Apostle of the Crucified Lord: A Theological Introduction to Paul and His Letters

By Michael J. Gorman

THIS COMPREHENSIVE, WIDELY USED TEXT by Michael Gorman presents a theologically focused, historically grounded interpretation of the apostle Paul and raises significant questions for engaging Paul today. After providing substantial background information on Paul's world, career, letters, gospel, spirituality, and theology, Gorman covers in full detail each of the thirteen Pauline epistles. Enhancing the text are questions for reflection and discussion at the end of each chapter as well as numerous photos, maps, and tables throughout.

The new introduction in this second edition helpfully situates the book within current approaches to Paul. Gorman also brings the conversation up-to-date with major recent developments in Pauline studies and devotes greater attention to themes of participation, transformation, resurrection, justice, and peace.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Eerdmans
• Release date: Dec 9, 2016
• ISBN: 9781467446532

Michael J. Gorman

 Michael J. Gorman holds the Raymond E. Brown Chair in Biblical Studies and Theology at St. Mary's Seminary & University in Baltimore, Maryland, where he has taught since 1991. A highly regarded New Testament scholar, he has also written Cruciformity, Inhabiting the Cruciform God, Becoming the Gospel, and Apostle of the Crucified Lord, among other significant works.

Book preview

INTRODUCTION

APPROACHING PAUL

Perspectives on the Apostle

Paul is the only man of Primitive-Christian times whom we really know . . .

Albert Schweitzer¹

Was Albert Schweitzer correct? On the one hand, he was right because we know more about Paul than about any other first-century Christian. On the other hand, how well do we really know him?

Paul was a complex figure. Accordingly, there have always been many ways of approaching him. In addition to the contemporary perspectives I will discuss briefly below, there is currently a renewed interest in ancient, medieval, and Reformation ways of reading Paul (see various bibliographies and the quotations at the end of chs. 7 to 19). The present book is part of that broad historical and contemporary landscape, though it has, of course, a distinctive point of view.

As you read this book, you will find both explicit and implicit references to the following perspectives on Paul:²

The ‘traditional perspective’ on Paul, sometimes called the ‘traditional Protestant’ or the ‘Lutheran’ perspective, is the default position of many people. This perspective generally finds Paul stressing the individual’s justification (right relationship with God) by faith rather than ‘works’; justification as a divine declaration of acquittal, as in a lawcourt; substitutionary atonement, or Jesus’ death in our place; and salvation history, or continuity between God’s revelation to Israel and God’s work in Christ. This approach to Paul is usually traced back to John Calvin and Martin Luther. Contemporary proponents include Douglas Moo, John Piper, Thomas Schreiner, and Stephen Westerholm.

The ‘new perspective’ (or ‘perspectives’) on Paul (often abbreviated NPP) emerged in the 1960s through the early 1980s, continuing today in somewhat nuanced ways due to critique from the traditional perspective and other quarters. Advocates have attempted to better understand first-century Judaism and Paul within it. Some NPP themes and voices include the following:

—  Paul did not have a modern introspective guilt complex (Krister Stendahl).

—  Judaism was not a religion of human effort, or ‘works righteousness,’ but of ‘covenantal nomism’: keeping the law as a response to God’s grace (E. P. Sanders).

—  The center of Paul’s theology was not justification but participation in Christ (Sanders).

—  Justification is primarily about the inclusion of Gentiles in the covenant community apart from keeping the Jewish law, especially the Jewish ‘boundary markers’ of circumcision, food (kosher), and calendar (e.g., Sabbath) (James D. G. Dunn, especially early on).

—  Justification is God’s gracious declaration of membership in the covenant, which will be followed at the judgment day by God’s declaration of final vindication, based on works (N. T. Wright). (See below for more about Wright.)

The ‘narrative-intertextual perspective’ emphasizes Paul as both a narrative theologian—that is, there are discernible stories within and behind his letters—and a scriptural theologian—that is, Paul is primarily an interpreter of Israel’s Scriptures (the Christian Old Testament). Its leading proponent is Richard Hays, who also argues that Paul’s gospel centers, not on human faith, but on the faith, or faithfulness, of Jesus. His approach to Paul is therefore closely associated with the ‘participationist perspective’ discussed below. Other proponents of the narrative-intertextual perspective include J. Ross Wagner and A. Katherine Grieb.

The ‘apocalyptic perspective’ stresses that God’s ‘apocalypse’ (revelation) in Christ is God’s unexpected incursion into human history to rescue people, and eventually the entire cosmos, from the cosmic powers of Sin and Death. Thus, traditional ‘lawcourt’ imagery for justification and salvation is insufficient, and the language of a continuous salvation history is in need of modification. The foundations of this approach were laid in the last century by Ernst Käsemann and then J. Christiaan Beker and especially J. Louis Martyn. They have been followed by others such as Alexandra Brown, Douglas Campbell, Martinus de Boer, Susan Eastman, and Beverly Gaventa.

The ‘anti-imperial perspective’ contends that Paul’s gospel was a critique of and an alternative to Rome—its emperor, gods, good news (‘gospel’), values, and so on. Proponents of this perspective contend that Paul consistently—or at least sometimes—undermines Roman claims and practices, presenting Jesus rather than Caesar as the true lord, and the Christ-community as an alternative to the oppressive empire. Proponents include Neil Elliott, Richard Horsley, Sylvia Keesmaat, and N. T. Wright.³

The influential work of N. T. Wright deserves separate mention: ‘the Wrightian perspective.’ In addition to being part of the new, narratival, and anti-imperial perspectives, Wright claims (1) most Second Temple Jews believed themselves still to be in exile; (2) Paul portrays Christ as the return of YHWH to Israel in order to deliver Israel from exile and make it a blessing to the nations, fulfilling the promise to Abraham; and (3) what happens in Christ is thus the ‘climax of the covenant.’ For Wright, Paul’s theology revolves around the reconfiguration of three focal points of Judaism: monotheism (one God), election (one people of God), and eschatology (one future for God’s people and world). He attempts to bring together covenantal—or salvation-historical—and apocalyptic perspectives.⁴

Advocates of the ‘Paul within Judaism perspective’ (sometimes called the radical, or radical new, perspective) find that traditional and even new perspectives are too influenced by their proponents’ own Christian beliefs, thus failing to understand Paul and his communities adequately. They contend that Paul remained firmly within Judaism as a Law-observant Jew, even as an apostle of the Messiah. One of the ongoing areas of exploration is how best to understand and identify non-Jews in Christ (‘Gentiles’) in relation to Paul’s new form of Judaism. Among the advocates of this approach to Paul are Pamela Eisenbaum, Neil Elliott, Paula Fredriksen, Mark Nanos, Matthew Thiessen, and Magnus Zetterholm.

On the other hand, without denying Paul’s Jewishness, the ‘social-scientific perspective’ places primary emphasis on understanding Paul in his broader Greco-Roman context. Scholars working within this perspective use social history and other social sciences to attempt to understand Paul and his communities as concrete first-century social realities. Among the practitioners of this perspective are John Barclay, David Horrell, Margaret MacDonald, Wayne Meeks, Peter Oakes, and Todd Still. Many of these scholars find great theological significance in their analytical work.

