is striking – gentiles alike. The Torah gives divine decrees on sustenance that should be followed by all Christians. In 1 Cor. 7.18-19 this was otherwise: circumcision, a focal commandment of the Torah, binds only the Jews. This difference, however, is merely ostensible. Surely, Paul did not really mean in 1 Cor. 9.8-10 that the gentiles should obey everything in the Torah. Some verses later (1 Cor. 9.19-21) he presents a more liberal view. Moreover, the reference to the Torah seems to be rhetoric without any deep argumentative weight. The reference to the Torah in 1  Cor. 9.7-10 does not mean that the Scriptures guide Paul’s ‘human’ reasoning. To the contrary, the ‘human’ reasoning drives the interpretation of the Torah. The Torah has only a rhetorical role similar to what Epictetus says about the law of God in Disc. 1.29.4. Epictetus argues philosophically but ends his reasoning by referring to the law of God: ‘If you wish any good thing, get it from yourself’. The law to which Epictetus refers may mean something like ‘do not steal’, but the previous reasoning suggests a different meaning for it. Thus, Epictetus’ moral guidelines are not derived from God’s commandment, but from philosophical reasoning. Analogically, Paul is guided by his ‘philosophical’ reasoning, and the Torah is only an ancillary. As I said above, it becomes clear in 1 Cor. 9.19-21 that the Torah is not really a binding authority for gentile Christians. In these verses, we can also hear an echo of the Stoic theory of value which was clearly present in 1 Corinthians 7. In 1 Cor. 9.19-21 Paul describes his different missionary strategies among Jews and among gentiles: (19) For though I am free with respect to all, I have made myself a slave to all, so that I might win more of them. (20) To the Jews I became as a Jew, in order to win Jews. To those under the law I became as one under the law (though I myself am not under the law) so that I might win those under the law. (21) To those outside the law I became as one outside the law (though I am not free from God’s law but am under Christ’s law) so that I might win those outside the law.

Paul’s adaptability has a place in Greco-Roman philosophical ideals. Adaptability is usually linked with Cynics, though it is also well attested by other 38. (Räisänen 1987: 68)

34

Paul and Epictetus on Law

schools.39 In this context, it is natural that Paul’s view on law is linked with philosophical views, especially Stoic ones.40 According to Paul, obedience to the Torah is something like a cultural feature of one group, namely ‘those under the law’, who are quite certainly the Jews mentioned before.41 ‘Law’ denotes the Torah in v. 20 and in the beginning of v. 21. ‘Those outside the law’ are the gentiles who do not follow the commandments of the Torah. Paul portrays the two groups, Jews and gentiles, as equal; adherence to the Torah makes no difference. The Torah is an indifferent matter, comparable to Epictetus’ externals. The Torah as such is indifferent, but the use of it is not, so in certain situations it is reasonable to follow its commands. In 1  Cor. 9.21, the word ‘law’ gets an unintentional connotation. Paul’s expression ‘outside the law’ () could be misunderstood as ‘lawlessness’, which has a connotation of sin, transgression and crime.42 Paul hastens to define the right meaning. Although he is outside the Torah, he is never outside God’s law: he is under Christ’s law. Clearly, for Paul, God’s law and Christ’s law are identical. They are a divine law which differs from the Torah.43 Paul is bound by God’s moral principles in the same way that Epictetus is bound by God’s law in using externals. Paul’s divine law is a rhetorical device to escape the misgivings of a life without moral principles. It is a vague reference to some principles, but it does not denote any exact code, as Räisänen rightly notes. God’s law and Christ’s law indicate that Paul is bound by God’s will, which ‘has something to do with Christ’.44 Despite the vague reference to some moral principles, Paul had something in mind when speaking of the divine law. In the context, Paul describes his work as an apostle. Strikingly, he does not identify himself with those ‘under the law’ or those ‘outside the law’, but his lifestyle depends on the requirements of the situation in his missionary work. Paul’s changing conduct is aimed at ‘winning’ as many as possible. However, the chameleon-like apostleship is controlled by the divine law. We encounter a similar thought to that in 1 Cor. 7.19 and 39. (Malherbe 1989: 100; Martin 1990: 86–116; Downing 1998: 186) 40. Martin’s (1990: 133) rejection of the Stoic interpretation is based on two arguments: (1) the previous verses 16-18 are not consistent with moral philosophy and (2) the pervasive issue of ch. 9 is the inappropriateness of persons of high status behaving like persons of low status. I will show that verses 16-18 are consistent with Stoicism. It is also natural that Paul defends his behaviour as a low-status person with Stoic theories of the indifference of status. 41. (Schrage 1995: 341–2) 42. Cf. 2 Thess. 2.8; 1 Tim. 1.9; 2 Pet. 2.8; Lindbeck (1990: 106). 43. (Räisänen 1992: 123) 44. (Räisänen 1987: 81) Cf. Conzelmann (1981: 198). This does not mean a command to love one’s neighbour, because there is no indication of that. Cf. Schrage (1995: 345), and Wolff (1996: 203–4).



2.   Law and the Core of Epictetus’ Philosophy

35

in Epictetus’ texts, which relate one’s social position to God’s law or God’s commandment. Paul’s lifestyle is connected to the divine law. What is missing is a notion of the apostleship as an indifferent external thing. This is, however, not a wonder since apostleship is no ‘normal’ social position. Paul’s normal, indifferent social position was that of an artisan. Paul’s view on apostleship is comparable to Epictetus’ view on God’s witness. Epictetus does not say that the position of God’s witness is indifferent. The divine law does not limit Paul’s freedom. Clearly, he is free in relation to all people. But how can he be free and at the same time bound to his calling as an apostle? He discusses this question in 1 Cor. 9.16-18, just before he takes up the issue of ‘under the law’ and ‘outside the law’. His reasoning again has a Stoic flavour, similar to that of Epictetus. (16) If I proclaim the gospel, this gives me no ground for boasting, for an obligation is laid on me, and woe to me if I do not proclaim the gospel! (17) For if I do this of my own will, I have a reward; but if not of my own will, I am entrusted with a commission. (18) What then is my reward? Just this: that in my proclamation I may make the gospel free of charge, so as not to make full use of my rights in the gospel.

Since God’s and Christ’s law is a divine requirement to be an apostle, it is seemingly identical with the obligation () of the apostle to proclaim the gospel. Paul could refrain from proclaiming the gospel, but it would cause suffering (‘woe to me …’). Because of the suffering there is only one alternative in practice, which is to proclaim the gospel.45 Although the obligation is compulsory, it does not mean a lack of freedom. In v. 17 Paul makes a distinction between willing () and unwilling () adjustment to the compulsion. Those who adjust willingly get a reward or pay, but unwilling service is like household slavery.46 It is disputed whether Paul identifies himself with the willing worker or with the unwilling household slave. Many scholars prefer the latter alternative. They seem to presuppose that the compulsion () self-evidently means an unwilling () adjustment.47 I prefer the former alternative since Paul clearly gets a reward: the proclamation of the gospel free of charge. Paul proclaims voluntarily and gets his reward, surely an unusual one.48 He willingly 45. (Schrage 1995: 324) 46. (Martin 1990: 71–6) According to Galloway (2004: 184–6)  does not refer to a slave. The reason for this interpretation is that the word has a wide range of meanings in the philosophical context. These are, however, not enough to establish the meaning. First of all, there is a hierarchy: someone entrusts the  to Paul. Secondly, it is a compulsory task – without a doubt an indication of slavery! 47. (Conzelmann 1981: 194–5; Martin 1990: 71; Sandnes 1991: 122–3; Schrage 1995: 324–5; Wolff 1996: 200–1) 48. (Malherbe 1995: 249) Aejmelaeus (2000: 157–9) leaves it open whether Paul proclaims willingly or unwillingly. He thinks that the end of v. 18 is not a real answer to the previous question of the reward, but is rhetoric that frees him from the complexities of his reasoning.

36

Paul and Epictetus on Law

complies with the necessity, with God’s and Christ’s law that compels him to proclaim the gospel. Willing obedience to God is a common theme in Epictetus and he uses similar words to express a thought similar to Paul’s.49 In Disc. 3.24.98, Epictetus describes the man who obeys God willingly as a free servant, not as a slave. Disc. 4.3.9 makes it clear that the person who willingly obeys God is free. ‘I am a free man and a friend of God, so as to obey Him of my own free will ()’. A bit later he adds, ‘I cannot transgress any of His commands’ (section 10). Epictetus’ words and thoughts are similar to Paul’s, in which he willingly adjusts himself to the compulsion given by God’s and Christ’s law. Paul clearly knows the Stoic theory of inner freedom amidst external compulsion. In subsections 2.2.1 and 2.2.2 of this book I have read Paul’s teachings on law in their textual context, which is clearly coloured by Stoicism. Paul utilizes the Stoic theory of value which is shared by Epictetus. This theory is visible especially in 1  Cor. 7.17-24, but also in 1  Cor. 9.19-21. As 1  Cor. 9.21 and possibly 1 Cor. 7.19 show, the terms ‘law’ and ‘commandments’ are not always references to the Torah. In both cases the Stoic point of view gives a reasonable horizon for the interpretation. When Paul speaks about the Torah, his perspective has a Stoic dimension in which the Torah is either a matter of indifference or it is cited only as a rhetorical device. In the latter case the strategy of interpretation is much like the strategy in Disc. 1.29.4 where the meaning of the divine law is predetermined by the previous reasoning. Nevertheless, there is one point at the heart of Paul’s reasoning that cannot be understood from the Stoic perspective: Christ. In 1 Cor. 7.22-23, Christ is the one who secures the indifference of social positions and real equality. Thus, for Paul the indifference of positions and equality concern only Christians, not all people like they do for Epictetus. In 1 Cor. 7 and 9, Paul is not a Stoic, but a Christian Stoic. His reasoning has a Stoic colouring, and law is also treated along philosophical lines. When talking about Pauline law we should take this point into account.

49. Galloway (2004: 180–4) presents the terminology very well.

Chapter 3 The Fundamentals of Law 3.1. God and Nature in Epictetus In this section I will deal with the fundamentals of law in Epictetus’ philosophy: Stoic theology and nature. I will also study two minor points – vice lists and the condemnation of homosexual practice – which illustrate the application of the fundamentals. In section 3.2, I will prove the Stoic flavour of Paul’s reasoning in Romans 1 and 2.

3.1.1. Proper Theological View In Disc. 1.12.1–7, Epictetus defines a theological view which gives the proper framework for his ethics.1 He begins by listing different views on gods or god. What concerns him is not the number of gods but a theology suitable for ethics.2 (1) Concerning gods there are some who say that the divine does not so much as exist; and others, that it exists, indeed, but is inactive and indifferent, and takes forethought for nothing; (2) and a third set, that it exists and takes forethought, though only for great and heavenly things and in no case for terrestrial things; and a fourth set, that it also takes forethought for things terrestrial and the affairs of men, but only in a general way, and not for the individual in particular; (3) and a fifth set, to which Odysseus and Socrates belonged, who say ‘Nor when I move am I concealed from thee’. (4) We must, therefore, first of all enquire about each of these statements, to see whether it is sound or not sound. (5) For if gods do not exist, how can it be an end to follow the gods? And if they exist, indeed, but care for nothing, how even thus will that conclusion be sound? (6) But if, indeed, they both exist and exercise care, yet there is no communication from them to men, – yes, and, by Zeus, to me personally, – how even in this case can our conclusion still be sound? (7) The good and excellent man must, therefore, inquire into all these things, before he subordinates his own will to him who administers the universe, precisely as good citizens submit to the law of the state (       ) (Disc. 1.12.1–7).

1. It is possible that sections 1–7 were originally independent of the rest of the discourse (Schmeller 1987: 167–8). Anyway, the sections form a compact whole. 2. In the traditional Stoic way there does not seem to be any difference between the plural and the singular. See Bonhöffer (1894: 78) and Long (2002: 173). Cf., e.g., SVF 2.1012.

38

Paul and Epictetus on Law

The list of different theological views (sections 1–3) begins with atheism. In ancient discussions nearly every differing theological view could be labelled as atheism (cf. Ign., Trall 10.1), but in Epictetus’ analytical list atheism should be understood literally.3 The second view is probably the Epicurean one.4 The third view probably refers to Sceptics and/or to Aristotle,5 while the fourth reminds one of the views of some Stoics like, for example, Chrysippus, who had also views closer to the fifth alternative.6 Without doubt, Epictetus believed that, like himself, Chrysippus supported the fifth alternative.7 It is the alternative that is – according to Epictetus – also supported by Odysseus and Socrates, Epictetus’ heroes. The quotation is from Odysseus’ prayer to Athene (Homer, Od. 10.279–280), but it is relevant also for Socrates since it recalls his thoughts in Xenophon’s works (Mem. 1.1.9; Symp. 4.48–9).8 In sections 4–6 Epictetus ponders the alternatives with the help of Zeno’s principle of ‘to follow the gods is man’s end’ (Disc. 1.20.15 = SVF 1.182).9 Alternatives 1 to 3 are rejected as incompatible with Zeno’s principle. Epictetus keeps silent about the fourth alternative, perhaps because it is compatible with the principle, but not with his view. He accepts only the fifth alternative. Disc. 1.6 and 1.16 – both on providence – present God as taking care of the smallest details. After pondering the alternatives, Epictetus draws the conclusion that one has to live in the universe like a good citizen lives in the state. The analogy between the universe and state was a commonplace in Stoicism.10 Epictetus understood the state to be a miniature copy of the universe (Disc. 2.5.26). It is noteworthy that God, ‘who administers the universe’, is analogical to the law in a state: God represents the law of the universe. This was the standard view in Stoicism and it does not rule out some personal elements in the concept of God.11 3. (Dobbin 1998: 137) 4. (Dobbin 1998: 137) Cf. Lucretius, De Rerum Natura 2.646–9. Even Aristotle’s view of God (Met. 12.7 [1072a–3a]) could be maliciously described as inactive and indifferent. 5. (Dobbin 1998: 138) 6. (Compare, e.g., SVF 2.937 and 2.1178; Dragona-Monachou 1994: 4430, 4445; Dobbin 1998: 139) It is, however, not clear if Chrysippus really meant that God neglects some minor things (Knuuttila and Sihvola 2000: 142 n. 14). 7. Bonhöffer (1894: 2) says that Epictetus took Chrysippus’ texts as a holy codex (‘ein heiliger Kodex’) comparable to the Bible in Christianity. Bonhöffer’s view is possibly exaggerated (Hershbell 1993: 145). Anyway, Epictetus deeply respected Chrysippus’ teaching (e.g., Ench. 49; Long 2002: 44–6). 8. (Schweingruber 1943: 63; Döring 1979: 54 n. 39; Oldfather 1995: 91 n. 1) In Symp. 4.48–9 the thought is uttered by Hermogenes, but Socrates agrees. 9. Long (2002: 186 n. 6) says that Epictetus ‘is hardly giving a verbatim citation but rather enrolling the Stoic founder as his authority’. 10. (Dobbin 1998: 142) 11. Long (2002: 153–6; cf. Bonhöffer 1894: 80) has recently described Epictetus’ many-sided



3.   The Fundamentals of Law

39

For Epictetus, it is clear that one can detect God and his law by seeing the structure of the universe. This thought presumes that God – personally or impersonally – is present in the universe. When ridiculing the desire to see Pheidias’ statue of Zeus in Olympia, Epictetus says, ‘Yet when there is no need to travel at all, but where Zeus is already, and is present in his works (  ), will you not yearn to behold these works and know them (  )?’ (Disc. 1.6.24). Thus, it is possible to understand God and his law in the universe. There are, however, some prerequisites for the right understanding of the universe.12 From everything that happens in the universe it is easy for a man to find occasion to praise providence, if he has within himself these two qualities: the faculty of taking a comprehensive view of what has happened in each individual instance, and the sense of gratitude ( ) (Disc. 1.6.1).

The reference to gratitude is especially worth noting. Epictetus speaks of it elsewhere, too (Disc. 1.4.32; 1.12.32; 1.16.7; 1.19.25; 2.23.5; 4.4.18). Gratitude is a basic attitude, the lack of which will destroy the right understanding of providence. God and his law are not only a matter of understanding, but also a matter of gratitude and reverence. ‘The good and excellent man’ subordinates his thinking ( ; ‘will’ in Oldfather) to God, that is, to the law of the universe. It is important to subordinate one’s thinking since we have to learn to ‘desire each thing exactly as it happens’ and to ‘keep our thinking ( ) in harmony with what happens’ (Disc. 1.12.15–17; transl. revised). To follow the gods is to desire that which happens. One should inquire into reality as divine law in order to know what one should desire.

3.1.2. Divine Law and Vice Lists ‘Let us obey God, that we rest not under His wrath (  )’ (Disc. 3.1.37; cf. Disc. 2.8.14; 3.22.2). God’s wrath should be understood in a figurative sense. Disobedience to divine governance is punished by divine law. Punishments are part and parcel of the vices themselves, which becomes clear in Epictetus’ lists of vicious emotions, usually called passions ( ). Two lists illustrate how the divine law punishes vices (Disc. 3.11.1–3; 3.24.42–43). I concentrate on Disc. 3.24.42–43 which brings out the essentials for the comparison with Paul. I make only brief remarks on the other text. In Disc. 3.24 Epictetus is having a discussion with one of his students (section 78). The student feels homesick, though a Stoic should not have such emotions (sections 1–12). The student says that it is pleasant to be at home, which makes Epictetus label him an adherent of a philosophy of pleasure (section 37), unmisviews of God which vacillate between personal and impersonal concepts. On Stoicism in general, see SVF 1.162 (Zeno); 2.1076; 3.4 (Chrysippus). 12. (Hijmans 1959: 16; Dragona-Monachou 1994: 4445)

40

Paul and Epictetus on Law

takably a reference to Epicureans. Pleasure ( ) is one of the four main passions and thus a vicious state of mind in Stoic philosophy (see below). Epictetus concludes that the student is only outwardly a Stoic. This kind of pretence will be punished, like those who falsely claim Roman citizenship (section 41). The punishment for a false claim to citizenship could even be death (Suetonius, Claud. 25). The following punishments are comparable to this severe () punishment. (42)                   13 (43)    ‘                          ’. (42) The divine and mighty and inescapable law is the law which exacts the greatest penalties from those who are guilty of the greatest offences. (43) Now what are its terms? ‘Let him who makes pretence to things which in no wise concern him be a braggart, let him be a vainglorious man; let him who disobeys the divine governance be abject, be a slave, suffer grief, envy, pity, – in a word, be miserable and lament’ (Disc. 3.24.42–43; transl. revised).

When the student pretends to be a Stoic he looks like a brave man, but, in fact, through his pretence he becomes something else: he is a braggart and a vainglorious man. The punishment for doing wrong is that the student becomes a wrongdoer.14 In other words, the punishment is included in the offence and is really inescapable. The pretence is a corollary of the student’s homesickness. The student has become a counterfeit Stoic because of his non-Stoic longing for home. Homesickness is also the reason for another charge, disobedience to the divine governance (  ). Disobedience is a mental state opposed to the subordination of one’s will ‘to him who administers ( ) the universe’ (Disc. 1.12.7). Consequently, the punishments are also mental states: vicious emotions. Abjectness and slavery are references to the student’s family ties. First, he wants to ease his mother’s longing by going home. This, however, would mean being a slave to the family (sections 58–60). Secondly, the student made himself a slave and an abject man in front of the person who has authority to give him leave to go home (section 74). The student’s state of mind is exactly contrary to that of Diogenes when he was abducted by pirates. There was nothing slavish and abject about Diogenes (sections 66–73). 13. There is a Greek question mark (;) in Oldfather and in other editions. This is by no means necessary as the question may end before the quotation begins. Oldfather puts the question mark in his translation rightly, but strangely did not capitalize the beginning letter of the following sentence (‘Or is that impossible? whereas the divine and mighty…’). 14. Cf. Bonhöffer (1894: 9; 1911: 310).



3.   The Fundamentals of Law

41

Abjectness and slavery follow from the wrong desire to leave for home. The enslaving desire (; SVF 3.397 Chrysippus) is referred to even in the title of the discourse, ‘That We Ought Not Yearn () for the Things Which Are Not Under Our Control’ (cf. sections 82–84). The enslaving desire is a deep mental tie15 which causes the three passions: grief, envy, and pity. Grief ( ) is one of the four main categories of passion in Stoic ethics.16 Envy and pity are subcategories of grief. The student takes pity on those who long for him at home (sections 4, 22), but envy is unrecognizable in his mental state. It is probable that Epictetus refers to some list of passions where envy was enscribed before pity. The order of these passions varies in lists (SVF 3.412–416 Chrysippus), but Epictetus knows or uses only one order (envy, pity) when he mentions these passions together (Disc. 2.17.26; 3.22.13; 3.24.43; 4.1.4). In the present text, Epictetus seems to mention envy only because it constitutes a pair with pity in some list of passions. Misery and lamentation summarize grief and its subcategories. It is grief that makes one feel miserable and give lament. Epictetus seems to be conscious of systematic vice lists, but his list, however, differs from the systematic lists in two ways. Firstly, Epictetus’ list aims at characterizing the vices of a particular person whereas the systematic lists try to list all possible vices. Thus, the systematic lists include a huge variety of passions which are missing in Epictetus’ list. Secondly, the systematic lists include only passions while Epictetus’ list includes both passions and deeds. Yet his focus is clearly on passions. The deeds are presented as being consequences of a vicious state of mind. The differences from the systematic lists also become visible in Disc. 3.11, which consists of two independent parts. The first part includes a list of vices. (1) There are certain punishments, assigned as it were by law (  ), for those who are disobedient to the divine dispensation (  ). (2) ‘Whoever shall regard as good anything but the things that fall within the scope of his moral purpose, let him envy, yearn (), flatter, feel disturbed; whoever shall regard anything else as evil, let him grieve, sorrow, lament, be unhappy’. (3) Nevertheless, for all that we are so severely punished, we cannot desist (Disc. 3.11.1–3, transl. revised).

The passage has many features similar to those in Disc. 3.24.41–43. Again, we have a list of punishments which, in fact, are vices. A vice is identical with a punishment. The punishments are not by law, but as though by law. Seemingly, it is not a question of divine law but of a comparison to state law like in the reference to punishment in Disc. 3.24.41. In both passages, Epictetus emphasizes the severity () of the punishments. 15. (Bonhöffer 1911: 231; Pohlenz 1949a: 202) 16. The main categories of passion are wrong desire ( ), pleasure ( ), fear ( ) and grief ( ) (SVF 3.386–88, 391–94; Sandbach 1989: 61–2; Nussbaum 1994: 386; Forschner 1995: 121; Brennan 1998: 30–1; Sorabji 2000: 29–30).

42

Paul and Epictetus on Law

At first sight, the vice list seems to be a systematic one. The list is divided into two groups, both of which include four vices. The symmetry, however, is only formal, while the content is incoherent. In the first half there are two vices, envy and vicious desire ( ), that are also mentioned in systematic lists. The latter is one of the four main passions while the former is a subcategory of grief. Disturbance is not mentioned in the lists and flattering is a deed. In the second part, grief is one of the main passions, followed by sorrow ( ), a subcategory of grief. The two subsequent vices are not mentioned in the systematic lists. Lamentation is not a passion but a deed, and unhappiness should be understood as a general characterization of the passions. The Greek verb for unhappiness () is the same as in Disc. 3.24.43, where it was used as a summary of passions. Epictetus’ vice list in Disc. 3.11.2 differs from the systematic lists in the same way as does Disc. 3.24.43. First, the systematic lists include vices that are missing in Epictetus. Second, Epictetus includes not only passions like in the systematic lists but also deeds, despite his focus on passions. The differences between Epictetus and the systematic vice lists are due to Epictetus’ aim. He does not provide theoretical descriptions of vices, but pedagogical devices to illustrate vices and punishments. Lastly, we must ask what the relationship is between Epictetus’ theory of value and the vice lists. The case of the student in Disc. 3.24 is illustrative, since it shows that the root of all vices is a wrong judgement on the value of externals. According to Epictetus, externals, like the student’s home and mother, are neither good nor bad but indifferent. They should not arouse passions like longing. Passion, a vicious emotional state, is a result of a wrong value judgement. In general, every desire ( ) follows a judgement ( ). The goodness or badness of a desire is dependent on the goodness or badness of the value judgement. If you make a wrong value judgement you get passion. Thus, passion is a consequence of intellectual fallacy in value judgements. This is the so-called first field of study in Epictetus’ pedagogy.17 The passions are followed by either appropriate ( ) or inappropriate (  ) deeds – the difference is dependent on the value judgement. This is the second field of study. The third field of study deals with right knowledge, but the vice lists have nothing to do with it. The first field (state of mind) and the second field (deeds) are mentioned in the lists. At least these two fields have early Stoic models.18

3.1.3. Law of Nature As we have seen, God’s law and the order of the universe are closely tied to each other. It is no surprise that Epictetus also speaks of the law of nature (Disc. 17. On the three fields, see Bonhöffer (1890: 22–8), Hadot (1991: 85–9; 1998: 86–98), Dobbin (1998: 92–4) and Long (2002: 112–18). 18. (Inwood 1985: 115–19)



3.   The Fundamentals of Law

43

1.29.19; 3.17.6).19 He speaks of the law of life in a passage in which law and nature are closely associated with each other. (1)  20                          (2)                            (1) As someone was reading the hypothetical arguments,21 Epictetus said, This also is a law governing hypotheses — that we must accept what the hypothesis or premiss demands. But much more important is the following law of life — that we must do what nature demands. (2) For if we wish in every matter and circumstance to observe what is in accordance with nature, it is manifest that in everything we should make it our aim neither to avoid that which nature demands, nor to accept that which is in conflict with nature (Disc. 1.26.1–2).

The law governing hypothetical arguments does not refer to logical principles, but to the metarule that ‘one must accept the consequences of one’s hypothesis’.22 Since the hypothesis is a theoretical presumption, the conclusion of a hypothetical argument is also hypothetical. The conclusion is not concretely true, and it does not require a concrete action.23 When the premise is true in concrete reality or in nature, like Epictetus says, the conclusion is also concretely true. Thus, the conclusion requires action and ‘we must do what nature demands’. In section 2, Epictetus repeats the same thought, asserting that when the premise is ‘what is in accordance with nature’ (  ), we should neither avoid the conclusion nor accept something in conflict with nature. Nature sometimes means the universe, and sometimes means the real character of an individual person or a particular thing.24 One can find the right ethical principles by inquiring into nature. The law of life is the law of nature, and the law of nature sets down ethical requirements. In the present passage, nature is an ethical norm which a person can choose to follow or ignore. This is not 19. Koester (1968: 530) refers to both passages. ‘In both instances Epictetus quotes as a Law of Nature the same proverbial triviality ... This confirms the fact that even in Stoic thought, the concept of a “law of nature” which is the superior guide and criterion for morality and institutional law does not exist’. How does the fact that a Stoic philosopher speaks of the law of nature confirm the fact that such a law did not exist in Stoic philosophy? 20. Schenkl adds  after  in his older edition (1894), but waives the addition in the latter edition (1916 [= 1965]). The interpretation (‘As someone is reading …’) is clear without the addition since the subject of the genetive absolute is not identical with the subject of the leading verb (Smyth 1984: 457 [§ 2058]). Epictetus is clearly the subject of . 21. Epictetus may also mean a treatise written on hypothetical arguments (Barnes 1997: 90). 22. (Räisänen 1992: 76; cf. Barnes 1997: 90–1) 23. (Barnes 1997: 88–9; cf. Disc. 1.25.11–12) 24. (Bonhöffer 1894: 10; Long 2002: 174)

44

Paul and Epictetus on Law

always the case. Nature is not always this kind of ethical norm. In some cases it is impossible to ignore nature as it compels a person to follow it. Epicurus, who, according to Epictetus, is the most immoral man, could not act against nature in every matter. Epictetus says that for Epicurus there is no natural fellowship between human beings, but that despite this doctrine Epicurus acted socially when writing the doctrines for other people. ‘What, then, was it that roused Epicurus from his slumbers and compelled him to write what he did? What else but that which is the strongest thing in men — nature, which draws a man to do her will though he groans and is reluctant’ (Disc. 2.20.15). In the passage just quoted, nature is not an ethical norm that can be disregarded, but a compulsion that must be followed. There is, however, no contradiction between the conceptualization of nature as an ethical norm and as a compulsion. It is clear that nature does not compel Epicurus to be fully brave. He is compelled to follow nature only partly while being mostly immoral. Epictetus thinks that conscious moral consideration is needed for a fully virtuous life.25 Epictetus calls this moral consideration by many names which refer to the rational faculties. With the comparison with Paul in mind, I study only some of them. Once Epictetus uses the word   (Disc. 3.22.94), which denotes a person’s consciousness of his or her task and moral condition.26 Sometimes he uses the words   and  . They denote the consciousness which a person has of his or her own thoughts and inner condition – also in a moral sense.27 An example of moral consciousness can be found in Disc. 1.4. Someone admires a person who reads Chrysippus’ moral philosophy without help. Epi­ ctetus does not share this admiration since concentration on books leaves aside the consciousness of one’s moral condition. Why do you try to divert him from the consciousness ( ) of his own shortcomings? Are you not willing to show him the work of virtue (   ), that he may learn where to look for his progress? (Disc. 1.4.10)28

Consciousness of shortcomings and ‘the work of virtue’ are necessary prerequisites for moral progress. ‘The work of virtue’ means the right use of intellectual faculties as Epictetus explicates in section 11. Thus, ‘the work of virtue’ denotes right action. Nevertheless, the expression can also denote serenity, the result of 25. (Bonhöffer 1894: 130–1) 26. Bonhöffer (1911: 156; similarly Billerbeck 1978: 154; Eckstein 1983: 58) explicitly denies any moral connotation to the word. Yet the moral connotation is clear in Epictetus’ text. He says that a true Cynic has a consciousness of his moral life that justifies his frank speech (sections 94–6). Thus moral understanding is linked with the word. 27. (Bonhöffer 1890: 135–8) 28. The passage is uttered by Epictetus (Dobbin 1998: 94–5), not by an interlocutor as Old­ father supposes in his edition.



3.   The Fundamentals of Law

45

that action:29 ‘What is the work of virtue (   )? Serenity’ (Disc. 1.4.5).

3.1.4. Nature and Homosexual Practice Epictetus rarely uses the expression ‘the law of nature’, but many times he applies nature as a moral principle comparable to the law of nature. In this subsection, I illustrate the application of this principle with a concrete case which is also dealt with by Paul. The case is the moral judgement of homosexual practice: note this is not the judgement of homosexuality, which is a personal identity and a late concept. In ancient texts we encounter only homosexual desire and practice.30 This also pertains to Epictetus and Paul. Epictetus deals with homosexual practice incidentally in Disc. 2.10, the main theme of which is the position and duty of human beings. Every person is a citizen of the universe.31 What, then, is the profession of a citizen? To treat nothing as a matter of private profit, not to plan about anything as though he were a detached unit, but to act like the foot or the hand, which, if they had the faculty of reason and understood the constitution of nature (   ), would never exercise choice or desire in any other way but by reference to the whole (Disc. 2.10.4; cf. 1.6.15).

Epictetus also describes the universe as a theatre (cf. Disc. 1.29.41–47; fr. 11; Ench. 17), a common metaphor in antiquity.32 All people have their roles (  ) which are posed by the constitution of nature. The role is manifested in designations like son, brother, councillor, young, old, father, smith (sections 7–13). A practice improper for the designation destroys the role. Epictetus’ condemnation of homosexual practice is based on the designation ‘man’.                   ’     What is lost by a cinaedus? His manhood. And by the other partner? Beside a good many other things he also loses his manhood no less than the other (Disc. 2.10.17, transl. revised).

Epictetus describes a homosexual relationship in terms of a passive and an active partner. In Roman culture, the passive homosexual role was tolerated for young boys, although it was not favoured. For an adult man such a role was shameful. It was associated with a feminine appearance, effeminate mannerisms, and 29. (Oldfather 1995: 29 n. 2; cf. Bachmann 2005: 114–16) 30. (Halperin 2002) 31. On citizenship of the universe, see Stanton (1967). 32. E.g., Plato, Phileb. 50b; Cicero, Sen. 70; Maximus of Tyre, Dissertationes 1.1; Suetonius, Aug. 99.1; Marcus Aurelius 12.36; Diogenes Laertios 7.160. See also Bonhöffer (1911: 39 n. 1), Billerbeck (1978: 50–1) and Long (2002: 242–3)

46

Paul and Epictetus on Law

availability to other men. Nicknames for those passive men were many, for example, cinaedus ( ), which occurs in Epictetus’ text.33 Epictetus endorses the mainstream view that the role of the passive partner is unacceptable for an honourable man. What is striking is his negative judgement of the active partner. The active homosexual role was usually acceptable for men, but Epictetus condemns it. He stresses that the active partner loses his manhood ‘no less than the other’. Epictetus, however, does not clarify his claim. Equally unclear remains his claim that the active partner loses also ‘a good many other things’. The ‘other things’ are probably similar to what the adulterer loses according to the next section: the man of self-respect, the man of self-control, the gentleman. In Disc. 4.1.15–23, Epictetus describes how the active partner – both in homosexual and heterosexual relationships – must humiliate himself in striving for the favour of the beloved one. Whatever the ‘other things’ are, it is clear that Epictetus condemns all homosexual relationships whereas he approves of heterosexual relationships. In Disc. 1.6.9, Epictetus seems to think that the physical constitutions of men and women indicate the naturalness of heterosexual practice. He tries to prove the existence of providence with an argument from design. Many things are so marvellously constructed that there must be providence in the universe. One of those marvellous things is the heterosexual relationship.  ’                          And the male and the female, and the appetite of each for intercourse with the other, and the faculty which makes use of the organs which have been constructed for this purpose, do these things not reveal their artificer either? (Disc. 1.6.9, transl. revised)

Epictetus lists three factors which cohere with the heterosexual relationship: two sexes, ‘the faculty which makes use of the organs’, and the sexual appetite. The three factors come together in the heterosexual relationship and thus prove the existence of the divine artificer. When this short passage is read in the context of Epictetus’ philosophy we grasp his grounds for natural sex. This is important for our understanding of Paul. The two sexes are called ‘male’ and ‘female’ ( ,  ) instead of the common terms ‘man’ and ‘woman’. The expressions bring attention to the special characteristics of male and female, in this case to the genitals (‘the organs’) and the ‘faculty which makes use of the organs’ (  ).34 33. (Nissinen 1998: 70–3; Halperin 2002: 29–34) 34. Oldfather’s translation (‘faculty’) is probably inexact as Epictetus may refer to the ‘power’ that prepares genitals for sex (Dobbin 1998: 105).



3.   The Fundamentals of Law

47

The third factor Epictetus mentions is the appetite of both sexes for intercourse. We must read the terminology carefully in order to understand it. He calls this heterosexual appetite   which is a subcategory of  , desire in a general sense.35 While   can be natural or unnatural,   as its subcategory denotes natural (ergo morally acceptable) and involuntary desire. All involuntary desires are natural, as distinct from voluntary desires which are either natural or unnatural. Thus, Epictetus identifies heterosexual desire as a natural one. Keeping Paul in mind we must note that for Epictetus   denotes an unnatural desire. The unnatural desire is a subcategory of passion ( ), a voluntary and unnatural emotion. Thus,   is also voluntary. What is wrong in   is the wrong object of desire, for one thinks that something external is good as such and worth desiring. This is, in fact, a mistaken value judgement. No external thing, including sex, is good as such. External things are indifferent but their right use is not: sex is a matter of indifference, but conduct in sexual matters is not. As Epictetus clearly condemns same-sex relationships, they must involve a mistaken value judgement: the object is wrong. Thus, Epictetus must consider homosexual desire as a case of  . Disc. 1.6.9 makes visible why Epictetus condemns both the active and passive partner in the homosexual relationship. It is probable that Epictetus considered a homosexual relationship not compatible with the design of male and female. The difference between the sexes and the natural desire ( ) for heterosexual intercourse would be purposeless in homosexual practice. In this light, homosexual desire is a voluntary and unnatural . A voluntary desire does not mean a conscious value judgement against nature. I will later deal with consciousness during erring and the possibilities for moral progress in Epictetus’ philosophy. At this moment it is enough to note that one can free oneself from wrong desires by being conscious of their bad character and by training in new habits. Epictetus regarded Socrates as an exemplary man as he was able to bravely resist homosexual temptations. ‘Go to Socrates and mark him as he lies down beside Alcibiades and makes light of his youthful beauty. Bethink yourself how great a victory he once won’ (Disc. 2.18.22; cf. Plato, Symp. 219c).

3.2. Paul on God, Law and Nature in Romans 1 and 2 Max Pohlenz, the great scholar of Stoicism, has stated why Paul uses ‘Greek thinking’ (‘Griechische Gedanken’) in Romans 1–2. According to Pohlenz, the impetus is the exigent question on the relationship between gentiles and God’s 35. I present common Stoic terminology although Epictetus is sometimes imprecise in terminological matters (Bonhöffer 1890: 233–49, 278–84). In the analysed text,   has its common Stoic meaning (Bonhöffer 1890: 248; Sorabji 2000: 52–3).

48

Paul and Epictetus on Law

law.36 Every reader of Romans will easily see that the law and gentiles are important issues in the beginning of the epistle. Romans 1 ends with a statement on ‘God’s decree’ known to gentiles, and Romans 2 compares Jewish lawbreakers to those gentiles who do what the law requires. Next, we will take a closer look at Paul’s text in the light of Epictetus. God’s decree in Rom. 1.32 is at the end of a narrative of decline which is deeply coloured by Stoic ideas. We must look at the Stoic components in the narrative in order to understand God’s decree in its context.37 The Stoic connotations in Rom. 2.14 are acknowledged widely. Thus, we can jump more directly to the saying on law in v. 14 and see how the comparison with Epictetus will enrich our understanding. I claim that Paul’s condemnation of homosexual practice proves that when he speaks about natural knowledge of law he refers to the Stoic version of natural law. My analysis is fourfold, following the fourfold analysis of Epictetus’ view above. First, I analyse the loss of reverence for God discussed in Romans 1 which is the background of Paul’s ethical judgements on the gentiles. Secondly, I analyse the vice list given in Rom. 1.28-32, the items in which are said to be contrary to God’s decree (v. 32). Thirdly, I deal with the natural understanding of the Torah among gentiles in Rom. 2.12-16, and fourthly, the condemnation of homosexual practice in Rom. 1.26-27.

3.2.1. Gentile Loss of Reverence for God Stanley K. Stowers has shown that Paul’s narrative of decline in Romans 1 belongs to a fixed Greco-Roman tradition of the myth of the primeval Golden Age and subsequent degeneration. We meet the early model of decline narratives already in Hesiod. These stories were also varied among different philosophical schools like that of the Stoics. For example, Seneca comments on a decline story told by the Stoic Posidonius (Ep. 90).38 Quite naturally, philosophers used stories to illustrate their philosophical ideas. Did Paul illustrate philosophical ideas? Yes and no. Commentators have always maintained that Paul’s main point is the sinfulness of the gentile world, and that the closest parallel is Jewish criticism of pagan cults. This fact, however, does not rule out philosophical components in the narrative. The first and most strikingly philosophical component is the so-called natural theology of Rom. 1.19-20. Paul claims that the existence and attributes of God can be understood through the world. God’s ‘eternal power and divine nature, invisible though they are, have been understood and seen through the things (   ) he has made’ (v. 20). 36. (Pohlenz 1949b: 70) 37. Cf. Engberg-Pedersen (2000: 211): ‘We see that there is much more of a theory involved in such a passage as 1.18–32 than is usually recognized’. 38. (Stowers 1994: 85, 97–100)



3.   The Fundamentals of Law

49

There is no idea of grasping God beyond the world. At least some of God’s attributes – and even God himself via the attributes? – are present in the world and it is these attributes of which Paul speaks. Thus, God is not understood outside the world, but through the world. The created world is the revelation (v. 19) God has given to humanity. Human understanding can grasp God when analysing the world.39 Natural theology of this sort was common in antiquity. Paul the Jew was surely conscious of such theology in the Scriptures, like Psalms 19 and 29, which, however, speak of the voice of God in the world. Paul’s natural theology based on seeing is closer to Greek philosophical views (e.g., Xenophon, Mem. 1.4; 4.3; Plato, Tim. 47b–c). For Plato, ‘seeing’ is a metaphorical expression because God belongs to the invisible world of ideas. These ideas can be understood () but not seen () (Plato, Resp. 507b). Therefore, when Plato speaks of seeing ideas, it cannot be understood in a concrete sense. There is a division between visible and invisible in Paul, but we should not understand it in the Platonic sense.40 Seeing the invisible is surely a wordplay which cannot denote concrete seeing. Yet the invisible is ‘seen’ only by seeing the concrete world. Thus seeing is also meant in the concrete sense. Horst Balz and Gerhard Schneider aptly state that ‘ in the wordplay denotes physical perception and also “(in)sight” into God’s essential nature through observation of his works. The concern is not only with “spiritual perception” ’.41 Anton Fridrichsen has shown that Paul’s stance is close to the Stoic stance which is present, for example, in Epictetus’ thought.42 Epictetus says that Zeus ‘is present in his works (  )’ which can be seen and understood (  ) (Disc. 1.6.24). Thus, God can be grasped through the world, a thought similar to Paul’s. This kind of natural theology was common in Stoicism and its relationship to the concrete study of the world is evidenced by the fact that theology was a part of physics in Stoicism.43 Epictetus says that gratitude ( ) is a prerequisite for the right understanding of God (Disc. 1.6.1). Paul does not say that gratitude is a prerequisite for the understanding of God, but his line of thought is quite closely related. The gentiles did not honour and give thanks (  ) to God, but became futile in their thoughts (v. 21). There is a connection between thanksgiving (and honouring) and knowledge of God, but their exact relationship is left open. Yet thanksgiving is not a consequence 39. (Cranfield 1975: 114–15; Bornkamm 1985: 146; Fridrichsen 1994: 164–5) 40. Pohlenz (1949b: 71–2) understands the division in the Platonic sense. 41. (Balz and Schneider 1991: 226) 42. (Fridrichsen 1994: 163 n. 3) 43. For a good introduction to Stoic theology, see Algra (2003). Ps.-Aristotle, Mund. 399b is an apt parallel to Paul: God is similar to the soul which as ‘invisible is perceived through its deeds’ (     . Transl. Furley). The author of this text was influenced by Stoicism (Furley 1992: 336).

50

Paul and Epictetus on Law

of knowledge. Gentiles knew God but did not give thanks to him. Thus Paul’s wording potentially reflects Epictetus’ idea that gratitude is a prerequisite for the right understanding of God. At the same time it is clear that Paul tapped his Jewish tradition. The Scriptures are full of examples of the pious attitude towards God, and the verb , denoting ‘to honour’, is typical in Jewish usage.44 Paul’s synthesis of Jewish convictions and Greek natural theology is quite similar to that found in Wisdom of Solomon. James Dunn writes that the similarities between Rom. 1.19-32 and the Book of Wisdom 12–15 are ‘too close to be accidental’.45 If he is right, we can say that Paul inherited Stoic theology through Hellenistic Judaism.

3.2.2. Vices and God’s Decree Rom. 1.18 is like a motto at the beginning of passage 1.18-32. According to the motto, the wrath of God is revealed from heaven. This may mean all kinds of cosmic disasters or final judgement,46 since the present tense () can also denote a future event.47 There is, however, a deliberate paralleling with the present revelation of God’s righteousness (Rom 1.17). Thus it is plausible that Paul does not mean a future event but a present one.48 C. E. B. Cranfield admits that ‘it is very easy to get from reading vv. 18ff the impression’ that God’s wrath takes place through the vices of the gentiles but, quite surprisingly, he denies this interpretation. He understands the parallels to mean that both wrath and righteousness (v. 17) are revealed in the gospel.49 There is, however, no indication of any ‘gospel of wrath’. James Dunn adopts ‘the easy reading’ rejected by Cranfield,50 and rightly so. Paul says thrice that God gave up the gentiles because of their ungodliness. This giving up is nothing other than a wrathful act. Why would God give up the gentiles if not because of his wrath incurred by idolatry and vices? Giving up is God’s response to idolaters. God does not actively transfer gentiles to a condition which is full of vices, but just leaves them ()51 to 44. (Dunn 1988: 59; Hegermann 1990: 345) The usual meaning is ‘to hold an opinion’ (e.g., Disc. 2.11.11), although we also meet meanings for the verb in gentile usage which are closer to the typical Jewish usage (Moulton and Milligan 1949: ). 45. (Dunn 1988: 56–7) 46. (Dunn 1988: 54) 47. (Smyth 1984: 421–2, § 1879) 48. (Cranfield 1975: 106–10; Dunn 1988: 54) 49. (Cranfield 1975: 109–11) 50. (Dunn 1988: 54) 51. (Cranfield 1975: 120–1) Moo (1996: 111) claims that giving up () does not denote a passive leaving, but an active transfer to the vices. In principle, this is possible in Rom. 1.24 and 26, but not in Rom. 1.28 where gentiles have already acquired the state (God is not in their ) and God just leaves them to it (a debased ). The word 



3.   The Fundamentals of Law

51

the condition they have created for themselves. In a way, this wrathful giving up is God’s punishment. Thus there is no particular punishment beside the vices themselves. Paul says this openly when speaking of male homosexual practice (v. 27). Male homosexuals ‘received in their own persons the due penalty for their error’ (         ). The penalty ‘in their own persons’ ( ) does not mean ‘personally’ since the thought of a personal penalty is self-evident: who can suffer penalty impersonally? Nor is ‘in their own persons’ a pleonastic adornment since the expression creates a tautology (  ) which is not very adorning. In fact, the phrase expresses reciprocality since the reflexive pronoun can be read in the reciprocal sense. In this case the context promotes such a reading. The penalty ‘in their own persons’ ( ) seems to be the degrading of the bodies ‘among themselves’ ( 52) (v. 24). Homosexual practice is portrayed clearly as a reciprocal action,53 and the expression for the penalty also contains reciprocal elements.54 Thus, the immoral acts themselves contain the penalty. It is natural to generalize this thought and conclude that all the listed vices (vv. 29–30) contain their own penalty. Paul’s thought is, thus, similar to Epictetus’ thought. Epictetus says that a proper knowledge of God is necessary for the right moral attitude, which is the subordination of one’s will to God. A wrong theological view leads to vices that express the wrath of God. The idea that God is wrathful is unpalatable for most of the philosophers (Cicero, Off. 3.102), but not as a metaphor. We saw that Epictetus interprets the wrath of God in a figurative sense, in that God has ordered that vices contain their own punishments. For example, a counterfeit Stoic is punished by being vainglorious and a braggart, and he is suffering (Disc. 3.24.43; cf. Rom. 1.22). The underlying relationship between God’s wrath, vice and punishment is the same in Paul. God’s wrath is a metaphor for punishments that are included in the vice. Paul has put the philosophical view to use. When we look at the stages of gentile decline we find more common features with Epictetus’ Stoic philosophy. The decline in Romans 1 is primarily an intellectual one which is followed by wrong deeds.55 This mind-action sequence resembles Epictetus’ distinction between passions as intellectual states and wrong deeds. Paul applies a similar distinction in narrative form. Paul clearly denotes something similar to the word . As  is repeated thrice in parallel descriptions of decline (see below), it is probable that the word always has the same meaning. Thus  denotes a passive act (‘leaving’, ‘giving up’). 52. The majority reading is   which makes the parallel with v. 27 more distinctive. 53. Note    (middle with reciprocal nuance?),   . 54. ‘…in  “penalty, reward” … as also in  there is some emphasis on the reciprocal nature of the transaction ( )’ (Dunn 1988: 65). 55. Cf. Engberg-Pedersen (2000: 209).

52

Paul and Epictetus on Law

describes the decline three times (vv. 21-24; 25-27; 28-32). The first description (vv. 21-24) includes all four stages of the decline: intellectual degeneration (vv. 21-22), idolatrous deeds (v. 23) and God’s response (v. 24), which is followed by shameful deeds (v. 24). The second description includes only the last three stages: idolatrous deeds (v. 25), God’s response (v. 26) and shameful deeds (vv. 26-27). Lastly, the third description includes the first, the third and the fourth stages: intellectual degeneration (v. 28), God’s response (v. 28) and shameful deeds (vv. 28-32). Intellectual degeneration means loss of the proper knowledge of God (vv. 21-23; 28), which is identified with lusts and passions. The identification becomes clear when we compare the three parallel descriptions of the decline. In the first and the second descriptions God gives gentiles up to the lusts (v. 24) or passions (v. 26). In the third description he gives them up to a debased mind (v. 28). Since the three descriptions are parallel, lusts and passions are comparable to the debased mind. We can also note that the lusts appeared in hearts (v. 24) that were darkened (v. 21). The heart was the mental centre not only in Hebrew but also in Stoic anthropology.56 Quite similar is Epictetus’ Stoic idea that passions arise from an intellectual fallacy. Though Paul does not explicate the relationship between passions and intellectual degeneration, the parallel to the Stoic view becomes apparent when his teaching is compared to that of Plato. According to Plato, passions emerge in the lower part of the soul. Therefore, passions are part of the human constitution, and one cannot but control them (Resp. 434d–441c; Phaedr. 253c–256d). There is no hint of the irrational origin of passions and no ethics of control in Rom 1.18-32. Instead, Paul parallels lusts/passions and heart/debased mind in such a way that passions seem to be a certain state of intellectuality.57 This impression is closer to a Stoic than a Platonic view. Like in Epictetus, in Paul the lusts and passions are followed by deeds. The vicious acts of the gentiles have their origin in futile thinking and in a darkened and debased mind. Besides homosexual practice, Paul illustrates the vicious deeds in a long vice list (vv. 29-31). The list is given as a list of deeds, which is indicated by the verbs  and  (vv. 28, 32). The vice list is chaotic, which is possibly intentional: the chaotic list illustrates a chaotic morality. There are formal traits, a 4+5 structure in v. 29, which, however, do not indicate any systematization in thought.58 Though the list is given as a list of deeds it also contains some mental states like heartlessness. Paul does not follow an older, existing list, and there are only random similarities with other vice lists 56. (Bonhöffer 1890: 46; Pohlenz 1948: 87; Sandbach 1989: 83; cf. Disc. 1.27.21) Moreover, Chrysippus associated light with knowledge (Sandbach 1989: 78; cf. Disc. 1.4.31). 57. I will deal more profoundly with the distinction between Platonic and Stoic views in Chapter 6. 58. (Dunn 1988: 75)



3.   The Fundamentals of Law

53

in the New Testament.59 Paul has seemingly composed a list of his own by using material chiefly familiar from the Hebrew Bible.60 Are there any Stoic features in Paul’s vice list? Vice lists were usual in antiquity,61 so this is not a Stoic feature in particular. Moreover, unlike Epi­ ctetus Paul lists mainly vicious deeds, not intellectual states.62 There is also a striking difference in that Paul counts lack of pity (Rom. 1.31) as a vice, while pity is a vice in Epictetus (Disc. 3.24.43). Though Paul’s list of deeds is different from Epictetus’ lists of vicious intellectual states, it bears witness to a Stoic-coloured pattern of thought. Paul presents his list in a context where the distinction between intellectual vices and vicious deeds is decisive. Thus Paul’s list as such has a different profile from Epictetus’ lists, but it illustrates a general pattern which is similar to Epictetus’ Stoic view. The similarity between Paul and Epictetus is not limited to the general sequence of intellectual vices and vicious deeds. There is also similar vocabulary. I will later examine the Stoic background of the expressions ‘lust’ (), ‘passion’ ( ) and ‘desire’ ( ; ‘passion’ in nrsv) when I deal with Paul’s grounds for the condemnation of homosexual practice. At the present moment, I study in more detail the expression ‘things that should not be done’ (  ). It refers to deeds as the preceding verb () indicates. The word   also refers to deeds in Epictetus. Some scholars claim that the expression    does not indicate Stoic influence.63 They have two reasons for this claim, the first of which is that   in ethical meaning is not a distinctively Stoic expression because it existed already before the Stoics and also in the Septuagint (e.g., Exod. 5.13; 36.1; 2 Macc. 6.4; 3 Macc. 4.16). Second, they claim that Stoics expressed the negation of duty with the formula   , not    These facts are enough for them to deny the relationship between Paul’s usage and the Stoic usage. The fact that we do not meet   only in Stoic usage, however, does not rule out the possibility of a Stoic connotation in Paul’s expression. We cannot reconstruct vernacular or Jewish Greek which is completely isolated from the Greek of the Stoics – different usages are naturally interconnected. For example, the texts in the Septuagint were composed under philosophical influence.64 Bonhöffer, who denies the Stoic connotation of Paul’s expression, 59. (Vögtle 1936: 13–14; Wibbing 1959: 87–8) 60. (Vögtle 1936: 229–32) 61. E.g., Mk 7.21–2; Barn. 20.1–2; Wis. 14.23–6; 1QS col. IV. Moreover, vice lists occur in works of philosophers, like Epictetus, and in works of astrologers (Vögtle 1936: 87). 62. Also Schmithals (1988: 81) notes that the Stoics list intellectual vices. 63. (Bonhöffer 1911: 157–8; Pohlenz 1949b: 73; Enslin 1957: 93–5) 64. See Chapter 1 of this book. Stoics wrote linguistic studies, not to speak of other Stoic literature, which were surely available to the Alexandrian translators of the Septuagint. On Stoic linguistics, see, e.g., Luhtala (2000).

