Gaining Virtue, Gaining Christ: Moral Development in the Letters of Paul

GAINING VIRTUE, GAINING CHRIST: MORAL DEVELOPMENT IN THE LETTERS OF PAUL

Laura B. Dingeldein

B.A., University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill, 2006 M.A., Duke University, 2008

DISSERTATION

Submitted in partial fulfillment of the requirements for the Degree of Doctor of Philosophy in the Department of Religious Studies at Brown University

PROVIDENCE, RHODE ISLAND

MAY 2014

This dissertation by Laura B. Dingeldein is accepted in its present form by the Department of Religious Studies as satisfying the dissertation requirement for the degree of Doctor of Philosophy.

Recommended to the Graduate School

Date______Dr. Stanley K. Stowers, Advisor

Date______Dr. Ross S. Kraemer, Reader

Date______Dr. Susan A. Harvey, Reader

Approved by the Graduate School

Date______Dean Peter M. Weber, Dean of the Graduate School

iii CURRICULUM VITAE

Laura Dingeldein was born in Chapel Hill, North Carolina, on March 19, 1984.

Though as a toddler she briefly lived with her family in New Orleans, Louisiana (where she perfected her southern accent), she spent most of her childhood in the small town of Burlington, North Carolina. Laura conducted her undergraduate studies at the

University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill, graduating in 2006 with a double major in

Religious Studies and Journalism and Mass Communication. She received her Master’s degree in Religion in the area of New Testament from nearby Duke University in 2008.

From 2008 to 2014, Laura was a doctoral student in the Department of Religious

Studies at Brown University. Her main research interests were the historical contextualization of early Christianity and the intersection between ancient

Mediterranean philosophy and religion. Laura worked extensively with the Sheridan

Center for Teaching and Learning, serving one year as the Head Teaching Consultant for the Humanities and Social Sciences. Her publications include “‘ὅτι πνευματικῶς

ἀνακρίνεται’: Examining Translations of 1 Corinthians 2:14,” an article in Novum

Testamentum 55.1 (Jan. 2013); and entries on “Aquila and Prisca,” “Codex Alexandrinus,” and “Junia” in the forthcoming Routledge Dictionary of Ancient Mediterranean Religions. She received a Ph.D. in Religious Studies from Brown in May 2014.

iv ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

Throughout the writing of this dissertation, and during the past several years of my doctoral education, I have been examined, corrected, encouraged, and restored by many wise mentors, friends, and family. This project would not have been possible without these people, and the extent of their intellectual and emotional support of me, as well as my gratitude for it, is far greater than what can be acknowledged here.

I am immensely grateful to Stanley Stowers, who has inspired, exhorted, and guided me throughout my graduate career with his thoughtful brilliance and understated humor. Stan has been an exemplary dissertation advisor, and I owe many of the insights found in this project to him. I am indebted to Ross Kraemer as well: Ross’ indefatigable curiosity and precision have greatly stimulated my own thinking, and she has helped me to navigate the muddy waters of academia and life on more than one occasion. I also owe great thanks to Susan Harvey, who has, with careful consideration and great understanding, always encouraged me to focus on the larger picture – in my research, my teaching, and my personal pursuits. I also extend my gratitude to Nicola

Denzey Lewis, who has provided me with indispensible advice and counseling with regard to my teaching and other professional matters. Kathy Takayama, Laura Hess,

Stratis Papaioannou, and Mark Goodacre have also been wonderful mentors during my

v graduate career, and I thank the staff of the Department of Religious Studies for patiently listening to my rants more times than they probably desired.

Several other friends and members of my academic family have been particularly instrumental in helping me not only to progress through the various stages of my doctoral studies, but also to successfully handle the twists and turns characteristic of an academic’s life in her twenties. The graduate students in the

Department of Religious Studies, as well as Jane Anderson and Claudia Moser, deserve special mention. These people have sustained me through New England winters, sailing catastrophes, job interviews, and dissertation-related malaise, and I am most thankful for their humor, their generosity, and their excellent culinary skills.

I will end by thanking those people who have been there for me since the beginning. I thank my sister, Andrea, who has became an unexpected source of stability and comfort for me as our relationship has evolved and matured over the last several years. I am eternally grateful to my parents, Steve and Mary, for their unfailing love and devotion to me. They have always insisted that I pursue my dreams, they have always been committed to helping me achieve my goals, and they have always been there for me when I have stumbled. I could not ask for better parents, and none of this would have been possible without them.

vi TABLE OF CONTENTS

Abbreviations ix

Introduction Why Paul and Moral Progress? 1 The Scope and Structure of this Dissertation 2 Definitions and Categories 20

Chapter 1 The Puzzle of Moral Progress in Paul’s Letters 40 An Egalitarian Paul 44 Allergies to Virtue Acquisition 50 Hellenistic Jewish Myopia 63

Chapter 2 Theories of Virtue Cultivation in Ancient Mediterranean Philosophy 74 The Basics: Shared Assumptions about Moral Progress 76 Stoic Moral Progress: Reasoned Virtue 82 Epicurean Moral Progress: Freedom from Pain 104 Middle Platonic Moral Progress: Becoming Like God 121

Chapter 3 Philosophers’ Programs of Moral Progress in Early Imperial Rome 138 Creative Genius, not Crafty Jackdaw: Philo on Moral Progress 141 His Own Favorite Stoic: Seneca on Moral Progress 166 A Practical Platonist: Plutarch on Moral Progress 179

Chapter 4 Paul’s Program of Moral Development for Christ Followers 196 The Basic Moral Condition of Non-Jews 198 Moral Abounding in 1 Thessalonians 201 Pursuit of the Prize in Philippians 218 Encouragement toward Virtue in Galatians 234 Paul’s Vision of Non-Jews Moral Development: A Summary 254 Paul’s Alignment with Middle Platonism 263

vii Chapter 5 Moral Differentiation amongst Christ Followers in 1 Cor 2:6-3:4 273 The Standard Interpretation 275 Rebuttal of the Standard Interpretation 279 A New Reading of 1 Cor 2:6-3:4 306

Conclusion Paul’s Philosophy: Gaining Virtue, Gaining Christ 321

Bibliography 330

viii

ABBREVIATIONS

Texts and Translations

Abr. De Abrahamo (On Abraham) Acad. Academica (Academics) Adv. Col. Adversus Colotem (Reply to Colotes) Anim. Proc. De anime procreatione in Timaeo Aud. De recta ratione audiendi (On Listening to Lectures) Ben. De beneficiis (On Benefits) Caus. cont. De causis continentibus (On Sustaining Causes) Civ. De civitate dei contra paganos (The City of God Against the Pagans) Cohib. ira De cohibenda ira (On Controlling Anger) Col. Adversus Colotem (Against Colotes) Comm. not. De communibus notitiis contra stoicos (On Common Conceptions, Against the Stoics) Comm. Rom. Commentarii in Romanos (Commentary on Romans) Conf. De confusione linguarum (On the Confusion of Tongues) Congr. De congress eruditionis gratia (On Mating with the Preliminary Studies) Contempl. De vita contemplativa (On the Contemplative Life) Contr. Jul. Contra Julianum (Against Julian) Crat. Cratylus Decal. De decalogo (On the Decalogue) Det. Quod deterius potiori insidiari soleat (That the Worse Is Wont to Attack the Better) Deus. Quod Deus sit immutabilis (On the Unchangeableness of God) Dogm. Plat. De dogma Platonis (On Platonic Dogma) Ebr. De ebrietate (On Drunkenness) Ecl. Eclogae (Eclogues) E Delph. De E apud Delphos (On the E at Delphi) Elect. De electionibus et fugis (On Choices and Avoidances) Ep. Epistulae Morales (Moral Epistles) Ep. Men. Epistula ad Menoeceum (Epistle to Menoeceus)

ix Epit. Epitome doctrinae platonicae (Handbook of Platonism) Fat. De fato (On fate) Fin. De finibus bonorum et malorum (On Moral Ends) Fug. De fuga et invention (On Flight and Finding) Gig. De gigantibus (On the Giants) Garr. De garrulitate (On Talkativeness) Her. Quis rerum divinarum heres sit (Who is the Heir of Divine Things?) Hipp. Maj. Hippias Major (Greater Hippias) Inst. Orat. Institutio Oratoria (Institutes of Oratory) Intr. Introductio sive medicus (Medical Introduction) Jos. De Josepho (On Joseph) Ira De ira (On Anger) Lat. viv. De latenter vivendo (Is “Live Unknown” a Wise Precept?) Leg. Leges (Laws) Leg. all. Legum allegoriae (Allegorical Interpretation) Legat. Legatio ad Gaium (Embassy to Gaius) Lib. De libertate dicendi (On Frank Criticism) Lib. ed. De Liberis Educandis (On the Education of Children) LW Luther’s Works Marc. Ad Marciam de consolatione (Consolation to Marcia) Migr. De migratione Abrahami (On the Migration of Abraham) Mixt. De mixtione (On Mixture) Mos. De vita Moses (On the Life of Moses) Mul. virt. Mulierum virtutes (Virtues of Women) Mut. De mutatione nominum (On the Change of Names) ND De natura deorum (On the Nature of the Gods) Non posse Non posse suaviter vivi secundum Epicurum (That Epicurus actually makes a pleasant life impossible) NQ Naturales quaestiones (Natural Questions) Off. De officiis (On duties) Opif. De opificio mundi (On the Creation) Orat. De Oratore (On the Orator) Phaed. Phaedo Phaedr. Phaedrus Plac. De placitis Hippocratis et Platonis (On Hippocrates’ and Plato’s Doctrines)

x Post. De posteritate Caini (On the Posterity of Cain and His Exile) Prep. evang. Preparatio Evangelica (Preparation for the Gospel) Princ. iner. Ad principem ineruditum (To an Uneducated Ruler) Prob. Quod omnis probus liber sit (Every Good Man Is Free) Prol. Prologus (Prologue) Prot. Protagoras QE Quaestiones in Exodum (Questions on Exodus) QG Quaestiones in Genesim (Questions on Genesis) QP Quaestiones Platonicae (Platonic Questions) Resp. Respublica (Republic) RN De rerum natura (On the Nature of Things) Sacr. De sacrificiis Abelis et Caini (On the Sacrifices of Abel and Cain) Sera num. De sera numinis vindicta (On the Delays of Divine Vengeance) Somn. De somniis (On Dreams) Spec. De specialibus legibus (On the Special Laws) Stoic. rep. De Stoicorum repugnantiis (On Stoic Self-Contradictions) SV Sententiae Vaticanae (Vatican Sayings) Symp. Symposium Theaet. Theaetetus Tim. Timaeus Tranq. an. De tranquilitate animi (On the Tranquility of Mind) Tusc. Tusculanae disputations (Tusculan disputations) Vir. ill. De viris illustribus (On Illustrious Men) Virt. De virtutibus (On the Virtues) Virt. mor. De virtute morali (On Moral Virtue) Virt. prof. Quomodo quis suos in virtute sentiat profectus (How one may become aware of his progress in virtue) Vit. beat. De vita beata (On the Happy Life)

Journals and Series

AB Anchor Bible AMP Ancient and Medieval Philosophy (Series) ANRW Aufstieg und Niedergang der römischen Welt ANTC Abingdon New Testament Commentaries AP Ancient Philosophy

xi AYB The Anchor Yale Bible (Series) BCAW Blackwell Companions to the Ancient World BCCT Brill’s Companions to the Christian Tradition BCP Blackwell Companions to Philosophy BHT Beiträge zur historischen Theologie BI Biblical Interpretation BICS Bulletin of the Institute of Classical Studies BICSSup Bulletin of the Institute of Classical Studies, Supplements BJS Brown Judaic Studies BTB Biblical Theology Bulletin: A Journal of Bible and Theology BzA Beiträge zur Altertumskunde CAT Companions to Ancient Thought CBQ The Catholic Biblical Quarterly CBR Currents in Biblical Research CDCT The Cambridge Dictionary of Christian Theology CE Cronache Ercolanesi CJ The Classical Journal CJA Christianity and Judaism in Antiquity (Series) CP Classical Philology CQ The Classical Quarterly CSAP Continuum Studies in Ancient Philosophy CSCP Cornell Studies in Classical Philology CSCT Columbia Studies in the Classical Tradition ECL Early Christianity and its Literature FRLANT Forschungen zur Religion und Literatur des Alten und Neuen Testaments HDR Harvard Dissertations in Religion HTR Harvard Theological Review HZAG Historia: Zeitschrit für Alte Geschichte IJCT International Journal of the Classical Tradition JAJ Journal of Ancient Judaism JBL Journal of Biblical Literature JHS Journal of Hellenic Studies JMEMS Journal of Medieval and Early Modern Studies JSJ Journal for the Study of Judaism in the Persian, Hellenistic and Roman Periods JSNT Journal for the Study of the New Testament

xii JTS Journal of Theological Studies LCBI Literary Currents in Biblical Interpretation LCC The Library of Christian Classics LCL Loeb Classical Library LTP Laval Théologique Et Philosophique MPT Medieval Philosophy and Theology MTS Marburger Theologische Studien MTSR Method and Theory in the Study of Religion NIBC New International Biblical Commentary NICNT New International Commentary on the New Testament NIGTC The New International Greek Testament Commentary NovT Novum Testamentum NovTSup Novum Testamentum, Supplements ORP Oxford Readings in Philosophy SBL Society of Biblical Literature SBLDS Society of Biblical Literature Dissertation Series SBLSBS Society of Biblical Literature Sources for Biblical Study SBLTT Society of Biblical Literature Texts and Translations SO Symbolae Osloenses: Norwegian Journal of Greek and Latin Studies SP Sacra Pagina Series StPhAnn The Studia Philonica Annual WUNT Wissenschafliche Untersuchungen zum Neuen Testament ZGB Zurcher Grundrisse zur Bibel

xiii

“A good plan, as it seems to me, Fundanus, is that which painters follow: they scrutinize their productions from time to time before they finish them. They do this because, by withdrawing their gaze and by inspecting their work often, they are able to form a fresh judgment, and one which is more likely to seize upon any slight discrepancy, such as the familiarity of uninterrupted contemplation will conceal.” - Plutarch (Cohib. ira 452F)

“I beat importunately upon Paul at that place, most ardently desiring to know what Paul wanted.” - Martin Luther (LW 34.337)

xiv

INTRODUCTION

Why Paul and Moral Progress?

“Good things are difficult.”1 Though this proverb originated in ancient Greece, people of the classical era were not alone in emphasizing the struggles that generally accompany humans’ moral development. The process of becoming a better person has been commonly understood as both an arduous and gradual one, though theories regarding the exact stages, mechanisms, and goals of moral progress vary widely across millennia and the globe. Philosophers and religious specialists in particular have been concerned with promoting theories about the nature of moral development, and these theories have been met with varying amounts of interest from the historical contemporaries of those who constructed them. Among the philosophical and religious figures concerned with moral progress stands the apostle Paul, one of the founders and architects of earliest Christianity. Having lived in the lands surrounding the

Mediterranean Sea during the first century CE, Paul articulates in a series of letters preserved in the New Testament a program of moral development for non-Jews who

1 Χαλεπὰ τὰ καλά (Plato, Resp. 435C, 497D; ibid., Hipp. Maj. 304E; ibid., Crat. 384B).

1 follow Christ and desire to inherit immortality from the God of Israel. It is the goal of this dissertation to reconstruct and historically contextualize Paul’s program of moral progress for non-Jews by means of a detailed, critical comparison with the systems of moral progress espoused by ancient Mediterranean philosophers. Ultimately, by historically situating Paul in this way, I aim to elucidate some of the ways in which

Paul’s vision of non-Jewish Christ followers’ moral development would have been intelligible and recognizable to Paul’s first century audiences.2

The Scope and Structure of this Dissertation

My interest in reconstructing and historically contextualizing Paul’s program of moral progress through comparison with ancient Mediterranean philosophy arises out of dissatisfaction with what I will refer to as the “standard interpretation” of 1 Cor 2:6-

2 In reconstructing Paul’s vision of non-Jewish Christ followers’ moral development, I do not purport to reconstruct Christ followers’ moral progress from an anthropological, sociological or psychological perspective. This dissertation is not about the moral development that first century Christ followers actually underwent, nor is it about the levels of moral differentiation that the Christ followers considered themselves to occupy. Though I consider it highly likely that moral hierarchy itself was a perpetual facet of the social organizations of the assemblies that Paul founded (at least in those instances in which group-making occurred among Christ followers), and though I believe it highly probable that historical reality did occasionally reflect the ideals expounded by Paul, I simply do not believe it possible to claim with any certainty that the program of moral development advocated by Paul was consistently and perfectly practiced by the individuals to whom his writings were addressed.

2 3:4 in current New Testament scholarship.3 In this passage, found at the start of Paul’s first extant letter to the Corinthians, Paul upbraids Christ followers in Corinth for their factious behavior and pretensions to divine wisdom. Attempting to correct such improper and vicious conduct, Paul categorizes humans into three groups according to their differing moral and intellectual abilities. Paul writes of fleshly humans who are infantile, ignorant, and overcome by vice (σάρκινοι, σαρκικοί, νήπιοι); psychic humans who consider the gifts of God’s πνεῦμα foolish (ψυχικοί); and pneumatic humans who are mature and wise due to their possession of God’s πνεῦμα and Christ’s mind

(πνευματικοί, τέλειοι ). 4 The hierarchical nature of this tripartite anthropological

3 As I later note in Chapter Five, the standard interpretation presented in this dissertation is my own construct, a result of streamlining and identifying similarities between the numerous and varied scholarly readings of this passage over the past fifty years. No two modern scholars agree on every single interpretive issue that arises from an analysis of 1 Cor 2:6-3:4, nor does any one scholar whom I label as a supporter of the standard interpretation adhere to every single claim that I cite as constituting the standard interpretation. Those whom I label as supporters of the standard interpretation do, however, agree with one central idea: Paul is adapting, reworking, ridiculing, or redefining Corinthian terminology and Corinthian claims to moral and pneumatic superiority in 1 Cor 2:6-3:4.

4 I have chosen to leave the Greek term πνεῦμα untranslated throughout this dissertation, given that there exists no satisfactory English translation. The word “spirit” is typically used by English speakers to translate the term πνεῦμα, but, as we shall see, our modern notion of “spirit” does not adequately reflect what the ancients, Paul included, meant by πνεῦμα. I have chosen to translate ψυχικὸς ἄνθρωπος as “psychic human” (or “psychic man”) rather than “natural man” for a couple of reasons. Not only does the standard rendering “natural man” obscure Paul’s emphasis on the ψυχή (or soul) as the defining characteristic of the ψυχικὸς ἄνθρωπος, but it also carries with it modern connotations of a natural-supernatural dualism to which the ancients, including Paul, do not subscribe. It is also worth noting that my translation

3 classification system is widely recognized by New Testament scholars: most interpreters agree that fleshly humans, psychic humans, and pneumatic humans respectively occupy successive levels of intellectual and moral achievement.5 Yet the vast majority of current New Testament scholars also claim, in what I isolate as the defining characteristic of the standard interpretation, that this hierarchical moral differentiation is not original to Paul’s own thought. Scholars who promote this standard interpretation of 1 Cor 2:6-3:4 adamantly maintain that Paul does not support the hierarchy implied in the tripartite anthropological classification presented in 1 Cor.

Rather, such scholars claim that the hierarchical πνευματικός-ψυχικός language was first used by the Corinthian Christ followers themselves in order to bolster their own pretensions to wisdom and virtue. Paul then appropriates the Corinthians’ own terminology in 1 Cor 2:6-3:4 in order to ridicule or rework the Corinthians’ vicious claims to moral elitism. According to the standard interpretation, then, Paul himself

“psychic human” is not meant to refer to those humans who claim to possess a sixth sense (such as the infomercial personality Miss Cleo), but rather to refer to humans whose dispositions are driven by the wants and desires of their souls.

5 As will become apparent in the ensuing discussion, the vast majority of ancient Mediterranean philosophers (pre-Hellenistic, Hellenistic, and Roman) consider wisdom and virtue so intimately intertwined that to write of “intellectual and moral achievement” or “intellectual and moral progress” is a bit redundant. Thus, though I may at times write of wisdom, intellect, and reason as distinct from virtue and morality for the purposes of analysis, I will typically use the modifier “moral” to encompass both the intellectual and moral dimensions of moral development.

4 does not conceive of any sort of moral hierarchy amongst Christ followers, but merely appropriates or ironically employs the terminology of the Corinthians in order to deride the Corinthians for their elitist behavior.6

The good ship upon which the standard interpretation sails has numerous cracks in its hull, and it is one goal of this dissertation to inundate and sink the standard interpretation of 1 Cor 2:6-3:4 by exposing its exegetical and methodological weaknesses. Ultimately, the fundamental problem with the standard interpretation is its portrayal of Paul as a man whose thought would have been unintelligible and unrecognizable to inhabitants of the ancient Mediterranean: no person of antiquity

6 Prominent supporters of the standard interpretation include: Robert Jewett, Paul’s Anthropological Terms: A Study of their Use in Conflict Settings (Leiden: E. J. Brill, 1971), 36-37; Birger Albert Pearson, The Pneumatikos-Psychikos Terminology in 1 Corinthians: A Study in the Theology of the Corinthian Opponents of Paul and its Relation to Gnosticism (SBLDS 12; Missoula, Mont.: SBL, 1973); Martin Winter, Pneumatiker und Psychiker in Korinth: zum religionsgeschichtlichen Hintergrund von 1. Kor 2, 6-3,4 (MTS 12; Marburg: Elwert Verlag, 1975), 230; John Painter, “Paul and the πνευματικοί at Corinth,” in Paul and Paulinism: Essays in honour of C. K. Barrett (ed. M. D. Hooker and S. G. Wilson; London: SPCK, 1982), 245; Gordon D. Fee, The First Epistle to the Corinthians (NICNT; Grand Rapids, Mich.: Williams B. Eerdmans Publishing Co., 1987), 98-100; Gregory E. Sterling, “‘Wisdom Among the Perfect’: Creation Traditions in Alexandrian Judaism and Corinthian Christianity,” NovT 37 (1995): 369; Richard A. Horsley, 1 Corinthians (ANTC; Nashville: Abingdon Press, 1998), 57; Raymond F. Collins, First Corinthians (SP 7; Collegeville, Minn.: The Liturgical Press, 1999), 126, 128, 135-6, 139, 143; Anthony C. Thiselton, The First Epistle to the Corinthians: A Commentary on the Greek Text (NIGTC; Grand Rapids: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Co., 2000), 224; James D. G. Dunn, 1 Corinthians (T&T Clark Study Guides; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1995; repr., New York: T&T Clark International, 2003), 34, 38; Jerome Murphy-O’Connor, Keys to First Corinthians: Revisiting the Major Issues (New York: Oxford University Press, 2009), 6; and Tim Brookins, “The Wise Corinthians: Their Stoic Education and Outlook,” JTS 62.1 (April 2011): 51.

5 would have been able to make sense of Paul’s thoughts on morality as they are typically portrayed by supporters of the standard interpretation. A thoroughly egalitarian Paul who eschews the notion of hierarchical moral differentiation, and thus also moral development, amongst Christ followers, would not have made sense to ancient Jews and non-Jews alike, for people in antiquity had no conception of the modern notions of equality, virtue, and grace that influence the standard interpretation’s portrayal of

Paul. In order to demonstrate the ways in which Paul’s thoughts on morality would have been intelligible to inhabitants of the ancient Mediterranean, then, I must reclaim as part and parcel of Paul’s thought the schema of moral differentiation that he describes in 1 Cor 2:6-3:4. Thus I endeavor not only to sink the standard interpretation, but also to create new life out of her wreckage on the ocean floor. In addition to proving inadequate and anachronistic the standard interpretation of 1 Cor 2:6-3:4, I provide a historically contextualized rereading of 1 Cor 2:6-3:4 which reclaims as integral to Paul’s own thought the successive levels of moral differentiation that he describes in this passage. I achieve this by situating Paul’s claims in 1 Cor 2:6-3:4 both within the immediate context of his program of moral development and within the broader context of ancient Mediterranean philosophical culture. In short, I show that the most coherent and lucid account of Paul’s argumentation in 1 Cor 2:6-3:4 requires

6 that the concepts of the pneumatic human (πνευματικός), the psychic human

(ψυχικός), the infant (νήπιος), the mature or perfect human (τέλειος), and the fleshly human (σαρκικός, σάρκινος) be placed within a program of moral development that has great similarities with ancient Mediterranean philosophical ethics and is advocated by

Paul himself. By firmly situating Paul’s thoughts on moral differentiation within his program of moral progress, and by securely contextualizing his program of moral progress within ancient Mediterranean philosophical culture – nestling each successive idea within its larger context, much as one assembles a set of matyroshka dolls – I not only demonstrate the centrality of moral differentiation and moral development to

Paul’s thought, but I also highlight some of the ways in which Paul’s thoughts on these matters would have been intelligible, and perhaps even attractive, to inhabitants of the ancient Mediterranean.7

7 My understandings of “intelligibility,” “recognition,” and “attraction” are loosely drawn from social practice theory and the application of such theory to the study of early Christian practice [see Stanley K. Stowers, “Kinds of Myth, Meals, and Power: Paul and the Corinthians,” in Redescribing Paul and the Corinthians (ed. R. Cameron and M. P. Miller; Atlanta: SBL, 2011),” 106; and Theodore R. Schatzki in The Site of the Social: A Philosophical Account of the Constitution of Social Life and Change (University Park: Pennsylvania State University Press, 2002), 75-79]. In claiming to demonstrate the ways in which Paul’s thoughts on morality would have been intelligible to inhabitants of the ancient Mediterranean, I mean specifically to illuminate the ways in which Paul’s first century audiences would have understood Paul as offering one particular kind of program of moral development: a program that, while distinguishable from other ancient philosophical and religious programs of moral development in antiquity, was not wholly unique. Inhabitants of the ancient Mediterranean would have understood, recognized, and made sense of Paul’s program (to varying degrees) by identifying the similarities between

7 I situate Paul’s program of moral progress in relation to ancient Mediterranean culture by means of a detailed, critical comparison with the ethical systems promoted by Greek and Roman philosophers of antiquity. My choice to focus on the relationship between Paul’s thoughts on moral progress and those of ancient Mediterranean philosophers broadly originated largely as a reaction to current New Testament scholars’ myopic focus on the “Hellenistic Jewish” parallels to Paul’s statements in 1

Cor 2:6-3:4. An influential group of scholars whose work on 1 Cor 2:6-3:4 may be seen as contributing to the standard interpretation locate the origins of the Corinthians’ (and thus Paul’s) πνευματικός-ψυχικός terminology within the “Hellenistic Jewish” philosophy of the early Roman imperial period.8 Restricting their investigations to the

Paul’s program of moral progress and those espoused by other philosophical and religious specialists of the day. This notion of recognition is crucial for understanding why certain ancient individuals might have been attracted to Paul’s program of moral development – that is, why some members of Paul’s audience might have considered engaging in the practices recommended by Paul.

8 I will discuss these scholars’ views further in Chapters One and Five. Studies of 1 Cor 2:6- 3:4 that focus on the “Hellenistic Jewish” parallels to Paul’s statements in 1 Cor include: Pearson, Pneumatikos-Psychikos Terminology; Richard A. Horsley, “Pneumatikos Vs. Psychikos: Distinctions of Spiritual Status among the Corinthians,” HTR 69 (1976): 269-288; ibid., “Wisdom of Word and Words of Wisdom in Corinth,” CBQ 39 (1977): 224-239; ibid., “‘How Can Some of You Say That There is No Resurrection of the Dead?’: Spiritual Elitism in Corinth,” NovT 20 (1978): 203-231; James A. Davis, Wisdom and Spirit: An Investigation of 1 Corinthians 1.18-3.20 against the Background of Jewish Sapiential Traditions in the Greco-Roman Period (Lanham, Md.: University Press of American, 1984), 116-124; Gerhard Sellin, Der Streit um die Auferstehung der Toten: Eine religionsgeschichtliche und exegetische Untersuchung von 1 Korinther 15 (FRLANT 138; Göttigen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1986), 65-69; Sterling, “Wisdom Among the Perfect”; and, most

8 search for terminological parallels to Paul’s thought in 1 Cor 2:6-3:4, these scholars claim that the moral hierarchy of 1 Cor 2:6-3:4 derives from “Hellenistic Jewish” wisdom traditions and philosophy. Representing “Hellenistic Jewish” philosophy in these studies are the Wisdom of Solomon and the writings of Philo of Alexandria; often,

Philo of Alexandria is the sole comparandum used to illuminate the meaning of the hierarchical terminology in 1 Cor 2:6-3:4.

This myopic focus on the “Hellenistic Jewish” parallels to Paul’s thought (which, in the context of the standard interpretation, merely results in the comparison of

Paul’s thought with that of Philo of Alexandria) is incredibly problematic, and in

Chapter One I will critique this approach in greater detail. For now it should suffice to note that this exclusive emphasis on the comparison of Paul’s thought with that of

Philo (i.e. “Hellenistic Judaism”) gives the wrong impression that Paul’s thoughts about moral development can be sufficiently historically contextualized through comparison with the thought of Philo. Just as Philo’s own thought cannot be understood outside of the context of Hellenistic philosophy more broadly, neither can Paul’s thought be

recently, James W. Thompson, Moral Formation According to Paul: The Context and Coherence of Pauline Ethics (Grand Rapids, Mich.: Baker Academic, 2011). See Sterling, “Wisdom Among the Perfect,” 356 n.6; and Oh-Young Kwon, “A Critical Review of Recent Scholarship on the Pauline Opposition and the Nature of its Wisdom (σοφία) in 1 Corinthians 1-4,” CBR 8.3 (2010), 400-406, for a more comprehensive summary of those authors who consider “Hellenistic Jewish” comparanda the key to understanding Paul’s statements in 1 Cor 2:6-3:4.

9 understood solely through comparison with Philo’s “Hellenistic Jewish” thought.

Certain aspects of Paul’s thought are not paralleled in that of Philo, but they are paralleled in the thoughts of non-Jewish philosophers of the period. Moreover, by comparing Paul’s thought with that of ancient Mediterranean philosophers more broadly, I am better able to demonstrate the ways in which programs of moral progress promoted by ancient Jews such as Philo and Paul would have been intelligible to non-

Jews in the ancient Mediterranean. Philo and Paul share many ideas about moral progress with ancient non-Jewish philosophers, and by highlighting the similarities between the programs of moral progress promoted by all of these individuals, I am able to illuminate the ways in which Jews’ ideas about moral development would have made sense to non-Jews. This does not mean that there is nothing that distinguishes the programs of moral progress promoted by Jews such as Philo and Paul from the programs of moral progress promoted by non-Jewish Greek and Roman philosophers.

Rather, it means that Jews and non-Jews have in common enough ideas about moral progress that Paul’s program of moral development could have easily appealed to non-

Jews unfamiliar with the God of Israel and Jewish scriptures.

In comparing Paul’s program of moral development with those of ancient

Mediterranean philosophers, I also seek to fill an existing lacuna within New Testament

10 scholarship on Paul’s use of philosophical concepts in his program of moral progress.

Many prominent New Testament scholars have persuasively argued that Paul uses ancient Mediterranean philosophical language and concepts in explicating particular aspects of his program of moral development. Some of these scholars have focused on

Paul’s use of philosophical concepts in his moral exhortations more generally; others have chosen to illuminate particular aspects of Paul’s program of moral progress (such as assimilation to Christ) through comparison with ancient philosophy. Many of these scholars have also limited their examinations to the influence of one particular philosophical school (be that Stoicism, Epicureanism, or Middle Platonism) on Paul’s thought.9 To my knowledge, however, there does not exist within New Testament scholarship a monograph that is solely dedicated to a comprehensive elucidation of

9 Notable studies of Paul’s use of ancient philosophical concepts in explicating aspects of his program of moral development include: Abraham J. Malherbe, “‘Gentle as a Nurse’: The Cynic Background to 1 Thess II,” NovT 12.2 (1970): 203-217; ibid., “Exhortation in First Thessalonians,” NovT 25.3 (1983): 238-256; Wayne A. Meeks, The Moral World of the First Christians (Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 1986); Stanley K. Stowers, A Rereading of Romans: Justice, Jews, and Gentiles (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1994); Dale B. Martin, The Corinthian Body (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1995); Troels Engberg-Pedersen, Paul and the Stoics (Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2000); ibid., Cosmology and Self in the Apostle Paul: The Material Spirit (New York: Oxford University Press, 2010); Clarence E. Glad, Paul and Philodemus: Adaptability in Epicurean and Early Christian Psychagogy (NovTSup 81; Atlanta: SBL, 1995); George H. van Kooten, Paul’s Anthropology in Context: The Image of God, Assimilation to God, and Tripartite Man in Ancient Judaism, Ancient Philosophy and Early Christianity (WUNT 232; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2008); Emma Wasserman, The Death of the Soul in Romans 7: Sin, Death, and the Law in Light of Hellenistic Moral Psychology (WUNT 256; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2008); Runar M. Thorsteinsson, Roman Christianity and Roman Stoicism: A Comparative Study of Ancient Morality (New York: Oxford University Press, 2010).

11 Paul’s program of moral development and an examination of its relationship to all three major philosophies of Paul’s day: Stoicism, Middle Platonism, and Epicureanism.

This dissertation seeks to fill this lacuna.

Given the rationales that lie behind the self-imposed limits to this dissertation, then, a few words must be said about my choice to use as a comparandum for Paul’s thought the writings of the Jewish philosopher Philo of Alexandria. After all, supporters of the standard interpretation consider Philo’s thought the main representative of the

“Hellenistic Jewish” philosophical exegesis which is believed to illuminate the meaning of Paul’s claims in 1 Cor 2:6-3:4. Why, then, the need for another study that compares

Philo’s thoughts on moral development with those of Paul? I have chosen to include in this dissertation a study of Philo’s program of moral development partially because I believe there remains more to be said about the similarities and differences between

Philo’s thought and that of Paul. I have also investigated Philo’s program of moral development alongside those promoted by Seneca the Younger and Plutarch of

Chaeronea because I wish to show that Philo’s thought fits squarely within the broader rubric of ancient philosophical ethics. By viewing Philo as one of many ancient

Mediterranean philosophers who explicate theories of moral development, rather than as a Jewish outlier, I show that many similarities between the thought of Paul and Philo

12 necessarily speak to the relationship between Paul and ancient Mediterranean philosophy more generally. Moreover, by highlighting the existence of shared ideas between, on the one hand, Paul’s and Philo’s programs of moral development and, on the other hand, non-Jewish philosophers’ programs of moral development, I demonstrate the ways in which Paul’s program of moral development would have made sense and been intelligible to non-Jews of the ancient Mediterranean.