Proponents of the ‘feminist perspective’ (or ‘perspectives,’ for, again, there is no uniformity) on Paul bring their questions and concerns to the study of Paul and the Pauline letters. They look both critically and constructively at views of women expressed in the letters in their ancient contexts, and in the interpretation of those views from antiquity to today. Such interpreters include Lynn Cohick, Kathy Ehrensperger, Beverly Gaventa, Frances Taylor Gench, Amy-Jill Levine, and Sandra Polaski.

The ‘participationist perspective’ on Paul (which we might call the PPP) somewhat resembles the work of Albert Schweitzer and Wilhelm Wrede from about a century ago, and builds on the more recent work of E. P. Sanders and Richard Hays. It stresses transformative participation in the death and resurrection of Christ as the central dimension of Pauline theology. Its proponents resonate with early Christian interpreters of Paul and of salvation who made statements like the following: He [Christ/God] became what we are so that we could become what he is. Advocates include Ben Blackwell, Douglas Campbell, Morna Hooker, Udo Schnelle, and the present writer, who stresses the missional aspect of participation.

Clearly there is overlap among these various perspectives, and some scholars, such as Beverly Gaventa and N. T. Wright, work seamlessly from within more than one perspective. Moreover, not everyone fits neatly into one of these ‘schools.’ For example, one major scholar, John Barclay, finds that a proper understanding of ‘grace’ in Paul requires criticism of many perspectives. Another scholar, Michael Bird, is critical of what he calls ‘radical’ apocalyptic interpretations of Paul, but he also thinks the new perspective needs some chastening. Yet another scholar, Mark Seifrid, has been a critic of the new perspective and a defender of the more traditional view, yet he has adopted a rather participationist perspective. Paul is indeed a complex figure!

Although the author of this book writes from within the ‘participationist perspective,’ he shares some of the viewpoints that characterize other basic perspectives. There is, in fact, a bit of almost every other perspective named above in the following pages, especially narrative-intertextual, apocalyptic, anti-imperial, and Wrightian.

We shall now attempt, then, to get to know the person who has generated all of this discussion and more: Paul.

FOR FURTHER READING AND STUDY

This bibliography focuses on works that treat various contemporary perspectives, present a variety of topics, or both. There are also a few entries for the history of interpretation and one or two for each perspective noted above. Additional specific works by various interpreters are identified within these books. Most students will want to come back to this list after, rather than before, reading the rest of the present book.

GENERAL

Badiou, Alain. Saint Paul: The Foundation of Universalism. Translated by Ray Brassier. Stanford: Stanford University Press, 2003. A French atheist-philosopher’s interpretation of Paul as a purveyor of universal ‘salvation’ relevant to the contemporary world.

Bird, Michael F., ed. Four Views on the Apostle Paul. Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2012. Essays by and interaction among Thomas Schreiner, Luke Johnson, Douglas Campbell, and Mark Nanos.

Campbell, Douglas A. The Lost Gospel of Paul. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, forthcoming. Readable digest of Campbell’s approach.

Dunn, James D. G., ed. The Cambridge Companion to St. Paul. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2003. Short essays by a group of top-notch Pauline scholars.

Gorman, Michael J. Reading Paul. Eugene, OR: Cascade, 2008. Participationist perspective in brief, with evidence of other influences.

Grieb, A. Katherine. The Story of Romans: A Narrative Defense of God’s Righteousness. Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 2002. A narrative and intertextual approach.

Hawthorne, Gerald F., Ralph P. Martin, and Daniel G. Reid, eds. Dictionary of Paul and His Letters. Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity, 1993. Authoritative articles, many of significant length and substance.

Horrell, David. An Introduction to the Study of Paul. 3rd ed. New York: Bloomsbury T&T Clark, 2015. Overview of Paul, major interpretive issues, and various interpreters.

Johnson, Andy. Navigating Justification: Conversing with Paul. Catalyst Nov. 1, 2010. http://www.catalystresources.org/navigating-justification-conversing-with-paul/. Summary and analysis of the traditional view and those of N. T. Wright, Michael Gorman, and Douglas Campbell.

Levine, Amy-Jill, ed., with Marianne Blickenstaff. A Feminist Companion to Paul. New York: T&T Clark, 2004. Essays from several perspectives.

Martyn, J. Louis. Theological Issues in the Letters of Paul. Edinburgh: T&T Clark; Nashville: Abingdon, 1997. Significant, influential essays on the apocalyptic character of Paul’s gospel.

Meeks, Wayne A., and John T. Fitzgerald, eds. The Writings of St. Paul. 2nd ed. Norton Critical Editions. New York: Norton, 2007. Interpretations of Paul over the centuries.

Polaski, Sandra Hack. A Feminist Introduction to Paul. St. Louis: Chalice, 2005. Careful work, generally appreciative of Paul.

Sanders, E. P. Paul: A Very Short Introduction. New York: Oxford University Press, 1991. By one of the architects of the NPP.

———. Paul: The Apostle’s Life, Letters, and Thought. Minneapolis: Fortress, 2015. The mature work of this NPP scholar.

Stendahl, Krister. Paul Among Jews and Gentiles. Philadelphia: Fortress, 1976. Essays that helped launch the NPP.

Thompson, Michael B. The New Perspective on Paul. Cambridge: Grove Books, 2002. Brief, excellent overview.

Westerholm, Stephen, ed. The Blackwell Companion to Paul. Oxford/Malden, MA: Blackwell, 2011. Essays by prominent scholars on Paul’s communities, letters, and theology, plus major interpreters throughout history.

Wright, N. T. Paul in Current Anglophone Scholarship. ExpTim 123 (2012): 367–81. Brief overview.

Yinger, Kent L. The New Perspective on Paul: An Introduction. Eugene, OR: Cascade, 2011. Readable introduction to the proponents, critics, and issues.

Zetterholm, Magnus. Approaches to Paul: A Student’s Guide to Recent Scholarship. Minneapolis: Fortress, 2009. Analysis of a variety of critical perspectives, including some not discussed here.

TECHNICAL

Anderson, Garwood P. Paul’s New Perspective: A Soteriological Itinerary. Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity, 2016. An insightful interpretation of Paul as an attempt to get past the impasse between the traditional and new perspectives, with special attention to the language of participation and to developments in Paul’s thinking throughout the thirteen letters.

Barclay, John M. G. Paul and the Gift. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2015. Major work on grace, Second Temple Judaism, and Paul, challenging both old and new perspectives and offering significant theological insight.

Bird, Michael F. An Anomalous Jew: Paul among Jews, Greeks, and Romans. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2016. Collected essays.

Campbell, Douglas A. The Deliverance of God: An Apocalyptic Rereading of Justification in Paul. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2009. Radical apocalyptic perspective, highly critical of the traditional perspective.

Carson, Donald, Peter T. O’Brien, and Mark A. Seifrid, eds. The Paradoxes of Paul. Vol. 2 of Justification and Variegated Nomism. WUNT 2.181. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck; Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2004. Critical reactions to the new perspective.