54

Paul and Epictetus on Law

admits that Stoic usage strengthened the ethical meaning of the expression in koinē.65 Thus, it is wholly reasonable to think that Paul’s expression bears a Stoic ‘tone’ even if Paul has not embraced it from a philosophical text. We should also keep in mind that Stoics did not rigidly use technical expressions all the time. Epictetus is an excellent example. He combined the technical expressions of Stoicism with lively vernacular Greek. This freedom is also present in the use of  . Untechnical negation was possible for professional philosophers like Musonius Rufus, Epictetus and Philo. Do not expect to enjoin right-doing ( ) upon men who are conscious of your own wrong-doing (    ) (Musonius Rufus, Fragm. 32; transl. by Lutz).66 What man among you can do these things without first conceiving an impression of what is profitable, or what is not fitting (      )? (Epictetus, Disc. 3.22.43) Things contrary to duty in themselves may be done in the spirit of duty (      ) (Philo, Cher. 14 [= SVF 3.513 Chrysippus]; transl. by Colson and Whitaker LCL).

Most striking is Musonius’ negation of duty, as it is identical to Paul’s negation. Anton Vögtle claims that   in Musonius’ use should not be understood in the Stoic sense because the negation is improper in the Stoic usage.67 It is true that the expression is formally unusual, but it was uttered by a Stoic philosopher and the thought fits perfectly with Stoic ethics. I see no reason not to understand   in the Stoic sense. In Philo’s case Vögtle explains that    means indifferent deeds, not the contrary of duty.68 This explanation cannot apply since Philo speaks of contraries, which becomes clear in the full context. Margarethe Billerbeck explains Epictetus’   as a textual corruption, because of the unusual negation of duty. Moreover, she adds that there is no need for a negation as there is no negation of ‘profitable’. She assumes that  is added to the manuscript as a dittography of 69 There is, however, no obvious need for this emendation. The unexpected features do not prove the wholly understandable text corrupt. These three textual excerpts prove that professional philosophers used expressions which are improper in strictly philosophical usage.70 Epictetus’ 65. (Bonhöffer 1911: 157) 66. (Fragm. 32 = Lutz 1947: 133) 67. (Vögtle 1936: 217 n. 79) 68. (Vögtle 1936: 217 n. 79) 69. (Billerbeck 1978: 105) She holds it as improbable that the expression is incomplete in the following manner:       [ ] . 70. Bonhöffer (1911: 157–8) denies the possibility of improper negation in the Stoic usage. It is worth noting that in the strict sense Stoics differentiated   and   The



3.   The Fundamentals of Law

55

text is the most striking as it occurs in a context that is full of technical terms from Stoic philosophy. A fortiori, the improper negation does not rule out the Stoic connotation in Paul, who was not a professional philosopher. In fact,   had generally a Stoic ‘tone’ in Hellenistic Greek, which confirms the overall Stoic impression we got when analysing the narrative of decline. At the end of Romans 1, there is a reference to law. Before the vice list, Paul says that the gentiles ‘did not see fit to acknowledge (  ) God’ (v. 28). Thus, they knew God, but did so no longer. They also knew () God’s decree (   ) (v. 32) in the past, but not any more. Paul does not tell about the source of their knowledge,71 but the textual context makes it obvious. When the gentiles knew God by seeing his properties through the world (vv. 19-20), their moral conduct was sound. There is a clear connection between natural theology and morality. Thus, we are dealing with natural knowledge of God’s decree. Gentiles understood God’s decree through the world, in the same way as they understood God’s existence. In this way the decree comes close to the Epictetan law of nature about which Paul speaks more openly in Romans 2. The Stoic-coloured context makes the Stoic understanding of the decree inevitable. What is explicit in the decree is the punishment for the vices: death. Paul does not mean that death is only the result of the previous vices. The vice list contains only examples of the vices to be punished with death. Those who practise such kinds of things () deserve death. Death is the punishment for a huge variety of vices – or is it? Cranfield points out rightly that ‘many of the things listed in vv. 29-31 could not conceivably carry a death penalty in any code’.72 Thus, Paul does not speak of a concrete law which gentiles have forgotten. Some scholars have sought a more spiritual understanding of death and have heard here overtones of the Torah: ‘In the day that you eat of it you shall die’ (Gen. 2.17).73 In this interpretation ‘decree’ is the Torah or God’s saying in the story of the Fall. Here, however, Paul is not speaking of death caused by Adam’s fall (Rom. 5.12). He is speaking of a collective decline which did not begin by eating from a forbidden tree, but by losing the proper knowledge of God. Paul speaks of the death caused by vices committed after the Fall. Thus, a spiritual interpretation of death is not the right one. God’s decree is neither a concrete but forgotten code nor the Torah or a saying in it. The Stoic-coloured context suggests that vices involve God’s punishments. Should we think that vices somehow involve death? It is clear that

former is a right deed while the latter is a right deed done because of the right conviction (more in depth, see Rist 1969: 97–111; Forschner 1995: 196–211). Yet Epictetus was again inexact. He often used   in the sense of   (Bonhöffer 1894: 198–200). 71. (Morris 1988: 99; Ziesler 1989: 79) 72. (Cranfield 1975: 134) 73. (Dunn 1988: 69, 76)

56

Paul and Epictetus on Law

conduct ‘full of murder’ (v. 29) involves death, but it is difficult to believe that every vice in the list would lead to death. We meet similar difficulty in Galatians where Paul describes behaviour which is contrary to the love command of the law: in-fighting among Galatian Christians would lead to their entire destruction (Gal. 5.15). It is obvious that Paul exaggerates in Galatians. The in-fighting is in some sense similar to life and death fighting among animals, but Paul is not suggesting that Galatians were really killing each other. This holds true despite the fact that Paul’s expression grammatically denotes a real case ( + present tense).74 As the death penalty and spiritual death are ideas that cannot be rightly inferred to be part of Rom. 1.32, the only interpretative option is that of rhetorical exaggeration.75 The exaggeration in Rom. 1.32 is understandable since some vices reasonably can lead to death. This fact is brought to an extreme by claiming that all vices result in death. We also meet death as an exaggeration in Epictetus, who underlines the severity () of the punishments for those who are disobedient to the divine governance. He compares the punishments for counterfeit Stoicism to the punishment for a false claim of Roman citizenship (Disc. 3.24.41). This claim carried the death penalty at the worst. In fact, the divine law punishes pretenders by making them braggarts and vainglorious. Epictetus exaggerates in the same way that Paul does. We have mainly analysed something other than ‘God’s decree’ in Romans 1. It was, however, necessary because all expressions are a part of their textual context. Rom. 1.18-32 is deeply coloured by Stoicism, and this fact makes it natural to interpret ‘God’s decree’ along Stoic lines.

3.2.3. The Torah as the Law of Nature In Rom. 2.9-12, Paul affirms that the Jews and the gentiles will be judged impartially, although the grounds of the judgement are different since the Jews have God’s law, while gentiles do not. Paul, however, then changes his mind and says in 2.14-16 that even the gentiles know the law. They fulfil the demands of the law by nature (    ), they are a law unto themselves, and the work of the law (   ) is written in their hearts. I suggest that Paul’s words reflect the Stoic understanding of natural law instead of the Platonic one. In this subsection, I will show that Paul’s thoughts are close to those of Epictetus. In the next subsection, 3.2.4, I will show more similarities between Paul and Epictetus, but also the difference between Paul’s position and the Platonic one. Paul says that the gentiles know the Torah without reading or hearing a word of the Scriptures. Did he really mean that the gentiles even know the so-called ritual commandments, like circumcision? Probably not. The accusing 74. (Betz 1979: 267–8; Longenecker 1990: 244) 75. (Cf. Kuss 1963: 55)



3.   The Fundamentals of Law

57

and excusing thoughts of the gentiles (Rom. 2.15) refer to the so-called ethical commandments, although Paul makes no explicit reduction of the Torah. It is possible that the dative  is closely tied with the previous words.76 Thus it would denote gentile extraction or uncircumcision as a physical phenomenon. This is clearly the case somewhat later. In Rom. 2.27, Paul says that a gentile ‘by nature’ ( ) can do what the Torah requires. In Rom. 2.14, however, it is meaningless to emphasize the extraction or physical signs of gentiles. This kind of emphasis would be understandable if Paul also had in mind Jews who have become gentiles, but there is no implication of this until Rom. 2.25. In Rom. 2.25-29 Paul draws a difference between circumcision as a physical and as a spiritual issue, and therefore it is meaningful to speak of those who are uncircumcised ‘by nature’ ( ). There is no such difference between two kinds of circumcision in the immediate textual context of Rom. 2.14. The dative  occurs thrice in Paul. In the two other cases  precedes the word it defines (Gal. 2.15; 4.8). This points in the direction that  precedes the words it also defines in Rom. 2.14.77 Similarly, in Rom. 2.27,   precedes the word it defines. It is reliable that the dative  is used to define subsequent words and in this case implies how gentiles can do what the Torah requires: they do it by nature. In Paul, nature refers to the essential character of a person or a thing,78 like a person’s national extraction (Rom. 2.27; 11.21, 24; Gal. 2.15; 4.8). Nature as essential character may also be the guide to a proper life (Rom. 1.26-27; 1 Cor. 11.14-15).79 Similarly, in Rom. 2.14  refers to the essential character of the gentiles. That character gives guidelines for their lives: the gentiles are a law unto themselves. The nature of the gentiles contains the law, and thus nature is the basis for fulfilling the law.80 Law based on nature is known, for example, from Plato (Leg. 890d). Aristotle claimed that a person can be a law to himself or herself (Eth. Nic. 1128a; Pol. 1284a).81 Yet the idea of moral law as being 76. (Cranfield 1975: 156) 77. Cf. Bornkamm (1959: 103) and Dunn (1988: 98). Gathercole (2002: 36–7) claims that there is no parallel for the thought of fulfilling law by nature. There is, however, a rough parallel in Gal. 4.1–11: gentiles have been slaves to the elements of the world which is identified with slavery to the law. Thus gentiles have obeyed the elements viz. the law (cf. Sanders 1983: 69; Räisänen 1987: 20–1). 78. (Burton 1948: 228; cf. Koester 1974: 271–2) 79. In 1 Cor. 11.14 Paul surprisingly personifies nature, but he seems to be thinking of the order of creation (Pohlenz 1949b: 77; Wendland 1954: 82; Koester 1974: 272–3). It is not clear why men have short hair by nature. Epictetus seems to think just the contrary (Disc. 4.8.5; Bonhöffer 1911: 147). 80. (Pohlenz 1949b: 77; Kuss 1963: 69; Michel 1978: 117) 81. Bornkamm (1959: 104 n. 22, 105 n. 24) has collected more parallels to Aristotle’s thought.

58

Paul and Epictetus on Law

based on nature was typical for the Stoics.82 A close reading will show that Paul has many common ideas with the Stoics. Meeting the demands of the law by nature contains a nuance of automatic doing.83 Gentiles do () the things required by the law since the work of the law (   ) is written in their hearts. At the same time, nature is compared to the Scriptures: the work of law is written in their hearts (cf. Isa. 51.7; Jer. 31 [lxx 38].33). Nature poses ethical requirements, identical to those of the Scriptures, which demand conscious thought (v. 15) and fulfilment. Thus, every precept of the law written in people’s hearts is not fulfilled automatically. Paul’s thought has a tension between automatic and deliberate fulfilling of the law. It is possible that the tension mirrors Stoic theory. According to Epictetus, one fulfils some precepts of nature unconsciously. Epictetus also says that even Epicurus could not fully resist his natural inclinations. This automatic fulfilling of the precepts of nature is, however, limited. A fully moral life requires conscious moral consideration. Paul does not ascribe a fully moral life to the gentiles. The expression    does not limit the number of precepts fulfilled.84 This indicates that gentiles fulfil at least some precepts of the law by nature. This fits well with Epictetus’ claim of unconscious moral practice by nature. The conscious side of pagan morality (Rom. 2.15) also has similarities with Stoicism. Paul describes this side with the word ‘conscience’ ( ). He understands it as a capacity to acknowledge the real state of things (2 Cor. 1.12; 4.2; 5.11; Rom. 9.1). Judgements of conscience are dependent on the person (1 Cor. 8.7; 10.28), and they are not necessarily identical to God’s judgements (1 Cor. 4.4). In general, conscience in Paul is the critical mind.85 Conscience means the capacity to reflect on things, and in Rom. 2.15 it especially means to reflect from the moral point of view. Moral reflection takes the shape of conflicting thoughts which accuse and excuse.86 Pauline conscience ( ) has its relatives in Epictetus (   ). Epictetus even combines ‘conscience’ ( ) with the expression ‘the work of virtue’ (   ), roughly similar to Paul’s ‘work of the law’ (   ). The work of virtue is the ideal which should be fulfilled in the same way as the work of the law, which is compared to the requirements of the Torah. 82. (Bonhöffer 1911: 149; Martens 1994: 57 n. 8) Thesleff (1990: 103) comments on the above-mentioned passage from Plato (Leg. 890d), writing that ‘As such, this passage has almost a Stoic ring’. 83. (Käsemann 1973: 58) 84. (Räisänen 1987: 103) A bit later, Paul speaks of a gentile who really fulfils the whole law (Räisänen 1987: 103). 85. (Bultmann 1958: 217; Käsemann 1973: 60) Cf. Wilckens (1978: 138): ‘eine Stimme, die von seinem eigenen Wollen und Urteilen unterschieden ist’. 86. For a detailed discussion on conscience in Rom 2.15, see Eckstein (1983: 175–9).



3.   The Fundamentals of Law

59

Conscience is not the highest ‘court’ in Paul since the day of divine judgement will reveal the ultimate moral truth (Rom. 2.16). There is no belief in divine judgement either in Epictetus’ or in any Stoic philosopher’s works, although Seneca expressed a belief in the imminent end of the world (Nat. 3.30.5). The idea of a last judgement has more in common with Plato’s myths of judgement, which, however, should not be understood literally (Phaed. 114d). It is clear that the idea of the day of divine judgement comes from Jewish apo­ calypticism. Paul’s Stoic interpretation of the Torah is combined with Jewish apocalypticism. At this point, we have seen that Paul’s thoughts on nature have close links to the Stoic views represented by Epictetus. Yet we have additionally noted that natural law was also a Platonic concept. What makes it necessary to think that Paul’s idea of nature reflects Stoic views instead of Platonic ones?

3.2.4. Nature and Homosexual Practice In Rom. 2.14 Paul says that the gentiles do by nature what the law requires. In Rom. 1.26-27, however, Paul describes gentiles whose homosexual practice is contrary to nature. The practice is a result of decline.87 The gentiles became futile in their thinking and began to practise idolatry. ‘Therefore God gave them up in the lusts of their hearts to impurity, to the degrading of their bodies among themselves’ (Rom. 1.24). This is explained in Rom. 1.26-27, which specifies that gentiles have fallen to female and male homosexual practice, which is contrary to nature ( ).88 Paul does not explain the criteria for naturalness. Possibly Paul saw homosexual practice as opposed to proper gender roles.89 Yet it does not mean that nature is the same as gender roles. In Rom. 2.14 the criteria for naturalness are anchored in human nature, since gentiles are a law unto themselves. In Rom. 1.26-27 this law is the physical construction of male and female. The words denoting the sexes (   ) emphasize the particular characters of the sexes, including the physical ones.90 Paul probably understood homosexual practice as something which is contrary to human bodily construction, as he says that the gentiles degrade their bodies (v. 24).91 Similarities with Epictetus are striking. He says that homosexual practice is contrary to proper gender roles as the passive man loses his manhood, but proper sexual practice is not, however, based on gender roles but on the physi 87. See subsection 3.2.2. 88. The general reference to unnatural intercourse in v. 26 may refer to any sexual vice committed by women. The thought that it refers to homosexual practice is plausible because of the analogy with v. 27 (Brooten 1996: 246–50, 253–4). 89. (Nissinen 1998: 107–8) 90. (Kuss 1963: 50; Cranfield 1975: 125; Dunn 1988: 64) 91. This is also the interpretation of copyist D*: the females ‘exchanged natural creation () for unnatural intercourse ()’ (v. 26).

60

Paul and Epictetus on Law

cal characteristics of men and women. When speaking of proper sexuality Epictetus emphasizes the particular characteristics of the sexes with his words   and   (Disc. 1.6.9). Epictetus says that one has to act as those who understand the constitution of nature (   ) (Disc. 2.10.4), and somewhat later he condemns homosexual practice. We have no reason to doubt that the natural constitution also encompasses the power to use ‘the organs which have been constructed’ (      ) (Disc. 1.6.9). We are not far from Paul’s idea of natural sex (  ) (Rom. 1.26-7). Of course, these similarities between Paul and Epictetus are not enough to say that Paul’s thought is Stoic. It was not only Stoics who understood homosexual practice as opposed to nature. Plato already held the same view (Leg. 636c, 836c–841d), and there were also other critical voices in the Greco-Roman world.92 However, the philosophical background to Paul’s statements is not Platonic but Stoic, for he describes the homosexual desires in a way that unmistakably recalls the Stoic philosophy of emotions. First of all, we have to say that there is no distinct category for homosexual desires in Paul. His words for desire (     ) are general ones and only the context specifies the sexual connotation. These words recall the Stoic vocabulary.93 From a formal Stoic perspective the expression   is pleonastic, for  as such already denotes a morally questionable emotion. This fact, however, does not make the Stoic reading impossible, though Bonhöffer thinks so.94 In one instance Epictetus speaks about   in a positive sense (Disc. 2.9.20), but surely as a Stoic thinker. This freedom is possible for a professional philosopher, and, a fortiori, for Paul. Moreover, the abundance of expression is common in diatribe style, like in Epictetus.95 Pleonasm is no reason to rule out a Stoic reading. The decisive point is not philological but philosophical. Paul’s view of homosexual desire is reminiscent of the Stoic one. As I have argued above, the decline of the gentiles is a deliberate one in Romans 1. God is always visible through his creation, but gentiles have ceased to give honour and thanks to him. This theological lapse was followed by an intellectual lapse and, for instance, by homosexual desires. Thus homosexual desires are not created by God, and in this sense they are unnatural. We should also note that homosexual desires and practices are paralleled with the theological lapse. In both cases, gentiles have changed the right object to a wrong one: instead of God they have honoured idols; instead of heterosexual practice they have adopted homosexual practice. 92. (Nissinen 1998: 79–88) 93. (Brooten 1996: 254–5; Nissinen 1998: 104) 94. (Bonhöffer 1911: 124) 95. (Bultmann 1984: 18; Schmeller 1987: 182–3) Martin (1995b: 347) is right when noting that the expression ‘dishonourable passion’ does not include the possibility of honourable passion.



3.   The Fundamentals of Law

61

Stoics like Epictetus expressed positive as well as negative desires with the word  . The negative tone of this word in Paul is within Stoic usage. The word   denotes voluntary desires that are contrary to nature, while   is a general term for all unnatural and voluntary emotions, including  . These vicious emotions do not belong to the human constitution as does a natural desire ( ), including heterosexual desire. This is parallel to the Pauline  and , which are not a part of God’s creation but a consequence of decline. In Stoicism, the characteristic trait of wrong desire is the wrong object. This Stoic conviction is clear in the case of  : it is ‘an irrational stretching [desire] (), or pursuit of an expected () good’ (SVF 3.391; transl. by Long and Sedley 65B). Those who have an  are desiring something which is thought to be good, but which is not really good. The irrationality lies in the fact that the object of the desire is wrong. According to Paul, gentiles who practised homosexuality exchanged the right sexual object for the wrong one. Plato held a different view. The human being is equipped with a passionate part of the soul. Any desire is natural although one has to restrain from excess (Resp. 434d–441c; Phaedr. 253c–256d). From the Platonic point of view, sex without ‘lustful passion’ ( ) (1 Thess. 4.4) – a possible reading of this complex verse – would be impossible. However, it makes perfect sense in the context of the Stoic differentiation between wrong ( ) and correct desire ( ). For a Platonist this differentiation is nothing but a ridiculous sophism (SVF 3.439) because there is only one desire. Plato’s philosophy of emotions led him to understand homosexual and heterosexual desire as basically the same thing. The origin of homosexual practice is not found in wrong desire but in the incapacity to restrain the desire for pleasure (’  ) (Leg. 636c). Even Epictetus’ Stoic teacher, Musonius Rufus, understood homosexual practice as a manifestation of sexual excess. Along Platonic lines he condemned all sex if one is ‘seeking mere pleasure’ (  ) – even in marriage (Musonius Rufus 12). The word ‘mere’ indicates that pleasure can be tolerated to some extent. This toleration is absolutely impossible within traditional Stoic philosophy, where pleasure is nothing but a vice. In comparison to Musonius’ view it is striking that Paul’s text does not accuse gentiles of excessive sex but of a change in sexual object. Gentiles are not searching for more and more sexual pleasure, but rather left aside () one sexual practice (i.e., the natural one) while searching for another one. Gentiles clearly have exchanged the right sexual object for the wrong one. This is not a Platonic but a Stoic view.96 Paul’s words presume the Stoic teaching on emotions. 96. Martin (1995b) appositely describes the Platonic stance, but problems arise when he interprets Paul along these lines. He rejects the idea of disoriented desire as a creation of modern

62

Paul and Epictetus on Law

Paul’s statements on homosexual practice illustrate the significance of Stoic natural law for Paul’s views. When he says that gentiles fulfil the demands of the law by nature (Rom. 2.14), it is not a random fling. He has some knowledge of natural law and its application in specific cases. Paul’s statements on homosexual practice illustrate the way he thought gentiles were a law unto themselves. The gentiles have their human nature as their law, and in this sense they found the law in themselves. Paul’s condemnation of homosexual practice also shows what he means by paralleling natural law and the Torah (Rom. 2.14-15). The Torah condemns male homosexual practice twice (Lev. 18.22; 20.13) and Hellenistic Judaism often supported this condemnation with Stoic arguments.97 The apostle is surely heir to this Jewish tradition. The Torah, however, is conspicuously absent in Paul’s discussion. This is clearly a deliberate decision on Paul’s part. Gentiles cannot be claimed to reject the Torah since they have never had the Torah (Rom. 2.12), but they have had the natural law (Rom. 2.14). The close reading of Paul’s condemnation of homosexual practice shows that Paul had in mind the Stoic version of natural law.

heterosexism while not mentioning the Stoic position. On the other hand, Engberg-Pedersen (2000: 210), who analyses Romans 1 from the Stoic point of view, acknowledges a desire that is ‘directed’ wrongly. 97. (Nissinen 1998: 89–97)

Chapter 4 The Strong and the Weak 4.1. Epictetus’ Law on the Weaker and the Stronger In Romans 13–15 love is the ethical norm that should be followed in Christian relationships. According to Paul, love crystallizes the Torah and love should hold sway between ‘the weak’ and ‘the strong’. Next, I will study Epictetus’ views on weakness, strength, and their connection to love in order to continue later with an analysis of Paul’s text.

4.1.1. Invincibility of Strong Judgements In Disc. 1.29.1–4 Epictetus presents his theory of value, in which good and bad are judgements ( ) about external things that are themselves indifferent.1 He concludes that one should not be afraid of the violent acts of a tyrant as the acts concern only external things such as the body, property, reputation, and so on (sections 5–10). Still, the tyrant – Epictetus obviously constructs this imaginary role – also claims control over the judgements ( ) (section 11). Epictetus questions this requirement. (11)             (12)            ’            (13)                  (14)                                     (15)                       ’         (11) And who has given you this authority? How can you have the power to overcome another’s judgement? (12) ‘By bringing fear to bear upon him’, he says, ‘I shall overcome him’. You fail to realize that the judgement overcame itself, it was not overcome by something else; and nothing else can overcome moral purpose, but it overcomes itself. (13) For this reason too the law of God is most powerful and most

1. See subsection 2.1.1.

64

Paul and Epictetus on Law just: ‘Let the stronger always prevail over the weaker’.2 (14) ‘Ten are stronger than one’, you say. For what? For putting in chains, for killing, for dragging away a man’s property. Ten overcome one, therefore, in the point in which they are stronger. (15) In what, then, are they weaker? If one has correct judgements, and the ten have not. What then? Can they overcome in this point? How can they? But if we are weighed in the balance, must not the heavier draw down the scales? (Disc. 1.29.11–15; transl. revised)

In section 12, judgement and moral purpose are identical.3 A tyrant cannot bring about fear as fear is a judgement not dependent on any other person or thing. The external thing, say imprisonment ordered by the tyrant, is not threatening as such. Those who are afraid of imprisonment have a judgement that imprisonment is threatening. What brings fear is not the tyrant but the judgement.4 Thereafter Epictetus introduces the law of God. It is not an ethical requirement but an unavoidable course of life.5 The law as expressed seems to be a quotation as it contains the rare verb  instead of  used in the context (sections 12, 14–15).6 The counterargument ‘ten are stronger than one’ is in hexameter and thus probably also a quotation. The counterargument is physically true, Epictetus admits. As to judgements, however, the deciding factor is not the number of judgements but their quality.7 Correctness is identified with strength and incorrectness with weakness. Thus, Epictetus concludes, correct judgements are stronger than incorrect ones. Thereafter follows a discussion on Socrates who, as the interlocutor says, suffered at the hands of the Athenians (section 16).8 Epictetus answers that Socrates was not distressed by external things, like the body. To prove his point, Epictetus quotes two of Socrates’ sayings: ‘Anytus and Meletus can kill me, but they cannot hurt me’ and ‘if so it is pleasing to God, so let it be’ (section 18).9 2. I prefer the translations ‘stronger’ and ‘weaker’ (Oldfather uses ‘better’ and ‘worse’) as there is a question of physical strength. See also  in passage 16. 3. The chiastic structure parallels judgement and moral purpose: ‘…(a) the judgement overcame itself, (b) it was not overcome by something else; (b') and nothing else can overcome moral purpose, (a') but it overcomes itself’. The identification of judgements and moral purpose occurs also in some other passages (Reale 1990: 82; Dobbin 1991: 130). 4. (Bonhöffer 1890: 278–9) 5. Räisänen (1992: 83) has the same interpretation, but refers to section 19, where the same phrase is used (see below). 6. The verb  in the meaning ‘prevail’ occurs only twice in Epictetus, here and in the verbally identical statement of law in passage 19. 7. (Dobbin 1998: 229) 8. The text is somewhat obscure. I have followed von Radt (1990: 371). Oldfather, following the edition by Schenkl, makes an interpretation which does not fit with the context without difficulties, as evidenced by the need for an explanatory note (Oldfather 1995: 191 n. 1). 9. Both sayings occur in Epictetus several times. The former (Disc. 1.29.18; 2.2.15; 3.23.21; Ench. 53.4) is a variant of Apol. 30c–d; the latter (Disc. 1.4.24; 1.29.18; 3.22.95; 4.4.21; Ench. 53.3) of Crito 43d.



4.   The Strong and the Weak

65

Epictetus demonstrates with these sayings that Socrates voluntarily followed the will of God and the sentence of death did not disturb him. The Athenians could not distress Socrates because he had stronger judgements. Then Epictetus comes back to the law of God: But do you prove that one who holds weaker judgements is stronger than the man who is stronger in point of judgements (    )? You will not be able to prove this; no, nor even come near proving it. For this is a law of nature and God: ‘Let the stronger always prevail over the weaker’ (             ) (Disc. 1.29.19; transl. revised).

Epictetus fully accepts the dominion of the strong over the weak. This is not to recommend maltreatment of the weak. The law of the strong is applied in order to protect one’s mental serenity amidst maltreatment. Strong judgements cannot be controlled by any tyrant. Like Socrates, one can preserve a sense of freedom and autonomy in every circumstance. How, then, should one be disposed towards those who have weaker judgements? The question is treated somewhat later, though Epictetus no longer uses the terms ‘stronger’ and ‘weaker’. The context suggests that the weaker are uneducated and the stronger are educated. Should the stronger tell the philosophical truths to the weaker so that the weaker would have stronger judgements? (30) Must I say these things to the multitude? (31) For what purpose? Is it not sufficient for a man himself to believe them? For example, when the children come up to us and clap their hands and say, ‘Today is the good Saturnalia’, do we say them, ‘All this is not good’? Not at all; but we too clap our hands to them.10 (32) And do you too, therefore, when you are unable to make a man change his opinion, realize that he is a child and clap your hands to him; but if he does not want to do this,11 then keep quiet (Disc. 1.29.30–32; transl. revised).

One can educate those who are able to change their opinion. Those who cannot change must be encountered politely. Their customs should not be condemned because of convictions incomprehensible to them. One should ‘play their game’ – surely, as long as it is morally possible. An example of a polite relationship with weaker persons is included in the Encheiridion. One can sympathize with those who have sorrow while quietly acknowledging their weak judgements. When you see someone weeping in sorrow, either because a child has gone on a journey, or because he has lost his property, beware that you be not carried away by the impression that the man is in the midst of external ills, but straightway keep 10. Saturnalia was a Roman feast which included customs similar to Christmas (Distelrath 2001: 114). ‘The clapping of hands upon this occasion was a kind of salutation’ (Oldfather 1995: 195 n. 1). 11. Namely to clap and greet. It is unnecessary to reject the reading of manuscript S (). Usually the editors read  (Dobbin 1998: 230).

Paul and Epictetus on Law

66

before you this thought: ‘It is not what has happened that distresses this man (for it does not distress another), but his judgement about it’. Do not, however, hesitate to sympathize with him so far as words go, and, if occasion offers, even to groan with him; but be careful not to groan also in the center of your being (Ench. 16; transl. revised).

4.1.2. The Better Man Has More Riches Than the Inferior One In Disc. 3.17 Epictetus highlights how the law on strength and weakness is a protection against the experience of social injustice. He claims that the socially weaker can maintain their happiness in every circumstance if they have the right moral disposition. Nevertheless, he does not claim that it is indifferent how the socially stronger are disposed towards the weaker. This leads one to ask about the relationship of self-concern and other-concern in Epictetus’ philosophy. Disc. 3.17 begins with Epictetus’ claim that everything happens in accordance with reason ( ), which means that everything is disposed providentially. Is it, then, right that wicked persons are better off? Epictetus expounds that they are better off in respect to money, but, because they have lived an immoral life, they are morally poor. A philosopher is better off as regards morals (sections 1–3). Then follows a section (sections 4–6a) that brings a new accent. In sections 1–3 Epictetus compares the superiority of persons with respect to different things, while in sections 4–6a he compares the superiority of things. ‘Is it not better to be considerate than to be rich?’ (section 5). Epictetus gives his answer in the positive: considerateness is better than richness. He continues by asking, ‘Why, then, are you indignant, man, when you have the better part?’ The conclusion is summed up in section 6: (6)                      ’  (6) Always remember and keep at hand that this is a law of nature: ‘stronger is better off than the weaker, in the respect in which he is stronger’. Then you will no longer become indignant (Disc. 3.17.6; transl. revised).

The law of nature is not an ethical requirement but an unavoidable course of life (cf. Disc. 1.29).12 Everything happens in accordance with natural law, and one cannot change it. What can be changed is the attitude towards the factual course of life. First, one has always to be conscious of the necessary course of life. Epictetus uses the technical terms ‘remember’ and ‘keep at hand’ in his discourses.13 Second, one can avoid becoming indignant by realizing that everything happens in accordance with the law of nature. 12. (Räisänen 1992: 83) 13. (Hijmans 1959: 69–70)

4.   The Strong and the Weak



67

Epictetus’ philosophy of value becomes visible in sections 4–6a and at the end of the discourse (sections 7–9) in his assertion that the value of riches is nothing compared to one’s inner disposition. ‘For this reason we ought not to cast out poverty, but only our judgement about poverty, and so we shall be serene’ (section 9). It is obvious that Epictetus regards the law of nature as protection against the experience of injustice. Still, the law does not justify the unscrupulous exploitation of weaker persons. How, then, should one be disposed towards persons who are weaker in the sense of social status, power and riches? The wrong and the right dispositions are described in Disc. 1.13. (1) Now when someone asked him how it is possible to eat acceptably to the gods, he said, If it is done justly and graciously and fairly and restrainedly and decently, is it not also done acceptably to the gods? (2) And when you have asked for warm water and the slave does not heed you; or if he does heed you but brings in tepid water; or if he is not even to be found in the house, then to refrain from anger and not to explode, is not this acceptable to the gods? (3) – How then can a man bear with such persons? – Slave, will you not bear with your own brother, who has Zeus as his progenitor and is, as it were, a son born of the same seed as yourself and of the same sowing above; (4) but if you have been stationed in a like position above others, will you forthwith set yourself up as a tyrant? Do you not remember what you are, and over whom you rule – that they are kinsmen, that they are brothers by nature, that they are the offspring of Zeus. (5) – But I have a deed of sale for them, and they have none for me. – Do you see whither you bend your gaze, that it is to the earth, that it is to the ruin, that it is to these wretched laws of the dead, and that it is not to the laws of the gods that you look? (Disc. 1.13; transl. revised)

The master should acknowledge his kinship with the slave. They are of equal origin; both are children of Zeus. The difference in social position is only a superficial one, while their shared origin is the decisive factor. There is a fundamental similarity between the master and the slave. Similarity necessitates similar treatment of the master and the slave. Thus, the master cannot treat the slave like a furious tyrant does but like he expects to be treated by others. This ethical principle was well known among the Stoics (e.g., Seneca, Ep. 47).14 We should, however, note that the fundamental aim of Epictetus’ teaching is not about social interactions with slaves.15 He is concerned with the master and his peace of mind. The focus on brotherhood helps to maintain mental balance, to avoid anger and rage. Thus, Epictetus recommends humane conduct in order to maintain happiness.16 This, however, does not mean that Epictetus depreciates social ethics. Self-concern and other-concern are two sides of the same coin.17 There is no self-concern without other-concern, which becomes clear in Disc. 1.19.

14. 15. 16. 17.

(Wattles 1996: 39–40; Guttenberger Ortwein 1999: 70–1; Thorsteinsson 2006: 153) (Schmitz 1923: 24) (Bultmann 1912: 187; Stephens 1996: 194) (Annas 1993: 274–5 nn. 85 and 88; Long 2002: 196–201)

68

Paul and Epictetus on Law

(11) This is not mere self-love (); such is the nature of the animal man; everything that he does is for himself. Why, even the sun does everything for its own sake, and, for that matter, so does Zeus himself. (12) But when Zeus wishes to be ‘Rain-bringer’, and ‘Fruit-giver’, and ‘Father of men and gods’, you can see for yourself that he cannot achieve these works, or win these appellations, unless he proves himself useful to the common interest; (13) and in general he has so constituted the nature of rational animal man, that he can attain nothing of his own proper goods unless he contributes something to the common interest. (14) Hence it follows that it can no longer be regarded as unsocial () for a man to do everything for his own sake (Disc. 1.19.11–14).

Epictetus denies that his social ethics is mere self-love: love of others is also a suitable concept in his social ethics.18 What is important to see is the argumentation which presents the individual benefit as the starting point. Long states that ‘Epictetus places duty to oneself as the top priority’.19 Robert F. Dobbin, who discusses Disc. 1.19.11ff. at length, notes aptly that ‘other-concern grows out of self-concern’ and self-concern always remains behind social acts.20 The stronger gains profit in treating the weaker humanely.

4.2. Paul: Love between the Weak and the Strong 4.2.1. Love as the Core of Law In Romans 14–15, Paul deals with conflicts between ‘weak’ and ‘strong’ Christians. The weak ( ) think that one cannot have meat (14.2, 21) or wine (14.21), and they think it necessary to ‘observe days’. The strong ( ) (Rom. 15.1) despise the weak and have more liberal views on food and days (14.3). Rom. 15.7-12 implies that the conflict is between Jewish and gentile Christians. It seems that Jewish Christians are the weaker, basing their views on the Torah. The line between gentile and Jewish Christians is, however, only roughly true. Paul was a Jewish Christian, but identified himself with the strong (Rom. 15.1). Some gentile Christians, in turn, observed the commandments of the Torah, as evidenced by Galatians. Strictly speaking, the conflict was not between Jewish and gentile Christians, but between Torah-observant and Torah nonobservant Christians.21 The verbal similarities between Rom. 13.8-10 and Romans 14–15 point to the fact that the discussion on the weak and the strong is prepared in Rom. 13.8-10.22 18. On  and  in Epictetus, see Stephens (1996). 19. (Long 2002: 200) 20. (Dobbin 1998: 176–81) 21. The previous text in this subsection (4.2.1) is mainly based on Dunn (1988: 799–802); cf. Michel (1978: 419–20), Cranfield (1979: 693–7) and Barclay (1996: 293). 22. (Räisänen 1987: 64; Dunn 1988: 797; Schmithals 1988: 478; Moo 1996: 811)



4.   The Strong and the Weak

69

(8) Owe no one anything, except to love one another; for the one who loves another has fulfilled the law (      ).23 (9) The commandments, ‘You shall not commit adultery; You shall not murder; You shall not steal; You shall not covet’; and any other commandment, are summed up in this word, ‘Love your neighbor as yourself’. (10) Love does no wrong to a neighbor; therefore, love is the fulfilling of the law.

For Paul, love is an ethical principle which is not usually based on the Torah (e.g., Rom. 12.9-10). Why does he refer to Lev. 19.18 now? A reference to the Torah is needed in preparing the discussion on the observance of the Torah in Rom. 14.1ff. As in Gal. 5.14, Paul refers to Lev. 19.18 in discussing the observance of the Torah. The love command is general enough to have an effect on the strong, while as a commandment of the Torah it is also persuasive to the weak. Summing up the Torah in ethics (or even in the love command) was a common Jewish practice.24 There are some suggestions that summing up has something to do with Stoicism,25 but this is questionable. What we can say is that Paul was in line with contemporary Jewish practice when he summed up the commandments in one. In summing up the Torah, Paul presented himself first and foremost as a Jew. After reminding his audience of the near end of the world (13.11-14) Paul begins the discussion on the weak and the strong. The love command is aimed at controlling interactions among Christians. Thus the command is an ethical requirement, unlike Epictetus’ law on the weak and the strong. For Epictetus the law expresses the unavoidable course of life which needs to be encountered with the right moral attitude and behaviour. It is just these moral principles for attitude and behaviour that are comparable with Paul’s love command. Epictetus knows the principle that one should treat others as one would treat oneself. Moreover, the words for love from the root  seem to be suitable to express the right social attitude.26 The social dimension, however, is 23. The end of the verse (‘for the one who loves another has fulfilled the law’) is understood differently by different scholars. Marxsen (1955: 237) finishes it ‘… who loves has fulfilled the other law’, and Zahn as ‘… who loved has fulfilled the rest of law’ (Zahn 1910: 562). These interpretations are possible, but not probable for the following reasons: (1) there is no other law mentioned in the context, (2) Paul never uses  without an object, (3) there is exhortation to love another in the context. See, e.g., Cranfield (1979: 675–6), Ortkemper (1980: 128), Räisänen (1987: 27 n. 70) and Dunn (1988: 776). 24. E.g., Räisänen (1987: 33–41) and Dunn (1988: 778–9). 25. Hans Hübner (1975) has supposed that this practice originates from Stoic monism. He refers to Zeno who said that one should live ‘in accordance with one concordant reason (    )’ (SVF 1.179; transl. Long and Sedley 63B). Max Pohlenz, in turn, sees the origin of Stoic monism in Semitic thinking, for Zeno and Chrysippus were of Semitic extraction (Pohlenz 1948: 165). 26. Epictetus uses words from the root  only twice (Disc. 4.4.45; 4.12.19), but never to denote social affection.

70

Paul and Epictetus on Law

secondary while self-concern is primary in his ethics. What about the social dimension in the Mosaic command (Lev. 19.18) cited by Paul? Is there also an individual starting point in maintaining ‘love your neighbor as yourself’? The exact meaning of the ending ‘as yourself’ is clear neither in the Hebrew nor in the Greek text.27 It is possible – but far from certain – that the love of oneself is the basis for love of others. Whatever the meaning of the ending is, it is obvious that Pauline ethics do not emphasize the individual. The admonition ‘love your neighbor’ is primary, while the ending ‘as yourself’ is an additional point. The context of the command in Lev. 19 makes the social intention clear. The focus is on love for others, and Paul is in line with Leviticus. He uses the love command to prevent discrepancies between the weak and strong Christians. The social coherence of the Christian community is his primary interest. Paul differs from Epictetus whose ethical starting point is self-concern. Scholars have noted the secondary nature of the social dimension in Epictetus’ ethics when compared to its place in Christianity,28 but there is no need for far-fetched conclusions in the manner of Francis Henry Sandbach: To think all men as one’s brothers is a precept that may recall Christianity, of which Epictetus betrays no knowledge. But love of mankind did not suggest primarily to him the doing of anything for their physical benefit, and that is only to be expected since he so much depreciated the value of all external things. His is a love that suffereth all things, but hardly one that is warm and outgoing, initiating positive aid and support.29

It is true that Epictetus’ primary interest is not the physical benefit of others. This, however, does not mean that there is nothing like a love ‘that is warm and outgoing, initiating positive aid and support’. Epictetus had a strong belief that ‘one can attain nothing of his own proper goods unless he contributes something to the common interest’ (Disc. 1.19.13). Epictetus’ ‘individualism’ clearly contained a social dimension. Emperor Marcus Aurelius, who admired Epictetus, makes the social dimension clear in his command to ‘fit thyself to the environment that is thy portion, and love () the men among whom thy lot is thrown, but whole-heartedly’ (Med. 6.39; transl. Haines LCL). Once he even uses expressions that closely remind one of Paul’s words. ‘The property of Rational Soul is the love of our neighbor (   )’ which is ‘a characteristic also of Law ()’ (Med. 11.1.2; transl. Haines LCL; transl. revised). Marcus’ ‘Law’ is the universal law introduced in Stoic philosophy. Engberg-Pedersen notes that ‘to state that Pauline love is altogether different from anything one finds in the ancient ethical tradition would be totally 27. (Dunn 1988: 780; Milgrom 2000: 1655) 28. (Bonhöffer 1894: 159; Deissner 1930: 11; Vollenweider 1989: 56) 29. (Sandbach 1989: 169)



4.   The Strong and the Weak

71

false’.30 Engberg-Pedersen emphasizes the social aspects of Stoic ethics, and rightly so. He even claims that the Pauline teaching of love in Romans is more restricted than the Stoic concern for others, since Paul speaks of love between Christians while Stoics were concerned for all people.31 This may, however, be a somewhat unfair comparison. Paul does not speak about love towards nonChristians in Romans, but this hardly means no concern for non-Christians (Rom. 12.14, 17-18; cf. 1 Thess. 5.15; Gal 6.10). In Rom. 13.8-10, it is enough to speak about love as an in-group phenomenon as he prepares to solve ingroup problems in Rom. 14.1ff.

4.2.2. The Weak and the Strong in the Christian Community In Rom. 14–15 Paul discusses the problems in the relationship between the weak and the strong. He decodes the problems with intellectual tools that are reminiscent of Epictetus’ Stoic theory of value, and of his use of the polite attitude towards the weaker who cannot adopt the truth which is so clear to the stronger. Thus, Paul interprets the Torah with the help of philosophy. Paul opens the discussion on the weak and the strong with an admonition to the strong (Rom. 14.1). The strong should accept those whose faith is weak, but not in order to engage in dispute (   ). The Greek expression is somewhat difficult to translate, but the thought is clear enough: the strong should not engage in religious disputes with the weak.32 The weak as well as the strong can be ‘fully convinced in their own minds’ since the convictions of both groups are aimed at honouring God (14.5-6). Thus, there is a general agreement that everything should happen in honour of God. The discrepancy is over whether eating some particular food honours God or not. A similar division between general and particular is made by Epictetus in respect to the question of holy and unholy food. This is the conflict between Jews and Syrians and Egyptians and Romans, not over the question whether holiness should be put before everything else and should be pursued in all circumstances, but whether the particular act of eating swine’s flesh is holy or unholy (Disc. 1.22.4).

The conflict over holiness is an example of the question of how to apply the socalled preconceptions.33 The preconceptions are general and widely accepted, while their application in particular cases is often a disputed matter. We should note that Epictetus’ discussion is based upon his theory of value. Holiness is good while unholiness is bad. Thus, the application of holiness (good) or unholiness (bad) is a judgement. Epictetus does not answer the question of how 30. (Engberg-Pedersen 2000: 289; Engberg-Pedersen 2005: 58; cf. Thorsteinsson 2006: 152) 31. (Engberg-Pedersen 2000: 288) 32. (Dunn 1988: 798–9; Moo 1996: 836–7) 33. On preconceptions in Stoicism, see Long (2002: 80–5) and Jackson-McCabe (2004).

72

Paul and Epictetus on Law

holiness should be applied, but continues with another example. Paul does not hide his opinion. (14) I know and am persuaded in the Lord Jesus that nothing is unclean in itself; but it is unclean for anyone who thinks it unclean (  ’          ). (15) If your brother is being injured by the food, you are no longer walking in love. Do not let what you eat cause the ruin of one for whom Christ died (Rom 14.14-15; transl. revised).

Paul’s view is based on something similar to Epictetus’ theory of value. Paul says that nothing is unclean – that is, bad – in itself. Only the conviction – or to use Epictetus’ word, judgement – makes a thing unclean. The external thing is not unclean itself, but the judgement makes it unclean. Contrary to the case with uncleanness, the role of judgement is not explicit in determinations of cleanness according to which everything is clean, i.e. good, without any reference to judgement (14.20). Paul possibly thinks that cleanness is due to judgement, but this is not transparent. Yet his view on uncleanness shows that he measures Jewish dietary and sabbatical laws from a Stoic point of view.34 According to Paul, the weak have a wrong conviction which should, however, be taken into account because the weak can be injured and ruined by partaking of forbidden food. Because of love, the strong should waive their right to eat anything and everything. This is Paul’s application of the love command in which he summed up the Torah (Rom. 13.9): love makes the strong follow dietary and sabbatical laws.35 This should not be understood as if Paul forbade all meals against the dietary laws. Had this been the case, it would have been unnecessary to forbid the weak to pass judgement on the strong (14.3-4, 10). The strong acted in a way that was against the conviction of the weak, and Paul defends the rights of the strong against the condemnation of the weak. Paul’s admonition to follow the dietary laws must be aimed at some particular situations. Possibly Paul tries to avoid the situation in which the weak are pressured to act against their convictions.36 The weak would be morally ruined if they ate something forbidden since they would act against their personal faith (Rom. 14.23). The faith of the weaker is the ultimate reason to avoid proscribed foods: ‘Whatever does not proceed from faith is sin’ (14.23). It becomes clear that sin is not a plain act but an act against one’s personal faith. Sin is also a matter of 34. Räisänen (1987: 246–8) has clearly shown that Paul does not refer to the Lord’s saying in Rom. 14.14 (cf. Mk 7.15), but to ‘a deeply felt personal conviction which Paul has reached because of his communion with the Lord’. 35. Räisänen (1987: 27) points out that in Rom. 13.8-10 Paul ignores all ‘ritual’ commandments and the question of in which sense they may be fulfilled by following the love command. Romans 14 does not give a complete answer because Paul would certainly not encourage circumcision among the gentiles (cf., however, Acts 16.3). 36. (Dunn 1988: 821)



4.   The Strong and the Weak

73

inner disposition and judgement. What is allowed to the strong is not allowed to the weak because of their different conviction. Max Pohlenz notes that this sounds like a Stoic view where an appropriate act ( ) is a sin ( ) if it does not arise out of the right disposition of mind.37 The weak are sinning when engaging in an appropriate act (eating) with a guilty mind. The food of the stronger makes the weak sad () (14.14-15). The reason for grief is not in the food but in the conviction. The thought is similar to what Epictetus says about the distressing emotions being judgements. We should cast out the judgement about something distressing, ‘and so we shall be serene’ (Disc. 3.17.9). Thus, the weak could have meat and wine with a good conscience if they changed their convictions in these matters. Yet this change may be impossible. In that case both Paul and Epictetus recommend a discreet attitude towards the weak. Epictetus accepts that one can weep with those who weep while knowing that sorrow is a wrong judgement (Ench. 16). Similarly Paul admonishes following the dietary laws while understanding that they are unnecessary. What, however, makes Paul clearly different from Epictetus is the significance they each give to social surroundings. For Epictetus the surrounding reality is threatening, as evidenced by the law on the weak and the strong. The application of the law is aimed at defending the individual’s feeling of autonomy and freedom in a world that is reigned over by a tyrant and that supplies unjust people with riches. Epictetus promotes a philosophy that makes individuals happy even without any love from others. Paul’s solution is not to present laws that secure the individual against worldly horrors. Though the non-Christian world seems to be somewhat threatening (Rom. 12.14-21), he believes in mutual love inside the Christian community, expressed as ‘love one another’ (Rom. 13.8). Epictetus and the Stoics of his day did not try to realize an ideal community.38 Clarence E. Glad has proved that Paul’s community-based thinking is closer to the Epicurean stance than to the Stoic one.39 Epicureans applied the strong– weak division to community life, where the centre was the cult of Epicurus. Glad has also shown that a discreet attitude towards the weak was a common stance in the ancient philosophies. We should also keep in mind that the division between the weak and the strong has a long history beginning from Hesiod (eighth century bce),40 and continuing through Plato (Apol. 30c–d; Gorg. 483c–e) until the time of Paul (Seneca, Ep. 90.4).41

37. (Pohlenz 1948: 129) 38. (Engberg-Pedersen 2000: 78) 39. Despite the analogies with Epicureans, Glad (1995: 9) does not suppose Epicurean influence on Paul. 40. (Ehrhardt 1959a: 27) 41. Räisänen (1992: 81–2) has a rich collection of examples.

74

Paul and Epictetus on Law

Thus what Paul says about the weak and the strong is deeply rooted in GrecoRoman philosophy. A detailed comparison with Epictetus has shown that Paul’s teaching on the Torah is also part of his philosophically informed reasoning. The love command is not something totally different from ancient moral thinking, and Paul quite naturally combined his Hebrew heritage with philosophy. On the other hand, philosophy provided a tool for understanding and settling disputes around the Mosaic commands on food, festivals, and so on.

Chapter 5 Difficulties with Law 5.1. Views on Marriage in Epictetus and in Paul Epictetus restricts sex to marriage because of law (Disc. 2.4.10; Ench. 33.8). His reasoning is vexing since he creates a discrepancy between law and nature despite his fundamental conviction that law is based on nature. Epictetus seems to seek to justify the authority of law in order to prove his view on marriage and adultery. Similarly, Paul seeks to assert the authority of the Torah while similarly denying the validity of the Torah. Paul’s passage on marriage, in particular, makes this clear (Rom. 7.2-3). There are also similar aspects in Paul’s and Epictetus’ views on marriage.

5.1.1. Epictetus: Discrepancy between Law and Nature Referring to Encheiridion 33.8, Bonhöffer says that Epictetus allowed sex before marriage.1 Bonhöffer’s view is based on a certain interpretation of this philologically difficult passage.                              In your sex-life preserve purity, as far as you can, before marriage, but if you indulge in sex, take only a lawful [option]. However, do not make yourself offensive, or censorious, to those who do indulge, and do not make frequent mention of the fact that you do not yourself indulge (Ench. 33.8; transl. revised).