Though I do compare Philo of Alexandria’s thought to Paul’s program of moral development, I do not compare Paul’s thoughts on moral progress with any other Jews’ thoughts on the subject. To be sure, a comparison of Paul’s program of moral development with texts produced by contemporary Jews would be of great utility in historically situating Paul’s program of moral development. For example, the Dead Sea

Scrolls document known as Rule of the Community (also Serek Hayaḥad, 1QS, or Manual of

Discipline) is an excellent comparandum for Paul’s program of moral development and differentiation. Among other things, the Rule of the Community details the stages, mechanisms, and goals of moral progress that condition entrance to and inclusion within a particular settlement of people. The document also attests to the importance of moral differentiation amongst participants in this community. 10 Just as Paul

10 I use the concept of “community” only to refer to the way in which authors envision the assemblies of people to whom they write. I take seriously Stanley Stowers’ critique of scholars’

13 imagines a group of morally mature Christ followers examining less mature Christ followers to aid in the latter’s moral development and initiation into the assembly, so too the Rule of the Community describes in great detail a process of moral instruction and correction that is dependent upon the existence of moral differentiation within the community.11 A more comprehensive study of Paul’s program of moral development and differentiation would undoubtedly include in its analysis Jewish texts such as the

Rule of the Community, but I have concentrated my energies in another direction.

My decision to situate Paul’s program of moral development in ancient

Mediterranean culture by means of a comparison with ancient philosophers’ programs of moral development also raises several issues related to class and educational differences amongst Paul’s audiences in Corinth and elsewhere. As I later argue, Paul use of the concept of “community” in relation to the early Christian movement [most notably in “The Concept of ‘Community’ and the History of Early Christianity,” MTSR 23 (2011): 238- 256], and I do not intend to imply that the individuals to whom Paul or the author(s) of the Rule of the Community were writing constituted actual communities in the sense of “highly coherent social formations with commonality in thought and practice.” Rather, I mean simply that these authors envision the groups to whom they write as cohesive communities. See also Stowers, “Kinds of Myth,” 109.

11 Cf. 1 Cor 11.23-25 and 1QS V 23-24 (Martínez and Tigchelaar): “And they shall be recorded in order, one before the other, according to one’s insight and one’s deeds, in such a way that each one obeys another, the junior the senior. And their spirit and their deeds must be tested, year after year, in order to upgrade each one to the extent of his insight and the perfection of his path, or to demote him according to his failings.” For more on the issue of moral development and differentiation in the Community Rule, see John J. Collins, Beyond the Qumran Community: The Sectarian Movement of the Dead Sea Scrolls (Grand Rapids, Mich.: Wm. B. Eerdmans, 2010), 52-75.

14 competently and expertly crafts a program of moral progress that draws upon concepts and frameworks used by ancient Mediterranean philosophers. Though basic philosophical ideas about moral development had been filtered into popular discourse by Paul’s day (for example, notions about the positive correlation between deification, virtue acquisition, and the control of one’s emotions), more technical philosophical terms and concepts were the sole purview of an educated, intellectual elite. This raises the question: would everyone in Paul’s assemblies have picked up on the technical philosophical terms and concepts that Paul uses in explicating his program of moral progress for non-Jews? The answer to this question is, most likely, no. Paul almost certainly intellectualized his theories regarding moral development by using philosophical concepts and frameworks to explicate his thought, and he likely did so in part to attract elites and other well-educated individuals to his message.12 Certainly there were Christ followers in Corinth who would not have recognized Paul’s use of technical philosophical concepts, but this does not mean that Paul’s use of more popular philosophical concepts would have been unintelligible to non-elites.13 Indeed, it is one of the aims of this dissertation to show that Paul uses a wide range of

12 Stowers, “Kinds of Myth,” 122, 140-1.

13 Ibid., 127: “Practices are so complex that participants are never aware of all the implications, consequences, possible meanings, or effects of their activity in a practice.”

15 philosophical concepts in promoting his program of moral development, and that different philosophical concepts and frameworks would have resonated differently across various registers of ancient Mediterranean culture.

The strength and utility of this dissertation, therefore, lies in its comprehensiveness with regard to the reinterpretation of 1 Cor 2:6-3:4, the reconstruction of Paul’s program of moral development, and the historical contextualization of that program through comparison with ancient Mediterranean philosophy. I prove problematic the assumptions that drive the standard interpretation of 1 Cor 2:6-3:4 and dismantle the exegetical arguments constructed in support of this interpretation. I thoroughly situate Paul’s ideas about moral differentiation within his larger program of moral development. I consider the influence of all three major philosophical schools on Paul’s thoughts regarding moral development, and I examine the way in which Paul integrates his thoughts on corrupt emotions, desires, deification, and virtue into a program of moral development.

This dissertation is divided into five chapters. In Chapter One, “The Puzzle of

Moral Progress in Paul’s Letters,” I identify three anachronistic assumptions that dominate Pauline scholarship and inhibit a historically-situated redescription of Paul’s program of moral development and differentiation. I describe these anachronistic

16 assumptions, provide examples of the ways in which these assumptions affect studies of Paul’s notion of moral progress, and detail the possible ideological concerns that contribute to the persistence of such assumptions. By showing that such assumptions arise out of historically embedded ideological concerns that are foreign to ancient

Mediterranean culture, I hope to clear the path for my reconstruction and historical contextualization of Paul’s program of moral development in the ensuing chapters.

Before reconstructing and historically situating Paul’s program of moral development and differentiation, I provide in Chapter Two (“Virtue Cultivation in

Ancient Mediterranean Philosophy”) a general outline of Stoic, Epicurean, and Middle

Platonic systems of moral progress from their respective beginnings through the advent of Roman imperial rule. I describe each school’s ethical goal, the steps considered necessary for achieving this goal, and the levels of moral development that such steps entail. I also focus on several areas of dispute between Stoics, Epicureans, and Middle Platonists regarding moral progress. I have included Chapter Two in this dissertation because I wish my audience to understand each of these ethical systems in their own right, rather than reading a piecemeal comparison of ancient philosophy with Paul’s thought. 14 Those readers who are already well educated in ancient

14 Here I follow Abraham J. Malherbe’s dictum, ad fontes! As Malherbe writes regarding his approach to the study of classical sources in the Introduction to Light from the Gentiles: Hellenistic

17 philosophical ethics may wish to skip Chapter Two and proceed directly to Chapter

Three.

In Chapter Three, “Philosophers’ Programs of Moral Progress in Early Imperial

Rome,” I examine the ways in which particular philosophers of first and second century imperial Rome – Philo of Alexandria, Seneca the Younger, and Plutarch of Chaeronea – work with and supplement the ethical theories of their respective philosophical traditions in explicating their programs of moral progress. I argue that the programs of moral progress promoted by the Middle Platonists Philo and Plutarch are far more flexible and incorporate a more diverse set of ideas than does the program of moral progress promoted by the Stoic Seneca. I suggest that this is due, at least in part, to the diversity and malleability of Plato’s own thought. By explicating the ways in which these ancient philosophers work within their respective traditions, I provide analogues for understanding the ways in which Paul draws upon philosophical concepts in crafting his program of moral development.

Philosophy and Early Christianity: Collected Essays, 1959-2012 (ed. C. R. Holladay, J. T. Fitzgerald, J. W. Thompson, and G. E. Sterling; NovTSup 150; Leiden: Brill, 2014), 2-3: “I have sought to respect the integrity of both sets of sources, Christian and non-Christian alike. This conviction that the motto ad fontes! is all-important explains my concern to make the Graeco-Roman material more easily available….It appeared to me manifestly wrong to use the non-Christian material as a quarry to be mined in order to adorn some portrayal or other of something Christian.”

18 In the fourth chapter of this dissertation, “Gaining Christ through Virtue: Paul’s

Program of Moral Development,” I reconstruct Paul’s program of moral progress for non-Jewish Christ followers and situate it firmly within ancient Mediterranean culture by demonstrating its similarities to and differences from ancient philosophical ethics.

In reconstructing Paul’s program of moral development I draw primarily from several passages in three of Paul’s authentic letters: 1 Thess 3:12-4:12; Phil 1:9-11, 1:25-26, 3:7-

17; and Gal 5:16-6:6. I argue that the content of Paul’s program aligns most closely with and is best illuminated through comparison with Middle Platonic ethics. Though Paul integrates into his program of moral progress amenable Stoic and Epicurean ideas, as do the Middle Platonists Philo and Plutarch, his overall approach to moral development has more in common with Middle Platonist philosophers than with Stoic and Epicurean philosophers. In this chapter I also argue that the high degree of alignment between

Paul’s thought and Middle Platonic ideas is directly related to Paul’s ability to pull into one cohesive and coherent program concepts deriving from disparate religious and philosophical traditions.

Throughout Chapter Four I argue without recourse to an analysis of 1 Cor 2:6-

3:4, since this passage occupies my attention in Chapter Five, “Moral Differentiation amongst Christ Followers in 1 Cor 2:6-3:4.” In Chapter Five I deliver a comprehensive

19 rereading of 1 Cor 2:6-3:4 which takes seriously Paul’s historical situation and the process of moral progress that he envisions non-Jewish Christ followers undergoing. I dismantle the exegetical arguments typically marshaled in support of the “standard interpretation” of 1 Cor 2:6-3:4, and I provide a translation and rereading of 1 Cor 2:6-

3:4 that takes into account Paul’s historical situation and his use of philosophical concepts. I argue that Paul envisions a moral hierarchy in which the fleshly, infantile human (σάρκινος/σαρκικός, νήπιος), the psychic human (ψυχικός), and the pneumatic, mature human (πνευματικός, τέλειος) represent successive stages of Christ followers’ moral development. While Paul might have chosen to use these specific terms because they resonated with the Corinthians and addressed concerns that were particular to the Corinthian assembly of Christ followers, evidence derived from Paul’s letters does not logically necessitate that Paul is reworking or ridiculing Corinthian catchphrases or pretensions to elitism in this passage. In my conclusion, I summarize my findings and gesture to other potentially fruitful avenues of research with regard to the study of

Paul’s program of moral development.

Definitions and Categories

Any responsible examination of Paul’s program of moral progress for Christ followers must include definitions of those concepts that are central to said enterprise.

20 In what follows, therefore, I provide for the reader my definitions of “virtue,” “morals,” and “ethics.” I also explain to the reader my reasons for referring to ancient “Jews” rather than “Judeans,” and my rationale for endeavoring to write of the practices and thoughts of Jews rather than an abstract and monolithic “Judaism.” Finally, I describe for the reader my understanding and use of the term “Christ follower” in this dissertation, and I outline my usage of categories such as “Platonism,” “Stoicism,” and

“Epicureanism.”

In order to clarify for the reader the definitions of “virtue,” “morals,” and

“ethics” with which I operate in this dissertation, I must first highlight the ancient notions of virtue from which I draw in formulating my definitions. In doing so, I begin by distinguishing between a broad, folk notion of virtue held by the average person in the ancient world and the technical definitions of virtue promoted by various ancient philosophers. I then address the major differences between my definitions of “virtue,”

“morals,” and “ethics,” and current uses of these terms.

Most people today would agree that, in the same way that a person need not possess a degree in mathematics in order to understand the meaning of “math,” a person need not be an ethicist in order to understand the meaning of “virtue.” There is a broad, folk notion of virtue with which most of us operate; more nuanced and

21 technical definitions are typically the domain of ethicists, philosophers, and other intellectuals concerned with fine-tuning folk notions of virtue in order to delineate the scopes of their inquiries and probe the complexities of human practices. A person’s ability to understand folk notions of virtue does not depend on his or her acquaintance with technical definitions. For example, a married man who exasperatedly cites his

“damn virtue” in turning down the advances of an attractive woman clearly operates with a folk notion of virtue and assumes that the woman to whom he is attracted does as well. Neither this man nor this woman, however, need understand the technical definitions of virtue offered by intellectuals in order to successfully communicate with one another and understand the object of the man’s curse as faithfulness to his wife. On the other hand, a person’s ability to understand or create technical definitions of virtue does depend upon his or her knowledge of folk notions. For example, a debate between a virtue ethicist and a utilitarian over the importance of an action’s outcome for the virtuousness of an agent both depends upon and arises from these intellectuals’ knowledge of a broad, folk notion of virtue. (Otherwise, there would be no common ground upon which these intellectuals might build their divergent definitions.) Thus an understanding of folk notions is primary to knowledge of technical definitions.15

15 Of course, it is completely possible that technical definitions of virtue may filter down from intellectual thought and in diluted form influence popular notions about virtue. Influence

22 The same holds true for the ancient Mediterranean world. Ancient philosophers operate with very technical definitions of virtue, yet these nuanced definitions begin as refinements of and corrections to broader, folk conceptions of virtue (as well as other technical definitions).16 An ancient Mediterranean folk notion of virtue is attested in the ancient literature, inscriptions, coins, and art of post-classical Greece and Rome.

Inscriptions from Asia Minor and Italy ascribe to honorees virtues such as generosity, piety, faithfulness, and love.17 Coins issued during the reign of Tiberias advertise the virtues of mercy and moderation.18 The writings and scriptures of ancient Jews praise

extends in both directions, and it is not my intention to assert that folk notions are ontologically primary to technical definitions – this would be every bit as ridiculous as attempting to solve the eternally perplexing “chicken or egg” conundrum. Rather, I mean to say that humans may understand folk notions without ever understanding technical definitions, whereas humans’ abilities to formulate technical definitions of a particular thing depends upon their knowledge of common, folk notions of that thing.

16 Regarding the relationship between ancient, popular notions of virtue and the technical definitions of ancient philosophers, I am in agreement with Teresa Morgan, Popular Morality in the Early Roman Empire (New York: Cambridge University Press, 2007), 299: “Professional philosophers no more created new ethical systems in order to study ethics, than grammarians invented new languages in order to study philology. High philosophy begins, at least, by depending on popular ideas.”

17 For more on Italian honorary inscriptions, see Elizabeth Forbis, Municipal Virtues in the Roman Empire: The Evidence of Italian Honorary Inscriptions (Beiträge zur Altertumskunde 79; ed. E. Heitsch et al; Stuttgart: B. G. Teubner, 1996). For more on Ephesian inscriptions, see Morgan, Popular Morality, 301-304.

18 Andrew Wallace-Hadrill, “The Emperor and His Virtues,” HZAG 30.3 (1981): 298-323.

23 these same virtues.19 Proverbs preserved in literature, dice oracles preserved on stone, imperial monuments erected in Rome: taken together these sources provide ample evidence for the existence and substance of a folk notion of virtue, the popular recognition of which producers of these artifacts could depend upon for communication.20

I understand the ancient Mediterranean folk notion of virtue to be something like “dispositions and habits of character that are good and proper.” There is no one-to- one correspondence between my definition and any particular word in Greek and Latin,

19 A Jew of the first century CE listening to the book of Proverbs being read aloud, for example, would have heard in this text praise of virtues such as righteousness, wisdom, faithfulness, and practical intelligence. Philo of Alexandria emphasizes the need for the sage to possess practical wisdom, temperance, courage, justice, self-control, piety, repentance, and nobility (Leg. 1.63; Agr. 98; Spec. 4.135; Virt. 175-227). The fact that Jews held in high esteem the same virtues as did Greeks and Romans should come as no surprise, given that Jews living in the ancient Mediterranean were subject to many of the same cultural influences as non-Jews.

20 This is not to say that attempts to wrest from these sources evidence regarding the existence and substance of a folk notion of virtue are undertaken without methodological difficulty. Honorary inscriptions, for example, often were produced for and by elite members of society, and only literate passersby could read such inscriptions. Yet this does not preclude the possibility that the content of these inscriptions was communicated orally to non-literate members of society. Coins inscribed with the single word clementia, when considered in isolation from other evidence, do not tell us much about the specific meaning or importance of this word, but they do attest to the fact that imperial minters expected others to recognize clementia as a good, right, and proper character trait. In other words, each of these sources, when examined in isolation, can only give us a limited and myopic snapshot of the ancient folk notion of virtue. Considered alongside one another, however, they provide indisputable evidence for the existence, and content, of an ancient, folk notion of virtue.

24 though ἀρετή, virtus, and mos align most closely.21 Within this general category of virtue fall many specific dispositions and habits of character that inhabitants of the ancient

Mediterranean thought good, including, but not limited to: practical intelligence

(φρόνησις, prudentia), justice (δικαιοσύνη, iustitia), manly courage (ἀνδρεία, virtus), piety (εὐσέβεια, ὁσιότης, pietas), moderation (σωφροσύνη, moderatio), self-control

(ἐγκράτεια), chastity (pudicitia), and faithfulness (πίστις, fides).22 Conditions or states that some ancients might categorize as good and proper emotions – such as joy (χαρά, gaudium) or love (ἔρος, ἀγάπη, φιλία, amor) – in certain contexts may also be considered virtues by the standards set forth here if such good emotions are consistent enough to be considered dispositions rather than fleeting impulses.

21 Each of these words can indicate something like “virtue” or “good habit of character” in certain contexts, though they can also be used to indicate something more general or more specific. Ἀρετή, for example, can mean “virtue,” but can also mean “excellence” generally or “courage” specifically. The range of meanings available for the Latin virtus and mos is perhaps even greater than the Greek term ἀρετή. Virtus, for example, was used by the ancients to translate both the Greek term ἀρετή and the Greek term ἀνδρεία; see Myles McDonnell, “Roman Men and Greek Virtue,” in Andreia: Studies in Manliness and Courage in Classical Antiquity (ed. R. M. Rosen and I. Sluiter; Boston: Brill 2003), 235-261.

22 Unsurprisingly, the types of virtues honored, the rankings of virtues, and the exact meanings of specific virtues differ across cultures, time, geographical locations, and mediums. For example, Greeks and Romans differ slightly in their emphasis on virtues associated with devotion to the community (see Morgan’s comparison of the virtues lauded in Ephesian inscriptions and those praised in Italian inscriptions, 307-309). Italian inscriptions of the Roman empire do not once reference sapientia or prudentia, two virtues highly praised by Greek and Roman philosophers (Forbis, 95). Yet, despite such differences, there is enough overlap in vocabulary and meaning to enable us to speak of a common, folk notion of virtue.

25 A bit more difficult to categorize as virtues, however, are states of being such as

“holiness” (ἁγιασμός) and “purity” (ἁγνότης, καθαρότης). Determining the relationship between these states and virtue is of great importance given Paul’s use of these terms and their cognates. 23 These terms are often used to indicate good and proper ontological states that resemble virtue or accompany the possession of virtue, but they themselves are not exactly virtues in the sense of “dispositions and character traits that are good and proper.” This is because terms like “holiness” and “purity” can be used to describe the ontological states of inanimate objects, whereas virtues cannot be so used. A temple, for example, cannot possess the virtue of courage, but it can be described as holy. Water cannot possess self-control, but it can be described as pure.

The problem, then, is that “holiness” and “purity” represent broader ontological states that are typically deployed in cultic settings, and these concepts only come to resemble virtue when they are used to describe the ontological state of a human being. I will therefore refer to these states as “cultic markers of virtue” when they are used to describe the condition of a human being. They may not be virtues in the sense of “good

23 Paul includes pure things in his list of virtues and praiseworthy things (Phil 4:8; cf. 2 Cor 6:6). He lists the opposite of purity (impurity) alongside works of the flesh, which include idolatry, jealousy, anger, and envy, and he contrasts impurity with the virtue of righteousness (Gal 5:19; Rom 6:19). Holiness, Paul claims, is the end result of acting in a righteous and proper manner (1 Thess 4:3-7; Rom 6:19).

26 dispositions or habits of character,” but they indicate the goodness and propriety of an agent in a way that resembles and often accompanies the ascription of virtue.24

Ancient Mediterranean philosophers seek to refine and correct the ancient folk notion of virtue. As we shall see in Chapter Two, Stoics, Middle Platonists, and

Epicureans operate with technical definitions of virtue that are slightly different from one another, but their definitions do converge on several points. Philosophers of all three schools recognize three main aspects of virtue: the dispositional, the affective, and the intellectual.25 In accordance with the ancient folk notion of virtue that I have provided, ancient philosophers believe the virtues are dispositions, or conditions, that dispose one to act in certain ways. As such they are agent-, rather than act-centered

(though we must be careful not to press this distinction to the extent that we ignore

24 My thoughts on this subject owe much to the arguments of Saul M. Olyan in his monograph Rites and Rank: Hierarchy in Biblical Representations of Cult (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2000). Olyan’s book is particularly helpful in thinking about the ways in which cultic rhetoric, such as the binary oppositions of holy/common and clean/unclean, can be applied to humans in order to communicate differences of social status.

25 The following explication owes much to Julia Annas’ influential work, The Morality of Happiness (New York: Oxford University Press, 1993); see also her article which explores the differences between “Ancient Ethics and Modern Morality,” Philosophical Perspectives 6, Ethics (1992): 119-136. Though Annas sometimes overemphasizes the common ground upon which the ethics of various philosophical schools rest, thus distorting certain aspects of these schools’ ethical programs, she is, I think, correct in her recognition of the aspects cited above as characteristics of virtue asserted by Stoics, Platonists, and Epicureans alike. For a helpful analysis of Annas’ The Morality of Happiness, see Brad Inwood, review of J. Annas, The Morality of Happiness, AP 15 (1995): 647-665.

27 the centrality of action to ancient notions of virtue). Philosophers also emphasize the affective aspect of virtue: having virtue requires that one enjoys acting in a virtuous manner and takes pleasure in doing what is right. Moreover, philosophers agree that virtue has an intellectual component: virtue involves understanding the reasons behind one’s actions. Thus the acquisition of virtue and the cultivation of wisdom, from the ancient perspective, are mutually entailing acts that are inextricably linked.26 In addition to asserting these dispositional, affective, and intellectual aspects of “virtue,” ancient Mediterranean philosophers often assert that the virtues are unified and reciprocal: the full possession of one virtue entails the full possession of all virtues.27

Enumerations of the specific virtues vary amongst ancient philosophers, though the four virtues most commonly lauded are practical intelligence (φρόνησις), manly courage (ἀνδρεία), moderation (σωφροσύνη), and justice (δικαιοσύνη).

Context will typically make clear whether my usage of the term “virtue” in any given chapter should be taken in a broad, folk sense, or in a technical, philosophical sense. In my chapters on philosophy, “virtue” will refer to such as defined by Stoics,

26 The Stoics, for example, agree that virtue is “a certain disposition of the governing portion of the soul and a faculty engendered by reason, or rather…reason which is in accord with virtue and is firm and unshaken” (τοῦ ἡγεμονικοῦ τῆς ψυχῆς διάθεσίν τινα καὶ δύναμιν γεγενημένην ὑπὸ λόγου, μάλλον δὲ λόγον οὖσαν αὐτὴν ὁμολογούμενον καὶ βέβαιον καὶ ἀμετάπτωτον ὑποτίθενται; Plutarch, Virt. mor. 441B-C [Helmbold]).

27 The virtues are also often said to be unified by the virtue of practical intelligence.

28 Epicureans, and/or Middle Platonists. In my discussions of Paul’s writings, unqualified usages of “virtue” will refer to the ancient folk notion of virtue. It is one purpose of this dissertation to determine if Paul operates with a folk notion of virtue, a technical definition of virtue similar to the philosophers, or something in between. Thus I begin by pointing out Paul’s use of “virtue” in the broad, folk sense, and only then proceed to investigate whether or not Paul refines this broad notion of virtue in a way that is similar to the ancient philosophers.

The distinction that I posit between the terms “morals” and “ethics” also deserves explanation, since my definitions may be different from that with which readers of this dissertation operate. My usage of the terms “morals” and “ethics” are based on the broad, folk notion of virtue that I have outlined above. I use “morals,”

“morality,” and the adjectival form “moral” to refer to anything having to do with virtue, and I reserve my use of the term “ethics” (and the related qualifier “ethical”) specifically for references to systems or comprehensive programs aimed at cultivating the virtues. Thus I am more likely to refer to the acquisition of virtue as “moral progress” and the philosophical systems that theorize this progress as “ethics.”

Moreover, because Paul’s program of moral progress, at least insofar as we are able to reconstruct it from his letters, is not as comprehensive or systematic as the programs

29 of ancient philosophers, I endeavor to avoid speaking of Paul’s notions of morality as

“ethics” unless I am reproducing the language of other scholars.28

The reader may also find it odd that I – and the ancients – include among our notion of virtue and morality dispositions such as piety and reverence for the gods.29

This confusion likely results from the fact that, in today’s linguistic currency, the term

“moral” is often used in opposition to the term “religious.” Today many people use the qualifier “moral” to describe a person who, while not participating in religious practices, still does good things. This is not how the ancients viewed virtue or morality.

The existence of gods was a given in antiquity. Moreover, though debates raged over the nature of the gods, the involvement of gods in human affairs, and the proper way to worship the gods, the notion that a good life involved proper attitudes toward the gods was ubiquitous. Indeed, so fundamental was the link between the virtues and the divine that the virtues themselves were personified as gods by Greeks and Romans, and

28 Many other New Testament scholars are equally reticent to apply the term “ethics” to Paul’s notions of morality. See, for example, Wayne A. Meeks, The Origins of Christian Morality: The First Two Centuries (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1993), 3, 69; Wolfgang Schrage, The Ethics of the New Testament (trans. D. E. Green; Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1988), 5.

29 The inclusion of piety and reverence for the gods among the virtues is common amongst ancient non-philosophers and philosophers alike. A late first- or second-century inscription from Terracina, for example, notes the pietas of a local benefactor toward the cult of Jupiter Capitolinus alongside the virtue of generosity (liberalitas) (N. 98 in Forbis’ Municipal Virtues). Philo of Alexandria, writing in the first century BCE, also cites piety (εὐσέβεια), reverence (ὁσιότης), and service to god (θεοσέβεια) as virtues (Philo, Spec. 4.134-5).

30 philosophers believed that the acquisition of virtue would liken them to the gods.30

Thus, though it might seem odd to consider as virtues dispositions such as piety and reverence toward the gods, ancient readers would not have given it a second thought, and neither should readers of this dissertation.

Any interpreter of Paul and his letters also faces the difficult task of deciding upon a label for those ancients who identify themselves or are identified by others as

Ἰουδαῖοι: should we call them “Jews” or “Judeans”? Whereas inhabitants of the ancient

Mediterranean use the identifier Ἰουδαίος to evoke ethnic and religious affiliations, our language and conceptual frameworks compel us to choose a rendering of Ἰουδαίος that emphasizes either the religious affiliation of an individual (“Jew”) or the ethnic affiliation of an individual (“Judean”).31 Either choice poses serious problems to the interpreter. As many scholars have pointed out, the translation of Ἰουδαίος as “Jew” deemphasizes the ethnic connotations that are clearly present in ancients’ use of

30 Divinized virtues of the Latin-speaking West include: Spes (hope), Virtus, Pietas, Clementia, Indulgentia (mildness), Iustitia, and Pudicitia. Divinized virtues of the Greek-speaking East include Σωφροσύνη and Ἀρετή. For more on this, see Morgan, Popular Morality, 311-312; also L. R. Lind, “Roman Religion and Ethical Thought: Abstraction and Personification,” CJ 69.2 (1973-1974): 108-119.

31 The conceptual framework that gives rise to this dichotomy between religion and ethnicity seems to have arisen out of the context of late antique Christian polemics; see Steve Mason, “Jews, Judaeans, Judaizing, Judaism: Problems of Categorization in Ancient History,” JSJ 38.4/5 (2007): 457-512; and Cynthia Baker, “A ‘Jew’ by any Other Name?,” JAJ 2.2 (2011): 153-180.

31 Ἰουδαίος. The translation “Jew” can also be used to support a theological narrative of

Jewish continuity from pre-exilic to modern times that does not reflect the messiness of history.32 The translation of Ἰουδαίος as “Judean” also has its own pitfalls. The translation “Judean” is employed by some scholars in order to highlight the oft- neglected ethnic, geographic, and ancestral connotations that govern ancient understandings of Ἰουδαίος prior to a particular point in history.33 Yet, as some scholars have begun to note, the translation of Ἰουδαίος as “Judean” still assumes a dichotomy between ethnicity and religion that did not exist in antiquity (at least until the advent of late antique Christian polemics). Moreover, in asserting that Ἰουδαίος should be translated as “Judean” prior to a particular point in history and as “Jew” after a particular point in history, scholars imply that the ethnic narratives of the Ἰουδαῖοι ceased to be relevant as Ἰουδαίος came to be understood in a religious sense as “Jew.”34

32 As Baker, “Other Name,” 178-179, notes in her discussion of Marc Zvi Brettler’s work; cf. Caroline Johnson Hodge, If Sons, Then Heirs: A Study of Kinship and Ethnicity in the Letters of Paul (New York: Oxford University Press, 2007), 13-15.

33 See, for example, Mason, “Jews, Judaeans, Judaizing, Judaism.”

34 Baker, “Other Name,” 170-180; Johnson Hodge, If Sons, Then Heirs, 13-15.

32 As Cynthia Baker notes, “there was no evolution from ‘ethnic Judeans’ to ‘religious

Jews’.35

In the end both translations of Ἰουδαίος possess explanatory power, but both problematically impose upon the term Ἰουδαίος a dichotomy between ethnicity and religion which did not exist in antiquity. Caroline Johnson Hodge has attempted to avoid the aforementioned pitfalls of each translation of Ἰουδαίος by leaving Ἰουδαίος untranslated in most instances and by occasionally employing “Jew” and “Jewish” to emphasize the continuities between first century descendants of Abraham and modern

Jews.36 But this approach, at least to me, seems inconsistent. Moreover, leaving

Ἰουδαίος untranslated leaves us with no adjectival equivalent with which to express

“Jewish” or “Judean.” In the absence of a clearly superior translation of Ἰουδαίος that encompasses religious and ethnic connotations without privileging one over the other, then, I have decided to render the term Ἰουδαίος as “Jew.” I recognize that this has the potential to privilege the religious affiliations of ancient Jews over their ethnic affiliations, so I end by pleading with the reader to recognize that “Jew,” as it is employed in this dissertation, indicates both a religious and an ethnic affiliation, and

35 Baker, “Other Name,” 178.

36 Johnson Hodge, If Sons, Then Heirs, 15.

33 that these affiliations are not meant to be viewed as contradictory or opposing, but as mutually reinforcing.

In addition to using the term “Jew” in referring to the Ἰουδαίος of antiquity, I also endeavor to write of the practices of “Jews” rather than to refer to these practices as constituting some monolithic “Judaism.” Michael Satlow has drawn attention to the ways in which the use of “Judaism” as an analytical category not only obscures the inherent complexity of history and culture, but also wrests agency from Jews themselves. Asserting that “Jews exist, not Judaism,” Satlow emphasizes that, despite the linguistic awkwardness that might arise from referring to the actions of Jews rather than Judaism, it is more accurate to speak of what Jews do rather than what “Judaism” does.37 Satlow continues: “It is always important to remember that ‘Judaism’ as we use the term is a heuristic construct, a category created and used by modern scholars for specific reasons. Getting beyond the confusion that it has created in historiography of the Jews of antiquity requires shifting attention to the agents themselves, the Jews.”38

Thus I have endeavored to write about the practices of Jews rather than Judaism

37 Michael L. Satlow, “Beyond Influence: Toward a New Historiographic Paradigm,” in Jewish Literatures and Cultures: Context and Intertext (ed. A. Norich, Y. Z. Eliav; Providence, R.I.: Brown University, 2008), 43.

38 Ibid., 44.

34 wherever possible, operating with a malleable and polythetic understanding of

“Judaism” when the strictures of language necessitate that I do so.

I use the term “Christ follower” to refer to ancient non-Jews who came to know and worship Christ and the God of the Jews.39 Certainly, the early Christ movement included amongst its adherents Jews and non-Jews alike, and my limiting of the term

“Christ follower” to those non-Jews who worship Christ is not meant to imply that Jews could not be Christ followers. Rather, it is meant to signal one of the major parameters of my study: in the chapters that follow I focus on elucidating the program of moral progress that Paul envisions non-Jewish Christ followers undergoing.

This parameter is partly dictated by the nature of our evidence, partly self- imposed. Within the last generation, several prominent Pauline scholars have persuasively argued that Paul writes specifically to τὰ ἔθνη, “the non-Jewish peoples”

(also commonly translated as “Gentiles” or “the nations”).40 These scholars of the so- called “radical New Perspective” have convincingly demonstrated, in my opinion, that

39 I employ the term “Christ follower” rather than “Christian” for obvious reasons – the latter term is an anachronism when applied to Paul’s thought and suggests an opposition to “Judaism” which Paul himself did not envision.

40 I typically translate τὰ ἔθνη as “non-Jewish peoples,” though I sometimes employ the modifier “Gentile” rather than “non-Jewish” in order to avoid cumbersome wording.

35 Paul’s teachings are directed to non-Jews rather than Jews.41 Paul approaches issues of religious practice from the perspective of the non-Jew and considers himself to be responsible for spreading the good message concerning Christ to non-Jews in particular

(Rom 1:5, 11:13-14; Gal 2:2-9). Though some first century Jews may have been among the early empirical readers of Paul’s letters, Paul does not explicitly or implicitly inscribe Jewish readers into his epistles. He addresses the plight of the Jews in relation to the Christ event, but he does not address his teachings to real, historical Jews who follow Christ.42 Instead Paul writes to non-Jews who have become Christ followers, and

41 My use of the term “radical” to describe this particular perspective on Paul follows the standard set by scholars such as Pamela Eisenbaum, “Paul, Polemics, and the Problem of Essentialism,” Biblical Interpretation 13.3 (2005), 232; Johnson Hodge, If Sons, Then Heirs, 9-11; and Magnus Zetterholm, Approaches to Paul: A Student’s Guide to Recent Scholarship (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2009). Zetterholm, 161, helpfully summarizes the main points of contention between such scholars and those of the “New Perspective” who preceded them. The seminal and influential works of the “radical new perspective” include Krister Stendahl, “The Apostle Paul and the Introspective Conscience of the West,” HTR 56 (1963): 199-215; Lloyd Gaston, Paul and the Torah (Vancouver: University of British Columbia Press, 1990); Stowers, Rereading; John G. Gager, The Origins of Antisemitism (New York: Oxford University Press, 1985); and ibid., Reinventing Paul (New York: Oxford University Press, 2000). Other representatives of the “radical new perspective” include Paula Fredriksen, Neil Elliott, and Mark Nanos; see, for example, Fredriksen, “Judaism, the Cirucmcision of Gentiles, and Apocalyptic Hope: Another Look at Galatians 1 and 2,” JTS 42.2 (1991): 544-548; Elliott, The Rhetoric of Romans Argumentative Constraint and Strategy and Paul’s Dialogue with Judaism (2nd ed.; Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2007); and Nanos, The Irony of Galatians: Paul’s Letter in First-Century Context (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2002).