Dunn, James D. G. The New Perspective on Paul. Rev. ed. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2008. Collected essays by a leading NPP voice.

Ehrensperger, Kathy. That We May Be Mutually Encouraged: Feminism and the New Perspective in Pauline Studies. New York: Bloomsbury T&T Clark, 2004. Brings feminist, NPP, and post-Holocaust approaches to Paul into conversation.

Given, Mark D., ed. Paul Unbound: Other Perspectives on the Apostle. Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 2010. Essays on Paul and empire, economics, Judaism, women, etc.

Gorman, Michael J. Inhabiting the Cruciform God: Kenosis, Justification, and Theosis in Paul’s Narrative Soteriology. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2009. The participationist perspective in depth.

Harding, Mark, and Alanna Nobbs, eds. All Things to All Cultures: Paul among Jews, Greeks, and Romans. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2013. Essays on key Pauline topics with discussions of various viewpoints plus hundreds of references to scholarly literature.

Harink, Douglas, ed. Paul, Philosophy, and the Theopolitical Vision: Critical Engagements with Agamben, Badiou, Žižek, and Others. Eugene, OR: Cascade, 2010. Helpful essays on the ‘Paul and political philosophy’ perspective.

Hays, Richard B. The Faith of Jesus Christ: The Narrative Substructure of Gal 3:1–4:11. 2nd ed. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2002 (orig. 1983). Hays’s classic study.

Heilig, Christoph, J. Thomas Hewitt, and Michael F. Bird, eds. God and the Faithfulness of Paul. WUNT 2.413. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2016. Essays critically engaging N. T. Wright’s Paul and the Faithfulness of God.

Hooker, Morna D. From Adam to Christ: Essays on Paul. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1990. Significant essays from the participationist perspective.

Horsley, Richard, ed. Paul and Empire: Religion and Power in Roman Imperial Society. Harrisburg, PA: Trinity, 1997. Essays arguing for anti-Roman sentiment in various letters.

Nanos, Mark D., and Magnus Zetterholm, eds. Paul within Judaism: Restoring the First-Century Context to the Apostle. Minneapolis: Fortress, 2015. Essays from various Jewish and Christian scholars.

Oakes, Peter. Reading Romans in Pompeii: Paul’s Letter at Ground Level. Minneapolis: Fortress, 2009. Paul in light of the social sciences.

Schnelle, Udo. Apostle Paul: His Life and Theology. Translated by M. Eugene Boring. Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2005. Comprehensive account stressing Paul’s theology of participation.

Stanley, Christopher, ed. The Colonized Apostle: Paul in Postcolonial Eyes. Paul in Critical Contexts. Minneapolis: Fortress, 2011. Essays on Paul and the interpretation of Paul in ancient and modern colonial and imperial contexts.

Still, Todd D., and David G. Horrell, eds. After the First Urban Christians: The Social-Scientific Study of Pauline Christianity Twenty-Five Years Later. New York: Bloomsbury T&T Clark, 2009. Essays honoring the work of Wayne Meeks, contining his social-scientific approach.

Thate, Michael J., Kevin J. Vanhoozer, and Constantine R. Campbell, eds. In Christ in Paul: Explorations in Paul’s Theology of Union and Participation. WUNT 2.384. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2014. In-depth essays.

Westerholm, Stephen. Perspectives Old and New on Paul: The Lutheran Paul and His Critics. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2004. Defense of the traditional perspective.

Wright, N. T. Paul and the Faithfulness of God. Vol. 4 of Christian Origins and the Question of God. Minneapolis: Fortress, 2013. Wright’s magnum opus.

———. Paul and His Recent Interpreters. Minneapolis: Fortress, 2015. Analysis of recent approaches, with emphasis on new, apocalyptic, and social-scientific perspectives, as well as contemporary appropriation.

OTHER RESOURCES

1. For earlier interpreters of Paul, see especially the following collections, as well as specific commentaries from patristic, medieval, and reformation periods (available in various translations and formats):

George, Timothy, gen. ed. Reformation Commentary on Scripture: New Testament. Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity, 2011–. Volumes on Galatians and Ephesians and on Philippians and Colossians available as of 2015.

Oden, Thomas C., gen. ed. Ancient Christian Commentary on Scripture: New Testament. Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity, 1998–. Volumes on Romans; 1–2 Corinthians; Galatians, Ephesians, and Philippians; Colossians, 1–2 Thessalonians, 1–2 Timothy, Titus, and Philemon.

2. Also helpful for the study of Paul are the following reference works and web sites:

Ware, James P., ed. Synopsis of the Pauline Letters in Greek and English. Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2010. Presents parallel passages, in both English (NRSV) and Greek, from the letters and Acts on 177 different topics.

Wilson, Walter T. Pauline Parallels: A Comprehensive Guide. Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 2009. Lists Pauline texts letter by letter, with parallel texts from within Paul, elsewhere in the Bible, and outside the Bible.

http://www.ntgateway.com/paul-the-apostle/

Paul the Apostle, part of New Testament Gateway, maintained by Professor Mark Goodacre, with many links to good sites, texts, videos, etc.

http://www.thepaulpage.com/ Bibliographies, articles, and other resources, focusing on the NPP and its critics, Paul and empire, and Paul within Judaism, maintained by a team of scholars.

www.textweek.com/pauline/paul.htm

Paul and the Pauline Epistles, part of The Text This Week, with links to articles and much more.

https://www2.luthersem.edu/ckoester/Paul/Early/Main.htm

Journeys of Paul, maintained by Professor Craig Koester, with photographs and text.

3. Many scholarly journals have articles on Paul and his letters; one is specifically dedicated to the topic: the Journal for the Study of Paul and His Letters (JSPL).

4. For those who might travel to the cities of Paul or those who are simply interested in the archaeological sites, the following resources are especially useful:

Fant, Clyde E., and Mitchell G. Reddish. A Guide to Biblical Sites in Greece and Turkey. New York: Oxford University Press, 2003. Photos, site maps, and detailed descriptions of all the relevant archaeological ruins.

Walker, Peter. In the Steps of Saint Paul: An Illustrated Guide to Paul’s Journeys. Oxford: Lion House, 2011. Lavishly illustrated, user-friendly narrative and guide.

Wilson, Mark. Biblical Turkey: A Guide to the Jewish and Christian Sites of Asia Minor. 3rd ed. Istanbul: Ege Yayinlari, 2014. Color photos, relevant ancient texts, and descriptions of sites.

Alexander the Great (location: Istanbul Archaeological Museums)

1. Albert Schweitzer, The Mysticism of Paul the Apostle, trans. William Montgomery (London: Black, 1931), 332.

2. This is not meant to be an exhaustive list of possible approaches to Paul; the focus is on those in the English-speaking world with interests that are primarily theological. Furthermore, there is variety within each of the perspectives.

3. A surprising related development is what we might call the ‘Paul and political philosophy perspective,’ a reading of Paul by European political philosophers, most of whom are atheists, and in some cases Marxists: Giorgio Agamben, Alain Badiou, Jacob Taubes, and Slavoj Žižek. They tend to see in Paul a universalizing, ‘messianic’ (but not theological) voice for democracy and the humane treatment of others in a global situation of extreme depersonalization, inequality, and danger of various kinds.