The Greek word   generally refers to sexual pleasures. The plural does not unambiguously indicate that Epictetus is thinking of different kinds of sexual pleasures. He can also refer to repeated pleasures. If he, however, considers different kinds of sexual pleasures, the word does not indicate exactly what kinds of pleasures are meant.2 The word does not even indicate if the pleasures do or do not involve partner(s). What we can read is that Epictetus exhorts his audience to avoid all sexual experiences before marriage. 1. (Bonhöffer 1894: 64, 66; 1911: 332) 2. (Foucault 1987: 35–52; Dover 2002: 225–6)

76

Paul and Epictetus on Law

Whatever the pleasures are, Epictetus tolerates them if they are ‘lawful’ (). The Greek expression  is obscure, but it is clearly not an adjective defining the tolerated pleasures. Such a use would presuppose the plural (). The phrase   seemingly refers to a lawful condition in general. Thus Epictetus is not thinking of a classification of lawful and unlawful pleasures, but of a lawful condition that makes pleasures (whatever they are) tolerable. What, then, is the lawful condition? At first sight we might think of something like masturbation, a relationship with a prostitute, or with one’s own slave. This kind of sex was allowed by state law and, thus, lawfulness would mean the same as ‘according to the state law’. This, however, is questionable. There is no other passage in Epictetus that allows extramarital sex.3 Besides, in Encheiridion 33.8, Epictetus uses the word ‘lawful’ twice, once in referring to state laws (Disc. 2.13.6) and once in speaking of rules in sports (Disc. 3.10.8). Both times lawfulness is compared to moral principles in philosophy. Therefore it is probable that lawfulness also refers to something philosophically accepted in Encheiridion 33.8. Epictetus’ teacher, Musonius Rufus, sheds more light on the issue: Men who are not wantons or immoral are bound to consider sexual pleasures () justified only when it occurs in marriage ( ) and is indulged in for the purpose of begetting children, since that is lawful ( ), but unjust and unlawful () when it is mere pleasure-seeking, even in marriage. But of all sexual relations those involving adultery are most unlawful (), and no more tolerable are those of men with men, because it is a monstrous thing and contrary to nature. But, furthermore, leaving out of consideration adultery, all intercourse with women which is without lawful character (    ) is shameful and is practiced from lack of self-restraint. So no one with any self-control would think of having relations with a courtesan or a free woman apart from marriage ( ), no, nor even with his own maidservant. The fact that those relationships are not lawful (   ) or seemly makes them a disgrace and a reproach to those seeking them (Musonius Rufus 12; transl. by Lutz, slightly revised).4

Musonius’ stand is unambiguous: sexual pleasures are lawful only in marriage for the purpose of begetting children.5 The state law was more liberal. Thus, lawfulness refers to what the philosopher accepts, not to the things allowed by the state laws. This fits well with Epictetus, who probably identified lawfulness with that which can be accepted philosophically. The similarities between 3. Bonhöffer (1894: 64, 67) holds the opposite view and refers to Disc. 2.8.12, 15, Disc. 4.1.143 and Encheiridion 41. All the passages deal with sex, but none with the criteria for allowed sex. 4. (Lutz 1947: 86–7) 5. For Musonius’ views on sex, see van Geytenbeek (1963: 71–7), Foucault (1986: 168–74), Houser (2002: 339–41) and Nussbaum (2002: 298–9, 308–11).



5.   Difficulties with Law

77

Musonius’ and Epictetus’ vocabulary and their master–student relationship make it probable that Epictetus shared Musonius’ view on this issue. This means that Epictetus allows sex only in marriage. But is this interpretation philologically possible? It is clear that the sentence opens with an exhortation to avoid sex before marriage. Then he continues with an adversative clause, ‘but if you indulge in sex (  ), take only a lawful option’. We should note that  refers unambiguously to the word  in the previous clause. Nothing, however, requires that  refer to premarital pleasures. The words   are not so closely associated with the word  that  must include the idea of the premarital status of the pleasures. The words   are more closely related to the subsequent verbal adjective than to the more distant . The word  possibly refers to sexual pleasures without further qualifications. Thus it is philologically possible to understand that Epictetus exhorts his listeners to marry if they cannot preserve sexual purity. Marriage is a concession to sexual urges, but celibacy is preferred in Encheiridion 33.8. The preferability of celibacy becomes clear at the end of the passage: sexual purity is obviously something so brave that it could cause boasting. Similarly, in one case marriage is presented as a concession for Cynic preachers. A Cynic should normally live without a wife, so that he is ‘free from distraction’ () and ‘wholly devoted to the service of God’ (Disc. 3.22.69). A married man has family duties that would be a distraction ( ) from his practice as a Cynic. Only special circumstances allow for marriage, as with erotic love ( ) in the case of the Cynic Crates (Disc. 3.22.76; cf. 4.1.147). The Stoics had no self-evident grounds for the prohibition of all extramarital sex. Like Plato, Zeno and Chrysippus envisioned an ideal society where all women are common property (Plato, Resp. 457c–d; SVF 1.269 Zenon; 3.728 Chrysippus).6 These visions are certainly more intellectual play than practice (Plato, Resp. 472a–473a; SVF 1.244 Zenon), but they still had an influence. Epictetus says that Roman women read Plato’s Republic because Plato ‘insists on community of women’. I am not sure if Epictetus describes actual reality among Roman women, but he is at pains to explain that the women have misinterpreted Plato (Fragm. 15). The topic recurs in Disc. 2.4, where nature and law are opposed. (8) What then, you say; are not women by nature common property ( )? I agree. And a little pig is the common property () of the invited guests; but when the portions have been assigned, if it so pleases you, approach and snatch up the portion of the guest who reclines at your side, steal it secretly, or slip in your hand and glut your greed, and if you cannot tear off a piece of the meat, get your fingers greasy and lick them. A fine companion you would make at a feast, and a dinnerguest

6. (Erskine 1990: 25–6; Nussbaum 2002: 309–10)

78

Paul and Epictetus on Law worthy of Socrates! (9) Come now, is not theater the common property () of the citizens? When, therefore, they are seated there, go, if it so pleases you, and throw someone of them out of his seat. (10) In the same way women also are by nature common property ( ). But when the lawgiver ( ), like a host at a banquet, has apportioned them, are you not willing like the rest to look for your own portion instead of filching away and glutting your greed upon that which is another’s? ‘But I am a scholar and understand Archedemus’. (11) Very well, then, understand Archedemus and be an adulterer and faithless and a wolf or an ape instead of a man; for what it is there to prevent you? (Disc. 2.4.8–11; transl. revised)

The reference to Archedemus of Tarsus, a Stoic in the second century bce, presupposes that Epictetus’ interlocutor subscribed to the view that ‘women are common property by nature’. Possibly the interlocutor has defended adultery by referring to Archedemus,7 or Epictetus anticipates such a defence. Epictetus seems to be in trouble since elsewhere he appreciates Archedemus.8 There would be no adultery if the principle ‘women are common property by nature’ is valid without qualifications. Epictetus’ solution is to limit the validity of the principle so that everything is common property, but only before use. Implementation makes for private ownership. What is striking in Epictetus’ argumentation is the qualification of the natural state in section 10. Epictetus repeats that women are common property by nature, and adds that the lawgiver changes the natural state. Are things different by nature and by law? As we saw in Chapter 3, Epictetus identifies law and nature with each other. It is possible to understand Epictetus’ words to mean that women were common property by nature, but then nature as lawgiver changed the state of affairs. Nature is the lawgiver who dictates the course of things. Yet, in Disc. 2.4.10, the juxtaposition of nature and law indicates a difference rather than identification: women are common property by nature, private by law. There is no outspoken idea of progressive development; the law abruptly changes the natural state. This sounds like the ancient idea of the contradiction – not identification – between nature and law (e.g., Plato, Gorg. 482c–484c; Aristotle, Eth. Nic. 1134b). Epictetus seems to apply this approach against his own philosophical foundations. Basically, Epictetus’ contradiction between nature and law means a contradiction between nature and God. Epictetus’ lawgiver is not an ancient wise man, like Lycurgus or Solon, or the lawgiver of the Platonic state, who assigns marriages (Plato, Resp. 458c). Epictetus does not speak about Plato’s ideal state or a society reigned over by the laws of an ancient wise man, but about contemporary Roman society. The lawgiver compared to the host of the banquet cannot 7. Thus Oldfather’s translation and Foucault (1986: 171). ‘You say’ (section 8) is an interpretive addition by Oldfather which ascribes the next sentence to the interlocutor. Obviously it is a view that is originally uttered by someone other than Epictetus as he agrees with it ( ). 8. Disc. 2.17.40; 2.19.9; 3.2.13; 3.21.7. (Bonhöffer 1890: 153; 1894: 125)

5.   Difficulties with Law



79

be anyone other than God. It is Epictetus’ general conviction that a wife is a gift of providence.9 Thus nature not only differs from the law but also from the will of God. This surprising view seems to be due to Epictetus’ difficult situation. His argumentation seems to support his interlocutor. Epictetus reproaches the interlocutor in an exceptionally harsh manner,10 but he has no counterarguments at hand. He avoids the loss of face by invoking the non-Stoic nature/law contradiction. As a professional philosopher he surely understood what he was doing. The thought that God apportions women supposes that a particular man has a particular woman as his wife. Thus the law set by God as a lawgiver is not only a general principle that every man has his own wife. Instead, every particular marriage seems to be ordered by the divine law. The law is a particular bond between the spouses. Epictetus does not develop this idea by requiring any mutual love or care in the marriage, like Musonius, his teacher, does (Musonius Rufus 13 and 14).11 Instead, Epictetus understands marriage as a relation between an owner and one owned. It is the ownership that is enshrined by the law. An adulterer steals property that belongs by law to another man. Thus the adulterer destroys the mutual confidence among men in society.12 What is the penalty for the adulterer? On this question Epictetus is faithful to his philosophy as introduced in Chapter 3. He does not speak about any external penalties, but about the loss of moral character. The adulterer has destroyed the man of fidelity, self-respect and piety (section 2), and has himself turned from a human being into a wolf and an ape (section 11).

5.1.2. Paul: Law on Marriage – Valid and Invalid Paul opens Romans 7 by claiming that the law rules over the person only during his lifetime (v. 1). Christians have ‘died to the law through the body of Christ’ (v. 4), they are ‘discharged from the law’, and ‘dead to that which held’ them captive (v. 6). Paul means that the law is not valid in a Christian life.13 In vv. 2-3 he tries to illustrate how death invalidates law. The illustration is not fully successful, as Räisänen points out: Paul starts from the idea that a law is binding for a human being as long as he or she lives. One would expect the conclusion to be: when a man dies, he is free from the law; Paul actually states this much in v. 4a. Verses 2–3, however, introduce a picture that confuses more than clarifies the issue. Logically, a picture would be needed in which the one who dies corresponds to the Christian who, according to Paul, has ‘died’ (with Christ) to the law. In Paul’s analogy, however, it is not the wife who dies,



9. 10. 11. 12. 13.

(Bonhöffer 1894: 86. Cf. Fragm. 17 and Ench. 15) (Bonhöffer 1894: 67; 1911: 370; Hock 1991: 129) (Lutz 1947: 88–97) (Foucault 1986: 171) (Räisänen 1987: 46–7)

80

Paul and Epictetus on Law but the first husband, and he must correspond to the law. Christ is then introduced as the new husband, as   in 4b (referring to   in 3b) shows. The analogy is simply confusing: it suits neither the opening statement (v. 1) nor the conclusion (v. 4).14

These confusions are fully understandable since normal life gives no proper analogy for Christians who must first die in order to live again.15 This fact, however, does not diminish the logical difficulties. The illustration in Rom. 7.1-6 is problematic even when it comes to the concept of law. An immediate impression is that the law Paul is speaking about is the Torah. There is a quotation from the Torah in verse 7, and Paul has not mentioned any change in the meaning of the law before that. Thus we can safely conclude that the law denotes the Torah throughout Rom. 7.1-6.16 Or can we? There are expressions in vv. 2-3, like   , which probably originate from the Scriptures.17 This confirms that verses 2-3 refer to the legislation on second marriage in the Torah (Deut. 24.1-3), but it does not follow that the verses are wholly dependent on the Torah. Strictly speaking, Paul’s description of the marital bond differs from that in Deut. 24.1-3, which grants husbands the right of divorce. After a wife gets the bill of divorce, she is free to remarry (  ) (Deut. 24.2). A life-long marriage was expected only in exceptional cases (Deut. 22.19, 29). Paul could have forgotten the divorce law had it been a dead letter in early Judaism, but this was not the case. Divorce was not rare among the Jews.18 Therefore Paul’s words on the marriage law do not fit with the words of the Torah.19 Paul does not clearly refer to the Roman law, either, as a Roman wife could quite easily receive a divorce on her own.20 One particular high-class marriage scandal was surely in fresh memory when Paul’s epistle arrived at Rome. A couple of years before, Empress Messalina married a new man while her husband, Emperor Claudius, was off on a journey (Tacitus, Ann. 11.12, 26–38). The remarriage was not, however, a transgression of the law as Messalina had divorced beforehand (Ann. 11.30).21 14. (Räisänen 1987: 61–2) 15. (Kuula 2003: 217) 16. (Fitzmyer 1993: 455–6) 17.  /    (Deut. 24.2; Jer. 3.1; Hos. 3.3),  (e.g., Prov. 18.22; Hos. 3.1), and  (Num. 5.20, 29; Prov. 6.24, 29; Sir. 9.9). The expressions are not absolutely limited to Jewish-Christian usage, but in the present context a relationship with the Old Testament is expected (Dunn 1988: 360–1; Fitzmyer 1993: 457–8). On  in non-Jewish literature, see Antiochus Astrologus, Fragm. (e. cod. Monac.), vol. 7, p. 109 lines 6 and 20 [TLG database]. 18. (Satlow 2001: 183) 19. (Cf. Dunn 1988: 360) 20. (Dunn 1988: 360; Arjava 1996: 177) 21. Somewhat obscure is a passage by Achilles Tatius (second century ce). It becomes clear that the death of the husband is the precondition for remarriage, but it is questionable if the



5.   Difficulties with Law

81

Paul’s view of life-long marriage without the possibility to divorce seems strange in its legal and social context. What appears to be at stake is the Christian view introduced more profoundly in 1 Corinthians 7.22 A remarriage after divorce is explicitly refuted (1 Cor. 7.10-11) which makes it clear why ‘a wife is bound as long as her husband lives’. Actually, Paul strengthens his point in 1 Cor. 7.39 by adapting a standard legal formula found in divorce documents: ‘She is free to marry anyone she wishes’, but – as Paul points out – only after the death of her husband. The legal parlance is also echoed in Rom. 7.2-3.23 The imitation of divorce documents when speaking of the end of marriage in death implicitly points to the prohibition of divorce. A similar impression can be gained from Paul’s expression about prohibited remarriage (  ). The same words denote permitted remarriage after divorce in the Torah (Deut. 24.2). It is obvious that Paul modifies the earlier practice. The prohibition of divorce is possibly combined with beliefs about God’s special assistance in match-making. Paul and Epictetus do not represent the law as a general requirement for fidelity in marriage. Paul speaks of a certain ‘law concerning the husband’ (Rom. 7.2). It is precisely this law that becomes invalid when the husband dies. It implies that Paul sees the law as creating a certain bond between a certain wife and a certain husband. This is much like Epictetus’ thought of God’s legislation in the ordination of spouses. According to 1  Cor. 7.10, the ultimate reason to refute remarriage after divorce is the Lord’s command (cf. Mk 10.11-12; Lk. 16.18). The same view is mirrored in Rom. 7.2-3 although it is represented as a command of the Torah. Seemingly the commands of the Torah and of the Lord are blended. The Torah is interpreted as if the requirements it presents are the same as those of the Lord, and thus the marital law is portrayed as valid in Christian life. What, then, does Paul aim to prove with this valid law? The amazing answer is: the invalidity of the law (Rom. 7.6)! The logic of the argumentation is seriously blurred. It is so blurred that Paul must have been conscious of it. The turn Paul makes should be understood as a quick fix when he was ‘at pains to find some argument at least’.24 Paul’s rhetorical turn is no less surprising than Epictetus’ invocation of law against nature. Epictetus was in a no less difficult situation than Paul, and the invocation of law should be understood as an emergency exit from an unwanted conclusion. Both bury their lack of argument behind the authoritative concept of the law. passage also refers to divorce. It says that there is a crime,           (Leuc. Clit. 8.10.12). Should it be translated ‘if the marriage is not ended while the husband is still living’, or as Gaselee translates it, ‘if the marriage has not come to an end, owing to the fact that the husband is still alive’? 22. Thus also Vollenweider (1989: 341 n. 273). 23. (Deming 1995a: 149–50) 24. (Räisänen 1987: 62)

82

Paul and Epictetus on Law

It is possible that Paul really thought that his Christian view on marriage is identical with that in the Torah, although they are not. There are, however, remnants of the Torah in the words Paul uses. Is there also Jewish influence on Paul’s view about sexual purity, as some scholars think?25 According to 1 Cor. 7.14 the unbelieving spouse is holy through the Christian partner, and thus the children are pure (1 Cor. 7.14). According to Will Deming this passage deals with ‘the fear of moral pollution via physical association’. He provides a wealth of Greco-Roman parallels which deal with the evil influence of morally questionable fellowships.26 Paul’s argumentation in 1 Corinthians 7 is mainly moral, but not wholly so. Deming leaves aside the ‘cultic’ conceptions of holiness and purity.27 It is noteworthy that Epictetus also uses cultic language of purity when discussing sexual matters in Encheiridion 33.8, where he holds that one should remain pure of sex as far as possible. Sex is seen as impure as such, but it is legal to defile oneself in marriage. Whatever the exact meaning of this thought is, its general background was in Greco-Roman religions. Decrees on sexual purity were well-known and they also occurred in philosophical works.28 Epictetus’ language of purity shows us that Paul’s conceptions of purity and holiness were not an eccentric feature in the eyes of the gentiles, not even among the philosophically educated. In fact, Paul’s words in 1 Cor. 7.14 are general enough to be independent of the Torah, and they were understandable also to those not familiar with the Torah. This is not to determine whether Paul is dependent on Jewish or gentile thinking in 1 Cor. 7.14. In any case, his words fit in the purity language familiar to ancient Mediterranean people in general. According to Epictetus, all extramarital sexual experiences are against the moral law. Paul seems to share this view. One should marry because of ‘sexual immorality’ (1 Cor. 7.2). If one is ‘aflame with passion’, the solution is to marry (1 Cor. 7.9). Paul thinks, like Epictetus, that sex is allowable only in marriage, which is a concession to those who cannot preserve celibacy. Epictetus emphasizes that especially Cynic preachers should remain unmarried, but allowed for marriage under certain circumstances. He accepted the marriage of the Cynic Crates because of erotic love (Disc. 3.22.76). Similarly, Paul prefers celibacy, but allows marriage because of the sexual drive (1 Cor. 7.9, 36).29 Paul’s reason to prefer celibacy is closely similar to the Cynic-like stance which Epictetus promotes in Disc. 3.22 – a feature that shows his vacillation between Stoicism and Cynicism.30 While Stoics had a positive attitude towards 25. (Fee 1987: 299–302; Barrett 1994: 165) 26. (Deming 1995a: 134–48) 27. This ‘cultic’ aspect is stressed by Schrage (1995: 104–5). 28. (Parker 1990: 74–103) Parker deals mainly with early Greek religion, but his study makes clear enough that such views were still common in the first centuries ce. 29. (Deming 1995a: 130–1) 30. (Deming 1995a: 83–7, 199–205)



5.   Difficulties with Law

83

marriage, the Cynic stance was more hesitant: an unmarried man can be ‘free from distraction’ () and ‘wholly devoted to the service of God’, while a married man lives in distraction ( ) because of his family (Disc. 3.22.69–72). Paul shares this view: married men cannot devote themselves to God without distraction (1 Cor. 7.32-5). Some rabbis, too, were faced with the problem of tension between the commitment to marriage and the commitment to study the Torah.31 They were possibly aware of the Cynic–Stoic debate on marriage.32 The problem rabbis had was, however, not the same as that of either Paul or a Cynic. The latter did not care about the study of the Torah, but about a general commitment to God. Paul refers to the Torah when speaking about marriage, but he, in fact, distances himself from its commands. What takes over is the Lord’s commandment and a Cynic-like stance similar to that of Epictetus. They are more important than the Torah. My analysis shows that Paul’s purity language does not indicate only Jewish influence. Like Judaism, Greco-Roman paganism was concerned with purity. Paul’s reference to the Torah does not imply any distinct Jewish thinking. This fact should, however, not be missed among scholars on Paul and law. We need an approach which takes seriously the Greco-Roman context of Paul’s teaching on law.

5.2. Epictetus and Paul on Divine Law and State Law In this section I analyse those of Epictetus’ texts which demonstrate his problems with state law and the state in general. These problems are due to his philosophy. On the one hand, the state law is an external and indifferent thing which can be used and accepted as a matter of fact. On the other hand, the state law poses ethical requirements which cannot be accepted. Epictetus emphatically points out that the state cannot control people with violent means since violence is an external thing. We will see that Paul discusses the same matters but adopts a different view. He regards state authority as a matter of fact, but, unlike Epictetus, accepts violent control and does not see ethical problems with authorities putting requirements on their subjects. A comparison with Epictetus helps us to understand Paul’s teaching as a part of ancient discussion on state and law.

5.2.1. Epictetus: Harmony with Minor Reservations As we saw in Chapter 3, Epictetus claims that a good and excellent person ‘subordinates’ ( ) his or her will to God like good citizens do as regards the state law (Disc. 1.12.7). There seems to be no reserve towards 31. (Satlow 2001: 30–4) 32. (Satlow 2001: 286 n. 220)

Paul and Epictetus on Law

84

the state law. We meet a similar view in Epictetus’ crisis therapy (Disc. 3.24.104–110) aimed at overcoming a shock reaction. The third stage of the therapy suggests: Then comes the most decisive point: ‘Who was it that has sent the order?’ Leader or praetor, state, the law of the state (   ). ‘Give it to me, then, for I must always obey the law (  ) in every particular’ (Disc. 3.24.107; transl. revised).

A particular reference to the state is somewhat surprising here since before this passage Epictetus seems to discuss any general crisis. Is Epictetus really speaking of the state? ‘State’ and its law could denote the cosmopolis and its law, and ‘leader’ ( ) and ‘praetor’ ( ) could refer to God, like in Disc. 3.26.29. There is, however, no indication of the derived meanings in Disc. 3.24.107. ‘Leader or praetor’ cannot mean God here since they are two different alternatives (‘or’). The passage should, thus, be understood literally: Epictetus means the state, its law, and the state authorities. Epictetus’ language personifies the state and the law. This may go back to Plato, who in Crito (50a) personified laws and the state and expected obedience. In Crito, Socrates is reported to maintain that his death sentence is God’s will (54d). Did Epictetus understand the acts of the authorities as the will of God? After describing the stages of crisis therapy, he says that hardships are God’s call to demonstrate Stoic virtues (Disc. 3.24.111–112), and he continues as follows: (113) These are the terms upon which now He brings me here, and again He sends me there; to mankind exhibits me in poverty, without office, in sickness; sends me away to Gyara, brings me into prison. Not because He hates me – perish the thought! And who hates the best of his servants? Nor because He neglects me, for He does not neglect any of even the least of His creatures; but because He is training me, and making use of me as a witness to the rest of men. (114) When I have been appointed to such a service, am I any longer to take thought as to where I am, or with whom, or what men say about me? Am I not wholly intent upon God, and His commands and ordinances (          )? (Disc. 3.24.113–114)

Epictetus emphatically rejects the thought that hardships are due to God’s hate or negligence. This rejection was commonplace among Stoics, and accepted in larger circles.33 The hardships create the ‘apostle’ of Stoic philosophy – an idea reminiscent of Paul’s hardship catalogues (e.g., 1 Cor. 4.7-15). It is obvious that one is exiled and imprisoned by authorities, but God is the ultimate reason for their acts. The will of authorities and that of God merge together. This fact is not changed even though Epictetus discounts the social circumstances as indifferent, saying that it does not matter ‘where I am, or with whom, or what men say about me’. The Stoic apatheia leads him to accept the present circumstances as 33. (Croy 1998: 138–56)



5.   Difficulties with Law

85

the will of God. This is why Epictetus expresses no reserve towards authorities and the state law. Epictetus describes the state, the law, exile, and imprisonment as unavoidable facts. They can be suffered voluntarily or involuntarily, but they are impossible to escape. Whenever an individual is portrayed as a passive subject of the authorities and the law, there is no room for criticism. The critical attitude arises when Epictetus considers the acts of the authorities from their point of view (cf. the ever-recurrent figure of a tyrant). Correspondingly, when it comes to legislation, Epictetus is ready to discuss if the philosophical background of the laws is apt. A philosophical estimation of the state laws is given in Disc. 2.20.22–26. Epictetus ridicules Scepticism, the philosophy of the Academy,34 by describing the absurd consequences of its application in civil life.35 He ironically praises the view that God’s existence, piety and sanctity is a lie told by ‘legislators to frighten and restrain evildoers’ (sections 23–24). What follows from this view is the loss of righteousness, reverence and family ties. ‘Well done, philosopher’, is his sarcastic comment to an imaginary Academic (section 25). What Epictetus really thinks of Scepticism is presented in a series of rhetorical questions. Is it from principles like these that our states governed by good laws ( 36 ) have grown great? Have these principles made Sparta what it was? Are these the convictions which Lycurgus wrought into the Spartans by his laws (   ) and his system of education, namely that neither is slavery base rather than noble, nor freedom noble rather than base? Did those at Thermopylae die because of these judgements regarding slavery and freedom? And for what principles but these did the men of Athens give up their city? (Disc. 2.20.26; transl. revised)

The principles behind ‘our states governed by the good laws’ () – the questions that follow show that Epictetus means the city-states in past Greece – are alien to the Sceptic philosophy. Correspondingly, Scepticism did not give birth to the Spartan legislation. Lycurgus taught right views on 34. Disc. 2.20 is addressed as a rebuttal to Epicureans and Academics. The passage I discuss here is addressed against Academics as the Sceptic arguments are criticized immediately before Disc. 2.20.22 (Hijmans 1959: 28–9). In fact, the Academy was no longer Sceptic in Epictetus’ lifetime (Long 1974: 106), and Epictetus’ views mirror the criticism of early Stoics in the Academy during its Sceptic times. Long (1974: 90–106) presents the main lines of the Sceptic criticism. 35. (Bultmann 1984: 62) 36. The reading of corrector Sb. The original reading is  (accentuation differs in editions) which can be the passive participle present/perfect of  with irregular contraction (for examples, see Liddell and Scott 1953: ). There are, however, no other examples of this kind of irregular contraction in Epictetus (Disc. 1.22.3; 2.14.11; 2.21.10). Corrector Sb may be right as  is often linked with  (see, e.g., Plato, Crito 53b–c; Resp. 607c; Leg. 927b, 950a, 951b; Aristotle, Pol. 1294a, 1327a; Rhet. 1354a; Xenophon, Oec. 9.14).

86

Paul and Epictetus on Law

freedom and slavery, which is proved by what happened in the Persian wars: Spartans died at Thermopylae while the Athenians fled. The Athenians’ escape is supposed to be due to their Sceptic philosophy. Epictetus’ argumentation, however, is not entirely clear. First, it is odd that he praises dying for political freedom, something which he otherwise downplays (Disc. 4.1.171).37 Second, both Spartans and Athenians valued freedom above slavery. The Spartans died for freedom and the Athenians fled for it. What is the philosophical difference? Epictetus goes along with the conventional praise for heroic death and condemnation of cowardly flight. Scepticism is associated with the latter. This association does not follow from a strictly philosophical argumentation but from conventional values. Whatever the character of Epictetus’ argumentation, one thing is clear: his estimation of the state laws depends on their philosophical acceptability. Epi­ ctetus’ attitude is reserved. If the state laws are philosophically unacceptable, the primary loyalty is obvious, since one is in the first place a part of the cosmopolis (Disc. 2.5.26), the world ruled by God.38 By mentioning the laws of Lycurgus, Epictetus also hints at the educational purpose of the laws. As Lycurgus taught the Spartans, so all rulers should teach their subjects. Violence is not the way to rule rational beings (Disc. 3.7.32–36). This is not to say that Epictetus rejects violent rule absolutely. Violence may be in good use when authorities punish wrongdoers, but rational means are much better: To the kings and tyrants of this world their bodyguards and their arms used to afford the privilege of censuring certain persons, and the power also to punish those who do wrong, no matter how guilty they themselves were;39 whereas to the Cynic it is his conscience ( ) which affords him this power ( ), and not his arms and his bodyguards (Disc. 3.22.94)

5.2.2. Epictetus: Veiled Contradiction As we saw, Epictetus is absolutely loyal to the state law whenever he understands the law as an unavoidable matter of fact. The reason is obvious, as one cannot but obey an unavoidable law. He could be critical in matters pertaining to legislation, but he basically accepted the state laws. Epictetus’ criticism is, thus, moderate. The picture changes radically when a law is not an unavoidable fact, but an ethical requirement. Whenever the state laws require active thinking 37. (Sidebottom 1993: 255) 38. (Bonhöffer 1894: 97; Gill 2000: 610–11) 39. According to Oldfather (1985: 165 n. 1), Epictetus uses the imperfect tense to avoid saying that Roman emperors are evil men. Why would he avoid this while he criticizes Nero (in the same discourse in section 30!) and Vespasian (Disc. 1.2.19–21) by name? Billerbeck (1978: 153–4) has a much better explanation: Epictetus refers to mythological and deceased persons dealt with in the textual context of the passage. Those persons are examples of a general truth, and thus Epictetus’ words refer to all rulers, including the Roman ones.



5.   Difficulties with Law

87

and acting, an individual must choose between obedience and disobedience. Thus the law does not pose a necessity to obey but an ethical requirement that calls for either assent or dissent. One can be pressured by violence to follow the orders of authorities. This is the situation that matters a lot to Epictetus, and he is often eager to show that one can preserve ethical integrity even under the most severe violence. In Disc. 4.7, entitled ‘Of Freedom From Fear’, he discusses the possibilities of maintaining ethical integrity before a tyrant. It also touches upon obedience to the state laws. The discourse opens with a question and answer which define the topic of fear of violence. ‘What makes the tyrant an object of fear ()? – His guards, someone says, and their swords ( ), and the chamberlain, and those who exclude persons who would enter’ (Disc. 4.7.1). Epictetus continues by describing different reasons for fearlessness, including a passing reference to the Galileans, i.e., Christians (Disc. 4.7.6).40 Then he turns to philosophy, which offers the best reason for fearlessness. Poverty, deprivation of office, troubles, exile, death, etc. – a tyrant tries to frighten subjects with these things, but they are indifferent externals. True freedom does not mean physical or political freedom, but freedom of mind. (16) Is it for this that the tyrant inspires fear? Is it because of this that his guards seem to have long and sharp swords ( )? Let others see to that; but I have considered all this, no one has authority () over me. (17) I have been set free by God, I know his commands ( 41             ),  no one has power any longer to make a slave of me, I have the right kind of advocate, and the right kind of judges (Disc. 4.7.16–17; transl. revised).

Epictetus expresses the reason for fearlessness with declamatory slogans that should be understood in terms of his philosophy. First of all, one has to consider things. He is speaking of philosophical consideration since consideration is the opposite (‘but’) of the fear described before. Philosophical consideration makes one free from the tyrant. Thus one can get freedom by oneself (section 16). Surprisingly Epictetus continues (section 17) by claiming that freedom is obtained from God as though one were a passive subject in becoming free. There seems to be a double meaning of the word freedom in this passage. On the one hand, freedom is a divine potential in all humans (section 17).42 On the other, one has 40. Hengel (1976: 60–1) tried to prove that ‘Galileans’ denotes Zealots. It is, however, questionable whether Zealots were famous enough to be acknowledged in a passing reference. Christians were known, and there was possibly a Christian community in Nicopolis, Epictetus’ hometown (Tit. 3.12). 41. The reading of corrector Sc instead of the corrupted  in S. 42. For more on this aspect of freedom, see Pohlenz (1955: 164–5) and Vollenweider (1989: 35–7).

88

Paul and Epictetus on Law

to mobilize this potential through philosophical consideration. Thus freedom is also a human achievement (section 16).43 What, then, are God’s commands? In this context, they are the philosophical principles God has secured for every person. These principles make it possible for a person to achieve freedom. Next Epictetus describes the same thing with an illustration involving manumission. Because slaves have no legal capacity they need an adsertor, an advocate.44 The advocate symbolizes the philosophical way of life as in Disc. 3.24.76–77. Judges bear a similar symbolism in the text. Epictetus’ point is that philosophy makes one free. Epictetus propagates a philosophical attitude that makes one mentally free from tyrants. Physically the tyrant can expose the subject to imprisonment, expulsion, torture or death, not to mention more lenient coercive measures. Despite these measures one can boldly say ‘no’ to the tyrant. Epictetus expresses this in religious terms by saying that one has to please God rather than any of the authorities (  ). Power ( ) and armed guards (   ) amount to nothing (Disc. 1.30.1, 6–7). This kind of attitude was potentially rebellious, or at least passively resistant. No wonder that there are examples of Stoic opposition in the Roman empire.45 The political aspect of philosophy is also discussed in Disc. 4.7 in which Epictetus emphasizes the freedom that God’s commands give (sections 16–17 above). Epictetus reaffirms that philosophy makes it possible to live mentally free from the tyrant. This makes an interlocutor – real or imaginary – worry about obedience to the state laws. (33) Oh yes, but statements like these make men despise the laws ( ). — Quite the contrary, what statements other than these make the men who follow them more ready to obey the laws (   )? (34) Law is not simply anything that is in the power of a fool ( ’     ). And yet see how these statements make us behave properly even toward these fools, because they teach us to claim against such persons nothing in which they can surpass us. (35) They teach us to give way when it comes to our paltry body, to give way when it comes to our property, to our children, parents, brothers, to retire from everything, let everything go; they except only our judgements, and it was the will of Zeus also that these should be each man’s special possession. (36) What do you mean by speaking of lawlessness () and stupidity here? Where you are superior and stronger, there I give way to you; and again, where I am superior, you retire in favor of me (Disc. 4.7.33–36; transl. revised).

43. Bonhöffer (1911: 307) also notes the double meaning though he associates both with passage 17. Jones (1987: 104, 124, 126) seems to vacillate between both meanings. On the double meaning cf. Nestle (1967: 133–4) and Disc. 4.7.8–10: Everyone is free by nature and this freedom can be actualized through philosophical consideration. 44. For the manumission process, see, e.g., E. Weiss (1930) and Paulus (1996). 45. (Pohlenz 1948: 282–7; MacMullen 1975: 46–94; Cancik 1981: 59; Francis 1995: 6–11)



5.   Difficulties with Law

89

Epictetus claims that a right philosophy makes one loyal to the state laws. Is he honest? ‘Yes’, many scholars say,46 but a close reading will prove the opposite. Epictetus quietly changes the meaning of ‘law’. When Epictetus reaffirmed the Stoic freedom from the tyrant, the interlocutor starts to worry about obedience to the state laws. The interlocutor identifies obedience to the tyrant with obedience to the laws. Epictetus challenges this identification, claiming that the law is independent of a tyrant. To make his point even clearer he calls the tyrant a fool. Who can say that the law has something to do with the will of a fool? Epictetus continues by describing one as a passive subject of the tyrant. This cannot cause any harm if one is the master of his own judgements and gives way in everything else. Epictetus asks whether these things are against the laws, and the expected answer is ‘no’. A passive subject is surely no lawbreaker. Chester G. Starr accepts Epictetus’ reasoning, writing, ‘Many a man has since found in his heart the same answer to a tyrant as Epictetus: to obey and to serve the state outwardly but to retain his inner freedom of thought’.47 Yes, Epictetus retains his inner freedom. He is even ready to suffer anything passively, but he is surely not ready to serve the state outwardly. Epictetus’ discourses, including Disc. 4.7, promote the idea that no one can be forced to obey and that everyone is free. As Disc. 4.7.16–17 showed, Stoic philosophy ensures freedom from the will of the tyrant. What is most striking is that Epictetus has already given an example of disobedience a little before the interlocutor’s question in his recounting of Socrates’ refusal to obey the command of the 30 tyrants (Disc. 4.7.30; cf. Plato, Apol. 32c). Epictetus’ claim that philosophy and the state laws correspond to each other is nothing but a diversion. He blurs legal and moral categories. In Rome the emperor had enough power to affect legislation, and Epictetus himself tells how exceptional it was for a senator to be courageous enough to resist the emperor (Disc. 2.1.19–24). In fact, Roman law was ‘in the power of a fool’, morally acceptable or not. Thus Epictetus really admonishes his audience to despise the state laws when claiming that the law is something other than the will of the emperor. What, then, is the law that Epictetus prefers if not the actual state law? It is not the general sense of justice. What Epictetus says in sections 34–6 is his standard philosophy. In section 36 we meet the law on the strong and the weak that was dealt with in Chapter 4. The laws he is ready to obey are neither the actual state laws nor the general sense of justice, but the philosophical, viz. moral laws. The philosophical sense of justice differs from the general sense 46. (Bonhöffer 1894: 95; 1911: 304 n. 1; Schmitz 1923: 23; Vollenweider 1989: 94; Downing 1998: 66–7, 281 n. 28) I have to add that Bonhöffer (1894: 96) has a different understanding on Epictetus’ general view on state laws: one can accept the laws as far as the laws are based on right philosophy. 47. (Starr 1949: 27–8)

90

Paul and Epictetus on Law

of justice (Disc. 2.1.21–25). How far one is obliged to obey the state laws is a question that is left to those who have studied philosophy to decide. The interlocutor assumed that philosophical principles ‘make men despise the laws’, and he was right. Epictetus’ sophisms only veil the contradiction between divine law and state laws.

5.2.3. Epictetus: Open Contradiction between State Laws and Philosophy In Disc. 4.3 the clash between state laws and philosophical laws is plain. (10) I should not lay claim to what is not my own, not body, or property, or office, or reputation – nothing, in short; nor does God wish me to lay claim to them. Had He so desired He would have made them good for me. But as it is, He has not so made them; therefore I cannot transgress any of His commands (  ). (11) Guard your own good in everything you do; and for the rest be content to take simply what has been given you, in so far as you can make a rational use of it. If you do not, you will have bad luck and no good luck, you will be hampered and hindered. (12) These are the laws that have been sent thence, these are the ordinances; it is of these you ought to become an interpreter, to these you ought to subject yourself, not the laws of Masurius and Cassius. (                   ) (Disc. 4.3.10–12; transl. revised).

There is an open contradiction between God’s laws and the laws of two famous jurists of the first century ce. In fact, the contradiction is between the laws of the state and the laws of God. The genitives    do not imply any private ‘laws’ in the same way that, for example, ‘Titian and Apuleian laws’ (Titias et Apuleias leges) (Cicero, Leg. 2.14) do not. In the latter cases the paternity of a bill is implied; in the former cases the paternity of interpretations of laws. The interpretation helps to understand the interpreted matter itself (Disc. 1.17.15–18), in this case the state laws. The expression ‘the laws of Masurius and Cassius’ thus denotes the state laws as they should be understood according to these two jurists. Massurius (Masurius) Sabinus was the leader of Sabiniani, an influential law school in Rome. According to Athenaeus, Massurius was not bad as ‘an interpreter of laws’ ( ) (Deipn. 14.623e). Gaius Cassius Longinus was Massurius’ pupil and became the head of the school after him. Both interpreted the old republican laws in the new political situation that began with the empire.48 The teaching of the law schools had a philosophical colouring, usually Stoic, but it was superficial.49 Understandably, such teaching seemed shoddy to Epictetus. He required a radical change of foundation from interpretations of the state law to that of God’s law. 48. (Kodrębski 1976: 190–6) 49. (Pohlenz 1948: 263–4, 359; Kodrębski 1976: 182, 196; Colish 1985: 341–89)



5.   Difficulties with Law

91

In sections 10–11 Epictetus refers to two laws which we have encountered in earlier analyses. The main part of the sections deals with the law that is the core of Epictetus’ philosophy, that is, his theory of value (see Chapter 2), according to which all externals are indifferent while only judgements are good or bad. One should guard one’s good, that is, one’s correct judgements, and make use of externals as far as possible. Disobedience will be punished by suffering (Chapter 3). These laws are Epictetus’ alternative to juridic interpretations of proprietary rights and punishments, which were also lemmas in the law schools.50 Unlike the state laws, Epictetus’ alternative rests on a philosophical foundation. Epictetus bolsters up the authority of God’s laws by saying that they ‘have been sent thence’ as though there were a divine reality distinct from this world.51 The aura of a divine revelation makes the interpretation of state laws a trivial job in comparison. Who would quibble over the details of state law when God has revealed his laws? In fact, however, the distinction between divine and earthly reality runs against Epictetus’ own views. Usually he says that God permeates this world, and the divine law is the law of this earthly reality! Does Epictetus contradict himself in speaking about divine revelation? According to some Stoic theories God is most purely present in the aether,52 and sometimes Epictetus says that God is ‘above’ (Disc. 1.13.3; 1.30.1). Stoic theology is not straightforwardly pantheistic, theistic or polytheistic. It has elements of all of them,53 and this is also true of Epictetus’ thought.54 He can unite natural and revelatory views of the divine law by representing a human being as a child of God who has inherited God’s commands within himself or herself. ‘What commands, then, did you bring when you came thence (), what kind of an order? Guard by every means that which is your own, but do not grasp at that which is another’s’ (Disc. 1.25.4). This passage calls to mind Plato’s view on the pre-existence of the soul and his so-called anamnesis theory.55 That is why the passage is difficult from a Stoic point of view. There is, however, no problem with the idea of revelation, because the knowledge of God’s laws is inherited in human nature. But what we find in Disc. 4.3.12 is quite the contrary, since there is no indication of any transmission through human nature. What God sends are not human beings with inherent laws, but the laws alone. 50. Liebs (1976: 243–75) gives some examples of juridic discussions. 51. (Bonhöffer 1911: 155) 52. (SVF 1.154 Zenon; SVF 1.530, 532, 534 Cleanthes; SVF 2.634, 1064, 1077; Pohlenz 1948: 95–6; Engberg-Pedersen 2006b: 103–4) It is, however, not clear what the exact relationship is between the elements and God’s substance (Bonhöffer 1894: 244–5; Sandbach 1989: 73–4). 53. (Algra 2003: 165–70) 54. (Bonhöffer 1894: 82; 1911: 342; 1912: 283; Long 2002: 142–7) 55. (Dobbin 1998: 206; cf. Gulin 1926: 44 and Dobbin 1998: 125 on Disc. 1.9.13, 16)

92

Paul and Epictetus on Law

Epictetus flirts here with a revelatory theology similar to that of Plato, who opens his Laws with a discussion of the revelatory origins of the Cretan and Spartan legislation (Leg. 624a–b; cf. Min. 320b–321b). In Laws, revelatory undertones characterize the whole description of the legislation.56 Like Plato, Epictetus uses the rhetoric of divine revelation in order to give authority to his philosophical doctrines. Nevertheless, there is no need to assume that Epi­ ctetus really thought divine revelation originates from another reality. The laws he introduces contain his standard philosophy, based on nature, as usual. The revelatory aura is there not to define the origin of the laws, but to emphasize the importance of the philosophy. What is more problematic is the contradiction between the state laws and the divine laws. It would be understandable if Epictetus emphasized the importance of the philosophical principles and the indifference of the state laws. One would expect him to present the state laws as externals which should be used within the limits of the philosophical principles. But this is not the case in the present passage. It denies the worth of state laws altogether, claiming one should not subject oneself () to the state laws. This is squarely opposed to his claim that good citizens have subordinated () their wills to the state laws (Disc. 1.12.7). Epictetus’ attitude towards the state laws varies between these polar opposites.

5.2.4. Paul on the State and State Laws There is no explicit saying on state law in Rom. 13.1-7, but what Paul says here of obedience to the state also goes for state laws. Moreover, Paul speaks about God’s ordinance ( ) in the same passage (v. 2), and he speaks immediately after the passage about love as the core of the Torah (Rom. 13.8-10). We can sketch the relationship Paul posited between state law and divine law. Ernst Barnikol has claimed that a devout Stoic would gladly agree with Rom. 13.1-7.57 F. Gerald Downing has recently followed Barnikol after comparing Paul and some Greco-Roman authors, especially Epictetus. Downing claims that in Rom. 13.1-7, Paul’s ‘clearly Stoic-colored leanings are displayed’.58 We will consider Barnikol’s and Downing’s claim in light of the comparison between Paul and Epictetus. Paul speaks in a very general way. The official terms he uses do not express any specific social system but create a general connection to Roman society.59 56. (Kaiser 2003: 63–80) 57. (Barnikol 1961: 73) 58. (Downing 1998: 280; cf. 74, 83) 59. The relationship of Paul’s style to the official parlance is analysed by Strobel (1956; 1964). Possibly Strobel goes too far, but his critics (Friedrich, Pöhlmann and Stuhlmacher 1976) go to the other extreme by claiming that Paul’s passage can be understood in a purely Jewish context. Yet the sharp distinction between ‘Jewish’ and ‘Greco-Roman’ is problematic. For example, Philo clearly belongs to both categories. Cullmann (1956: 47–50, 67–80) thinks that Paul refers to



5.   Difficulties with Law

93

There is no mention of any state offices like emperor or governor (cf. 1 Pet. 2.13–17), or any hint at republic or empire. Paul’s words fit any social system of power, and power is the only thing defining society: there are rulers and subjects.60 This system based on power is said to be God’s ordinance ( ) which is an immutable existing reality. State law and ethical requirements become real only when they are fulfilled by the people, but God’s ordinance in Rom. 13.2 forms an unavoidable power structure among the people, a structure almost comparable to creation. Because power is based on God, resistance to power is resistance to God. God is on the side of power, and power is the hallmark of divine appointment. This is an echo of theories of God’s law discussed in Chapter 4: the stronger will always prevail over the weaker. This ancient view was variably adopted by Epictetus and in Romans 14–15. Strikingly, Epictetus formulates the law of the stronger like Paul formulates his opening words, in the imperative of the third person. Both state a necessity: God’s law and God’s ordinance steer concrete reality. It is interesting that political theology based on the law of the stronger is also applied by Josephus when he recounts his activity during the siege of Jerusalem. He advised Jerusalem to surrender. Fortune, indeed, had from all quarters passed over to them, and God who went the round of the nations, bringing to each in turn the rod of empire, now rested over Italy. There was, in fact, an established law (), as supreme among brutes as among men, ‘Yield to the stronger’ and ‘The mastery is for those pre-eminent in arms’ (Josephus, Bell. 5.367; transl. Thackeray LCL. Cf. Thucydides, Hist. 5.105).

Paul is in line with Josephus. Both assume a constant power structure although the people in power change. According to Josephus, Romans rule ‘now’ to be later replaced by others. Paul does not specify the authorities, but assumes the divine appointment of the present authorities (  ). His words are open to the interpretation that those in power are different people at different times while the power structure remains unaltered. The belief in the divine appointment of kings was deeply rooted in Jewish tradition.61 For example, Saul and David were appointed by God (1 Sam. 9; 16). Paul and Josephus were heirs to this tradition, but they were not traditionalists. They modified their heritage. David’s case shows that God’s appointment did apocalyptic angelic powers (   ; cf. Col. 1.16), but most scholars disagree. Recent commentators do not mention the angelic interpretation (Haacker 1999: 261–70) or pass over it quickly (Moo 1996: 795–6). For earlier reactions to Cullmann’s thesis, see Riekkinen (1980: 146–70). 60. (Käsemann 1964: 214–15) Cancik (1981: 62) understands the divine origin of power and social hierarchy to not correspond to the republic. Yet there were also exercises of power in republics which were thought to be based on divinity, as Cancik (1981: 59–60) himself says. 61. On this aspect of the Jewish background, see, e.g., Friedrich, Pöhlmann and Stuhlmacher (1976: 145–6) and Riekkinen (1980: 54–7).

94

Paul and Epictetus on Law

not necessarily mean any change in the social facts: Saul remained the actual king long after Samuel had anointed David. Josephus and Paul, in contrast, assume straightforwardly that God’s will is seen in the social facts. They assume that power as a social fact is the hallmark of God’s will. Paul’s theology of power requires loyalty to anyone in power. Since the Romans held power during Paul’s lifetime, he required loyalty to them. If we compare Paul’s views with those of Epictetus, we discover a remarkable correspondence. Epictetus says, ‘I must always obey the law in every particular’ (Disc. 3.24.107). The reason for his loyalty is clear: he understood the state, laws and authorities as an unavoidable fact given by God. In another passage Epictetus says that a good and excellent man ‘subordinates’ ( ) his will to God like good citizens are subject to the state law (Disc. 1.12.7). Downing refers to these passages in Epictetus when he claims that Rom. 13.1-7 is coloured by Stoicism. If we add that a reference to conscience as a source of moral reasoning (v. 5) is similar to the Stoic reasoning,62 we are close to Barnikol’s view that a devout Stoic would agree with Rom. 13.1-7. This conclusion is right so long as we compare Paul’s view to Epictetus’ sayings on the state law as an external thing. The picture changes radically when we look at Paul’s and Epictetus’ views on state violence. In Disc. 3.24.113–114, it becomes clear that the punishments executed by state authorities are given by God. The thought resembles that of Paul, who says that the state authorities execute punishments as servants of God. Then, however, the ways part. Epictetus denies that God punishes because of his wrath. Paul seems to lean the other way. Since God is on the side of authorities, the wrath and the vengeance exhibited by authorities is in accordance with God’s will. The thought resembles the belief that God has delegated to authorities the display of his wrath and vengeance. This thought becomes clearer when we look at the end of Romans 12: ‘Beloved, never avenge () yourselves, but leave room for the wrath of God ( ); for it is written, “Vengeance () is mine, I will repay, says the Lord” ’(Rom. 12.19). There is, however, no logical necessity which requires the identification of the wrath and vengeance of God with vengeance on the part of the authorities. Ernst Käsemann rightly notes that the outline in Paul’s paraenesis is often quite free, and that Rom. 13.1-7 is not closely related to other themes in the context.63 Käsemann, of course, does not mean that there is no relationship to the context, but that this relationship is more associative than logical. When analysing Rom. 13.1-7 in its context, we should be more sensitive to impressions than to logical necessities. 62. (Engberg-Pedersen 2000: 271–2) 63. (Käsemann 1964: 207) Possibly the transition is not abrupt at all, as Engberg-Pedersen has recently proposed (Engberg-Pedersen 2006a: 168).