42 That is, though ancient Jews were likely among the empirical readers of Paul’s letters (“empirical readers” referring to any person who reads or hears Paul’s letters), they are not the encoded readers (“encoded readers” referring to those readers or hearers whom Paul inscribes,

36 he only mentions Jews for the purpose of clarifying for non-Jews their place in God’s salvific plan. These points have been so well evidenced by scholars of the radical New

Perspective that I take them for granted in the following pages, while also endeavoring to build upon them. As I will argue in Chapter Four, Paul’s program of moral development is aimed at correcting vicious dispositions and habits that Paul believes arise in part from non-Jews’ ethnic condition. Non-Jews, because of their people’s propensity toward vice, begin their trek toward virtue at a disadvantage to the Jews, and Paul’s program of moral progress is directed toward correcting the base moral condition of non-Jews rather than Jews.

It is possible, and indeed likely, that much of what Paul says about the moral progress of non-Jewish Christ followers also applies to Jews who worship Christ.

However, given that Paul does not seem concerned with addressing the moral plight of the Jewish Christ follower in his letters, I believe that it is nearly impossible to outline with any degree of certainty the program of moral progress that Paul envisions for

either implicitly or explicitly, within the text). See Stowers, Rereading, 21-22, for an explanation of the difference between empirical readers and encoded readers of texts. In protesting against the claim that real Jews were not among the encoded readers of Paul’s letters, scholars will often cite the Jewish interlocutor introduced by Paul in Rom 2:17-29. How can one assert that Paul does not address Jews when he explicitly addresses a Jewish teacher in the first part of his letter to the Romans? In my opinion Stowers, Rereading, 143-158, has made an incredibly persuasive case for interpreting this Jewish teacher as a fictitious interlocutor whom Paul constructs via the ancient technique of προσωποποιία in order to demonstrate the validity of Paul’s views regarding God’s salvific plan for Gentiles.

37 Jewish Christ followers. I have decided, therefore, to leave this topic untouched because it involves much more guesswork and uncertainty than does the reconstruction of

Paul’s program of moral progress for non-Jewish Christ followers. Thus any unqualified reference to “Christ followers” in the pages that follow is a reference to “non-Jewish

Christ followers.”

The terms “Platonism,” “Stoicism,” and “Epicureanism” are analytic categories employed by scholars to emphasize the continuity within certain ancient schools of philosophical thought over many centuries. These analytic categories will be useful and necessary in Chapter Two, where I seek to introduce the reader who is unfamiliar with ancient philosophy to the basic tenets of Stoic, Epicurean, and Middle Platonic ethics.

While I do believe that there is enough continuity between the Greek manifestations of these philosophies and their Roman products to refer, for example, to both Chrysippus’ and Seneca’s brand of philosophy as “Stoicism,”43 such umbrella-like terminology occasionally obscures the important changes that these schools underwent around the

43 Michael Frede, “Epilogue,” in The Cambridge History of Hellenistic Philosophy, ed. K. Algra et al. (New York: Cambridge University Press, 1999), 771, briefly addresses the continuity between the Hellenistic philosophies and their Roman manifestations, but rightfully notes the slightly more disjointed history of Plato’s Academy.

38 turn of the millennium.44 I therefore seek to avoid such obfuscation by consciously and deliberately employing certain terminology. I use the generalizing terms of “Stoicism,”

“Epicureanism,” “Platonism,” and “ancient Mediterranean philosophy” in reference to philosophical doctrines and concepts that appear to remain relatively unchanged from the Hellenistic period (or pre-Hellenistic period, in the case of Platonism) through early

Roman imperial rule. When referring to aspects of these philosophies that are particular to Roman contexts and values, I use the terms “Roman Stoicism,” “Roman

Epicureanism,” and “Middle Platonism.” I will employ the term “Roman philosophy” when referring, in a general manner, to philosophical thought existing from the first century BCE to the sixth-century CE that innovates or expands upon Hellenistic philosophy proper.

44 Frede, “Epilogue,” 772-781, pinpoints the genesis of these crucial changes to the end of the second-century BCE; cf. David Sedley, “Philodemus and the decentralisation of philosophy,” CE 33 (2003), 31-32.

CHAPTER ONE

The Puzzle of Moral Progress in Paul’s Letters

At the start of his essay on How one may become aware of his progress in virtue, the ancient Greek philosopher Plutarch highlights for his readers some of the interpretive issues that he believes prevent a proper understanding of humans’ moral progress.

Plutarch avers:

Those who do not adjust their tenets to fit the facts, but rather try to force the facts into an unnatural agreement with their own assumptions, have filled philosophy with a great number of difficulties, of which the greatest is that which would assign all humans to a general category of badness with the single exception of the absolutely perfect person; the result of which is to make a puzzle out of what we call progress. (75F-76A [Babbitt])

In this passage Plutarch, a native of Chaeronea and devotee of Plato writing around the end of the first century CE, directs his vituperation at contemporary Stoic philosophers:

Plutarch believes that Stoics adhere to incorrect philosophical tenets that prevent them from properly understanding the nature of humans’ moral progress. Yet

Plutarch’s critique also addresses well the interpretive barriers facing scholars today who wish to situate Paul’s program of moral development and differentiation within

40 the broader Mediterranean world of which Paul was a part. Just as Plutarch asserts that the Stoics of antiquity hold certain beliefs which contradict observable facts about humans’ moral progress, so too do many current New Testament scholars make problematic claims about Paul’s thought that prevent them from reconstructing and historically contextualizing Paul’s program of moral development. If we are to solve the puzzle of 1 Cor 2:6-3:4 and reconstruct Paul’s thoughts about virtue acquisition in a way that makes sense of his ideas within ancient Mediterranean culture, then we must begin by identifying such claims and exposing the problematic assumptions and ideologies that drive them. Such is the goal of this chapter.1

1 It is worth noting that this chapter focuses exclusively on the problematic presuppositions and ideological impediments to the study of Paul’s program of moral progress in particular, not the study of Paul’s “ethics” more generally. The latter project is not only beyond the scope of this dissertation, but also has been adequately undertaken by other New Testament scholars seeking to demonstrate the importance and centrality of “ethics” in Paul’s letters. See, for example, Victor Paul Furnish, Theology and Ethics in Paul (Nashville: Abingdon Press, 1968); Wolfgang Schrage, Ethik des Neuen Testaments (Göttigen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1982); John M. G. Barclay, Obeying the Truth: Paul’s Ethics in Galatians (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1988); and Brian S. Rosner, Understanding Paul’s Ethics: Twentieth-Century Approaches (Grand Rapids, Mich.: Wm. B. Eerdmans Publishing Co., 1995). As these scholars point out, New Testament scholars have inherited as part of their conceptual and interpretive frameworks the dichotomies of ethics and theology, reason and faith, virtue and grace, all of which encourage scholars to devalue Paul’s “ethics” as tangential and insignificant when compared with Paul’s theology or his notions about God and Christ. Yet each of these dichotomies originated at particular points in the history of Christian thought, and it is a mistake to uncritically allow them to influence our historical reconstructions of Paul’s thoughts on morality. For the ancient philosophers, and for Paul as well, ethics, theology, reason, faith, virtue, and grace were not easily separable from one another, and New Testament scholars must constantly work to eradicate these dichotomies from their conceptual frameworks if they are to have any hope of

41 There are three main claims made about the content of Paul’s thought that dominate Pauline scholarship and prevent the reconstruction and historical contextualization of his program of moral development. First among these claims is the assertion that Paul is a thorough-going egalitarian who, as such, is opposed to the existence of moral differentiation amongst Christ followers. Second is the assertion that Paul does not conceive of humans as acquiring virtue because he views virtue cultivation as the hubristic act of a pagan. Third is the assertion that Paul’s thoughts on moral progress are best and most productively illuminated through comparison with so-called “Hellenistic Judaism,” which, in the context of studies on 1 Cor 2:6-3:4, most often refers specifically to the Wisdom of Solomon and the writings of Philo of

Alexandria. The first two of these claims regarding Paul’s thought are deeply problematic because they are historically implausible: they portray Paul as a man whose thoughts on moral progress bear little more than superficial resemblance to the views of other ancient Mediterranean intellectuals. The third of these claims – that

“Hellenistic Judaism” is the best comparandum for Paul’s thoughts on morality – is problematic primarily because it prevents a deep historical contextualization of Paul’s thoughts by blinding scholars to Paul’s and ancient non-Jewish philosophers’ shared

reconstructing Paul’s program of moral progress in a way that takes Paul’s historical situation seriously.

42 ideas about moral progress. Thus each of these claims inhibits a historically contextualized reconstruction of Paul’s program of moral development by separating

Paul from the broader Mediterranean culture of which he is a part. Scholars are left with a Paul whose thoughts on moral progress would have made little sense to inhabitants of the ancient Mediterranean, both Jews and non-Jews alike.

In this chapter, then, I pave the way for a historically-informed reconstruction of Paul’s program of moral development by critiquing in turn the aforementioned claims that inhibit the reconstruction and historical contextualization of Paul’s program of moral development. I begin my critique of each claim by describing fully the extent to which each claim inhibits a historically-informed reconstruction of Paul’s program of moral development. I then unveil some of the problematic assumptions and ideologies that contribute to the persistence and dominance of these claims within the field, giving examples of the ways in which these claims inform current New Testament scholars’ work on 1 Cor 2:6-3:4 and Paul’s “ethics” more broadly. Admittedly, there are also several specific exegetical arguments that scholars deploy in support of their faulty claims. Though I will touch upon some of these arguments in this chapter, I address and critique these exegetical arguments more thoroughly in Chapter Five.

43 An Egalitarian Paul

One obstacle to a historically situated redescription of Paul’s program of moral development is the claim, common amongst supporters of the standard interpretation of 1 Cor 2:6-3:4, that Paul is a thoroughgoing egalitarian who envisions all Christ followers as equal to one another in virtue. This asseveration of Paul’s egalitarianism is often framed as a denial of Paul’s elitism. That is, scholars typically declare that Paul’s democratic and egalitarian views would have caused him to roundly reject any notion of hierarchical moral differentiation amongst Christ followers. Implicit in such declarations is the assumption that moral differentiation amongst any group of individuals results in moral elitism.

To better understand the extent to which this claim of Paul’s egalitarianism is embedded in recent New Testament scholarship, and to better understand the ways in which adherence to this claim inhibits the historical contextualization of Paul’s program of moral development, let us briefly examine the works of two prominent and well-respected Pauline scholars: Richard Horsley and Margaret Mitchell. Horsley, in his commentary on 1 Corinthians published in 1998, explicitly refers to Paul’s egalitarianism on multiple occasions, stating that Paul envisions his communities as

“incorporation(s) of diversely gifted and mutually contributing, interdependent, embodied persons” that are “in direct opposition to the dominant aristocratic values

44 and hierarchical order of imperial society.”2 Horsley argues that Paul cannot support the notion of moral differentiation amongst Christ followers because Paul supports egalitarian ideals that are in direct opposition to the dominant social order promoted by the Roman Empire. In 1 Cor 2:6-3:4, then, Horsley argues, Paul does not promote

“spiritual elitism.” Yet how can this be so if Paul explicitly describes a tripartite moral hierarchy of humans in this passage? Horsley cleanses Paul’s thought of the hierarchical schema of moral differentiation of 1 Cor 2:6-3:4 by asserting that Paul’s statements in this passage are “sarcastic.”3 The viability of Horsley’s recourse to sarcasm and irony, which is quite common amongst supporters of the standard interpretation, will be examined and critiqued in Chapter Five. For now I simply wish to point out that Horsley’s assertion of Paul’s egalitarianism serves to deny as part and parcel of Paul’s thought any statement in Paul’s letters that promotes moral differentiation.

2 Horsley, 1 Corinthians, 164-5, 174, 194-196; see p.195 for the quotation. I find this to be an inaccurate definition of “egalitarian,” and one that enables Horsley to have his cake and eat it, too. By claiming that Paul is not egalitarian in the modern sense of the word, Horsley demonstrates that he is sensitive to the anachronism of using a post-Enlightenment concept to describe the thoughts of a first century Mediterranean man. Yet by combining this with his insistence that Paul is more egalitarian than the Roman culture that surrounds him, Horsley pays lip service to the notion that Paul is historically located without taking that historical location seriously. Nevertheless, for the sake of argument I assume the validity of Horsley’s construal of “egalitarianism” here. Cf. Horsley’s arguments in “Paul and Slavery: A Critical Alternative to Recent Readings,” Semeia 83/84 (1998): 153-200.

3 Ibid., 56-63.

45 Mitchell, in her magisterial work on Paul’s use of rhetoric in 1 Cor, also envisions Paul as an egalitarian who rejects the existence of any sort of moral hierarchy amongst Christ followers. Mitchell’s emphasis on Paul’s egalitarianism, however, is not nearly as explicit or pervasive as that of Horsley. Mitchell does not explicitly employ the language of “egalitarianism” in her analysis of 1 Cor, but she does often confuse

Paul’s emphasis on Christ followers’ commonality in the πνεῦμα with an assertion of

Christ followers’ equal spiritual status.4 That is, Mitchell presumes that Paul’s claim that Christ followers possess the same πνεῦμα is tantamount to an assertion of spiritual equality amongst Christ followers. That Mitchell’s claims in this regard might be driven by an assumption of Paul’s egalitarianism seems a definite possibility, particularly given her assertion that Paul is concerned with “the democratization of spiritual gifts against those who see a pecking order of spiritual social status.”5 Mitchell, it seems, like

Horsley, envisions an egalitarian Paul who actively works to counteract pretensions to moral elitism amongst Christ followers.

The portrayal of Paul as an egalitarian who conceives of no moral differentiation amongst Christ followers not only leads to particularly devastating

4 Margaret M. Mitchell, Paul and the Rhetoric of Reconciliation: An Exegetical Investigation of the Language and Composition of 1 Corinthians (Louisville, Kent.: Westminster/John Knox Press, 1991), 268-270.

5 Ibid., 270.

46 misinterpretations of 1 Cor, but also seriously hinders a historically-responsible reconstruction of Paul’s overall program of moral progress. The existence of moral development necessitates the existence of moral differentiation. Persons progressing toward a goal will inevitably begin their journeys toward that goal at different points, and they will inevitably differ in the rate at which they arrive at that goal. One cannot posit the existence of moral development without also positing the existence of moral differentiation amongst any given group of people. Therefore, those scholars who deny that Paul differentiates amongst Christ followers with respect to their virtue not only misinterpret Paul’s statements about moral differentiation amongst Christ followers in

1 Cor 2:6-3:4, but they also entirely misunderstand a critical component of his program of moral progress.

Scholars such as Horsley and Mitchell of course support their portrayal of an egalitarian Paul with specific exegetical arguments, not least among which are Paul’s purported support of social equality throughout his letters, his denunciations of factionalism in 1 Cor, and his emphasis in 1 Cor on the commonality of the πνεῦμα. The validity of these latter two arguments will be critiqued in detail in Chapter Five, but I will briefly address the validity of the first argument here. That Paul envisions the God of Israel as in some way impartial to the ethnic, gender, and social distinctions of his

47 adherents may be true: Paul does, after all, claim that there is no Jew or Greek, no slave or free person, and no male and female in Christ Jesus (Gal 3:28). Yet even this profound asseveration, considered the locus classicus of Paul’s egalitarianism, cannot amount to

Paul’s support of a post-Enlightenment concept of equality. Paul’s statements in Gal

3:28 likely refer to God’s impartial granting of the πνεῦμα to Christ followers, regardless of their ethnic, gender, and social status (rather than to the eradication of ethnic, gender, and social distinctions “in Christ”).6 Indeed, when we take a closer look at Paul’s statements throughout his letters, it becomes clear that hierarchical distinctions between Jews, Greeks, slaves, free people, males, and females figure prominently in Paul’s schema of salvation and moral development. Moreover, as we shall see in Chapter Four, Paul not only assumes that Christ followers will differ from one another with respect to the amount of virtue that they have attained, but he believes that this moral differentiation can in fact be deployed with the purpose of promoting moral progress amongst Christ followers. According to Paul, those Christ followers who are less progressed in virtue are aided in their moral development by those Christ followers who are more advanced in virtue. In the end scholars’ claims

6 See, for example, Stanley K. Stowers, “Paul and Slavery: A Response,” Semeia 83/84 (1998), 303-308.

48 that Paul envisions Christ followers as equal or undifferentiated in their possession of virtue cannot be supported through recourse to Paul’s own letters.

Why, then, has this view of an egalitarian Paul maintained such a grip on scholarly discourse? I would like to suggest that beneath the surface of this portrayal of

Paul as an egalitarian, perhaps on an unconscious level, lurks a potential motivation: the desire to view Christianity as a bastion of modern values. Because Paul’s thought gives rise to the religion that we have come to call Christianity, his purported championing of democratic, modern values such as equality is taken to indicate that

Christianity, from its inception, promoted those ideals that we hold most dear. Of course, this interpretive move is understandable: often, humans want to impute upon revered figures of the past (and upon the early manifestations of world religions in general) those qualities which are most lauded and idealized in modern culture, and equality is certainly one of the preeminent values of the post-Enlightenment world. Yet this view of Paul as a proponent of “equality in virtue” is entirely anachronistic. As supporters of the egalitarian portrayal of Paul themselves note, ancient Mediterranean culture was thoroughly hierarchical in nature: ethnic, religious, sexual, political, and economic inequalities were the conceptual foundations upon which society was built.

“Equality” in the sense of “equity” was an ideal promoted by some ancient

49 philosophers and politicians, but “equality” in the individualist sense of the

Enlightenment would have been unintelligible to the various peoples of antiquity.7

Thus by claiming that Paul is a proponent of thorough and totalizing equality, scholars create a historical enigma: a twenty-first century man living in a first century world, a man whose thoughts are wholly unique in comparison to the views of other ancient

Mediterranean people. This anachronistic portrayal of Paul cannot be allowed to influence examinations of Paul’s thought if we are to understand the way in which

Paul’s program of moral development and differentiation would have been recognizable to inhabitants of the first century Mediterranean.

Allergies to Virtue Acquisition

Equally problematic for the historical contextualization of Paul’s program of moral progress is the palpable discomfort amongst many scholars in describing Paul’s program of moral development as one of “virtue acquisition” or “virtue cultivation.”

Scholars rarely mention “virtue” in discussing Paul’s notion of morality, and references to “virtue acquisition” in studies of Paul’s letters are almost non-existent. Scholars’ unwillingness to apply the category of “virtue acquisition” to Paul’s thought is a major

7 John H. Elliott, “Jesus Was Not an Egalitarian. A Critique of an Anachronistic and Idealist Theory,” Biblical Theology Bulletin: A Journal of Bible and Theology 32 (2002), 76-78; Lawrence M. Wills, “The Depiction of Slavery in the Ancient Novel,” Semeia 83/84 (1998): 114.

50 barrier to the historical contextualization of Paul’s program of moral progress. By failing to understand Paul’s program of moral development as one of virtue acquisition, scholars automatically set Paul apart from the larger Mediterranean world in which he lived. As we shall see in later chapters, moral progress was understood in antiquity as a process that involved the acquisition of virtue, and to deny that Paul’s program of moral progress is one of “virtue acquisition” is to claim that Paul’s views on morality are wholly unique within the ancient Mediterranean.

Scholars often base their reluctance to apply the concept of “virtue acquisition” to Paul’s thought on Paul’s limited deployment of the term “virtue”: Paul only once uses the term his letters (Phil 4:8-9).8 It is wrong to assume, however, that the concept of “virtue” or “virtue acquisition” is tangential to Paul’s thought because he only once uses the term “virtue.” As I shall demonstrate in Chapters Four and Five, the concept of virtue (in the sense of “good and proper dispositions and habits of character,” as I have defined it) is a central and key idea throughout the authentic Pauline epistles. We must conceive of Paul’s program of moral progress in these terms if we are to better

8 Troels Engberg-Pedersen, “Paul, Virtues, and Vices,” in Paul in the Greco-Roman World: A Handbook (ed. J. Paul Sampley; Harrisburg, Penn.: Trinity Press International, 2003): 608-633, notes that scholars often support their reticence to view Paul’s ethics as centered on virtue acquisition by appealing to “evidence” such as Paul’s limited deployment of the term ἀρετή, his (supposedly) conventional use of ancient virtue and vice lists, and his (purported) emphasis on virtues as deriving from God rather than the self. Engberg-Pedersen finely refutes such evidence.

51 understand how inhabitants of the ancient Mediterranean would have recognized, and been attracted to, his views on moral progress.

Reclaiming “virtue acquisition” as an analytic category applicable to Paul’s thought, however, will take more than simply demonstrating that Paul’s single use of the term “virtue” does not indicate his neglect of the concept of virtue acquisition. This is because New Testament scholars’ reluctance to speak of “virtue cultivation” in relation to Paul’s thought is primarily influenced by certain Protestant traditions regarding Paul’s understanding of virtue and grace. 9 Such traditions regard the acquiring of virtue as a thoroughly human endeavor and inherently sinful act that opposes the primacy and totality of God’s grace in the achievements of Christians.

According to these traditions, Paul does not promote virtue acquisition amongst Christ followers because virtue acquisition is, by definition, a vice-motivated act conducted only by pagans. In order to demonstrate the anachronism of these Protestant-informed assumptions, and hence the inadequacy of this approach to Paul’s thought, I now briefly investigate the views of two intellectuals whose thoughts have greatly

9 The problem with the influence of a wide variety of Reformation ideas on modern approaches to Paul’s thought was trenchantly and succinctly noted by Albert Schweitzer, who writes in Paul and his Interpreters: A Critical History (London: Adam and Charles Black, 1912), 2: “What men looked for in Paul’s writings was proof-texts for Lutheran or Reformed theology; and that was what they found. Reformation exegesis reads its own ideas into Paul, in order to receive them back again clothed with Apostolic authority.”

52 influenced current scholars’ reluctance to view Paul’s program of moral progress as one of virtue acquisition. These two figures are Augustine and Martin Luther.

Augustine claims that only Christians are capable of acquiring true virtue (vera virtus). Non-Christians, including non-Christian philosophers, cannot achieve true virtue. Augustine admits that non-Christian philosophers seek virtue and do good things, and he accepts as fundamental to the Christian process of virtue acquisition the basic eudaemonist framework promoted by these philosophers (Civ. 5.13; Contr. Jul.

4.3.21-22, 30). Yet Augustine is firm in claiming that non-Christians, including those who are philosophers, cannot achieve true virtue because their good deeds are not directed to the true good and the true ultimate end (finis), which Augustine defines as eternal life (aeterna vita) and the enjoyment of God (fruitio dei).10 Instead, non-Christians’ pursuit of virtue arises out of their love of glory, praise, and honor, which is ultimately motivated by the vice of pride (superbia). Because this prideful love of self, rather than love of God, drives non-Christians to seek virtue, non-Christians’ “virtue” is actually vice (Civ. 5.12-13, 19.25). Augustine, then, does not deny that Christians can have virtue.

In fact, he asserts that only Christians can have virtue.11

10 Augustine, Civ. 5.12, 19.4; cf. Civ. 19.20 on true wisdom as directed toward this same goal.

11 Two excellent and concise analyses of Augustine’s dismissal of pagan virtue as vice may be found in the appropriate chapters of both Jennifer Herdt’s Putting on Virtue: The Legacy of the

53 Augustine’s denial of pagans’ ability to achieve virtue is in no way representative of early Christian views on the matter. Origen of Alexandria, for example, in his commentary on Paul’s letter to the Romans, claims that some Jews and

Greeks who do not believe in Christ accomplish good deeds and possess the virtues of righteousness, chastity, modesty, and the like. These virtuous non-Christians will not receive eternal life because they do not believe in Christ, but they will receive some measure of praise and reward for their virtue. Thus while Origen may deny that non-

Christians will receive eternal life as a reward for their virtue, he does not deny that non-Christians possess virtue. In fact, he emphatically asserts that non-Christians can possess virtue, and Christians can possess vice (Comm. Rom. 2.7.5-7, 3.3.2). Origen’s view of non-Christian virtue is decidedly different from that of Augustine, but it is

Augustine’s approach that maintains an influential grip on later Christian intellectuals of the Reformation period such as Martin Luther.

Splendid Vices (Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 2008) and Michael Moriarty’s Disguised Vices: Theories of Virtues in Early Modern French Thought (New York: Oxford University Press, 2011). Also instructive is T.H. Irwin’s “Splendid Vices? Augustine For and Against Pagan Virtues,” in Medieval Philosophy and Theology 9 (1999): 105-127, though Irwin himself notes that his attempt to clarify Augustine’s views by using Aquinas’ thoughts as an interpretive lens runs the risk of distorting Augustine’s views (see also Herdt, 363n12, who remarks on this shortcoming). See also Moriarty, 78-81, for slight correctives to Herdt’s and Irwin’s views of Augustine’s thoughts on pagan virtue.

54 Martin Luther crafts an account of Christian moral progress and justification that builds upon Augustine’s ideas but jettisons the eudaemonist framework and emphasis on human agency championed by Augustine (and other ancient

Mediterranean philosophers). For Luther, the problem with non-Christians’ pursuit of virtue lies not in the end toward which this pursuit is directed, as it did for Augustine, but in the very act of pursuit. Without Christ, human attempts to acquire virtue are hopelessly sinful, prideful, and self-oriented; even a person who seeks virtue in order to win God’s praise does so on account of pride.12 Only when a person recognizes and despairs over his utterly depraved, natural condition can he become fully passive and, through God’s grace, allow Christ to pursue virtue for him. After God’s grace justifies a human being, then Christ (who now dwells within the human) may work to cleanse the

12 Terence Irwin, “Luther’s Attack on Self-Love: The Failure of Pagan Virtue,” in Journal of Medieval and Early Modern Studies 42.1 (2012): 131-155, clearly explicates Luther’s position on the inherently sinful and self-oriented nature of human motivations. See in particular pp. 144-148, in which Irwin cites several key passages from Luther on humans’ inability to reject self-love. One particularly instructive passage from Luther’s Lectures on Romans 3:10 runs as follows: “[A human] cannot but seek his own and love himself above everything. This is the sum and substance of all his faults. For this reason, people like this seek themselves in the good they try to accomplish, that is, they wan to please and applaud themselves” [Wilhelm Pauck, ed., Luther: Lectures on Romans (LCC; Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 1961), 89; translation slightly modified].

55 human from sin and aid him in putting on virtue.13 Luther thus rejects the notion that a human’s acquisition of virtue is attributable to anything other than God’s grace.14

Both Augustine and Luther, therefore, read into Paul’s letters ideas about virtue and grace to which Paul himself does not subscribe. Paul (as well as the ancient

Mediterranean philosophers and Augustine, for that matter) would have agreed with

Luther that humans require the help of God in achieving virtue, but, as we shall later see, he did not pit divine agency against human agency in the way that Luther does.

Moreover, nowhere in his letters does Paul state that Christ followers’ moral progress is ultimately motivated by the vices of self-love and pride. In Paul’s one explicit reference to virtue (ἀρετή), in fact, he encourages his Philippian followers to reflect upon and conduct themselves in accordance with virtue (Phil 4:8-9). Paul associates acting ambitiously or loving honor (φιλοτιμεῖσθαι) with proper behavior toward outsiders (1

Thess 4:10-11). He repeatedly talks about virtues such as love, faith, mildness, and self- control as laudable dispositions, nowhere suggesting that a Christ follower’s pursuit of

13 Herdt, Putting on Virtue, devotes an entire chapter to a description and analysis of Luther’s views on the dependence of Christians on Christ and God’s grace in putting on virtue; see in particular pp. 173-184 on humans’ need for God’s grace and pp.184-189 on Luther’s paradoxical assertion that Christ alone, and with the help of the justified human, to aid the human in putting on virtue.

14 John Calvin, a nearly exact historical contemporary of Martin Luther, seems to have held similar views about Christians’ acquisition of virtue and certainly followed Augustine in denying virtue to pagans; see Moriarty, Disguised Vices, 95-97.

56 such virtues is motivated by self-love and pride. Paul certainly rails against human boasting in worldly achievements, but he does not state that the acquisition of virtue and wisdom are motivated by pride. Paul does not have a problem with virtue acquisition because he does not operate with later Augustinian and Lutheran notions of grace, free will, and the utter depravity of humankind.15

Luther’s incredulity over the attribution of agency to Christians in their moral progress informs current, often Protestant, interpreters of Paul’s letters. 16 Two examples will demonstrate the influence of this Lutheran-Protestant discomfort with

15 To ask whether Paul would have affirmed the Augustinian view that non-Christians are incapable of acquiring virtue is to impose upon Paul’s thought an anachronistic category (“non- Christian”). Paul distinguishes not between Christian and non-Christian, but between Jew and non-Jew. Though we will return to this subject in Chapter Four, Paul does indicate that non- Jews cannot become perfectly virtuous without participation in Christ’s πνεῦμα. The natural condition of Gentiles is one characterized by depravity, corrupt emotions, and appetitive desires; only through the reception of the πνεῦμα are non-Jews capable of fully attaining the fruit of the πνεῦμα: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control (Gal 5:22-23). Yet nowhere does Paul indicate that non-Jews who do not participate in Christ are not capable of attaining any virtue at all. And certainly Paul does not claim that the virtue of non-Jews who do not know Christ is actually vice. Rom 2:14 might shed a little light on Paul’s stance in the matter of virtue acquisition by non-Jews who do not know Christ, but I am not convinced that Paul statements here are clear enough to resolve the issue. (Are the non-Jews who do instinctively what the law teaches somehow endowed with Christ’s πνεῦμα? Are they ignorant of Christ entirely? Answers to these questions are not provided by Paul.)

16 Indeed, inheritors of Luther’s thought often exacerbate the contrast in Luther’s thought between the law (human works) and the gospel (faith) such that the typical Lutheran position that dominates the field of New Testament studies does not accurately reflect Luther’s own views on the subject; see Mickey L. Mattox, “Martin Luther’s Reception of Paul,” in A Companion to Paul in the Reformation (BCCT; ed. R. W. Holder; Leiden: Brill, 2009), 97.

57 virtue acquisition on Pauline scholarship and will highlight the barrier that this discomfort poses to the historical contextualization of Paul’s thoughts on moral development. Let us first consider a collective work: The Blackwell Companion to Paul, published in 2011, which is divided into three parts. In the first part, devoted to the historical Paul, virtue is nowhere mentioned in conjunction with Paul’s teachings.

Virtue becomes a topic of study only in the second part of the book, which contains chapters focused on the study of later Pauline interpreters such as Origen, John

Chrysostom, and Augustine. In the third part of the book, devoted to thematically- arranged chapters on Paul’s legacy, the discomfort with virtue acquisition in relation to

Paul becomes most explicit in Gilbert Meilaender’s essay on “Christian Theology:

Ethics.” While it is worth noting that Meilaender’s primary area of study is Christian theology rather than the history of early Christian literature, his comments about

Paul’s ethics nicely illustrate the influence of Augustine and Luther on current understandings of Paul’s thought. In writing about the challenges that Paul’s letters pose to the resurgence of virtue ethics in the field of Christian theology, Meilaender asserts:

The development of such character traits generally requires a discipline of the self: hence, we say that one “cultivates” the virtues. This suggests, however, an attention to the self and, at some point, a kind of confidence in the virtues as one’s possession – all of which fits rather uneasily with

58 the thought of Paul….The life of the believer is less one of progress (“more and more”) than of constant return (“again and again”) to the promise of the gospel….For Paul’s theology of exchange believers are virtuous simply because, even while still sinful, they are covered with Christ’s virtue.17

The influence of Luther here is palpable (and explicitly brought forth by Meilaender himself who closes these statements with a quote from Luther’s treatise on Christian liberty). Like Augustine and Luther, Meilaender associates humans’ cultivation of virtue with self-love and pride; like Luther, he attributes human virtuousness solely to Christ.

Meilaender’s Paul ends up more closely resembling a sixteenth century monk than an inhabitant of the first century Mediterranean.

Another illuminating example of the problems caused by the Lutheran- informed contrast of human virtue and divine grace in approaching Paul’s moral thought is found in the work of John Barclay. It is worth noting that Barclay himself is well aware of the problems that the Lutheran-informed contrast of human works to divine grace poses for the study of Paul’s ethics. In his seminal work on Paul’s ethics in

Galatians, Barclay asserts that the general disregard of the importance of ethics in

Galatians is in part due to the influence of Lutheran theology. According to Barclay, the influence of Lutheran traditions have caused scholars to view Paul’s attacks on “works

17 Gilbert Meilaender, “Christian Theology: Ethics,” in The Blackwell Companion to Paul (ed. Stephen Westerholm; Hoboken, N.J.: Wiley-Blackwell, 2011), 585-586.

59 of the law” as attacks on human effort and achievement, thus making such scholars reluctant to admit that “ethics” (understood as a thoroughly human endeavor) hold a place of prime importance in Paul’s thought. 18 Barclay is careful to emphasize throughout his work the inadequacy of this Lutheran approach to Paul’s ethics:

Justification is not a morally barren doctrine – just as works of the law concern behavior in practical matters, justification by faith in Christ has important moral implications. Those who are justified by faith are obliged to live by faith. But justification by faith is not the only ground of ethics. By appealing to the Galatians’ experience of the Spirit, Paul portrays the Christian life under the rubric of ‘continuing’ or ‘walking’ in the Spirit, whose chief fruit is love.19

Despite his warnings about importing into studies of Paul’s ethics Lutheran-informed notions about the division between human works and divine grace, however, Barclay himself still manages to attribute to Paul the Lutheran-informed contrast between human virtue and divine grace.20 This move enables Barclay to recognize the centrality of ethics for Paul’s thought while still maintaining a basic disjuncture between Paul’s

18 Barclay, Obeying the Truth, 7. Barclay also later notes in “Grace Within and Beyond Reason: Philo and Paul in Dialogue,” in Paul, Grace and Freedom: Essays in Honour of John K. Riches (ed. P. Middleton, A. Paddison, and K. Wenell; New York: T&T Clark, 2009), 20 n.5, that Augustinian or Reformation presumptions about grace have even been wrongly and anachronistically applied to the thought of Philo of Alexandria.