4. In Paul and the Faithfulness of God, vol. 4 of Christian Origins and the Question of God (Minneapolis: Fortress, 2013), Wright actually calls the NPP label, especially as the supposed antithesis of the traditional perspective, unhelpful.

CHAPTER 1

PAUL’S WORLD(S)

The Greco-Roman Context of His Mission

I extended the frontiers of all the provinces of the Roman people, which had as neighbors races not obedient to our empire. I restored peace . . .

C. Julius Caesar Octavianus (Caesar Augustus)¹

Appreciating great historical figures requires an understanding of their world: Martin Luther at the dawn of sixteenth-century Europe, Abraham Lincoln in nineteenth-century America, Mother Teresa in the twentieth century, or the apostle Paul in the first. Paul was a man of several worlds—the culture of the hellenized Mediterranean basin, the political reality of the Roman Empire, and the orb of Second Temple Judaism. But of course, these worlds were not really distinct; they constituted one first-century reality. Roman citizens (and nearly everyone else) wrote in Greek more often than not; Palestinian Jews were hellenized; and both Greek and Roman gods and goddesses took on the traits of local deities.

A full study of this world would be a book in itself. The purpose of this chapter is simply to introduce some dimensions of Paul’s world(s) that will be helpful, and in some cases necessary, for understanding him and his letters. We will briefly consider Paul’s Mediterranean culture, the Roman Empire, contemporary Judaism, some pagan religions and philosophies, and the Roman city.

PAUL’S MEDITERRANEAN CULTURE

In recent decades, due to the influence of the social sciences on biblical studies, it has become popular to speak of ‘the culture of the Mediterranean basin’ or to use similar language that generalizes about the culture of this vast region. Even today we speak of ‘Middle Eastern’ or ‘Mediterranean’ values or culture or cuisine. But some caution is in order; Roman values and customs in Italy and their Jewish counterparts in Palestine were hardly identical. The Mediterranean basin contained a mixture of peoples and cultures, and generalizations may fail to recognize the differences represented by these various groups. Nevertheless, it is helpful—with appropriate caution—to speak of some general characteristics of the Mediterranean culture of Paul’s day.

HELLENIZATION

First to be noted is the region’s hellenization. The triumph of Alexander the Great (d. 323 BC) meant the spread of Greek culture throughout the Mediterranean basin and beyond. Greek language, ideas, education, philosophy, religion, politics, and values went wherever Alexander had gone. A somewhat simplified form of classical Greek, koinē (common) Greek, became the norm for conducting commercial and business affairs, as well as for most other forms of communication; it is the language of the New Testament.

The Jewish communities that had dispersed throughout the region, known as the Diaspora, were not immune to this hellenization. They often thought in Greek ways, and they used a Greek translation of the Hebrew Scriptures (the Septuagint, abbreviated LXX).² Even Palestine and Palestinian Judaism could not escape Hellenistic influence. To be sure, Greek culture did not normally replace local culture but rather merged with it, as it did in different ways in the Jewish communities of Jerusalem, on the one hand, and in the Jewish communities of Alexandria in Egypt, for example, on the other. The reality of hellenization did not make everyone a Greek philosopher, but it did make everyone a debtor to, and participant in, the heritage of Greece that permeated and helped shape the region.

SENSE OF GROUP IDENTITY

A second important aspect of ancient Mediterranean culture was its sense of group identity. Whereas contemporary Westerners tend to define themselves and their identity first of all as individuals, ancient Mediterranean cultures tended to define the self primarily in terms of group membership. This fundamental cultural difference is sometimes referred to as the distinction between a ‘monadic’ and a ‘dyadic’ culture. In a monadic culture, the self can be defined alone (mono-), with emphasis on the person as an individual. In a dyadic culture, however, the self can never be defined alone but always and only in reference to another (dy-, ‘two’), and particularly to the group—the family, the city, etc. In a dyadic culture, primary value is placed on inheriting and living by the norms and customs of the group, not on the formulation of independent judgment and values. To live is to live as part of a body and to take one’s place within that body. To deviate will likely spell disaster.

The importance of group identity did not, however, mean that the individual as individual was insignificant. Rather, it meant that the creation of individual identity was impossible apart from the dynamics of solidarity with others in one’s group(s). That is, there was no egō (‘I’) without hēmeis (‘we’).

HONOR AND SHAME

This sense of group identity leads to another generalization about ancient Mediterranean culture: it was a culture of honor and shame. Simply defined, honor and shame refer to the ongoing attribution and withdrawal of esteem by peers: one’s family, socioeconomic group, city, etc. In Roman society this respect was based primarily on such things as wealth, education, rhetorical skill, family pedigree, and political connections. These were the culture’s primary ‘status indicators.’ In a dyadic culture, ‘self-esteem’ is largely an oxymoron; the only esteem one has is bestowed not by the self but by the group. To ‘lose face’ by failing to please the group, by failing to embody the group’s values, constitutes both the loss of honor and the loss of self. In this environment, peer pressure is not something to avoid, as most Westerners would assert, but is in fact an appropriate and welcome cultural dynamic.

HIERARCHY: POWER AND POVERTY

The culture of Paul’s day, despite—and in fact because of—the emphasis on group solidarity, was also very hierarchical. Greco-Roman culture exhibited a hierarchy that can be usefully, though not perfectly, compared to the Eiffel Tower: a small pinnacle (the ‘elite,’ honestiores in Latin, with the power, wealth, property, and status—the ‘1 percent’), reinforced by a larger but still small support sector (the ‘retainers’), all standing on the shoulders of a massive foundation (the ‘nonelite,’ or humiliores). In this hierarchical arrangement, power was concentrated at the top among the elite, but the masses were of course concentrated near the bottom. At the pinnacle was the emperor. Beneath him were the senators; the equestrians, a class of high-ranking military and political figures; and the decurions—aristocrats with land and other forms of wealth but only local political power. Supporting this governing class was a network of people sociologists call retainers: political and religious officials (priests, government bureaucrats, etc.) who keep the machinery of power running, attend to the needs of the elite, and derive a measure of power and status from their connection to the elite. Recent studies suggest that the elite and their retainers probably comprised about 3 percent of the population.

Further down the socio-economic ‘tower’ were those of some means but little or no political power, including the more successful merchants and artisans. Though they were not like a contemporary Western middle class, they are sometimes called a ‘middling’ group between the elite and the nonelite, consisting of perhaps 5 to 15 percent of the populace. Such people would have had a moderate surplus of financial and other resources.

What about the remainder of the population—the 85 percent or so? Still further toward the bottom were the slaves who were ‘middle managers’ for the elite (see discussion below); then the working lower class of free persons and freedpersons, including many artisans, merchants, and the like; lower-level slaves; and the free, working poor, such as day laborers and many farmers. At the very bottom of our socioeconomic ‘Eiffel Tower,’ as in any society, were the unclean and the ‘expendables’: those without any wealth, power, or status, such as widows, orphans, prisoners, and those with disabilities, who were often beggars. Thus, the issue for the vast majority of people was subsistence or even survival.