5.   Difficulties with Law

95

The description of wrath and vengeance in Rom. 13.3-4 is associated with God’s eschatological judgement in Rom. 12.19.64 They are similar, but not identical. Final judgement seems to be mentioned also just before Rom. 13.3-4 in the phrase ‘those who resist will incur judgement ( ) (13.2)’. The expression   fits most naturally with eschatological judgement,65 which is something different from civil punishments. The judgement described in Rom. 13.2 is inescapable, while the authorities only cause fear of punishment among the evil-doers. Paul has clearly noted that the authorities do not catch every evil-doer, but that the evil-doers must always live in fear of punishment.66 Again, God’s judgement in 13.2 is associated with the judgement of the authorities, but the two judgements are not identical.67 Wrath and vengeance on the part of the authorities are not God’s wrath and vengeance, but they have similarities. This is what Epictetus explicitly denies. Generally speaking, Paul’s theology of power leads to positive attitudes towards terror-based government. Just note the words Paul uses: fear (), sword (), wrath (), avenger () – all with positive overtones. Paul’s words mirror a social reality which was far from the ideal harmony of Pax Romana. Roman order was a cause of serious unrest, as has recently been noted, for example, by Richard A. Horsley.68 Paul is uncritically on the side of those in power. We may ask if Paul really meant what he said in Rom. 13.1-7. What would he say a couple of years later, during Nero’s persecution (Tacitus, Ann. 15.44)? Did he think that the sword of the authorities punishes wrongdoers when the sword – as the legend goes – beheaded him? We do not know. What we do know are the words in Rom. 13.1-7. Horsley and his companions think that we can find Paul’s critical attitude towards the empire if the gospel he proclaimed is read in the imperial context.69 Paul really had an alternative content for such designations of emperors like ‘son of God’ and ‘Savior’70 – just to pick up a few examples that scholars have taken as showing his anti-imperial stance. But these words are not aimed at opposing the Roman imperial order if Paul was honest when dictating Rom. 13.71 64. The future tense () refers quite understandably to the last judgement. Barrett (1957: 242), however, takes it that the authorities put God’s wrath into effect. 65. The expression is a hapax legomenon in Paul, but in the rest of the New Testament it refers to the last judgement (Mt. 23.14; Mk 12.40; Lk 20.47; Jas 3.1). 66. This is also the reason why Paul’s explanations in Rom. 13.3-4 are not grounds for the judgement (13.2) despite the word  in Rom. 13.3. It is possible that  denotes the second ground for the general command ‘let every person …’ in 13.1. The first ground (13.1-2) begins just after the command (Stein 1989: 332–3). 67. Cf. Barrett (1957: 245) and Riekkinen (1980: 206–7). 68. (Horsley 2004) 69. See the articles in the compilation by Horsley (ed.) (2004). 70. (Smith 2004: 54) 71. (Cf. Klauck 2003: 329)

96

Paul and Epictetus on Law

For example, Luke–Acts begins with the hymns of Mary (Lk. 1.46-55) and of Zechariah (Lk. 1.67-79) in which it is possible to hear national overtones, such as in the phrases ‘he has brought down the powerful from their thrones’ and ‘he has raised up a mighty saviour for us in the house of his servant David’ (Lk. 1.52 and 1.69). Then Luke continues with the birth of Jesus, which can be seen as a variant of imperial legends (Virgil, Ecl. 4; Suetonius, Aug. 2.94). Luke 1–2, however, is not meant to be a political proclamation against authorities.72 The same holds with Paul. I see no reason to understand Paul’s gospel as being anti-imperial though he used words known in the imperial propaganda. When we deal with Paul’s view on the authorities our primary source must be the passage that openly speaks of the state. The terror regime which Paul approves motivates people by negative means: do what is commanded in order to avoid death and pain! Paul mentions only in passing that the authorities also use a positive spur, approval (v. 3), and he forgets this immediately. There is only the negative trait, wrath, mentioned in the summary (v. 5), which also includes a new reason for loyalty, the requirement of conscience. Yet, it is Paul – not the authorities – who invokes conscience, and only as an additional point (    ). The authorities, as described by Paul, only use the system of the stick and the carrot, and the former prevails. The apostle accepts this system without reservations. Paul’s approval of an imperial terror regime opposes Epictetus’ views. Epictetus argued that one can be fearless in the middle of the punishments that are executed by the state authorities (Disc. 4.7). He says that one has to please God rather than any of the authorities (  ). Power ( ) and armed guards (   ) amount to nothing (Disc. 1.30.1, 6–7). Both accept the law of the stronger, but only Paul assumes that the physically weaker have the moral burden to obey the stronger. Epictetus admits that the stronger prevail over the weaker, but qualifies this distinction by saying that the physically stronger are not always also morally stronger. One can be morally stronger even if crushed by the violent masses, and one can – and must – disobey immoral power.73 Epictetus explicitly questions the idea we find in Paul that violent authorities are upright and worthy of respect. Epictetus could never accept the system of the stick and the carrot being used by the state, and naturally so. The core of his philosophy is a theory which does not ascribe any value to violent punishments or to approval on the part of the authorities. Such things are indifferent externals; in a word, nothing. This is why there is no need to fear punishments or to gain approval. Epictetus’ view is squarely opposite to Paul’s, in which it is held that one must () obey authorities because of their wrath (13.5).74 72. (Räisänen 2001: 63–4) 73. See Chapter 4. 74. Compulsion () can be understood in several ways (Aristotle, Met. 1015a–b), and Paul speaks of it in double sense: (1) a compulsion independent of human action, and (2) an



5.   Difficulties with Law

97

Engberg-Pedersen rightly notes that duties to the state are not so important to Paul as is the life in the Christian group. Consequently, Engberg-Pedersen reads Paul along Stoic lines: duties to the state are something external which must be fulfilled but which do not really matter. What is truly important is life in loving relationship with other Christians.75 Engberg-Pedersen’s notion of Paul’s community-centred thinking is significant, but Paul’s ethics based on fear makes the Stoic reading unlikely. In accepting the avoidance of fear as a ground for obedience, Paul is closer to Epicurus (Diogenes Laertius 10.151) than to the Stoics. Paul’s community-centred thinking also points to the Epicureans rather than to the Stoics. As to fear and violence in Paul and in Epictetus, we should not paint a black and white picture. Epictetus admitted in passing that kings and tyrants use violence to punish those who do wrong. Thus, he does not completely reject the idea of violence as a device by means to reign, though the power ( ) of an ideal Cynic is much better. The power of a Cynic is based on pure conscience (Disc. 3.22.94). On the other hand, Paul does not base obedience only on fear or approval, but also on conscience, which points to consideration.76 There is some overlap between Epictetus and Paul in discussing the means to reign, but the main lines of their views are clearly in opposition. When we move to the following passage in Romans (13.8-10), we get the impression that the authorities enforce what the Torah requires. Paul says that the core of the Torah is the command to love one’s neighbour (Lev. 19.18) and he clarifies that ‘love does no wrong to a neighbor’ (Rom. 13.10; italics mine). This reminds one of what was said just before: ‘For rulers are not a terror to good conduct, but to bad … But if you do what is wrong, you should be afraid, for the authority does not bear the sword in vain! It is the servant of God to execute wrath on the wrongdoer’ (Rom. 13.3-4; italics mine). Ulrich Wilckens notes that good, bad, and love are themes that also occur before Romans 13 (Rom. 12.9, 17, 21). As the passage on the state authorities is surrounded by these themes, it is natural to understand good and bad in a similar vein.77 Good and bad have an associatively similar meaning throughout Romans 12–13, just as God’s vengeance and that of the authorities were similar by association. One cannot avoid the impression that the authorities enforce people’s adherence to the good the Torah requires.78 Paul ascribes the same content to the ethical standards of the Torah and to those of the state.79 unavoidable ethical requirement. The former sense is connected with wrath while the latter is connected with conscience. Cf. Haacker (1999: 267). 75. (Engberg-Pedersen 2006a) 76. (Friedrich, Pöhlmann and Stuhlmacher 1976: 164; Eckstein 1983: 299–300; Fitzmyer 1993: 669) 77. (Wilckens 1982: 31; cf. Riekkinen 1980: 209) 78. Cf. Strobel (1956: 84), Käsemann (1973: 338) and Michel (1978: 401). 79. Engberg-Pedersen (2006a: 166) notes that Paul uses love terminology only when speaking

98

Paul and Epictetus on Law

This impression is not changed by the fact that Paul speaks about mutual love among Christians in Rom. 13.8-10. ‘Owe no one anything, except to love one another’, he admonishes his Christian readers (13.8; italics mine). This admonition for Christians does not indicate any abrupt change in the meaning of good and bad. In fact, the shift from the passage on state authorities (13.1-7) to the passage on love (13.8–10) is not abrupt. The admonitions to pay to all their due ( ) are imperatives of the second person plural (13.7). Quite naturally Paul continues in verse 8 with the imperative of the second person plural, saying ‘Owe () no one …’ The effortless shift affirms that the meaning of good and bad does not change. Paul promulgates no esoteric, inner-Christian moral codes that differ from the moral codes of authorities. The love command and the authorities demand the same good behaviour. Thus, contrary to Epictetus, for Paul the state, its laws and its authorities are not indifferent externals.80 Paul’s Christian motivation for good behaviour might have seemed somewhat esoteric to Epictetus. Love is not far from Stoic morals (see Chapter 4), but the idea of an eschatological judgement (Rom. 13.2) and salvation (Rom. 13.11) would have seemed strange to him. He might have acknowledged remote parallels in the Stoic theory of world conflagration (Disc. 3.13.4) and in the vernacular myths of judgement after death. However, the former was in the periphery of his thinking while the latter he rejected openly (Disc. 3.13.15).81 What would Epictetus have thought about the Torah as a motivation for ethics? He was well aware of religious peculiarities, say the fearlessness of the Galileans (Disc. 4.7.6), which was not of interest to him because it was not based on philosophical reasoning. Epictetus prefers a philosophical motivation. It goes without saying that Paul shows greater interest in the Jewish tradition, including the Torah. But as I showed in Chapter 4, Paul’s reference to the love command does not imply that the Torah is a binding authority for him. He selects a command that is acceptable and rhetorically useful. about Christian in-group ethics in contrast to ‘what is objectively good or bad behavior with no implication that it springs from the subjective motivation of ’. I would like to add that this does not make a difference in the content of good and bad, which Engberg-Pedersen (2000: 265; original emphasis) also notes. 80. According to Engberg-Pedersen (2006a: 170–1; following Taubes 2004: 53–4), the impending eschaton (Rom. 13.11-14) qualifies the value of earthly power in the manner of 1 Cor. 7.29-31. This would mean that the authorities and the good they require are indifferent while the good among Christians which the love command requires truly matters. I cannot see this kind of differentiation between the good in the state and the good among Christians. However, EngbergPedersen is surely right when claiming that Paul is more interested in in-group ethics than in life under the state. Thus, in practice, in-group good matters to him more than does the good in the state. This, however, does not mean any philosophical differentiation. 81. For more on Epictetus’ views on death, see Bonhöffer (1890: 65; 1894: 28; 1911: 293) and Benz (1929: 36–41).



5.   Difficulties with Law

99

In Romans 13, Paul refers to the Torah shortly after dealing with the problems between law-observant and nonobservant Christians (Rom. 14–15). In fact, Paul represents something like a ‘common ethics’ – the concept is general enough to include variations, but describes the main line. I concur here with Kari Kuula who says, ‘Christ and the Spirit bring no specific new content to Christian ethics, but rather provide power by which Christians can live righ­ teously. To live according to the norm of Christ is to live according to the commonly acknowledged virtues’.82 The motivation in Christ – or power, as Kuula puts it – is clearly present in Paul’s admonition to ‘put on the Lord Jesus Christ’ (Rom. 13.14). This would have sounded like nonsense to Epictetus. The rejection of the Torah as an ethical authority and the requirement to use one’s conscience move Paul closer to Epictetus. The one ethical motivation which both Paul and Epictetus address is the fear of violence. Yet their views on this issue are completely different. While Paul accepts violence on the part of the authorities without reservations, Epictetus rejects it strongly. We can now conclude, against Barnikol, that ‘a devout Stoic’ would certainly have disagreed with Rom. 13.1-7. Paul’s and Epictetus’ common theme is no coincidence as it was continuously discussed in the Greco-Roman world – the ancient literature provides a wealth of examples.83 Rom. 13.1-7 can be read as a part of this discussion,84 and the same can be said about Epictetus. Similarities between Epictetus and Paul are due to the fact that they participate in the more general Greco-Roman discussion on the state.85 At the same time we have to note that neither Paul nor Epictetus had any systematic political theory, say in the manner of Plato in his Republic.86 My analysis has shown that Paul was not isolated in his political thinking. He applied the law of the stronger in the political sphere and saw political implications in the love command. He reduced the Torah to a common ethics which he thought to be in harmony with the good that the state authorities and the state law require. According to Paul, the love command does not question the violent reign of a society in the same way that Epictetus’ philosophical 82. (Kuula 2003: 360–1; original emphasis) Kuula (2003: 359–60) also speaks about a division between binding and abrogated commands. As Paul himself selects the ‘binding’ commands, he has ethical criteria beyond the Torah. Thus there are in fact no binding commands but only accepted ones. 83. See, e.g., Xenophon, Mem. 1.2.41–46; Aristotle, Pol. 1324a-b; Eth. Nic. 1180a; Cicero, Off. 2.22–29; Seneca, Clem. as a whole; Marcus Aurelius, Med 9.29. See also Strobel (1964), van Unnik (1975), Riekkinen (1980: 60–5) and Downing (1998: 58–70). 84. (Cancik 1981: 60; cf. Betz 1994: 117) 85. Note especially the technical use of  in Stoic political texts (Erskine 1990: 48–51, 202–3). 86. (Greeven 1935: 27) Early Stoics, like Zeno and Chrysippus, had their political theories (Pohlenz 1948: 131–41; Erskine 1990).

100

Paul and Epictetus on Law

laws do. Paul accommodated the Torah to a political reality that was questioned by the Stoics. The comparison between Paul and Epictetus shows that their political thinking has different profiles. Yet the comparison has also shown that Paul’s thinking has strong links to Greco-Roman philosophy. State laws, God’s ordinance, and the Torah have political and philosophical links in Paul’s thought. This side of the Pauline law, which has been dwarfed by the traditional approaches, becomes visible through a philosophical approach.

Chapter 6 The Anthropology and Psychology of Transgression 6.1. Moral Contradictions and Anthropological Dichotomy in Epictetus In Romans 7, Paul wrestles with his understanding of the Torah. He represents the famous ‘I’ whose moral contradiction between good will and base outcome is manifested in a split anthropology. In this section, I will show links between moral contradiction and anthropological dichotomy in Epictetus. I will also present how Epictetus coupled law with these issues. In section 6.2, I will show that Paul’s thinking is more reminiscent of Stoic theories than Platonic ones.

6.1.1. The Double Contradiction for the Uneducated

Epictetus thinks that a discrepancy between will and reality is the root of all unhappiness. The term ‘will’ does not imply any independent faculty of will. Such a faculty is a later invention in western philosophy.1 The following analysis shows that for Epictetus the will is not independent but closely tied up with intellectual understanding. This becomes clear in Disc. 2.17, which is one of the passages dealing with the discrepancy between will and reality. (17) Do you at this moment desire what is possible in general and what is possible for you in particular? If so, why are you hampered? Why are you troubled? Are you not at this moment trying to escape what is inevitable? If so, why do you fall into any trouble, why are you unfortunate? Why is it that when you want something it does not happen, and when you do not want it, it does happen? (18) For this is the strongest proof of trouble and misfortune. I want something, and it does not happen; and what creature is more wretched than I? I do not want something, and it does happen; and what creature is more wretched than I? (                   ) (Disc. 2.17.17–18)

‘You’ in the beginning of the passage is a rhetorical device without any fixed interlocutor. In section 13 Epictetus uses ‘we’, but changes the grammatical person without any indication of an interlocutor. The only reason for ‘you’ seems to be its greater personal effect. He changes the grammatical person again in section 18 without any indication that he is speaking especially about 1. (Dihle 1982)

Paul and Epictetus on Law

102

himself. The discrepancy of the ‘I’ is clearly a general one: wretched are all those whose will contradicts reality. The general character of the ‘I’ is proved by what follows. Epictetus gives Medea as an example of the discrepancy between will and reality (    …). Medea paradigmatically illustrates the situation of the generalized ‘I’ who wants something which cannot happen. Though Jason ditched Medea she still wanted to have him as a husband. Medea’s case proves the general truth of the wretched life that results from the discrepancy between reality and hopes. In Epictetus’ analysis Medea’s basic problem is lack of knowledge.2 (21) For she did not know (  ) where the power lies to do what we wish – that we cannot get this from outside ourselves, nor by disturbing and deranging things. (22) Give up wanting to keep your husband, and nothing of what you want fails to happen. Give up wanting him to live with you at any cost. Give up wanting to remain in Corinth, and, in a word, give up wanting anything but what God wants. And who will prevent you, who will compel you? No one, any more than anyone prevents or compels Zeus (Disc. 2.17.21–22).

Epictetus’ advice may sound hard, but it corresponds to the core of his philosophy: external things are neither good nor bad but indifferent. If God gives external things, we should live with them, but we should also be ready to give them away without complaint. This is the knowledge everyone should have in order to lead a serene life. Medea did not know that, and therefore she suffered with the conflict between reality and will. Epictetus returns to the theme of philosophical knowledge in Disc. 2.13. He describes a musician who is anxious because of the possibly negative reaction of the audience. Epictetus compares the musician with a man who does not know the laws of his city. (5) Now then, I cannot say that the man is not a citharoede, when I see anyone in a state of fear, but I can say something else of him, and, indeed, not one thing only, but a number of things. (6) And first of all, I call him a stranger and say: This man does not know () where in the world he is, but though he has been living here so long a time, he is ignorant of the laws of the city (    ) and its customs, what he is allowed to do and what he is not allowed to do. Nay more, he has never even called in a lawyer () to tell him and explain to him what are the usages conformable with law ( ); (7) yet, he does not write a will without knowing () how he ought to write it or else calling in an expert ( ), nor does he just casually affix his seal to a bond or give a written guarantee; but without the services of a lawyer () he exercises desire and aversion and choice and design and purpose. (8) How do I mean ‘without the services of a lawyer ()’? Why, he does not know () that he is wishing for things that are not vouchsafed him, and wishing to avoid the inevitable, and he does not know () either what is his own or what is another’s. Did he but know (), he would never feel hindered, never constrained, would not be anxious (Disc. 2.13.5–8).

2. (Stellwag 1933: 231)



6.   The Anthropology and Psychology of Transgression

103

The anxious musician’s problem is a lack of knowledge. The musician does not know the laws of the cosmopolis, and he should have consulted an expert or a lawyer. Epictetus does not say explicitly who the experts and lawyers are in these matters, but he obviously refers to the philosophers.3 A philosopher could explain the usages conforming with the law of the cosmopolis. Epictetus states that one should learn to exercise desire, aversion, choice, design and purpose in a right way – these are technicalities of the Stoic theory of will.4 Then he continues by saying that one should wish the right things and remember the theory of value; then one is mentally serene. Philosophical study gives the knowledge which helps one to avoid anxiousness. Anxiousness is a cognitive problem. Strangely enough, there are people who seem to prefer a life without serenity. The example of this is again Medea. Nevertheless, her anxiety is also a cognitive problem. Epictetus quotes (Disc. 1.28.7) from Euripides’ Medea two lines of Medea’s soliloquy:              Now, now, I learn what horrors I intend; But passion overmastereth sober thought? (Euripides, Med. 1078–1079; transl. Way LCL)

Epictetus’ interpretation of these lines is roughly similar to that of Chrysippus (SVF 2.906; 3.473 Chrysippus), who wrote a whole book on Euripides’ Medea.5 Since it was full of quotations, it was called Chrysippus’ Medea (Diogenes Laertius 7.180). Epictetus’ Chrysippean interpretation rested on Stoic psychology, according to which the human soul is always unified. While Plato posited three parts of the soul (Resp. 434d–441c; Phaedr. 253c–256d), and Aristotle two (Eth. Nic. 1102a–1103a), Chrysippus found only one, namely the rational part.6 Epictetus followed Chrysippus in his psychology.7 Thus, in Epictetus’ interpretation Medea had no competing impulses from different parts of her soul, but had two choices which she rationally pondered in her unified soul.8 Epictetus maintains that Medea’s ‘passion’ means ‘the taking of vengeance on her husband’ while ‘sober thoughts’ means ‘the saving of her children’. 3. (Cf. Stowers 1988: 77 n. b.) 4. For a description of the technicalities, see Bonhöffer (1890: 233–59). 5. On Chrysippus’ interpretation, see Gill (1983) and Joyce (1995). 6. (Gill 1983: 138–9; Joyce 1995: 317–18) 7. (Bonhöffer 1890: 86–94; Long 2002: 163–6) 8. Galen criticized Chrysippus’ interpretation as an impossible one (De Placitis Hippo­ cratis et Platonis 3.3.13–22). Euripides’ lines are philosophically obscure. They were varied in poetry (Ovid, Met. 7.17–21; Seneca, Med. 938–44) and debated in antiquity. Cf. Hommel (1984: 159–63), Rickert (1987), Theissen (1987: 212–19), Vollenweider (1989: 350), Stowers (1994: 260–4), Dillon (1997: 212–16) and Dobbin (1998: 221–3).

104

Paul and Epictetus on Law

There were two possible choices, and she regarded passion as the more profitable choice (Disc. 1.28.7).9 Epictetus regards her choice as a rational one, but this does not mean that he approves of her decision. He fully agrees with the interlocutor – imaginary or not – who supposes that Medea was deceived. (8) ‘Yes, but she is deceived ()’. Show her clearly that she is deceived (), and she will not do it; but so long as you do not show it, what else has she to follow but that which appears to her to be true? Nothing. (9) Why, then, are you angry with her, because the poor woman has gone astray (  ) in the greatest matters, and has been transformed from a human being into a viper? Why do you not, if anything, rather pity () her? As we pity the blind and the halt, why do we not pity () those who have been made blind and halt in their governing faculties? (Disc. 1.28.8–9)

Medea’s choice was rational, but it was based on inappropriate information. Epictetus means that Medea was uninformed of the right way of wanting. The theme of mental deception appears often in Epictetus. Once he admonishes his listeners to think that a brigand and an adulterer have gone astray and have been deceived (  ) (Disc. 1.18.6). In another passage he is more general: the one who errs () – whatever the error is – is deceived () (Disc. 4.1.2–3). Also the end of the passage on Medea (Disc. 1.28.9) points in the direction that she is an example of a general phenomenon, and we should pity all those who are deceived like Medea. The admonition to pity is surprising. Pity is a vice in the Stoic philosophy (cf. Chapter 3 above). Yet Epictetus is not inconsistent. He says that it is better to pity than to feel angry. What is implied is that there is also a best alternative: ‘If you must needs be affected in a way that is contrary to nature at the misfortunes of another, pity him rather, but do not hate him’ (Disc. 1.18.9). Pity is better than hate, but it is best not to be affected at all. Pity is contrary to nature, but relatively harmless.10 Epictetus subscribes to eudaimonism: all seek happiness.11 Medea and her ilk, however, are deceived, and they do not seek happiness in the right place. They do not change their wills as they should, but they try to change reality, which is impossible. This wrong activity does not help them to reach happiness, but maintains the painful discrepancy between will and reality. Thus the uneducated do something that does not promote their ultimate goal, happiness. In fact, they are unconsciously doing what they do not will. The conscious contradiction between will and reality is constant because of the unconscious contradiction between will and deeds. Epictetus describes this unconscious contradiction in Disc. 2.26. 9. (Long 2002: 76–7) 10. (Dobbin 1998: 170, 224) 11. (Long 2002: 189–96)

6.   The Anthropology and Psychology of Transgression



105

(1)                     (2)                      (1) Every error involves a contradiction. For since he who is in error does not wish to err, but be right, it is clear that he is not doing what he wishes. (2) For what does the thief wish to achieve? His own interest. Therefore, if thievery is against his interest, he is not doing what he wishes (Disc. 2.26.1–2).

No one can think that something is the most profitable and yet not choose it (Disc. 1.28.9; 2.22.15–16);12 neither Medea (Disc. 1.28.7) nor the thief in the passage mentioned above. The thief, like Medea, is deceived, because thievery is not profitable (Disc. 1.29.21) and the thief does not achieve his interest by thieving. Thus he is unconsciously not doing what he wishes. This goes for every error: all errors are unconscious. Moreover, Epictetus argues that the one who errs () should be informed that ‘he is not doing what he wishes, and is doing what he does not wish’ (        ) (Disc. 2.26.4). The basis of vice is a lack of knowledge, while virtue is based on knowledge. Epictetus’ intellectualism is strongly rooted in the Socratic tradition,13 and it had also been expressed by the earlier Stoics, like Chrysippus and Cleanthes. In his famous Hymn to Zeus (SVF 1.537) Cleanthes says that God’s everlasting reason governs the world, but morally wicked persons do not pay heed to it; they do not see God’s universal law. The wicked seek a good life. They feel a conscious contradiction between will and reality, and try to solve it. Being uneducated they do not know God’s law. Therefore they do something that promotes just the opposite.14 Their will and deeds are unconsciously contradictory. Thus the uneducated live in a double contradiction. The discrepancy between will and reality is conscious while the discrepancy between will and deeds is unconscious. Unconscious erring is also connected with unconscious lack of freedom. Epictetus says that ‘he is free who lives as he wills’. As no one wants to err (), erring makes one unfree. No one wants to be deceived (), impetuous, unjust, unrestrained, peevish or abject. ‘Therefore, there is no bad man who lives as he wills, and accordingly no bad man is free’ (Disc. 4.1.1–4). Those who err are slaves, though they do not acknowledge their condition but claim ‘my father was free, my mother was free; no one has a deed of sale for me’ (Disc. 4.1.8). Because of their lack of instruction, they have confused freedom as a social and as a moral state.15

12. 13. 14. 15.

(Bonhöffer 1894: 4–5; Long 2002: 198–201) (Long 2002: 70–5) See Thom’s (2005: 112–42) detailed commentary on the Hymn. Note how closely Epictetus’ thought (cf. also Disc. 2.1.21–25, below) is reminiscent of

106

Paul and Epictetus on Law

The interconnection between knowledge, virtue and freedom becomes clear in Disc. 2.1.21–25, which has the flavour of a Socratic dialogue.16 It is best to understand the passage as an imaginary discussion between Socrates and the legislative ekklēsia in Athens.17 (21) What, then, is the fruit of these [philosophical] doctrines? Precisely that which must needs be both the fairest and the most becoming for those who are being truly educated – tranquillity, fearlessness, freedom. (22) For on these matters we should not trust the common people, who say, ‘Only the free can be educated’, but rather the philosophers, who say, ‘Only the educated are free’. (23) – How is that? – Thus: Is freedom anything but the right to live as we wish?18 ‘Nothing else’. Tell me, then, O men, do you wish to live in error ()? ‘We do not’. Well, no one who lives in error is free (    ). (24) Do you wish to live in fear, in sorrow, in turmoil? ‘By no means’. Well then, no man who is in fear, or sorrow, or turmoil, is free, but whoever is rid of sorrows and fears and turmoils, this is by the self-same course rid also of slavery ( ). (25) How, then, shall we any longer trust you, O dearest lawgivers (  )? Do we allow none but the free to get an education? For the philosophers say, ‘We do not allow any but the educated to be free’; that is, God does not allow it (Disc. 2.1.21–25; transl. revised).

As Oldfather notes, there is a play ‘on the double meaning of free, i.e., in a social and in a moral sense’.19 Common people allow education only to the free, clearly thinking about freedom as a social status. We may say that ‘Socrates’ misses the point of the common people as he analyses freedom not in a social but in a moral, i.e.  philosophical, sense: freedom can be attained only through education. ‘Socrates’ clearly misunderstands what the common people are saying. We may expect that ‘Socrates’ would have understood the difference between two types of slavery as the Stoics classified different kinds of slavery.20 Epictetus, however, is not ridiculing ‘Socrates’ and his misunderstanding. Just to the contrary, Epictetus ridicules the common people as those whose Jn 8.32–38. For a short comparison, see Bonhöffer (1911: 306–7) and Boring, Berger and Colpe (1995: 282). 16. Cf. Hijmans (1959: 36) and Long (2002: 107–8). Epictetus referred to Socrates previously (section 15). 17. The legislative ekklēsia is implied by ‘Socrates’ when he addresses his companions as ‘common people’ ( ), ‘people’ () and ‘lawgivers’ (). Cf. Schweighäuser (1799b: 357). 18. Oldfather translates ‘Thus: At this time () is freedom …’ and explains  emphatically as a reference to Epictetus’ own days because freedom was understood differently in earlier times (Oldfather 1995: 219 n. 2). I cannot believe that Epictetus would have seen freedom as a culturally conditioned concept. To my mind  is nothing but an expletive, and the question is about the general definition of freedom. 19. (Oldfather 1995: 219 n. 2) 20. (Erskine 1990: 43–58)



6.   The Anthropology and Psychology of Transgression

107

social understanding of freedom is false. In an imaginary discussion it is easy to overcome the whole ekklēsia with a couple of Socratic questions. ‘Socrates’ is presented as being superior because of his philosophical qualities. Epictetus clearly subscribes to Cleanthes’ poem, which claims that there are only a few wise men and that the utterances of the common people are indiscriminate (SVF 1.559).21 Epictetus also agrees with the earlier Stoics in questioning the wisdom of nonphilosophical legislation. Earlier Stoics thought that legislation should be left for the wise (SVF 3.332, 619, 622). The common people do not have the right insight into the character of freedom and their laws do not lead to liberation from mental disturbances. The most important fruit of a philosophical education is freedom (section 24), though there are three fruits mentioned in section 21.22 The uneducated do not do what they want. They want to avoid fear, sorrow and turmoil, but they cannot. Their deeds contradict their will, though unconsciously. The unconscious contradiction fences in the conscious discrepancy between the will for serenity and a reality full of mental disturbances. As the common people have no philosophical knowledge, they have no way out of this double contradiction. They are not free, but slaves of error. The educated should not be arrogant towards them, but take heed of their miserable state. I observe people, what they say, how they move, and this in no malignant spirit, nor in order to have something to censure or ridicule, but I look myself the while, to see if I too am making the same mistakes (): ‘How, then, shall I cease [to make mistakes]?’23 ‘There was a time when I too made mistakes, but now no longer, thanks be to God (         )’ (Disc. 4.4.7; transl. revised).

Epictetus expresses two thoughts which observers with the right skills can have: (1) those who are still making mistakes should think about the means for avoiding error while (2) the perfect ones should give thanks to God for their moral perfection. Both thoughts are presented in the first person singular, but both cannot refer to Epictetus’ actual state. Given that moral perfection and nonperfection are alternatives, the two ‘I’ sentences are also alternatives. Thus, the ‘I’ is certainly rhetorical and refers to the possible thoughts of anyone with right observation.

21. Epictetus’ view on the rarity of the wise (Disc. 1.3.4; 1.16.19; 1.19.7; 1.22.18; 2.1.3; Greeven 1935: 142; Sevenster 1966: 251–2) is similar to the view of the early Stoics (Bonhöffer 1894: 148; Pohlenz 1948: 157; Sandbach 1989: 44). 22. Cf. ‘the fruit of the Spirit’ which is defined by nine virtues (Gal 5.22-23). 23. The addition to the incomplete clause is palpable because of the context. Oldfather makes the same addition, but understands the clause as a question of an interlocutor which is answered in the text that follows. As the next sentence is no answer to the question, Oldfather (1985: 314 n. 4) reconstructed a lacuna after the word ‘God’. I will present a different interpretation where there is no lacuna.

108

Paul and Epictetus on Law

Epictetus counts his listeners and himself among those who are not perfect. Some sections after the quote above, Epictetus admonishes his students to live according to the philosophical doctrines ‘and thereby we would give thanks to God’ (   ) (Disc. 4.4.18; my translation). In this context, the grammatical construction cannot denote anything but an unreal case.24 In other words, Epictetus as one of the ‘we’ cannot utter the thanksgiving of the blameless. Thus, the ‘I’ giving thanks to God in Disc. 4.4.7 is not Epictetus, but a fictive ‘I’. Epictetus, in fact, admits that his deeds contradict his moral knowledge. He does wrong despite his moral knowledge. We will see in Chapter 7 why even conscious wrongdoing is possible. Now I concentrate on what I call the double contradiction: the conscious contradiction between will and reality and the unconscious contradiction between will and deeds.

6.1.2. The Double Contradiction and Anthropology The double contradiction and anthropology are intertwined in Epictetus. His anthropology presupposes a dualistic division between soul and body. Since dualism, however, can be understood in numerous ways,25 we have to take a more precise look at Epictetus’ anthropological dualism. Disc. 1.3 shows that human nature is understood as a blend in which the body is common with animals while the soul is divine. Though animals have some kind of consciousness, they have no rational capacity:26 (3) These two elements were comingled in our begetting, on the one hand the body (  ), which we have in common with the brutes, and, on the other, reason and intelligence (        ), which we have in common with the gods. Some of us incline toward the former relationship, which is unblessed by fortune and is mortal (     ), and only a few toward that which is divine and blessed (  ). (4) Since, then, it is inevitable that every man, whoever he be, should deal with each thing according to the opinion which he forms about it, these few, who think that by their birth they are called to fidelity, to self-respect, and to unerring judgement in the use of external impression, cherish no mean or ignoble thoughts about themselves, whereas the multitude do quite the opposite. (5) ‘For what am I? A miserable, paltry man’, say they, and ‘Lo, my wretched, paltry flesh!’ (     ’   ‘     ). (6) Wretched indeed, but you have also something better than your paltry flesh. Why then abandon that and cleave to this? (Disc. 1.3.3–6; transl. revised)

24. In principle, besides irrealis the imperfect of the indicative with  can denote past potentiality (‘we might have given thanks to God’) or past iterative action (‘we used to give thanks to God’). Cf. Smyth (1984: 402–3, § 1784–94). The context, however, makes the interpretation clear. 25. (Lindgård 2005: 111) 26. (Bonhöffer 1890: 76–9)



6.   The Anthropology and Psychology of Transgression

109

The rational capacity of the soul marks human beings off from the animals. I use ‘soul’ as a general appellation for a variety of Epictetus’ words that denote human rationality: ‘reason’ ( ) and ‘intelligence’ ( ) are used in the passage above while there are many other words, like ‘moral purpose’ ( ) and ‘mind’ ( ).27 Epictetus also calls the soul an inner part ( ) in the human being, a thought that probably originates with Plato (Resp. 589b).28 Epictetus, however, differed from Plato on whether there are different parts in the soul. For Epictetus, just as for the mainstream Stoics, the soul is unified. The human being ‘is not flesh, nor bones, nor sinews, but that which employs these, that which both governs the impressions of the senses and understands them’ (Disc. 4.7.32). The soul is the primary part of the human being while the body is dead (Disc. 1.3.3). ‘You are a little soul (), carrying around a corpse ()’ (Fragm. 26). Epictetus can even describe the body as fetters and an imprisonment (Disc. 1.9.11–14), a thought closely reminiscent to that expressed in Plato’s Phaedo.29 Despite the resemblance to Phaedo, Epictetus does not go so far as Plato, who thought that the soul continues its existence in freedom after death (Phaed. 67d). According to Plato, the soul can exist without the body. This is too much for Epictetus. He understood death as a disintegration of the physical elements that constitute both the soul and the body. Thus there is no personal life after death (Disc. 3.13.14–15).30 Vice versa, a human being can only exist when the elements structure the whole of the body and the soul. Thus Epictetus’ anthropology is basically holistic despite its conceptual dualism. Long aptly states why Epictetus needs such a conceptual dualism: We should take his sharp contrast between the body and the mind to be Platonic in an ethical rather than a metaphysical sense … What he wants to emphasize is a duality in our human constitution that gives us the option of deciding whether we shall be godlike (by identifying with our minds) or merely animal (by identifying with our bodies).31 27. On the different appellations, see Bonhöffer (1890: 86–121) and Dobbin (1991). 28. (Bonhöffer 1911: 115–17; Heckel 1993: 11–26; Lindgård 2005: 113–14; cf. Rist 1969: 264) Heckel (1993: 30) questions if the idea of ‘an inner human being’ is acceptable to the Stoics. We do not meet this exact phrase in Stoic works, but it was surely possible for the Stoics to accommodate such an idea, though with a different meaning than in Plato’s text. Lindgård (2005: 119) rightly states that ‘the fact that Paul talks about an “inner person” in Romans, a letter to a church he did not know so well, shows, in my opinion, that the “inner person” as a flexible but not a precise term was common’. 29. (Long 2002: 158–9) 30. (Bonhöffer 1890: 30, 65; 1894: 28; 1911: 293; Benz 1929: 36–41) Gulin (1926: 42–4) thinks that Epictetus believed in the mortality and immortality of the soul at the same time. Gulin’s assessment does not fit Epictetus’ view, but rather those of the emperor Marcus Aurelius (Med. 4.21; 7.23; 7.32), who was an admirer of Epictetus. 31. (Long 2002: 158) Note the close similarity with Sallust’s anthropology in Bell. Cat.1.2.

110

Paul and Epictetus on Law

The ethical dimension of Epictetus’ dualism is clear in Disc. 1.3.3–6, which I quoted above. As Long notes, what matters here is identification. Those who identify themselves with the body are victims of the distress that is part and parcel of the body. They bewail themselves as miserable paltry humans, they bemoan their wretched paltry flesh, and they do vicious deeds. As they identify themselves with the flesh that they have in common with brute animals, they also accomplish brutish things (Disc. 1.3.7–8). Instead, we should be fully convinced that we are ‘primarily begotten of God’ (Disc. 1.3.1). We should set our heart ‘upon changing from a man into a god’ though we are ‘in this paltry body of death’ (     ) (Disc. 2.19.27). In consequence, there is a connection between Epictetus’ anthropology and his ethics. One has to acknowledge divinity in one’s constitution and identify oneself with this essence. The multitude ( ), namely the uninstructed common people (Disc. 1.3.4), do not understand this. They are deceived into seeking peace in the well-being of the flesh, but they do not find peace as the body is always liable to unavoidable malaise. They seek peace in the wrong place. The multitude is, thus, unconsciously doing something that does not promote their will. The more they concentrate on the flesh, the more they suffer from the discrepancy between the unavoidable facts and their will. An unconscious contradiction between will and deeds causes a conscious contradiction between will and reality. The only way out is to acknowledge that there is ‘something better than your paltry flesh’ (Disc. 1.3.6). Keeping the comparison with Romans 7 in mind we should add one more component, which is law. To that end I will make some comments on Disc. 1.13 which I have already presented in dealing with social positions (Chapter 2) and love (Chapter 4). Now we are interested in the wordplay on two laws and the links with anthropology and ethics. Epictetus exhorts his listeners to refrain from anger if a slave is careless or disobedient (Disc. 1.13.2). Such forbearance is unusual. Jesus tells an anecdote of a master who cuts his slave in pieces (Mt. 24.51; Lk. 12.46). This may be hyperbole or an extreme case since slaves were not outside of all the protection of law in the ancient world.32 Nevertheless, the story was surely not developed out of nothing. For example, Epictetus thinks that the beating of slaves is a natural procedure (Disc. 3.25.9–10; cf. Seneca, Ep. 47; Lk. 12.47–48).33 In this context, we can understand the bewilderment of the interlocutor whom Epictetus addresses ironically as a slave.

Vretska (1976) comments, ‘Der dualismus Platons ist wissenschaftlich-theoretisch, der S.s moralisch-praktisch’. 32. (Manning 1989: 1526–9, 1531–3) 33. Celsus reported that Epictetus was handicapped at the hands of his master, while Suda finds the reason for his lameness (Disc. 1.8.14; 1.16.20) in rheumatism (De Epicteto Testimonia 17 and 21 in Schenkl’s editions on Epictetus; cf. Dobbin 1998: xi; Long 2002: 10).



6.   The Anthropology and Psychology of Transgression

111

(3) – How then can a man bear with such persons? – Slave, will you not bear with your own brother, who has Zeus as his progenitor and is, as it were, a son born of the same seed as yourself and of the same sowing above; (4) but if you have been stationed in a like position above others, will you forthwith set yourself up as a tyrant? Do you not remember what you are, and over whom you rule – that they are kinsmen, that they are brothers by nature, that they are the offspring of Zeus. (5) – But I have a deed of sale for them, and they have none for me. – Do you see whither you bend your gaze, that it is to the earth, that it is to the ruin, that it is to these wretched laws of the dead, and that it is not to the laws of the gods that you look? (‘                          ) (Disc. 1.13; transl. revised)

The slave and the master are equal brothers because they have the same father, Zeus. This does not mean social equality since some are ‘above others’ – note the passivum divinum Epictetus uses. Roman Stoicism accepted slavery as the will of God.34 Humankind’s divine origin, however, means the equal dignity of all human beings. The master should remember that his slave is a similar human being as himself, and the slave should be treated as such.35 ‘Govern us as rational beings’ (Disc. 3.7.33). The interlocutor, however, is not ready to accept Epictetus’ view. By mentioning the deed of sale he refers to his legal rights as a master. Naturally, the state law did not expect any equality between the slave and the master. The interlocutor means that he has a right to treat his slave even tyrannically if this happens within the limits of the state law. This is an impetus for Epictetus to speak about two kinds of laws. ‘The laws of the dead’ and ‘the laws of the gods’ are not fixed philosophical concepts, but a wordplay inspired by the interlocutor. Epictetus defines the state laws to which the interlocutor refers as ‘the laws of the dead’. This is not a moral condemnation of the state laws, but based upon Epictetus’ anthropological dualism. ‘Dead’, like ‘earth’ and ‘ruin’, refers to the body,36 and ‘the laws of the dead’ are the laws concerning the body. As ‘the laws of the gods’ are analogical to ‘the laws of the dead’, we must also explain them anthropologically. Bearing in mind Epictetus’ dualism, ‘gods’ denotes the divine souls of human beings.37 Epictetus can simply call the soul a god (Disc. 2.8.12–14).37 34. (Manning 1989: 1529–31; cf. Schmitz 1923: 23 and Guttenberger Ortwein 1999: 40) 35. (Bonhöffer 1890: 76; 1894: 96; Greeven 1935: 12–13) 36. (Bonhöffer 1890: 33; cf. Benz 1929: 63–4 and Dobbin 1998: 147) Most problematic is   (‘ruin’) that is hapax legomenon in Epictetus. Originally the word refers to a pit in Athens, but later it was employed to mean a pit in general, and, then, metaphorically, to mean ruin or perdition (Liddell and Scott 1953: ; Frisk 1960: ). The words   and  are Epictetus’ usual terms for the body. Between these two is . The location makes it clear that  also denotes the body. 37. Cf. Dobbin (1998: 147): ‘The law of god here is the law governing the city of gods and

112

Paul and Epictetus on Law

The phrase ‘the laws of the dead’ refers to the social hierarchy that is God’s will. It is, however, problematic for Epictetus to put the main focus on social reality. Social positions and all external things are basically indifferent, and one should not lose one’s tranquillity because of them. What truly matters are the judgements made by the rational soul, the god within. Epictetus exhorts the master to invest in the moral judgement he makes, in the laws of the gods, not in the indifferent externals, the laws of the dead. Thus, the comparison between the two kinds of laws is not a comparison between evil and good laws, but between morally insignificant and morally significant laws. The master has lost from sight ‘the laws of the gods’. We encounter again the intellectual basis of Epictetus’ ethics. The master is deceived into passing judgements on the wrong grounds. Possibly these errors are not due to a total lack of knowledge, for Epictetus only hints at the core of his philosophy here. The interlocutor seems to know what is hinted at, but his knowledge is not active enough to change his behaviour. As we will see in Chapter 7, knowledge should be activated by training.

6.2. Contradictions of the ‘I’: Stoicism in Romans 7 As I have indicated in the analysis of Epictetus’ texts, there was a long GrecoRoman tradition of describing the contradiction between will and reality on the one hand, and between will and deeds on the other. No doubt Paul’s passage on ‘I’ in Romans 7 also belongs to that tradition, and his teaching on law should be understood in this context. The tradition, however, was not monolithic; the differences are due to different anthropologies. In the following, I will argue that Paul’s stance was close to the Stoic stance, though his is partially coloured by his apocalyptic leanings.

6.2.1. Who is the ‘I’? First of all, we have to discuss the old puzzle in interpreting Rom. 7.7-25: to whom does ‘I’ refer? Nearly all commentators have suggested different answers, but I prefer not to review the entire scholarship here. Early studies on this issue are well discussed by Werner Georg Kümmel in his classic and influential work on the topic (1974 [1929]), and the subsequent generations have always related their views to Kümmel. Roughly speaking, there are two main opinions. Kümmel argues that the ‘I’ is an imaginary non-Christian representing the moral state of all non-Christians. Others stay more or less on the side of the old Lutheran idea of simul iustus et peccator. According to this interpretation, the I-passage refers to Paul himself men, to which, as indicated, slaves also belong’. Note that Dobbin changes the original plural (‘the laws of the gods’) to singular so that the expression fits better with Epictetus’ expressions for the divine law governing the world.



6.   The Anthropology and Psychology of Transgression

113

as an embodiment of the Christian as peccator while the textual context of the passage describes the Christian as iustus. ‘I’ occurs suddenly in Romans 7 though there is no abrupt change in the subject matter. Only the person changes abruptly. Paul speaks about ‘you’ (plural) in the beginning of verse 4, but then changes the person to ‘we’ without motivation at the end of the verse. The first person plural is also used in the two following verses. Then the person is changed to ‘I’ without any change in the theme. Paul only focuses on a problem created by his reasoning about the law and sin. The ‘I’-passage starts as an apology for the law. The previous reasoning has shown that the law is somehow involved with sin. Now Paul tries to avoid the conclusion that the law itself is sin. In fact, sin was in the ‘I’, but it was revived through the law that itself is holy, just and good (v. 12). The situation of the ‘I’ becomes more and more central while the apology for the law fades away. Law is mentioned again at the end of the ‘I’-passage (vv. 21–25), but here it illustrates the hopeless moral situation of the split ‘I’.38 After the ‘I’-passage, Paul presents a solution for the split ‘I’. Again the subject matter does not change, but the grammatical person changes. Paul speaks about ‘those who are in Jesus Christ’ (8.1), ‘you’ in the singular (8.2), and ‘us’ (8.4). The abrupt changes in the grammatical person prove that the ‘I’ does not necessarily refer to Paul as an example of Christians as peccatores. The change of grammatical person is no less a stylistic feature here than it is in Disc. 2.17.13–18. We have to find other means to identify the ‘I’. The Lutheran interpretation presumes that a Christian is righteous (iustus) and sinner (peccator) at the same time (simul). Unfortunately, the ‘I’-passage itself does not suggest simultaneousness, but a temporal sequence. In Romans 5, Paul says that sin came into the world through Adam’s transgression, but Christ’s death and resurrection has overridden it. In Romans 6, he specifies that only baptism enables freedom from the power of sin in the life of an individual. There is a clear temporal sequence between the earlier pre-Christian slavery to sin and the present Christian freedom. The same sequence of the past and the present continues at the beginning of Romans 7. There the temporal sequence becomes absolutely clear just before the I-passage: (5) While we were living in the flesh, our sinful passions (   ), aroused by the law, were at work in our members ( ) to bear fruit for death. (6) But now we are discharged from the law, dead to that which held us captive, so that we are slaves not under the old written code but in the new life of the Spirit (Rom. 7.5-6).

After this passage, it is difficult to imagine that it would be a Christian in whom sin produced ‘all kinds of covetousness ( )’ (Rom. 7.8), and in

38. Cf. Kümmel (1974: 74), Sanders (1983: 79) and Kuula (2003: 243).

114

Paul and Epictetus on Law

whom sinfulness resulted in death (Rom. 7.11, 13). It is more natural to think that the Christian is not ‘of the flesh, sold into slavery under sin’ (Rom. 7.14) and not a dwelling of sin (Rom. 7.17, 18, 20). He is surely the opposite of the one who cannot do any good (Rom. 7.15-20), whose members are influenced by the law of sin (7.23), and who is a helpless victim of death (7.24). ‘I’ as a slave of sin is not the ‘you’ who is freed from ‘the law of sin and of death’ (v. 2). ‘I’ in Romans 7 is a non-Christian if we take seriously the temporal sequence indicated in the textual context. In the light of preceding and subsequent passages, Paul dictated a soliloquy to describe the state of the non-Christians as a moral deadlock. It is true, of course, that ‘principles are expressed in a black-and-white manner’.39 While the closest textual context of the ‘I’-passage describes Christians as being totally free from the law and death, Paul says something else in other parts of Romans. Though Christians are free from the law, sin and death, there is still a possibility of falling back into the previous state of slavery (Rom. 6.12-20).40 Though Christians are free from death (Rom. 8.2), their bodies are still dead or mortal (Rom. 8.10-11). This fact, however, does not lend any support to the Christian identity of the ‘I’.41 Paul’s black-and-white delivery only accentuates the Christian/nonChristian polarity he already sees. Though Christians are not so ‘white’, that is, untouched by sin, they have one benefit in contrast to non-Christians, this being that the non-Christian ‘I’ is forced to live in his or her miserable state, whereas Christians have a choice. Christians can choose between good and evil, and avoid falling back into slavery, while the ‘I’ cannot do anything but evil. Christians will be saved in the eschatological turn (Rom. 8.11-13), but this is not possible for the ‘I’ who is subject to death (Rom. 7.10-13). The ‘I’ is thus a non-Christian, and Paul’s exaggerations make it unmistakable that this is so. Although I basically agree with Kümmel, he went too far in saying that ‘I’ does not refer to Paul’s pre-Christian past at all, but only to non-Christians generally.42 Paul himself was of course also a non-Christian before his conversion. In consequence, the ‘I’ can also denote the pre-Christian Paul, despite the fact that the scruples of the ‘I’ contradict the moral self-confidence of Paul the Pharisee (Phil. 3.4-6). If Philippians really contradicts the ‘I’-passage, the primary key for the interpretation cannot be Philippians. We should interpret the ‘I’-passage in its own textual context, and just let the contradiction stand.43 39. (Thurén 2002: 437–8) 40. This is also the idea in Gal. 5.16–17 (Kümmel 1974: 104–6; Räisänen 1987: 115) which is sometimes presented as evidence for a Christian ‘I’. 41. Some, e.g., Thurén (2002: 433–8), claim the opposite. 42. Kümmel 1974: 117–19. 43. The theory that Paul speaks about the outward fulfilling of the law in Philippians while Romans speaks about the inner disposition (e.g., Dodd 1999: 223; Gundry 2005: 262–4) is inapt as the ‘I’ does not do the law in Romans.



6.   The Anthropology and Psychology of Transgression

115

Philippians, however, raises the question of how much autobiographical material there is in the ‘I’-passage.44 Possibly not much, at least not in Rom. 7.14-25, because of the present tense used in this section. Gerd Theissen aptly notes that ‘the present tense often states what happens or can happen in general’.45 Of course, there may be some echoes of Paul’s own experience, especially in verses 7-13 as their past tense ‘is more suggestive of a particular person’.46 Even if there are any personal echoes, the ‘I’ is nonetheless paradigmatic: it illustrates one’s slavery to sin as a contrast to one’s freedom in Christ described in the context of the ‘I’-passage.47 Paul just put his ideas in the mouth of a paradigmatic non-Christian. This literary technique of speech-in-character () was well known in antiquity, as Stanley K. Stowers has shown.48 Yet an exact analogy to Paul’s ‘I’ has been lacking until now. Epictetus, however, presents such an analogy in Disc. 4.4.7. There Epictetus describes how a morally perfect person should observe the faults of other people: ‘There was a time when I too made mistakes, but now no longer, thanks be to God (     ’    ) ’ (Disc. 4.4.7; transl. revised). This short sentence meets the three criteria Theissen requires for an apt analogy to Rom. 7.7-25.49 First, there is an explicit  instead of the simple verb form. Strikingly, the ‘I’ is clearly not Epictetus who still makes mistakes as the textual context betrays; instead, the ‘I’ is fictive. Second, the sentence is unconditionally declarative, not a conditional sentence or a conditioned statement. Third, there is the past tense that individualizes. In spite of the tense, ‘I’ is no particular person but a paradigm. Similar thankful phrases crown the analogy between Paul’s and Epictetus’ ‘I’. In Paul’s case (Rom. 7.25) the thankful exclamation is surprisingly found within the misery of the ‘I’, a fact that has led some interpreters to omit the end of the verse after the exclamation.50 No manuscript, however, supports the omission, and this kind of interjection is entirely possible (cf. Rom. 1.25). The interjection does not indicate what the ‘I’ thinks, but is Paul’s Christian conviction.51 The ‘I’ refers collectively to non-Christian humanity despite the Christian interjection in Rom. 7.25. 44. An autobiographical interpretation is preferred, e.g., by Theissen (1987: 190–201) and by Gundry (2005: 252–71). 45. (Theissen 1987: 195) 46. (Theissen 1987: 195) 47. (Dodd 1999: 234) 48. (Stowers 1994: 264–9; 1995: 180–91) Stowers has received criticism (Anderson 1999 and Thurén 2002) and has responded to it (2003). 49. (Theissen 1987: 192–5) 50. (Bultmann 1967: 278–9; Käsemann 1973: 202; Wilckens 1980: 96–7; Schmithals 1988: 255–6) 51. (E.g., Kümmel 1974: 64–8, Cranfield 1975: 368, Laato 1991: 160–1 and Gundry 2005: 269–71)

116

Paul and Epictetus on Law

6.2.2. The Unconscious Fall The beginning of the ‘I’-passage describes the past of non-Christians. Several features in Rom. 7.7-13 link the passage to contemporary interpretations of Gen. 2–3.52 Here I pick up on just one, the theme of covetousness () in the Fall. Paul reduces the whole law to the tenth commandment: ‘You shall not covet’ (v. 9). This kind of reduction was also known to contemporary Jews. Philo (Decal. 173; Spec. 4.84) and 4 Macc. 2.6 show that covetousness could be understood in the light of Greco-Roman moral philosophy, not in a sexual sense but as an archevil (cf. Jas. 1.15). Paul seems to be dependent on this tradition. Thus covetousness in Romans 7 should not be understood only in a sexual sense,53 but as the first expression of sin in general. Paul’s reasoning on covetousness stands in the Jewish tradition influenced by contemporary moral philosophy. What kind of moral philosophy is closest to his reasoning? The interconnection between covetousness, sin, and the prohibition of the law has often been interpreted within the so-called theory of the forbidden fruit,54 meaning that we have a special lust for the thing that is prohibited (Ovid, Am. 2.19.3; 3.4.17) or a lust for the transgression itself (Augustine, Conf. 2.4–6). What is at stake in both cases is conscious sinning: one sins while knowing it to be prohibited and even while accepting the validity of the prohibition. Augustine thought that conscious sinning is due to ‘the prevalence of the lower will over the higher’.55 The repeated cognitive verbs ( and ) in Rom. 7.7 seem to emphasize that the Fall had something to do with knowledge.56 This, however, should not lead to the Augustinian interpretation. Epictetus presents a more apt analogy. Because he represented the old Stoic view of a unified soul, he explained vice not as an uncontrolled outburst of a lower will, but as a deception in rational thought. Epictetus’ Medea was deceived () just like Paul’s ‘I’ was deceived () by sin. The issue here is not knowledge as such, but the lack of it. The motif of deception presupposes an incomplete consciousness of the transgression.57 This is clear in the case of the Epictetan Medea, and also fits the Fall of the Pauline ‘I’: sin reveals () its real nature only after the Fall (Rom. 7.13). The ‘I’ knew the law when falling into sin but the knowledge was 52. See, e.g., Hübner (1978: 65–8), Theissen (1987: 202–8) and Laato (1991: 172–3). 53. (Theissen 1987: 205–6; Umbach 1999: 278) Some, e.g., Boyarin (1994: 162–4), understand covetousness in a sexual sense. Bultmann (1967: 198–209) has proposed that covetousness means a false will to gain life by fulfilling the law. This interpretation, however, cannot be proved using Paul’s texts (Räisänen 1992: 95–111). 54. E.g., Kümmel (1974: 45), Räisänen (1987: 142), and Theissen (1987: 224). The interpretation is denied by Cranfield (1975: 350). 55. (O’Donnell 1992: 126) 56. (Cf. Engberg-Pedersen 2000: 241) 57. (Theissen 1987: 231)



6.   The Anthropology and Psychology of Transgression

117

erroneous because of the deception. This fits well with Stoicism where every deed is a result of cognitive calculation, and an error is a result of erroneous calculation. The motif of deception in Rom. 7.11 evidently presupposes an erroneous knowledge at the moment of the Fall. This moment is also referred to by ‘I am sold into slavery () under sin’ (Rom. 7.14). The perfect tense denotes the moment of past selling that is the cause of the lasting misery in Rom. 7.14-25. Selling possibly also bears a connotation of deception, viz. betrayal.58 Paul’s issue is the incomplete knowledge of the law during the Fall. Epictetus also speaks of incomplete knowledge of the divine law: one who feels disturbed is like a stranger who does not know the laws of his or her state, that is, the laws of the divine world state (Disc. 2.13.5–8). In Disc. 2.1.21–25 there is an interplay between law, God’s will, and knowledge. As the uninstructed legislators do not know God’s will, the laws they issue have no divine authority. These Epictetan passages are enough to show that philosophers could also couple law and unconscious vice. This suggests that Paul’s treatment of the law in this passage is closer to Greco-Roman philosophy than scholars have suggested. The law Paul deals with in his narrative of the Fall (Rom. 7.7-13) is, of course, neither state law nor a general divine law of the world as it was in the above-mentioned Epictetan passages. For Paul the law is the Torah as shown in his quotation of the tenth commandment, in his exposition of the marital law of Moses a couple of lines above (Rom. 7.2-3), and in his identification of the law with a written text () (Rom. 7.6).59 These facts unmistakably betray Paul’s Jewish background. We should, however, note that Stoic moral psychology provided the conceptual context in which Paul dealt with the Jewish law. In this matrix the Torah gains features that resemble the philosophical divine law. The shift in the philosophical direction was not a novel one in Jewish circles as, for example, Philo proves. Paul identifies the Torah with more general moral principles. The motivation for this shift is already seen in Rom. 5.12-14: if sins are not counted before 58. Sophocles (Phil. 978) and Euripides (Tro. 936) attest that  can mean ‘to betray’ (Liddell and Scott 1953:  II). The formula  + []    (3 Kgdms 20.20, 25 [1 Kgs 21.20, 25], 4 Kgdms 17.17 [2 Kgs 17.17], 1 Macc. 1.15) may have influenced Paul (Dunn 1988: 388). Greek passives are translations for rbm in hitpa’el (probably so also in 1 Kgs 21.20 [3 Kgds 20.20]). Hitpa’el may sometimes have a passive meaning instead of the usual reflexive one (Joüon 1991: 159), but this seems not to be the case in the abovementioned biblical verses. The contexts of those verses do not presuppose that the wrongdoers are passive subjects but that the wrongdoers have allowed themselves to be sold. Thus in these verses Greek passives should be understood as the indirect reflexive middle voice which is also grammatically possible (Smyth 1984: 394 [§ 1736]). In this light, Paul’s saying should be understood as ‘I have allowed myself to be sold / betrayed into slavery under sin’. This, however, does not mean any conscious intention to be sold or betrayed. One cannot consciously reach for betrayal which presupposes the lack of consciousness. Allowance should be understood as negligence. 59. On  here and generally in Paul, see Schrenk (1974: 765–8).