19 Ibid., Obeying the Truth, 223.

20 Ibid., “Grace and the Transformation of Agency in Christ,” in Redefining First-Century Jewish and Christian Identities: Essays in Honor of Ed Parish Sanders (ed. F. Udoh et al.; CJA 16; Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame Press, 2008), 374; see also ibid., “Grace Within and Beyond Reason,” 20; and ibid., Obeying the Truth, 241.

60 thoughts on morality and ancient Hellenistic ethics. According to Barclay, Paul maintains a “radical and absolute disjuncture between divine grace and human worth,” asserting that humans do not earn grace through their own efforts. On the other hand, ancient philosophers such as Philo, claims Barclay, believe that humans earn divine gifts on the basis of their intellect or moral virtue.21 Thus Barclay, though aware of the barriers to historical contextualization posed by Lutheran-informed assumptions, ultimately continues to operate with these very assumptions. In my opinion, this attests to the high degree to which such Lutheran-informed notions are ingrained in modern scholarly discourses on Paul.

This is not to say that all Protestant-informed scholarship reflects Luther’s disdain for virtue acquisition. After all, current Protestant theologians such as Stanley

Hauerwas have engendered a renewed emphasis on virtue acquisition within Christian ethics (though even Hauerwas continues to grapple with a Lutheran understanding of virtue as a gift resulting from grace).22 Moreover, though the Roman Catholic tradition

21 Ibid., “Grace Within and Beyond Reason,” 18.

22 See, for example, Stanley Hauerwas and Charles Pinches, Christians Among the Virtues: Theological Conversations with Ancient and Modern Ethics (Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame Press, 1997). Though Methodist, both Catholic and Protestant intellectual traditions have greatly influenced Hauerwas (William Cavanaugh, “Stan the Man: A Thoroughly Biased Account of a Completely Unobjective Person,” in The Hauerwas Reader (ed. J. Berkman and M. Cartwright; Durham, N.C.: Duke University Press, 2001), 17-32.

61 displays a greater willingness to reconcile divine grace with human pursuit of the virtues, Roman Catholics have not entirely escaped the influence of Lutheran and

Protestant contrasts between humans’ sinful endeavors toward virtue acquisition and

God’s impartation of grace.23 The Lutheran-Protestant perspective described above thus continues to maintain a tight grip on Pauline scholarship, and this often inhibits scholars from understanding Paul’s program of moral progress as an exercise in virtue acquisition. This, in turn, sets Paul’s program of moral progress apart from other programs of virtue cultivation espoused by ancient individuals, thus preventing deep historical contextualization of Paul’s thought.

Scholars’ reluctance to speak of “virtue acquisition” in relation to Paul’s thought, therefore, is at least in part due to the influence of Augustinian and Lutheran theology. This should, at the very least, help us to recognize the need for a reexamination of Paul’s thoughts regarding virtue acquisition. We will later return (in

Chapter Four) to the contrast of divine and human agency and its relation to virtue acquisition in Paul’s letters. For now it must suffice to note that I will write of “virtue acquisition” and “virtue cultivation” in reference to Paul’s program of moral progress.

23 For an example of an attempt by Catholic scholars to reclaim the notion of virtue acquisition for Paul, see Daniel J. Harrington and James F. Keenan, Paul and Virtue Ethics: Building Bridges Between New Testament Studies and Moral Theology (New York: Rowman & Littlefield, 2010), 11.

62 Paul was a first century inhabitant of the Mediterranean who would not have conceived of moral progress as distinct from the cultivation of virtue: to read Augustinian or

Lutheran condemnations of virtue into Paul’s thought results only in anachronism and misrepresentation.

Hellenistic Jewish Myopia

Finally, an influential group of scholars who support the standard interpretation of 1 Cor 2:6-3:4 argue that Paul’s statements in this passage are most closely paralleled in and best illuminated through comparison with “Hellenistic

Judaism.” While these scholars purport to understand “Hellenistic Judaism” as a catch- all, messy category that refers to those ideas and practices shared amongst ancient

Jews of the diaspora (as opposed to Palestinian or rabbinic Jews), in reality these scholars typically reconstruct “Hellenistic Judaism” solely through recourse to the

Wisdom of Solomon and the writings of Philo of Alexandria.24 In my estimation, this focus on “Hellenistic Jewish” ideas, in and of itself, is not particularly problematic.

Indeed, as will become clear in Chapters Three, Four, and Five, the works of Philo of

24 See, for example, Pearson’s and Horsley’s myopic focus on Philo and the Wisdom of Solomon as constitutive of “Hellenistic Diaspora-Judaism” and “Hellenistic Jewish theology” (Pearson, Pneumatikos-Psychikos Terminology, 17-23; Horsley, “Spiritual Elitism,” 207, 212-13, 224, 229); cf. Thompson, Moral Formation, 19-42, who casts his net a bit more widely, looking not only to Philo and the Wisdom of Solomon, but also to Josephus, 4 Macc, Tobit, and other works in reconstructing “Hellenistic Jewish” ethics.

63 Alexandria are some of the best comparanda for Paul’s claims about moral progress, particularly as Paul expresses them in 1 Cor 2:6-3:4. Certainly, there exist more terminological and conceptual parallels between Paul’s language of moral differentiation and that of Philo than that of any other ancient philosopher.25 This is undoubtedly the result of Philo’s and Paul’s shared interest in Jewish scripture: Philo, unlike non-Jewish philosophers of the ancient Mediterranean, competently explicates his thoughts on moral progress through recourse to texts considered sacred and authoritative by Jews such as Paul. Reading Philo alongside Paul therefore brings into greater relief much of what Paul is doing.

Scholars’ focus on “Hellenistic Jewish” comparanda to Paul’s thought is problematic, however, in the sense that such an approach is often accompanied and driven by a devaluing of the utility of non-Jewish philosophical parallels for illuminating Paul’s thought.26 Though some scholars choose to concentrate solely on the “Hellenistic Jewish” parallels to Paul’s thought because they simply wish to highlight particular similarities between Paul’s thought and that of Philo, other

25 Horsley, “Spiritual Elitism,” 207.

26 Some scholars, of course, have forcefully argued for the influence of Stoicism and Platonism on Paul’s thought in 1 Cor 2:6-3:4; I will engage with these views in the following chapters. Cf. Engberg-Pedersen, Paul and the Stoics; ibid., Cosmology and Self; van Kooten, Paul’s Anthropology; and Tim Brookins, “The Wise Corinthians: Their Stoic Education and Outlook,” JTS 62.1 (April 2011): 51-76.

64 scholars quite explicitly justify their intense concentration on “Hellenistic Judaism” by pointing out that Paul’s statements in 1 Cor 2:6-3:4 and elsewhere possess little more than superficial similarity with the ethical frameworks and concepts promoted by non-

Jewish philosophers of the ancient Mediterranean. As we shall see in later chapters, not only do Paul’s thoughts on moral progress have many significant and deep similarities with the thoughts of non-Jewish philosophers, but there are certain aspects of Paul’s thought that make better sense when compared with non-Jewish Hellenistic philosophers (as opposed to Philo).

The myopic focus on “Hellenistic Jewish” comparanda that pervades scholarship on 1 Cor 2:6-3:4 within the past generation is in part the result of Birger Pearson’s influential monograph on the πνευματικός-ψυχικός terminology of 1 Cor, published in

1973.27 In this work Pearson argues that the language of the πνευματικός and the

ψυχικός in 1 Cor 1-3, 12-14, and 15 derives from “Hellenistic Jewish exegesis” of Gen 2:7 rather than “Gnostic” thought.28 The works of Philo of Alexandria and the Wisdom of

27 Pearson’s monograph, Pneumatikos-Psychikos Terminology, has greatly influenced other scholars, such as Horsley, Sellin, Davis, and Sterling, in their studies of 1 Cor 2:6-3:4; see n.7 in the Introduction to this dissertation. However, as Winter, Pneumatiker und Psychiker, 51-55, notes, arguments in support of Hellenistic Judaism as the primary referent for the terminology of 1 Cor 2:6-3:4 already existed in German scholarship of the 1960s.

28 In the third quarter of the twentieth century the dominant scholarly theory regarding the impetus behind Paul’s penning of 1 Cor was that Paul wrote his letter in refutation of

65 Solomon exemplify such “Hellenistic Jewish exegesis,” according to Pearson.29 Pearson, as a supporter of what I have called the standard interpretation of 1 Cor 2:6-3:4, also claims that the Corinthians introduced the πνευματικός-ψυχικός terminology to Paul.

That is, the Corinthians derived their πνευματικός-ψυχικός terminology from

“Hellenistic-Jewish exegesis” of Gen 2:7 and, in turn, introduced this terminology to

Paul. Paul then appropriated the Corinthians’ terminology in order to express his own views in 1 Cor 2:6-3:4.30

A few of Pearson’s key arguments are commendable and convincing, particularly his claim that the closest comparandum for the πνευματικός-ψυχικός terminology of 1 Cor may be found in the thought of Philo of Alexandria.31 Yet

Gnostic (or “gnostic”) opponents in Corinth. See, for example, Walter Schmithals, Gnosticism in Corinth: An Investigation of the Letters of the Corinthians (trans. by John E. Steely; New York: Abingdon Press, 1971); and Ulrich Wilckens, Weisheit und Torheit: Eine exegetische- religionsgeschichtliche Untersuchung zu 1. Kor. 1 und 2 (BHT 26; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1959). Pearson works to refute the “Gnostic opponents” theory, claiming instead that Paul’s Corinthian opponents are influenced by “Hellenistic-Jewish wisdom speculation” or “Hellenistic-Jewish speculative mysticism.”

29 On such “Hellenistic-Jewish exegesis” of Gen 2:7, see Pearson, Pneumatikos-Psychikos Terminology, 17-21. At the end of his monograph, Pearson further specifies this brand of Hellenistic Jewish exegesis as “Hellenistic-Jewish wisdom speculation” or “Hellenistic-Jewish speculative mysticism” (82). 30 Ibid., 30-31.

31 Also notable is Pearson’s refutation of the theory that Paul’s Corinthian opponents were Gnostics. Pearson hits the nail on the head, for example, when he states: “It is not justifiable to

66 Pearson’s work misses the mark in a few crucial ways, and these inadequacies are typical of those approaches that focus on the “Hellenistic Jewish” parallels to Paul’s thought at the expense of investigating parallels drawn from non-Jewish philosophical sources. I will begin by first highlighting some of the problematic assumptions and methodologies that undergird Pearson’s work, and I will then move to discussing the problematic ideologies that likely motivate such assumptions and methodologies.

On a methodological level, Pearson’s use of Philo of Alexandria’s thought and the Wisdom of Solomon to constitute some broad category of “Hellenistic Jewish exegesis” is quite problematic. Scholars should not posit the existence of a general

“Hellenistic Jewish” exegetical tradition when the works of one or two thinkers constitute our only evidence for this tradition. Rather than using the term “Hellenistic

Jewish exegesis” to refer to the Wisdom of Solomon and the writings of Philo, scholars should instead refer specifically to the thoughts of Philo of Alexandria or the Wisdom of Solomon.32 Another problematic methodological aspect of Pearson’s approach to the

argue that since the term ψυχικός occurs in gnostic texts it is therefore a gnostic term, and that therefore it is used in a “gnostic” way in 1 Corinthians” (9).

32 Toward the end of his monograph, Pearson, 82, attempts to refine his category of “Hellenistic Jewish exegesis,” stating that the πνευματικός-ψυχικός terminology arises in the context of “Hellenistic Jewish wisdom speculation” or “Hellenistic Jewish speculative mysticism.” I find even these categories to be too broad if the only evidence used to limn their boundaries is that of Philo and the Wisdom of Solomon.

67 study of 1 Cor 2:6-3:4 is Pearson’s myopic search for terminological parallels between

Paul’s thought and other ancient texts. Because it is possible that two thinkers express similar ideas using different terms, it is irresponsible to limit one’s search to terminological parallels at the expense of identifying conceptual parallels. Moreover, because it is possible that two thinkers use the same term to refer to different ideas, it is wrong to assume that terminological parallels indicate shared meanings.

Pearson’s focus on the comparison of Paul’s statements in 1 Cor 2:6-3:4 with

“Hellenistic Jewish exegesis” is also particularly problematic because it wrongly portrays “Hellenistic Judaism” (in this case, the thoughts presented in the Wisdom of

Solomon and the writings of Philo) as completely separate from or opposed to the wider analytical category of ancient Mediterranean philosophy.33 Certainly, Philo’s writing is distinguishable from that of other ancient Mediterranean philosophers because of his adherence to the God of Israel and his privileging of Jewish scripture. But this distinction should not serve to isolate Philo’s thought as somehow completely unique in comparison with ancient Mediterranean philosophy, or as easily separable

33 Pearson does not explicitly state this in his monograph, but he certainly operates with the assumption that “Hellenistic Judaism” is separable from Hellenistic philosophy more broadly. For instance, Pearson, 38-39, finds it highly unlikely that Paul coined a particular expression because the phrase is “thoroughly Greek in its intent.” And in searching for parallels to Paul’s use of the πνευματικός-ψυχικός contrast, Pearson, 7, asserts that, though both terms are used in Greek literature, their usage in such Hellenistic thought bears little or no relation to the meaning that they carry in Paul’s writings.

68 from it. Rather, an acknowledgement of the distinctive features of Philo’s thought

(when compared with the thought of non-Jewish philosophers) must be accompanied by an acknowledgment that Philo’s thought is a particular subset of ancient

Mediterranean philosophy more broadly, or has substantial and significant overlap with non-Jewish ancient Mediterranean philosophy.

In other words, Pearson’s emphasis on “Hellenistic Judaism” is problematic because it is a totalizing discourse. It serves to reinforce the notion of a “Hellenism-

Judaism” divide that has long been considered deeply problematic for the study of ancient Judaism and early Christianity. Though supporters of this approach attempt to avoid this conceptual divide between “Hellenism” and “Judaism” by referring to Philo and the author(s) of the Wisdom of Solomon as “Hellenistic Jews,” the fact that these supporters still view “Hellenistic Judaism” as somehow thoroughly distinct from, rather than as a subset of, “ancient Mediterranean philosophy” serves to reinforce the conceptual divide that they so earnestly attempt to avoid. That is, opposing “Hellenistic

Judaism” to “Hellenism” is simply another reframing of the “Hellenism-Judaism” divide. Hellenistic Jews such as Philo of Alexandria are part of the broader Hellenistic world and share ideas about moral progress with non-Jews; thus we must highlight the parallels between Paul’s program of moral progress and the ethical systems of ancient

69 philosophers more broadly if we are to have any hope of understanding the ways in which the programs of moral development espoused by Jews such as Philo and Paul would have been intelligible, recognizable, and perhaps even attractive to non-Jews.

The persistent tendency amongst current New Testament scholars to situate the terminology and language of 1 Cor 2:6-3:4 solely within the matrix of “Hellenistic

Jewish” philosophical ideas, ignoring the place of these “Hellenistic Jewish” philosophical ideas in the broader landscape of ancient Mediterranean philosophy, is due to a confluence of problematic ideological factors to which I can only gesture here.

To begin with, Pearson’s (and others’) search for terminological parallels to Paul’s thought prematurely limits potential comparanda to “Hellenistic Jewish” or Jewish texts, serving to portray Paul as a man untainted by Hellenistic, “pagan” culture.

Jonathan Z. Smith details and critiques New Testament scholars’ myopic focus on linguistic parallels to Paul’s thought, noting that New Testament scholars’ emphasis on terminological parallels at the expense of conceptual parallels has served as a protective stratagem.34 As Smith writes regarding scholars’ assertions that Paul’s

“mystery” language is best paralleled in the texts of the Septuagint (which is here the stand-in for “Hellenistic Judaism”):

34 Jonathan Z. Smith, Drudgery Divine: On the Comparison of Early Christianities and the Religions of Late Antiquity (Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 1990), 76-84.

70 Philology has served as a stratagem. The central task has been the protection of the uniqueness of early Christianity, its sui generis, or non- derivative nature. For some, the appeal to lexicographical studies of the presumed Semitic background of the notion of ‘mystery’ has simply enabled them to sweep from view the spectre of Hellenistic influence to such a degree that it disappears entirely from the scene….Thus the issue of comparing words, as we have traced out its history, has never been primarily a philological issue, but always an apologetic one.35

Pearson’s (and other scholars’) focus on the terminological parallels between Paul’s statements in 1 Cor 2:6-3:4 and Philo’s thought, therefore, is not only problematic on a methodological level, but on an ideological one as well.

But why does this emphasis on Paul’s uniqueness within the ancient

Mediterranean world manifest itself in particular in the positing of a separation between Paul’s thought and that of Hellenistic philosophy? I think it possible that the answer to this question lies partially in the widespread influence of one particular

Christian theological movement of the twentieth-century: Neo-Orthodoxy. Neo-

Orthodoxy (also referred to as dialectical theology) arose as a reaction to liberalism and progressivism in the aftermath of the World Wars. The works of intellectuals such as

Karl Barth, Emil Brunner, and Rudolf Bultmann are considered representatives of this school of thought. The Neo-Orthodox movement not only disparages natural theology, positing an unavoidable tension between divine revelation and human reason, but also

35 Ibid., 79-80, 83.

71 views the relationship between philosophy and theology as one of antagonism.36 Thus it is possible that the influence of Neo-Orthodoxy on current New Testament scholarship has contributed to scholars’ reluctance to take seriously the substantial similarities between Paul’s thought and ancient Mediterranean philosophy more broadly: if Paul’s thought is shown to have any substantial similarities to ancient philosophy, then the irreducible and antagonistic division between philosophy/reason and theology/revelation posited by dialectic theologians begins to break down.37

Numerous anachronistic assumptions, traditions of interpretation, ideologies, and methodologies have thus thwarted a historically-situated reconstruction of Paul’s program of moral development and differentiation. The application of post-

Enlightenment ideals such as egalitarianism to Paul’s thought, the imposition of

Lutheran-informed notions of virtue acquisition onto the study of Paul’s thought, and the influence of twentieth-century theological concerns regarding Paul’s relationship

36 For concise overviews of Neo-Orthodoxy, dialectical theology, and their relationship to the historical events of the twentieth-century, see Gregory Baum, ed., The Twentieth Century: A Theological Overview (Maryknoll, N.Y.: Orbis Books, 1999); Douglas John Hall, “Neo-Orthodoxy,” CDCT; and Christophe Chalamet, “Dialectical Theology,” CDCT.

37 For more on the impact of twentieth-century historical events and their relation to the Hellenism-Judaism divide, see Troels Engberg-Pedersen, “Introduction,” in Paul and His Hellenistic Context (ed. T. Engberg-Pedersen; New York: T&T Clark, 1994), xviii; and Dale B. Martin, “Paul and the Judaism/Hellenism Dichotomy: Toward a Social History of the Question,” in Paul Beyond the Judaism/Hellenism Divide (ed. T. Engberg-Pedersen; Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2001), 52.

72 to “Judaism” and “Hellenism” are foremost amongst the ideological factors that have contributed to the promotion of anachronistic interpretations of Paul’s program of moral development. In the chapters that follow, I seek to counter these interpretations and illuminate the ways in which Paul’s program of moral development would have been recognizable to inhabitants of the ancient Mediterranean, both Jewish and non-

Jewish, who were acquainted with popular philosophical concepts of the day. To this end I provide a detailed, critical comparison of Paul’s thoughts on moral development with ancient philosophical ethics. In order to conduct such a critical analysis, the reader must first become well-informed with the systems of moral progress promoted by the three major philosophical schools of Paul’s day: Stoicism, Epicureanism, and

Middle Platonism. It is to this topic that I now turn.

CHAPTER TWO

Theories of Virtue Cultivation in Ancient Mediterranean Philosophy

In ancient Greece and Rome the primary purveyors of theories regarding moral progress were philosophers. Around the turn of the millennium, and during Paul’s lifetime in the first century CE, those sages whose notions of moral progress proved most popular within broader Mediterranean culture hailed from three major philosophical schools: Stoicism, Epicureanism, and so-called Middle Platonism.1 In this chapter I outline, in broad strokes, the systems of moral progress constructed by these three schools from their respective beginnings through the advent of Roman imperial

1 Following John Dillon, The Middle Platonists: 80 B.C. to A.D. 220 (revised ed. with afterword; Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1996), I employ the term “Middle Platonism” in referring to that period of Platonism beginning with Antiochus of Ascalon in the first century BCE and ending with Plotinus’ arrival on the philosophical scene in the mid-third century CE. Though the Platonists typically taken to belong to this period (Antiochus, Eudorus, Philo of Alexandria, Plutarch, Alcionus, Albinus, Apuleius, and the Anonymous Commentator on the Theaetetus) do not call themselves Middle Platonists, and though they do not all espouse identical doctrines, these philosophers do share amongst themselves a modicum of ideas sufficient to delineate them as constituting a particular subset of Platonist thought. I focus my examination on Middle Platonism (rather than Platonism more generally) because, unlike Stoicism and Epicureanism, there exists such a massive ideological rupture in Platonism between the Skeptical Academy and Middle Platonism that I feel wholly unjustified in speaking broadly of a Platonist system of moral progress. For more regarding scholarly uses of the term “Middle Platonism,” see Julia Annas, Platonic Ethics, Old and New (Cornell Studies in Classical Philology 57; Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1999), 1-7; and Dillon, Middle Platonists, 422-423.

74 rule.2 I describe each school’s ethical goal, the steps that must be taken in order to achieve this goal, and the levels of moral differentiation that exist within these programs of moral development. I also focus on several areas of dispute between the philosophical schools regarding moral progress, including the meaning of “happiness,” humans’ natural inclinations toward virtue, the role of reason in attaining happiness, the danger that corrupt emotions present to the progressing moral agent, and the effect of social interactions on humans’ progress toward happiness.

My comprehensive treatment of Stoicism, Epicureanism, and Middle Platonism in this chapter should not be taken to imply all philosophers within a given philosophical school promoted identical programs of moral progress. Certainly, views regarding the practical application of standardized ethical theories varied amongst members of any given philosophical school. Yet Stoic and Epicurean ethical theory displays enough continuity and stability throughout the Hellenistic and Roman periods that it is possible to write of general Stoic or Epicurean theories while admitting slight variations within the traditions. Even the ethical theories of Middle Platonists, which are less systematic than those of their Stoic and Epicurean contemporaries, display

2 An analysis of Peripateticism will not be pursued in this dissertation because, though many of the doctrines and tenets of Aristotle were absorbed by Stoics and Platonists of the first century CE, Peripateticism as a unified tradition did not exert much influence over the philosophical scene during Paul’s time; Frede, “Epilogue,” 772-776.

75 enough continuity that one can reconstruct a generalized notion of Middle Platonist moral progress. My choice to emphasize synthesis and coherence in describing the landscape of ancient Mediterranean philosophy in this chapter is meant to provide for the reader uneducated in ancient Mediterranean philosophy a foundation for my arguments in Chapters Three and Four regarding the ways in which Philo of

Alexandria, Seneca the Younger, Plutarch of Chaeronea, and, ultimately, Paul draw upon standardized philosophical concepts and theories in explicating their programs of moral progress.

The Basics: Shared Assumptions about Moral Progress

Though ancient Mediterranean sages embark upon decidedly different paths in their moral journeys, Stoics, Epicureans, and Middle Platonists hold in common several basic assumptions with regard to the terrain that they traverse. To begin with, philosophers from these three schools assert that the goal of life is happiness – a goal so simply stated and so ubiquitously desired that many people in today’s world would not object to its pursuit.3 Yet inherent in this simple goal is a fundamental fluidity, for happiness may be defined in myriad ways. For example, I concur with the ancient

3 In fact, the only Hellenistic philosophers to deny this fundamental premise were the Cyrenaics. For an analysis of the eudaemonist ethics of Hellenistic philosophies, as well as the Cyrenaic outliers, see Julia Annas, The Morality of Happiness (New York: Oxford University Press, 1993).

76 philosophers that the goal of my life is happiness, but I currently define happiness as submitting this dissertation. Stoic philosophers, on the other hand, claim that happiness results from living in accordance with nature, and they affirm that the most laudable aspect of this nature is humans’ ability to reason. Epicurean sages achieve happiness by pursuing a painless existence, and Middle Platonists aver that happiness is achieved when one becomes like God. Stoic, Epicurean, and Middle Platonic theories thus all affirm that happiness is the ultimate goal of life, but these schools offer varying and conflicting definitions of the exact nature of this happiness.

Stoics, Epicureans, and Middle Platonists also agree that happiness is not brought about with a quick snap of the fingers or twitch of the nose: happiness is achieved gradually and incrementally after much toil and training, at least in the overwhelming majority of instances. Moreover, because ancient Mediterranean philosophers believe that progress toward happiness is gradual, they are also unanimous in claiming that humans differ from one another with respect to their proximity to happiness. Some humans are closer to happiness than others, and some humans advance more quickly toward happiness than others.4

4 It is worth noting, however, that while Stoics, Epicureans, and Middle Platonists agree that the road to happiness is a long and gradual one, they disagree over the moment at which virtue is attained. As we will examine later in this chapter, Epicureans and Middle Platonists agree that humans gradually progress in virtue. The Stoics, however, famously assert that

77 Stoics, Epicureans, and Middle Platonists also agree that humans’ gradual and incremental progress toward happiness requires the acquisition of virtue. That is, they conceive of development toward happiness as moral in nature. The possession of virtue is a necessary condition for the attainment of happiness according to philosophers, but ancient sages debate whether virtue is a sufficient condition for the attainment of happiness, and whether virtue is intrinsically good or desirable.5 Additionally, Stoics,

Epicureans, and Middle Platonists hold many views in common regarding the nature of virtue itself. Stoics, Epicureans, and Middle Platonists generally agree that the virtues are good dispositions or habits of character that are unified, affective, and intellectual.

To possess one virtue fully is to possess all virtues, and possessing virtue requires that one enjoy and understand the reasons behind one’s virtuous actions.6 With respect to

humans gradually progress toward virtue. Each progressing person is vicious, claim the Stoics, and only in an instant, as a progressing person becomes a Stoic sage, is this human’s vice eradicated and virtue attained.

5 Certainly the Stoics agree that the acquisition of virtue is a necessary and sufficient for the attainment of happiness, but Epicurean and Middle Platonic doctrines on this matter are far more complicated. For brief discussions of the relationships between happiness and virtue in Hellenistic philosophy, see Annas, The Morality of Happiness, 426-436, though many scholars rightfully fault Annas for misrepresenting certain aspects of the relationship between virtue and happiness in Stoicism and Epicureanism. See, for example, Inwood, review of The Morality of Happiness, 647-665.

6 Admittedly, Stoic theory may emphasize the unity of the virtues more than does Epicurean theory. Compare, for example, Stobaeus, Ecl. 2.63.6-24 (LS 61D) and Epicurus, Ep. Men. 127-132 (LS 21B). References to passages from ancient authors that are amongst those compiled

78 the level of importance which reason occupies in the process of virtue acquisition, however, there are slight disagreements amongst the Stoic, Epicurean, and Middle

Platonist schools of thought. For Stoics virtue is consistent, firm, and unchangeable reason (Plutarch, Virt. mor. 440E-441D [LS 61B]). For Epicureans and Middle Platonists, however, the acquisition of virtue involves the possession of reason and the proper functioning of non-rational aspects of the soul.7 The exact differences between these schools’ views on the relationship between virtue and reason will become more clear as we proceed in our analysis. For now it suffices to note that all Stoics, Epicureans, and

Middle Platonists consider epistemological progress to be intimately tied to moral progress.

Lastly, a few brief words are needed regarding ancient Mediterranean philosophers’ views on the ability of women to achieve virtue. The views of ancient

Stoics, Epicureans, and Middle Platonists on the ability and capacity of women to attain virtue vary widely, and I cannot hope to investigate this topic with due diligence in the context of this dissertation. However, I do think it possible to make a few general

in A. A. Long and D. N. Sedley, The Hellenistic Philosophers (2 vols.; New York: Cambridge University Press, 1987) will henceforth be accompanied, in parentheses, by the corresponding reference in Long and Sedley (hereafter LS).

7 On the role of reason and wisdom in virtue acquisition amongst Platonists, see Annas, Platonic Ethics, 117-136.

79 statements about ancient philosophers’ approaches to the topic of women’s moral development. To begin, women philosophers did indeed exist in ancient Greece and

Rome. Epicureans counted women among their adherents (Diogenes Laertius 10.25;

Plutarch, Lat. viv. 1129A); wise women were also amongst the associates of Pythagoras and Socrates.8 Moreover, many male philosophers in antiquity assert that women possess the same potential for virtue as do men. Plato and the Stoic Zeno of Citium include in their ideal republics wise women (Plato, Resp. 451C-457C; Diogenes Laertius

7.32-34); the first-century CE Stoics Seneca the Younger and Musonius Rufus proclaim that women’s potential for virtue is equal to that of men (Seneca, Marc. 16.1; Stobaeus,

Ecl. 2.31.126).9 Yet, some of these very same philosophers also claim that women, because of their natural constitutions, are less likely than men to achieve great virtue

(Plato, Resp. 540C; Seneca, Marc. 7.3; cf. Philodemus, Lib. col XXIb). As Elizabeth Asmis notes in her examination of Stoic views on women’s potential for moral development,

8 Joan E. Taylor, Women Philosophers of First-Century Alexandria: Philo’s ‘Therapeutae’ Reconsidered (New York: Oxford University Press, 2003), 173-213, collates literary evidence for the existence of women philosophers amongst Platonists, Cynics, Epicureans, and Pythagoreans.

9 Stobaeus, Ecl. 2.31.126, preserves Musonius Rufus’s third lecture, on the notion that women should study philosophy. Gretchen Reydams-Schils, The Roman Stoics: Self, Responsibility, and Affection (Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 2005), 153-4, 167-9, discusses and contrasts the views of Seneca and Musonius Rufus on women’s ability to acquire virtue.

80 then, “Theoretical openmindedness is not safe against entrenched attitudes.”10 Though many ancient philosophers argue, against the dominant gender ideologies of their day, that women could and did attain great virtue, such philosophers were not immune to the influence of their own culture’s attitudes regarding the weakness and imperfection of the female sex and gender.11 In this chapter and the next, therefore, I adhere to the following guidelines with regard to my use of gendered and gender-neutral nouns and pronouns. I refer to “wise humans” or “sages” rather than “wise men” in order to highlight ancient philosophers’ insistence on women’s ability to progress in virtue.

When gendered pronouns are necessary, however, I will typically use male pronouns in order to highlight the fact that, in many of their moral prescriptions (such as those regarding sexual ethics), ancient philosophers presume the moral agent to be male.

10 Elizabeth Asmis, “The Stoics on Women,” in Feminism and Ancient Philosophy (ed. J. K. Ward; New York: Routledge, 1996), 88.

11 As Taylor, Women Philosophers, 213-226, demonstrates, (male) philosophers’ attempts to reconcile women’s gender with women’s virtue results in the creation of several popular paradigms of women philosophers in the ancient literature: woman as sexual partner (“sexy babe”), woman as comic character (“stupid cow”), woman as agent of inclusivity (“even a woman can do it”), woman as honorary male (“one of the guys”), woman as bearer of secret knowledge (“woman’s stuff”), woman as model of virtue (“just a housewife”), and bad woman (“stuck-up bitch”).

81 Stoic Moral Progress: Reasoned Virtue

Stoics, from the Hellenistic age through the Roman imperial period, describe happiness as living in accordance with nature.12 In detailing the path leading toward this ultimate end, however, Stoics operate with a conception of nature that is quite different from what we might imagine. While we might assume a natural life to entail withdrawal to a hippie commune in the San Juan Islands or the austere solitude of

Henry David Thoreau’s Walden Pond, the Stoics imagine the natural life to involve conducting oneself in accordance with reason. Nature, whom the Stoics also equate with God, imparted the gift of reason to humans alone. Reason is the most distinctive and natural characteristic of humans, and it enables humans to purposefully and consistently choose a life of virtue. Thus for Stoics the command to live according to nature is, more precisely, an exhortation to a virtuous life achieved through the exercise of perfect reason (Seneca, Ep. 76.9-10 [LS 63D]).13

The Stoics recognize as part of the praiseworthy natural life practices necessary for survival: sleeping, eating, procreating, and finding shelter. Yet the Stoics maintain that the exercise of reason in the service of virtue ultimately trumps such primary,

12 This ultimate end is also described as “a life according to virtue,” “living in agreement,” “a smooth flow of life,” and “living well”; see Diogenes Laertius 7.87 (LS 63C); Stobaeus, Ecl. 2.75.11-76.8 (LS 63B), 2.77.16-78.6 (2.77.16-27 = LS 63A).

13 Cf. Stobaeus, Ecl. 2.62.

82 human functions. Meeting basic, human needs marks the beginning of a Stoic’s journey toward happiness, while living a life in full accordance with the reason naturally belonging to humans is the culmination of this journey. The relationship between these two aspects of the natural life – those practices necessary for survival and those practices in accordance with reason – is described in detail by Cicero’s Stoic mouthpiece, Cato, in Fin. 3.20-22, 23. 14 Though long, the passage is well worth reproducing, for it is one of our fullest accounts of the Stoic theory of moral development:

The initial “appropriate action” (this is what I call the Greek kathêkon) is to preserve oneself in one’s natural constitution. The next is to take what is in accordance with nature and reject its opposite. Once this method of selection (and likewise rejection) has been discovered, selection then goes hand in hand with appropriate action. Then such selection becomes continuous, and finally, stable and in agreement with nature. At this point that which can truly be said to be good first appears and is recognized for what it is.

14 Of course Cicero himself was no Stoic. Rather, Cicero analyzes Stoic doctrine as an adherent of Academic Skepticism. Current consensus holds that Cicero, following his introduction to Philo of Larissa in the 80s BCE, affiliated himself with the Skeptical Academy (otherwise known as the New Academy). For a convincing argument regarding Cicero’s continued allegiance to the Skeptical Academy, see Woldemar Görler, “Silencing the Troublemaker: De Legibus 1.39 and the Continuity of Cicero’s Scepticism,” in Cicero the Philosopher: Twelve Papers (ed. J. G. F. Powell; New York: Clarendon Press, 1995), 85-113. Cf. John Glucker, “Cicero’s philosophical affiliations,” in The Question of “Eclecticism”: Studies in Later Greek Philosophy (ed. John M. Dillon and A. A. Long; Berkeley: University of California Press, 1988), 34- 69, who asserts that Cicero twice changed his philosophical affiliation: after once switching his allegiance from the Academic Skepticism of Philo to the Old Academy championed by Antiochus of Ascalon, he returned to supporting Philo’s New Academy.