Although scholars debate the statistics, economically speaking the ‘85 percent’ (more or less) included those living just above, at, and below the subsistence level. It is quite likely that about one-fourth of the population in Paul’s day lived below the subsistence level: the widows and beggars and their children, and even some unskilled laborers with little or no regular income. Perhaps a similar number—certain merchants, artisans, and farmers—lived just above subsistence with a modicum of stability. But even more merchants, artisans, farmers, and laborers hovered around the subsistence level and were seriously threatened whenever there was a food shortage or other crisis. Thus, while there are many ways to define the word ‘poor,’ by almost any definition more than half the population of the empire, and perhaps much more than that, was poor: barely able to survive, with no power or other means to change their situation.

The Jewish communities of the ancient world both participated in the Roman vertical hierarchical culture and constituted a culture of their own. Outside Palestine, in the cities of the Diaspora, Jews sometimes (though not always) lived near one another, often practicing their trades as members of the artisan sector of their city. They interacted with Gentiles, of course, including the elite, and some may have actually been part of the elite. The hard evidence is spotty. In Palestine there was a hierarchy within Jewish society itself: a few Jews participated in the ruling class; others were retainers who supported (and benefited from) either Jewish religious or Roman political powers, or both; still others were artisans and merchants; and many were poor: day laborers, peasants, the unclean, or expendables. Related to this hierarchy was what we might also call a ‘horizontal’ or ‘concentric’ hierarchy. Power and purity were in the hands of those closest to the center, whether that center was conceived of as the temple or the Law. Those males who were part of the ritual or legal system constituted the inner circle, followed by other Jewish males with some religious standing, related Jewish women and children, the poor (‘the people of the land’), and finally Gentiles. This social structure was symbolized in part by the ‘concentric’ construction of the temple, with its central Holy of Holies and its succession of courts, the last being the Court of the Gentiles.

PATRIARCHY

An inherent aspect of the hierarchy of Mediterranean culture was its patriarchy. The male head of household governed his own little universe, with his wife, children, and slaves as personal property. This gave free men power and privilege in their own homes, even if nowhere else. For example, men could—and did—‘expose’ deformed or unwanted infants they had fathered (i.e., leave them on the garbage heap outside town, either to die or to be ‘adopted’ as slaves or prostitutes). Men ruled the empires, provinces, and cities (though wives of rulers could exercise considerable power), and in general controlled most temples and cults. Freeborn males wielded auctoritas (from which we get the word ‘authority’): power over the powerless and prestige (honor) among peers.

Women were primarily assigned to the home as wives, mothers, and household managers, but this did not mean they had no other role in society. Elite women had more freedom than others, and during the Roman period, they might receive a good education. Some women were prominent in business, and some cults gave women considerable leadership and participatory roles. There were, of course, goddesses as role models for the importance of the female gender in the religious sphere. In some temples, priestesses attended to the needs of the gods and their devotees, and women often figured prominently in certain religious processions and other events. Some cults, especially the mystery religions (see below), attracted women exclusively or primarily. In the Diaspora, Jewish women were likely to be active in their communities and sometimes even in their synagogues, as benefactors and leaders. Nonetheless, throughout the Mediterranean world, much of one’s access to education, public life, and religious leadership was determined by gender, and males were clearly the privileged half of the human race.

SLAVERY

Another unavoidable aspect of hierarchical Greco-Roman culture was the institution of slavery. In urban areas a significant percentage of all inhabitants were slaves, though firm numbers are unavailable, and estimates of scholars vary. Even smaller households often had a few slaves, while the larger households of the very wealthy had many. To be a slave was to belong, not to oneself, but to another (Aristotle, Politics 1.1254a.14), and to live to do the other’s bidding—without the right to refuse (Seneca, On Benefits [De beneficiis] 3.19). It was to possess few if any legal rights, and to be in a state of dishonor. Slaves were used and abused; they could be forced to work long hours and could be punished severely. Disobedient, unruly, runaway, or troublesome slaves could be tortured or even killed, though Roman law in the imperial period required a just cause for the death of a slave. Many slaves, both male and female, were sexually exploited by their masters and lived in fear of them. Not all slaves did difficult manual labor without respite or suffered mistreatment, however, as some (perhaps many) masters were generally humane. There was financial incentive for masters to ensure the long-term survival of their property.

Unlike the American system of slavery, slavery in the Greco-Roman world was not based on race. Slaves could be made, through conquest or piracy; found, as in the case of children exposed or otherwise abandoned; or even, though much more rarely, self-made, through selling oneself into slavery. Yet there were similarities to slavery in the United States. By Paul’s time most slaves were born into slavery; a slave’s children also became the slave owner’s property. As property, slaves were bought and sold privately or through ‘retailers.’ They were judged and priced according to their actual or potential usefulness. Domestic slaves contributed to the needs and comforts of the master and his family. It was also possible for a slave to acquire skills in a trade and even to rise to some prominence as, for example, the manager of his master’s business. Furthermore, in the first century a small number of slaves throughout the empire constituted the ‘imperial household,’ functioning as the empire’s civil service. But it would be erroneous to think that slavery was generally a means of self-improvement or advancement.

Manumission (release from slavery), the goal of nearly every slave, required the generosity of the master and his willingness to lose the monetary value of his property. But among the elite it could also be a status symbol to release slaves and thus demonstrate to peers the virtues of clemency and generosity. There is some evidence that during the Roman period slaves could expect liberation at the age of thirty or so (when life expectancy was not a lot longer), but how often this actually occurred, and why (perhaps to relieve the master of the care of elderly and infirm slaves), is a matter of debate. Manumission could occur while the master was alive, either at his discretion or through the payment of a specified sum by the slave or by another person for the slave (redemption). Sometimes a god, through the priests, would effect a sacral manumission. Occasionally a master would liberate slave children by legally adopting them as his own. Manumission could also occur at the owner’s death according to the provisions of his will.

Freedpersons usually became the clients of their former owners, who, as patrons, often helped their new clients financially (see discussion of patronage below). Freedpersons could now travel at will but could not hold certain civic and religious offices. They might find life more difficult and fail, at least economically, in their new status, though some—such as the first-century Stoic teacher Epictetus—succeeded not only economically but also in other important ways. Some freed slaves even became Roman citizens.

Which takes us, naturally, to Rome and its empire.

PAUL’S ROMAN EMPIRE

Paul lived at a time that had one overriding and unifying reality—the Roman Empire, heir to Alexander’s conquered world. A complete discussion of the Roman Empire is, of course, impossible in this book, though certain aspects of Paul’s social, political, and religious world will be mentioned briefly as appropriate in the discussion of specific Pauline texts. Here we highlight just a few aspects of the imperial reality that affected Paul’s mission and message: the pax Romana, community in the empire, mobility in the empire, and imperial unity through cult and theology. The last of these is given special emphasis, for it refers to the religious dimension of empire, since Paul’s ‘pagan competition’ (considered later in the chapter) included the cult of the emperor.