118

Paul and Epictetus on Law

the law, Adam did not sin and earn death. But Paul states, without giving any reason, that Adam died. In Rom. 7.7-13 Paul returns to this problem. Since the ‘I’ denotes all non-Christian humanity, here it also includes pre-Mosaic generations (cf. the connections to the interpretation of Gen. 2–3). This suggests that Paul thought that the Torah somehow existed already before Moses, and thus all people are guilty of their death. Paul equates the Torah with some general principles that for the philosophically oriented readers must have seemed similar to the law of nature. The Torah is evidently equivalent to natural knowledge of the law in Romans 2.60 Here the idea seems to be the same.

6.2.3. Conscious Transgression: Apocalypticism Meets Stoicism Rom. 7.14-25 does not speak about unconscious sin: ‘we know’ (v. 14), ‘I know’ (v. 18) and ‘I find’ (v. 21) show that the ‘I’ acknowledges the contradiction between good intention and the sinful state. Neither does the expression ‘I do not understand’ ( ) (v. 15) mean that the ‘I’ is unconscious of the contradiction. What the ‘I’ cannot understand is the reason for the contradiction, or why the deeds are wrong although the ‘I’ wants the good. Paul seems to be engaged in the old moral dilemma in which one cannot realize what one knows to be right. This is different from Stoic moral psychology’s promotion of the theory of unconscious vice. Does Aristotle present a better analogy? According to him, an acratic person is under the influence of passions (  ) and does not exercise the knowledge he or she has. Desire ( ) can overcome sober judgement ‘since desire can put the various parts of the body ( ) in motion’ (Eth. Nic. 1147a; transl. by Rackham LCL). At first sight, Aristotle seems to describe a person similar to Paul’s ‘I’ who knows what is right but who does what is wrong because of the bodily passions. In a closer analysis, however, some remarkable differences stand out. Aristotle solves the acratic dilemma by saying that acratic persons do not really know what is right. They just utter right things like a drunk or an actor; they have not internalized the truth.61 This is not the case with Paul’s ‘I’, who painfully feels the contradiction between knowledge and deeds. Actually, ‘I’ has a hearty will for good. A further difference between Paul and Aristotle is in their views of human psychology. Aristotle supposes that the passions arise out of a lower part of the soul. The human soul seems ‘to contain another element beside that of rational principle, which combats and resists (   ) that principle’. ‘Another element’ denotes the impulses ( ) (Aristotle, Eth. Nic. 1102b; transl. Rackham LCL). Though Aristotle’s metaphors of warfare are reminiscent of what the ‘I’ says (Rom. 7.23), the conflict between the two principles is 60. Cf. Thurén (2000: 128–29). 61. This is Aristotle’s main point though his argumentation is complicated (Robinson 1977).



6.   The Anthropology and Psychology of Transgression

119

different. Aristotle postulates an intrasoul conflict while Paul presents a conflict between soul and body. That the human soul is divided was also Plato’s view (Resp. 434d–441c; Phaedr. 253c–256d) and this theory was widely known in antiquity. We saw above that Augustine dealt with the problem of the lower and the higher will. Paul, however, does not stand in that tradition. There is no indication of different parts of the soul in Romans 7. In the whole ‘I’-passage there is no division in the will or in the soul of the ‘I’, but there is a division between soul and body. Soul is in its entirety on the side of the good,62 and it is as free from bodily compulsion as the soul in Epictetus’ philosophy. Paul even describes the soul as a rational mind ( ) and as the inner human being (  ) (Rom. 7.22-25).63 Both descriptions suit well Epictetus’ Stoic anthropology, while nothing hints that the soul has an irrational nature. Stoic psychology provides the two premises which lie behind the reasoning of the ‘I’ (vv. 15-17 and repeated in vv. 18-20). The first premise is the idea of a unified soul, meaning that a lower part of the soul is not the reason for wrong deeds. This Platonic-Aristotelian option is absent. The idea of a unified soul is particular to Epictetus and many other Stoics. Paul thus seems to be dependent on the Stoic tradition here. The Stoics would have also accepted Paul’s second premise, which was originally a Socratic idea: the will informed by the consciousness of the good should automatically lead to good behaviour if nothing interferes. This second premise was not particular to the Stoics, but Aristotle, too, accepted it.64 These two thoughts are the premises for the reasoning of Paul’s ‘I’. The ‘I’ supposes that a will for good should lead to good behaviour. This is not the case, yet the ‘I’ concludes that he or she is innocent, assuming that the will is unified. The reason for misdeeds must then be an obstacle, sin that has overpowered ‘I’: ‘Now if I do what I do not want, it is no longer I that do it, but sin that dwells within me’ (Rom. 7.20; cf. 7.17). The wrong deeds are not due to the ‘I’, but to the power of sin.65 This is not to say that the reasoning of the ‘I’ is entirely Stoic. ‘I’ only takes recourse to Stoic premises to analyse his or her contradiction. According to

62. Stowers (1994: 279) interprets the Pauline division between soul and body as a Platonic division between higher and lower soul. 63. That ‘mind’ has something to do with human rationality is plain. See, e.g., Behm (1973: 968), Bultmann (1958: 211–21) and Sand (1991: 487). Many scholars identify ‘mind’ with ‘the inner human being’ (Bultmann 1958: 204, 213; Käsemann 1973: 196; Kümmel 1974: 135; Cranfield 1975: 363; Wilckens 1980: 90; Lindgård 2005: 117–18). Betz (2000: 338) takes it that the terms indicate the Platonic separation between different parts of the soul (thus seemingly also Heckel 1993: 193). The terms, however, do not betray such a psychology as they were used in various senses (Lindgård 2005: 119). 64. (Robinson 1977: 81–2) 65. Murray (1967: 272) and Dunn (1988: 407) try to maintain the responsibility of the ‘I’. Murray even postulates two wills in the ‘I’. Kuula (2003: 268–71) puts it rightly.

120

Paul and Epictetus on Law

mainstream Stoics like Epictetus, a conscious contradiction between will and deeds is impossible. Paul, however, takes this non-Stoic contradiction as a fact,66 analyses it with the help of the Stoic premises, and finally draws a non-Stoic conclusion: sin within Paul’s ‘I’ is a power instead of the unconscious error ( ) that Epictetus speaks about (Disc. 2.26.1). Passages from Epictetus and Paul make this difference evident: (1)                       (2)                      - - - (4) - - -         

(18)        ’                  (19)              (20)                  

(1) Every error involves a contradiction. For since he who is in error does not wish to err, but be right, it is clear that he is not doing what he wishes. (2) For what does the thief wish to achieve? His own interest. Therefore, if thievery is against his interest, he is not doing what he wishes. – (4) – he is not doing what he wishes, and doing what he does not wish (Disc. 2.26.1–2, 4).

(18) For I know that nothing good dwells within me, that is, in my flesh. I can will what is right, but I cannot do it. (19) For I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want is what I do. (20) Now if I do what I do not want, it is no longer I that do it, but sin that dwells within me (Rom. 7.18-20; cf. 7.14-17).

Paul’s wording betrays an unmistakably philosophical background.67 He, however, develops it in his own way by blaming the power of sin. Sin is introduced already in Rom. 5.12 as a power which ‘came into the world’. In Romans 7, sin has clear personal characteristics such as producing covetousness (v. 7), deception, (v. 11), death (v. 13), killing (v. 11), owning slaves (v. 14), dwelling, and making the ‘I’ transgress (vv. 17, 20). Stowers aptly notes that the personification of different impulses and demands was common in Greco-Roman polytheistic religion, and that philosophers rationalized the personifications.68 The Stoic Cleanthes composed a discussion between Passion and Reason (SVF 66. Commentators usually note the difference in consciousness; see, e.g., Zahn (1910: 351 n. 100), Bonhöffer (1911: 61), Bultmann (1912: 184; 1984: 85), Sharp (1914: 2), and Boring, Berger and Colpe (1995: 371). Vollenweider (1989: 351) and Heckel (1993: 200–206) understand the Pauline contradiction as an unconscious one, but the grounds for this remain unclear. EngbergPedersen (2000: 245–6) understands bodily sin as a wrong view of the body and thus a cognitive problem. This would be a Stoic interpretation of the sin of the ‘I’. There is, however, something wrong with the body itself since the body must be freed (Romans 8), not one’s thoughts. 67. See also J. Weiss (1917: 399 n. 1) 68. (Stowers 1994: 272, 280)



6.   The Anthropology and Psychology of Transgression

121

1.570 Cleanthes) which was an illustration of the moral conflict.69 Epictetus comes close to Paul’s idea of an enslaving sin by saying that ‘no one who lives in error is free’ (    ) but lives in slavery (Disc. 2.1.23–24; cf. 4.1.2–3).70 Stowers is right to note that the idea of sin as a personified power is not fully alien to the Greco-Roman philosophical tradition, within which the personification was understood as a metaphor. However, he probably goes too far in claiming that Pauline sin as a power is a metaphor.71 The reasoning of the ‘I’ requires more. Stoic psychology necessitates that Paul constructs an external obstacle that has overpowered ‘I’. Without an external power he cannot explain the wrong deeds of ‘I’. Thus the external power must be something other than a metaphor for an inner drive. Logically, liberation from the power of sin is possible only through another external power, namely the power of the Spirit and Christ (Rom. 8).72 The idea of sin as a compelling power gives a new accent to the contradiction of the ‘I’. The contradiction between will and deeds also turns out to be a contradiction between will and reality: the ‘I’ wants good, but only finds the reign of sin. This painful contradiction between will and reality is similar to what Epictetus says using the rhetorical ‘I’: ‘I want something, and it does not happen; and what creature is more wretched than I? I do not want something, and it does happen; and what creature is more wretched than I?’ (Disc. 2.17.18). Epictetus portrays Medea, with her intolerance of her divorce, as a paradigm of a person living in an unwanted situation. The contradiction between will and reality is painfully conscious. Fools think that it is good to change reality and try to do so, but they fail. What they do does not promote their will for the good and serene life. They do not know that they should change their will, not reality. Wrong deeds are a product of ignorance. According to Epictetus, there is a double contradiction: the contradiction between will and reality is conscious while the contradiction between will and deeds is unconscious. Paul’s ‘I’, however, con­ sciously does wrong. Paul explains this conscious wrongdoing as a result of sin which, in turn, is an unwanted reality. Thus the contradiction between will and deeds is also a contradiction between will and unwanted reality. 69. Because the discussion has been preserved only as a fragment, we cannot know how Cleanthes rationalized it. The middle Stoic Posidonius took it as proof that Cleanthes differentiated two parts in the soul, but this is far from certain (Long and Sedley 1988: 422). 70. Cf. ‘Everyone who commits sin is a slave to sin’ (        ) (Jn 8.34). 71. Stowers (1994: 180, 272) follows Kaye (1979: 43–6) and Räisänen (1987: 99 n. 29), who have promoted the metaphorical interpretation, though without any reference to the personification in the philosophical tradition. Kaye, however, admits that sin is referred to in ‘the highly personalised way’. 72. (Cf. Kuula 2003: 276–80)

122

Paul and Epictetus on Law

Paul’s ‘I’ has concluded that sin has taken the reins of the self. Later we hear that the destructive power of sin reigns in the whole world (Rom. 8.18-23). The course of the world is entirely distorted. Paul’s ‘I’ groans about the contradiction between the right will and the distorted world. Epictetus’ ‘I’ bemoans a contradiction between the distorted will and the right world. According to Epictetus, all external things in the world, including the body, are governed by God. The apostle’s and the philosopher’s understandings of the root problem are polar opposites. Because Paul and Epictetus see the problem differently, they also propose different solutions.73 Epictetus admonishes Medea to end her suffering over her divorce by giving up ‘wanting anything but what God wants’ (Disc. 2.17.22). This means as a piece of general wisdom that one should not ‘seek to have everything that happens happen as you wish, but wish for everything to happen as it actually does happen, and your life will be serene’ (Epictetus, Ench. 8). Epictetus advises us to adjust our will to accept everything in the world, even death (e.g., Disc. 2.6.11–19; 4.1.103–106). For Paul, there could be no worse advice. According to him, we should never adjust to this evil world ruled by sin and death. What is needed is a complete revolution in the world, and Paul believes that this revolution has begun in Christ. Although the end of the revolution is in the future (Rom. 8.18-25), Christians are already freed from the compulsion of sin. This, of course, reflects Paul’s apocalyptic world view, which is linked with Stoic elements.

6.2.4. Anthropology and Laws We have already seen that the reasoning of Paul’s ‘I’ presumes the Stoic idea of a unified soul. This is not the only anthropological idea which Paul shared with the Stoics. The relationship between soul and body is also quite similar in their views of the human condition. Moreover, both illustrate this relationship with the help of different kinds of laws. In Romans 7, the contradiction between will and deeds is also a contradiction between soul (    ,  ) and body (     ). Paul clearly defines his anthropology in dualistic terms, but not in a Platonic sense. As we have seen, for Plato the body was a prison of the soul. The soul should be as free from the body as possible, although complete freedom will be reached only after death (Plato, Phaed. 67c–d). It is a commonplace that scholars say Paul did not accept Platonic dualism.74 Paul’s anthropology is basically holistic. Though the ‘I’ is identified more with the soul, the body is not alien to it. The body clearly belongs to the ‘I’ as sin in the body is ‘within me’ (Rom. 7.17, 18, 20). Only Rom. 7.24 comes close to 73. Cf. Long’s (2002: 146–7) comparison of Epictetus and Christianity. 74. (E.g., Bultmann 1958: 195, Bornkamm 1985: 193, Dunn 1988: 393–4, Betz 2000: 337 and Engberg-Pedersen 2000: 244)



6.   The Anthropology and Psychology of Transgression

123

expressing the Platonic anthropology when the ‘I’ bemoans, ‘Who will rescue me from this body of death?’ (italics mine). Here the ‘I’ seems to be distinct from the body. The question, however, is rhetorical and should be understood as a statement that ‘no one will rescue me from this body of death’. This explanation is affirmed by the salvation described in Romans 8. There is no deliverance of the soul from the body, but deliverance of the body from sin and mortality (Rom. 8.11, 23). Despite the differences between Platonic and Pauline anthropology, many scholars have supposed that Paul was influenced by Platonic anthropology in Romans 7, possibly through Gnosticism. Moreover, they maintain that Paul has diluted Plato’s clear-cut dualism.75 It is, however, unnecessary to search for the matrix of Paul’s anthropology in Platonism. As we have seen, the Stoic anthropology represented by Epictetus was more ‘softly’ dualistic than that of Plato. For Epictetus, the human being is basically whole, but he conceptually divided human beings into soul and body. This is just what Paul does in Romans 7.76 It is noteworthy that both Paul and Epictetus associate death with the body. For Epictetus, the body is ‘unblessed by fortune and mortal’ (  ) (Disc. 1.3.3; transl. revised) and is ‘this paltry body of death’ (    ) (Disc. 2.19.27). In similar terms, Paul’s ‘I’ seeks deliverance ‘from this body of death’ (     ) (Rom. 7.24; cf. 8.10-11). Paul does not say that the soul is ‘divine and blessed’ (  ) (Disc. 1.3.3) though the idea of a divine soul was also possible for a Jewish thinker like Philo.77 Paul does, however, approach this idea. First, the soul agrees with God, for it ‘delights in the law of God’ (Rom. 7.22), and second, though the ‘I’ is no divine entity, the divine Spirit of Christ dwells in Christians (Rom. 8.9-11).78 Epictetus’ anthropological dualism serves primarily ethical aims in that we should identify ourselves with ‘reason and intelligence’ (Disc. 1.3.3), not with the wretched and mortal body. The uneducated who take external things – like the body and death – as something valuable will exclaim like Paul’s ‘I’ (Rom. 7.24) ‘Wretched that I am!’ ( ) (Disc. 1.4.23–24), ‘That poor man!’ ( ) (Disc. 1.27.5), ‘For what am I? A miserable, paltry man!’ (    ), and ‘Lo, my wretched, paltry flesh!’ (   ) (Disc. 1.3.5).79 These are exclamations in ancient 75. (E.g., Cranfield 1975: 363 n. 2, Michel 1978: 234 n. 41, Wilckens 1980: 93, Bornkamm 1985: 192–3 and Dunn 1988: 393–4) According to Duchrow (1983: 93), scholars have defined the background of Romans 7 and its anthropology with such terms and names as Philo, Hellenism, Plato, Gnosticism, Gnostic Judaism (Qumran), and the Jewish experience. 76. (Cf. Vollenweider 1989: 352) 77. (Tobin 1983: 77–101) 78. Bonhöffer (1911: 50–1) also notes the similarity. 79. Additional similar passages are indicated in Schenkl’s Index verborum ( ).

124

Paul and Epictetus on Law

tragedies (Disc. 1.4.25–26),80 and they were known in the Septuagint, too (4 Macc. 8.17).81 According to Epictetus, people are wretched because of their ignorance. They can be freed from their miserable state as soon as they realize that they should want what God wants, that is, anything that happens. Paul’s ‘I’, in turn, is not an ignorant fool. The ‘I’ realizes what God wants, but he or she cannot adjust to anything that happens as the world is reigned over by sin. Death is associated with sin, which seems to arise from certain interpretations of the story of the Fall in Genesis (Rom. 5.12-14). That is why Paul’s ‘I’ cannot morally accept death. This reserved attitude toward the world and its course is an apocalyptic feature. Paul’s apocalyptic worldview prevents him from wholly embracing Stoic anthropology and its acceptance of death as something natural. Paul’s anthropology in Romans 7 is, thus, only selectively Stoic. It is striking that both Paul and Epictetus describe the anthropological contradiction with a similar wordplay on law. The word   denotes the Torah in Romans 7 before verse 21, but in Rom. 7.21–8.2 Paul attaches new meanings to the word as Heikki Räisänen has convincingly shown.82 In Rom. 7.21,   is a rule that evil is present in the ‘I’. This law is, of course, not the Torah, which is not sin but ‘holy and just and good’ (Rom. 7.7, 12). The ‘I’ speaks of the Torah in saying that the inner human being delights in God’s law (Rom. 7.22), and that the ‘I’ is a slave in his or her mind to God’s law (Rom. 7.25). When the mind accepts the Torah as its law, the Torah is ‘the law of my mind’ (Rom. 7.23).83 The mind is sovereign in its own sphere, and compulsion in the body cannot affect it. ‘The law of my mind’ clearly refers to the power of the mind, viz. the soul which, unfortunately, does not have enough power to fulfil its will in deeds. We should, however, note that the soul has limited freedom, for it can freely accept the moral code of God. There is, however, another power in the ‘I’, namely ‘another law’. The base of its operations is in the body; it wages war against the soul and makes the ‘I’ obey ‘the law of sin’ (Rom. 7.23, 25). ‘Another law’ is a power that has occupied the ‘I’ in whom ‘the law of my mind’ still continues its underground resistance without any effect on everyday life. The ‘I’ is fully subjugated to ‘the law of sin’, which is the moral code promoted by the power called ‘another law’. ‘The law of sin’ is an alternative, or rather the antipode to God’s moral 80. (Cf. Stowers 1994: 271–2) 81. I thank Prof Ismo Dunderberg for this remark. 82. (Räisänen 1992: 63–8, 88–94) Dunn (1988: 392–9) and some other scholars (like those Dunn mentions) promote the view that Paul refers all the time to the Torah. Yet their theory on the two-sidedness of the law contradicts the fact that Paul is speaking about two different laws fighting with each other. 83. We should not straightforwardly identify ‘the law of my mind’ with the Torah, ‘since a person uses the former to comply with the latter’ (Räisänen 1992: 64 n. 1). The Torah is ‘the law of my mind’ only after the mind has accepted it as such (Bultmann 1958: 213).



6.   The Anthropology and Psychology of Transgression

125

code, ‘the law of God’, viz. the Torah. There is a war of dominion over the ‘I’, and ‘another law’ clearly has the whip hand. The ‘I’ captured by ‘another law’ is helplessly going toward final destruction, death (Rom. 7.24). Among the seven occurrences of   in Rom. 7.21-5 there are no less than three senses with differing nuances: ‘rule’, ‘power’ and ‘code’. Räisänen has exclaimed, ‘Paul is really playing games with his language!’84 The starting point of the wordplay is   as the Torah, but Paul creates new meanings in order to illustrate the division in the ‘I’. The division is at the same time ethical (the law of God vs. the law of sin) and anthropological (soul vs. body). Epictetus, too, illustrates a similar two-dimensional division with the help of laws. The wordplay has its starting point in the state law:                            Do you see whither you bend your gaze, that it is to the earth, that it is to the pit, that it is to these wretched laws of ours, the laws of the dead, and that it is not to the laws of the gods that you look? (Disc. 1.13.5)

We have seen that ‘earth’, ‘pit’ and ‘dead’ denote the body while ‘the gods’ denotes the souls of human beings. The laws illustrate Epictetus’ two-dimensional anthropology. They, however, are not only related to anthropology but also to ethical matters since one should recognize the equality of all human souls and treat one’s slave as one’s brother. The laws include ethical requirements. The two laws thus illustrate the anthropological and the ethical dichotomy, which is not ideologically far from Rom. 7.21-5.85 Both Paul and Epictetus describe the human state with the help of wordplays on law. Epictetus’ view, however, is more optimistic than Paul’s. Paul’s apocalyptic world view labels the body a dark realm of sin, while Epictetus’ ‘laws of the dead’ refer to the God-given but indifferent bodily realm. Yet the designation ‘the laws of the dead’ suggests that the bodily realm is not very far from being evil, and it is clear that Epictetus prefers the divine laws. Epictetus’ laws describe an ethical dichotomy though it is not so sharp as in Paul. Disc. 1.13.5 is not identical with Rom. 7.21-5, but stands close to it. This suggests that Paul’s wordplay on law illustrating the anthropological and ethical dichotomy conforms with the Greco-Roman philosophical tradition. Paul’s wordplay continues until Rom. 8.2. The miserable state of the ‘I’ under sin and death is ended by the new law which is ‘the law of the Spirit of the life in Jesus Christ’. This law is not the Torah, which was proved powerless 84. (Räisänen 1992: 64) His sorting slightly differs from mine, but I agree with his view that there is a wordplay on   in Rom. 7.21-5. 85. Cf. Black (1989: 101) who sees an analogy between ‘the law of my mind’ and the Stoic natural law.

126

Paul and Epictetus on Law

(Rom. 8.3).86 Nor is it ‘the law of my mind’, which was also incompetent to overthrow ‘the law of sin’. The new law is the power of the Spirit and Christ which overthrows the hostile power, ‘the law of sin and of death’.87 F. Stanley Jones has proposed that Epictetus’ ‘law of life’ ( ) (Disc. 1.26.1; cf. Philo, Prob. 51) comes close to ‘the law of the Spirit of the life ( ) in Jesus Christ’.88 Both laws are combined with life, but in different ways. Epictetus’ law is an ethical requirement to follow nature, while Paul’s law is a liberating power.89 Vollenweider thinks that Paul’s ‘law of the Spirit of the life in Jesus Christ’ reflects the Stoic universal law (‘Das stoische Universalgesetz’), which probably denotes an unavoidable necessity.90 In my view, the reflection is very shadowy. ‘The law of the Spirit of the life in Jesus Christ’ is not an unavoidable necessity as Christians are exhorted to ‘cooperate with this power’ (8.5-8).91 Christians are free to cooperate; they are not under an unavoidable necessity. The closest analogy in Epictetus is ‘the laws of the gods’ (Disc. 1.13.5) which one can either accept or reject as one’s guide for life, but this is no exact analogy. ‘The laws of the gods’ are a natural gift like ‘the law of my mind’ (Rom. 7.23), not a supernatural liberating power. Epictetus presents no exact analogy to Paul’s idea of the supernatural power of the Spirit. Despite the differences, Paul’s text in Romans 7 is closely related to Stoicism. Epictetus’ philosophy of mind, anthropology, and views on law are similar to those with which Paul was familiar.92 Paul combined the Stoicism he knew with his Jewish Christian convictions.

86. It seems to be clear that the law in Rom 8.3 is the Torah (Räisänen 1987: 67). 87. It is indifferent how we philologically see the role of Christ in the expression ‘the law of the Spirit of the life in Jesus Christ’ (for the different philological possibilities, see Cranfield 1975: 374–5 and Schlier 1977: 239). In any case, life, Christ, and the Spirit are intimately combined, as Rom. 8.9-10 shows (italics mine): ‘You are in the Spirit, since the Spirit of God dwells in you. Anyone who does not have the Spirit of Christ does not belong to him. But if Christ is in you, though the body is dead because of sin, the Spirit is life because of righteousness’. ‘Law’ should be understood in a metaphorical sense and does not denote any specific code (e.g., Käsemann 1973: 205; Schlier 1977: 238; Vollenweider 1989: 368; Räisänen 1992: 63–8). 88. (Jones 1987: 125) 89. On ‘law of life’, see subsection 3.1.3. 90. (Vollenweider 1989: 357) 91. (Stowers 1994: 283) 92. (Cf. Engberg-Pedersen 2002: 56)

Chapter 7 Fulfilling the Law 7.1. Epictetus: Progress After Examples In the previous chapter I concentrated on theoretical aspects of Stoic moral philosophy. In the present chapter my focus is on the practical side of moral teachings with special reference to law as a part of this teaching. I will review Epictetus’ view on moral training and present his portrayals of persons who are fully obedient to God’s law. In section 7.2, I claim that Epictetus’ philosophy enriches our understanding of Paul’s moral teaching and his idea of ‘works of law’. I also discuss how far Paul’s portrayal of Christ is analogical to Epictetus’ portrayals of his moral heroes.

7.1.1. Moral Training For Epictetus, knowledge is the key that opens the door out of the moral slavery characterized by the double contradiction. With guidance, people can get free from the discrepancy between will and reality and between will and deeds. Yet it is not enough to know about such things theoretically; one also needs to live in accordance with the liberating knowledge. ‘Whatever principles are set before you,1 stand fast by these like laws ( ), feeling that it would be impiety for you to transgress ( ) them’ (Ench. 50). Of course, ‘whatever principles’ does not really mean whatever. As Simplicius, an early commentator on the Encheiridion, already saw (In Ench. 134), Epictetus means here the Stoic principles.2 In addition, Epictetus instructs ‘Let everything which seems to you to be best be for you a law that must not be transgressed ( )’ (Ench. 51.2). In the context, ‘the best things’ are associated with the Stoic principles which should lead one to the philosophical life. The requirement of the philosophical life is due to the fact that not even the educated are free from mental disturbances. The reason for disturbances 1. The actual Greek wording of the clause differs a lot in the manuscripts. Schenkl and Oldfather prefer  , Boter prefers  , while there are also other readings that present different forms of  and  (see Boter’s textual apparatus). Despite the differences the thought is clear enough. I have translated according to Oldfather. 2. G. Long (sine anno: 400 n. 1) interprets ‘whatever’ to mean that which is proposed by philosophers and especially by Epictetus’ Enchiridion.

128

Paul and Epictetus on Law

among the educated is the habits (  or  ) learned since childhood. ‘In the course of years we have acquired the habit of doing the opposite of what we learn and have in use opinions which are the opposite of the correct ones’ (Disc. 2.9.14; cf. 3.19.4–6).3 The antidote to bad habits is the use of the opposite habits.4 (4) What reinforcements, then, is it possible to find with which to oppose habit? Why, the contrary habit. (5) You hear the common folk saying, ‘That poor man ( )! He is dead; his father perished, and his mother; he was cut off, yes, and before his time, and in a foreign land’. (6) Listen to the arguments on the other side, tear yourself away from these expressions, set over against one habit the contrary habit (Disc. 1.27.4–6; cf. 2.18.1–14; 3.12.6–7).

Habituation is a means for practical training ( ). Practical training should be added after one has learned the theoretical truths ( ), and then has thought through the everyday applications of those truths ( ) (e.g., Disc. 2.9.13).5 There is thus a threefold division beginning from (1) theory, moving into (2) its application, and ending in (3) practical training. The threefold division is already taught by Epictetus’ teacher, Musonius Rufus, who separated psychological and psycho-physical training from each other.6 In the former, trainees habituate to the use of the theory of value; in the latter they habituate to cold, hunger, etc. while the soul is trained ‘for courage by patience under hardship and for self-control by abstinence from pleasures’ (Musonius Rufus 6; transl. Lutz7). Though Epictetus does not explicitly divide the training, he presents examples of both kinds of training. One example of psychological training is connected to the groaning about death in Disc. 1.27.5 which I cited some lines above. Epictetus admonishes the listener to perceive that death only appears to be evil. In fact, it is not evil at all, but it is an inevitable thing that cannot be escaped. One can only avoid fear of it by accepting its inevitability, ‘for the origin of vicious emotions () is this – to wish for something that does not come to pass’ (Disc. 1.27.7–10; transl. revised).8 One should be trained to accept reality as it is, and thus avoid the contradiction between will and reality. Psycho-physical training includes the endurance of a physical, possibly painful, hardship (Ench. 47). Epictetus illustrates this kind of training with ath 3. On habit, see Hijmans (1959: 64–5). 4. The thought is originally Aristotelian (Eth. Nic. 1109b) (Hijmans 1959: 63; Dobbin 1998: 215). 5. On the threefold division, see Bonhöffer (1890: 10; 1894: 147; 1911: 14), Hijmans (1959: 64–8) and Barnes (1997: 47–8). 6. (Valantasis 1999: 220–2) 7. (Lutz 1947: 54 lines 10–25) 8. My explanation presupposes that  (section 7) in S is corrected to , a reading accepted by all modern scholars (Dobbin 1998: 216).



7.   Fulfilling the Law

129

letic images which are usual in Greco-Roman philosophical texts.9 We should train constantly in order to succeed in the contest. The athletic image is applied, for example, in Disc. 3.10. Illness is like a bout in the pancratium, an ancient contest consisting of a mix of wrestling and boxing (sections 6–7).10 One should be trained in case of a ‘bout’ with illness. (7) What, then, ought a man to say to himself at each hardship that befalls him? ‘It was for this that I kept training (), it was to meet this that I used to practise ()’. (8) God says to you, ‘Give Me proof, whether you have striven lawfully (     ), eaten what is prescribed, taken exercise (), heeded your trainer’. After that, do you flinch when the time for action arrives? Now it is time for your fever, let it come upon you in the right way; for thirst, bear your thirst in the right way; to go hungry, bear hunger in the right way. (9) It is not in your power, you say? Who is there to prevent you? Nay, your physician will prevent you from drinking, but he cannot prevent you from thirsting in the right way; and he will prevent you from eating, but he cannot prevent you from bearing hunger in the right way (Disc. 3.10.8–9).

Lawful striving does not refer to a contest held according to the codes of the contest, but to a training program ( ) required of the Olympic contestants.11 Epictetus says that the program includes a regimen and athletic exercises supervised by a coach. In the games the contestants swore in front of the statue of Zeus that they had trained for the previous ten months (Pausanias, Descr. 5.24.9). In practice, the contestants were professionals because of their longterm training. Thus, by ‘those who strive lawfully’ (  ) Epictetus denotes professional athletes.12 The athletic imagery emphasizes the need for long and hard training in the philosophical lifestyle. For example, one can take a mouthful of cold water when thirsting on a hot day – and spit it out (Disc. 3.12.17; Ench. 47). The training prepares the soul and the body to bear with physical hardships, thirst and hunger, in philosophical steadfastness, which is proof13 of the right kind 9. See, e.g., Garrison (1997: 95–104) and Croy (1998: 43–58). On the athletic images in Epictetus, see Long (2002: 120). 10. On the pancratium, see Decker (2000: 250). Lucian (Anach. 3) and – more surprisingly – Philo (Prob. 26) illustrate the pancratium. 11. (Cf. Hijmans 1959: 71) 12. Liddell and Scott 1953:  III. This professionalism is also indicated in 2 Tim. 2.5. The proclaimers can wait for a reward if they have fully dedicated themselves to the proclamation. Similarly, in the case of an athlete no one is crowned without striving lawfully (   ), meaning without undergoing the ten-month training (Kelly 1976: 175–6). Though the wording is quite close to that of Epictetus there is no direct link between 2 Timothy and Epictetus. Both use common technical expressions (Sharp 1914: 2). 13. ‘Proof’ ( ) is not one of the athletic technicalities. In Epictetus it can denote logical reasoning (e.g., Ench. 52.1), the saying of a wise man (e.g., Disc. 4.7.29), or a lifestyle concordant with the philosophical principles (e.g., Disc. 1.24.8). Barnes (1997: 63) finds only the first and the third meaning.

130

Paul and Epictetus on Law

of a preparation. The goal is absolute moral goodness, even though it is only theoretically possible. Is it possible to be free from fault () altogether? No, that cannot be achieved, but it is possible ever to be intent upon avoiding faults (    ). For we must be satisfied, if we succeed in escaping at least a few faults () by never relaxing our attention (Disc. 4.12.19).

Epictetus’ moral goal is both theoretical and practical. His moral exhortation wavers between these two. Sometimes he exhorts his listeners to strive for absolute moral goodness while at other times he advises them that the best that can be done is to avoid some faults.14 There always remains a gap between the ideal and reality though Epictetus may speak as if one can be free from fault altogether (Disc. 4.4.7). We saw in Chapter 6 that ‘I’ in this passage is not Epictetus, but an ideal person. Epictetus claims that in fact none in the classroom (‘we’) is perfect – and hardly any of his contemporaries are perfect. Show me a man who though sick is happy, though in danger is happy, though dying is happy, though condemned to exile is happy, though in disrepute is happy. Show him! By the gods, I would fain see a Stoic! But you cannot show me a man who lives [according to the judgements which he utters]15 (Disc. 2.19.24–25; transl. revised).

It is not clear if this cry expresses deep frustration or a half-serious and half tongue-in-cheek tone.16 At any rate, it expresses the fact that Epictetus does not know of a perfect Stoic among his contemporaries – including himself (Disc. 1.9.19; 2.8.24; 2.9.21; 3.11.3; 4.8.43; Ench. 52).17 Thus, ‘we must be satisfied, if we succeed in escaping at least a few faults’ (Disc. 4.12.19).

7.1.2. Past Examples of Perfect Morality In moral training it is useful to compare oneself with good and excellent men, living or dead (Disc. 2.18.21). Epictetus thinks that at least Zeno and Cleanthes were such men though even they were hardly perfect. As a more recent example he presents Helvidius Priscus, senator and member of ‘the Stoic opposition’, martyred by the emperor Vespasian. He was not fully perfect, either, but good and excellent enough to be a moral example.18 Odysseus is close to a perfect man though he is said to have been unhappy for one moment (Od. 5.82–84). Epictetus, however, thinks that this could be misinformation on the part of Homer (Disc. 3.24.18–20). Thus Odysseus was possibly 14. (Bonhöffer 1894: 149–50; Long 2002: 33) 15. ‘A man who lives [according …]’ is a translation of a single word,  , which refers to a complete clause in section 23:      . 16. For the former alternative, see Deissner (1930: 7) and Hock (1991: 135–6). For the latter, see Long (2002: 124–5). 17. (Bonhöffer 1894: 148; Gretenkord 1981: 140) 18. (Cf. Bonhöffer 1894: 148 and Long 2002: 57–8)



7.   Fulfilling the Law

131

perfect. In any case, Diogenes of Sinope, Socrates and Heracles were perfect men par excellence.19 They conducted their lives in full accordance with God’s law. In Disc. 4.1 Epictetus presents Diogenes of Sinope as an example ( ) of an absolutely free man, who ‘had cast off all harms ()20 of slavery’ (section 152; transl. revised). Why so? Because Diogenes had absolutely internalized the Stoic theory of value. ‘If you had laid hold of his property, he would have let it go rather than followed you for its sake’, and similarly with his leg, his paltry body, his kindred, his friends, and his home state (section 153). In a word, all externals were indifferent to Diogenes. Thus he accepted every change in his life. Epictetus refers to words written () by Diogenes of Sinope: as he was so independent, he ‘was permitted’ (that is, he dared) to converse with kings as he pleased (sections 155–6). Somewhat later he returns to Diogenes’ words. ‘Why, then’, Diogenes says, ‘I am permitted?21 Because I do not regard my paltry body as my own; because I need nothing; because the law, and nothing else, is everything to me (       )’. This it was which allowed him to be a free man (Disc. 4.1.158; transl. revised).

The words on law are a quotation of a source otherwise unknown to us or may be Epictetus’ creation.22 Anyway, they are part of Epictetus’ discourse and we should understand them in this context. The present context betrays that the law is not the law of Diogenes’ home state ( ) which he is ready to let go (section 153). The law is obviously the law of his real home state (   ) (section 154), the law of the universe.23 The law of the universe was everything for Diogenes. He would never have abandoned his real home state, and ‘no other man would have died more cheerfully on behalf of his home state’ (’      ) (section 154; my translation). Diogenes’ readiness to die for his real home state – i.e., the universe – is exemplary, though such a death would have been unnecessary. Epictetus continues: 19. Bonhöffer (1894: 147), Hijmans (1959: 72), Gretenkord (1981: 143) and Newman (1989: 1503–4) name only Socrates and Diogenes. 20. Possibly the reading of manuscript S is corrupted and we should read ‘handles’ () (thus corrector b of S, Schenkl and Oldfather), which fits well with the following wrestling metaphor: ‘… and there was no way in which a person could get close and lay hold () of him to enslave him’. ‘Handles’ is originally a wrestling term (Bonhöffer 1911: 250). I have, however, preferred the lectio difficilior which is understandable and how the manuscript reads. 21. The subjects of the word ‘say’ and ‘permit’ are unclear. Other possible interpretations are ‘ “Why, then”, someone (= interlocutor, imagined or real) says, “Diogenes is permitted?” ’ (cf. Oldfather) and ‘Why, then, Diogenes says that he is permitted?’ (cf. the translation of G. Long). My interpretion makes the sentence parallel to sections 155–6. 22. Cf. Schenkl (1965: 384) and Oldfather (1985: 253 n. 1). 23. Bonhöffer (1894: 97) and Oldfather (1985: 297 n. 3) identify the real home state with the universe. Note also the interpretive translation of Capelle: ‘das [göttliche] Gesetz’.

132

Paul and Epictetus on Law (155)     24               ’25         (155) For it was never his wont to seek to appear to do anything in behalf of the universe, but he bore in mind that everything which has come into being has its source there, is done by the universe and ordered by Him who governs the universe (Disc. 4.1.155; transl. revised).

In a sense, everything comes from a ‘source there’ (), that is, from divine reality. The universe accomplishes everything according to the divine order and no one can affect the route of the universe. Thus there is neither a need nor any possibility to do anything on behalf of the universe.26 As we have seen, Epictetus often uses the word ‘law’ to mean unavoidable necessity. We may safely assume that the law Diogenes obeys (section 158) is the divine law that governs everything. As Diogenes accepted everything that happened, he was also completely obedient to the law of the universe. This did not mean passivity towards people. Though nothing can be done for the universe, much can be done for people. (64) Come, was there anybody that Diogenes did not love (), a man who was so gentle and kind-hearted () that he gladly took upon himself all those troubles and physical hardships for the sake of humankind (    )?27 But what was the manner of his loving ()? (65) As became a servant of Zeus (  ), caring for men indeed, but at the same time subject unto God. (66) That is why for him alone the whole world, and no special place, was his home state () (Disc. 3.24.64–66; transl. revised).

What does it mean that Diogenes took troubles and hardships upon himself for the sake of humankind? In the text that follows the quote, Epictetus tells about Diogenes’ captivity under pirates and his slavery in Corinth (Disc. 3.24.66). Diogenes was also famous for his simple life, through which he preserved the good state of his body and witnessed to the truth of philosophy (Disc. 3.22.86–88; cf. 3.22.46–49; 4.11.21–23). He even ‘took pride in his distress (  ), and demanded that those who passed by should gaze upon him’ (Disc. 3.22.59). Diogenes was ready to accept any circumstances, and thus he was absolutely obedient to God’s law. All that he suffered, he suffered in an 24. Manuscript S reads  which is syntactically impossible. The emendation is widely accepted. 25. This reading of S is usually corrected to  (already corrected by Schweighäuser and after him Schenkl and Oldfather). The reading of S is fully understandable and the emendation is fairly unnecessary. 26. Seeley (1990: 125) takes it literally that one can die for the universe. 27. Oldfather translates the Greek words ‘for the sake of the common weal’. As   in social and political contexts refers to some kind of community (Liddell and Scott 1953:  [III]), I prefer ‘humankind’ (cf. G. Long’s translation ‘mankind’).



7.   Fulfilling the Law

133

exemplary manner. Diogenes’ lifestyle witnessed the truth of philosophy for all. In this sense he loved people and took on troubles and hardships for the sake of humankind. He did not try to change the course of the facts but to improve the judgements which people had on the facts. Epictetus did not expect that all people would adopt Diogenes’ extreme Cynic lifestyle. Therefore he presented Socrates as another example. Socrates led a life as a normal member of his society. He had a wife, children, friends, kinsmen, and Athens as his home state, but in everything he acted as a perfect man. Take Socrates and observe a man who had a wife and little children, but regarded them as not his own,28 who had a country, as far as it was his duty, and in the way in which it was his duty, and friends, and kinsmen, one and all subject to the law and to obedience to the law (         ) (Disc. 4.1.159).

‘The law’ should be understood in the same way as in Diogenes’ words in section 158 (see above). The law is an unavoidable course of facts in a world reigned over by God. Epictetus’ words are somewhat inaccurate, and a literal reading would lead one astray. Literally speaking the excerpt would mean that Socrates subjected his wife, children, country, friends and kinsmen to the law, and thus they were all obedient to the law, that is, morally perfect. This, however, was not the case as Epictetus clearly says. Socrates’ unkind son tried to confute his father with sophisms, and Xanthippe, Socrates’ wife, poured water over the head of her husband and trampled underfoot a cake he got from Alcibiades (Disc. 4.5.3, 33).29 Athenians did wrong when they put Socrates to death (Disc. 4.1.123). What Epictetus means is that Socrates himself was fully obedient to the law. Like Diogenes, he embodies the Stoic theory of value. Socrates did not take to heart external matters but regarded everything ‘as not his own’. He loved () his children, ‘but in a free spirit, as one who remembers that it was his first duty to be a friend () to the gods’ (Disc. 3.24.60). Socrates was first and foremost obedient to God’s law, and he conducted his family life and civil life as far as it was possible for a law-observant man. After describing Socrates’ obedience to the law in Disc. 4.1.159, Epictetus describes the consequences ( ) of such obedience. Epictetus recounts 28. ‘Regarded them as not his own’ () is an emendation for the reading of manuscript S: ‘regarded her as not his own’ (). Schenkl (1965 [1916]) preserves the reading of S which is lectio difficilior. Regardless of the original reading, it is clear that the emendation has caught Epictetus’ point. 29. These were circulating tales about Socrates (Aelian, Var. hist. 11.12; Athenaeus, Deipn. 5.129b; Diogenes Laertius 2.36; Seneca, Ep. 104.27 and Con. 18.5; SVF 3.65 Antipater Tarsensis). Cf. Schweingruber (1943: 63, 73–8), Döring (1979: 56 n. 48, 57 n. 49) and Oldfather (1985: 345 n. 1).

134

Paul and Epictetus on Law

several incidents from Socrates’ life that showed his perfect moral state (sections 160–9): he was a brave soldier, but fearlessly refused to obey an order of the 30 tyrants. He could resist them as he did not try to save () his paltry flesh, but the man of honour and reverence. Furthermore, he did not call for public compassion by presenting himself as a family man at his trial (sections 160–2).30 Most broadly (sections 162–9) Epictetus discusses Socrates’ last days as they are described in Plato’s Crito. Because Socrates was obedient to God’s law he did not escape from prison. For he did not care, he says, to save () his paltry body, but only that which is increased and saved by righteous conduct, and is diminished and destroyed by unrighteous conduct. (           ) (Disc. 4.1.163; transl. revised).

What, then, is increased and saved by righteous conduct? Epictetus’ answer is righteousness. Moral behaviour is dependent on moral training, as we saw above. An act increases and saves () the corresponding character while it destroys () the opposite character. Carpentry saves the carpenter; grammatical studies the grammarian. Similarly, moral acts save the moral character while immoral acts destroy it (Disc. 2.9.10–12). Thus righteous acts increase and save the righteous character. This theory of righteousness though righteous works is by no means peculiar to Epictetus. The same idea can be found in Plato (Crito 47e). The reference is a passing one but well understandable when read in its larger context. Aristotle is clearer in this respect. He says that we have some faculties by nature, like seeing and hearing, but this is not the case with virtues. The virtues on the other hand we acquire by first having actually practiced them, just as we do the arts. We learn an art or craft by doing the things that we shall have to do when we have learnt: for instance, men become builders by building houses, harpers by playing on the harp. Similarly we become righteous () by doing righteous acts ( ), temperate by doing temperate acts, brave by doing brave acts. This truth is attested by the experience of states: lawgivers make the citizens good by training them in habits of right action (  ) – this is the aim of all legislation, and if it fails to do this it is a failure (Aristotle, Eth. Nic. 1103a–b; transl. H. Rackham LCL, slightly revised. Cf. 1105b).

Aristotle thinks that righteousness is one aspect of goodness. Life in accordance with law – if the law is good – makes one good, and thus also righteous. One becomes righteous by keeping the law. All of this is similar to Epictetus’ Socrates, who has been righteous by doing righteous and lawful acts. Aristotle even speaks about the habits acquired by training, a view that we have already encountered in Epictetus’ work. There is an extensive overlap in Aristotle’s and 30. Epictetus refers to incidents known in Plato’s works: bravery at war: Symp. 219e–221b; Lach. 181b, disobedience to the tyrants (Apol. 32b–d; cf. Xenophon, Mem. 1.1.18), no compassion aroused (Apol. 34b–d).



7.   Fulfilling the Law

135

Epictetus’ views on the role of habits.31 Aristotle speaks about the state law while Xenophon also takes divine laws into account. He says that one who is righteous obeys both the laws of the state and the laws of gods (Mem. 4.4.13, 25). Epictetus’ Socrates obeys the divine laws. The Stoics, too, embraced the theory of righteousness through deeds. According to Chrysippus, a person is righteous (iustus) when preserving righteousness (ius) (SVF 3.371 Chrysippus). ‘Ius’ is the common Latin translation of  ,32 the righteousness which Epictetus’ Socrates attained through righteous conduct. In his discourse on training Musonius Rufus, Epictetus’ teacher, asked, ‘How could one become righteous () when he had learned that one must love fairness but had never exercised himself in avoidance of selfishness and greed?’ (Fragm. 6; transl. by Lutz, slightly revised).33 Musonius makes it clear that righteousness is acquired by engaging in righteous deeds. This philosophical theory of righteousness is not content with external deeds, but requires that deeds be done in the right state of mind. Plato (Resp. 443b–e) and Aristotle (Eth. Nic. 1105a–b) make this clear, and Epictetus also says that a right deed in the full sense ( ) is a consciously right deed.34 A pure mind is necessary, but it should manifest itself in deeds. In teaching that one is righteous through one’s own righteous deeds, Epictetus joined a vast philosophical tradition. However, the previous texts are a somewhat mixed bag. On the one hand, there are texts which present righteous deeds as a means of moral progress. The idea is that morally incomplete people train themselves by doing righteous deeds, and gradually acquire more and more moral habits. On the other hand, there are texts which present righteous deeds as a way to preserve the complete moral state. In this case the idea is that morally complete people are always in danger of losing their perfect state and they save it by doing moral deeds. The latter is clearly Epictetus’ point when he speaks about Socrates since Socrates never did anything unrighteous () (Disc. 2.2.9). Socrates did not accept the immoral possibility of escaping from prison, but rather suffered the sentence of death. This moral man was not ‘saved’ by a dishonourable flight, but he was ‘saved by death’ ( ) (Disc. 4.1.164–65). It is clear that Socrates preserved his moral character until death because he performed only moral deeds. Socrates’ death, however, not only saved him as a moral man, but was also useful for other people. Epictetus asks if we were in the same position as Socrates whether it would be a lapse into wrong philosophizing to conclude that 31. (Hijmans 1959: 63) On Aristotle’s view in detail, see Dieter (2001: 154–67). 32. See Arnim’s Index Latinus in SVF 4. 33. (Lutz 1947: 52 lines 17–18) 34. This is true despite the fact that Epictetus often uses   in the sense of   (Bonhöffer 1894: 198–200).

136

Paul and Epictetus on Law

‘if I save my life I shall be useful to many people’ (Disc. 4.1.167).35 Epictetus answers as follows: If we were useful to men by living, should we not have done much more good to men by dying when we ought, and as we ought? And now that Socrates is dead the memory of him is no less useful to men, nay, is perhaps even more useful, than what he did or said while he still lived (Disc. 4.1.168–169).

Socrates is an example of complete righteousness undamaged even by fear of death. David Seeley is right in claiming that others ‘can remember what Socrates did and gain strength from it, thus mentally re-enacting his death. In the extreme, they can follow it literally’.36 In the same way as Diogenes took troubles and hardships upon himself for the sake of people when fulfilling the law, Socrates died for them. In addition to Diogenes and Socrates, Epictetus presents Heracles as a third example of obedience to law. As a man of mythology, his figure is somewhat different from the other two – we may say more god-like and, at the same time, philosophically more ambiguous. It is well known that Epictetus was very open to religion, but the figure of Heracles shows where the limits of his openness are. In Greek myth Heracles was a man of action who performed unbelievable heroic deeds.37 This tradition is also visible in Epictetus’ telling of Heracles’ fights with a lion, a hydra, a stag, a boar, and with wicked and brutal people (Disc. 1.6.32; 4.10.10). Heracles was also seen as a divine being, a god, or a hēros, that is, a demigod (Herodotus, Hist. 2.44). He was an object of entreaties (e.g., Pindar, Nem. 7.94–97; Homer, Hymns 15.9) and houses were left under his auspices (Diogenes Laertius 6.50).38 From an early era Heracles was also seen as a moral hero, and this side of his figure was essential to Cynics and Stoics, including Epictetus.39 Epictetus presents Heracles as a defender of lawful life in three passages. The first is in Disc. 2.16. Epictetus admonishes his listeners to also remember the focal principles of philosophy outside the school. He presents the principles in the form of a law (sections 27–28) as we have already seen in subsection 2.1.2. The students should lift their necks, look towards God, and promise to be obedient in every matter. Heracles is an example of this attitude.