83 A human being’s earliest concern is for what is in accordance with nature. But as soon as one has gained some understanding, or rather “conception” (what the Stoics call ennoia), and sees an order and as it were concordance in the things which one ought to do, one then values that concordance much more highly than those first objects of affection. Hence through learning and reason one concludes that this is the place to find the supreme human good, that good which is to be praised and sought on its own account. This good lies in what the Stoics call homologia. Let us use the term “consistency,” if you approve. Herein lies that good, namely moral action and morality itself, at which everything else ought to be directed. Though it is a later development, it is none the less the only thing to be sought in virtue of its own power and worth, whereas none of the primary objects of nature is to be sought on its own account. What I have called “appropriate actions” originate from nature’s starting-points, and so the former must be directed towards the latter. Thus it may rightly be said that all appropriate actions are aimed at our attaining the natural principles. It does not mean, however, that this attainment is our ultimate good, since moral action is not included among our original natural attachments. Rather, such action is a consequence and a later development, as I said. But it too is in accordance with nature and, to a far greater extent than all the earlier objects, stimulates our pursuit. …Since all appropriate actions originate from the natural principles, so too must wisdom itself. Now it often happens that when one is introduced to someone, one comes to value that person more highly than does the person who made the introduction. Similarly it is the starting-points of nature which first introduce us to wisdom, but it is no surprise that we then come to cherish wisdom herself far more than we do those objects by which we came to her. (Woolf)15

As Cicero’s Cato avers, a human initially performs basic, natural acts for the sake of self- preservation. A child eats because he needs energy to stay alive, he sleeps because

15 Translations are my own, unless otherwise noted.

84 without rest he will perish. As this child matures and develops his rational capacity, he becomes capable of selecting goods that are in accordance with his natural reason: he learns that he must not value sleep for sleep’s sake, but prize only whatever sleep is necessary in order to achieve the good. The starting-points of nature, such as sleeping and eating, serve to introduce humans to the end-points of nature, which are wisdom and right reason.

Cicero’s explanation of this shift in priority from natural self-preservation to the natural exercise of reason is one of our fullest accounts of the Stoic theory of moral progress (προκοπή).16 The sketch that Cicero provides in this passage, however, hardly amounts to a detailed blueprint of Stoic moral development. Cicero’s Cato speaks of markers of moral development such as selection, rejection, appropriate action, reasoning, and agreement, but the exact mechanics of moral progress remain difficult to discern. A more thorough excavation of this Ciceronian passage, and thus a tighter

16 Προκοπή (“progress”) and the related προκοπτῶν (“the one progressing”) are technical philosophical terms that are primarily associated with Stoic ethical theory. Despite the association of the term προκοπή with Stoicism, however, philosophers from other philosophical schools also employ the term in their discussions of moral progress. See Lydia Lake Haber, “Prokope: Stoic Views on Moral Progress in the Context of Psychological Development from Conception to Maturity” (Ph.D. diss., University of California, Berkeley, 1972), 1; and John T. Fitzgerald, “The passions and moral progress: an introduction,” in Passions and Moral Progress in Greco-Roman Thought (ed. J. T. Fitzgerald; New York: Routledge, 2008), 15.

85 grasp of the Stoic theory of moral development, will require an examination of the basics of Stoic cognition, action, and ethics.

Cognitive acts – understanding, learning, reasoning, and knowing – undergird

Stoic accounts of moral progress, including the excerpt from Cicero cited above.17 This emphasis on cognition is rooted in the Stoic conception of the soul. The Stoics conceive of an entirely rational soul that has no non-rational parts: a Stoic’s every thought, feeling, and action is based on cognitive processes and results from decisions made by the reasoning faculty. Stoic moral development is, then, rational development.18 Thus for the Stoics, the attainment of virtue requires that one replace all false beliefs with correct, or true, beliefs. How, then, does one come to have correct beliefs? The cognitive process, according to the Stoics, begins with an impression of one’s surroundings. Humans constantly receive impressions (φαντασίαι) of the world around them, and these impressions carry with them certain propositions. The initial grasping

17 Cicero describes cognitive actions and concepts in Fin. 3.20-22, 23 using the following vocabulary: intellegi, intellegentiam (which he equates with the Greek term ἔννοια), cognitione, ratione, and sapientiam.

18 The Stoics’ emphasis on rational development should not be taken to imply that other aspects of a human being’s internal constitution remain undeveloped as he progresses toward virtue. For the Stoic, the entire soul is rational, and thus there are no non-rational parts that remain undeveloped. This is an important aspect of Stoic moral progress to grasp, for, as we shall later see, the Platonists have quite a different take on the psychological constitution of humans. On the psychological holism of the Stoics, see Christopher Gill, The Structured Self in Hellenistic and Roman Thought (New York: Oxford University Press, 2006), 133-145. Moreover, as Gill, 32, makes clear, Stoic moral development is also holistic from a psychophysical standpoint.

86 of an impression and its accompanying proposition, however, does not amount to belief in the veracity of that impression. Belief, and more specifically, knowledge, can only come about through assent (συνκατάθεσις) to an impression.19 The graphic below represents this process:

Impression & Proposition Assent Belief

“There is x.” “I assent to the impression “I hold the belief that there

that there is x.” is x.”

The relationship that Stoics posit between impressions, assents, and belief reveals an important aspect of Stoic cognition: Stoics are responsible for their own beliefs.20 The

Stoics claim that impressions and propositions do not force a human to believe that these impressions and propositions are true. Only when a human’s reasoning faculty assents to an impression does that human form a belief. The Stoic cannot blame his adherence to particular ideas or values on an impressionistic, non-rational part of his

19 Regarding the translation of συνκατάθεσις (as well as κρίσις and δοξάζειν) as “assent,” see Margaret R. Graver, Stoicism and Emotion (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2007), 26, 226n.38; Tad Brennan, The Stoic Life: Emotions, Duties, and Fate (New York: Oxford University Press, 2005), 51-52.

20 Brennan, The Stoic Life, 51-81, examines in greater detail the relationship between impressions, assent, beliefs, and knowledge.

87 soul because his soul is entirely rational. Every impression is channeled, via a substance called the πνεῦμα, to the commanding faculty of the soul, and it is this faculty which chooses to assent, or not assent, to the impression. Stoics’ values and ideas thus arise either from correct beliefs or incorrect beliefs. They do not originate from desires or feelings that are uncontrolled by the reasoning faculty, because all desires or feelings are controlled by the reasoning faculty.

I use the term “belief” here to encompass several kinds of cognition described by the Stoics: opinion (δόξα), knowledge (κατάληψις), and scientific knowledge

(ἐπιστήμη).21 As beliefs, each of these types of cognition result from an agent’s assent to an impression, but they may be distinguished from one another on the basis of the preceding impression’s strength and the strength of an agent’s rational faculty. An opinion (δόξα) is the feeblest form of belief, and it results from an eager (what the

Stoics term “weak”) assent to an ambiguous impression. Knowledge (κατάληψις) is a more stable form of belief and results from a weak assent to a clear and accurate impression. Scientific knowledge (ἐπιστήμη) is a completely stable form of belief and as such is formed by a measured (or “strong”) assent to a clear and accurate impression.22

21 Following Brennan, The Stoic Life, 62-81.

22 For ancient discussions regarding the differences between δόξα, κατάληψις, and ἐπιστήμη, see LS 41.

88 Thus each type of belief is characteristic of a different stage of epistemological progress. This is perhaps best illustrated by the Stoic Zeno’s analogy of a fist, reported by Cicero:

Zeno used to clinch the wise person’s sole possession of scientific knowledge with a gesture. He would spread out the fingers of one hand and display its open palm, saying “An impression is like this.” Next he clenched his fingers a little and said, “Assent is like this.” Then, pressing his fingers quite together, he made a fist, and said that this was knowledge (and from this illustration he gave that mental state the name of katalēpsis, which it had not had before.) Then he brought his left hand against his right fist and gripped it tightly and forcefully, and said that scientific knowledge was like this and possessed by none except the wise person. (Acad. 2.145 [LS 41A, slightly modified])23

Only the sage possesses scientific knowledge, while the non-wise human possesses a mixture of opinions and knowledge. The difference between the sage’s scientific knowledge and the non-wise human’s mere opinions and knowledge lies in the measured and consistent rationality possessed by the sage. Only the sage can give a strong and consistent assent, and only the sage withholds this assent until he receives a clear impression. The non-wise human, on the other hand, because he lacks the firm and consistent rationality of the sage, is capable only of hasty assents. As this non-wise human progresses on the road toward wisdom and happiness, however, he will learn to grant hasty assent only to clear impressions rather than ambiguous ones, thereby

23 The form of belief often held by the non-wise man (that is, “opinion”) is not mentioned in Cicero’s account because it has no place in the wise man’s processes of cognition.

89 gaining some knowledge. Eventually, if he becomes fully wise, his assents will be measured and consistent, and he will only assent to accurate impressions. At this point, he will possess scientific knowledge.

This categorization of beliefs provides us with a rough outline of epistemological progress, but fails to illuminate the process by which beliefs are turned into action. How do a Stoic’s thoughts go from being pertinent only in the cognitive realm to having real consequences in the world of moral action? According to the

Stoics, beliefs that lead directly to action are termed impulses (ὁρμαί).24 Thus if I assent to a particular type of impression (for example, the impression that “it is a good thing for me to pick up groceries right now”), I will possess an impulse that results in my travel to the local market. There are three major kinds of impulses: πάθη (corrupt

24 Cf. Diogenes Laertius 85-86 (LS 57A); Cicero, Off. 1.132 (LS 53J); ibid., ND 2.58 (LS 53Y); Philo, Leg. all. 1.30 (LS 53P); Stobaeus, Ecl. 2.86.17-87.6 (LS 53Q), 2.88.2-6 (LS 33J). Brad Inwood, Ethics and Human Action in Early Stoicism (New York: Oxford University Press, 1985), 45-66, defines “impulse” as that psychological event which is “the cause of an action, as being its necessary and sufficient condition,” further stating that an impulse “invariably produces an action, provided that no external obstacles bar the physical execution of the act.” Brennan, The Stoic Life, 86-87, defines “impulse” as “an assent to an impression of a certain kind, i.e. an impression that attributes a certain kind of value to the agent’s own potential action.”

90 emotions), εὐπαθεῖαι (good emotions), and ἐκλογαί and ἀπεκλογαί (selections and rejections).25

In ancient philosophical parlance the Greek term πάθη (sg. πάθος) can refer to a great many states that correspond to our notions of emotion, feeling, passion, and experience.26 Πάθη can be positive or negative, justified or unjustified, rational or non- rational, depending on the particular philosophical context in which the term is deployed. In a Stoic context, however, the term πάθη always refers to emotions that are based upon corrupt reasoning. Thus I translate πάθη here as “corrupt emotions.”27

Technically speaking, the Stoic πάθη are false impulses that result from hasty and excessive assents to incorrect impressions regarding the value of particular things

(Stobaeus, Ecl. 2.88.8-90.6 [LS 65A]; Galen, Plac. 4.2.10-18 [LS 65J], 4.5.21-5 [LS 65L];

Seneca, Ep. 75.12). Put in less technical terms, the πάθη are corrupt emotions whose

25 These three classes of impulses are distinguished from one another in much the same way as the three broader categories of cognition (opinion, knowledge, and scientific knowledge). And, in fact, every impulse can also be categorized as an opinion, knowledge, or scientific knowledge (Stobaeus, Ecl. 2.88.22-89.3 [LS 65C]; Brennan, The Stoic Life, 90).

26 The translation of πάθη into English proves quite difficult. The English translations “affection,” “experience,” “passion,” and “emotion” are all imperfect synonyms for the Greek πάθη, as numerous studies on the emotions in antiquity have shown. See, for example, David Konstan, The Emotions of the Ancient Greeks: Studies in Aristotle and Greek Literature (Buffalo: University of Toronto Press, 2006), 3-40; Graver, Stoicism and Emotion, 2-5; and Fitzgerald, “The passions and moral progress,” 2-5.

27 Another reason behind my choice to translate πάθη as “corrupt emotions” is my desire to emphasize the contrast between the πάθη and the εὐπαθεῖαι (“good emotions”).

91 corrupt nature derives from their basis in false beliefs regarding goodness and baseness.28 Corrupt emotions can be grouped into four main categories: delight, desire, distress, and fear. Specific corrupt emotions within these categories include spite

(ἐπιχαιρεκακία), anger (ὀργή), longing (πόθος), shame (αἰσχύνη), panic (δεῖμα), and agony (ἄση).29 Only non-wise people possess πάθη. Wise humans cannot possess πάθη because they do not have false beliefs regarding the nature of goodness and baseness.

Indeed, Stoics maintain that in order to attain virtue and wisdom, a progressing person must entirely eliminate the corrupt emotions (Tusc. 4.57). The Stoic term for this condition of the wise is ἀπάθεια. For the Stoic progressing toward virtue, however, the eradication of these corrupt emotions can be quite difficult, for all humans possess differentiable traits of character that, among the non-wise, are viewed as sicknesses or proclivities (νοσήματα or εὐεμπτωσία). These sicknesses and proclivities predispose humans to experience some corrupt emotions more than others. Many individuals

28 An example will help clarify this definition. My friend Jane experiences rivalry, considered a corrupt emotion (πάθος) by the Stoics, when she evaluates as good the high- paying job that her sister, Cathy, recently started. The emotion of rivalry that Jane experiences is corrupt because it is based on a false belief: that is, the belief that money is a good. Graver, Stoicism and Emotion, 38-46, thoroughly explicates the way in which dispositional beliefs (e.g. Jane’s belief that having a well-paying job is a good thing) and occurent beliefs (e.g. Jane’s belief that her sister, Cathy, has a better-paying job than she) work together to produce corrupt emotions (such as rivalry).

29 See Graver, Stoicism and Emotion, 56, for a classification of corrupt emotions according to their genus (i.e. delight, desire, distress, and fear).

92 establish a pronounced pattern of corrupt emotional responses to events, and these reactions can become so ingrained that they are difficult to counteract.30

Εὐπαθεῖαι, which I shall translate as “good emotions,” are the exact opposite of the corrupt emotions (πάθη): they are true impulses held only by wise individuals. They are not based on false beliefs, as are the corrupt emotions, but on true beliefs. Only a sage can possess true εὐπαθεῖαι, because non-wise people lack the strong assent necessary to possess good emotions. Thus the Stoics possess a view of the corrupt emotions and good emotions that is entirely absolutist in nature. A human may possess either εὐπαθεῖαι or πάθη – he cannot possess both at the same time.31 Persons progressing in virtue, however, can possess approximations or semblances of good emotions. Εὐπαθεῖαι are divided into three general categories: joy, wish, and caution.

Specific emotions within these categories include joy in a sensible person’s deeds

(εὐφροσύνη), wishing that good might befall another person for that person’s own sake

(εὐνοία), and caution against improper conduct toward the gods (ἁγνεία).32

Ἐκλογαί and ἀπεκλογαί (selections and rejections, respectively) are the third and final type of impulses posited by Stoics. They involve choosing, or refraining from

30 Ibid., 133-148.

31 Ibid., 51.

32 Ibid., 58.

93 choosing, things the Stoics call “indifferents” (ἀδιάφορα).33 The “indifferents” that the progressing Stoic selects or rejects, however, are not “absolute indifferents” (καθάπαξ

ἀδιάφορα), such as the number of hairs on one’s head or the crookedness of one’s finger.34 Rather, the Stoics write about selecting or rejecting those indifferents that may be used well or badly. Such indifferents may be beneficial and preferred (e.g., wealth, health, fame, and physical strength) or unbeneficial and dispreferred (e.g., sickness, poverty, and bodily infirmity). Indifferents qua indifferents, however, do not contribute to happiness. Rather, their moral significance lies in the fact that an agent decides to select or reject indifferents based on his understanding of what is in accordance with nature and the good. That is, a progressing Stoic learns how to exercise virtue by selecting or rejecting indifferents based on his knowledge of the extent to which an indifferent accords with nature. For example, wealth does not affect a progressing

Stoic’s proximity to virtue any more than poverty. Whether a progressing Stoic is rich or poor, his ability to act in accordance with nature is unaffected. Yet, if given a choice in the matter, the progressing Stoic may select wealth – not because wealth is an intrinsic good, but because wealth is a natural advantage that may afford the

33 For concise definitions of “selection” and “rejection,” see Brennan, The Stoic Life, 99.

34 Such “absolute indifferents” are thoroughly outside the realm of selection and rejection; see Stobaeus, Ecl. 2.79.5-17; and Diogenes Laertius 7.104-105 (LS 58B).

94 progressing Stoic more opportunities to pursue virtue. If the progressing Stoic loses that wealth and becomes poor, however, it should be of no consequence to him. His ability to discern the good and act in an appropriate manner will not diminish on account of the loss of his wealth. Moreover, if the progressing Stoic senses that wealth will have a detrimental effect on his ability to pursue virtue, he will reject it. Thus wealth is a beneficial indifferent that is appropriate for a Stoic to select, provided that he understands that wealth is not good in and of itself. Both the non-wise and the wise are capable of making correct selections and rejections. Virtue exists and can be attained only through the practice of correct selection and rejection. The wise, however, always make selections and rejections with a consistent and comprehensive awareness of the good as the reason which lies behind their selection, whereas the non- wise only sporadically make selections and rejections with an awareness of the decision’s accordance with nature.35

The Stoics call those actions that result from true selections and rejections

καθήκοντα (sg. καθῆκον). As a Stoic progresses toward wisdom and virtue, the consistency with which he performs καθήκοντα grows. Often translated as “proper function” or “appropriate action,” a καθῆκον is an activity appropriate to humans’

35 For more on the importance of selection and rejection in Stoic moral progress, see A. A. Long, Hellenistic Philosophy: Stoics, Epicureans, Sceptics (2d ed.; Berkeley: University of California Press, 1986), 190-193.

95 natural constitution (Diogenes Laertius 7.107 [LS 59C]). Initial appropriate actions include sleeping and eating, while more advanced appropriate actions include honoring parents, country, and friends (Diogenes Laertius 7.108 [LS 59E]). Appropriate actions that are performed by wise humans are called κατόρθωματα, or “right actions.”

Thus both progressing persons and wise humans may honor their parents, but progressing persons’ actions are appropriate, while wise humans’ actions are right. The difference between appropriate actions and right actions, again, rests in the mind of the agent. Wise humans may perform the same actions as progressing humans, but wise humans do so with a consistent and all-encompassing awareness of the good as the reason behind their actions. Progressing humans, on the other hand, lack complete consistency with themselves and with nature. They may act appropriately, but their reasons for doing so are not informed by a consistent awareness of the good and nature.36

What drives humans toward καθήκοντα? Why do humans choose to exercise their reason? One of the most important motivating forces in humans’ tendency toward a life according to reason, according to the Stoics, is the natural process of οἰκείωσις.

Often translated as “appropriation,” “affinity,” or “familiarization,” οἰκείωσις refers to

36 For a fuller explanation of the difference between καθήκοντα and κατόρθωματα, see Gill, The Structured Self, 130-131; and Inwood, Ethics and Human Action, 201-215.

96 the gradual process whereby a being recognizes and familiarizes itself with those most fundamental aspects of its nature. For humans οἰκείωσις begins at birth with acts of self-preservation: after all, humans are naturally inclined to do what is good and appropriate for themselves.37 Once a human reaches rational maturity during his teenage years, he is naturally inclined to act according to reason, that most fundamental aspect of himself. Thus he performs acts appropriate to his reason

(καθήκοντα) because he is naturally inclined to exercise his reason.38 Underlying this concept of οἰκείωσις is an assumption fundamental to Stoic ethics: all humans are equally capable, in terms of their internal constitution, of recognizing the good. All humans have an innate predisposition toward virtue because Nature (understood in the sense of God) has implanted within them the capacity to reason (Seneca, Ep. 120.4;

37 There are no surviving, complete systematic treatises from antiquity on the topic of οἰκείωσις, but only brief mentions of the process by Cicero, Seneca, Plutarch, Diogenes Laertius, Hierocles, and the like. See Brennan, The Stoic Life, 154, for a complete list of authors who discuss οἰκείωσις. For recent secondary literature on the topic of οἰκείωσις, see Reydams-Schils, The Roman Stoics, 26, 55-59; Gisela Striker, “The Role of oikeiôsis in Stoic ethics,” in Essays on Hellenistic Epistemology and Ethics (ed. G. Striker; New York: Cambridge University Press, 1996), 281-298; Annas, The Morality of Happiness, 262-3; and Brennan, The Stoic Life, 156.

38 As Reydams-Schils, The Roman Stoics, 58, stresses, this two-tiered conception of οἰκείωσις does not entail that there are two types of οἰκείωσις. Rather, once the second level of οἰκείωσις (the exercise of reason) is reached, this second level subsumes and transforms the earlier mode of self-preservation.

97 Stobaeus, Ecl. 2.65.8 [LS 61L]).39 Yet humanity’s innate predisposition toward virtue does not mean that all humans will achieve great virtue. Humans’ moral progress may be hampered by their own vicious proclivities toward corrupt emotions or corrupted by the teachings of other, vicious humans.40 Thus leading a life in accordance with nature is made possible by virtue of one’s humanity, but it is not guaranteed by virtue of that same humanity.

The process of appropriation whereby humans become aware of the fundamental aspects of their human nature also engenders within them concern for other humans. Self-preservation entails sociability, and a human’s appreciation of his rationality leads to his appreciation of other humans because of their rationality.41 The natural constitution of the Stoic, therefore, requires that he interact with and befriend other humans in order to progress toward virtue. Cicero’s Stoic Cato beautifully describes the social aspect of οἰκείωσις in the following way:

The very fact of being human requires that no human be considered a stranger to any other….Take the so-called “sea-pine,” with its broad shell, and the creature known as the “pine-guard,” because it watches over the sea-pine, swimming out of the latter’s shell and being shut up

39 On this point see also Gill, The Structured Self, 131-133.

40 A. A. Long, Hellenistic Philosophy, 178; L. L. Haber, “Prokope,” 386-390.

41 See Asmis, “The Stoics on Women,” 71-75, for a concise account of the social aspect of moral and intellectual progress.

98 inside it when it retreats, as if apparently having warned the sea-pine to beware. Or take ants, bees and storks – they too act altruistically. Yet the ties between human beings are far closer.…And the fact that no one would choose to live in splendid isolation, however well supplied with pleasures, shows that we are born to join together and associate with one another and form natural communities. Indeed we are naturally driven to want to help as many people as possible, especially by teaching and handing on the principles of practical reason. It is hard to find anyone who does not pass on what they know to someone else. Thus we have a propensity for teaching as much as for learning. (Fin. 3.63, 65-66 [Woolf])

Cicero’s Cato claims that humans’ very nature drives them to care for other humans, and this care increases as humans familiarize themselves with the demands of the natural life. He then adds that humans are also naturally inclined to teach the principles of reason to others, passing on to fellow humans the knowledge that they have gained. In this way, education is seen as both natural and fundamental to moral progress: humans come to appreciate the good and virtue in part by learning from other humans who are naturally driven to impart their wisdom to the less-progressed.

Moreover, this educational aspect of οἰκείωσις highlights the fact that Stoics assume that they differ from one another with respect to their nearness to virtue. If all Stoics were equal with respect to their level of moral progress, they would not be able to (and would not have to) impart to one another additional knowledge regarding the principles of practical reason.

99 The intellectual and social changes that a developing Stoic undergoes as he progresses toward virtue are accompanied by physical changes – some more temporary and others more permanent – to the condition of his soul’s πνεῦμα. The Stoics maintain that the soul consists of a material called πνεῦμα, which is a fiery and airy substance that pervades, sustains, and holds together the universe and all within it. Within the human being, this πνεῦμα stretches throughout the body, connecting the soul’s commanding faculty with the body and its senses. The impressions that the body receives are transmitted via the πνεῦμα to the commanding faculty of the soul, which then chooses to assent, or not to assent, to the impression (Galen, Intr. 14.726.7-11 [LS

47N]; Hierocles 1.5-33, 4.38-53 [LS 53B], Calcidious 220 [LS 53G]; Aetius 4.21.1-4 [LS 53H];

Stobaeus, Ecl. 1.368.12-20 [LS 53K]; Philo, Leg. all. 1.30 [LS 53P]). The condition of the soul’s πνεῦμα is altered when the controlling faculty receives an impression and/or forms a belief, and over time these changes contribute to a more permanent change in the overall condition of the πνεῦμα. 42 When a human is born, the tension and movement of his soul’s πνεῦμα resembles that of non-human animals. As the human’s reasoning faculty develops, his πνεῦμα changes in condition, becoming more rarified

42 L. L. Haber, “Prokope,” 86.

100 and fiery. Eventually, as the human draws increasingly closer to virtue, the πνεῦμα of his soul comes to resemble, both in its tension and movement, the divine πνεῦμα.43

Armed with a firmer grasp on the basics of Stoic ethics, cognition, epistemology, and physics, I will now venture a more thorough exegesis of Cicero’s statements in Fin.

3.20-23, clarifying some of his more obscure points and filling in his account where necessary.44 A human’s progress toward wisdom begins with acts of self-preservation.

This human strives instinctively toward such acts as a child because he is naturally predisposed to care for himself. Once this human’s rational faculty reaches full maturity in his teenage years, he is naturally inclined toward developing his reason, for he now recognizes reason as the most fundamental aspect of his nature. This natural capacity for understanding the good through reason, however, does not mean that this human progresses toward virtue just because he is human. Rather, this human must

43 For an extensive treatment of the relationship between Stoic moral development and Stoic physical theories regarding the πνεῦμα, see L. L. Haber, “Prokope,” in particular Haber’s helpful chart on p.459.

44 For other examinations of Stoic moral development based on Cicero’s description, see Long, Hellenistic Philosophy, 184-209; Annas, The Morality of Happiness, 169-170; Gill, The Structured Self, 129-166; and Reydams-Schils, The Roman Stoics, 55-59.

101 actively train himself to exercise his reason.45 He develops true beliefs by assenting only to accurate impressions, by learning to identify what is truly good and what is truly bad, and by taking cues from his teachers. These true beliefs lead to his performance of appropriate actions. This progressing human slowly eradicates corrupt emotions, and, as he comes to appreciate virtue and the good, he begins to act solely for the sake of virtue. This progressing human develops concern for others because he recognizes the rationality shared between himself and others, and he will perform acts of virtue aimed at benefitting others even when those acts conflict with his concern for self-preservation. Moreover, this progressing human’s πνεῦμα changes in condition, coming to resemble more closely the divine πνεῦμα in both tension and movement.

This progressing human gradually and incrementally develops his understanding of that which is in accordance with nature, and finally, once he consistently acts in a fully unified, cohesive, and rational manner, he becomes – in the blink of an eye – a Stoic sage.

According to the Stoics, a human does not possess virtue until he reaches this very point of transformation. That is, all humans progressing toward virtue are equally vice-ridden; only upon a human’s transformation into a sage does he become virtuous.

45 Gill, The Structured Self, 133. Perhaps an analogy will clarify this point: just because a human is born with legs does not mean he will become an Olympic runner. Rather, he trains to develop the capacity for running with which he was born.

102 The virtues, according to the Stoics, are mutually entailing, and once a human possesses one virtue, he possesses them all (Stobaeus, Ecl. 2.63.6-24 [LS 61D], 2.66.14-

2.67.4 [LS 61G]; Plutarch, Stoic. rep. 1046E-F [LS 61F]). Thus Stoic moral perfection is, in a sense, an all-or-nothing affair: only wise humans are virtuous, while all other humans are vice-ridden. Moreoever, because the Stoic sage is fully virtuous, consistent, and rational, the Stoics posit that he will never lose his virtue. Once virtue is fully attained, the certainty of the sage’s mental consistency will not allow him to lose it (Seneca, Ep.

34.3-4).46 This absolutist stance regarding virtue and vice may, prima facie, appear to contradict the schema of moral progress outlined above: how can one progress morally if the Stoics admit no gradations of virtue or vice? Indeed, similar criticisms are littered throughout the anti-Stoic treatises of antiquity (Plutarch, Virt. mor. 75C [LS 61S];

Alexander, Fat. 199.14-22 [LS 61N]). The Stoics, however, would respond by stating that equality with respect to vice does not preclude differing distances from virtue. That is:

Just as in the sea the man an arm’s length from the surface is drowning no less than the one who has sunk five hundred fathoms, so even those who are getting close to virtue are no less in a state of vice than those who are far from it. And just as the blind are blind even if they are going to recover their sight a little later, so those progressing remain foolish

46 Cf. Diogenes Laertius 7.127 (LS 61I). Diogenes records that Cleanthes maintained that the wise man could not lose his virtue; Chrysippus, however, stated that virtue could be lost as a result of drunkenness or melancholy.

103 and vicious right up to their attainment of virtue. (Plutarch, Comm. not. 1063A-B [LS 61T])47

Thus, though the Stoics believe that all progressing humans are equally vicious, they also believe that some humans are closer to virtue and wisdom than others. That is, progressing humans’ possession of vice does not render inconsequential their nearness to virtue. In fact, this nearness to virtue is an important distinction to make amongst progressing persons, for to achieve the status of a sage is a feat as rare as the phoenix

(Alexander, Fat. 199.14-22 [LS 61N]; Seneca, Ep. 42.1; Seneca, Ira 2.10.6). Very few people ever truly possess wisdom, and the Stoic concept of the wise human is, for the most part, an ideal that will likely never be attained. Only a handful of humans will ever reach complete moral perfection, but humans must strive for virtue all the same.

Epicurean Moral Progress: Freedom from Pain

At some point during the second-century CE, an Epicurean from the city of

Oenoanda, now referred to as Diogenes, inscribed upon a series of massive limestone blocks the basic tenets of Epicurean philosophy.48 Among the treatises, letters, and

47 Plutarch here reports a Stoic argument. As Geert Roskam, On the Path to Virtue: The Stoic Doctrine of Moral Progress and its Reception in (Middle-) Platonism (AMP 1.33; Leuven: Leuven University Press, 2005), 70, states, “The fundamental equality in moral depravity [among non- wise men] does not imply…that there are no concrete differences between human beings.”

48 Discovered during excavations of Oenoanda in the late nineteenth century, this massive inscription constitutes an important source for our knowledge regarding Epicurean philosophy

104 maxims recorded on this “Great Wall” is Diogenes’ emphatic affirmation of the

Epicurean goal of life:

Now if, fellow men, the question at issue between these people [Stoics] and ourselves [Epicureans] involved examining ‘what is the means of happiness?,’ and they wanted to say the virtues, as is in fact true, there would be no need to do anything except to agree with them and abandon the matter. But since, as I was saying, the issue is not ‘what is the means of happiness?,’ but what being happy is and what our nature ultimately desires, I affirm now and always, with a great shout, that for all Greeks and foreigners, pleasure is the end of the best lifestyle. (26.1.2-3.8 [LS 21P, slightly modified])

As Diogenes asserts, though both Stoics and Epicureans view as interrelated the achievement of happiness, the practice of virtue, and the pursuit of a natural life, they hold fundamentally different views regarding the defining characteristics of happiness and the natural life. Whereas the Stoics claim that the identifying marker of human nature is reason, the Epicureans tout pleasure as humans’ most natural characteristic.

Whereas the Stoics consider virtue to be the highest good, the Epicureans view virtue as a means to an end.49 Thus Diogenes, in excited support of Epicurean philosophy,

of the Roman imperial period. For further study of the inscription, see C.W. Chilton, Diogenes of Oenoanda: The Fragments, A Translation and Commentary (New York: Oxford University Press, 1971); Diskin Clay, “The Philosophical Inscription of Diogenes of Oenoanda: New Discoveries 1969-1983,” ANRW II 36.4 (1990): 2446-2559; and Pamela Gordon, Epicurus in Lycia: The Second- Century World of Diogenes of Oenoanda (Ann Arbor: The University of Michigan Press, 1996).

49 Diogenes of Oenoanda’s assertion that Epicureans view virtue as a means to happiness and do not equate virtue with happiness itself is echoed by Cicero, Fin. 1.42, 1.54. For

105 champions pleasure as the ultimate end. The Epicurean life of pleasure, however, is a far more sobering affair than the hedonistic lifestyle one might imagine. Epicureans do not conceive of pleasure as resulting from a willy-nilly quest to enjoy the fruits of life to the fullest; rather, Epicureans define pleasure as a condition marked by the absence of bodily and mental pain.50 This pain-free pleasure, moreover, is characterized by consistency. Thus the Epicureans write of static (or katastematic) pleasure when referring to the goal of life. Pleasure that is short-lived (what the Epicureans term

“kinetic” pleasure) is desirable but cannot ensure a life free from perturbation.51

Though Epicureans and Stoics disagree about the exact nature of happiness,

Epicureans do agree with Stoics on the simple point that all humans are naturally

discussions regarding the relationship between the virtues and pleasure in Epicurean ethics, see A. A. Long, From Epicurus to Epictetus: Studies in Hellenistic and Roman philosophy (New York: Oxford University Press, 2006), 185-189; and Voula Tsouna, The Ethics of Philodemus (New York: Oxford University Press, 2007), 25-27.

50 The Epicureans also refer to this pain-free pleasure as tranquility. On Epicureans’ equation of pleasure with states of painlessness and tranquility, see Diogenes Laertius 10.132 (LS 21B), 10.128; and Cicero, Fin. 1.29-32, 37-9 (LS 21A).

51 The difference between static (or katastematic) pleasure and kinetic pleasure is best illustrated in Cicero, Fin. 2.9-10 (LS 21Q). Here Cicero’s Epicurean spokesman, Torquatus, examines the types of pleasure experienced by a parched man quenching his thirst. As the parched man drinks, he experiences kinetic pleasure – a pleasure which, though quite enjoyable, does not last. Once the parched man has fully quenched his thirst, he experiences the static, pain-free pleasure of satiation. Though both kinds of pleasure are good and desirable, only the static pleasure derived upon the man’s arrival at a pain-free, thirst-less state contributes to a happy and virtuous life.