PAX ROMANA

No empire in human history is as celebrated as the Roman Empire. This empire is synonymous with the ‘Roman peace’—the pax Romana. The empire ended an era of civil strife in Rome and unified a huge area of land containing diverse peoples. The systems that built and maintained that peace have been the envy of many for two millennia: government, military, architecture, roads, and so on.

Augustus, the first Roman emperor (27 BC – AD 14) (location: Istanbul Archaeology Museums)

The empire’s birth can be dated to 31 or, more properly, 27 BC, though its birth was preceded by years of preparation and followed by centuries of development. In 31 BC, Octavian, the adopted son of Julius Caesar, defeated Mark Antony at the Battle of Actium, off the western coast of Greece. Octavian subsequently (27 BC) received from the Roman Senate the name Augustus (‘revered one,’ ‘honored by the gods’)—and all succeeding emperors kept the name.³ He was welcomed as Rome’s savior and the incarnation of divine good news for the whole world. Under him, major expansion of Rome’s power took place in all directions, as Augustus himself boasted in his Res gestae divi Augusti (Things Accomplished by the Divine Augustus). Roman law, values, gods, roads, and coins spread everywhere, and the emperors that followed Augustus continued the work of Rome’s first imperial savior.

The extent of the Roman Empire at the time Paul wrote his letters (c. 50)

But there was a dark side to this ‘peace’ that cannot be forgotten. An empire was born, but a republic simultaneously died. The Romans established and maintained their empire through conquest, subjugation, and intimidation. It was, in other words, peace through war, security via domination. The Romans invaded and enslaved; they moved the conquered in and out; they formed new colonies and refounded old cities as their own colonies. They imposed taxes and tributes to maintain the empire, especially the military and the elite, and its pax among the subjugated peoples. And they had a deterrent to make sure those who might threaten the peace understood the consequences: crucifixion.

The Torture of Marsyas: Marble sculpture of the flaying of the satyr Marsyas for insulting Apollo, evoking also the humiliation of crucifixion (location: Louvre, Paris)

The Romans did not invent crucifixion, but they did perfect it. With trees, single beams, and variously shaped crosses, they would kill any noncitizen who put the pax in jeopardy. Their own writers knew it was the cruelest of deaths: Cicero, for example, called crucifixion a most cruel and ignominious punishment and the most miserable and most painful torture, appropriate to slaves alone (Against Verres 2.5.64, 66).⁴ The Jewish writer Josephus, who knew of mass crucifixions of his countrymen, referred to crucifixion as the most wretched of deaths (Jewish War 7.203).⁵

Yet in spite of this—or was it because of this?—a Roman crowd would gather to watch insurrectionists, slaves, and others die in naked shame. When we crucify criminals the most frequented roads are chosen, where the greatest number of people can look and be seized by this fear. For every punishment has less to do with the offense than with the example (Quintilian, Lesser Declamation 274).⁶ Thus, in response to the famous revolt by the rebellious slave-gladiator Spartacus in 71 BC, the Romans crucified 6,000 slaves on the Appian Way between Capua and Rome. There could be nothing more irrational, more shameful, or more un-Roman than to honor—not to mention deify!—a man crucified by the imperial authorities.

COMMUNITY: EMPIRE, CITY, FAMILY

The image of a crowd of Romans watching government officials put a group of rebellious slaves or political revolutionaries to death may strike us as odd and even sadistic, but in the first century, it was something of a family get-together. For the empire envisioned itself as one large family under the headship of its father, the emperor himself (pater patriae, ‘father of the country’).

The family, or household (Gk. oikos; Lat. domus), was the fundamental unit of Roman society. That family would include not only the male head of household with his wife and children, but perhaps also extended family and, among those of even moderate means, household slaves.

Many families in the first century lived in cities, some of which, such as Rome and Ephesus, were quite large in area and population. Some of these cities, with special obligations and duties to the emperor and the empire, were colonies of Rome. (See further discussion of the Roman city below.) Within these cities lived various kinds of people, often within the same household: citizens and noncitizens; slaves, free, and freedpersons (former slaves); poor and wealthy. Everyone was highly conscious of these socioeconomic differences.

The engine that ran the empire, the family, and the city was love of honor (Lat. philotimia), which took on a godlike role, and its pursuit a form of almost religious devotion. Cicero proclaimed that [n]ature has made us . . . enthusiastic seekers after honor, and once we have caught . . . some glimpse of its radiance, there is nothing we are not prepared to bear and go through in order to secure it (Tusculan Disputations 2.24.58).⁷ Similar remarks can be found in such well-known writers as the Roman Stoic philosopher Seneca (Paul’s contemporary) and, centuries earlier, the Greek philosopher Aristotle. The pursuit of honor—public esteem, especially from one’s peers—created a fiercely competitive society, especially among those of means. They strove to outdo one another in accumulating honor for the emperor and for Rome, for their particular city and family, and of course for themselves. A building project financed by a wealthy man, or even an association of, say, merchants, could accomplish all three. It beautified and served the city while it could be dedicated to the emperor and prominently inscribed with the name(s) of the patron(s).

The elite of a city associated primarily with people of similar status. The men would often spend their time in civic-minded activities (all for honor, and never working with their hands), congregate in the baths, and entertain one another at dinner parties. If the nonelite (artisans, family slaves, etc.) happened to be in attendance at such a dinner, they would be served food of lesser quality in separate rooms.

As noted above, there was really no middle class in Roman society, at least nothing like the large, relatively well-to-do and independent American middle class. The ‘working class’ were people of little status even though they constituted a large percentage of the population. Nonelite but free individuals had their own means of community, called collegia, or (loosely) ‘clubs’—social organizations with religious overtones and a variety of functions. One kind of collegium was the trade guild, an association of workers (largely male), such as tentmakers or shipbuilders, who met for business and social purposes in a variety of venues. Such a group or its meeting was sometimes termed a koinon (as in koinōnia, meaning ‘community’ or ‘solidarity’) or a synagōgē, and the leader might be called the archisynagōgos. Another type was strictly religious, dedicated to the practice of one of the cults. Yet another kind, especially for the poor, was the burial society, a fellowship designed to help defray the high cost of burials. These collegia were sanctioned by Rome, though problematic groups could be banned.

The structure of relationships in Roman society was not, however, a completely horizontal affair. In addition to interaction between masters and slaves, and between the wealthy and the tradespeople who supplied their goods, there was a system of patron-client relations. Seneca called patronage the chief bond of human society (On Benefits, 1.4.2).⁸ Starting from the emperor, who was seen as patron of the entire empire, and moving down into the elite strata, people of means and status acted for the benefit, financial and other, of those of lesser means and status. In return, the beneficiaries—the clients—gave the patron their loyalty and honor. Clients might include a man’s former slaves, several working poor people, perhaps an artist or teacher dependent on the patron for support, or a group of people, such as a collegium. One important aspect of this system of patron-client reciprocity was the language used to express it: ‘grace’ (charis) could refer to the attitude of the provider, the gift or beneficent act, and the response of the indebted recipient. Charis was normally extended to worthy clients, and thus certainly not to enemies, and concrete manifestations of gratitude were expected of all recipients of charis.