35. Cf. Musonius Rufus, fragm. 29, transl. by Lutz (1947: 133): ‘One who by living is of use to many has not the right to choose to die unless by dying he may be of use to more’. 36. (Seeley 1990: 127; cf. Bonhöffer 1894: 24) 37. For general material on Heracles, see Galinsky (1972), Guthrie (1977: 235–41), Malherbe (1988: 559–83) and Aune (1990: 4–11; 1992: 141–2). 38. (Aune 1990: 17–18) 39. (Höistad 1948: 22–73; Galinsky 1972: 23–80, 101–84; Aune 1990: 8–11)



7.   Fulfilling the Law

137

(44) If Heracles had sat about at home, what would he have amounted to? He would have been Eurystheus and no Heracles. Come, how many acquaintances and friends did he have with him as he went up and down through the whole world (  )? Nay, he had no dearer friend than God. That is why he was believed to be a son of God, and was. It was therefore in obedience to His will that he went about clearing away wickedness and lawlessness (       ). (45) But you are no Heracles, you say, and you cannot clear away the wickedness of other men, nay, nor are you even a Theseus, to clear away the ills of Attica merely. Very well, clear away your own then. From just here, from out your own mind, cast not Procrustes and Sciron, but grief, fear, desire, envy, joy at others’ ills; cast out greed, effeminacy, incontinency. (46) These things you cannot cast out in any other way than by looking to God alone, being specially devoted to Him only, and consecrated to His commands (   40) (Disc. 2.16.44–46).

Epictetus mentions two heroes in this passage. Heracles cleared away all the lawlessness he encountered in the world, while Theseus cleared away the Attican bandits, like Sciron and Procrustes. Theseus is possibly mentioned because Heracles was his model (Diodorus Siculus, Bibliotheca Historica 4.59.1). Epictetus presents both figures as examples to the students whom he admonished to clear their minds and to obey God’s commands. We meet Heracles again as a defender of law in Disc. 3.24. In this discourse Epictetus argues that it is possible to be happy despite having to move from place to place. Epictetus presents a vice list which is a list of penalties applied by divine law to those who feel homesick (sections 42–3).41 Before that, Epictetus has portrayed Heracles as a defender of law and an exemplary wanderer. (13) It was the fortune of Heracles to traverse the entire inhabited world, (   ) ‘seeing the wanton behavior of men and the lawful’, (     ) casting forth the one and clearing () the world of it, and introducing the other in its place. (14) Yet how many friends do you suppose he had in Thebes, in Argos, in Athens, and how many new friends he made on his rounds (), seeing that he was even in the habit of marrying when he saw fit, and begetting children, and deserting children, without either groaning or yearning for them, or as though leaving them to be orphans? (15) It was because he knew that no human being is an orphan, but all people have ever and constantly the Father, who cares for them. (16) Why, to him it was no mere story which he had heard, that Zeus is father of humanity, for he always thought of Him as his own father, and called Him so, and in all that he did he looked to Him (Disc. 3.24.13–16; transl. revised).

40. In copies of manuscript S, like in Schenkl’s and Oldfather’s editions, the word  is emended to , which would be the correct perfect. The emendation is, however, unnecessary as  and  varied quite freely (Moulton and Howard 1960: 94). 41. See subsection 3.1.2.

138

Paul and Epictetus on Law

The passage repeats many features we saw already in Disc. 2.16.44–46: Heracles wandered around the world, defended the law, and cleared away all immorality. He also had many friends, and he looked to God as his father. The law is mentioned in the slightly modified quotation of Homer (Od. 17.487). Similar themes also come up in a third passage. (31) God does not give me much, no abundance, He does not want me to live luxuriously; He did not give much to Heracles, either, though he was His own son (   ), but someone else was king over Argos and Mycenae, while he was subject, and suffered labors and discipline. (32) And Eurystheus, such as he was, was not king over either Argos or Mycenae, for he was not king even over himself; but Heracles was ruler and leader of all the land and sea (), purging them of injustice and lawlessness, and introducing justice and righteousness (        ); and all this he did naked and by himself (Disc. 3.26.31–32).

Heracles is again presented as a son of God and as a defender of the law who cleared away lawlessness and introduced righteousness. The picture of Heracles as a righteous ruler of the world which we see in these three passages is as old as Pindar (fifth century bce).42 Maximus of Tyre (second century ce) called Heracles ‘the founder of laws’ ( ) (Dissertationes 15.6d). For this reason, rulers often associated themselves with Heracles in their propaganda.43 As a wanderer () Heracles was associated with the Cynics, and for Epictetus he was an ideal Cynic (Disc. 3.22.57).44 The fixed tradition of Heracles is clearly visible in the Epictetan passages already at the level of vocabulary. The Attic forms   and  (Disc. 3.26.31–32) – or at least the former – betray the fact that Epictetus draws upon an older tradition.45 Moreover, the presence of the tradition is proved by the fact that the passages contain information which is unnecessary in their textual contexts. In Disc. 2.16 there is no need to tell that Heracles had many acquaintances and friends as he wandered around the world. In Disc. 3.24 and 3.26 it is unnecessary to tell how Heracles cleared away immorality. These unessential features are there only because they belonged to the inherited tradition. The repetition of the same themes in the passages, even with the same expressions, makes the impression of traditional material even stronger. There are also tensions in Epictetus’ use of tradition. In Disc. 2.16.44 and 3.26.31 he refers to the myth of Heracles’ divine origin as the son of Zeus and Alcmene. In Disc. 3.24.16 Heracles is, however, one among human beings

42. (Galinsky 1972: 35–6) 43. (Toynbee 1951: 370–5; Galinsky 1972: 139; Aune 1990: 9–10) 44. (Höistad 1948: 62) 45. Epictetus also uses the Attic form  (Disc. 3.24.16), which, however, is quite common in Discourses. The form  belongs seemingly to a fixed formula ‘land and sea’, which also occurs in Disc. 3.26.1.



7.   Fulfilling the Law

139

who all have Zeus as their father. Heracles’ vague position between divinity and humanity in Discourses is possibly due to the ambiguities of the tradition itself. More striking is the tension between Heracles’ activity in cleansing the world and Epictetus’ philosophy. How could Heracles – and after him Theseus – clear away the immoralities of other people? As we have seen, it is essential in Epictetus’ philosophy that one can only influence one’s own moral state. Lucretius’ Epicurean conviction led him to also criticize Heracles’ cleansing activity (De Rerum Natura 5.22–48). Epictetus notes the tension, but bypasses it quickly. As none of Epictetus’ listeners is Heracles or Theseus, they can and should get rid only of their own wickedness (Disc. 2.16.45). The tradition does not fit Epictetus’ philosophy, but he uses it to drive home his moral philosophy. In Greek tradition Heracles was a (semi)divine figure who was active all the time. He was a divine object of entreaties, he protected houses, he was believed to be ‘clearing away wickedness and lawlessness’. This piety is echoed in Epictetus’ words, but it acquired distinctly moral overtones. Heracles is no longer a (semi)divine object of entreaties, but a moral example demonstrating that we should commit ourselves to God’s commands as he did. Epictetus’ moral point is obvious in all three texts. In Disc. 2.16 he admonishes his students to cleanse their minds as Heracles cleansed the world. In Disc. 3.24 Heracles is a moral example for a student who has lapsed into homesickness: Heracles did not groan or yearn though he wandered around the world and left behind his children.46 In Disc. 3.26 Epictetus underlines that one should bear difficulties like Heracles, without complaint and in obedience towards God. Epictetus’ accent on morality does not deny his leanings to religion, but demonstrates that his religion has moral overtones in that consecration means commitment to God’s moral commands. Heracles is an example for moral progress.

7.2. Paul: Deeds and Christ 7.2.1. The Works of Law: The Jewish and Philosophical Context For Paul, moral progress is at the same time an enemy and a goal. In this subsection I show how moral progress was an enemy to him. In subsection 7.2.2 I focus on the second aspect. Paul proclaimed justification by faith and spoke against justification by works of law (Rom. 3.20–4.15; 10.5-13; Gal. 2.15–3.14; 5.3-6; Phil. 3.1-11). What did he mean by ‘works of law’? The strong tradition of the Reformation 46. Oldfather (1985: 189 n. 3) notes under this passage that ‘this is about the most drastic bit of idealisation of the Heracles myths which the Stoics, for whom Heracles was a kind of Arthurian knight, ever achieved. The comic poets naturally presented this aspect of his career in a somewhat different light’.

140

Paul and Epictetus on Law

has interpreted them as good works.47 According to this interpretation Judaism was an antipode to Paul’s proclamation, since in Judaism one earned salvation by good works, while Paul proclaimed faith in Christ. James Dunn describes this scholarly stance as follows: Paul’s teaching on justification was seen as a reaction and in opposition to Judaism. As Luther had rejected a medieval church which offered salvation by merit and good works, the same, it was assumed, was true of Paul in relation to the Judaism of his day. Judaism was taken to have been a degenerate religion, legalistic, making salvation dependent on human effort, and self-satisfied with the results.48

Dunn points out that this interpretation of Paul not only created a dark effective history in Jewish-Christian relationships, but also fails to do justice to Paul. The works of law in Paul do not denote good works in general, but only those precepts of the law that maintain covenant distinctiveness, Dunn states. There are several practices – like circumcision and food laws – based on the Torah which separate Jews from gentiles. The works of law protect ‘Israel’s privileged status and restricted prerogative’.49 Dunn admits that in principle ‘works of law’ refers to everything the law requires. In practice, however, some precepts are more in focus when the relationship between Israel and other nations is at stake – and this relationship was at stake during the time of Paul.50 Dunn tries to show in detail that Paul uses the phrase in the situations where the apostle deals with the relationship between gentile and Jewish Christians. According to Dunn, Paul is criticizing Jewish distinctiveness, not the law and its fulfilment as such: Paul is not dealing with a theology of self-achieved righteousness.51 Dunn’s interpretation is attractive, but its weak point is the notion that works of law in principle refer to all that the law requires. If the Jewish–gentile relationship is at stake, it does not change the fact that Paul does not specify his criticism against certain commands. When he speaks about ‘works of law’, he assesses them negatively as a whole. Paul is not criticizing only some commands, but the entire law.52 The only exact parallel for the formula ‘works of law’ is found in 4QMMT. This parallel shows that the formula refers to the Torah as a whole. The author of 4QMMT summarizes the previous halakhic interpretation of the 47. I do not enter into the discussion whether  denotes commandments or performed deeds. On this discussion, see, e.g., Bachmann (2005) and Bergmeier (2005). For my purposes it is enough that both commands and their fulfilment are involved in Paul’s teaching on ‘works of law’, if not just in the expression . 48. (Dunn 1998: 336–7) 49. (Dunn 1998: 355) 50. (Dunn 1998: 358) 51. (Dunn 1998: 359–71) 52. (Räisänen 1992: 122)



7.   Fulfilling the Law

141

Torah by writing, ‘We have written to you some of the works of the Torah (hrwth y#(m tcqm)’ (lines 26–27).53 As regards cultic and purity laws,54 the author makes a specification: one speaks about some precepts. The specification is needed only if the formula ‘works of the Torah’ denotes precepts in general.55 The evidence from 4QMMT reinforces that the formula ‘works of law’ in Paul denotes all the precepts of the Torah. Paul criticizes ‘the works of law’ as a whole, not certain works of law. All the commands of the Torah are seen negatively. If this idea conflicts with Paul’s positive statements on the whole Torah (e.g., Rom. 13.8-10), let it be so. This is what Paul says in Romans and we should take his words as they stand. Quite strikingly, the author of 4QMMT writes, ‘It shall be reckoned to you as righteousness (hqdcl Kl hb#xnw) when you do what is right [and good] before him’ (line 31).56 The author alludes to Gen. 15.6 and Ps. 106.31 as the biblical basis for the right observance of the Torah.57 Paul, in turn, quotes Gen. 15.6 in order to justify his theology of faith as one opposed to the theology of works. ‘Just as Abraham “believed God, and it was reckoned to him as righteousness”, so, you see, those who believe are the descendants of Abraham’ (Gal. 3.6-7). The author of 4QMMT and Paul both use Gen. 15.6 to justify their theologies. Is Paul criticizing the theology of 4QMMT or something like that? No. Paul is criticizing the theology that one can gain salvation through good deeds. According to Heikki Räisänen, Paul ‘ascribes saving value to the works of law within the Jewish system’, meaning that one can gain salvation by observing all the commands. The apostle supposes that the Torah has the same place in Judaism as Christ has in Christian teaching. Therefore one has to choose between faith in Christ and the observance of the Torah.58 Nevertheless, this legalistic soteriology Paul ascribes to Judaism does not fit, say, 4QMMT. 4QMMT does not represent legalism but covenantal nomism. The author of this text believes that one who repents will be taken into the community of God. Works of law are needed only to maintain one’s covenantal status, not to gain it.59 The soteriological difference between 4QMMT and Paul’s description of Judaism can be generalized as a difference between Jewish soteriology and Paul’s description of it.

53. Translated by von Weissenberg (2009: 213). On the right translation of y#(m, see Dunn (1997: 150). 54. (Dunn 1997: 150; von Weissenberg 2009: 215) 55. Cf. Bachmann’s (2005: 88–91, 122–31) summary of the scholarly interpretations. 56. Translated by von Weissenberg (2009: 213). The words in square brackets are missing in the manuscript 4Q399 (von Weissenberg 2009: 213 n. 127). 57. (von Weissenberg 2009: 215–16) 58. (Räisänen 1987: 178) 59. (Abegg 1999: 142–6)

142

Paul and Epictetus on Law

According to Räisänen, no Jewish source from Palestine or from the Diaspora confirms Paul’s picture.60 Friedrich Avemarie states that observance of the Torah was not motivated with future rewards until the third century ce.61 Sanders has found legalistic theology in 4 Ezra, but Räisänen sees this as a misinterpretation.62 If there really is legalistic soteriology in 4 Ezra or in a few other texts, as, for example, Das has supposed,63 it does not change the general picture that ancient Judaism was not legalistic. What, then, is the origin of Paul’s legalistic picture of Judaism? As an answer we can present Sanders’s famous thesis ‘from solution to plight’: Paul’s ‘conclusion that all the world – both Jew and Greek – equally stands in need of a saviour springs from the prior conviction that God had provided such a saviour’.64 As for the law this means that Paul excluded the law as a way to salvation because Christ was now the way. Christ is the centre of Paul’s reasoning in that if Christ saves, then one cannot be saved by works of the law. Otherwise gentiles, who do not obey the Torah, are excluded from salvation. But because they are saved by Christ, the Torah cannot have soteriological value.65 The inclusion of gentiles is Paul’s reason for abolishing Torah observance. According to Räisänen, Paul’s distorted picture of Jewish soteriology is possibly a reaction to conservative Jewish-Christians who demanded observance of the Torah. The polemical situation put so much weight on the question of observance/nonobservance that Paul saw it as a question of salvation: ‘If it was to these people so important to comply with the law, at the cost of the well-being of their Gentile brethren, was the law then not, for all practical purposes, made the cornerstone of salvation?’66 Räisänen adds that this was Paul’s reasoning and it probably differed from that of his opponents. Possibly they did not regard circumcision as a soteriological question. How could Paul as a genuine Jew paint such a distorted picture of Judaism? Whether the distorted picture is painted unconsciously (as Räisänen sees it) or consciously, there must be some truth in it. Paul portrays the soteriology of works as a real (though wrong) option, not as a laughable caricature. The portrayal is credible only if there is some counterpart to it in reality. If Räisänen is right, Paul saw legalism realized in his opponents’ teaching. Besides this, the idea of ‘salvation by works’ can be related to Greco-Roman philosophy. The expression   is surely derived from Jewish usage,67 but its meaning as Paul uses it may be related to the philosophical theory of righteous

60. 61. 62. 63. 64. 65. 66. 67.

(Räisänen 1987: 177–84) (Avemarie 1996: 577–84) (Sanders 1977: 409–18; Räisänen 1987: 180–1) (Das 2001: 69) (Sanders 1977: 443) (Sanders 1977: 474–511) (Räisänen 1987: 260) (Bachmann 2005: 113–14)



7.   Fulfilling the Law

143

ness through righteous deeds. We saw that this philosophical theory was presented in two variations. (1) For those who are morally incomplete, the theory served as a way to progress towards the complete state. (2) Morally complete persons, like Socrates, preserved their complete state through their righteous deeds. The latter variation reminds one of what Paul says about fulfilment of the law as a prerequisite for salvation. In Gal. 3.10 Paul quotes Deut. 27.26 in order to show that salvation by following the law is impossible because of transgressions. The underlying idea is that one should obey every precept of the law in order to attain salvation. Because Paul thinks that such complete obedience is impossible, those who rely on works of the law are under a curse. Surprisingly, Paul forgets God’s grace and forgiveness, and describes salvation as something that requires flawless Torah-obedience. We meet the same idea in Romans 1–3: because all are under the influence of sin, no one can be saved by works of the law.68 The underlying idea is the same as in Gal. 3.10, which suggests that salvation through works would be possible if there were no transgression. Because nobody can flawlessly follow all the precepts (Rom 3.9), no one can be saved by ‘works’. Paul’s argumentation rests on the requirement of the complete fulfilment of the law and on a pessimistic view on the human capability to fulfil the law. Paul’s pessimism is easy to understand in light of Epictetus’ thinking. Epictetus complains that there is no perfect Stoic among them (Disc. 2.19.24–25), yet he was slightly more optimistic than Paul in that some exceptional figures of the past have obeyed divine law in every respect. These exceptions show that it is possible to follow the law without transgression. Socrates is one of Epictetus’ examples of complete obedience to law. He saved ( is used here) himself as a moral man by means of his righteous conduct ( ) (Disc. 4.1.163). The idea has clear similarities with Paul’s salvation-though-works theory which requires complete obedience to every precept of the Torah. According to Epictetus, Socrates did what Paul thought to be impossible. The Torah, of course, is no law of the universe in these texts, but in other passages Paul identifies them with each other (see Chapter 3). Despite this difference the idea of complete obedience is similar in Paul and in Epictetus. Another difference between Paul and Epictetus is the meaning of ‘salvation’. The word has an overtone of eschatological reward in Paul, while in Epi­ ctetus it means the maintenance of moral character. Yet we have philosophical texts (though not by Epictetus) which speak about rewards in the hereafter, for instance, the tenth book of Plato’s Republic. Thus the difference between the meaning of ‘salvation’ in Paul and in Epictetus is no reason to deny the existence of philosophical influence in Paul. Righteousness-through-righteous deeds theory was common in ancient philosophy. 68. (Räisänen 1987: 94–101)

144

Paul and Epictetus on Law

Epictetus clearly presents the idea that salvation is possible only through complete obedience to the law. This is just what Paul ascribes to in his salvationby-works theory when he overlooks God’s grace and mercy, which were central in covenantal nomism. Paul clearly misrepresents Jewish piety in a way that reminds one of Greco-Roman philosophy. Of course, Paul was not resisting any philosophy but that of his Jewish Christian opponents. His accusation, however, seems to echo a philosophical theory. Pointing out the Greco-Roman context may seem a novel point in the discussion on works of law. It is, indeed, if we look only at the modern scholarly discussion. However, we may note that this point was already made by Martin Luther.69 As far as I see, no modern scholar seems to have noted this though Luther haunts nearly every modern Pauline study.70 Yet I do not mean that Luther understood Paul correctly. Paul’s ‘works’ do not include Aristotle’s philosophy or any philosophy as such. Paul just seemed to use a philosophical idea to sketch Jewish Torah piety as a disadvantageous option. A philosophical idea happened to appear to him to be rhetorically helpful in this project.

7.2.2. The Christian Way of Life and Philosophical Progress If modern scholarship has failed to read Paul’s words on works of law in the light of Epictetus or Greco-Roman philosophy in general, the converse is not true. Epictetus has been measured along Pauline standards. In an early article, Rudolf Bultmann states that Epictetus had a religion, but not one that elevates the adherents from legalism (‘Gesetzlichkeit’), lets them live for God, and makes them free.71 It is clear that Bultmann compares Epictetus with Paul, though the article is meant to be a comparison between Epictetus and the whole of the New Testament. Is Bultmann fair to Epictetus? Johannes Carl Gretenkord points out that Stoics did not try to elevate people from so-called legalism. On the contrary, they taught tirelessly that one has to obey the laws of nature, and that this was the way to freedom. When one obeys voluntarily, obedience is not a compulsion but a free choice. Gretenkord rightly notes that the standards in Bultmann’s analysis come from Paul.72 As Vollenweider has said, for Epictetus law is God’s great gift and a reason to give thanks.73 69. When Luther discusses the right understanding of ‘the “righteousness based upon the law” or “upon deeds” ’, he states that ‘we are not, as Aristotle believes, made righteous by doing righteous deeds, unless we deceive ourselves’ (Letter 9 in Luther’s Works 48: 23–6). He also touched on the issue in certain theses of Disputation Against Scholastic Theology (1517): ‘40. We do not become righteous by doing righteous deeds but, having been made righteous, we do righteous deeds. This in opposition to the philosophers. 41. Virtually the entire Ethics of Aristotle is the worst enemy of grace. This in opposition to the scholastics’ (Luther’s Works 31: 12). 70. For Luther in Pauline studies, see Westerholm (2004). 71. (Bultmann 1912: 182) 72. (Gretenkord 1981: 217–18) 73. (Vollenweider 1989: 35–7)

7.   Fulfilling the Law



145

Epictetus requires complete obedience to the divine law in order to be ‘saved’, but this moral ideal was in fact unattainable. Only a few idealized or mythical figures are presented as morally perfect, while for the majority even a little progress was good: ‘We must be satisfied, if we succeed in escaping at least a few faults’ (Disc. 4.12.19). The problem of nonfulfilment was always present and created a tension between moral ideals and factually attainable morality. This is just the situation Paul ascribes to the Christians. They should obey the law completely, but this ideal has not yet been realized. We can return to Romans 7 which I analysed in Chapter 6. In Romans 7, obedience to the law is nothing negative. The law is not sin (Rom. 7.7), but ‘holy, and the commandment is holy and just and good’ (Rom. 7.13). The problem of the non-Christian ‘I’ is not the law, but the nonfulfilment of the law. Fortunately, God has made such fulfilment possible for Christians. (3) For God has done what the law, weakened by the flesh, could not do: by sending his own Son in the likeness of sinful flesh, and to deal with sin, he condemned sin in the flesh, (4) so that the just requirement of the law might be fulfilled in us, who walk not according to the flesh but according to the Spirit (Rom 8.3–4).

Paul maintains that Christians can fulfil the requirements of the Torah and that they should do that.74 This is by no means an exceptional claim for Paul (Rom. 3.31; 13.8-10; Gal. 5.13-23). He thinks that Christian morality is in accordance with the law. The morality Paul advocates in Romans 8 has cognitive elements that remind one of Epictetus’ Stoic moral theory. As we saw in Chapter 6, the Fall of the ‘I’ is due to a lack of knowledge (Rom. 7.7-13) which is followed by the painful consciousness of slavery under sin (Rom. 7.14-25). Paul describes the miserable state of the non-Christian ‘I’ in Stoic and apocalyptical veins. In Romans 8 we meet similar veins when Paul speaks about the right set of mind and the wrong set of mind: (5) For those who live according to the flesh set their minds on the things of the flesh (   ), but those who live according to the Spirit set their minds on the things of the Spirit. (6) To set the mind on the flesh is death (     ), but to set the mind on the Spirit is life and peace (       ). (7) For this reason the mind that is set on the flesh (   ) is hostile to God; it does not submit to God’s law – indeed it cannot, (8) and those who are in the flesh cannot please God.

The dichotomy between the two sets of mind is very similar to what Epictetus says in Disc. 1.3.75 Epictetus exhorts one to understand oneself as a divine being in the first place, not as flesh. Flesh-minded people suffer emotionally from the mortality of the body, while the understanding of the self as a divine 74. (Räisänen 1987: 66–7) 75. See subsection 6.1.2.

146

Paul and Epictetus on Law

being makes one happy. This anthropological dichotomy is a sine qua non for Epictetus’ morality of happiness. Similarly, in Paul we find that ‘to set the mind on the Spirit is life and peace’ (Rom. 8.6) – an emotionally harmonious state in contrast to the former () fear (Rom. 8.15). Heinrich Schlier aptly explains that in the light of Romans 6–7, fear means anxiety (‘Angst’) caused by imminent death.76 Identification with the mortal body causes fear while identification with the Spirit makes one happy. Thus, ‘set of mind’ means an established understanding, not only casual thinking.77 This reminds one of Epictetus’ reasoning. In Paul, however, happiness presumes the apocalyptic Spirit: non-Christians cannot ‘set the mind on the Spirit’, because they have not received the Spirit. Only Christians can ‘set the mind’ on the divine essence, and only their minds can submit to God’s law. Epictetus, in turn, ascribes the divine essence to humanity by birth. Paul’s morality of happiness is a blend of Stoic and apocalyptic elements. A great difference between Paul and Epictetus is related to the prerequisites for morality in external conditions. For Paul it is essential that mortality be eliminated: the Spirit will give life to mortal bodies (Rom. 8.11). The apocalyptic turn is coming and one can anticipate it by living in accordance with the Spirit. Epictetus sees nothing wrong in our external conditions, only our thoughts are wrong. Death is approaching, but Epictetus still believes in a happy life because happiness is merely a matter of right thinking, not a matter of external things. This is different from Paul.78 Despite the cognitive element in Paul’s morality, there is still a tie between happiness and the conditions of life. ‘To set the mind on the Spirit is life and peace’ refers to the life and peace that await in the future. The life and peace of this life are just a foretaste of the salvation to come, real life and peace.79 An experience of life and peace in this aeon does not mean that Christians do not suffer. Paul states that ‘we suffer with him’, i.e., with Christ (Rom. 8.17),80 76. (Schlier 1977: 252) Fitzmyer (1993: 499; cf. Barrett 1957: 163; Moo 1996: 500) also understands fear in light of Rom. 7, but explains it as fear felt by a slave before his or her master. This explanation fits well with Schlier’s if we understand death as a divine punishment for sin. Dunn (1988: 460, cf. 452) takes fear as ‘a fear of failing to match up to a standard of exact obedience’ in the eyes of fellow Pharisees. 77. (Dunn 1988: 425; cf. Käsemann 1973: 209) 78. Cf. Bonhöffer (1911: 348), who sees this difference between Epictetus and the whole of the New Testament. 79. Cf. Käsemann (1973: 209) and Moo (1996: 489), who take life and peace to mean future salvation and refer to Rom. 2.7-10 and 14.17. The latter verse is an argument for a harmonious life in the Christian community. Thus the righteousness, peace and joy in the Kingdom of God should reflect back into the present life. 80. There is no reference to death in baptism (cf. Rom. 6.3-5) as the present tense shows (Cranfield 1975: 408; Wilckens 1980: 138; Dunn 1988: 456).



7.   Fulfilling the Law

147

and groan () while waiting for the redemption of bodies (Rom. 8.23). There is even a list of afflictions (Rom. 8.35-9), but eschatological hope saves Christians from despair, for ‘sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing’ with the future glory (Rom. 8.19). It is even possible to see that ‘all things work together for good’, as all know ()81 (Rom. 8.28). Suffering, like everything else, has its place in the eschatological plans. This sounds much like an apocalyptical version of Stoic providential theology (Marcus Aurelius, Med. 4.23; cf. Rom. 11.36). In Romans 8 Paul does not explain how suffering works for good. He has dealt with this already in Romans 5 where he says that Christians have obtained grace. They boast in their ‘hope of sharing the glory of God’ and even in their sufferings (Rom. 5.2-3). Now Paul invokes the common Christian knowledge () ‘that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope’ (Rom. 5.3-4). Hope is firm because the Spirit is poured into Christian hearts (Rom. 5.5). Epictetus would surely have accepted Paul’s idea of boasting about suffering. This is exactly what Diogenes did (Disc. 3.22.59). Paul’s idea that difficulties help to produce an enduring character would also have seemed right to Epictetus. Difficulties play a central role in Epictetus’ teaching about moral training. Paul clearly makes use of the idea of moral progress which Epictetus also embraced. Again, Paul combines the philosophical ideas with apocalypticism, from which stems the idea of an eschatological hope in the Spirit; this idea would have seemed strange to Epictetus.82 When Paul claims in Romans 8 that suffering works for good, he probably has in mind something similar to his thought about moral training expressed in Romans 5. The morality of happiness and the value of moral training are ideas shared by Epictetus. We meet the same ideas also in Romans 6. There the morality is based on the understanding of the Christians, not on the authority of the law. Christians are not under the law ( ), but they are not free to sin (Rom. 6.15) and not free to serve lawlessness ( ) (Rom. 6.19). It is clear that Paul has not the ‘ritual’ but moral precepts in mind, though he did not explicate this – or even acknowledge it. Christians should live in accordance with the law – whatever it means in practice – but not because the law says so. Engberg-Pedersen puts it nicely: Romans 6 is important for showing just this: that the category of ‘Thou shalt’ has been exchanged for the one of ‘I (or rather, we) will’. When baptized Christ-believers do what they should, they do it because they themselves want to… This is perhaps the place where Paul is most comprehensively and fundamentally in line with Stoicism

81. The word  denotes a commonly known thing in Paul as it does in some other texts (e.g., Gen. 50.20; Sir. 39.27; Plato, Apol. 41c–d) (Cranfield 1975: 424 n. 1; Wilckens 1980: 151, 162; Dunn 1988: 481). 82. (Cf. Dunn 1988: 251–2)

148

Paul and Epictetus on Law as against any (theological) reading of Paul that stresses that Christ-believers will do what they must (to the extent that they do it) because they must, because God orders them to do it or the like. Such an idea goes directly against what Paul aims to say.83

As we saw in Chapter 6, Epictetus thinks that right knowledge is the starting point for conducting a moral life in accordance with God’s law. Epictetus’ moral exhortation does not rest on the authority of the law, but on the understanding that it is good to live in accordance with law. Similarly, Paul does not evoke the Torah, but the Christian consciousness of freedom from sin in order to recommend a life in accordance with the law. Paul rests as little on the authority of the law in his moral exhortation as does Epictetus. The philosophical understanding of morality makes it possible at the same time to claim freedom from an authority, in Paul’s case the law, and to require a life in accordance with the standards of that authority. While not expressing it explicitly, Paul seems to think of morality and not the ‘ritual’ content of the law. This accent makes it natural to adopt thoughts from philosophical morality. Paul’s argumentation is structured by the temporal sequence consisting of past slavery under sin, present freedom, and future salvation. In the preChristian past one’s old self was enslaved to sin (Rom. 6.6, 17, 20); it presented its members as slaves to impurity and to greater and greater lawlessness (Rom. 6.19); and it bore a fruit that is shameful from the Christian perspective (Rom. 6.21). Christians are freed from the compulsion of sin because they are baptized. Now they can and should live without sin (Rom. 6.1-4). Baptism and the death of Christ are comparable and thus Christians have become capable of avoiding sin. Christians died with Christ in baptism in order that they ‘might no longer be enslaved (  ) to sin’ (Rom. 6.6). This points out the goal and the possibility, not the reality.84 The eschatological change, however, is not yet completed, but still going on. In the future, Christians will be () in the likeness of the resurrection of Christ, and they will live with () Christ (Rom. 6.5, 8).85 Paul thinks that Christians are in an interim period. They 83. (Engberg-Pedersen 2000: 239; original emphasis) 84. The very formulation with the  and the present tense, implies that the possibility of the believer’s continuing to serve sin is very real’ (Dunn 1988: 320, original emphasis; cf. Schmidt 1963; Murray 1967: 221; Moo 1996: 376 n. 123; Engberg-Pedersen 2000: 232). Despite his different interpretation of this verse, Schlier (1977: 198) sees that Paul acknowledged the possibility of sin among Christians. 85. The verbs in the future tense are sometimes understood as gnomic (e.g., Cranfield 1975: 308, 312; Fitzmyer 1993: 435, 437). Dunn (1988: 318) rightly comments, ‘Had he wanted to indicate the thought of a sharing in Christ’s resurrection as something which had already taken place or was already in effect, he would have had to use an aorist or perfect or present tense’. Note also that  is paralleled with perfect tense  in Rom. 6.5 which is intentional: Christians have died and been freed from sin, but are still in the state of ‘death’ and waiting for the coming life. There is one gnomic future in Romans 6, namely in 6.2, as the context clearly shows.



7.   Fulfilling the Law

149

are freed from sin in baptism, but still waiting for the final glory. Thus, sin is always lurking and moral exhortation has its place. The consciousness of baptism and future glory gives a basis for Paul’s exhortation. ‘Do you not know …’ () (Rom. 6.3), he asks rhetorically and refers to baptism as the basis for morality. Later he introduces his reasoning on morality based on baptism by saying ‘We know’ (86/ ) (Rom. 6.6, 9). Baptism itself is not enough for a moral lifestyle. The cognitive element is also needed. The baptized should identify themselves with Christ and, thus, as Engberg-Pedersen aptly notes, baptism ‘is also a matter of the understanding, in fact a piece of self-identification, on the part of the baptized person’.87 The cognitive element in Paul’s moral teaching becomes clear when he gives the reminder that Christ died to sin and lives for God (Rom. 6.9-10). Similarly, Christians should consider () themselves as dead to sin, but alive to God (Rom. 6.11). For this reason they should avoid sin in their lives. Christians should fulfil moral standards as if they already lived in the future life like those raised from death (Rom. 6.13). Their lifestyle is based on a reasoning () of hope, not on the present situation. Paul argues that the heavenly state of Christ provides the moral standard. Just as Christ was raised from death, so Christians too should ‘walk () in the newness of life’ (Rom. 6.4). Christ’s resurrection not only anticipates the general resurrection (Rom 6.5), but also gives a standard for living in the present aeon.88 Paul clearly assumes that Christians will consciously imitate the ideal state. He goes so far as even to present this ideal state as a fact among Christians. He compares past immorality and present morality in the same way as Epictetus. But thanks be to God (   ) that you, having once been slaves of sin ( ), have become obedient from the heart to the example of teaching to which you were entrusted (Rom. 6.17; transl. revised).

There was a time when I too made mistakes (), but now no longer, thanks be to God (  ) (Disc. 4.4.7; transl. revised).

86. The participle can be understood in the sense of the indicative (e.g., Wilckens 1980: 16 n. 55; Moo 1996: 372) or the imperative (Schlier 1977: 196–7). Anyway, it evokes knowledge. 87. (Engberg-Pedersen 2000: 229) Engberg-Pedersen (2000: 230; cf. Seeley 1990: 101) also points out that Paul sees a metaphorical element in baptism which is an analogue () to Christ’s death (Rom. 6.5). 88. Zeller 1985: 124. It is somewhat uncertain whether Paul really interprets Christ’s resurrection as a moral example in Rom. 6.4. The aorist subjunctive () is close to the future tense (Smyth 1984: 414 [§ 1860]) and it is possible that Paul refers to the coming eschatological life. This is, however, improbable as the verb  refers most naturally to the Christian life in this aeon (Rom. 8.4; 13.13; 14.15) and it has a moral meaning in the Jewish Scriptures (Cranfield 1975: 305; Dunn 1988: 315–16; Umbach 1999: 243). This meaning is also known in Greco-Roman literature as Epictetus shows in Disc. 1.18.20 (Schlier 1977: 194).

150

Paul and Epictetus on Law

Both Paul and Epictetus say that a person can completely avoid sinning. According to Paul, Christians have become ‘obedient from the heart’ which means complete obedience.89 Epictetus is clear that the ‘I’ no longer makes mistakes. The idea of past immorality and present morality is shared by Paul and Epictetus, and both give thanks to God for the change. Yet the sharp difference between past and present is theoretical. As we have seen in Chapter 6, Epictetus’ ‘I’ is rhetorical. He does not really claim to be morally faultless. In principle, moral perfection is possible, but in fact it is rare. Only a few figures, like Diogenes, Socrates and Heracles, have achieved it. We also find the tension between ideal and real morality in Paul: the ideal of Christian life is hard to attain due to the fact that Christians do not yet live the resurrected life. The tension between ideal and reality becomes concrete in moral exhortation. Paul and Epictetus remind their audiences of the moral knowledge which they do have. The aim is to make the audience more conscious of the morality required by their state. This, however, is not enough. The Pauline Christians and Epictetus’ audience know what is right, but this knowledge does not always become concrete in deeds. According to Epictetus, the reason for this is bad habit. Paul gives no reason for the knowledge–action gap among Christians, though he knows the effect of habituation (1  Cor. 8.7). The idea of habituation, however, is present in Rom. 5.3-4: suffering produces endurance. This is exactly Epictetus’ idea of how training habituates one to endure. It also makes sense in Romans 6.

7.2.3. Christ as a Moral Example Epictetus found examples of perfect morality in Diogenes, Socrates and Heracles. They were fully obedient to the divine law. There is only one figure comparable to them in Paul, namely Christ. In the following, I compare Christ in Romans 5–8 with Epictetus’ exemplary figures, paying particular attention to the relationship between the law and the personages. In a sense, Heracles had a special position compared with Socrates and Diogenes. Heracles was more than a moral example; he was a demigod still living and actively affecting life in the world. Though this side of his figure is downplayed in Epictetus’ descriptions, the remnants of it are still present. This makes him a closer analogy to the Pauline Christ than to Socrates or Diogenes. The analogy between Christ and Heracles can be already seen in the designation ‘son of God’, which is used to refer to Heracles’ and to Christ’s special positions above other people (Disc. 2.16.44; 3.26.31 and, e.g., Rom. 8.4) – though both Paul and Epictetus can also describe all people as children of God (Disc. 3.24.16; Rom. 8.14). In Romans 6, Paul presents the risen Lord as a moral example to Christians and combines this idea with baptism (Rom. 6.4). He turns a ‘sacramental’ 89. (Engberg-Pedersen 2000: 233)

7.   Fulfilling the Law



151

understanding of baptism into a moral one.90 Christians are dead to sin like Christ and therefore they should live in the newness of life like Christ. Paul even says explicitly that Christ is a moral example ( ) (Rom. 6.17). The expression   does not denote any fixed doctrine or Christian teaching as many scholars think.91 Had Paul thought about a fixed doctrine or teaching he would only have spoken of teaching or doctrine, not of an example of teaching. Dunn points out that there was not yet any fixed Christian teaching at the time of Paul which could have been referred to as a generally known fact. We can also note that  nearly always refers to a person in the Pauline epistles. This is also the case in the previous chapter of Romans in which the  is Adam (Rom. 5.14). The expression   most naturally denotes ‘Christ as the pattern for Christian parenesis or the model for Christian conduct’.92 Paul presents Christ as a moral example in Rom. 6.17. Moral exemplariness is shown in obedience to God and his law. Heracles obeyed Zeus and his commands (Disc. 2.16.44–46) in the same way that Christ obediently fulfilled the act of righteousness () – the same word denotes God’s decree in Rom. 1.32 and 8.4 – in contrast to Adam’s trespass which was multiplied by law (Rom. 5.18-20). An exemplary morality means that one follows God’s law. This obedience is more conspicuous when it is noticed that both Heracles and Christ were thrown into hardships put before them by their divine fathers. God ‘did not withhold his own son, but gave him up’ (Rom. 8.32). Christians can identify in their sufferings with Christ’s suffering (Rom. 8.17). Similarly Epictetus exhorts his students to see their hard life in the light of Heracles’ lot: ‘God does not give me much, no abundance, He does not want me to live luxuriously; He did not give much to Heracles, either, though he was His own son’ (Disc. 3.26.31; transl. revised). The significance of Christ and Heracles is not limited to the life of an individual. They are significant worldwide. Heracles cleared away wickedness and lawlessness (Disc. 2.16.44; 3.24.13; 3.26.32) as does Christ in the deuteroPauline Tit. 2.14. We do not find such a close analogy in Paul’s original epistles, but it is clear that Christ has a worldwide effect when breaking the bondage of sin (Rom. 5.15-21). Through Christ’s liberating activity the ‘just requirement of the law’ (   ) can be fulfilled (Rom. 8.4). Similarities between the Pauline Christ and the Epictetan Heracles are probably not coincidental. Heraclean traditions were well known in antiquity.93 It is possible that Paul’s portrayal of Christ is partially made up of traditional ele 90. 91. 168). 92. 93.

(Zeller 1985: 124) E.g., Käsemann (1973: 171), Schlier (1977: 209), Morris (1988: 263) and Ziesler (1989: (Dunn 1988: 343–4) (Bonhöffer 1911: 71)

152

Paul and Epictetus on Law

ments from the ancient portrayals of heroes.94 The Epictetan Heracles, however, lacks one significant aspect of the Pauline Christ, which is death on behalf of other people. Christ died ‘for us’ (Rom. 5.8; cf. 5.6-7; 8.32), he gave himself as a sin offering ( ) (Rom. 8.3), and Christians are justified by his blood (Rom. 5.9). These ideas are clearly connected with the decrees on sin offering ( ) in Leviticus 16.95 Christ is the sin offering who was sent from heaven ‘so that the just requirement of the law might be fulfilled in us’ (Rom. 8.3-4). Pohlenz, a distinguished scholar of Stoicism, noted that ‘this theological construction was entirely non-Hellenistic’.96 We should, however, not conclude that vicarious death was an unknown concept among mainstream Greeks.97 Although this aspect is absent in the Epictetan figure of Heracles, Epictetus does connect it with Diogenes and Socrates. Socrates died for a common cause (Disc. 4.1.168), and gave an example of his readiness to obey the law under any circumstances. Diogenes was ready to die for the world, had this been necessary (Disc. 4.1.154). It was unnecessary, but he helped people otherwise by bearing ‘troubles and physical hardships for the sake of humankind’ (Disc. 3.24.64). Socrates’ death for humankind was not a sin offering, but a moral example of obedience. David Seeley points out that in antiquity this kind of vicarious death was widely known both among Jews and gentiles.98 He thinks that Paul interpreted Christ’s death in just this way, as a moral example. As we have seen, exemplariness is present in Romans 6, where Paul parallels Christ’s death and baptism. Christians die to sin in baptism the way Christ died, and they should be sinless like the heavenly Christ. Seeley, however, notes that baptism cannot be understood only in moral terms: ‘Perhaps such a strange and perplexing event could not be fully explicated’.99 We cannot say that the Pauline Christ is only a moral example. The element of moral bravery is present in the Pauline figure of Christ, but this side does not replace Christ as the risen Lord. The Pauline Christ is a living being who is still actively affecting external conditions. In this sense, Christ is a figure comparable to the Heracles of Greek religion who was believed to be capable of changing unwanted external conditions. This is in conflict with the Stoic conviction that there is nothing wrong with the world, but with our thoughts about it. Stoics, like Epictetus, would be even more offended at the apocalyptical view about the power of sin which Christ destroyed. They would not acknowledge such a power, and thus no Christ is needed to set people free.



94. 95. 96. 97. 98. 99.

(Cf. Aune 1990: 19) (Dunn 1998: 212–23) (Pohlenz 1949b: 70. Cf. Schunack 1967: 96 n. 67) (Jones 1987: 49–51) (Seeley 1990: 124–9) (Seeley 1990: 148)



7.   Fulfilling the Law

153

Yet, once a Christian is set free, he or she must use this freedom and live morally. At this point Paul comes closer to Epictetus. The moral use of freedom is a mental process where Christ has his place as a moral example. In this sense the Pauline figure of Christ is analogical to Heracles, Socrates and Diogenes as portrayed by Epictetus.100 Paul identifies obedience to the law with Christian morality. Thus the connections between Paul’s moral exhortation and Stoic ethics also have significance for our understanding of Pauline law. Though the Greco-Roman components of Pauline moral teaching are widely acknowledged, the implications for Paul’s understanding of law have been left unnoticed.

100. (Cf. Bonhöffer 1911: 326)

Conclusion I have sought to show that despite the massive academic industry on Paul and the law, the topic has not yet been exhausted. In recent decades Paul’s relationship with covenantal nomism has been under lively discussion. Today, scholars are discussing how we should see the relation between Paul’s thinking and covenantal nomism. However, there is a relatively widespread consensus that covenantal nomism was an essential part of Paul’s Jewish heritage, and I think that scholars have already reaped the best fruits of the approach which Sanders began in the 1970s. Now we have to look at a new path – not in order to replace the earlier perspective, but to complement our picture of Paul’s teaching on law from the perspective of Greco-Roman philosophy. Stoicism permeated the intellectual milieu during the first centuries ce. Many educated Jews were also influenced by Stoicism, but rather than compare Paul with his Jewish contemporaries I have preferred a comparison with Epi­ ctetus, a gentile Stoic philosopher. A comparison with a Jew always involves the question whether similar features are due to a common Jewish background rather than commonalities in philosophy. Epictetus undoubtedly presents Stoic philosophy. I have regarded it as methodologically important that both Paul and Epi­ ctetus are allowed to speak in their own voices without making everything Stoic or Christian. I used a comparative procedure open both to differences and to similarities. I have carefully read the passages in which Epictetus speaks of law in order to get a comprehensive picture of his thinking about law. The Epictetan excerpts I have presented were interpreted in the context of his philosophy. The Pauline passages, in turn, are interpreted on their own, and then they are compared with Epictetus. This methodological procedure is aimed at preventing inaccurate and uncontrolled comparisons. Yet I have written out the comparisons in the same sections in which I analyse the Pauline passages. This was a matter of delivery, not of methodology. It is more convenient to read the comparisons immediately in the context of analyses of Pauline passages than in a separate section where we would have to review the results of both analyses of Paul and of Epictetus. Methodologically I have analysed Paul on his own. When scholars speak about Pauline law, they usually think about Paul’s sayings on the Torah. This is a narrow perspective. In Chapter 2 I have shown that ‘the commandments of God’ (1 Cor. 7.19) do not necessarily refer to the Torah but to Stoic universal law. This result is yielded by the textual context



Conclusion

155

where Paul admonishes Christians to stay in their social positions. I found striking parallels between various expressions in Paul and Epictetus. Moreover, Paul presumed the theory of value which is the heart of Epictetus’ Stoic moral teaching. In this context ‘the commandments of God’ naturally mean the requirements with regard to social positions. Epictetus saw social positions as God-given. I also proved that Stoic features are important in Paul’s sayings on law in 1 Corinthians 9, in which he interprets the Torah with Stoic methods. In Chapter 3 I showed that there are many more Stoic elements in Romans 1 and 2 than have previously been realized. Scholars have usually maintained that Stoic influence is visible in Paul’s natural theology (Rom. 1.19-20) and in his claim on the natural knowledge of the Torah (Rom. 2.14). Stoic elements, however, are far more comprehensively present than as sporadic ideas. The story of gentile degeneration (Rom. 1.18-32) presumes Stoic cognitive ethics: gentiles are intellectually degenerated, which leads to vicious deeds. Though Paul’s list of vices is different from Epictetus’ vice lists, the theoretical framework of Paul’s list is Stoic. Paul interpreted God’s wrath and the punishments for the vices along the lines of Epictetus’ divine law. Paul’s condemnation of homosexual practice bears clear connotations with the Stoic version of the law of nature, in contrast to Plato’s version. In this context, ‘God’s decree’ is likely a variation of the Stoic law of nature to which Paul clearly refers in Rom. 2.14. The comparison between Paul and Epictetus in Chapter 4 did not prove Paul’s dependence on Stoicism. We saw that theories on the weak and the strong were common in the philosophical tradition of antiquity. In this case, Epictetus provides an apt window onto ancient intellectual thinking. My analysis proved that Greco-Roman philosophy provided Paul with tools for understanding and settling disputes around the Torah. I also showed that, unlike what several scholars have supposed, love, which Paul presents as a crystallization of the Torah, does not draw a line between Stoic and Christian ethics. In Chapter 5 I compared Epictetus’ and Paul’s views on marriage and on the state laws. Paul’s ethics on marriage and sex turned out to contain elements that closely resemble Epictetus’ view on the marriage of an ideal Cynic. Paul’s ‘cultic’ ideas of sexual purity do not necessarily originate in the Torah. Such ideas were general, as Epictetus proves when he makes a link between sexual purity and the law. Both Paul and Epictetus were heading for difficulties in justifying marriage ethics using the law. The comparison between Paul’s and Epictetus’ views on state laws proved a difference within a remarkably similar framework. According to Romans 13, the current political structure embodies God’s ordinance. Paul’s thought presumes an idea which is similar to Epictetus’ law of God: ‘Let the stronger always prevail over the weaker’ (Disc. 1.29.13, 19). Like Josephus, Paul straightforwardly assumes that political and military superiority embodies God’s ordinance which requires loyalty to the stronger without criticism. Therefore, both God’s law on love (Rom. 13.9) and violence on the part of the authorities represent

156

Paul and Epictetus on Law

God’s will. Epictetus does not accept the idea that physical superiority also establishes a moral superiority. He plays down the moral significance of violent means. Both Paul and Epictetus started from the idea of the superiority of the stronger, but they drew different conclusions. Though Paul’s view differs from the Stoic views, my comparison revealed Paul’s affinities with Greco-Roman political philosophy. These affinities are reflected in God’s decree (Rom. 13.2) and in love as a crystallization of the Torah (Rom. 13.9). Chapter 6 demonstrates that Paul’s famous I-passage (Rom. 7.7-25) owes much to Stoic anthropology and psychology. Paul’s holistic anthropology differs from Plato’s sharp anthropological dualism, but resembles Epictetus’ anthropology. Both Paul and Epictetus distinguished body and soul, but only conceptually. In this conceptual dichotomy, identification with the body is morally evil while identification with the soul is good. Paul also presupposes the Stoic psychological idea of a unified soul. Unlike Plato, he does not postulate a lower part of the soul from which immoral urges originate. Instead, Paul saw the reason for vice in the lack of knowledge. This was Epictetus’ Stoic position. Yet the idea of sin as a supernatural power turns Paul’s thought on a track that is a blend of Stoicism and apocalypticism. This fact, however, does not diminish the Stoic elements in the ‘I’-passage. Moreover, Epictetus’ use of the first person presents a good analogy for Paul’s ‘I’ as a rhetorical device. In this matrix, the Torah also gets a Stoic colouring. In Rom. 7.7-13, Paul associates a pre-Mosaic law with the Torah. This pre-Mosaic law is easily understood as the Stoic natural law (cf. Rom. 2.14). Moreover, Paul’s description of opposing laws (Rom. 7.21-5) has a quite close analogy in Disc. 1.13.5. Both use the laws to describe an anthropological and moral dichotomy. I sketched Epictetus’ ideas of moral progress in Chapter 7. According to Epi­ ctetus, one should put the right philosophical ideas into use and practise them. He maintained that righteous conduct is the only way to become a righteous person. This idea has similarities with the theology Paul criticizes as ‘works of law’. The expression ‘works of law’ is surely Jewish, but the idea that salvation is attained by complete obedience is alien to Jewish covenantal nomism, which included God’s grace and forgiveness. Paul’s idea of works has a counterpart in ‘righteous through righteous deeds’ morality, generally accepted in GrecoRoman philosophy. It is possible that Paul’s picture of the theology of works has philosophical echoes. In Chapter 7 I also showed that the idea of moral progress was not only a target of Paul’s criticism. His moral exhortation also had affinities with Epi­ ctetus’ views on moral training: the cognitive elements, happiness as a goal, difficulties in producing endurance, and a wavering between the moral ideal and reality. Paul links these ideas with the Torah. Thus Paul makes the Torah an advocate of his Stoic-coloured morality. There are also similarities between Paul’s figure of Christ and Epictetus’ figure of Heracles. Both Christ and Heracles are portrayed as examples of living in accordance with the law.



Conclusion

157

The comparison has shown that Paul’s treatment of law cannot be described as either Stoic or non-Stoic. It is not a question of either-or, but of extent: to what extent does Stoicism play a part in Paul’s sayings on law? 1 Corinthians 7 and Romans 1–2 and 7 have clear Stoic elements while other analysed texts bear less visible witness to a Stoic influence. Yet, in any Pauline text I have analysed, Stoic components are linked with non-Stoic material. The usual links are with apocalypticism and with the Torah. At the same time, Paul’s non-Stoic elements are not always due to his Jewishness. This became clear in the comparison between Paul’s and Epictetus’ attitude to the state law. Paul and Epictetus differed in their views on violence. The comparison, however, revealed Paul’s non-Stoic points of contact with Greco-Roman political philosophy. The analysis of Paul’s attitude on the state law proved that a comparison between Paul and Epictetus not only opens a window on Stoic ideas but also on the intellectual landscape of the first centuries ce. Similarly, the issue of the weak and the strong turned out to be general in Greco-Roman philosophy. The analysis of the ethics of righteousness in Epictetus led us to the rich tradition of this motive in ancient philosophical teaching. Thus, my study revealed that Paul’s teaching on law has affinities with Greco-Roman philosophy in general. My comparison between Paul and Epictetus has not exhausted the issue; there is a rich field for further comparisons with other philosophers and schools.