106 inclined toward happiness. According to the Epicureans, every human (and even every animal) is instinctually driven to pursue pleasure and avoid pain (Cicero, Fin. 1.30;

Diogenes Laertius 10.129). Such instincts, which the Epicureans consider non-rational, serve as key sources of truth for the progressing Epicurean. Epicurus famously asserted that humans gain access to knowledge and truth through their sensations (αἰσθήσεις), preconceptions (προλήψεις), and emotions (πάθη) (Diogenes Laertius 10.31). 52

Sensations – that is, impressions gathered by one’s senses – are always true according to Epicurus. Our eyes, ears, nose, mouth, and sense of touch never lie. Epicureans also asserts that sensations do not depend upon our rational faculty: reason has nothing to do with a human’s sense of smell or ability to taste a strawberry (Diogenes Laertius

10.31-32 [LS 16B], 10.82; Cicero, Fin. 1.64).53 Indeed, sensation itself is the foundation of reason. As the Epicurean Lucretius writes in the first-century BCE: “What should be considered to have greater reliability than the senses? Will reason have the power to contradict them, if it is itself the product of false sensation? For reason is in its entirety

52 It is important to note that in this Epicurean context, the πάθη are not corrupt emotions based on false knowledge, but emotions that allow for some measure of knowledge.

53 Stephen Everson, “Epicurus on the truth of the senses,” in Epistemology (CAT 1; ed. S. Everson; New York: Cambridge University Press, 1990), 161-183, analyzes this Epicurean claim, arguing that the objects perceived by the senses are the atoms that travel to our sensory organs rather than solid objects.

107 the product of the senses, so that if the senses are not true all reason becomes false as well” (RN 4.482-485 [LS 16A]).

Preconceptions, by which Epicureans mean “a sort of apprehension or a right opinion or notion, or a universal idea stored in the mind” also help humans to arrive at truth (Diogenes Laertius 10.33). Though preconceptions are rationally based, they work together with sensation, which is completely non-rational, in order to produce knowledge. For instance, if I know the characteristics that distinguish a cat from other animals, and my senses alert me to the presence of those characteristics, I will then have knowledge that a cat is near me. Thus sensations, which are completely non- rational, work together with preconceptions, which are rationally-based, in order to produce knowledge.

Epicureans also believe that some emotios (πάθη) are standards of truth, but they do not claim that all πάθη contribute to knowledge. In the Epicurean context, the term πάθη may refer to true emotions or corrupt emotions; this is in marked contrast to the Stoic context, in which the term πάθη always refers to corrupt emotions. Because

Epicureans assert that the πάθη of pleasure and pain are instinctual and non-rational

(in the sense that they are outside the control of reason), pleasure and pain are uncorrupted by cognitive processes and thus serve as sources of truth (Diogenes

108 Laertius 10.137). Other emotions – such as fear, joy, dread, and anger – are intimately connected with the rational faculty and thus are often based upon false beliefs. This

Epicurean view of corrupt πάθη is similar to the Stoic view of the πάθη in general

(which, for the Stoics, are corrupt by definition).

Differences amongst the Epicureans regarding the particularities of emotional theory, however, do arise. Epicurus, for example, states unwaveringly that emotions are standards of truth, but Epicurus seems to have restricted his use of πάθη to the non- rational emotions of pleasure and pain. Other states of existence for which we would use the label “emotion” (fear, joy, dread, and the like) were not deemed πάθη by

Epicurus.54 The later Epicurean Philodemus of Gadara, on the other hand, using the term πάθη in a far more liberal manner, includes rational and non-rational emotions under the umbrella of πάθη. For Philodemus, πάθη could be outside the control of reason (and thus true), under the control of reason and true, or under the control of reason and false. Philodemus considers anger based upon true beliefs, for example, to

54 This analysis of Epicurus’ views on emotions is derived primarily from the work of David Konstan, whose arguments on the matter I find convincing. Konstan makes a forceful case for Epicurus’ (and possibly Lucretius’) restricted notion of πάθη in his article on “Epicurean ‘passions’ and the good life,” in The Virtuous Life in Greek Ethics (ed. B. Reis; New York: Cambridge University Press, 2006): 194-205. The argument is reproduced and somewhat expanded in his recent revision of his dissertation, A Life Worthy of the Gods: The Materialist Psychology of Epicurus (Las Vegas: Parmenides Publishing, 2008), 1-25.

109 be appropriate to wise humans. Yet anger based upon false beliefs, according to

Philodemus, is not conducive to a pleasure-filled life.55 Despite these terminological complexities, though, Epicureans theories of emotions (whether πάθη proper or not) may be boiled down to two basic premises: the non-rational emotions of pleasure and pain are always correct, and rational emotions are often based upon mistaken beliefs.56

The Epicurean insistence on the existence of non-rational emotions is, notably, strikingly opposed to the Stoic view that all emotions (both πάθη and εὐπαθεῖαι) arise through assent of the reasoning faculty.57

The senses, which are by Epicurean definition outside the control of reason, and the non-rational emotions of pleasure and pain, then, constitute important sources of truth for the Epicurean progressing in virtue. Yet in order for an Epicurean to perfect himself morally, he must supplement his natural, sub-rational ability to select pleasure

55 Konstan, “Epicurean ‘passions,’” 203-204; see also Tsouna, Ethics, 38-51, for a more thorough analysis of Philodemus’ views on emotion.

56 Konstan, “Epicurean ‘passions,’” 205.

57 It is worth noting here that the influence of Stoic theories of emotion on Philodemus’ thought has long been recognized. As Tsouna and David Armstrong point out, Philodemus’ idea of the emotional ‘bite’ derives from the Stoics (though, unlike the Stoics, he conceives of such bites as actual emotions). For more on this issue, see Tsouna, Ethics, 46-51; David Armstrong, “‘Be angry and sin not’: Philodemus versus the Stoics on natural bites and natural emotions,” in Passions and Moral Progress in Greco-Roman Thought (ed. J. T. Fitzgerald; New York: Routledge, 2008), 88-109; cf. Richard Sorabji, Emotion and Peace of Mind: From Stoic Agitation to Christian Temptation (New York: Oxford University Press, 2000), 202-203.

110 over pain with reason. Humans, despite their natural inclinations toward virtue, possess false beliefs as a result of ignorance and their contact with society-at-large.

Such false beliefs must be stamped out if a person is to progress in virtue, and reason is the only known antidote to these false beliefs. As Cicero’s representative Epicurean,

Torquatus, explains:

The root cause of life’s troubles is ignorance of what is good and bad. The mistakes that result often rob one of the greatest pleasures and lead to the harshest pains of mental torment. This is when wisdom must be brought to bear. It rids us of terror and desire and represents our surest guide to the goal of pleasure. For it is wisdom alone which drives misery from our hearts. Wisdom alone which stops us trembling with fear. Under her tutelage one can live in peace, the flame of all our desires extinguished. (Fin. 1.43 [Woolf])

The exercise of reason is also necessary for Epicurean moral development because it helps the progressing Epicurean to navigate the complexity of paths leading to the full alleviation of bodily and mental pain. Day-to-day living, after all, is a complicated affair, and an innate ability to choose pleasure over pain does not always ensure that one will achieve complete, static pleasure. Epicureans must sometimes choose pain in order to reach greater pleasure, and they must sometimes reject pleasure in order to avoid greater pain. Reason is needed to navigate these complex decisions. Reason also helps

Epicureans to recognize the inconsequentiality of bodily pain in their attainment of tranquility. Bodily pain is an inescapable facet of human existence. Because humans

111 cannot avoid certain bodily pains brought about by sickness, infirmity, or disaster, they must instead use reason to realize that such pain has no effect on their virtue.

Therefore, while humans are naturally inclined toward the pleasurable life from birth, they must still exercise their reason in order to attain a pleasure-filled life.58

Epicureans, then, agree with their Stoic contemporaries that reason plays a role in moral progress. Sober reasoning enables humans to pursue pleasure in a coherent and logical manner by finding a path that best enables them to correct those false beliefs that lead to disturbances of the soul (Diogenes Laertius 10.132). Though reason is necessary for the attainment of pleasure, however, is not a valuable end in and of itself.

This marks a major difference between Stoic and Epicurean theory. For Stoics, reason is that aspect of nature that informs the entirety of one’s conduct. For Epicureans, however, reason is more of a practical matter, a means to the more important end of attaining pleasure.59

58 Cic., Fin. 1.30-32, describes the mutual reinforcement of natural inclinations and reasoning; he also writes of the complex aspects of pleasure selection. See also Martha C. Nussbaum, The Therapy of Desire: Theory and Practice in Hellenistic Ethics (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1994), 105-111, for a description of the interplay between natural inclinations and reasoning in achieving static pleasure. Susanne Bobzien, “Moral responsibility and moral development in Epicurus’ philosophy,” in The Virtuous Life in Greek Ethics (ed. B. Reis; New York: Cambridge University Press, 2006), 220-222, also provides an account of Epicurean moral development that emphasizes the necessity of reason.

59 Nussbaum, Therapy, 128.

112 Thus by remaining alert to one’s sensations and non-rational emotions, and by cultivating one’s reason, an Epicurean will slowly begin to learn the true nature of pleasure, progressing gradually in virtue. It is worth noting here that the Epicureans conceive of the non-rational element of the soul as working in conjunction with the rational element as one progresses in virtue. The non-rational Epicurean soul-part does not have desires or agendas that contradict the rational part. This is, as we shall see, quite different from the way in which the Platonic soul-parts interact with one another.

Epicureanism, just like Stoicism, is characterized by psychosomatic and psychological holisms: Epicurean moral progress involves the development of the human’s entire soul and body and is not myopically focused on developing one core aspect of the human.60

For aid upon the path to pleasure, Epicurus created a three-fold classification of desires by which an Epicurean might measure his actions. Desires, according to

Epicurus, may be 1) both natural and necessary, 2) natural but not necessary, and 3) empty (neither natural nor necessary) (Diogenes Laertius 10.127, 10.149 [LS 21I]; Cicero,

Fin. 1.45; Philodemus, Elect. 13.12-17). Natural and necessary desires are those that bring relief from pain, such as the desire to drink when thirsty or the desire to find shelter during a hurricane. Natural but not necessary desires do not contribute to the relief of

60 Gill, The Structured Self, 113-117, briefly outlines the psychological and psychophysical holism characteristic of Epicurean ethics.

113 pain, but rather aim only at varying pleasure: these might include the desire to eat bread rather than quinoa or the desire to drink lemonade rather than water. Empty desires, which are neither natural nor necessary, are not aimed at self-preservation or the removal of pain: these might include dreams of becoming an Olympic athlete or a hankering to travel to Las Vegas for an all-night bender. Empty desires, as well as natural but not necessary desires, are ultimately rooted in false beliefs regarding the nature of pleasure and pain (Diogenes Laertius 10.149 [LS 21E]). One may think that an unbroken succession of drinking-bouts and revelry will produce a pleasant life, but in reality it produces a short-lived buzz that ultimately ends in a painful hangover

(Diogenes Laertius 10.132 [LS 21B]).

Epicureans are adamant that reason, wisdom, and virtue typically cannot be fully developed in solitude. Though some incredibly diligent and wise humans (such as

Epicurus) found their way to happiness by themselves, the great majority of people need help from others in gaining knowledge. 61 Thus Epicureans assert that an individual’s capacity for pleasure is often best developed within a group of like-minded individuals. For this reason Epicurus created the Garden, a secluded area in which

Epicureans examined, instructed, and corrected one another in order to aid all upon

61 For Epicurus’ tri-fold classification of humans on the basis of their need and desire for instruction, see Seneca, Ep. 52.3-4.

114 the road to complete tranquility. This sectarian-oriented brand of communal exhortation is a hallmark of Epicurean ethics. Interactions with the general populace are believed to negatively affect a human’s development toward virtue and pleasure, introducing false beliefs and bad behaviors to the unsuspecting human. Fear of death, love of money, desperation over the future: all of these conditions may be borne from false beliefs that humans learn from those around them. Thus the environment most conducive to moral progress is one in which an Epicurean is surrounded by other individuals who are also dedicated to the pursuit of pain-free pleasure. Only those who know the true nature of pleasure and pain are qualified to help others rid themselves of false beliefs.62

Our richest and most systematic explication of the practice of communal exhortation comes to us in the form of lecture notes taken by Philodemus of Gadara regarding the practice of frank criticism within an Epicurean group.63 Philodemus conceives of the Epicurean community as a complex network of social interactions between adherents with varying levels of moral aptitude; all members are expected to

62 Regarding the culture of the hoi polloi as one source of false beliefs, see Epicurus, SV 29, 54 (LS 25D), 45 (LS 25E); see also Nussbaum, Therapy, 111.

63 For an excellent introduction to Philodemus’ Lib., see Clarence E. Glad, “Introduction,” in Philodemus, On Frank Criticism: Introduction, Translation, and Notes (SBLTT 43; ed. D. Konstan et al; Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1998), 1-24.

115 goad one another toward moral betterment through friendship and instruction. In general, moral instruction is directed toward “the young” or “those in preparation,” and such training may be induced when a student reveals his own faults, when a student reports the blunders of his fellow pupils to a teacher, or when students and teachers spontaneously offer up critiques of their comrades.64 Even wise humans and eminent teachers are in need of correction: the Epicurean sage, unlike the Stoic one, is not immune to moral turpitude (Philodemus, Lib. frgs. 45, 46, col. VIIIb).65

The efficacy of Philodemus’ system of communal exhortation is built upon the ability of Epicurean teachers to distinguish between two types of students: the weak and the strong. The weak (ἁπαλοί), variously described as obedient students and pupils insecure in philosophy, receive correction that is of a gentler and milder kind than their stronger compatriots (the ἰσχυροί), who are disobedient, recalcitrant, and

64 Philodemus, Lib. frgs. 40-42, 49, encourages students to voluntarily disclose errors. In fr. 50, Philodemus commends those who report others’ errors to the teachers. And in frgs. 11, 13, 14, Philodemus describes the teacher who observes the wrongdoings of his students. See Clarence E. Glad, Paul and Philodemus: Adaptability in Epicurean and Early Christian Psychagogy (NovTSup 81; Atlanta: SBL, 1995), 128-130, for further discussion regarding these three dimensions of communal correctional practice.

65 See Glad, Paul and Philodemus, 130-132, 152-160, for a more in-depth discussion of the wise man’s need for correction; cf. Nussbaum, Therapy, 13-47.

116 irascible (Lib. fr. 7).66 Referring to the actions of an ideal Epicurean teacher, Philodemus writes: “toward those stronger than the tender ones and those somewhat more in need of treatment, he intensifies {frankness}, and toward the strong who will scarcely change {even} if they are shouted at, he will also employ the harsh form of frankness”

(Lib. fr. 7 [Konstan et al.]). Success in correction of students’ faults, according to

Philodemus, depends upon a correct evaluation of students’ dispositions (Lib. fr. 10).

In addition to acts of confession and correction, Epicureans are encouraged to study and commit to memory a compendium of Epicurean doctrine. This includes a series of forty aphorisms known as Epicurus’ Principal Doctrines (κύριαι δόξαι or τὰ

κυριώτατα).67 Among these pithy summations of wisdom is the central Epicurean tenet,

“Death is nothing to us; for the body, when it has been resolved into its elements, has no feeling, and that which has no feeling is nothing to us” (Diogenes Laertius 10.139

[Hicks]).68 An Epicurean’s memorization of these maxims serves several purposes.

66 Glad, Paul and Philodemus, 137, provides a characterization of these types of students, noting on pp. 67-68 that differentiation among types or dispositions of students is common among post-Hellenistic moralists.

67 These maxims are laid out in full in Diogenes Laertius 10.139-154. Many other sources also attest to their existence and popularity in antiquity; see, for example, Cicero, Fin. 2.7. Tsouna, Ethics, 19, describes the cardinal tenets of the “Principle Doctrines.”

68 Other maxims include: “No pleasure is in itself evil, but the things which produce certain pleasures entail annoyances many times greater than the pleasures themselves” (Diogenes

117 Memorization allows students to aid themselves in moral progress in the absence of a teacher, it enables a student to more easily grasp the general contours of Epicureanism, and it forces students to internalize Epicurus’ teachings (Diogenes Laertius 10.35-36).69

Epicurean moral progress, then, requires a non-rational awareness of human nature, practical reasoning, the ability to keep certain desires in check, and participation in community exercises of confession and correction. An individual who wishes to begin the process of moral betterment must first recognize that any actions and beliefs not directed at the alleviation of pain are inconsequential, and often detrimental, to the acquisition of pleasure and virtue.70 He must then, through an exercise of his reason and his non-rational awareness of nature, gradually come to recognize the true nature of pleasure and pain. He must learn how to navigate the pleasures and pains presented to him in order that he may ultimately achieve static pleasure. He must also become adept at differentiating between natural and necessary desires, natural but not necessary desires, and empty desires, for selecting natural and

Laertius 10.141 [Hicks]) and “of all the means which are procured by wisdom to ensure happiness throughout the whole of life, by far the most important is the acquisition of friends” (Diogenes Laertius 10.148 [Hicks]). See also Epicurus’ VS, some of which are identical to the Principle Doctrines.

69 See also Nussbaum, Therapy, 132-3.

70 Bobzien, “Moral responsibility,” 223.

118 necessary desires is the only way to achieve a consistent state of tranquility and painlessness. Along the way he will learn maxims and pithy teachings that allow him to guide himself toward pleasure. He will also surround himself with like-minded friends who can encourage and admonish him toward moral perfection.

Once an Epicurean reaches fully wise status, he will retain his perfect character if he can help it, remaining in a constant state of pleasure even on the rack.71 Because he is in full possession of the present moment, he fears nothing, not even death, and does not rely on the future. Fully attuned to nature and his sensations, the sage will actually be more susceptible to true emotions than other humans. He will value his friends in a way that others cannot, feeling gratitude toward them and even displaying a willingness to die for them. He will also possess correct knowledge regarding the gods, setting up votive images and taking delight in state festivals. And though he is cautioned against falling in love, marrying, and rearing a family, he may do so if special circumstances require it (Diogenes Laertius 10.117-120; Cicero, Fin. 1.62, 68).

In the end Epicureans and Stoics would agree on a few, basic ethical rules.

Adherents of both schools view the attainment of virtue as a necessary condition for the achievement of happiness. Both Epicureans and Stoics believe that humans are

71 The possibility of moral regression for the Epicurean wise man, however small, is in direct contrast to the wise Stoic, who will never again regress to his formerly vice-ridden state.

119 naturally inclined toward happiness and virtue, and both groups of philosophers aver that humans must use their reason to spur themselves toward this goal. Stoics and

Epicureans also agree that moral progress involves the development of a human’s entire soul. Yet there also exist fundamental differences between Stoic and Epicurean ethical theories. While Stoics technically progress toward virtue, becoming fully wise in an instant, Epicureans progress in virtue toward tranquility. And while virtue and reason are paramount to Stoics, they are only a means to an end for the Epicureans.

Moreover, though both Epicureans and Stoics promote the idea that emotions based on false beliefs are inimical to happiness, they disagree over the extent to which emotions, both true and false, are controlled by reason. Friends are clearly valuable to philosophers on both sides of the divide, but the sectarian nature of Epicurean communal exhortation is far more pronounced than that of the Stoics. In what is certainly a generalization, then, but nonetheless helpful in grasping the essential differences of these two philosophical schools, the Stoic account of moral progress is highly ordered and cognitively-based, whereas the Epicurean account of moral progress is less rigorously conceived and places far more faith in instinctual human nature.

120 Middle Platonic Moral Progress: Becoming Like God

Throughout his corpus of dialogues, Plato repeatedly associates humans’ acquisition of virtue with the process of becoming like God. In Theaet. 176B Socrates asserts that humans ought to escape from earth as quickly as possible in order to flee evil, explaining to Theodorus: “Flight is becoming like God (ὁμοίωσις θεῷ), so far as this is possible; and becoming like God is to become just and holy, with practical intelligence (δίκαιον καὶ ὅσιον μετὰ φρονήσεως).”72 Socrates exclaims in Resp. 613A-B that that person will never be neglected “who is willing and eager to be just and by pursuing virtue (ἐπιτηδεύων ἀρετὴν) to become like God (ὁμοιοῦσθαι θεῷ) in so far as it is possible for a human.”73 And Timaeus, in the Platonic dialogue owing its name to him, speaks of the immortal and divine fate of the sage:

If a person has seriously devoted himself to the love of learning (φιλομαθίαν) and to true practical intelligence (τὰς ἀληθεῖς φρονήσεις), if he has exercised these aspects of himself above all, then there is absolutely no way that his thoughts can fail to be immortal and divine, should truth come within his grasp. And to the extent that human nature (ἀνθρωπίνῃ φύσει) can partake of immortality, he can in no way fail to achieve this: constantly caring for his divine part as he does, keeping well-ordered the guiding daemon (δαίμονα) that lives within

72 This passage later becomes the standard reference employed by Middle Platonists in describing their ultimate end.

73 The phrase “inasmuch as/so far as it is possible for man,” common to Plato’s renderings of this doctrine in both the Theaet. and the Resp., is interpreted in a variety of ways by Platonists. See Dillon, Middle Platonists, 123; and David Sedley, “The Ideal of Godlikeness,” in Plato 2: Ethics, Politics, Religion and the Soul (ORP; New York: Oxford University Press, 1999), 321.

121 him, he must indeed be supremely happy. (90B-C [Zeyl, Complete Works, slightly modified])74

Despite the linkage that Plato repeatedly posits between the possession of virtue and divine status, however, neither Plato nor his immediate successors explicitly identify assimilation to God as the ultimate goal of life.75 Centuries after Plato’s death, however, devotees of Plato belonging to the scholastic period known as Middle Platonism begin to equate Godlikeness with the final end toward which humans should strive.76 By the advent of Roman imperial rule, Middle Platonists firmly equate the apogee of the virtuous life with divine assimilation (Philo, Fug. 63; Plutarch, Sera num. 550D-E; Albinus,

74 Traces of this theme of divine assimilation may also be found in Phaed. 82A-B; Leg. 715E- 718C; Symp. 207C-209E; and Phaedr. 252C-253C. Both Annas, Platonic Ethics, 56, 60; and Sedley, “The Ideal of Godlikeness,” 310-11, 315, discuss these additional passages.

75 Cf. Diogenes Laertius 3.78.

76 Scholars typically attribute our earliest citation of Platonists’ ultimate goal as ὁμοίωσις θεῷ to Eudorus, a Platonist philosopher of the first century BCE. Yet the layers of transmission covering the pertinent passage – from the work of the fifth-century CE Stobaeus, following the Stoic philosopher Arius Didymus – make it difficult to positively attribute the claim. The pertinent excerpt from Stobaeus reads: “Socrates and Plato agree with Pythagoras that the telos is assimilation to God. Plato defined this more clearly by adding: ‘according as is possible,’ and it is only possible by wisdom, that is to say, as a result of virtue” (Stobaeus, Ecl. 2.7.3f [Dillon]). On various positions regarding the attribution of this quote, cf. Dillon, Middle Platonists, 122, 437-438; van Kooten, Paul’s Anthropology, 141-142; and Mauro Bonazzi, “Eudorus’ Psychology and Stoic Ethics,” in Platonic Stoicism – Stoic Platonism: The Dialogue between Platonism and Stoicism in Antiquity (ed. M. Bonazzi and C. Helmig; Leuven: Leuven University Press, 2007), 109-132.

122 Prol. 5, Alcinous, Epit. 28; Apuleius, Dogm. Plat. 2.23.252-3).77 In this section I focus primarily on Middle Platonists’ ideas about the steps necessary to achieve virtue and assimilation with God, since, as noted at the start of this chapter, the differences between early Platonism (as represented by the Skeptical Academy) and Middle

Platonism make it difficult to write of general Platonic theories.78 That being said, in what follows I also describe Plato’s own views regarding moral progress. An understanding of Plato’s thought is necessary for an understanding of Middle Platonic thought, for Middle Platonists consider themselves the rightful inheritors and expositors of Plato’s wisdom.79

In their attempts to assimilate to the mediating God of the heavens, whom they consider to be immaterial, Middle Platonists are faced with the problem of their souls’

77 For an extensive list of those works which attest to the Platonic end as divine assimilation (including Stobaeus, Diogenes Laertius, and Cicero), see Harold Tarrant, “Moral Goal and Moral Virtues in Middle Platonism,” in Greek and Roman Philosophy 100 BC – 200 AD (ed. R. W. Sharples and R. Sorabji; vol. 2; BICSSup 94; London: University of London, 2007), 419-422. See also van Kooten, Paul’s Anthropology in Context, 124-181.

78 On the notable shift in Platonic conceptions of the ultimate goal of life after the end of the Skeptical Academy, see Dillon, Middle Platonists, 43-44; Annas, Platonic Ethics, 53.

79 For a decent overview and analysis of Plato’s own ideas about moral development, see Michael Cormack, Plato’s Stepping Stones: Degrees of Moral Virtue (CSAP; New York: Continuum, 2006).

123 embodiment.80 Plato famously attributes corrupt emotions, desires, and other vicious maladies to humans’ fleshly and embodied existence. On the other hand, Plato attributes virtue to the rational part of the soul, which is immaterial and divine. When the virtuous soul is implanted into the mortal body, Plato claims, it fractures. This results in humans’ possession of a tripartite soul that consists of a rational soul-part (τὸ

λογιστικόν) and two non-rational soul-parts, the spirited portion (τὸ θυμοειδής) and the appetitive portion (τὸ ἐπιθυμητικόν) (Resp. 434D-441C).81 A human’s rational soul- part remains aligned with virtue, wisdom, and the divine. His non-rational soul-parts, however, because they are the direct result of the soul’s embodiment, give rise to the corrupt emotions and desires associated with the fleshly body (e.g. pleasure, pain, rashness, fear, and non-rational sensations) (Tim. 42A-B, 69C-70C). Thus, while the soul of a human remains in the body, a human cannot fully achieve virtue. Plato’s Socrates explains the dangerous predicament of humans’ embodiment in the Phaedo:

80 Middle Platonists believe that one assimilates to the mediating god in the heavens, rather than the supreme One, the deity that resides above the heavens (Alcinous, Epit. 28.3; Philo, Opif. 144-6; ibid., Conf. 146-148).

81 See also Alcinous, Epit. 24.1-4; and Diogenes Laertius 3.90. The notion of a tripartite soul is distinctly Platonic. As discussed earlier in the chapter, Stoics believe in a unified soul, and Epicureans conceive of a bipartite soul, divided into rational and non-rational parts. I do not mean to imply that philosophers associated with other philosophical traditions were never attracted to the theory of a tripartite soul (see Annas, Platonic Ethics, 129-130, on the views of the Stoic Chrysippus); rather, I simply mean to say that the notion of a tripartite soul is typically associated with Platonism.

124 So long as we have the body (τὸ σῶμα), and the soul (ἡ ψυχή) is contaminated by such an evil, we shall never attain completely what we desire, that is, the truth. For the body keeps us constantly busy by reason of its need for sustenance; and moreover, if diseases come upon it they hinder our pursuit of the truth. And the body fills us with erotic love and desires and fears (ἐρώτων δὲ καὶ ἐπιθυμιῶν καὶ φόβων), and all sorts of fancies and foolishness, so that, as they say, it really and truly makes it impossible for us to think at all…. If we are ever to know anything absolutely, we must be free from the body and must behold the actual realities with the eye of the soul alone. And then, as our argument shows, when we are dead we are likely to possess the practical intelligence (φρονήσεως) which we desire and claim to be enamored of, but not while we live.... And while we live, we shall, I think, be nearest to knowledge when we avoid, so far as possible, intercourse and communion with the body, except what is absolutely necessary, and are not filled with its nature, but keep ourselves pure from it until God himself sets us free. And in this way, freeing ourselves from the foolishness of the body and being pure (καθαροὶ ἀπαλλαττόμενοι τῆς τοῦ σώματος ἀφροσύνης), we shall, I think, be with the pure and shall know of ourselves all that is pure, – and that is, perhaps, the truth. (66B-67B [Fowler, slightly modified])

Here Plato recommends that the progressing person practice removing his soul from communion with the body, inasmuch as such a feat is possible while living.82 Plato elsewhere recommends, however, that alternative measures be taken with respect to the body in order to enable a human to increase in virtue while embodied. Plato recommends that the progressing person learn to tame and control the body through education; he also recommends that body and soul be exercised in conjunction with

82 See also Resp. 611B-D; Phaed. 82D-83C.

125 one another so that they may remain evenly matched (Tim. 87D-88B).83 Thus, although

Plato consistently devalues and decries embodiment, he recommends divergent ways in which the progressing person might deal with this inescapable facet of his existence.

Plato also often wavers in his recommendations regarding the progressing human’s involvement in worldly affairs. In Phaed. 82A-B and Theaet. 176A-B, Plato’s

Socrates views assimilation to God as fundamentally otherworldly. Becoming like God does not entail helping others to improve their moral and intellectual condition, or dealing with good and evil in this world, but rather escaping from and transcending this earthly realm. In Resp. 613A-B and Leg. 715E-718C, however, Plato claims that divine assimilation necessarily requires assisting others in their quests for virtue and participating in the affairs of the world. Plato thus bequeaths to his intellectual inheritors two ostensibly incompatible strands of Platonic thought: assimilation to God as an escape from this world and becoming like God as an investment in this earthly realm.84 As Julia Annas effectively demonstrates, however, Plato’s Middle Platonist

83 Gabriela Roxana Carone, Plato’s Cosmology and its Ethical Dimensions (New York: Cambridge University Press, 2005), 59-62.

84 Annas, Platonic Ethics, 54-65, thoughtfully illuminates the differences that modern scholars perceive between these passages in the Theaet., Phaed., Resp., and Leg.; it is her discussion of these passages to which I am heavily indebted here. Sedley, “Ideal of Godlikeness,” 322-323, also explores the tensions present in Plato’s various exhortations to divine assimilation by considering whether or not the cognitive state achieved by godlikeness

126 successors do not find these inconsistencies troubling.85 Certainly aware of Plato’s varied recommendations, Middle Platonists nonetheless interpret these incongruences as varying hermeneutic approaches to a single, unified idea. At the start of his handbook on Platonism, for example, the Middle Platonist Alcinous integrates Plato’s otherworldly and earthly-oriented ethical emphases by encouraging retreat into one’s intellect while also allowing for action within the mortal sphere. “It is proper…for the philosopher by no means to abandon contemplation, but always to foster and develop this, turning to the practical life only as something secondary” (Epit. 2.2-3 [Dillon]).

Stobaeus also preserves an excerpt of Middle Platonist origin which harmonizes Plato’s accounts of divine assimilation: the passage avers that becoming like God is described from a logical view in the Theaetetus, from an ethical perspective in the Republic, and from the standpoint of physics in the Timaeus (Ecl. 2.7.3).86

The flexibility and malleability of the Platonic tradition inherited by the Middle

Platonists should be manifestly clear at this point. Plato certainly associates the

is essentially moral or purely intellectual; he suggests that Plotinus may have been correct in interpreting Plato’s doctrine of divine assimilation as one that involves intellectual ascent. Cf. Elizabeth F. Cooke, “The Moral and Intellectual Development of the Philosopher in Plato’s Republic,” Ancient Philosophy 19 (Spring 1999): 37-44, who asserts that Plato views morality as inseparable from intellect.

85 Annas, Platonic Ethics, 63.

86 See Sedley, “Ideal of Godlikeness,” 327; and van Kooten, Paul’s Anthropology, 145.

127 acquisition of virtue with assimilation to God, and he certainly devalues the fleshly human body and matter in general. Yet Plato’s recommendations for achieving virtue and immortality, and for dealing with the obstacles of embodiment and earthly existence, are often inconsistent. Despite these contradictions, it is crucial to keep in mind that the Middle Platonists themselves view these inconsistencies not as contradictory or competing, but as various expressions of one overarching and unified framework.

Reason plays an important role in the divine assimilation of Middle Platonists, just as it figures prominently in the Stoic and Epicurean processes of moral development. Yet the precise role of reason in Middle Platonist conceptions of moral progress diverges sharply from Stoic and Epicurean conceptions. This difference is directly attributable to the Middle Platonist conception of the embodied, tripartite soul.

Plato claims that a human’s non-rational soul-parts have wants and desires that directly contradict the wants and desires of a human’s rational soul-part. As a human progresses in virtue, the rational principle begins to rule the rest of the soul. The spirited portion subjects itself to reason, and together the rational and spirited

128 portions of the soul tame the appetitive principle (Resp. 441E-442A).87 Then, upon the acquisition of virtue,

One who is just does not allow any part of himself to do the work of another part or allow the various classes within him to meddle with each other. He regulates well what is really his own and rules himself. He puts himself in order, is his own friend, and harmonizes the three parts of himself like three limiting notes in a musical scale – high, low, and middle. He binds together those parts and any others there may be in between, and from having been many things he becomes entirely one, moderate and harmonious. Only then does he act. (Resp. 443D-E [Grube and Reeve, Complete Works])

Thus Plato represents reason as a controlling principle that masters the spirited and appetitive portions in order to achieve harmony of the soul.88 The Platonist idea that reason dominates or controls a divided soul is quite unlike Stoic and Epicurean notions regarding reason’s function. Stoics do not conceive of reason as dominating or controlling a divided soul because they believe the soul to be completely rational and unified. Disorder and dysfunction within the soul and body of the progressing Stoic arises from false beliefs that corrupt the reasoning faculty, not from non-rational soul- parts. Epicureans do not conceive of reason as dominating or controlling the divided soul because they imagine a human whose rational and non-rational soul-parts exist in

87 See also Alcinous, Epit. 29.3.

88 Annas, Platonic Ethics, 117-136, explores Middle Platonists’ reaction to the tension present in Plato’s Resp. between the notion of the rational faculty as a controlling principle and the notion of the rational faculty as harmonizing with the non-rational parts of the soul.

129 symbiosis. The notion that reason must control and tame the non-rational portions of the soul in order for a human to progress in virtue, therefore, is a distinctly Platonic idea and depends upon belief in a divided and embattled soul.89

How exactly does a Middle Platonist bring his soul’s non-rational portions under the control of his rational faculty? How does a Middle Platonist unify and harmonize his soul in order to achieve virtue? For Plato, the process of moral progress occurs in two successive stages: the “habituative phase” and the “rational phase.”90 In the habituative phase, which Plato aligns with the training of the guardians in the ideal republic, the spirited and appetitive portions of the human soul are habituated.

Through training in activities such as music and gymnastics, the spirited and appetitive parts of the soul learn conformity and obedience.91 Not all humans, though, are equally capable of taming the non-rational portions of their souls. Humans’ abilities to advance through this first stage of moral progress are dependent upon their inborn natures:

89 Gill, Structured Self, 134-138.

90 Termed so by Gill, Structured Self, 134.

91 Plato, Resp. 376C-412B, outlines the training of the guardians (and thus the taming of the appetitive and spirited portions of the soul); see Annas, Platonic Ethics, 72-95, for an illuminating discussion of the status of the ethical dimensions of the Resp. (as opposed to the political interpretation of this dialogue.)