MOBILITY: TRAVEL IN THE EMPIRE

Despite the community and stability found in one’s household and city—not to mention the availability of most goods and services—some people either desired or were required to travel. Whether for business, pleasure, government or military service, or religious purposes, moving around the empire was quite common.

Rome is justifiably famous for its extensive system of superior roads, a political and military necessity for a smooth-running empire; some of them can still be seen and used. The roads connected cities, making possible the transport of people, goods, mail, ideas, and religions. Road travel for common folk was mostly on foot. Those with means might ride on a donkey, in a vehicle drawn by animals, or—for the most powerful—on a mat carried by personal slaves. Some land travel could take place year-round, though winter travel in the higher elevations would naturally have to be curtailed at certain times. (Both Turkey and Greece are more mountainous than one might think.) Highway travel could still be risky business, however, due to robbers and natural dangers. Inns were notorious for their ‘services’: providing bad food, unsafe and unhealthy conditions, shady owners, and prostitutes.

In addition to the highways, the Mediterranean and its adjoining bodies of water provided various routes for travel. Movement was again restricted during the winter months, however. Sea voyages were even more dangerous than inland trips; one storm could be fatal, and despite imperial efforts, pirates sailed the seas hoping to find goods—including human merchandise—to steal and sell.

UNITY: IMPERIAL POWER, CULT, AND THEOLOGY

Travelers throughout the empire found a diversity not only of beliefs and rituals but also of landscapes—geographical and otherwise. Yet unifying and dominating the religious, political, civic, recreational, and architectural landscape of the Mediterranean basin in the first century was the cult of the emperor. Devotion to the emperor—including not only the reigning emperor but also his family and his predecessors, especially Julius and Augustus—was a multifaceted affair that permeated the culture. It was a form of religious and nationalistic, or theopolitical, allegiance, both to deified humans (the emperors) and to a cultural and political entity (the Roman Empire). In many respects, therefore, it was one of the most fundamental cohesive elements in the empire, helping to hold its diverse constituencies together.⁹

Ruins of what was likely a temple of the imperial cult in Corinth, dedicated to Octavia, sister of Augustus

The cult of the emperor was in some ways a continuation of the Hellenistic ruler cult, which was known in much of the territory that became the Roman Empire. But for Rome it was a highly significant change in attitude and behavior from the period of the Roman Republic, and it met with some resistance in Rome itself. Perhaps the change was inevitable, however; after all, as ancients and moderns alike have often assumed, no one but (a) god could subdue and then control a huge portion of the known world. From the time of Julius on, Caesar was not only the top political but also the top religious figure, the chief priest (pontifex maximus, the ‘greatest bridge’ [between humans and the gods]).¹⁰ Julius was treated in many ways like a god even before his posthumous elevation to deity, at which point his adopted son Gaius Octavius (Augustus) and successor became, naturally, the son of a god (Lat. divi filius, Gk. huios [tou] theou).¹¹ And even before Augustus would be formally deified after his death in AD 14, he initiated programs dedicated to himself, Julius, and Rome that would become the imperial cult.

Forms of this devotion to and worship of the emperor developed in various ways from place to place.¹² Though neither centralized nor homogeneous, the imperial cult spread like wildfire throughout the empire during the first half of the first century, especially in the cities, and most especially in the colonies (extensions of Rome) in Greece and Asia Minor, such as Pisidian Antioch, Corinth, and Philippi. (Scholarship has demonstrated the falsity of the common notion that the imperial cult did not flourish or impact Christians until the time of Domitian at the end of the first century.) In the provinces, Roman citizens were expected to participate in the cult of Rome and the divine Julius, while noncitizens were to be devotees of Rome and Augustus.¹³

By the time of Paul’s ministry as recorded in his letters and Acts, temples for the imperial cult had been erected, or were being erected, in nearly all the major cities of the empire; these temples were often the largest and most central sanctuaries in a city. The huge, elevated imperial temple at Pisidian Antioch in central Asia Minor was visible for miles. Even more modest temples for the cult, such as the one at Corinth dedicated to Octavia (the sister of Augustus and wife of Mark Antony, who divorced her for Cleopatra), were impressive edifices. In addition to temples, cities erected other buildings and monuments dedicated to the emperors, as well as statues of them. Sometimes imperial statues were placed inside temples devoted to other gods. Coins, which previously bore the images of gods, now also bore the image of the emperor. Cities celebrated the reigning emperor’s birthday, accession, conquests, and so on, resulting in a busy calendar of ceremonies, festivals, parades, and contests (athletic, gladiatorial, and other types) in his honor. Cities—and within cities, leading citizens—vied to sponsor the most impressive events and erect the most monumental structures. The ideology, or theology, of the imperial cult was thus narrated and reinforced in various ways, not least visually. The emperor was everywhere, all the time—sponsored by his friends.

The imperial cult, then, was in part a form of prestigious civic and patriotic service, a kind of ‘God and country’ phenomenon, or civil religion. Public oaths of allegiance were part of this theopolitical activity. But the cult also encompassed more explicit forms of religious devotion to the emperor and to Rome. These included ceremonies honoring the ‘genius’ (‘immortal spirit,’ but also a kind of guardian deity) of the emperor, sacrifices offered by the imperial priests, the burning of incense, special meals, and so on. The imperial cult was a multifaceted ritual of power—human and divine.

All these cultic activities were, in fact, both religious and political, and devotion to the emperor and devotion to the empire were inseparable. Behind and within the activities was a theology, a set of convictions about Rome as the gods’ choice to rule the world, an election allegedly proven and displayed in Rome’s victories throughout the world, and in the ‘peace’ those victories achieved. The emperor was the divinely appointed and empowered patron, protector, father, and epitome of Rome and its power. Augustus was the bringer, and his successors the guarantors, of peace and security—in a word, of salvation, of the eschatological golden age. Those who submitted to Rome would share in the imperial, and hence divine, salvation on earth: peace, security, fertility, justice, and so on.

This was Rome’s ‘evangel,’ or good news (euangelion/euangelia), as an inscription from 9 BC found at several places (including Priene, not far from Ephesus in the province of Asia), asserts about the savior (sōtēr) Augustus, whom providence sent to end war and establish peace: "[S]ince Caesar when revealed [epiphanein] surpassed the hopes of all who had anticipated the good news [euangelia], not only going beyond the benefits of those who had preceded him, but rather leaving no hope of surpassing him for those who will come, because of him the birthday of God began good news [euangelia]for the world."¹⁴ This inscription echoes the sentiment expressed by Horace, in a poem (Carmen saeculare) written in 17 BC for games in honor of Augustus: Now good faith, and peace, and honor, and modesty ancient, and virtue long-abandoned, do dare to return, and blessed Plenty appears, her horn quite full.¹⁵ Similarly, a shepherd’s speech in Virgil’s Eclogues (1.6–8) contains this claim about Augustus: [I]t is a god who wrought for us this peace [or, tranquility"; Lat. ostia]—for a god he shall ever be to me; often shall a tender lamb from our folds stain his altar."¹⁶

As magnificent benefactors, Augustus and his imperial successors were given, or took for themselves, titles such as Savior, Son of God, God, and Lord, and people acknowledged them as such. The emperor was ‘equal to God’ (cf. Phil 2:6, where this is predicated of Christ). Although most emperors did not require the actual worship of themselves as a god (notable exceptions being Caligula [Gaius], who ruled from 37 to 41, and possibly Domitian, who ruled from 81 to 96), the power and might of the imperial office made each of them recipients of godlike honors simply by being emperor of Rome. The great first- and second-century Stoic philosopher Epictetus said that we perform obeisance before the emperors as before gods, because we consider that which has the power to confer the greatest advantage to be divine (Discourses 4.1.60). Divinity was about power.