Bibliography Sources

Achilles Tatius, Achilles Tatius. Trans. S. Gaselee. LCL. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1984. Aelian, Historical Miscellany. Trans. N. G. Wilson. LCL. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1997. Aristotle, The Nichomachen Ethics. Trans. H. Rackham. LCL. London: Heinemann, 1962. —Politics. Trans. H. Rackham. LCL. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1977. —On Sophistical Refutations, On Coming-to-be and Passing-away, On the Cosmos. Trans. E. S. Forster and D. J. Furley. LCL. London: Harvard University Press, 1992. —The ‘Art’ of Rhetoric. Trans. J. H. Freese. LCL. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1994. —Metaphysics, Books I–IX. Trans. H. Tredennick. LCL. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1996. Arnim, I. ab (ed.), Stoicorum Veterum Fragmenta 1–4. Leipzig: B.G. Teubner, 1903–24. Athenaeus, The Deipnosophists, vols 2 and 6. Trans. C. B. Gulick. LCL. London: Heinemann, 1957–9. Augustine, Confessions. Trans. W. Watts. LCL. London: Heinemann, 1960–61. Bihlmeyer, K. (ed.), Die Apostolischen Väter. Neubearbeitung der funkschen Ausgabe von Karl Bihlmeyer, vol. 1. Sammlung ausgewählter Kirchen- und Dogmengeschichtlicher Quellenschriften, 2.Reihe, 1. Tübingen: J.C.B. Mohr (Paul Siebeck), 1970. Cicero, De Re Publica, De Legibus. Trans. C. W. Keyes. LCL. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1961. —De Officiis. Trans. W. Miller. LCL. London: Heinemann, 1968. Diodorus of Sicily, Diodorus of Sicily, vol. 3. Trans. C. H. Oldfather. LCL. London: Heinemann, 1961. Diogenes Laertios, Lives of Eminent Philosophers. Trans. R. D. Hicks. LCL. London: Heinemann, 1950. Epictetus, Epicteteæ Philosophiæ Monvmenta 1–5. Ed. I. Schweighævser. Leipzig: Libraria Weidmannia, 1799a–d, 1800. —The Discourses of Epictetus with the Enchiridion and fragments. Trans. G. Long. Philadelphia: David McKay. Sine anno. —Epicteti dissertationes ab Arriano digestae. Editio Maior. Ed. H. Schenkl. Bibliotheca scriptorum Graecorum et Romanum Tevbneriana. Leipzig: B.G. Teubner, 1894. —Handbüchlein der Moral und Auslese aus seinen Gesprechen. Übersetzt von W. Capelle. Jena: Eugen Diederichs, 1925. —Het Eerste Boek der Diatriben. Inleiding, Vertaling en Commentaar door H. W. F. Stellwag. Amsterdam: H. J. Paris, 1933. —Entretiens 1–4. Texte établi et traduit par J. Souilhé (avec la collaboration de A. Jagu). Collection des universités de France. Paris: Société d’édition les belles letters, 1943–65. —Epicteti dissertationes ab Arriano digestae. Editio Maior. Ed. H. Schenkl. Bibliotheca scriptorum Graecorum et Romanum Tevbneriana. Leipzig: B. G. Teubner, 1965 (1916).



Bibliography

159

—Vom Kynismus. Herausgegeben und übersetzt mit einem Kommentar von M. Billerbeck. Philosophia Antiqua: A Series of Monographs on Ancient Philosophy 34. Leiden: Brill, 1978. —The Discourses as Reported by Arrian, the Manual and Fragments. Trans. W. A. Oldfather. LCL. London: Heinemann, 1985–95 (1925–8). —Discourses Book I. Trans. with an introduction and commentary by R. F. Dobbin. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1998. Euripides, Euripides. Trans. Arthur S. Way. London: Heinemann, 1959–65. Galen, On the Doctrines of Hippocrates and Plato. Books 1–5. Ed., trans. and commentary by P. de Lacy. Corpus Medicorum Graecorum V 4,1,2. Berlin: Akademie-Verlag, 1978. García Martínez, F. and Tigchelaar, E. J. C. (eds), The Dead Sea Scrolls. Study Edition. Leiden: Brill, 1997–8. Herodotus, Herodotus. Trans. A. D. Godley. LCL. London: Heinemann, 1960–63. Homer, Odyssea. Ed. H. van Thiel. Bibliotheca Weidmanniana 1. Hildesheim: Georg Olms, 1991. —Ilias. Ed. H. van Thiel. Bibliotheca Weidmanniana 2. Hildesheim: Georg Olms, 1996. Josephus, The Jewish War, Books IV–VII. Trans. H. St. J. Thackeray. LCL. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1979. Long, A. A. and Sedley, D. N. (eds), The Hellenistic Philosophers. New York: Cambridge University Press, 1988–98. Lucian, Lucian, vols 3–4. Trans. A. M. Harmon. LCL. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1960–61. Lucretius Carus, De Rerum Natura. Trans. W. H. D. Rouse, 3rd rev. edn. LCL. London: Heinemann, 1975. Marcus Aurelius, The Meditations of the Emperor Marcus Antoninus. Ed. with trans. and commentary by A. S. L. Farquharson. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1968. —The Communings with Himself of Marcus Aurelius Antoninus, Emperor of Rome together with His Speeches and Sayings. Rev. and trans. C. R. Haines. LCL. London: Heinemann, 1970. Maximus of Tyre, Philosophvmena – . Ed. G. L. Koniaris. Texte und Kommentare, eine Altertumwissenschaftliche Reihe 17. Berlin: Walter de Gruyter, 1995. Musonius Rufus – see Literature: Lutz 1947. Nestle, E., Nestle, E. and Aland, K. (eds), Novum Testamentum Graece. 27th edn. Stuttgart: Deutsche Bibelgesellschaft, 1993. Oates, W. J. (ed.), The Stoic and Epicurean Philosophers. The Complete Extant Writings of Epicurus, Epictetus, Lucretius and Marcus Aurelius. New York: Random House, 1940. Ovid, Metamorphoses. Trans. F. J. Miller. LCL. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1956–8. —Heroids and Amores. Trans. G. Showerman. LCL. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1963. Philo, Philo. Trans. F. H. Colson, G. H. Whitaker and R. Marcus. LCL. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1968–91. Plato, Plato. Trans. R. G. Byry, H. N. Fowler, W. R. M. Lamb and P. Shorey. LCL. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1961–99. Rahlfs, A. (ed.), Septuaginta. Stuttgart: Deutsche Bibelgesellschaft, 2004. Sallust, Sallust. Trans. J. C. Rolfe. LCL. London: Heinemann, 1965. —De Catilinae Coniuratione 1. Kommentiert von K. Vretska. Wissenschaftliche Kommentare zu griechischen und lateinischen Schriftstellern. Heidelberg: Karl Winter Universitätsverlag, 1976.

160

Paul and Epictetus on Law

Seneca, Ad Lucilium Epistulae Morales. Trans. R. M. Gummere. LCL. London: Heinemann, 1962–5. —Moral Essays. Trans. J. W. Basore. LCL. London: Heinemann, 1963–5. —Natural Questions, Books I–III. Trans T. H. Corcoran. LCL. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1999. —Hercules, Trojan Women, Phoenician Women, Medea, Phaedra. Trans. J. G. Fitch. LCL. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2002. Simplicius, On Epictetus Handbook 27–53. Trans. T. Brennan and C. Brittain. Series of the Ancient Commentators on Aristotle. London: Duckworth, 2002. Sophocles, Ajax, Electra, Trachinae, Philoctetes. Trans. F. Storr. LCL. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1961. Suetonius, Suetonius, vols 1–2. Trans. J. C. Rolfe. LCL. London: Heinemann, 1964–5. Tacitus, The Annals, vol. 3. Trans. J. Jackson. LCL. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1956. Thucydides, History of the Peloponnesian War, vol. 3. LCL. London: Heinemann, 1959. Virgil, Eclogues, Georgics, Aeneid I–VI. Trans. H. R. Fairclough, rev. G. P. Goold. LCL. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2001. Xenophon, Commentarii, Oeconomicvs, Convivivm, Apologia Socratis. Ed. E. C. Marchant. Scriptorum classicorum bibliotheca Oxoniensis. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1962.

Literature

Abegg, M. G. (1999), ‘4QMMT C 27, 31 and “Works Righteousness” ’. DSD 6.2: 139–47. Aejmelaeus, L. (2000), Schwachheit als Waffe. Die Argumentation des Paulus im ‘Tränen­ brief’ (2.Kor. 10–13). PFES 78. Helsinki: Finnish Exegetical Society. Aichele, G. and Phillips, G. A. (1995), ‘Introduction: Exegesis, Eisegesis, Intergesis’. Semeia 69/70: 7–18. Algra, K. (2003), ‘Stoic Theology’. In B. Inwood (ed.), The Cambridge Companion to the Stoics. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, pp. 153–78. Almqvist, H. (1946), Plutarch und das Neue Testament. Ein Beitrag zum Corpus Hellenisti­ cum Novi Testamenti. ASNU 15. Kopenhagen: Einar Munksgaard. Anderson, R. D. (1999), Ancient Rhetorical Theory and Paul. CBET 18. Leuven: Peeters. Annas, J. (1993), The Morality of Happiness. New York: Oxford University Press. Arjava, A. (1996), Women and Law in Late Antiquity. Oxford: Clarendon Press. Aune, D. E. (1990), ‘Heracles and Christ. Heracles Imagery in the Christology of Early Christianity’. In D. L. Balch, E. Ferguson and W. Meeks (eds), Greeks, Romans, and Chris­ tians. Festschrift A. J. Malherbe. Minneapolis: Fortress Press, pp. 3–19. —(1992), ‘Herakles’. In D. N. Freedman et al. (eds), ABD 3. New York: Doubleday, 141–2. Avemarie, F. (1996), Tora und Leben. Untersuchungen zur Heilsbedeutung der Tora in der frühen rabbinischen Literatur. TSAJ 55. Tübingen: J. C. B. Mohr (Paul Siebeck). Avemarie, F. and Lichtenberger, H. (eds) (1996), Bund und Tora. Zur theologischen Begriffs­ geschichte in alttestamentlicher, frühjüdischer und urchristlicher Tradition. WUNT 92. Tübingen: J. C. B. Mohr (Paul Siebeck). Bachmann, M. (2005), ‘Keil oder Mikroskop? Zur jüngeren Diskussion um den Ausdruck “Werke des Gesetzes” ’. In M. Buchmann (ed.), Lutherische und neue Paulusperspek­ tive. Beiträge zu einem Schlüsselproblem der gegenwärtigen exegetischen Diskussion. WUNT 182. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, pp. 69–134. Bachmann, M. (ed.) (2005), Lutherische und neue Paulusperspektive. Beiträge zu einem Schlüsselproblem der gegenwärtigen exegetischen Diskussion. WUNT 182. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck. Balz, H. and Schneider, G. (eds) (1990–93), Exegetical Dictionary of the New Testament, vols 1–3. Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans.



Bibliography

161

Barclay, J. M. G. (1996), ‘ “Do we undermine the Law?” A Study of Romans 14.1–15.6’. In J. D. G. Dunn (ed.), Paul and the Mosaic Law. WUNT 89. Tübingen: J. C. B. Mohr (Paul Siebeck), pp. 287–308. Barnes, J. (1997), Logic and the Imperial Stoa. Philosophia Antiqua 75. Leiden: Brill. Barnikol, E. (1961), ‘Römer 13. Der nichtpaulinische Ursprung der absoluten Obrigkeitsbejahung von Römer 13,1–7’. In Komission für spätantike Religionsgeschichte (ed.), Studien zum Neuen Testament und zur Patristik, Festschrift E. Klostermann. TU 77. Berlin: Akademie-Verlag, pp. 65–133. Barr, J. (1961), The Semantics of Biblical Language. London: Oxford University Press. Barrett, C. K. (1957), The Epistle to the Romans. Black’s New Testament Commentaries. London: A & C Black. —(1994), A Commentary on the First Epistle to the Corinthians. 2nd edn. London: A & C Black. Bartchy, S. S. (1973),  : First-Century Slavery and 1 Corinthians 7:21. SBLDS 11. Missoula, MT: Scholars Press. Barth, H. (1950), ‘Die Bedeutung der Freiheit bei Epiktet und Augustin’. In Fritz Blanke et  al. (eds), Das Menschenbild im Lichte des Evangeliums. Festschrift E. Brunner. Zürich: Zwingli-Verlag, pp. 49–64. Behm, J. (1973), ‘ ’. In R. Kittel et al. (eds), Theological Dictionary of the New Tes­ tament, vol. 4. Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, pp. 948–1022. Benz, E. (1929), Das Todesproblem in der stoischen Philosophie. Tübinger Beiträge zur Altertumswissenschaft 7. Stuttgart: W. Kohlhammer. Bergmeier, R. (2005), ‘Vom Tun der Tora’. In M. Bachmann (ed.), Lutherische und neue Pau­ lusperspektive. Beiträge zu einem Schlüsselproblem der gegenwärtigen exegetischen Diskussion. WUNT 182. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, pp. 161–81. Betz, H. D. (1961), Lukian von Samosata und das Neue Testament. Religionsgeschichtliche und paränetische Parallelen. Ein Beitrag zum Corpus Hellenisticum Novi Testamenti. TU 76. Berlin: Akademie Verlag. —(1979), A Commentary on Paul’s Letter to the Churches in Galatia. Hermeneia. Philadelphia: Fortress Press. —(1992), ‘Paul’. In D. N. Freedman et al. (eds), ABD 5. New York: Doubleday, pp. 186– 201. —(1994), Paulinische Studien. Gesammelte Aufsätze 3. Tübingen: J. C. B. Mohr (Paul Siebeck). —(2000), ‘The Concept of the “Inner Human Being” (  ) in the Anthropology of Paul’. NTS 46: 315–41. Betz, H. D. (ed.) (1975), Plutarch’s Theological Writings and Early Christian Literature. SCHNT 3. Leiden: Brill. —(1978), Plutarch’s Ethical Writings and Early Christian Literature. SCHNT 4. Leiden: Brill. Billerbeck, M. (1978) – see Sources: Epictetus 1978. Black, M. (1989), Romans. New Century Bible Commentary. Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans. Blass, F., Debrunner, A., and Rehkopf, F. (1979), Grammatik des neutestamentlichen Griechisch. Göttingen: Vandehoeck & Ruprecht. Bobzien, S. (1998), Determinism and Freedom in Stoic Philosophy. Oxford: Clarendon Press. Boersema, J. J. (2001), The Torah and the Stoics on Humankind and Nature: A Contribution to the Debate on Sustainability and Quality. Leiden: Brill. Bonhöffer, A. (1890), Epictet und die Stoa. Untersuchungen zur stoischen Philosophie. Stuttgart: Verlag von Ferdinand Enke. —(1894), Die Ethik des Stoikers Epictet. Anhang: Exkurse über einige wichtige Punkte der stoischen Ethik. Stuttgart: Verlag von Ferdinand Enke.

162

Paul and Epictetus on Law

—(1911), Epiktet und das Neue Testament. Religionsgeschichtliche Versuche und Vorarbeiten 10. Giessen: Verlag von Alfred Töpelmann (vormals J. Ricker). —(1912), ‘Epiktet und das Neue Testament’. ZNW 13: 281–92. Boring, M. G., Berger, K., and Colpe, C. (1995), Hellenistic Commentary to the New Testa­ ment. Nashville, TN: Abingdon Press. Bornkamm, G. (1959), Studien zu Antike und Urchristentum. Gesammelte Aufsätze 2. München: Chr. Kaiser Verlag. —(1985), Studien zum Neuen Testament. München: Chr. Kaiser Verlag. Boter, G. (1999), The Encheiridion of Epictetus and its Three Christian Adaptations: Trans­ mission and Critical Editions. Philosophia Antiqua 82. Leiden: Brill. Boyarin, D. (1994), A Radical Jew: Paul and the Politics of Identity. Contraversions, Critical Studies in Jewish Literature, Culture, and Society 1. Berkeley, CA: University of California Press. Braun, H. (1962), Gesammelte Studien zum Neuen Testament und seiner Umwelt. Tübingen: J. C. B. Mohr (Paul Siebeck). Brennan, T. (1998), ‘The Old Stoic Theory of Emotions’. In T. Engberg-Pedersen and J. Sihvola (eds), The Emotions in Hellenistic Philosophy. The New Synthese Historical Library 46. Dordrecht: Kluwer Academic, pp. 21–70. Brooten, B. J. (1996), Love Between Women: Early Christian Responses to Female Homo­ eroticism. Chicago, IL: University of Chicago Press. Brown, R. E. (1997), An Introduction to the New Testament. The Anchor Bible Reference Library. New York: Doubleday. Bultmann, R. (1912), ‘Das religiöse Moment in der ethischen Unterweisung des Epiktet und das Neue Testament’. ZNW 13: 97–110 and 177–91. —(1958), Theologie des Neuen Testaments. Tübingen: J.C.B. Mohr (Paul Siebeck). —(1967), Exegetica. Aufsätze zur Erforschung des Neuen Testaments. Tübingen: J. C. B. Mohr (Paul Siebeck). —(1984), Der Stil der paulinischen Predigt und die kynisch-stoische Diatribe. FRLANT 13. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht. Burton, E. D. W. (1948), A Critical and Exegetical Commentary on the Epistle to the Gala­ tians. ICC. Edinburgh: T & T Clark. Cancik, H. (1981), ‘  “Alle Gewalt ist von Gott”. Paulus, Röm. 13 im Rahmen antiker und neuzeitlicher Staatslehren’. In B. Gladigow (ed.), Staat und Religion. Düsseldorf: Patmos Verlag, pp. 53–74. Carson, D. A., O’Brien, P. T. and Seifrid, M. A. (eds) (2001–04), Justification and Variegated Nomism, vols 1–2. WUNT, 2.140 and 2.181. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck. Chilton, B. (2004), Rabbi Paul: An Intellectual Biography. New York: Doubleday. Clemen, C. (1924), Religionsgeschichtliche Erklärung des Neuen Testaments. Die Abhän­ gigkeit des ältesten Christentums von nichtjüdischen Religionen und philosophischen Systemen. Giessen: Alfred Töpelmann. Colish, M. L. (1985), The Stoic Tradition from Antiquity to the Early Middle Ages I: Stoicism in Classical Latin Literature. Studies in the History of Christian Thought 34. Leiden: Brill. Conzelmann, H. (1981), Der erste Brief an die Korinther. KEK 5. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht. Cranfield, C. E. B. (1975–79), A Critical Exegetical Commentary on the Epistle to the Romans, vols 1-2. ICC. Edinburgh: T & T Clark. Croy, N. C. (1998), Endurance in Suffering: Hebrews 12.1–13 in its Rhetorical, Religious, and Philosophical Context. SNTSMS 98. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Cullmann, O. (1956), Der Staat im Neuen Testament. Tübingen: J. C. B. Mohr (Paul Siebeck).



Bibliography

163

Das, A. A. (2001), Paul, the Law, and the Covenant. Peabody, MA: Hendrickson. —(2003), Paul and the Jews. Peabody, MA: Hendrickson. Dautzenberg, G. (1996), ‘Die Freiheit bei Paulus und in der Stoa’. TQ 176: 65–76. —(2001), ‘Freiheit im hellenistischen Kontext’. In J. Beutler (ed.), Der neue Mensch in Chris­ tus. Hellenistische Anthropologie und Ethik im Neuen Testament. QD 190. Freiburg: Herder, pp. 57–81. Davies, W. D. (1970) [1948], Paul and Rabbinic Judaism: Some Rabbinic Elements in Pauline Theology. London: SPCK. Decker, W. (2000), ‘Pankration’. In H. Cancik and H. Schneider (eds), DNP 9. Stuttgart: Verlag J. B. Metzler, p. 250. Deissmann, A. (1923), Licht vom Osten. Das Neue Testament und die neuentdeckten Texte der hellenistisch-römischen Welt. Vierte völlig neubearbeitete Auflage. Tübingen: J. C. B. Mohr (Paul Siebeck). Deissner, K. (1930), Das Idealbild des stoischen Weisen. Rede anlässlich der Reichsgründ­ ungsfeier der Universität Greifswald am 18. Januar 1930. Greifswald: Ratsbuchhandlung L. Bamberg. Deming, W. (1995a), Paul on Marriage and Celibacy: The Hellenistic Background of 1 Cor­ inthians 7. SNTSMS 83. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. —(1995b), ‘A Diatribe Pattern in 1 Cor. 7:21–22: A New Perspective on Paul’s Directions to Slaves’. NovT 37: 130–7. Dieter, T. (2001), Der junge Luther und Aristoteles. Eine historisch-systematische Untersuc­ hung zum Verhältnis von Theologie und Philosophie. Theologische Bibliothek Töpelmann 105. Berlin: Walter de Gruyter. Dihle, A. (1982), The Theory of Will in Classical Antiquity. Sather Classical Lectures 48. Berkeley, CA: University of California Press. Dillon, J. M. (1997), ‘Medea among the Philosophers’. In J. J. Clauss and S. I. Johnston (eds), Medea: Essays on Medea in Myth, Literature, Philosophy and Art. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, pp. 211–18. Distelrath, G. (2001), ‘Saturnalia’. In H. Cancik and H. Schneider (eds), DNP 11. Stuttgart: Verlag J. B. Metzler, pp. 113–15. Dobbin, R. (1991), ‘ in Epictetus’. Ancient Philosophy 11: 111–35. —(1998) – see Sources: Epictetus 1998. Dodd, B. (1999), Paul’s Paradigmatic ‘I’: Personal Example as Literary Strategy. JSNTSup 177. Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press. Donaldson, T. L. (1983), ‘Parallels: Use, Misuse and Limitations’. EvQ 55: 193–210. Döring, K. (1979), Exemplum Socratis. Studien zur Sokratesnachwirkung in der kynischstoischen Popularphilosophie der frühen Kaiserzeit und im frühen Christentum. Hermes, Einzelschriften 42. Wiesbaden: Franz Steiner Verlag. Dover, K. (2002), ‘Two Women of Samos’. In M. C. Nussbaum and J. Sihvola, (eds), The Sleep of Reason: Erotic Experience and Sexual Ethics in Ancient Greece and Rome. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, pp. 222–8. Downing, F. G. (1995), ‘Common Strands in Pagan, Jewish and Christian Eschatologies in the First Century’. TZ 51: 196–211. —(1998), Cynics, Paul and the Pauline Churches. Cynics and Christian Origins 2. London: Routledge. Dragona-Monachou, M. (1994), ‘Divine Providence in the Philosophy of Empire’. In W. Haase and H. Temporini (eds), ANRW II.36.7. Berlin: Walter de Gruyter, pp. 4417–90. Duchrow, U. (1983), Christenheit und Weltverantwortung. Traditionsgeschichte und system­ atische Struktur der Zweireichelehre. Forschungen und Berichte der Evangelischen Studiengemeinschaft 25. Stuttgart: Klett-Cotta. Dunderberg, I. (1999), ‘Johannine Anomalies and the Synoptics’. In J. Nissen and S. Pedersen

164

Paul and Epictetus on Law

(eds), New Readings in John. Literary and Theological Perspectives: Essays from the Scandinavian Conference on the Fourth Gospel Århus 1997. JSNTSup 182. Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, pp.108–25. Dunn, J. D. G. (1988), Romans. WBC 38A. Dallas, TX: Word Books. —(1997), ‘4QMMT and Galatians’. NTS 43: 147–53. —(1998), The Theology of Paul the Apostle. Edinburgh: T&T Clark. Eckstein, H.-J. (1983), Der Begriff Syneidesis bei Paulus. Eine neutestamentlich-exegetische Untersuchung zum ‘Gewissensbegriff’. WUNT, 2.10. Tübingen: J. C. B. Mohr (Paul Siebeck). Ehrhardt, A. A. T. (1959a-b), Politische Metaphysik von Solon bis Augustin, vols 1–2. Tübingen: J. C. B. Mohr (Paul Siebeck). Engberg-Pedersen, T. (2000), Paul and the Stoics. Edinburgh: T&T Clark. —(2002), ‘The Reception of Graeco-Roman Culture in the New Testament: The Case of Romans 7.7–25’. In M. Müller and H. Tronier (eds), The New Testament as Reception. JSNTSup 230. Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, pp. 32–57. —(2004), ‘Stoicism in the Apostle Paul: A Philosophical Reading’. In S.  K. Strange and J. Zupko (eds), Stoicism: Traditions and Transformations. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, pp. 52–75. —(2005), ‘The Relationship with Others: Similarities and Differences between Paul and Stoicism’. ZNW 96: 35–60. —(2006a), ‘Paul’s Stoicizing Politics in Romans 12–13: The Role of 13.1–10 in the Argument’. JSNT 29: 163–72. —(2006b), ‘A Stoic Understanding of Pneuma in Paul’. In T. Engberg-Pedersen and H. Tronier (eds), Philosophy at the Roots of Christianity. Working Papers 2. Copenhagen: Biblical Studies Section, Faculty of Theology, University of Copenhagen, pp. 101–23. Enslin, M. S. (1957), The Ethics of Paul. New York: Abingdon Press. Erskine, A. (1990), The Hellenistic Stoa: Political Thought and Action. New York: Cornell University Press. Esler, P. F. (2004), ‘Paul and Stoicism: Romans 12 as a Test Case’. NTS 50: 106–24. Fee, G. D. (1987), The First Epistle to the Corinthians. NICNT. Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans. Feldman, L. H. (2006), Judaism and Hellenism Reconsidered. Supplements to the Journal for the Study of Judaism 107. Leiden: Brill. Ferguson, E. (1989), Background of Early Christianity. Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans. Fitzmyer, J. A. (1993), Romans: A New Translation with Introduction and Commentary. AB 33. New York: Doubleday. Forschner, M. (1995), Die Stoische Ethik. Über den Zusammenhang von Natur-, Sprach- und Moralphilosophie im altstoischen System. Darmstadt: Wissenschaftliche Buchgesellschaft. Foucault, M. (1986–87), The History of Sexuality, vols 2–3. London: Penguin Books. Francis, J. A. (1995), Subversive Virtue: Ascetism and Authority in the Second-century Pagan World. University Park, PN: Pennsylvania State University Press. Fridrichsen, A. (1994), Exegetical Writings: A Selection. WUNT 76. Tübingen: J. C. B. Mohr (Paul Siebeck). Friedrich, J., Pöhlmann, W., and Stuhlmacher, P. (1976), ‘Zur historischen Situation und Intention von Röm 13,1–7’. ZTK 73: 131–66. Frisk, H. (1960–70), Griechisches Ethymologisches Wörterbuch, vols 1–2. Heidelberg: Carl Winter, Universitätsverlag. Furley, D. J. (1992) – see Sources: Aristotle 1992. Galinsky, G. K. (1972), The Herakles Theme: The Adaptions of the Hero in Literature from Homer to the Twentieth Century. Oxford: Basil Blackwell.



Bibliography

165

Galloway, L. E. (2004), Freedom in the Gospel: Paul’s Exemplum in 1 Cor 9 in Conversation with the Discourses of Epictetus and Philo. CBET 38. Leuven: Peeters. Garrison, R. (1997), The Graeco-Roman Context of Early Christian Literature. JSNTSup 137. Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press. Gathercole, S. J. (2002), ‘A Law unto Themselves: The Gentiles in Romans 2.14–15 Revisited’. JSNT 85: 27–49. Geytenbeek, A. C. van (1963), Musonius Rufus and Greek Diatribe. WTS 8. Assen: Van Gorcum. Gill, C. (1983), ‘Did Chrysippus Understand Medea?’ Phronesis 28: 136–49. —(2000), ‘Stoic Writers of the Imperial Era’. In C. Rowe and M. Schofield (eds), The Cam­ bridge History of Greek and Roman Political Thought. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, pp. 597–615. Glad, C. E. (1995), Paul and Philodemus: Adaptability in Epicurean and Early Christian Psychagogy. NovTSup 81. Leiden: Brill. Greeven, H. (1935), Das Hauptproblem der Sozialethik in der neueren Stoa und im Urchris­ tentum. NTF, dritte Reihe: Beiträge zur Sprache und Geschichte der urchristliche Frömmigkeit 4. Gütersloh: C. Bertelsmann. Gretenkord, J. C. (1981), Der Freiheitsbegriff Epiktets. Bochum: Studienverlag Brockmeyer. Gulin, E. G. (1926), ‘Die Religion Epiktets und die Stoa’. In Discipuli (eds), Commentationes Philologicae. Festschrift I. A. Heikel. Helsingfors: Akademische Buchhandlung, pp. 32–47. Gundry, R. H. (2005), The Old is Better: New Testament Essays in Support of Traditional Interpretations. WUNT 178. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck. Guthrie, W. K. C. (1977), The Greeks and Their Gods. London: Methuen & Co. Guttenberger Ortwein, G. (1999), Status und Statusverzicht im Neuen Testament und seiner Umwelt. NTOA 39. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht. Haacker, K. (1999), Der Brief des Paulus an die Römer. THKNT 6. Leipzig: Evangelische Verlagsanstalt. Hadot, P. (1991), Philosophie als Lebensform. Geistige Übungen in der Antike. Berlin: Verlag Mathias Gatza. —(1998), The Inner Citadel: The Meditations of Marcus Aurelius. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press. Halperin, D. M. (2002), ‘Forgetting Foucault: Acts, Identities, and the History of Sexuality’. In M. C. Nussbaum and J. Sihvola (eds), The Sleep of Reason: Erotic Experience and Sexual Ethics in Ancient Greece and Rome. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, pp. 21–54. Harrill, J. A. (1995), The Manumission of Slaves in Early Christianity. HUT 32. Tübingen: J.C.B. Mohr (Paul Siebeck). Hartmann, K. (1905), Arrian und Epiktet’. Neue Jahrbücher für das klassiche Altertum 8: 248–75. Heckel, T. K. (1993), Der Innere Mensch. Die paulinische Verarbeitung eines platonischen Motivs. WUNT 2.53. Tübingen: J. C. B. Mohr (Paul Siebeck). Hegermann, H. (1990), ‘’. In H. Balz and G. Schneider (eds), Exegetical Dictionary of the New Testament, vol. 2. Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, pp. 344–8. Hengel, M. (1976), Die Zeloten. Untersuchungen zur jüdischen Freiheitsbewegung in der Zeit von Herodes I bis 70 n. Chr. 2. verbesserte und erweiterte Auflage. Arbeiten zur Geschichte des Antiken Judentums und des Urchristentums 1. Leiden: Brill. —(1996), Judaism and Hellenism: Studies in the Encounter in Palestine during the Early Hellenistic Period. London: XPress Reprints. Hershbell, J. (1989), ‘The Stoicism of Epictetus: Twentieth Century Perspectives’. In W. Haase and H. Temporini (eds), ANRW II.36.3. Berlin: Walter de Gruyter, pp. 2150– 63.

166

Paul and Epictetus on Law

—(1993), ‘Epictetus and Chrysippus’. Illinois Classical Studies 18: 139–46. Hietanen, M. (2005), Paul’s Argumentation in Galatians: A Pragma-dialectical Analysis of Gal. 3.1–5.12. Helsinki: M. Hietanen. Hijmans, B. L. Jr. (1959), . Notes on Epictetus’ Educational System. WTS 2. Assen: Van Gorcum. Hock, R. F. (1991), ‘“By the Gods, It’s My one Desire to See an Actual Stoic”: Epictetus’ Relations with Students and Visitors in His Personal Network’. Semeia 56: 121–42. Hoegen-Rohls, C. (2002), ‘Rezension: T. Engberg-Pedersen, Paul and the Stoics’. BZ 46: 141–3. Höistad, R. (1948), Cynic Hero and Cynic King: Studies in the Cynic Conception of Man. Lund: Ragnar Höistad. Hommel, H. (1984), Sebasmata. Studien zur antiken Religionsgeschichte und zum frühen Christentum. Band 2. WUNT 32. Tübingen: J. C. B. Mohr (Paul Siebeck). Horsley, R. A. (2004), ‘Introduction’. In R. A. Horsley (ed.), Paul and the Roman Imperial Order. Harrisburg, PA: Trinity Press International, pp. 1–23. Horsley, R. A. (ed.) (2004), Paul and the Roman Imperial Order. Harrisburg, PA: Trinity Press International. Horst, P. W. van der (1973), ‘Macrobius and the New Testament: A Contribution to the Corpus Hellenisticum’. NovT 15: 220–32. —(1974), ‘Musonius Rufus and the New Testament: A Contribution to the Corpus Hellenisticum’. NovT 16: 306–15. —(1975), ‘Hierocles the Stoic and the New Testament: A Contribution to the Corpus Hellenisticum’. NovT 17: 156–60. —(1980), Aelius Aristides and the New Testament. SCHNT 6. Leiden: Brill. —(1981), ‘Cornutus and the New Testament: A Contribution to the Corpus Hellenisticum’. NovT 23: 165–72. —(1983), ‘Chariton and the New Testament: A Contribution to the Corpus Hellenisticum’. NovT 25: 348–55. —(1992), ‘Corpus Hellenisticum Novi Testamenti’. In D. N. Freedman et al. (eds), ABD 1, pp. 1157–61. Houser, J. S. (2002), ‘Eros and Afrodisia in the Works of Dio Chrysostom’. In M. C. Nussbaum and J. Sihvola (eds) (2002), The Sleep of Reason: Erotic Experience and Sexual Ethics in Ancient Greece and Rome. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, pp. 327–53. Hübner, H. (1975), ‘Das ganze und das eine Gesetz. Zum Problemkreis Paulus und die Stoa’. Kerygma und Dogma 21: 239–56. —(1978), Das Gesetz bei Paulus. Ein Beitrag zum Werden der paulinischen Theologie. FRLANT 119. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht. Huttunen, N. (2008), ‘Greco-Roman Philosophy and Paul’s Teaching on Law’. In L. Aejmelaeus and A. Mustakallio (eds), The Nordic Paul: Finnish Approaches to Pauline Theol­ ogy. LNTS 374. London: T&T Clark, pp. 74–89. Inwood, B. (1985), Ethics and Human Action in Early Stoicism. Oxford: Clarendon Press. Jackson-McCabe, M. (2004), ‘The Stoic Theory of Implanted Preconceptions’. Phronesis 49: 323–47. Jagu, A. (1946), Épictète et Platon. Essai sur les relations du Stoïcisme et du Platonisme à propos de la Morale des Entretiens. Paris: Libraire Philosophique J. Vrin. Jaquette, J. L. (1995), Discerning What Counts: The Function of the Adiaphora Topos in Paul’s Letters. SBLDS 146. Atlanta: Scholars Press. Jolivet, I. (1999), ‘Stoic Philosophy and Jewish Scripture in the Argument from the Letter and Intent of the Law in Romans’. In Society of Biblical Literature Seminar Papers 38. Atlanta: SBL, pp. 448–71. Jones, F. S. (1987), ‘Freiheit’ in den Briefen des Apostels Paulus. Eine historische, exegetische



Bibliography

167

und religionsgeschichtliche Studie. Göttinger theologischer Arbeiten 34. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht. Joüon, P. (1991), A Grammar of Biblical Hebrew. Trans. and rev. T. Muraoka. Subsidia Biblica 14. Roma: Editrece Pontificio Istituto Biblico. Joyce, R. (1995), ‘Early Stoicism and Akrasia’. Phronesis 40: 315–35. Kaiser, O. (2003), Zwischen Athen und Jerusalem. Studien zur griechischen und biblischen The­ ologie, ihrer Eigenart und ihrem Verhältnis. BZAW 320. Berlin: Walter de Gruyter. Käsemann, E. (1964), Exegetische Versuche und Besinnungen, vol. 2. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht. —(1973), An die Römer. HNT 8a. Tübingen: J. C. B. Mohr (Paul Siebeck). Kaye, B. N. (1979), The Argument of Romans with Special Reference to Chapter 6. Austin, TX: Schola Press. Kelly, J. N. D. (1976), The Pastoral Epistles. I & II Timothy, Titus. Black’s New Testament Commentaries. London: A & C Black. Klauck, H.-J. (2003), The Religious Context of Early Christianity: A Guide to Graeco-Roman Religions. Minneapolis: Fortress Press. Knuuttila, S. and J. Sihvola (2000), ‘Ancient Scepticism and Philosophy of Religion’. Acta Philosophica Fennica 66: 125–44. Kodrębski, J. (1976), ‘Der Rechtsunterricht am Ausgang der Republik und zu Beginn des Prinzipats’. In W. Haase and H. Temporini (eds), ANRW II.15. Berlin: Walter de Gruyter, pp. 177–96. Koester, H. (1968), ‘ . The Concept of Natural Law in Greek Thought’. In J. Neusner (ed.), Religions in Antiquity: Essays in Memory of E. R. Goodenough. Studies in the History of Religions 14. Leiden: Brill, pp. 521–41. —(1974), ‘ ’ In R. Kittel, et al. (eds), Theological Dictionary of the New Testament, vol. 9. Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, pp. 251–77. Koskenniemi, E. (1994), Apollonios von Tyana in der neutestamentlichen Exegese. Forsc­ hungsbericht und Weiterführung der Diskussion. WUNT 2.61. Tübingen: J. C. B. Mohr (Paul Siebeck). Kümmel, W. G. (1974), Römer 7 und das Bild des Menschen im Neuen Testament. Zwei Studien. München: Chr. Kaiser Verlag. Kuss, O. (1963–78), Der Römerbrief, vols 1–3. Regensburg: Verlag Friedrich Pustet. Kuula, K. (2003), The Law, the Covenant and God’s Plan, Vol. 2: Paul’s Treatment of the Law and Israel in Romans. PFES 85. Helsinki: Finnish Exegetical Society. Laato, T. (1991), Paulus und das Judentum. Anthropologische Erwägungen. Åbo: Åbo Akademis Förlag. Lang, F. (1986), Die Briefe an die Korinther. NTD 7. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht. Lee, M. V. (2006), Paul, the Stoics, and the Body of Christ. SNTSMS 137. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Leppä, O. (2003), The Making of Colossians: A Study on the Formation and Purpose of a Deutero-Pauline Letter. PFES 86. Helsinki: Finnish Exegetical Society. Levinson, J. R. (1996), ‘Torah and Covenant in Pseudo Philo’s Liber Antiquitatum Biblicarum’. In F. Avemarie and H. Lichtenberger (eds), Bund und Tora. Zur theologischen Begriffsgeschichte in alttestamentlicher, frühjüdischer und urchristlicher Tradition. WUNT 92. Tübingen: J. C. B. Mohr (Paul Siebeck), pp. 111–27. Liddell, H. G. and R. Scott (1953), A Greek-English Lexicon. Oxford: Clarendon Press. Liebs, D. (1976), ‘Rechtsschulen und Rechtsunterricht im Prinzipat’. In W. Haase and H. Temporini (eds), ANRW II.15. Berlin: Walter de Gruyter, pp. 197–286. Lindbeck, M. (1990), ‘ ’. In H. Balz and G. Schneider (eds), Exegetical Dictionary of the New Testament, vol. 1. Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, p. 106. Lindemann, A. (2000), Der erste Korintherbrief. HNT 9.1. Tübingen: J. C. B. Mohr (Paul Siebeck).

168

Paul and Epictetus on Law

Lindgård, F. (2005), Paul’s Line of Thought in 2 Corinthians 4:16–5:10. WUNT, 2.189. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck. Long, A. A. (1974), Hellenistic Philosophy: Stoics, Epicureans, Sceptics. New York: Charles Scribner’s Sons. —(2002), Epictetus: A Stoic and Socratic Guide to Life. Oxford: Clarendon Press. Long, A. A. and Sedley, D. N. (1988–98) – see Sources: Long and Sedley (eds) 1988–98. Long, G. (sine anno) – see Sources: Epictetus sine anno. Longenecker, R. N. (1990), Galatians. WBC 41. Dallas, TX: Word Books. Luhtala, A. (2000), On the Origin of Syntactical Description in Stoic Logic. The Henry Sweet Society Studies in the History of Linguistics 7. Münster: Nodus. Luther, M. (1958), Luther’s Works 31. Philadelphia: Mühlenberg Press. —(1963), Luther’s Works 48. Philadelphia: Fortress Press. Lutz, C. E. (1947), ‘Musonius Rufus. “The Roman Socrates”’. Yale Classical Studies 10: 1–147. MacMullen, R. (1975), Enemies of the Roman Order: Treason, Unrest, and Alienation in the Empire. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press. Malherbe, A. J. (1988), ‘Herakles’. In T. Klauser et al. (eds), RAC XIV. Stuttgart: Anton Hiersemann, pp. 559–83. —(1989), Paul and the Popular Philosophers. Minneapolis: Fortress Press. —(1995), ‘Determinism and Free Will in Paul: The Argument of 1 Corinthians 8 and 9’. In T. Engberg-Pedersen (ed.), Paul in His Hellenistic Context. Minneapolis: Fortress Press, pp. 231–55. Manning, C. E. (1989), ‘Stoicism and Slavery in the Roman Empire. AD’. In W. Haase and H. Temporini (eds), ANRW II.36.3. Berlin: Walter de Gruyter, pp. 1518–43. Mansfeld, J. (1979), ‘Providence and Destruction of the Universe in Early Stoic Thought with Some Remarks on the “Mysteries of Philosophy”’. In M. J. Vermaseren (ed.), Studies in Hellenistic Religions. Leiden: Brill, pp. 129–88. Marböck, J. (1999), Weisheit im Wandel. Untersuchungen zur Weisheittheologie bei Ben Sira mit Nachwort und Bibliographie zur Neuauflage. BZAW 272. Berlin: Walter de Gruyter. Martens, J. W. (1994), ‘Romans 2.14-16: A Stoic Reading’. NTS 40: 55–67. Martin, D. B. (1990), Slavery as Salvation: The Metaphor of Slavery in Pauline Christianity. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press. —(1995a), The Corinthian Body. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press. —(1995b), ‘Heterosexism and the Interpretation of Romans 1:18–32’. Biblical Interpreta­ tion 3: 332–55. Martyn, J. L. (2002), ‘De-apocalypticizing Paul: An Essay Focused on Paul and the Stoics by Troels Engberg-Pedersen’. JSNT 86: 61–102. Marxsen, W. (1955), ‘Der   Röm 13,8’. TZ 11: 230–7. Metzger, B. M. (1968), Historical and Literary Studies: Pagan, Jewish and Christian. New Testament Tools and Studies 8. Leiden: Brill. Michel, O. (1978), Der Brief an die Römer. KEK 4. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht. Milgrom, J. (2000), Leviticus 17–22: A New Translation with Introduction and Commentary. AB 3A. New York: Doubleday. Moo, D. J. (1996), The Epistle to the Romans. NICNT. Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans. Morris, L. (1988), The Epistle to the Romans. Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans. Moulton, J. H., Howard, W. F. and Turner, N. (1957–63), A Grammar of New Testament Greek, vols 1–3. Edinburgh: T&T Clark. Moulton, J. H. and Milligan, G. (1949), The Vocabulary of the Greek Testament Illustrated from the Papyri and Other Non-Literary Sources. London: Hodder and Stoughton. Müller, K. (1985), ‘Die religionsgeschichtliche Methode. Erwägungen zu ihrem Verständnis und zur Praxis ihrer Vollzüge an neutestamentlichen Texten’. BZ 29: 161–92.



Bibliography

169

Murray, J. (1965–67), The Epistle to the Romans: The English Text with Introduction, Exposi­ tion and Notes. NICNT. Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans. Mussies, G. (1972), Dio Chrysostom and the New Testament. SCHNT 2. Leiden: Brill. Nestle, D. (1967), Eleutheria. Studien zum Wesen der Freiheit bei den Griechen und im Neuen Testament. Teil I: Die Griechen. Tübingen: J. C. B. Mohr (Paul Siebeck). Newman, R. J. (1989), ‘Cotidie Meditare. Theory and Practice of the Meditatio in Imperial Stoicism’. In W. Haase and H. Temporini (eds), ANRW II.36.3. Berlin: Walter de Gruyter, pp. 1473–1517. Nguyen, V. H. T. (2008), Christian Identity in Corinth: A Comparative Study of 2 Corinthi­ ans, Epictetus and Valerius Maximus. WUNT, 2.243. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck. Nissinen, M. (1998), Homoeroticism in the Biblical World: A Historical Perspective. Minneapolis: Fortress Press. Nussbaum, M. C. (1994), The Therapy of Desire: Theory and Practice in Hellenistic Ethics. Martin Classical Lectures, New Series 2. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press. —(2002), ‘The Incomplete Feminism of Musonius Rufus, Platonist, Stoic, and Roman’. In M. C. Nussbaum and J. Sihvola (eds), The Sleep of Reason: Erotic Experience and Sexual Ethics in Ancient Greece and Rome. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, pp. 283–326. O’Donnell, J. J. (1992), Augustine, Confessions II. Commentary on Books 1–7. Oxford: Clarendon Press. Oldfather, W. A. (1927), Contributions Toward a Bibliography of Epictetus. Urbana, IL: University of Illinois Press. —(1952), Contributions Toward a Bibliography of Epictetus. A Supplement, edited by M. Harman, with a preliminary list of Epictetus manuscripts by W. H. Friedrich and C. U. Faye. Urbana, IL: University of Illinois Press. —(1985–95) – see Sources: Epictetus 1985–95. Ortkemper, F.-J. (1980), Leben aus dem Glauben. Christliche Grundhaltungen nach Römer 12–13. NTAbh, Neue Folge 14. Münster: Aschendorff. Parker, R. (1990), Miasma: Pollution and Purification in Early Greek Religion. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Paulus, C. (1996), ‘Adsertor’. In H. Cancik and H. Schneider (eds), DNP 1. Stuttgart: Verlag J. B. Metzler, p. 132. Petzke, G. (1970), Die Traditionen über Apollonios von Tyana und das Neue Testament. SCHNT 1. Leiden: Brill. Plank, K. A. (1987), Paul and the Irony of Affliction. SemeiaSt. Atlanta: Scholars Press. Pohlenz, M. (1948), Die Stoa. Geschichte einer geistigen Bewegung, vol. 1. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht. —(1949a), Die Stoa. Geschichte einer geistigen Bewegung, vol. 2. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht. —(1949b), ‘Paulus und die Stoa’. ZNW 42: 69–104. —(1955), Griechische Freiheit. Wesen und Werden eines Lebensideals. Heidelberg: Quelle & Meyer. Rabbow, P. (1954), Seelenführung. Methodik der Exerziten in der Antike. München: KöselVerlag. Radt, S. L. von (1990), ‘Zu Epiktets Diatriben’. Mnemosyne 43: 364–73. Räisänen, H. (1987), Paul and the Law. 2nd edn, rev. and enlarged. WUNT 29. Tübingen: J. C. B. Mohr (Paul Siebeck). —(1992), Jesus, Paul and Torah: Collected Essays. JSNTSup 43. Sheffield: JSOT Press. —(2000), Beyond New Testament Theology. 2nd edn. London: SCM Press. —(2001), Challenges to Biblical Interpretation: Collected Essays 1991–2000. Leiden: Brill. —(2005), ‘What I Meant and What I Might Mean ... An Attempt at Responding’. In T. Penner and C. Vander Stichele (eds), Moving Beyond New Testament Theology: Essays in

170

Paul and Epictetus on Law

Conversation with Heikki Räisänen. PFES 88. Helsinki: Finnish Exegetical Society, pp. 400–43. Reale, G. (1990), A History of Ancient Philosophy, vol. 4. New York: State University of New York Press. Reese, J. M. (1970), Hellenistic Influence on the Book of Wisdom and its Consequences. Analecta biblica 41. Rome: Biblical Institute Press. Rengstorf, K. H. (1974), ‘ ’. In R. Kittel et al. (eds), Theological Dictionary of the New Testament, vol. 8. Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, pp. 530–44. Rickert, G. (1987), ‘Akrasia and Euripides’ Medea’. Harvard Studies in Classical Philology 91: 91–117. Riekkinen, V. (1980), Römer 13. Aufzeichung und Weiterführung der exegetischen Diskus­ sion. Annales Academiae scientiarum fennicae, Dissertationes Humanarum Litterarum 23. Helsinki: Suomalainen tiedeakatemia. Rist, J. M. (1969), Stoic Philosophy. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Robbins, V. K. (1996), The Tapestry of Early Christian Discourse: Rhetoric, Society and Ide­ ology. London: Routledge. Robinson, R. (1977), ‘Aristotle on Akrasia’. In J. Barnes, M. Schofield and R. Sorabji (eds), Articles on Aristotle, vol. 2: Ethics and Politics. London: Duckworth, pp. 79–91. Saarinen, R. (2006), ‘The Pauline Luther and the Law: Lutheran Theology Reengages the Study of Paul’. Pro Ecclesia 15: 64–86. —(2008), ‘The Pauline Luther and the Law: Lutheran Theology Reengages the Study of Paul’. In L. Aejmelaeus and A. Mustakallio (eds), The Nordic Paul: Finnish Approaches to Pauline Theology. LNTS 374. London: T&T Clark, pp. 90–113. Sand, A. (1991), ‘, ’. In H. Balz and G. Schneider (eds), Exegetical Dictionary of the New Testament, vol. 2. Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, pp. 478–79. Sandbach, F. H. (1989), The Stoics. Bristol: Bristol Press. Sandelin, K.-G. (2003), ‘Drawing the Line: Paul on Idol Food and Idolatry in 1 Cor 8:1– 11:1’. In D. E. Aune, T. Seland and J. H. Ulrichsen (eds), Neotestamentica et Philonica. Studies in Honor of Peder Borgen. NovTSup 106. Leiden: Brill, pp. 108–25. Sanders, E. P. (1977), Paul and Palestinian Judaism: A Comparison of Patterns of Religion. London: SCM Press. —(1983), Paul, the Law, and the Jewish People. Philadelphia: Fortress Press. —(1999), ‘Reflections on Anti-Judaism in the New Testament and in Christianity’. In William R. Farmer (ed.), Anti-Judaism and the Gospels. Harrisburg, PA: Trinity Press International, pp. 265–86. Sandmel, S. (1962), ‘Parallelomania’. Journal of Biblical Literature 81: 1–13. —(1978), Judaism and Christian Beginnings. New York: Oxford University Press. Sandnes, K. O. (1991), Paul, One of the Prophets: A Contribution to the Apostle’s SelfUnderstanding. WUNT 2.43. Tübingen: J. C. B. Mohr (Paul Siebeck). Satlow, M. L. (2001), Jewish Marriage in Antiquity. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press. Schenkl, H. (1965) – see Sources: Epictetus 1965. Schlier, H. (1977), Der Römerbrief. Herders theologischer Kommentar zum Neuen Testament 6. Freiburg: Herder. Schmeller, T. (1987), Paulus und die ‘Diatribe’. Eine vergleichende Stilinterpretation. NTAbh, Neue Folge 19. Münster: Aschendorf. Schmidt, H. W. (1963), Der Brief des Paulus an die Römer. THKNT 6. Berlin: Evangelische Verlagsanstalt. Schmithals, W. (1988), Der Römerbrief. Ein Kommentar. Gütersloh: Gütersloher Verlagshaus Gerd Mohn. Schmitz, O. (1923), Der Freiheitsgedanke bei Epiktet und das Freiheitszeugnis des Paulus. Ein religionsgeschichtliche Vergleich. NTF, erste Reihe: Paulusstudien 1. Gütersloh: C. Bertelsmann.