130 they must be innately “philosophical, high-spirited, swift-footed, and strong.”92 This is another critical difference between Stoic and Epicurean conceptions of moral progress, on the one hand, and Platonic conceptions, on the other. Stoics and Epicureans assert that all humans are born with the innate ability to progress toward virtue, whereas

Plato and his Middle Platonist successors claim that only some humans possess the natural endowments required for moral perfection.93

After a human’s appetites and desires have been tamed in the first phase of moral progress, he is free to advance to the second, and final, stage of moral development: the rational phase. The training of the rational part of the soul is achieved, according to Plato, through the study of geometry, astrology, dialectic, and the like.94 The critical and creative thinking fostered by these disciplines helps to perfect a human’s reason, and this development of the rational part of the soul is not possible until a human’s appetites and desires have been controlled.95 The two-step process of moral progress laid out in Plato’s Resp. is echoed in Alcinous’ second century

Middle Platonist handbook, though Alcinous’ description, as one might expect, lacks

92 Plato, Resp. 376C.

93 Gill, Structured Self, 137.

94 Plato, Resp. 521C-540A.

95 Cooke, “Moral and Intellectual Development,” 38, 40.

131 the detail and complexity of the process described in Plato’s monumental work.

Alcinous recalls basic Middle Platonic doctrine regarding the two-step process of moral progress:

We can attain likeness to God, first of all, if we are endowed with a suitable nature, then if we develop proper habits, way of life, and good practice according to law, and, most importantly, if we use reason, education, and the correct philosophical tradition, in such a way as to distance ourselves from the great majority of human concerns, and always to be in close contact with intelligible reality. The introductory ceremonies, so to speak, and preliminary purifications of our innate spirit, if one is to be initiated into the greater sciences, will be constituted by music, arithmetic, astronomy, and geometry, while at the same time we must care for our body by means of gymnastics, which will prepare the body properly for the demands of both war and peace. (Epit. 28.4 [Dillon])96

According to Alcinous, a human must first possess natural characteristics that enable him to progress in virtue. Training and habituation in music, arithmetic, astronomy, geometry, and gymnastics will then develop that virtuous inclination, and the cultivation of reason will enable a human to develop further in virtue. The three major factors that Alcinous believes affect a Middle Platonist’s ability to progress in virtue – nature (φύσις), training (ἄσκησις), and teaching (διδασκαλία) – figure prominently in

Middle Platonist programs of moral progress and can ultimately be traced back to

96 Alcinous also states in Epit. 24.4 that reason is cultivated through teaching, while the appetitive portion of the soul is developed through the cultivation of habitual behavior.

132 Plato’s dialogues.97 Indeed, the opening lines of Plato’s Meno bring these very issues to the fore: “Can you tell me, Socrates, whether virtue can be taught, or is acquired by practice, not teaching? Or if neither by practice nor by learning, whether it comes to mankind by nature or in some other way” (70A [Lamb])?

It is important to note that teaching, the third factor that influences a progressing Middle Platonist’s ability to achieve virtue, presupposes the idea that some humans are farther along in their moral development than others.98 In order to teach others how to tame the non-rational parts of their souls and develop their reason, a person must be more advanced in virtue and wisdom than those whom he seeks to instruct. That some people achieve greater virtue in life than others is asserted by Plato in Phaedr. 248D-249B. Here Plato describes the various fates of souls that are re- embodied after being subjected to punishment for their previous wrongdoings. Those souls that once lived extremely virtuous lives will, upon embodiment, become philosophers. Slightly less virtuous souls will become law-abiding kings, military commanders, and civic leaders. Plato describes nine such levels of fate, ending with the

97 Tarrant, “Moral Goal,” 424-429.

98 See also Plato, Prot. 323D-324D, 325C-326E, regarding the fact that virtue is taught, not innate.

133 proclamation that the least virtuous of souls will be re-embodied as tyrants.99 The particulars of these fates, however, do not concern us here. What is of interest for the purposes of this discussion, rather, is Plato’s idea that there is great differentiation amongst humans with respect to the amount of virtue that they achieve in life.

With respect to the point at which a progressing human achieves virtue, Middle

Platonists espouse views that are in direct contrast with their Stoic contemporaries. As mentioned in the prior section regarding Stoic moral progress, a Stoic progresses toward virtue. A Middle Platonist, however, progresses in virtue. The Middle Platonists, though, do distinguish between the virtue of a man progressing (imperfect virtue) and the virtue of the wise man (perfect virtue).100 Additionally, the typical Middle Platonic stance toward corrupt emotion (πάθη) is different from the Stoic stance. Like the

Peripatetics, Middle Platonists often recommend moderation of the corrupt emotions

(μετριοπάθεια). Rather than advocating an eradication of the corrupt emotions, as do

99 Plato lists many other groups of people (beyond the highest orders of philosophers, kings, military commanders, and civic leaders) that are distinguished from one another with respect to the amount of virtue acquired in previous lives. These include, in descending order with respect to their association with virtue: politicians, estate-managers, lovers of gymnastics, prophets, initiators into mystery cults, artists, farmers, sophists, and demagogues. The association of virtue with elite social status and intellect in this schema is remarkable, but not entirely surprising.

100 Dillon, Middle Platonists, 301-303, 330-332.

134 the Stoics, the Middle Platonists insist that emotions should be tamed and controlled.101

This difference between the typical Stoic and the typical Middle Platonic approach to the corrupt emotions is rooted in the differences between these school’s theories of the soul. For the Stoics, all corrupt emotions arise from false beliefs because the Stoic soul is entirely rational. False beliefs are eradicated through reason, and thus corrupt emotions can and should be entirely stamped out by the Stoic sage. For the Middle

Platonist, however, not all corrupt emotions arise from false beliefs – some arise from the non-rational portions of the soul. Emphasis on moderation is rooted, unsurprisingly, in Plato’s conception of a tripartite soul. Because not all emotions arise from false beliefs (and thus cannot be eradicated by reason), management of the corrupt emotions is a far more feasible approach than eradication. Yet not all Middle

Platonists strictly subscribe to this view. In the case of Philo and Plutarch, as we shall see later, μετριοπάθεια is sometimes championed alongside ἀπάθεια. Indeed, this flexibility within the Middle Platonic tradition arises out of the malleability of Plato’s

101 Middle Platonists such as Alcinous (Epit. 30.5, 32) support μετριοπάθεια.

135 own thought – even Plato advocates both moderation and eradication of the corrupt emotions.102

The Middle Platonic system of moral progress that I have constructed here has some basic similarities with the processes of moral progress advocated by Stoics and

Epicureans. Like Stoics and Epicureans, Middle Platonists aver that the acquisition of virtue typically occurs gradually and incrementally over time. Middle Platonists also claim, like Stoics and Epicureans, that moral progress requires the exercise of reason, that the vast majority of emotions are considered inimical to moral progress, and that some humans are closer than others to achieving perfect wisdom. Those aspects of

Middle Platonist moral progress which set the Middle Platonists apart from Stoics and

Epicureans, however, include: the association of humans’ ultimate goal with becoming like God, belief in reason’s ability to dominate the non-rational portions of the soul, insistence on the moderation of emotions, and the assertion that not all humans are naturally inclined toward moral betterment. Moreover, and perhaps most importantly for the purposes of this dissertation, the ethical views of Plato and the Middle

Platonists are extremely flexible and malleable in comparison to the ethical views of

Stoics and Epicureans. Plato tends to present many sides of certain issues and does not

102 John M. Dillon, “Metriopatheia and Apatheia: Some Reflections on a Controversy in Greek Ethics,” in Essays in Ancient Greek Philosophy (vol. 2; ed. J. P. Anton and A. Preus; Albany: SUNY Press, 1983): 508.

136 always resolve internal contradictions. This, as we shall see, allows the Middle

Platonists Philo and Plutarch great flexibility in crafting their own programs of moral progress.

137

CHAPTER THREE

Philosophers’ Programs of Moral Progress in Early Imperial Rome

As the burgeoning republic of Rome hastened its expansion into the

Mediterranean sea and its surrounding lands during the second and first centuries BCE, a transformation of Hellenistic philosophy was underway. Philosophers began to trade their residences in Athens for abodes in other parts of the Mediterranean, often settling in the aristocratic houses of patrons. The occasional departure of sages from

Athens accelerated into mass exodus following Sulla’s sack of the city in 86 BCE during the First Mithridatic War. 1 Practical ethics became the fulcrum around which philosophy pivoted, interest in the foundational texts and figures of philosophy increased, and intellectuals such as the statesman Cicero worked, in the Latin language, to adapt Hellenistic philosophy to its new, Roman context.2

1 Frede, “Epilogue,” 790-792; and Sedley, “Decentralisation of philosophy,” 32-35, detail the decline of Athens’ philosophical scene at the end of the second century and the beginning of the first century BCE, pinpointing Sulla’s destruction of Athens in 86 CE as a decisive catalyst for philosophers’ abandonment of the city.

2 Brad Inwood, Reading Seneca: Stoic Philosophy at Rome (New York: Oxford University Press, 2005), 7-22, discusses the adaptation of Hellenistic philosophy to its Roman context and the

138 In this chapter I will examine the programs of moral progress espoused by three prolific and influential philosophers whose work contributed to this fashioning of

Roman philosophy from the first century BCE through the second century CE: Philo of

Alexandria, Seneca the Younger, and Plutarch of Chaeronea.3 In reconstructing the schemas of moral development proposed by these rough contemporaries of Paul, I argue two main points.4 First, I argue that the thought of the Jewish philosopher Philo

ways in which this adaptation impinged and imprinted upon Seneca’s work. Reydams-Schils, The Roman Stoics, 3, 9, 28; and Frede, “Epilogue,” 779-781, discuss Roman Stoics’ emphasis on the practice side of ethics, which led to an increased interest in the signs of moral progress, free will, and the psychological self-control necessary for moral progress.

3 Like many scholars before me, I have chosen to examine the thoughts of Philo of Alexandria (ca. 15 BCE-45 CE) because of his temporal and ethnic proximity to Paul. Both intellectuals lived during the first half of the first century CE, and both were Jews. Additionally, the symbiotic relationship between Hellenistic philosophy and authoritative Jewish texts in Philo’s treatises provides an illuminating analogue to Paul’s use of philosophical concepts and his reliance on Jewish scripture. In broadening my comparative data to Roman philosophy in general, I have chosen to examine the works of Seneca and Plutarch due to these figures’ prolificacy as well as their varying temporal, religious, and geographical proximities to Paul. Seneca (ca. 4-65 CE), an exact contemporary of Paul, bequeathed to posterity a large portion of ethical writings in epistolary format; this makes for an interesting comparison with Paul’s letters. Plutarch (ca. 45-120 CE), though he was roughly forty years Paul’s junior, spent the better part of his life in Chaeronea (near Corinth, the site in which Paul attempted to found an assembly of Christ-followers), serving as both a civic magistrate and a Delphic priest. The latter pursuit makes him an illuminating counterpoint to Paul. Like Seneca, Plutarch also wrote a wide variety of treatises on the topic of moral development.

4 Certainly, the fact that these three philosophers produced an enormous amount of literature over a substantial period of time should caution us against assuming, at the outset, that their ideas about moral development were static or completely consistent. As will become apparent, however, I believe that there is enough continuity throughout these intellectuals’ works to justify referring to their notions of moral progress as programs.

139 of Alexandria does not stand outside the broader rubric of Roman philosophy. Rather,

Philo’s thought constitutes one particular example of the way in which Roman philosophy of the early imperial period was conducted – and, in this case, an example of the way in which one could marry an interest in philosophy with an interest in

Jewish scripture. Recognition of the fact that Philo’s thought is inseparable from the broader category of ancient Mediterranean philosophy will pave the way for my arguments in Chapter Four, where I demonstrate that Paul’s program of moral development not only has much in common with Philo’s thought, but also with ancient

Mediterranean philosophy more broadly.

Second, in describing the ways in which the Stoic Seneca and the Middle

Platonists Philo and Plutarch work within and build upon the ethical theories of the philosophical schools with which they are affiliated, I show that the Middle Platonists

Philo and Plutarch accommodate, to a greater degree than the Stoic Seneca, concepts or views that are typically associated with competing philosophical traditions. That is, these Middle Platonists’ programs encompass a more diverse range of views about moral development than does Seneca’s program. This is likely due to the open-ended nature of Plato’s dialogues: the flexibility and diversity of Plato’s thought engenders a greater multiplicity of interpretations than do the theories promoted by founding

140 Stoics and Epicureans. These observations will have great significance for our study of

Paul in the next chapter. There I will argue that Paul’s program of moral progress most closely resembles the programs of moral development promoted by contemporary

Middle Platonists, and this is tied to Paul’s integration of a wide range of ideas into his program of moral progress.

Creative Genius, not Crafty Jackdaw: Philo on Moral Progress

Born into an elite Jewish family and trained extensively in philosophy, Philo of

Alexandria provides us a fascinating case for studying the ways in which standardized philosophical systems of moral progress were adapted and molded by intellectuals according to their own religious, philosophical, and political affiliations and experiences. 5 In past scholarship Philo’s “intermingling” of various Hellenistic philosophical theories and the scriptural stories of Jews has led to a denouncement of

Philo’s thought as incoherently eclectic. Perhaps most famous of these denunciations is

E. R. Dodds’ insistence that Philo be compared to a loquacious, thieving jackdaw rather

5 For an accessible narration of Philo’s life, including an analysis of his family’s ties to the Herodian and Julio-Claudian dynasties and his involvement in the embassy to Gaius Caligula on behalf of the Alexandrian Jews, see Daniel R. Schwartz, “Philo, His Family, and His Times,” in The Cambridge Companion to Philo (ed. Adam Kamesar; New York: Cambridge University Press, 2009), 9-31.

141 than the sages of his day.6 Yet Philo does not consider his adherence to the Jewish God and his high valuation of Jewish scriptures to be in any way at odds with his philosophizing, and his philosophical genius was considered by later Roman intellectuals to be on par with that of other illustrious sages.7 We must therefore resist both the urge to pejoratively label Philo’s thought as “eclectic” and the desire to view his various religious and philosophical affiliations as contradictory or competing.8 Philo

6 Though I sympathize greatly with the frustration lurking behind Dodds’ claim that “Any attempt to extract a coherent system from Philo seems to me foredoomed to failure; his eclecticism is that of the jackdaw rather than the philosopher” [“The Parmenides of Plato and the Origin of the Neoplatonic ‘One’,” CQ 22.3/4 (1928), 132 n.1], it is necessary to acknowledge that Dodds’ accusation has been finely refuted by scholars such as David Runia, “The Rehabilitation of the Jackdaw: Philo of Alexandria and Ancient Philosophy,” in Greek and Roman Philosophy 100 BC – 200 AD (vol. 2; ed. R.W. Sharples and R. Sorabji; CITY: Institute of Classical Studies, 2007), 483-500.

7 Jerome (Vir. Ill. 11) records a Greek proverb regarding Philo’s philosophical genius that circulated during his day: ἢ Πλάτων φιλωνίζει, ἢ Φίλων πλατωνίζει (“Either Plato philonized, or Philo platonized”).

8 From the 19th century until the last few decades of the 20th century, the labeling of Roman philosophy in general as “eclectic” has carried largely negative connotations; most historians and philosophers followed Eduard Zeller in pronouncing that ancient Roman philosophers’ eclecticism was borne out of their lack of creativity and intelligence. Within the last generation, however, many scholars have deemed the labeling of Roman imperial philosophy as “eclectic” as inaccurate and unsatisfactory. The benchmark publication promoting this view remains a series of essays compiled by John M. Dillon and A. A. Long entitled The Question of “Eclecticism”: Studies in Later Greek Philosophy (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1988). For a more recent consideration of the inadequacies of the label “eclecticism,” see Christopher Gill, “School in the Roman Imperial Period,” in The Cambridge Companion to the Stoics (ed. B. Inwood; New York: Cambridge University Press, 2003), 44-50. For more on the history of the term eclecticism as applied to ancient philosophy, see the helpful reconstructions of Pierluigi Donini, “The history of the concept of eclecticism,” in The Question of “Eclecticism”: Studies in Later Greek

142 was a great many things – prolific writer, staunch defender of Jews, devotee of Plato’s

Socrates, and Stoic sympathizer – and we cannot hope to appreciate the complexity, ingeniousness, and, ultimately, the historical contingency of Philo’s thought by claiming that any one of these identities or affiliations is at odds with the others. Thus, for the purpose of analysis in what follows, I separate out for the reader certain aspects of Philo’s thought that parallel ideas found in Middle Platonic ethics, Stoic ethics, and/or Jewish scripture while emphasizing that Philo himself considers these aspects of his thought inseparable from one another.9

Philo’s descriptions of the ultimate goal of life have parallels in Middle Platonic ethics, Stoic ethics, and Jewish scripture. In one treatise Philo outlines a τέλος that aligns well with Stoic ethical theory, but also contains elements amenable to ideas found in Middle Platonic ethics and Jewish scripture:

Philosophy, (ed. J. M. Dillon and A. A. Long; Berkeley: University of California Press, 1988), 15-33; and Myrto Hatzimichali, Potamo of Alexandria and the Emergence of Eclecticism in Late Hellenistic Philosophy (New York: Cambridge University Press, 2011), 9-24.

9 For a categorization of possible approaches to the classification of Philo in relation to Greek philosophy, see David T. Runia, “Was Philo a Middle Platonist? A difficult question revisited,” StPhAnn 5 (1993): 125. For more on the topic of Philo’s relationship to Middle Platonism, see the multiple articles that accompany Runia’s piece: G. E. Sterling, “Platonizing Moses: Philo and Middle Platonism,” StPhAnn 5 (1993): 96-111; D. Winston, “Response to Runia and Sterling,” StPhAnn 5 (1993): 141-146; T.H. Tobin, “Was Philo a Middle Platonist? Some suggestions,” StPhAnn 5 (1993): 147-150; and J. Dillon, “A Response to Runia and Sterling,” StPhAnn 5 (1993): 151-155. Cf. Jaap Mansfeld, “Philosophy in the service of Scripture: Philo’s exegetical strategies,” in The Question of “Eclecticism”: Studies in Later Greek Philosophy (ed. J. M. Dillon and A. A. Long; Berkeley: University of California Press, 1988), 70-102.

143 And this is the end (τέλος) which is celebrated among those who study philosophy in the best manner, namely, to live in accordance with nature. And this takes place when the mind, entering into the path of virtue, treads in the steps of right reason (ὀρθοῦ λόγου), and follows God (ἕπηται θεῷ), remembering his injunctions (τῶν προστάξεων), and at all times and in all places confirming them both by word and deed. (Migr. 128 [Younge, slightly modified])

In this passage Philo, like the Stoics, claims that the goal of life is to live in accordance with nature, which in turn means exercising right reason and following God.10 (The

Stoics, after all, equate Nature with perfected reason and God.) Philo’s insistence that the ultimate end involves following God and remembering his injunctions also echoes teachings found in Jewish scripture. Moreover, Philo’s claim that the goal of life involves following God echoes Middle Platonic ideas about divine assimilation. Indeed,

Philo elsewhere asserts that humans should not only follow God in pursuing the τέλος, but also should assimilate themselves to the divine:

[The first human] was closely related and akin to the Director (ἡγεμόνος), because the divine πνεῦμα had flowed into him in ample measure, and so all his words and actions were undertaken in order to please the Father and King, in whose footsteps he followed along the highways that the virtues mark out, because only those souls are permitted to approach him who consider the goal of their existence (τέλος) to be assimilation to the God who brought them forth (τὴν πρὸς τὸν γεννήσαντα θεὸν ἐξομοίωσιν). (Opif. 144 [Runia])

10 Cf. Philo, Sacr. 2.

144 In this passage, Philo upholds the Middle Platonic notion of divine assimilation as the ultimate goal of life.11 Becoming virtuous does not merely mean that a human follows

God, according to Philo; it means that a human is ontologically transformed by the divine πνεῦμα into a God-like being.12 In recommending assimilation to God as the ultimate goal of life, Philo clearly has the teachings of Plato in mind, later quoting in

Fug. 62-63 Socrates’ words in the Theaet. regarding divine assimilation. Philo also follows standard Middle Platonic ethical theory in claiming that humans’ ultimate goal is assimilation to the intermediary god, God’s λόγος, rather than to the supreme God himself (Opif. 144-6; Conf. 146-148).13 Philo’s supreme God, just like the Ineffable One of other Middle Platonists, is so completely unknowable, good, and perfect that humans can only hope to assimilate to an intermediary god.14

11 For more on the ideal of godlikeness as conceived by Philo, see Fug. 62-63 (in which Philo quotes Plato’s Theaet.); Spec. 4.187-188; Virt. 168; Migr. 127-131; Abr. 87; Decal. 100-101; and Det. 85 (in which Philo references Tim. 91E). See also Wendy E. Helleman, “Philo of Alexandria on Deification and Assimilation to God,” StPhAnn 2 (1990), 51-71.

12 See also Philo, Leg. all. 1.37-38.

13 See also van Kooten, Paul’s Anthropology in Context, 191-192.

14 Philo once refers to God’s λόγος as the second god (QG 2.62). On the vast gulf separating human nature from the High God of the Jews, see Philo, Leg. all. 2.1; Contempl. 2; Deus. 53-56; Somn. 1.73, 2.28; Roberto Radice, “Philo’s Theology and Theory of Creation,” in The Cambridge Companion to Philo (ed. Adam Kamesar; New York: Cambridge University Press, 2009), 126-128.

145 In Opif. 144 Philo also associates the first human’s godlikeness with this human’s reception of the divine πνεῦμα and a virtuous state. This has resonances with the both the creation story of Gen 1:26-27, in which the first ἄνθρωπος is made according to the image and likeness of God, and the creation story of Gen 2:7, in which God makes the

ἄνθρωπος a living soul by breathing into him the breath of life. Moreover, the connection that Philo posits between the impartation of the divine πνεῦμα and the first human’s virtuous character echoes Stoic ethical theory as well: as discussed in Chapter

Two, the Stoics believe that the πνεῦμα that constitutes the human soul becomes rarer and more divine-like as one approaches virtue.15 Philo’s descriptions of the τέλος, then, resonate with the competing philosophical traditions of Stoicism and Middle Platonism as well as with Jewish scripture, but Philo clearly considers himself to be presenting a unified and coherent account of the apogee of moral progress. For Philo, God is the most excellent nature of all, thus living naturally may be described as assimilation to

God (Fug. 172). Moreover, to live according to nature is the most venerable of statutes, and the injunctions of the Pentateuch instill and inculcate the virtues in humans. Thus

15 See pp. 100-101 of this dissertation.

146 to live according to nature is to follow God’s commandments and to live virtuously

(Abr. 6; Spec. 4.133-238; Virt.).16

As demonstrated in Chapter Two, ancient Mediterranean philosophers’ theories regarding the constitution of the soul and its relation to the body are intimately related to their theories regarding moral progress. It is thus worth investigating, at the outset,

Philo’s own understanding of the human soul and its relationship to the body. Central to Philo’s thought is the Platonic contrast between the body and soul. Like Plato, Philo associates the body with vice, corrupt emotions, and appetitive desires. He considers nothing to be a greater hindrance to virtue than humans’ fleshly bodies, and he thus urges those seeking virtue either to free their souls from the prison of the body or to use their souls to rule the body (Leg. all. 1.103-14, 3.161; Gig. 28-31; Sacr. 49; Congr. 59-60;

Fug. 58).17 Philo also follows standard Platonic theory regarding the partitioning of the human soul. Like Plato, Philo sometimes emphasizes the division of the soul into three

16 For a detailed analysis of Spec. 4.133-135, as well as a comparison of Philo’s virtues with the four cardinal virtues typically promoted by Greek philosophers, see Naomi G. Cohen, “The Greek Virtues and the Mosaic laws in Philo: an Elucidation of De Specialibus Legibus IV 133-135,” StPhAnn 5 (1993), 9-19.

17 On the importance of the body/soul distinction for Philo, and a detailed list of Philonic references regarding the contrast between the vice-inducing body and the virtue-seeking soul, see Gretchen Reydams-Schils, “Philo of Alexandria on Stoic and Platonist Psycho-Physiology: The Socratic Higher Ground,” in Philo of Alexandria and Post-Aristotelian Philosophy (ed. F. Alesse; Boston: Brill, 2008), 169-195.

147 parts (spirited, appetitive, and rational) and at other times chooses to focus on the simpler bipartite division of non-rational and rational (Leg. 1.40, 1.70-72, 2.6; Conf. 21;

Migr. 66-67; QG 1.13; Spec. 1.333, 4.92). 18 Despite his basic adherence to Platonic psychology, however, Philo occasionally uses Stoic terminology to describe the internal workings of the soul. Philo asserts that the soul is divided into seven parts, commanded in toto by the ἡγεμονικόν, and made of the divine πνεῦμα: these are the hallmarks of classic Stoic theory (Opif. 117, 135; Det. 80-84; Gig. 22-23).19 Despite this occurrence of

Stoic terminology, however, Philo does not actually support the Stoic notion of a fully unified, rational soul. Philo is primarily concerned with the struggle between soul and body and subscribes to the basically Platonic idea of a soul divisible into both rational and non-rational parts. He uses Stoic terminology in order to forcefully express the commanding nature of the rational part of the soul.20

18 Reydams-Schils, “Philo of Alexandria,” 186; and Carlos Lévy, “Philo’s Ethics,” in The Cambridge Companion to Philo (trans. A. Bronowski; ed. Adam Kamesar; New York: Cambridge University Press, 2009), 154-155, provide references to additional primary sources.

19 For an exhaustive analysis of Philo’s Stoic-like conception of the soul, see Reydams-Schils, “Philo of Alexandria,” 182-185.

20 As John Dillon, “Philo of Alexandria and Platonist Psychology,” in The Afterlife of the Platonic Soul: Reflections of Platonic Psychology in the Monotheistic Religions (ed. M. Elkaisy-Friemuth and J. M. Dillon; Boston: Brill, 2009), 20, states, both Stoic and Platonic divisions of the soul contain some aspect of truth for Philo, “but the basic principle remains the division into rational and irrational.” Reydams-Schils, “Philo of Alexandria,” 187-195, clarifies the issue, arguing that Philo primarily adheres to the Socratic position of a struggle between the soul and

148 Philo asserts that Moses, lawgiver of the Jews, best exemplifies in human form the ideals of moral perfection. Moses was the greatest, holiest, and most perfect human ever to have lived. Though Moses could never come close to attaining the divine stature of the Jews’ High God, he was as a god amongst humans while on earth, having gained knowledge of the High God directly from the uncreated One himself (Leg. all. 3.100-101;

Mos. 1.1, 2.192; Det. 132, 161-2; Sacr. 8-10; Prob. 43).21 In addition to the most perfect

Moses, Philo also considers other Jewish patriarchs to have achieved great virtue. Most notable among these figures are Isaac, Abraham, and Jacob. At multiple points throughout his works, Philo describes these biblical characters as representing various kinds of dispositions that affect a human’s ability to progress in virtue (Abr. 52-53; Migr.

28-29, 200-201; Congr. 34-38; Sacr. 5-7; Fug. 120-176). Isaac, son of Abraham, represents the most self-sufficient class of humans: namely, those individuals who discover virtue and wisdom without active seeking or instruction. Self-trained sages of this Isaac-type

body. By primarily emphasizing this body/soul contrast, which is espoused by Plato’s Socrates in the early dialogues, Philo is able to largely avoid the contradiction between the Platonic view of the tripartite soul and the Stoic view of the unified soul. Because the body/soul contrast is primary for Philo, he is more easily able to then choose whichever view of the soul that best suits his exegetical purpose.

21 For a sampling of scholarly opinions regarding Moses’ divine stature, see David Winston, “Sage and Super-sage in Philo of Alexandria,” in Pomegranates and Golden Bells: Studies in Biblical, Jewish, and Near Eastern Ritual, Law, and Literature in Honor of Jacob Milgrom (ed. D.P. Wright et al; Winona Lake, Ind.: Eisenbrauns, 1995), 815-824; and Michael Satlow, “Philo and Human Perfection,” JTSNS 59.2 (2008), 506-508.

149 strive instinctively toward virtue (that is, they possess φυσικὴ ἀρετή), and they never fail to attain perfect wisdom. Abraham symbolizes those humans who achieve virtue through instruction (διδασκαλία). For Philo such instruction comes primarily through

God, who is the ultimate guide for those who seek wisdom (Leg. all. 1.29, 38; Fug. 172;

Abr. 59). Those of the Abrahamic type may also receive instruction from human sages – sociability and love of humankind are important attributes of Philo’s sage, after all – but Philo does not emphasize the necessity of communal exhortation to the same extent as other Roman philosophers of the period (Spec. 140-142; Abr. 22, 208-216).22

Lastly, Isaac’s son Jacob represents a class of humans who achieve virtue through practice (ἄσκησις).

In detailing these types of dispositions toward virtue, Philo reminds his readers that Isaac, Abraham, and Jacob represent abstract categories: no human achieves virtue solely through natural means, instruction, or practice. Rather, in order for humans to achieve great virtue, they must combine natural inclination toward virtue, instruction in virtue, and cultivation of virtue, though some humans may incline more toward one

22 As Lévy, “Philo’s Ethics,” 166, notes, “It seems that such a figure [the human guide] is superfluous or at least secondary in Philo, since everything happens in the face-to-face encounter, so to speak, of man with God. It is not difficult to cite the names of the masters of Seneca, of Epictetus or of Marcus Aurelius, but we would be at a loss, in the vast Philonic corpus, to find the name of even one of those who taught him philosophy.”

150 of these dispositions than the others.23 It is unclear to me as to whether Philo, by speaking of a natural inclination toward virtue, intends to support the Stoic and

Epicurean claim that all humans are naturally inclined toward achieving virtue, or the typical Middle Platonic claim that natural inclination toward virtue is only possessed by some humans. Philo does assert that God created no soul that is barren of good, which would seem to indicate that he supports the Stoic and Epicurean position that all humans are capable of moral progress (Leg. all. 1.34-35).24 Yet by schematizing humans’ dispositions toward moral perfection in terms of nature, instruction, and practice,

Philo follows standard Platonic theory, and, according to this theory, not all humans possess a natural ability to achieve virtue.

Philo’s thoughts on the natural ability of humans to achieve virtue may be ambiguous, but crystal clear are his claims that some humans do not ever advance in virtue. Some humans, according to Philo, refuse to seek virtue and never discover it.

These humans have debased their reason and become blind to wisdom. Philo likens

23 There exist other dispositions of the soul that will not be discussed in detail here: for instance, Joseph is representative of those humans who set themselves on the border between human affairs and divine virtues (Migr. 158-9, 203; Jos.), Esau represents that disposition which is obstinate and ignorant in the face of virtue and wisdom (Fug. 39), and Lot represents the mind which drifts on the path leading to virtue, often inclining toward the province of sense- perception (Migr. 13, 148-149).

24 See also Philo, Fug. 121-122.

151 these ignorant humans to Lot’s wife, and also to the Israelites being led through Moab by Moses, lambasting them for their recalcitrance:

Those, then, who have no desire for either discovery or investigation have shamefully debased their reason by ignorance and indifference (ἀπαιδευσίᾳ καὶ ἀμελετησίᾳ), and though they had it in their power to see acutely, they have become blind. Thus he says that “Lot’s wife turning backwards became a pillar of salt;” not here inventing a fable, but pointing out the proper nature of the event. For whoever despises his teacher, and under the influence of an innate and habitual indolence forsakes what is in front of him, by means of which it may be in his power to see, and to hear, and to exert his other powers, so as to form a judgment in things of nature, and turns his head round so as to keep his eyes on what is behind him, that person has an admiration for blindness in the affairs of life, as well as in the parts of the body, and becomes a pillar, like a lifeless and senseless stone. For, as Moses says, “such ones have not hearts to understand, nor eyes to see, nor ears to hear,” but make the whole of their life blind, and deaf, and senseless and mutilated in every respect, so as not to be worth living, caring for none of those matters which deserve their attention. And the leader of this company is the king of the region of the body. (Fug. 121-124 [Younge, slightly modified])

Philo depicts those who have no desire for the discovery or investigation of virtue as uneducated, negligent, blind, deaf, senseless, and unworthy of life. Though much of what Philo claims in Fug. 121-124 is amenable to Stoic and Epicurean theories, it is worth highlighting some characteristically Middle Platonic themes that resonate throughout this passage. In equating the “king of the region of the body” with the ruler of those in an ignorant condition, for instance, Philo operates with the common

152 Platonic association of the body with vice.25 Moreover, Philo’s association of ignorance with blindness is a central Platonic metaphor.26 Philo references Deut. 29:4 in support of this association: ignoramuses, according to Philo, “have not hearts to understand, nor eyes to see, nor ears to hear.” As we shall later see, Paul too quotes this exact verse in 1

Cor 2:9, using it instead to emphasize the hidden and mysterious nature of the divine wisdom that some Christ followers have been able to access through the power of God’s

πνεῦμα. It is also possible that Philo describes in this passage the Platonic condition of total moral failure, which he elsewhere aligns with the death of the soul (Leg. all. 1.105-

108, 2.77-78, 3.52-53; Post. 73). The notion that total moral failure is characterized by the victory of a human’s corrupt body over his incorruptible soul is distinctly Platonic, and elsewhere Philo very clearly adheres to this Platonic notion of soul-death and total moral failure.27

Not all humans exist in a permanent state of ignorance, however, and for those who want to achieve wisdom and require training in order to do so, Philo claims that

25 The king to whom Philo refers is Pharaoh, for Philo repeatedly associates Egypt with the corrupt and mortal body. See Sarah J. K. Pearce, The Land of the Body (WUNT 208; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2007).

26 Plato, Resp. 514A-520A.

27 On the death of the soul in the works of Philo and Plato, see Wasserman, The Death of the Soul, 60-76.

153 instruction takes place in two phases: the first called preliminary, intellectual studies

(τὰ ἐγκύκλια προπαιδεύματα, τεχναί, λογικὴ θεωρία), and the second called knowledge or philosophy.28 This two-tiered stage of moral progress is distinctly Platonic, though

Philo’s conception of the process diverges slightly from that of Plato. As discussed in the previous chapter, Plato describes two stages of moral instruction: the habituative phase (in which progressing persons learn to control the spirited and appetitive parts of their souls through gymnastics and the like), and the rational phase (in which progressing persons use the study of geometry, astronomy, rhetoric, and dialectic to perfect their reason). In contrast, Philo’s first stage of education involves instruction in grammar, geometry, astronomy, rhetoric, music, and dialectic (Congr. 11, 14-18, 74-76,

142). After students cut their teeth on these more easily digested arts, writes Philo, those who are so able may proceed to the second and final stage of instruction – philosophy (Congr. 142). This division (the arts versus philosophy) is typical of Middle

Platonic approaches to education. Only in the final stage of moral progress do humans begin to focus exclusively on the acquisition of virtue.