Jews, and thus the earliest ‘Christians,’ to the extent they were seen as part of the Jewish community,¹⁷ enjoyed exemption from certain aspects of Roman life, including the imperial cult. Needless to say, however, any movement or message that appeared to displace the emperor from his throne would be understood as counterimperial and anti-Roman (cf. Acts 17:1–9). Rome’s gospel and Paul’s would be at odds, sometimes explicitly, sometimes implicitly, for Paul would become the ambassador of a different Lord with a radically different sort of power and ‘empire.’¹⁸

PAUL’S JUDAISM(S)

The Judaism of Paul’s day is known as early or Second Temple Judaism.¹⁹ It is often said, however, that what existed was, in fact, a plurality of Judaisms, not one monolithic entity. There is much truth in this view, for there were various groups, and Second Temple Jews were, in a sense, arguing about what it means to be God’s chosen people in their particular time and place.

Yet Jews everywhere and of all stripes were still united in a common heritage and several basic convictions, entities, and practices: monotheism, election and covenant, land, Moses and the Law (Torah), temple and synagogue (synagōgē, headed by an archisynagōgos), circumcision, and hope for the kingdom of God. To be Jewish was to confess and worship the one God YHWH, who had graciously chosen Israel to be the distinctive people of God. This God had entered into covenant with Israel, revealing the Law to Moses and thereby calling Israel into a covenantal relationship characterized by love, obedience, and faithfulness toward YHWH, and love, justice, and purity toward others. This covenant was expressed in certain practices of ‘piety’ and ‘virtue,’ as Philo summarized it (i.e., love of God and neighbor), in good times and bad, whether at home or dispersed, and lived out in hope of a time when Israel’s sufferings and subjugation would cease forever. The prominent scholar N. T. Wright organizes his interpretation of Paul around such overarching dimensions of Judaism: one God, one people of God, and one future for God’s people and world; that is, monotheism, election, and eschatology.

To understand Paul we must keep in mind not only this general Jewish worldview, but also at least four dimensions of Jewish unity in diversity: subjugation to Rome; some common boundary markers; a theological development that affected many Jews, including Paul (apocalypticism); and some of the different Jewish groups (sometimes called ‘schools’ or ‘parties’).

SUBJUGATION TO ROME

As noted above, Jews had some privileges under Roman rule, but they were nonetheless under foreign domination. Though Jews had learned to deal with such a situation, it had not seemed appropriate to certain Jews about two centuries before Paul when, under Seleucid rule, the Maccabeans had revolted (167–164 BC). Nor did it seem right to many Jews under Roman occupation; these feelings led to sporadic acts of defiance against Rome and eventually to a full-scale attempt in AD 66–74 to cast the Romans out of Palestine. The unsuccessful revolt brought on the Romans’ destruction of the Jerusalem temple in 70 and the famous mass-suicide incident at Masada (climaxing ca. 74).

It is within this political context that we must understand Jewish hopes for the kingdom (reign, or even ‘empire’) of God and for a Messiah, or ‘anointed one’: Greek christos; hence ‘Christ.’ Most Jews probably hoped for a savior figure, a Messiah, but they did not agree on his precise nature or role: would he be a prophet, a priest, or a king? Or would the deliverer be a transcendent, heavenly figure? A royal, Davidic Messiah was the most common hope, but it was possible to hope for the restoration of Israel and the coming of God’s reign without reference to such an idealized warrior king. Some Jews who did look for such a Messiah thought they could hasten his coming by revolutionary activity; others thought they had to tolerate the Romans and wait for God to act. There was, in other words, a variety of hopes for deliverance and salvation in Second Temple Judaism, but they were almost always theopolitical in character: longing for God’s concrete action in this world. No clear evidence exists, however, for any Second Temple Jewish hope for a suffering Messiah, much less a Messiah who would be crucified and then resurrected.

BOUNDARY MARKERS: RITUAL AND RELIGIO-ETHICAL

To be Jewish was, and is, to be different. This is the root meaning of the biblical language of holiness—to be set apart for God’s purposes. To be holy is to be distinctive; the term ‘holy,’ when applied to people, is shorthand for ‘peculiar by virtue of being obedient to God’s commandments.’ Holiness is the way of life that marks out the covenant people, the expression of the fact that this people is called, or elected, by God (e.g., Lev 11:44–45; 19:2; 20:7, 26; Deut 7:6; 14:2; Num 15:40). The holy ones constitute a counterculture or an alter-culture, a different way of being in the world.

In the latter part of the twentieth century, under the influence of E. P. Sanders and others, it became commonplace to refer to the basic pattern of the religion of Second Temple Judaism as ‘covenantal nomism.’ Covenantal nomism means the keeping of the Law (Gk. nomos) not as a way of getting in but of staying in the covenant: following the Law is what those chosen by a gracious God do after they are in covenant relationship. It also became a scholarly convention, under the influence of such scholars as James D. G. Dunn, to refer to certain distinctive Jewish practices—especially circumcision, calendar observance (i.e., observing the Sabbath and festivals), and food laws—as ‘boundary markers.’ One of the significant results of these directions in Pauline studies has been the rejection of older notions of Judaism as a religion of ‘works righteousness’ in which Jews supposedly earned their salvation by doing good works. Rather, said the new perspective on Paul (NPP), Jews expressed their gracious election by obeying the Law. Another impact on Pauline studies was the notion that Paul’s real criticism of Judaism and Judaizers was not Judaism’s self-made righteousness, but what some called its ‘cultural imperialism,’ or ethnic pride.

This new perspective was an important development in the study of early Judaism and of Paul. Despite its wealth of important insights, it was not without its own problems. One problem is that it sometimes overlooked the diversity within Judaism and underestimated the role of religious pride in certain expressions of Jewish identity. Another, serious issue is the accuracy of a charge like ‘cultural

Reviews for Apostle of the Crucified Lord

[madcow299 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

This book examines the works attributed to the Apostle Paul. It discusses the context and content of each letter and its recipients and the reason Paul wrote the letter. It also discusses the issue of disputed and undisputed epistles, and what difference that makes to today's reader and how they view the historical Paul and his theology and social values. It also discusses the theology and worldview that Paul brings to each community and the radical nature of the gospel and the way it started to change the Greco-Roman lifestyles for the earliest Christians. This is a fantastic and insightful book for anyone interested in the Epistles and the man who was the epitome of an Apostle of the Cross.