Bibliography

171

Schrage, W. (1964), ‘Die Stellung zur Welt bei Paulus, Epiktet und in der Apokalyptik. Ein Beitrag zu 1Kor 7,29-31’. ZTK 61: 125–54. —(1995), Der Erste Brief an die Korinther. EKKNT 7/2. Solothurn: Benziger. Schrenk, G. (1974), ‘ ’. In R. Kittel et al. (eds), Theological Dictionary of the New Testament, vol. 1. Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, pp. 742–73. Schunack, G. (1967), Das hermeneutische Problem des Todes im Horizont von Römer 5 untersucht. HUT 7. Tübingen: J. C. B. Mohr (Paul Siebeck). Schweighäuser, I. (1799a–d, 1800) – see Sources: Epictetus 1799a–d/1800. Schweingruber, F. (1943), ‘Sokrates und Epiktet’. Hermes 78: 52–79. Schwemer, A. M. (1996), ‘Zum Verhältnis von Diatheke und Nomos in den Schriften der jüdischen Diaspora Ägyptens in Hellenistische-römischer Zeit’. In F. Avemarie and H. Lichtenberger (eds), Bund und Tora. Zur theologischen Begriffsgeschichte in alt­ testamentlicher, frühjüdischer und urchristlicher Tradition. WUNT 92. Tübingen: J. C. B. Mohr (Paul Siebeck), pp. 67–109. Seeley, D. (1990), The Noble Death: Graeco-Roman Martyrology and Paul’s Concept of Sal­ vation. JSNTSup 28. Sheffield: JSOT Press. Seelig, G. (1996), ‘Einführung’. In G. Strecker and U. Schnelle, Neuer Wettstein. Texte zum Neuen Testament aus Griechentum und Hellenismus. Berlin: Walter de Gruyter, IX–XXIII. Sevenster, J. N. (1961), Paul and Seneca. NovTSup 4. Leiden: Brill. —(1966), ‘Education or Conversion: Epictetus and the Gospels’. NovT 8: 247–62. Sharp, D. S. (1914), Epictetus and the New Testament. London: Charles H. Kelly. Sicherl, M. (1993), Dir griechischen Erstausgaben des Vettore Trincavelli. Studien zur Geschichte und Kultur des Altertums, Neue Folge, 1. Reihe 5. Paderborn: Ferdinand Schöningh. Sidebottom, H. (1993), ‘Philosophers’ Attitudes to Warfare under the Principate’. In J. Rich and G. Shipley (eds), War and Society in the Roman World. Leicester-Nottingham Studies in Ancient Society 5. London: Routledge, pp. 241–64. Smith, A. (2004), ‘“Unmasking the Powers”: Toward a Postcolonial Analysis of 1 Thessalonians’. In R. A. Horsley (ed.), Paul and the Roman Imperial Order. Harrisburg, PA: Trinity Press International, pp. 47–66. Smith, J. Z. (1990), Drudgery Divine: On the Comparison of Early Christianities and the Reli­ gions of Late Antiquity. Jordan Lectures in Comparative Religion Series 14. London: School of Oriental and African Studies, University of London. Smyth, H. W. (1984), Greek Grammar. Rev. G. M. Messing. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press. Sorabji, R. (2000), Emotion and Peace of Mind: From Stoic Agitation to Christian Tempta­ tion. The Gifford Lectures. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Souilhé, J. (1943–65) – see Sources: Epictetus 1943–65. Spanje, T. E. van (1999), Inconsistency in Paul? A Critique of the Work of Heikki Räisänen. WUNT 2.110. Tübingen: J. C. B. Mohr. Spanneut, M. (1962), ‘Epiktet’. In T. Klauser et al. (eds), RAC V. Stuttgart: Anton Hiersemann, pp. 599–681. Stadter, P. A. (1980), Arrian of Nicomedia. Chapel Hill, NC: North Carolina University Press. Stanton, G. R. (1967), ‘The Cosmopolitan Ideas of Epictetus and Marcus Aurelius’. Phrone­ sis 12: 183–95. Starr, C. G. (1949), ‘Epictetus and the Tyrant’. Classical Philology 44: 20–9. Stein, R. H. (1989), ‘The Argument of Romans 13:1–7’. NovT 31: 325–43. Stellwag, H. W. F. (1933) – see Sources: Epictetus 1933. Stephens, W. O. (1996), ‘Epictetus on How the Stoic Sage Loves’. Oxford Studies in Ancient Philosophy 14: 192–210.

172

Paul and Epictetus on Law

Stowers, S. K. (1988), ‘The Diaribe’. In D. E. Aune (ed.), Greco-Roman Literature and the New Testament: Selected Forms and Genres. Society of Biblical Literature Sources for Biblical Study 21. Atlanta: Scholars Press, pp. 71–83. —(1994), A Rereading of Romans: Justice, Jews, and Gentiles. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press. —(1995), ‘Romans 7.7–25 as a Speech-in-Character ()’. In T.  EngbergPedersen (ed.), Paul in His Hellenistic Context. Minneapolis: Fortress Press, pp. 180–202. —(2003), ‘Apostrophe,  and Paul’s Rhetorical Education’. In J. T. Fitzgerald, T. H. Olbricht and L. M. White (eds), Early Christianity and Classical Culture. Comparative Studies in Honor of Abraham J. Malherbe. NovTSup 110. Leiden: Brill, pp. 351-69. Strack, H. L. and Billerbeck, P. (1978–85), Kommentar zum Neuen Testament aus Talmud und Midrasch, vols 1–6. München: C.H. Beck’sche Verlagshandlung. Strecker, G. and Schnelle, U. (1996–2001), Neuer Wettstein. Texte zum Neuen Testament aus Griechentum und Hellenismus. Berlin: Walter de Gruyter. Strobel, A. (1956), ‘Zum Verständnis von Rm 13’. ZNW 47: 67–93. —(1964), ‘Furcht, wem Furcht Gebührt. Zum profangriechischen Hintergrund von Rm 13.7’. ZNW 55: 58–62. Sundkvist, M. (2008), Christian Laws in Paul: Reading the Apostle with Early Greek Inter­ preters. University of Joensuu Publications in Theology 20. Joensuu: University of Joensuu. Taubes, J. (2004), The Political Theology of Paul. Stanford: Stanford University Press. Theissen, G. (1987), Psychological Aspects of Pauline Theology. Philadelphia: Fortress Press. Thesleff, H. (1990), ‘Divine and Human Law in Early Platonism’. In T. Veijola (ed.), The Law in the Bible and in its Environment. PFES 51. Helsinki: The Finnish Exegetical Society, pp. 91–108. Thom, J. C. (2005), Cleanthes’ Hymn to Zeus: Text, Translation, and Commentary. Studies and Texts in Antiquity and Christianity 33. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck. Thorsteinsson (2006), R. M., ‘Paul and Roman Stoicism: Romans 12 and Contemporary Stoic Ethics’. JSNT 29: 139–61. Thurén, L. (2000), Derhetorizing Paul: A Dynamic Perspective on Pauline Theology and the Law. WUNT 124. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck. —(2002), ‘Romans 7 Derhetorized’. In S. E. Porter and D. L. Stamps (eds), Rhetorical Criti­ cism and the Bible. JSNTSup 195. London: Sheffield Academic Press, pp. 420–40. Tobin, T. H. (1983), The Creation of Man: Philo and the History of Interpretation. Catholic Biblical Quarterly Monograph Series 14. Washington DC: Catholic Biblical Association of America. Toynbee, A. J. (1951), A Study of History, vol. 6. London: Oxford University Press. Tyson, J. B. (1999), ‘Anti-Judaism in the Critical Study of the Gospels’. In W. R. Farmer (ed.), Anti-Judaism and the Gospels. Harrisburg, PA: Trinity Press International, pp. 216–51. Umbach, H. (1999), In Christus getauft, von der Sünde befreit: Die Gemeinde als sünden­ freier Raum bei Paulus. FRLANT 181. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht. Unnik, W. M. van (1975), ‘Lob und Strafe durch die Obrigkeit. Hellenistisches zu Röm 13,34’. In E. E. Ellis and E. Grässer (eds), Jesus und Paul. Festschrift W. G. Kümmel. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, pp. 334–43. Valantasis, R. (1999), ‘Musonius Rufus and Roman Ascetical Theory’. Greek, Roman, and Byzantine Studies 40: 207–31. Vegge, T. (2006), Paulus und das Antike Schulwesen. Schule und Bildung des Paulus. BZNW 134. Berlin: Walter de Gruyter.



Bibliography

173

Vögtle, A. (1936), Die Tugend- und Lasterkataloge im Neuen Testament exegetisch, reli­ gions- und formgeschichtlich untersucht. NTAbh 16, 4–5. Münster: Verlag der Aschendorffschen Verlagsbuchhandlung. Vollenweider, S. (1989), Freiheit als neue Schöpfung. Eine Untersuchung zur Eleutheria bei Paulus und in seiner Umwelt. FRLANT 147. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht. Vretska, K. (1976) – see Sources: Sallust 1976. Wattles, J. (1996), The Golden Rule. New York: Oxford University Press. Weber, R. (1999), ‘Die Distanz im Verhältnis zur Welt bei Epiktet, Jesus und Paulus’. In B. Kollmann, W. Reinbold and A. Steudel (eds), Antikes Judentum und frühes Christen­ tum. Festschrift H. Stegemann. BZNW 97. Berlin: Walter de Gruyter, pp. 327–49. —(2000), Das Gesetz im hellenistischen Judentum. Studien zum Verständnis und zur Funk­ tion der Thora von Demetrios bis Pseudo-Phokylides. Arbeiten zur Religion und Geschichte des Urchristentums 10. Frankfurt am Main: Peter Lang. Weiss, E. (1930), ‘Manumissio’. In A. F. Pauly, G. Wissowa et al. (eds), Paulys Realency­ clopädie der classischen Altertumswissenschaft 14.2. Stuttgart: Alfred Druckenmüller Verlag, pp. 1366–77. Weiss, J. (1902), Die Christliche Freiheit nach der Verkündigung des Apostels Paulus. Ein Vortrag. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht. —(1917), Das Urchristentum. Nach dem Tode des Verfassers herausgegeben und am Schlusse ergänzt von R. Knopf. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht. Weissenberg, H. von (2009), 4QMMT: Reevaluating the Text, the Function, and the Meaning of the Epilogue. Studies on the Texts of the Desert of Judah 82. Leiden: Brill. Wendland, H. D. (1954), Die Briefe an die Korinther. NTD. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht. Westerholm, S. (2004), Perspectives Old and New on Paul: The ‘Lutheran’ Paul and His Critics. Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans. —(2008), ‘Finnish Contributions to the Debate on Paul and the Law’. In L. Aejmelaeus and A. Mustakallio (eds), The Nordic Paul: Finnish Approaches to Pauline Theology. LNTS 374. London: T&T Clark, pp. 3–15. Wettstein, J. (1962), Novum Testamentum Graecum, vols 1–2. Graz: Akademische Druckund Verlagsanstalt. White, L. M. and Fitzgerald, J. T. (2003), ‘Quod est comparandum: The Problem of Parallels’. In J. T. Fitzgerald, T. H. Olbricht and L. M. White (eds), Early Christianity and Classical Culture: Comparative Studies in Honor of Abraham J. Malherbe. NovTSup 110. Leiden: Brill, pp. 13–39. Wibbing, S. (1959), Die Tugend- und Lasterkataloge im Neuen Testament und ihr Tradition­ sgeschichte unter besonderer Berücksichtigung der Qumran-Texte. BZNW 25. Berlin: Verlag Alfred Töpelmann. Wicke-Reuter, U. (2000), Göttliche Providenz und menschliche Verantwortung bei Ben Sira und in der Frühen Stoa. BZAW 298. Berlin: Walter de Gruyter. Wilckens, U. (1978–82), Der Brief an die Römer. EKKNT 6. Zürich: Benziger Verlag. Wirth, T. (1967), ‘Arrians Errinnerungen an Epiktet’. Museum helveticum 24: 149–89, 197–216. Wolff, C. (1996), Der erste Brief des Paulus an die Korinther. THKNT 7. Leipzig: Evangelische Verlagsanstalt. Zahn, T. (1910), Der Brief des Paulus an die Römer. Kommentar zum Neuen Testament 6. Leipzig: A. Deichert’sche Verlagsbuchhandlung Nachf (Georg Böhme). Zeller, D. (1985), Der Brief an die Römer. Regensburger Neues Testament. Regensburg: Verlag Friedrich Pustet. Ziesler, J. (1989), Paul’s Letter to the Romans. Trinity Press International New Testament Commentaries. London: SCM Press.

Index of Ancient References Hebrew Bible/Septuaginta Genesis 2–3 2.17 5.20 15.6

116, 118 55 147n.81 141

Exodus 5.13 36.1

53 53

Leviticus 16 18.22 19 19.18 20.13

152 62 70 69, 70, 97 62

Numbers 5.20 5.29

80n.17 80n.17

Deuteronomy 22.19 22.29 24.1-3 24.2 25.4 27.26

80 80 80 80, 80n.17, 81 32 143

1 Samuel 9 16

93 93

Psalms 19 29

49 49

1 Maccabees 1.15 117n.58

1 Kings 21.20 21.25

117n.58 117n.58

2 Kings 17.17

117n.58

Psalms 19 29 106.31

49 49 141

4 Maccabees 2.6 116 8.17 124

Proverbs 6.24 6.29 18.22

80n.17 80n.17 80n.17

Early Jewish Literature Josephus Bellum Iudaicum 5.367 93

Isaiah 51.7

58

Jeremiah 3.1 31.33

80n.17 58

Hosea 3.1 3.3

80n.17 80n.17

Wisdom 6.18 12–15 14.23-26

27 50 53

Sirach 9.9 32.23 39.27

80n.17 27 147n.81

2 Maccabees 6.4 53 3 Maccabees 4.16 53

Philo De cherubim 14 54 De decalogo 173

116

De Migratione Abrahami 89-93 27 Quod omnis probus 26 129n.10 51 126 De specialibus legibus 4.84 116 Qumran 4QMMT 26-27 31

141 141

Index of Ancient Sources



175

New Testament Matthew 23.14 24.51

95n.65 110

Mark 7.15 7.21-22 10.11-12 12.40

72n.34 53n.61 81 95n.65

Luke 1–2 1.46-55 1.52 1.67-79 1.69 12.46 12.47-48 16.18 20.47

96 96 96 96 96 110 110 81 95n.65

John 8.32-38 8.34

105n.15 121n.70

Acts 16.3 17.18 21.39 22.3

72n.35 18 2 2

Romans 1–3 1–2 1.17 1.18-32 1.18ff 1.18 1.19-20 1.19 1.20 1.21-24

143 3, 37, 47-8, 155, 157 50 48n.37, 50, 52, 56, 155 50 50 48, 50, 55, 155 49 48 52

1.21-23 1.21-22 1.21 1.22 1.23 1.24 1.25-27 1.25 1.26-27 1.26

1.27 1.28-32 1.28 1.29-31 1.29-30 1.29 1.31 1.32 2 2.7-10 2.9-12 2.12-16 2.12 2.14-16 2.14-15 2.14 2.15 2.16 2.25-29 2.25 2.27 3.9 3.31 3.20–4.15

52 52 49, 52 51 52 50n.51, 51, 52, 59 52 52, 115 48, 52, 57, 59, 60 50n.51, 52, 59n.88, 59n.91 51, 51n.52, 59n.88 48, 52 50n.51, 52, 55 52, 55 51 52, 56 53 48, 52, 55, 56, 151 118 146n.79 56 48 62 56 8, 10, 62 48, 57, 59, 62, 155, 156 57, 58, 58n.86 59 57 57 57 143 145 139

5–8 5 5.2-3 5.3-4 5.5 5.6-7 5.8 5.9 5.12-14 5.12 5.14 5.15-21 5.18-20 6–7 6 6.1-4 6.2 6.3-5 6.3 6.4 6.5 6.6 6.8 6.9-10 6.9 6.11 6.12-20 6.13 6.15 6.17 6.19 6.20 6.21 7

7.1-6 7.1 7.2-3 7.2 7.4 7.5-6 7.6

150 113, 147 147 147, 150 147 152 152 152 117, 124 55, 120 151 151 151 146 113, 147, 150 148 148n.85 146n.80 149 149, 150 148, 149 148, 149 148 149 149 149 114 149 147 148, 149, 151 147, 148 148 148 101, 119, 122, 123, 124, 126, 145, 157 80 79 75, 79-81, 117 81 79, 113 113 79, 81, 117

176 Romans (cont.) 7.7-25 112–15, 156 7.7-13 115–18, 145, 156 7.7 116, 120, 124, 145 7.8 113 7.9 116 7.10-13 114 7.11 114, 117, 120 7.12 113, 124 7.13 114, 116, 120, 145 7.14-25 115, 117, 118–22, 145 7.14-17 120 7.14 114, 117, 118, 120 7.15-20 114 7.15-17 119 7.15 118 7.17 114, 119, 120, 122 7.18-20 119, 120 7.18 114, 118, 122 7.20 114, 119, 120, 122 7.21–8.2 124 7.21-25 113, 125, 156 7.21 118, 124 7.22 124 7.22-25 119 7.22 123 7.23 114, 118, 124, 126 7.24 114, 122, 123, 125 7.25 115, 124 8 120n.66, 121, 123, 145, 147 8.1 113 8.2 113, 114, 125 8.3-4 145, 152

Index of Ancient Sources 8.3 8.4 8.5-8 8.6 8.9-11 8.9-10 8.10-11 8.11-13 8.11 8.14 8.15 8.17 8.18-25 8.18-23 8.19 8.23 8.28 8.32 8.35-39 9.1 10.5-13 11.21 11.24 11.36 12–13 12.9-10 12.9 12.14-21 12.14 12.17-18 12.17 12.19 12.21 13–15 13 13.1-7 13.1-2 13.1 13.2

13.3-4 13.3 13.5

126, 152 113, 149n.88, 150, 151 126, 145 146 123 126n.87 114, 123 114 123, 146 150 146 146, 151 122 122 147 123, 147 147 151, 152 147 58 139 57 57 147 97 69 97 73 71 71 97 94, 95 97 63 155 92–100 95n.66 95n.66 92, 93 ,95, 95n.66, 98, 156 95, 95n.66, 97 95n.66, 96 94, 96

13.7 13.8-10

13.8 13.9 13.10 13.11-14 13.11 13.13 13.14 14–15 14 14.1ff 14.1 14.2 14.3 14.3-4 14.5-6 14.10 14.14-15 14.14 14.15 14.17 14.20 14.21 14.23 15.1 15.7-12 1.Corinthians 1.1 4.4 4.7-15 6.19-20 7 7.2 7.9 7.10-11 7.10 7.14 7.17-24

98 68, 69–71, 72n.35, 92, 97, 98, 141, 145 73, 98 27, 72, 155, 156 97 69, 98n.80 98 149n.88 99 68, 71, 93, 99 72n.35 69, 71 71 68 68 72 71 72 72, 73 72n.34 149n.88 146n.79 72 68 72 68 68 29 58 84 30n.32 20, 36, 157 82 82 81 81 82 27–31, 33, 36

Index of Ancient Sources

7.17 7.18-19 7.19 7.20 7.21 7.22-23 7.22 7.23 7.29-31 7.32-35 7.36 7.39 8 8.5-6 8.7 8.9 9 9.7-10 9.7 9.8-10 9.12 9.16-18 9.17 9.18

28 33 26, 30, 34, 36, 154 27–8 28-29, 29n.27, 30 36 29n.27, 30 30 31, 98n.80 83 82 81 32 15 58, 150 32 20, 32, 36, 155 33 32 32-33 32 34n.40, 35–6 35 35n.48

9.19-21 9.20 9.21 10.28 11.14-15 11.14 12.13

33–5, 36 34 8, 34, 36 58 57 57n.79 30

2 Corinthians 1.12 58 4.2 58 5.11 58 Galatians 2.15–3.14 2.15 3.6-7 3.28 3.10 4.1-11 4.8 5.3-6 5.13-23 5.14 5.15 5.16-17 5.22-23 6.10

139 57 141 30 143 57n.77 57 139 145 27, 69 56 114n.40 107n.22 71

Philemon 3.1-11 3.3-6

139 114

177 Colossians 1.16

93n.59

1 Thessalonians 4.4 61 5.15 71 2 Timothy 2.5

129n.12

Titus 2.14 3.12

151 87

James 1.15 3.1

116 95n.65

1 Peter 2.13-17

93

Early Christian Literature Augustine Conf. 2.4-6 116 Barn. 20.1-2

53n.61

Ignatius Trall. 10.1

38

Rhet. 1354a

85n.36

Ps.-Aristotle Mund. 399b

49n.43

Athenaeus Deipn. 5.129b 14.623e

133n.29 90

Cicero Leg. 2.14

90

Greek and Roman Literature Achilles Tatius Leuc. Clit. 8.10.12 80n.21

1109b 1128a 1134b 1147a 1180a

128n.4 57 78 118 99n.83

Aelian Var. hist. 11.12

133n.29

Aristotle Eth. Nic. 1102a-1103a 1102b 1103a-b 1105a-b 1105b

Met. 1015a-b 96n.74 1072a-1073a 38n.4

103 118 134 135 134

Pol. 1284a 1294a 1324a-b 1327a

57 85n.36 99n.83 85n.36

Index of Ancient Sources

178 Off. 2.22-29 3.102

99n.83 51

Sen. 70

45n.32

Diodorus Siculus Bibliotheca Historica 4.59.1 137 Diogenes Laertios 2.36 133n.29 6.50 136 7.160 45n.32 10.151 97 Epictetus Disc. 1.2.19-21 1.3 1.3.1 1.3.3-6 1.3.3 1.3.4 1.3.5 1.3.6 1.3.7-8 1.4.5 1.4.10 1.4.11 1.4.23-24 1.4.25-26 1.4.31 1.4.32 1.6 1.6.1 1.6.9 1.6.15 1.6.24 1.6.32 1.8.14 1.9.11-14 1.9.13 1.9.16 1.9.19 1.9.23-24 1.12.1-7 1.12.1-3

86n.39 145 110 108, 110 109, 123 107n.21, 110 123 110 110 44-5 44 44 123 124 52 39 38 39, 49 46–7, 60 45 39, 49 136 110n.33 109 91n.55 91n.55 130 25n.10 37–9 38

1.12.7 1.12.15-17 1.12.32 1.13.1-5 1.13.2 1.13.3-5 1.13.3 1.13.5 1.16 1.16.7 1.16.19 1.16.20 1.17.15-18 1.18.6 1.18.9 1.18.20 1.19.7 1.19.11-14 1.19.13 1.19.25 1.20.15 1.22.3 1.22.4 1.22.11-14 1.22.18 1.24.8 1.25.4 1.25.11-12 1.25.28 1.26.1-2 1.26.1 1.26.2 1.27.5 1.27.4-6 1.27.7-10 1.27.8 1.27.21 1.28.7 1.28.8-9 1.28.9 1.29.1-4 1.29.4 1.29.5-10 1.29.5-7 1.29.11-15

40, 83, 92, 94 39 39 67, 110– 12 110 30, 111 26, 91 26, 125, 126, 156 38 39 107n.21 110n.33 90 104 104 149n.88 107n.21 68 70 39 38 85n.36 71 22 107n.21 129n.13 91 43n.23 21 43 126 43 123, 128 128 128 128n.8 52 103, 104, 105 104 104, 105 20–2, 23, 63 33, 36 63 22 63–4

1.29.12 1.29.13 1.29.14-15 1.29.16 1.29.18 1.29.19 1.29.21 1.29.30-32 1.29.39 1.29.41-47 1.29.44-49 1.29.46 1.29.47 1.29.49 1.30.1 1.30.6-7 2.1.3 2.1.15 2.1.19-24 2.1.21-25

2.1.21 2.1.23-24 2.1.24 2.1.39 2.2.9 2.4.2 2.4.8-11 2.4.10 2.4.11 2.5.1 2.5.22 2.5.26 2.6.2 2.6.11-19 2.8.12-14 2.8.12 2.8.14 2.8.15 2.8.24 2.9.10-12 2.9.13 2.9.14 2.9.19-21 2.9.20 2.9.21 2.10.4

64 ?? 64 64 64 43, 64n.6, 65, 155 105 65 24 45 26 26 21 26 88, 91, 96 88, 96 107n.21 106n.16 89 90, 105n.15, 106–7, 117 107 121 107 26 135 79 77–9 75, 78 79 21, 22 24 38, 86 22 122 111 76n.3 39 76n.3 130 134 128 128 18 60 130 45, 60

Index of Ancient Sources

2.10.7-13 2.10.17 2.11.11 2.13.5-8 2.13.6 2.14.8 2.14.11 2.16.2 2.16.13 2.16.24 2.16.25 2.16.26 2.16.27-28 2.16.28 2.16.29 2.16.40 2.16.42 2.16.44-46 2.16.44 2.16.45 2.17.13-18 2.17.13 2.17.17-18 2.17.18 2.17.21-22 2.17.22 2.17.26 2.17.40 2.18.1-14 2.18.21 2.18.22 2.19.9 2.19.24-25 2.19.27 2.20.15 2.20.22-26 2.20.22 2.20.23-24 2.20.25 2.20.26 2.21.10 2.22.15-16 2.23.5 2.26.1 2.26.1-2 2.26.4 3.1.19-20

45 45 50n.44 102, 117 76 24 85n.36 22 22 22, 23 22–3, 23n. 7 23 23–4, 136 24 23n.7 23 24 137, 138, 151 138, 150, 151 139 113 101 101 121 102 122 41 78n.8 128 130 47 78n.8 130, 143 110, 123 44 85 85n.34 85 85 85–6 85n.36 105 39 120 105, 120 105, 120 25n.10

3.1.36-37 3.1.37 3.2.4 3.2.13 3.3.8 3.7.32 3.7.33 3.9.14 3.10.6-7 3.10.8-9 3.10.8 3.11.1-3 3.11.2 3.11.3 3.12.6-7 3.12.17 3.13.4-5 3.13.4 3.13.14-15 3.13.15 3.17.1-3 3.17.4-6 3.17.6 3.17.7-9 3.17.9 3.19.4-6 3.21.7 3.22.2 3.22.13 3.22.30 3.22.43 3.22.46-49 3.22.57 3.22.59 3.22.69-72 3.22.69 3.22.76 3.22.86-88 3.22.94-96 3.22.94 3.24 3.24.1-12 3.24.4 3.24.13-16 3.24.13 3.24.16 3.24.18-20 3.24.22 3.24.37 3.24.41-43

21n.2 39 24 78n.8 24 86 111 3 129 129 76 39, 41–2 42 130 128 129 17n.67 98 109 98 66 66–7 43, 66 67 67, 73 128 78n.8 39 41 86n.39 54 132 138 132, 147 83 77 77, 82 132 44n.26 44, 86, 97 42 39 41 137, 138 151 138, 150 130 41 39 41

179 3.24.41 3.24.42-43 3.24.43 3.24.58-60 3.24.60 3.24.64-66 3.24.64 3.24.66-73 3.24.66 3.24.74 3.24.76-77 3.24.78 3.24.82-84 3.24.95-98 3.24.98-100 3.24.98 3.24.104-110 3.24.107 3.24.111-112 3.24.111 3.24.113-114 3.24.115-118 3.25.9-10 3.26.1 3.26.29 3.26.31-32 3.26.31 3.26.32 4.1.1-4 4.1.2-3 4.1.4 4.1.8 4.1.15-23 4.1.103-106 4.1.123 4.1.143 4.1.147 4.1.152 4.1.153 4.1.154 4.1.155-156 4.1.155 4.1.158 4.1.159 4.1.160-62

40, 41, 56 39, 40–1, 137 41, 42, 51, 53 40 133 132 152 40 132 40 88 39 41 24 24–5 36 84 84, 94 84 3 25–6, 84, 94 26 110 138n.45 84 138 138, 150, 151 151 105 104, 121 41 105 46 122 133 76n.3 77 131 131 131, 152 131 132 131, 132, 133 133 134

Index of Ancient Sources

180 Disc. (cont.) 4.1.162-69 4.1.163 4.1.164-65 4.1.167 4.1.168-69 4.1.168 4.1.171 4.3.9-10 4.3.9 4.3.10-12 4.3.10-11 4.3.12 4.4.7 4.4.18 4.4.45 4.5.3 4.5.33 4.7 4.7.1 4.7.6 4.7.8-10 4.7.16-17 4.7.29 4.7.30 4.7.32 4.7.33-36 4.7.34-36 4.7.36 4.8.5 4.8.20 4.8.43 4.10.10 4.11.21-23 4.12.19 Epictetus Fragm. 11 15 26 Ench. 1.1 7 8

134 134, 143 135 136 136 152 86 25 36 90–2 91 91 107, 108, 115, 130, 149 39, 108 69n.26 133 133 87, 96 87 13, 18, 87, 98 88n.43 87–8, 89 129n.13 89 109 88–90 89 89 57n.79 24 130 136 132 69n.26, 130, 145

11 16 17 33.8 41 47 49 50 51.2 52 52.1

24 65–6, 73 45 75–7, 82 76n.3 128, 129 38n.7 127 127 130 129n.13

Euripides Med. 1078-1079

103

Tro. 936

117n.58

Galen De Placitis Hippocratis et Platonis 3.3.13-22 103n.8 Herodotus Hist. 2.44

136

Homer Hymns 15.9

136

Homer Od. 5.82-84 10.279-280 17.487

130 38 138

Lucian Anach. 3

129n.10

45 77 109

Lucretius De Rerum Natura 2.646-649 38n.4 5.22-48 139

21 29n.31 122

Marcus Aurelius Med. 4.21 109n.30 4.23 147

6.39 7.23 7.32 9.29 11.1.2 11.3 12.36

70 109n.30 109n.30 99n.83 70 13 45n.32

Maximus of Tyre Dissertationes 1.1 45n.32 15.6d 138 Musonius Rufus 6 128, 135 12 61, 76 13 79 14 79 29 136n.35 32 54 Ovid Am. 2.19.3 3.4.17

116 116

Met. 7.17-21

103n.8

Pausanias Descr. 5.24.9

129

Pindar Nem. 7.94-97

136

Plato Apol. 28e-29a 30c-d 32b-d 32c 34b-d 41c-d

25n.10 73 134n.30 89 134n.30 147n.81

Crito 47e 50a 53b-c 54d

134 84 85n.36 84

Index of Ancient Sources

Gorg. 482c-484c

78

Lach. 181b

134n.30

Leg. 624a-b 636c 836c-841d 890d 927b 950a 951b

92 60, 61 60 57,58n.82 85n.36 85n.36 85n.36

Min. 320b-321b

92

Phaed. 62b 67c-d 67d 114d 253c-256d

25n.10 122 109 59 61

Phaedr. 253c-256d

Phileb. 50b Resp. 434d-441c

52, 103, 119

45n.32

443b-e 457c-d 458c 472a-473a 507b 589b 607c

52, 61, 103, 119 135 77 78 77 49 109 85n.36

Symp. 219c 219e-221b

47 134n.30

Tim. 47b-c

49

Sallust Bell. Cat. 1.2

109n.31

Seneca Con. 18.5

133n.29

Ep. 47 90 90.4 104.27

67, 110 48 73 133n.29

Med. 938-944

103n.8

Nat. 3.30.5

31, 59

Simplicius In Ench. 134

127

Sophocles Phil. 978

117n.58

Suetonius Aug. 2.94 99.1

96 45n.32

Claud. 25

40

SVF 1.154 1.162 1.179 1.182 1.244 1.269 1.530 1.532 1.534 1.537 1.559 1.570

91n.52 38n.11 69n.25 38 77 77 91n.52 91n.52 91n.52 105 107 120–1

181 2.634 2.906 2.937 2.1076 2.1178 2.1012 2.1064 2.1077 3.4 3.65 3.117 3.119 3.122 3.123 3.314 3.332 3.371 3.439 3.386-88 3.391-94 3.391 3.397 3.412-416 3.432 3.473 3.513 3.619 3.622 3.728

91n.52 103 38n.6 38n.11 38n.6 37n.2 91n.52 91n.52 38n.11 133n.29 24n.9 24n.9 24n.9 24n.9 25n.11 107 135 61 41n.16 41n.16 61 41 41 13 103 54 107 107 77

Tacitus Ann. 11.2 11.26-38 11.30 15.44

80 80 80 95

Thucydides Hist. 5.105

93

Virgil Ecl. 4

96

Xenophon Mem. 1.1.9 1.1.18

38 134n.30

Index of Ancient Sources

182 1.2.41-46 1.4 4.3 4.4.13 4.4.25

99n.83 49 49 135 135

Oec. 9.14

85n.36

Symp. 4.48-49

38, 38n.8

Index of Authors Abegg, M. G.  141n.59 Aejmelaeus, L.  32n.37, 35n.48 Aichele, G.  16n.60 Algra, K.  49n.43, 91n. 53 Almqvist, H.  11n.41 Anderson, R. D.  115n.48 Annas, J.  67n.17 Arjava, A.  80n.20 Aune, D. E.  136n.37, 136n.38, 136n.39, 138n.43, 152n.94 Avemarie, F.  1n.1, 142, 142n.61 Bachmann, M.  8n.32, 45n.29, 140n.47, 141n.55, 142n.67 Balz, H.  49, 49n.41 Barclay, J. M. G.  68n.21 Barnes, J.  43n.21, 43n.22, 43n.23, 128n.5, 129n.13 Barnikol, E.  92, 92n.57, 94, 99 Barr, J.  15, 15n.57 Barrett, C. K.  82n.25, 95n.64, 95n.67, 146n.76 Bartchy, S. S.  28n.24 Barth, H.  6n.24 Behm, J.  119n.63 Benz, E.  29n.31, 98n.81, 109n.30, 11n.36 Berger, K.  11n.41, 17n.63, 105n.15, 120n.66 Bergmeier, R.  140n.47 Betz, H. D.  11, 11n.42, 11n.43, 12n.46, 19n.71, 56n.74, 99n.84, 119n.63, 122n.74 Billerbeck, M.  6, 6n.22, 44n.26, 45n.32, 54, 54n.69, 86n.39 Billerbeck, P.  11n.41 Black, M.  125n.85 Blass, F.  28n.25 Bobzien, S.  6n.22, 24 Boersema J. J.  2n.5 Bonhöffer, A.  5, 5n.20, 6, 6n.21, 9, 12, 13, 18, 21n.2, 24n.9, 25n.11, 26n.15,

26n.16, 29n.31, 37n.2, 38n.7, 38n.11, 40n.14, 41n.15, 42n.17, 43n.24, 44n.25, 44n.26, 44n.27, 45n.32, 47n.35, 52n.56, 53, 53n.63, 54n.65, 54n.70, 57n.79, 58n.82, 60, 60n.94, 64n.4, 70n.28, 75, 75n.1, 76n.3, 78n.8, 79n.9, 79n.10, 86n.38, 88n.43, 89n.46, 91n.51, 91n.52, 91n.54, 98n.81, 103n.4, 103n.7, 105n.12, 105n.15, 107n.21, 108n.26, 109n.27, 109n.28, 109n.30, 111n.35, 111n.36, 120n.66, 123n.78, 128n.5, 130n.14, 130n.17, 130n.18, 131n.19, 131n.20, 131n.23, 135n.34, 136n.36, 146n.78, 151n.93, 153n.100 Boring, M. G.  11n.41, 17n.63, 105n.15, 120n.66 Bornkamm, G.  49n.39, 57n.77, 57n.81, 122n.74, 123n.75 Boter, G.  5n.18, 5n.19, 29n.31, 127n.1 Boyarin, D.  116n.53 Braun, H.  31n.35 Brennan, T.  41n.16 Brooten, B. J.  59n.88, 60n.93 Brown, R. E.  6n.26 Bultmann, R.  3n.10, 7, 21n.3, 21n.4, 58n.85, 60n.95, 67n.16, 85n.35, 115n.50, 116n.53, 119n.63, 120n.66, 122n.74, 124n.83, 144, 144n.71 Burton, E. W. D.  57n.78 Cancik, H.  88n.45, 93n.60, 99n.84 Carson, D. A.  1n.1 Chilton, B.  10n.39 Clemen, C.  16n.59, 18n.70, 19n.72 Colish, M. L.  90n.49 Colpe, C.  11n.41, 17n.63, 105n.15, 120n.66 Conzelmann, H.  28n.23, 34n.44, 35n.47 Cranfield, C. E. B.  49n.39, 50, 50n.48, 50n.49, 50n.51, 55, 55n.72, 57n.76,

184

Index of Authors

59n.90, 68n.21, 69n.23, 115n.51, 116n.54, 119n.63, 123n.75, 126n.87, 146n.80, 147n.81, 148n.85, 149n.88 Croy, N. C.  84n.33, 129n.9 Cullmann, O.  92n.59 Das, A. A.  1n.1, 1n.2, 8, 142, 142n.63 Dautzenberg, G.  9n.34, 26n.16 Davies, W. D.  1n.1 Debrunner, A.  28n.25 Decker, W.  129n.10 Deissmann, A.  10, 10n.40, 18, 18n.69, 30 Deissner, K.  70n.28, 130n.16 Deming, W.  26n.15, 26n.16, 29n.27, 29n.31, 31n.35, 81n.23, 82, 82n.26, 82n.29, 82n.30 Dieter, T.  135n.31 Dihle, A.  101n.1 Dillon, J. M.  103n.8 Distelrath, G.  65n.10 Dobbin, R.  4n.11, 4n.13, 6, 6n.22, 21n.5, 22n.6, 25n.13, 38n.3, 38n.4, 38n.5, 38n.6, 38n.10, 42n.17, 44n.28, 46n.34, 64n.3, 64n.7, 65n.11, 68, 68n.20, 91n.55, 103n.8, 104n.10, 109n.27, 110n.33, 111n.36, 111n.37, 128n.4, 128n.8 Dodd, B.  114n.43, 115n.47 Donaldson, T. L.  16n.61, 18n.70 Döring, K.  25n.10, 38n.8, 133n.29 Dover, K.  75n.2 Downing, F. G.  2n.6, 9, 10n.39, 17n.67, 26n.16, 34n.39, 89n.46, 92, 92n.58, 94, 99n.83 Dragona-Monachou, M.  38n.6, 39n.12 Duchrow, U.  123n.75 Dunderberg, I.  16n.60, 124n.81 Dunn, J. D. G.  1, 50, 50n.44, 50n.45, 50n.46, 50n.48, 50n.50, 51n.54, 52n.58, 55n.73, 57n.77, 59n.90, 68n.21, 68n.22, 69n.23, 69n.24, 70n.27, 71n.32, 72n.36, 80n.17, 80n.19, 80n.20, 117n.58, 119n.65, 122n.74, 123n.75, 124n.82, 140, 140n.48, 140n.49, 140n.50, 140n.51, 141n.53, 141n.54, 146n.76, 146n.77, 146n.80, 147n.81, 147n.82, 148n.84, 148n.85, 149n.88, 151, 151n.92, 152n.95

Eckstein, H.-J.  44n.26, 58n.86, 97n.76 Ehrhardt, A. A. T.  73n.40 Engberg-Pedersen, T.  2, 9, 9n.35, 10, 10n.38, 10n.39, 12, 12n.44, 12n.48, 12n.49, 13, 48n.37, 51n.55, 61n.96, 70, 71, 71n.30, 71n.31, 73n.38, 91n.52, 94n.62, 94n.63, 97, 97n.75, 97n.79, 98n.80, 116n.56, 120n.66, 122n.74, 126n.92, 147, 148n.83, 148n.84, 149, 149n.87, 150n.89 Enslin, M. S.  53n.63 Erskine, A.  77n.6, 99n.85, 99n.86, 106n.20 Esler, P. F.  9n.36, 12n.45 Fee, G. D.  82n.25 Feldman, L. H.  2n.4 Ferguson, E.  3, 3n.9, 13n.51 Fitzgerald, J. T.  11n.41 Fitzmyer, J. A.  80n.16, 80n.17, 97n.76, 146n.76, 148n.85 Forschner, M.  41n.16, 54n.70 Foucault, M.  75n.2, 76n.5, 78n.7, 79n.12 Francis, J. A.  3n.7, 88n.45 Fridrichsen, A.  49, 49n.39, 49n.42 Friedrich, J.  92n.59, 93n.61, 96n.76 Frisk, H.  111n.36 Furley, D. J.  49n.43 Galinsky, G. K.  136n.37, 136n.39, 138n.42, 138n.43 Galloway, L. E.  9, 32, 35n.46, 36n.49 Garrison, R.  129n.9 Gathercole, S. J.  57n.77 Geytenbeek, A. C. van  76n.5 Gill, C.  86n.38, 103n.5,6 Glad, C. E.  73, 73n.39 Greeven, H.  99n.86, 107n.21, 111n.35 Gretenkord, J. C.  6n.24, 29n.29, 31n.35, 130n.17, 131n.19, 144, 144n.72 Gulin, E. G.  91n.55, 109n.30 Gundry, R. H.  114n.43, 115n.44, 115n.51 Guthrie, W. K. C.  136n.37 Guttenberger Ortwein, G.  67n.14, 111n.34 Haacker, K.  92n.59, 96n.74 Hadot, P.  42n.17 Halperin, D. M.  45n.30, 46n.33 Harrill, J. A.  29n.28



Index of Authors

Hartmann, K.  4n.12,13 Heckel, T. K.  109n.28, 119n.63, 120n.66 Hegermann, H.  50n.44 Hengel, M.  2, 2n.4, 87n.40 Hershbell, J.  4n.13, 9n.33, 38n.7 Hietanen, M.  14n.53, Hijmans, B. L.  Jr. 39n.12, 66n.13, 85n.34, 106n.16, 128n.3, 128n.4, 128n.5, 129n.11, 131n.19, 135n.31 Hock, R. F.  79n.10, 130n.16 Hoegen-Rohls, C.  9n.36 Höistad, R.  136n.39, 138n.44 Hommel, H.  103n.8 Horsley, R. A.  95, 95n.68, 95n.69 Horst, P. W. van der  11n.41, 12n.46, 17, 17n.63 Houser, J. S.  76n.5 Howard, W. F.  137n.40 Hübner, H.  1, 10n.39, 69n.25, 116n.52 Huttunen, N.  10n.39 Inwood, B.  42n.18 Jackson-McCabe, M.  71n.33 Jagu, A.  5n.19, 6n.25 Jaquette, J. L.  30n.33, 31n.35, 32n.36 Jolivet, I.  10n.39 Jones, F. S.  2n.6, 9, 9n.34, 26n.16, 30n.32, 88n.43, 126, 126n.88, 152n.97 Joüon, P.  117n.58 Joyce, R.  103n.5, 103n.6 Kaiser, O.  19n.73, 92n.56 Käsemann, E.  26n.16, 58n.83, 58n.85, 93n.60, 94, 94n.63, 97n.78, 115n.50, 119n.63, 126n.87, 146n.77, 146n.79, 151n.91 Kaye, B. N.  121n.71 Kelly, J. N. D.  129n.12 Klauck, H.-J.  95n.71 Knuuttila, S.  38n.6 Kodrębski, J.  90n.48,49 Koester, H.  43n.19, 57n.78, 57n.79 Koskenniemi, E.  12n.47 Kümmel, W. G.  112, 113n.38, 114, 114n.40, 114n.42, 115n.51, 116n.54, 119n.63 Kuss, O.  56n.75, 57n.80, 59n.90 Kuula, K.  80n.15, 99, 99n.82, 113n.38, 119n.65, 121n.72

185

Laato, T.  115n.51, 116n.52 Lang, F.  27n.18,20 Lee, M. V.  3n.7, 10 Leppä, O.  6n.26 Levinson, J. R.  2n.5 Lichtenberger, H.  1n.1 Liddell, H. G.  85n.36, 111n.36, 117n.58, 129n.12, 132n.27 Liebs, D. 91n.50 Lindbeck, M.  34n.42 Lindemann, A.  27n.21 Lindgård, F.  108n.25, 109n.28, 119n.63 Long, A. A.  4, 4n.11, 4n.12, 4n.14, 5n.15, 5n.16, 5n.20, 6, 6n.22, 6n.23, 9n.33, 21n.2, 21n.5, 37n.2, 38n.7, 38n.9, 38n.11, 42n.17, 43n.24, 45n.32, 61, 67n.17, 68, 68n.19, 69n.25, 71n.33, 85n.34, 91n.54, 103n.7, 104n.9, 104n.11, 105n.12,13, 106n.16, 109, 109n.29, 31, 110, 110n.33, 121n.69, 122n.73, 130n.14, 130n.16, 130n.18, Long, G.  127n.2, 131n.21, 132n.27 Longenecker, R. N.  56n.74 Luhtala, A.  53n.64 Luther, M.  1n.3, 140, 144, 144n.69, 144n.70 Lutz, C. E.  54, 54n.66, 76, 76n.4, 79n.11, 128, 128n.7, 135, 135n.33, 136n.35 MacMullen, R.  3n.7, 88n.45 Malherbe, A. J.  3n.8, 3n.10, 9, 17n.65, 32n.36, 34n.39, 35n.48, 136n.37 Manning, C. E.  110n.32, 111n.34 Mansfeld, J.  17n.67 Marböck, J.  19n.73 Martens, J. W.  58n.82 Martin, D. B.  2, 30n.32, 34n.39, 34n.40, 35n.46, 35n.47, 60n.95, 61n.96 Martyn, J. L.  17n.65 Marxsen, W.  69n.23 Metzger, B. M.  17n.64 Michel, O.  57n.80, 68n.21, 97n.78, 123n.75 Milgrom, J.  70n.27 Milligan, G.  50n.44 Moo, D. J.  50n.51, 68n.22, 71n.32, 92n.59, 146n.76, 146n.79, 148n.84, 149n.86 Morris, L.  55n.71, 151n.91 Moulton, J. H.  50n.44, 137n.40

186

Index of Authors

Müller, K.  12n.44 Murray, J.  119n.65, 148n.84 Mussies, G.  11n.41 Nestle, G.  6n.24, 88n.43 Newman, R. J.  131n.19 Nguyen, V. H. T.  4n.11, 4n.12, 4n.13 Nissinen, M.  46n.33, 59n.89, 60n.92, 60n.93, 62n.97 Nussbaum, M. C.  41n.16, 76n.5, 77n.6 O’Brien, P. T.  1n.1 O’Donnell, J. J.  116n.55 Oldfather, W. A.  4n.11, 4n.13, 5, 6n.23, 21n.5, 22n.6, 23n.7, 29n.31, 38n.8, 39, 40n.13, 44n.28, 45n.29, 46n.34, 64n.2, 64n.8, 65n.10, 78n.7, 86n.39, 106, 106n.18, 106n.19, 109n.23, 126n.1, 131n.20, 131n.21, 131n.22, 131n.23, 132n.25, 132n.27, 133n29, 137n.40, 139n.46 Ortkemper, F.-J.  69n.23 Parker, R.  82n.28 Paulus, C.  88n.44 Petzke, G.  12n.47 Phillips, G. A.  16n.60 Plank, K. A.  28n.22 Pohlenz, M.  3n.8, 6n.24, 19n.73, 41n.15, 47, 48n.36, 49n.40, 52n.56, 53n.63, 57n.79, 57n.80, 69n.25, 73, 73n37, 87n.42, 88n.45, 90n.49, 91n.52, 99n.86, 107n.21, 152, 152n.96 Pöhlmann, W.  92n.59, 93n.61, 96n.76 Rabbow, P.  20n.1 Radt, S. L. von  4n.13, 22n.6, 64n.8 Räisänen, H.  1, 14, 14n.52, 14n.53, 14n.54, 14n.55, 15n.56, 18, 18n.68, 27n.18, 27n.19, 33n.38, 34n.43, 34n.44, 43n.22, 57n.77, 58n.84, 64n.5, 66n.12, 68n.22, 69n.23, 69n.24, 72n.34, 72n.35, 73n.41, 79, 79n.13, 80n.14, 81n.24, 96n.72, 114n.40, 116n.53, 116n.54, 121n.71, 124, 124n.82, 124n.83, 125, 125n.84, 126n.86, 126n.87, 140n.52, 141, 141n.58, 142, 142n.60, 142n.62, 142n.66, 143n.68, 145n.74 Reale, G.  64n.3 Reese, J. M.  19n.73

Rehkopf, F.  28n.25 Rengstorf, K. H.  25n.12 Rickert, G.  103n.8 Riekkinen, V.  92n.59, 93n.61, 95n.67, 97n.77, 99n.83 Rist, J. M.  29n.31, 54n.70, 109n.28 Robbins, V. K.  26n.16 Robinson, R.  118n.61, 119n.64 Saarinen, R.  1n.3 Sand, A.  119n.63 Sandbach, F. H.  41n.16, 52n.56, 70, 70n.29, 91n.52, 107n.21 Sandelin, K.-G.  32n.37 Sanders, E. P.  1, 1n.1, 7, 7n.30, 8, 8n.31, 12n.48, 57n.77, 113n.38, 142n.62, 142n.64, 142n.65, 154 Sandmel, S.  15n.57, 16, 16n.61, 18, 19n.73 Sandnes, K. O.  35n.47 Satlow, M. L.  80n.18, 83n.31, 83n.32 Schenkl, H.  4n.11,12, 5, 5n.17, 43n.20, 64n.8, 110n.33, 123n.79, 127n.1, 131n.20, 131n.22, 132n.25, 133n.28, 137n.40 Schlier, H.  126n.87, 146, 146n.76, 148n.84, 149n.86, 149n.88, 151n.91 Schmeller, T.  3n.10, 4n.13, 37n.1, 60n.95 Schmidt, H. W.  148n.84 Schmithals, W.  53n.62, 68n.22, 115n.50 Schmitz, O.  6n.24, 67n.15, 89n.46, 111n.34 Schneider, G.  49, 49n.41 Schnelle, U.  11n.41 Schrage, W.  15n.58, 27n.17, 28n.22, 28n.26, 29n.27, 31, 31n.34, 32, 32n.37, 34n.41, 34n.44, 35n.45, 35n.47, 82n.27 Schrenk, G.  117n.59 Schunack, G.  152n.96 Schweighäuser, I.  5n.19, 6, 106n.17, 132n.25 Schweingruber, F.  6n.25, 38n.8, 133n.29 Schwemer, A. M.  2n.5 Scott, R.  85n.36, 111n.36, 117n.58, 129n.12, 132n.27 Sedley, D. N.  61, 69n.25, 121n.69 Seeley, D.  132n.26, 136, 136n.36, 149n.87, 152, 152n.98, 152n.99



Index of Authors

Seelig, G.  19n.72 Seifrid, M. A.  1n.1 Sevenster, J. N.  9, 107n.21 Sharp, D. S.  9, 120n.66, 129n.12 Sicherl, M.  5n.19 Sidebottom, H.  86n.37 Sihvola, J.  38n.6 Smith, A.  95n.70 Smith, J. Z.  12n.45, 13n.50, 16, 16n.62, 17, 17n.64, 17n.66, 95n.70 Smyth, H. W.  23n.8, 43n.20, 50n.47, 108n.24, 117n.58, 149n.88 Sorabji, R.  41n.16, 47n.35 Souilhé, J.  5n.17, 5n.19, 22n.6 Spanje, T. E. van  14n.54 Spanneut, M.  4n.11, 5n.16, 9n.33 Stadter, P. A.  4n.13 Stanton, G. R.  45n.31 Starr, C. G.  25, 25n.14, 89, 89n.47 Stein, R. H.  95n.66 Stellwag, H. W. F.  4n.13, 6, 102n.2 Stephens, W. O.  5n.20, 67n.16, 68n.18 Stowers, S. K.  3n.10, 48, 48n.38, 103n.3, 103n.8, 115, 115n.48, 119n.62, 120, 120n.68, 121, 121n.71, 124n.80, 126n.91 Strack, H. L.  11n.41 Strecker, G.  11n.41 Strobel, A.  92n.59, 97n.78, 99n.83 Stuhlmacher, P.  92n.59, 93n.61, 96n.76 Sundkvist, M.  15n.56 Taubes, J.  98n.80 Theissen, G.  103n.8, 115, 115n.44, 115n.45, 115n.46, 115n.49, 116n.52, 116n.53, 116n.54, 116n.57 Thesleff, H.  58n.82 Thom, J. C.  105n.14 Thorsteinsson, R. M.  67n.14, 71n.30 Thurén, L.  114n.39, 114n.41, 115n.48, 118n.60

187

Tobin, T. H.  123n.77 Toynbee, A. J.  138n.43 Tyson, J. B.  7n.28 Umbach, H.  116n.53, 149n.88 Unnik, W. M. van  99n.83 Valantasis, R.  128n.6 Vegge, T.  19 Vögtle, A.  53n.59,60,61, 54, 54n.67,68 Vollenweider, S.  6n.24, 9, 9n.34, 26n.16, 28n.23, 29n.30, 31n.35, 70n.28, 81n.22, 87n.42, 89n.46, 103n.8, 120n.66, 123n.76, 126, 126n.87, 126n.90, 144, 144n.73 Vretska, K.  109n.31 Wattles, J.  67n.14 Weber, R.  2, 31n.35 Weiss, E.  88n.44 Weiss, J.  26n.16, 120n.67 Weissenberg, H. von  141n.53, 141n.54, 141n.56, 141n.57 Wendland, H. D.  57n.79 Westerholm, S.  1n1,3, 7, 7n.27,29, 8, 8n.31, 14n.54, 144n.70 Wettstein, J.  11, 11n.41 White, L. M.  11n.41 Wibbing, S.  53n.59 Wicke-Reuter, U.  19n.73 Wilckens, U.  58n.85, 97, 97n.77, 115n.50, 119n.63, 123n.75, 146n.80, 147n.81, 149n.86 Wirth, T.  4n.13 Wolff, C.  15n.58, 27n.20, 28n.22, 28n.26, 29n.27, 34n.44, 35n.47 Zahn, T.  69n.23, 120n.66 Zeller, D.  149n.88, 151n.90 Ziesler, J.  55n.71, 151n.91