28 Those who do not require instruction may skip such steps; Philo, Congr. 24, 34-36.

154 Philo refers to humans in the first stage of moral education as infants, while he refers to wiser humans as mature men:29

Do you not see that our bodies do not use solid and costly food before they have first, in their age of infancy (ἐν ἡλικίᾳ τῇ βρεφώδει), used such as had no variety, and consisted merely of milk? And, in the same way, think also that infantine food is prepared for the soul (τῇ ψυχῇ παιδικὰς μὲν νόμισον εὐτρεπίσθαι τροφὰς), namely the encyclical sciences (τὰ ἐγκύκλια), and the contemplations which are directed to each of them; but that the more mature and becoming food (τελειοτέρας δὲ καὶ πρεπούσας), namely the virtues, is prepared for those who are really full- grown men (ἀνδράσιν). (Congr. 19 [Younge, slightly modified])

Philo repeatedly employs this contrast between infantilism and maturity to distinguish between those just starting out on the road to virtue and those well advanced in their journey toward wisdom (Congr. 81-82; Migr. 46; Fug. 40, 146; Abr. 48). He also contrasts earthly humans (οἱ γήϊνοι ἄνθρωποι) with heavenly humans (οἱ οὐράνιοι ἄνθρωποι) to this same end. Earthly humans, according to Philo, are those less progressed in virtue, and heavenly humans are perfectly wise and virtuous. Philo bases his view that earthly and heavenly humans represent two different levels of moral development on his interpretation of the creation accounts recorded in Gen 1:26-27 and 2:7. The heavenly human of Gen 1:26-27 is made according to the image of God (κατ᾽εἰκόνα θεοῦ ἐποίησεν

29 It is worth noting here that Philo identifies those humans who occupy the more advanced stage of wisdom and virtue as mature men (ἀνδράσιν), rather than mature humans. I do not think this is intended to indicate that women are incapable of moral perfection, but rather that moral perfection is a masculinizing endeavor.

155 αὐτόν [LXX]). Philo describes this human as an idea, a type, or a seal stamped after the

λόγος. Philo’s heavenly human is incorporeal, partakes of the divine πνεῦμα, and has no part in corruption. Neither male nor female (οὔτ᾽ ἄρρεν οὔτε θῆλυ), this human is pure mind, cultivating and guarding the virtues without any need of exhortation. The earthly human of Gen 2:7 is formed from clay and animated with the divine breath (καὶ

ἔπλασεν ὁ θεὸς τὸν ἄνθρωπον χοῦν ἀπὸ τῆς γῆς καὶ ἐνεφύσησεν εἰς τὸ πρόσωπον αὐτοῦ

πνοὴν ζωῆς, καὶ ἐγένετο ὁ ἄνθρωπος εἰς ψυχὴν ζῶσαν [LXX]). According to Philo, this earthly human is ontologically inferior to the heavenly human of Gen 1:26-27. The earthly human consists of a body composed of earth and a soul infused with divine breath. This human is an object of sense-perception and may be a man or a woman

(ἀνὴρ ἢ γυνή). The earthly human is corruptible and mortal in the sense that it is molded out of clay, but it shares in God’s incorruptibility by virtue of the divine breath or πνεῦμα.30 The earthly human remains perpetually on the brink of exile from virtue.

The little virtue that it does possess is terrestrial in nature, capable only of warding off diseases of the soul.31

30 Though Gen 2:7 LXX states that the earthly human receives divine breath (πνοή), not divine πνεῦμα, Philo often refers to this breath of life as the divine πνεῦμα (Leg. all. 1.33, 42).

31 On Philo’s conception of the heavenly human (Gen 1:26-27) and the earthly human (Gen 2:7), see: Opif. 134-135; Leg. all. 1.31-32, 42, 45, 88-93, 2.4, 3.96; Det. 79-90. See also the discussions of Philo’s interpretation of Gen 1:27 and 2:7 in Radice, “Philo’s Theology,” 134-135; David

156 Philo’s complex and often muddled descriptions of the heavenly and earthly

ἄνθρωποι deserve far more attention than they can be given here. For my purposes it suffices to note that Philo uses the creation accounts in Gen 1:26-27 and 2:7 as a scriptural basis for his schema of moral development. As humans progress from infancy to maturity, they also progress from an earthly state (as represented by the human in

Gen 2:7) to a more perfect, heavenly one (as represented by the human in Gen 1:26-27).

This two-level schema of moral progress whereby a progressing human transitions from an earthly to a heavenly state aligns well with Philo’s claim that the goal of life is assimilation to God. Progressing humans, as they gradually gain virtue, go through an ontological transformation. Beginning as a mixture of earthly clay and divine breath, such humans become, through the acquisition of virtue, an incorruptible being made according to the image of God.

Philo’s two-level schemas of moral development that we have discussed thus far

– study of the arts progressing to study of philosophy, infants progressing to mature adults, earthly humans progressing to heavenly humans – are further supplemented by

Philo’s comments in Leg. all. 1.93-95 on the difference between the intermediate human and the perfect human. In discussing the differences between injunction (πρόσταξις),

Winston, Logos and Mystical Theology in Philo of Alexandria (Cincinnati: Hebrew Union College Press, 1985), 24-25, 30; and Sterling, “Wisdom Among the Perfect,” 361-367.

157 prohibition (ἀπαγόρευσις), and exhortation (παραίνεσις), Philo outlines three levels of humans with respect to their overall badness and goodness: the bad human (ὁ φαῦλος), the intermediate human (ὁ μἐσος), and the perfect human (ὁ τέλειος). The bad human receives both injunctions and prohibitions.32 Elsewhere in Leg. all. Philo adds that the bad human is incapable of taking part in virtue, worships the vice-ridden body, and is exiled from divine company (Leg. all. 3.1, 6-7, 31, 191). The bad human thus stands outside Philo’s schema of moral progress and represents a class of humans who will never venture upon the road that leads to virtue. Though Philo does not seem to explicitly equate the bad human with the human who neither seeks nor discovers virtue, or the human who experiences complete moral failure, it seems probable to me that these types of humans represent one and the same deplorable, vice-ridden stage, given that none of these humans participate in virtue.

The intermediate human of Leg. all. 1.93-95, on the other hand, is neither bad nor good and requires exhortation and instruction (παραίνεσις and διδασκαλία). Philo

32 Prohibitions directed toward the bad human concern failures (ἁμαρτήματα), while commands directed toward the bad human concern right actions (κατορθώματα). It is worth drawing attention here to Philo’s reference to κατορθώματα, for this is a distinctively Stoic term referring to the right actions performed by the sage. Elsewhere (Leg. all. 1.56-57) Philo asserts that the κατορθώματα, as well as the appropriate actions of the progressing Stoic (καθήκοντα), are “trees of virtue” planted by God in the human soul. Unlike the Stoics, however, Philo does not consider the κατορθώματα to be the exclusive domain of the sage (Migr. 35-54). See Roskam, On the Path to Virtue, 205-207, for a comparison of Philo’s use of these terms and their meaning in standard Stoic theory.

158 also refers to the intermediate human as the infant (ὁ νήπιος) and likens him to the earthly human – the human that is neither bad nor good and requires exhortation.33

Philo further solidifies the connection between the intermediate human and the earthly human in Leg. all. 3.246, equating Adam with the intermediate mind and claiming that the intermediate mind is neither bad nor good. Finally, the mature human (ὁ τέλειος) of Leg. all. 1.93-95 is perfect – he requires neither prohibitions, nor commands, nor instructions. Moreover, Philo claims that the mature human is made according to the image of God. Although Philo does not explicitly link the perfect human with the heavenly human in this passage, both are made according to the image of God and should be understood as one and the same type of human. If we combine

Philo’s various statements regarding bad humans, infants, mature humans, earthly minds, and heavenly minds, then, we arrive at an outline of Philo’s schema of moral development that looks something like this:34

33 Cf. Philo, Leg. all. 2.64.

34 Cf. Figure 7.2, “Categories of People in Relation to the Telos,” in Charles A. Anderson, Philo of Alexandria’s Views of the Physical World (WUNT 309; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2011), 163-164.

159 Bad human Intermediate human Perfect human

= infant = mature

= earthly human = heavenly human

requires injunctions requires exhortation requires nothing and prohibitions and instruction

exiled from virtue perpetually on the brink cultivates and

of exile from virtue guards the virtues

The bad human is exiled from virtue and cannot participate in moral progress. The intermediate human, to whom Philo variously refers as an infant and an earthly human, constantly toes the line between vice and virtue, requiring exhortation and instruction in order to advance in virtue. The perfect human represents the final stage of moral progress. He is mature, heavenly, and requires no instruction or exhortation since he is completely virtuous.

Unsurprisingly, Philo avers that the progressing person’s transition from earthly, infantile, intermediate status to mature, heavenly, perfect status requires that the progressing person address the problematic existence of his πάθη, or corrupt emotions. At times Philo clearly supports the traditional Platonic approach to the πάθη, asserting that mere control of the πάθη is enough to attain virtue and wisdom (Leg. all.

160 2.8; Migr. 156-157).35 At other points, however, Philo seems to follow the Stoics in advocating complete eradication of the πάθη: he writes that the wise human extirpates anger and desire from his nature, and he asserts that circumcision symbolizes the excision of pleasure and all πάθη (Deus. 67; Migr. 92; Sacr. 110-111).36 Philo also claims that only sages will experience joy, which he categorizes as the best of the εὐπαθεῖαι (a distinctively Stoic term) (Migr. 156-157; Det. 135-138). The seemingly contradictory nature of these multiple approaches to the πάθη is resolved and clarified by Philo in

Leg. all. 3.128-132. Here Philo presents the strategies of μετριοπάθεια and ἀπάθεια as characteristic of two separate levels of moral development. Philo asserts that the wise human, represented by the god-like Moses, always seeks to completely rid himself of the πάθη, but the nearly-wise human, represented by Aaron, is unable to fully eradicate the πάθη and thus settles for keeping them under his control. Philo, then, considers moderation of the πάθη to be an admirable activity suited to the nearly-wise, while he considers eradication of the πάθη to be a feat attained only by perfect humans. This view of moderation and elimination as two successive steps in dealing with the πάθη is

35 For general discussions of Philo’s view of the emotions, see Lévy, “Philo’s Ethics,” 156-161; and David Winston, “Philo of Alexandria on the rational and irrational emotions,” in Passions and Moral Progress in Greco-Roman Thought (ed. J.T. Fitzgerald; New York: Routledge, 2008), 201- 220.

36 Cf. Philo, Migr. 67.

161 common amongst Middle Platonists and has its roots in Plato’s own vacillation on the subject. As we shall see later in this chapter, the Middle Platonist Plutarch holds similar views.

Though Philo does not explicitly raise the question of women’s moral progress, he does seem to consider women to be capable of acquiring virtue.37 In his treatise on the contemplative life, for example, Philo asserts that women are capable of devoting themselves to philosophical study with the same zeal as men (Contempl. 32).38 Philo also notes, in his essay on the embassy to Gaius, that Julia Augusta achieved great wisdom

(Legat. 319-320). Yet in another treatise Philo proclaims that moral progress involves

37 See both Dorothy Sly’s concluding remarks in Philo’s Perception of Women (BJS 209; Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1990), 223; and Sharon Lea Mattila’s summary of the issue in “Wisdom, Sense Perception, Nature, and Philo’s Gender Gradient,” HTR 89.2 (1996), 107-108.

38 There has been much discussion in recent decades over the existence of real Therapeutae and the overall historicity of Philo’s account. While a resolution to these issues would indeed have enormous ramifications for the study of real women in first century Alexandria, it seems unlikely that such a resolution will be reached – unless additional evidence in support of either side surfaces. I remain largely convinced by Ross S. Kraemer’s argument that Philo has either invented the Therapeutae or so molded his presentation of them based on his exegesis of texts such as Exodus 15 that a reconstruction of the real Therapeutae is impossible. Though the existence of Therapeutae would have likely affected Philo’s views of women, we must deal with what we have in front of us – a text, whether based on a real group or not, in which Philo expresses his attitude toward the idea of women as philosophers. Thus for the purposes of our examination, the question of the historicity of the Therapeutae affects little the relevance of Contempl. for Philo’s theoretical views on women’s ability to achieve great virtue. For more on the historicity of Philo’s account of the Therapeutae, see Troels Engberg-Pedersen, “Philo’s De Vita Contemplativa as a Philosopher’s Dream,” JSJ 30.1 (1999): 40-64; Taylor, Jewish Women Philosophers; and Kraemer, Unreliable Witnesses: Religion, Gender, and History in the Greco-Roman Mediterranean (New York: Oxford University Press, 2011), 57-116.

162 the changing of one’s gender from feminine to masculine: “For progress (προκοπή) is indeed nothing else than the giving up of the female gender (τοῦ θήλεος γένους) by changing into the male, since the female gender is material, passive, corporeal, and sense-perceptible, while the male is active, rational, incorporeal and more akin to mind and thought” (QE 1.8 [Marcus]). Philo consistently describes the feminine as that which is inferior, non-rational, sense-perceptible, material, earthly, and passive. Likewise, he is adamant in equating the masculine with that which is superior, rational, noetic, incorporeal, heavenly, and active (Opif. 165; Leg. all. 2.38, 49-50, 3.11, 49-50, 185-186;

Ebr. 54; Migr. 100, 206).39 And though Philo names many virtues after biblical women, he is careful to clarify that the virtues are given names of women because of their inferiority to the omnipotent One; with respect to their powers and deeds, the virtues are like full-grown men (ἀνδρῶν τελειοτάτων) (Fug. 51).40 Therefore, while Philo supports the idea that women have the potential to acquire great virtue, he also espouses the cultural norms of his day regarding the association of femininity with

39 Mattila, “Philo’s Gender Gradient,” 105-106.

40 For a discussion of Fug. 51, see Lévy, “Philo’s Ethics,” 153.

163 moral inferiority and weakness. Moreover, Philo often conceives of women who achieve great virtue as becoming masculine and desexualized.41

As should now be clear, Philo’s thoughts on moral progress must be understood as representative of ancient Mediterranean philosophy. Though Philo relies on Jewish scripture in explicating his thoughts, we cannot fully understand his program of moral progress without also understanding his use of Stoic and Middle Platonic theories.

Moreover, Philo’s thought aligns best with contemporary Middle Platonic theory. Like other Middle Platonists, he considers divine assimilation to represent the apogee of moral development, he associates the body with vice, he believes the soul to consist of rational and non-rational parts, he upholds the goal of μετριοπάθεια, and he suggests that progress in virtue depends upon natural abilities, instruction, and practice. Yet there are a great many aspects of Philo’s schema of moral development that would have appealed to Stoics as well – including, but not limited to, Philo’s comments about the soul as consisting of divine πνεῦμα, his assertions that the goal of life is to live in accordance with nature, and his high valuation of ἀπάθεια. Moreover, many Jews of

Philo’s day would have recognized Philo’s use of Jewish scripture, his assertions about

41 See the discussion of Taylor, Jewish Women Philosophers, 227-264, on women and sex in Contempl.

164 the importance of God’s inbreathed πνεῦμα for humans’ possession of virtue, and his interest in divine assimilation.

Importantly, Philo sees all these ideas as mutually entailing, inextricably linked, and completely amenable to one another. I would like to suggest that it is the flexibility of Plato’s thought, from which Philo draws, that allows Philo to employ such a wide range of appealing philosophical ideas in explicating his program of moral progress.

Because Plato himself waffles between support of μετριοπάθεια and praise of ἀπάθεια, because Plato sometimes speaks of harmony between the soul-parts and at other times speaks of the dominating action of the rational part, and because Plato never clearly defines the τέλος of life, Philo is able to weave together Platonic and Stoic precepts into a system of moral progress that best suits both his philosophical and his religious/ethnic inclinations. Stoicism could not provide Philo with such flexibility.

This is not to say, however, that the Stoic framework was rigid or unattractive to non-

Stoics. In fact, as we shall see in the following section on Seneca’s thought, there was a great deal in Roman Stoicism that Middle Platonists and Jews (both philosophically and non-philosophically inclined) would have found appealing. Rather, I simply mean to argue that the Platonist framework is more flexible than the Stoic one.

165

His Own Favorite Stoic: Seneca on Moral Progress

Seneca, a self-affirmed Stoic, proves himself a worthy heir of this appellation at the outset of his ethical program: like his philosophical forebears, he equates the goal of moral perfection with a life according to the virtuous reason naturally bestowed upon humans. 42 With a characteristically Stoic attitude, he asserts on multiple occasions that humans, who are naturally inclined toward virtue, must develop their rational faculties until they possess minds that are steadfast, calm, and free of desire and fear.43 To these ethical imperatives Seneca also adds the directive, “Follow God

(deum sequere)!,” and at times asserts even more strongly that the goal of philosophy is to become equal to God (par deo, deos aequat) (Vit. beat. 15.4-5, 7; Ep. 31.9-11; 48.11-12,

42 On numerous occasions, Seneca identifies himself as a Stoic: see, for example, Ep. 13.4, 33.3-4, 65.2. He does, however, like to stress his intellectual independence (cf. Ep. 33.11, 45.4, 80.1). As Teun Tieleman, “Onomastic Reference in Seneca: The Case of Plato and the Platonists,” in Platonic Stoicism – Stoic Platonism: The Dialogue between Platonism and Stoicism in Antiquity (ed. M. Bonazzi and C. Helming; Leuven: Leuven University Press, 2007), 138, states, Seneca’s coloring of his Stoic predecessors as guides rather than masters indicates “that Seneca is his own favourite Stoic,” and that he sees himself as “the one who will give Stoicism its voice for his own and future generations.”

43 On Seneca’s equation of moral perfection with the natural perfection of reason, see: Seneca, Vit. beat. 3.2, 4.1-3, 5.2, 8.5; Ep. 41.8-9, 66.31-33, 66.39-40, 71.32. On Seneca’s views regarding humans’ natural inclination toward the good and moral perfection, see Seneca, Ira 2.15.3; Ep. 13.15, 49.12.

166 92.29; Ben. 4.25.1).44 Seneca’s association of the τέλος with following and becoming equal to God gives prominence to a strand of thought imbedded in Stoic ethics since the

Hellenistic period. Stoic philosophers (unlike Middle Platonists who believe the supreme God to be wholly transcendent and immaterial, and unlike Epicureans who think the gods unconcerned with human affairs) equate God with the universe, nature, and perfected reason (Diogenes Laertius 7.87-88, 7.134 [LS 44B], 7.137 [LS 44F], 7.147 [LS

54A], 7.148). 45 Seneca upholds this Stoic view, proclaiming with great rhetorical flourish, “what else is Nature but God and the Divine Reason that pervades the whole universe and all its parts” (Ben. 4.7.1)?46 Thus the progressing Stoic who aims to become equal to God does so by cultivating the reason that is natural to him and a part of his being. The progressing Stoic does not attempt to assimilate himself to some entity that is ontologically different from himself, as do the Middle Platonists, but instead attempts

44 Cf. Seneca, Ep. 53.11, in which Seneca details the differences between the gods and the wise human.

45 For ruminations on Stoic theology as “pantheism,” see Dirk Baltzly, “Stoic Pantheism,” Sophia 42.2 (2003): 3-31; and Keimpe Algra, “Stoic Theology,” in The Cambridge Companion to the Stoics (ed. B. Inwood; New York: Cambridge University Press, 2003), 167-168.

46 See also Seneca, Ep. 66.12, 92.27-31.

167 to let his soul realize its full potential.47 Therefore, though Seneca’s exhortation to become equal to God may ostensibly sound like the Middle Platonic dictum of divine assimilation, it does not involve the ontological transformation that is a defining characteristic of Middle Platonic notions of the τέλος.48

Seneca also follows his Stoic predecessors in maintaining an absolutist conception of virtue: a human is either fully virtuous or fully vice-ridden (Ep. 66.7-9,

71.8, 75.8). Divine wisdom and virtue are achieved in an instant, claim Seneca and the

Stoics, but this instant transformation from baseness to virtue does not preclude the notion of gradual progress. The perfectly virtuous Stoic sage, after all, is extremely rare at least and an unattainable ideal at most.49 Thus despite the thoroughgoing depravity of all progressing humans, discernable differences amongst progressing humans do

47 Thus Seneca claims that Nature equips humans with such gifts that they may rise level with God (Ep. 31.9), and that the soul was framed by nature to desire and reach out for equality with the gods (Ep. 92.30-31)

48 For more on Seneca’s engagement with Plato and contemporary Platonism, cf. Brad Inwood, “Seneca, Plato and Platonism: The Case of Letter 65,” in Platonic Stoicism – Stoic Platonism: The Dialogue between Platonism and Stoicism in Antiquity (ed. M. Bonazzi and C. Helmig; AMP 1.39; Leuven: Leuven University Press, 2007), 149-167; and George Boys-Stones, “Seneca against Plato: Letters 58 and 65,” in Plato and the Stoics (ed. A. G. Long; New York: Cambridge University Press, 2013), 128-146 (see, in particular, p.144).

49 Seneca, Ep. 120.10-22, outlines the way in which humans conceive of the perfect human in the absence of a present and real sage. For more on the ontological status of the sage according to Seneca, see Inwood, Reading Seneca, 294-297.

168 exist with respect to their nearness to virtue. All progressing humans may be equally foolish, but they differ with respect to their proximity to virtue.

In describing the moral journey upon which motivated fools embark, Seneca details three basic levels of moral development (Ep. 75.8-14). The highest level of moral development described by Seneca consists of those individuals who are very close to achieving wisdom: they have laid aside their emotions and vice (adfectus ac vitia) and cannot regress into moral turpitude.50 Individuals of this first class differ from wise humans only in that their confidence (fiducia) has not yet been tested.51 Humans belonging to the second highest level of moral development have rid themselves of

50 Seneca’s assertion in Ep. 75.9 that progressing people of the first class are immune to moral regression runs counter to his claims elsewhere that only wise humans possess this trait (see, for example, Ep. 72.6).

51 In describing the first class of progressing humans, Seneca notes that some people attribute slightly different characteristics to this class. According to some (quidam hoc proficientium genus), individuals of the first class have not yet abolished the emotions and thus are in danger of regressing to their former, vice-ridden states. It is unclear from this passage whether Seneca supports this alternative characterization of the first-class of humans, but it is possible that Seneca actually supports both ideas, conceiving of a two-tiered class of almost- wise humans. Roskam, On the Path to Virtue, 76-84, discusses this very issue: by using Seneca’s statements in De tranquillitate animi 2.1-2 to clarify and interpret the stages of progress presented in Ep. 75, Roskam argues that Seneca means to propose a two-tiered class of almost- perfect humans. I am not fully convinced of Roskam’s proposal. Rather, I am more inclined to read these differing characterizations as Seneca’s nod to popular confusion over the coaction of renouncing the emotions but still feeling them. Regardless of the exact meaning of Seneca’s statement, however, his adherence to a notion of gradual moral progress still stands. See also Haber, “Prokope,” 21, who believes that individuals of this first class are wise: they have fiducia, it has just not yet been tested.

169 their minds’ greatest vices and emotions, but they remain plagued by lesser, yet chronic, mental ills. Because such humans have not fully eliminated their emotions and vices, they are capable of regressing to their former, less-progressed, states at any time.

Humans belonging to the lowest level of moral development, according to Seneca, have only eliminated a few of their vices. Though such humans may have escaped avarice, lust, and desire, they continue to be troubled by anger, ambition, and fear. Despite the weaknesses of these humans, their progress is admirable, Seneca avers – at least they are closer to virtue than those who have not developed their moral abilities.52

This schema of moral development described by Seneca conforms to standard

Stoic theory regarding moral progress and the corrupt emotions (πάθη, adfectūs). As discussed in the previous chapter, Stoics assert that corrupt emotions are merely the result of false beliefs, and a well-functioning rational faculty will systematically eradicate corrupt emotions.53 Mere moderation of the corrupt emotions will not do, for moderation indicates that a person still possesses some false beliefs. Seneca works in

52 Cf. Seneca, Ep. 71.34-35. For a more detailed analysis of Seneca’s schema of moral development in Ep. 75, see Roskam, On the Path to Virtue, 75-84.

53 On reason as the antidote to corrupt emotion: Seneca, Ira 1.7.1-8.4, 2.1.3-5; Ep. 37.4. It is important to keep in mind here that the Stoics and Seneca only advocate the eradication of corrupt emotions (πάθη, adfectūs); good emotions, such as joy, which are based upon true beliefs, are integral to the wisdom of the sage (see, e.g., Ep. 59.2-4). The Stoic sage may also experience precursors to emotion – sweaty palms, uncontrollable quivering, a ruddy face – but his rational faculty will keep the corrupt emotion itself at bay (Ira 1.16.7, 2.2.5-3.5; Ep. 71.29).

170 accordance with these Stoic tenets. He emphasizes the positive correlation between the eradication of adfectūs and a human’s proximity to virtue, and he grounds his ideas about the eradication of the corrupt emotions in his theory of a unified, rational soul.54

Elaborating upon the necessity of eliminating the corrupt emotions, Seneca likens the corrupt emotions to a rival army, which cannot be allowed to invade that sturdy fortress inhabited by the mind: “The enemy, I repeat, must be stopped at the very frontier; for if he has passed it, and advanced within the city-gates, he will not respect any bounds set by his captives” (Ira 1.8.2 [Basore]).

Seneca, like Philo, employs the contrast of childishness and maturity to illustrate the difference between lower levels of moral development and the highest level of moral development. “You may look for a still greater joy when you have laid aside the mind of boyhood (puerilem animum) and when wisdom has enrolled you among men (in viros). For it is not boyhood (pueritia) that still stays with us, but something worse, – boyishness (puerilitas)” (Ep. 4.2 [Gummere]). Gender, too, plays a role in Seneca’s depictions of various stages of moral progress. That corrupt emotion known as anger, according to Seneca, is not only a childish vice, but a womanish one as

54 Inwood, Reading Seneca, 23-64, provides a thorough examination of Seneca’s theory of the corrupt emotions and its relationship to the unified, rational soul; Inwood rightfully concludes that, despite the existence of passages in which Seneca seems to support psychological dualism, his theory of the soul and corrupt emotions operates within the confines of what we would consider standard Stoic ethical theory.

171 well (ira muliebre maxime ac puerile vitium est) (Ira 1.20.3). But does this gendering of corrupt emotion as womanish indicate that real women cannot achieve moral perfection, or even come close to achieving moral perfection? In Seneca’s consolatory note to a certain Marcia, he avers that women are not barred from virtue on the basis of their sex. “But who has asserted that Nature has dealt grudgingly with women’s natures and has narrowly restricted their virtues? Believe me, they have just as much force, just as much capacity, if they like, for virtuous action; they are just as able to endure suffering and toil when they are accustomed to them” (Marc. 16.1 [Basore]). Yet

Seneca begins his address to Marcia by contrasting her virtue with the mental weakness typical of women (Marc. 1.1). Moreover, at other points throughout his essays, Seneca remarks that women are more prone to experiencing corrupt emotions than are men (Marc. 7.3; Clem. 1.5.5, 2.5.1).55 Though Seneca thinks women capable of attaining virtue, then, he believes that women are less likely to attain virtue than men because of the inherent weaknesses of their gender.

According to Seneca, progressing humans have several aids at their disposal that enable them to grasp virtue and wisdom. Nature itself, claims Seneca, is one such indispensible aid for achieving moral perfection. Nature plants the seeds of knowledge in progressing humans and increases their moral clarity. By observing nature, humans

55 Reydams-Schils, The Roman Stoics, 167-168.

172 learn to wrest themselves from their limited human perspective and see the world through divine eyes.56 A careful analysis of natural things also allows humans to better understand virtue and the good in the absence of having direct access to a perfect model. For example, progressing humans might never meet a sage, but they can imagine what perfect mental health looks like based on the perfect specimens of bodily health that they encounter.57 God, too, as that divine being of perfected reason pervading all portions of the universe, also plays a large role in humans’ advancement toward virtue. In a passage whose author could very easily be mistaken as Paul, Seneca exhorts his confidant Lucilius: “God is near you, he is with you, he is within you. This is what I mean, Lucilius: a holy spirit (sacer spiritus) indwells within us, one who marks our good and bad deeds, and is our guardian. As we treat this spirit, so are we treated by it.

Indeed, no man (vir) can be good without the help of God (Ep. 41.1-2 [Gummere]).” The sacer spiritus to which Seneca refers here is the divine πνεῦμα, which Stoics believe pervades all living things. As discussed in Chapter Two, the Stoics define πνεῦμα as that divine and life-sustaining material substance which extends throughout the universe with varying density and tension: it unites the particles of a rock, it infuses plants and

56 Inwood, Reading Seneca, 157-200.

57 See Seneca, Ep. 120, on the role of human nature in understanding the good and advancing toward virtue; Inwood, Reading Seneca, 291-294.

173 animals with life, and it sustains the human soul.58 In fact the πνεῦμα, or spiritus, as

Seneca translates the Greek term, is the material of which the human soul consists.

Thus when Seneca writes of the sacer spiritus, he is referring to the divine element of the human soul.59 Moral and rational perfection, because it involves the reasoning soul, cannot be enacted without the aid of the God-ward element that sustains the human being.60

Though humans are primarily guided toward moral perfection by Nature (or

God, depending on one’s perspective), they also sometimes require the aid of other humans in achieving virtue.61 Seneca refers throughout his writings to the utility of a human guide on the road to the happy life (Vit. beat. 1.2-4; Ep. 33.10, 34.2.). A human

58 For more on the Stoic conception of πνεῦμα: Aëtius 1.7.33 (LS 46A), 4.21.1-4 (LS 53H); Alexander, Mixt. 216.14-218.6 (LS 48C); Galen, Caus. cont. 1.1-2.4 (LS 55F), Intr. 14.726.7-11 (LS 47N); Plutarch, Stoic. rep. 1053F-1054B (LS 47M); see also Philo, Deus. 35-36 (LS 47Q). For more on Seneca’s conception of the sacer spiritus, see Aldo Setaioli, “Seneca and the Divine: Stoic Tradition and Personal Developments,” IJCT 13.3 (2007): 336-337.

59 This is confirmed by Seneca’s claim in Ep. 31.9-11 that the human soul is none other than a god dwelling in a human body; on spiritus see also Seneca, NQ 6.16.1-2.

60 This emphasis on the cosmic and divine nature as the goal of moral perfection (as opposed to human nature) is typical of Roman Stoicism; see Annas, Morality of Happiness, 160.

61 As Brad Inwood, Reading Seneca, 157-200, argues, scholars have long ignored the strands of Seneca’s thought in which he emphasizes the importance, and even the primacy, of knowledge of physics for humans’ moral betterment. This is not to say that communal exhortation and knowledge gleaned from other humans does not aid in a human’s moral development, though; rather, a direct experience with nature itself is simply superior to knowledge of nature gleaned through a human mediator.

174 guide may serve two purposes. First, a guide may function as the standard upon which a progressing person models his actions. Humans adopt habits from those with whom they associate, and they are well served to model their behavior after past and present philosophers (Ira 3.8.1-2; Ep. 6.5-6, 7.8, 52.7-8). “We must indeed have someone according to whom we may regulate our characters,” Seneca informs his confidant

Lucilius; “you can never straighten that which is crooked unless you use a ruler” (Ep.

11.10 [Gummere]).

Second, a guide may serve as a teacher, exhorting and goading his pupil toward moral perfection. Seneca’s statements regarding the relationship between teacher and pupil are reminiscent of Epicurean pedagogical strategies. Just as the Epicurean

Philodemus recommends that a teacher adjust his approach depending on a student’s disposition, so too Seneca advises that a teacher choose whichever hortatory tactic will best spur a student toward his ultimate goal.62 Guides may nudge their students toward virtue by both admonition and force, and they may treat their students gently or harshly, depending on the students’ dispositions (Ira 1.6.1-3, 1.14.2-16.4; Ep. 25.1-2,

52.6). Seneca, who claims to follow a dictum of Epicurus on this point, classifies humans into three categories based upon their intellectual temperaments. Humans of the first

62 For a discussion of Philodemus’ brand of communal exhortation, see pp.xx-xx in Chapter Two of this dissertation. See also Glad, Paul and Philodemus, 101-160.

175 anthropological category, according to Seneca, belongs to an elite group, for they attain moral perfection without the aid of others. Humans of the second category require guides in order to achieve virtue and perfect reason, but they will choose to follow these guides on their own accord. Humans of the third type require more than guides – they need teachers who will encourage and force them along toward moral betterment

(Ep. 52.3-4).63

Seneca’s repeated statements regarding the importance of guides in achieving the happy life highlight an important aspect of his program of moral progress: its dependence upon the existence of hierarchical moral differentiation amongst humans.

Yet those who are closest to virtue also gain wisdom by teaching the ignorant. Seneca exhorts the progressing person to “associate with those who will make a better person of you. Welcome those whom you yourself can improve. The process is mutual; for humans learn while they teach” (Ep. 7.8 [Gummere, slightly modified]).64 Seneca’s program of moral progress involves successive stages of development, and just as those at lower stages can benefit from interaction with those at higher stages, so too can

63 Cf. Ep. 95.36-37; Ben. 5.25.5.

64 As Seneca, Ep. 6.4, states, wisdom is meant to be shared among friends: “Nothing will ever please me, no matter how excellent or beneficial, if I must retain the knowledge of it to myself. And if wisdom were given me under the express condition that it must be kept hidden and not uttered, I should refuse it. No good thing is pleasant to possess, without friends to share it” (Gummere).

176 those occupying a place closer to virtue benefit from interaction with those occupying a place farther from virtue.

Humans, then, progress toward wisdom with the aid of Nature/God and other humans. Solitude also affords the progressing human an opportunity to reflect upon the quality of his actions. Self-examination must be performed if a human is to achieve wisdom. Seneca describes his own procedure of self-examination and the benefits incurred from its performance:

Anger will cease and become more controllable if it finds that it must appear before a judge every day. Can anything be more excellent than this practice of thoroughly sifting the whole day? And how delightful the sleep that follows this self-examination - how tranquil it is, how deep and untroubled, when the soul has either praised or admonished itself, and when this secret examiner and critic of self has given report of its own character! I avail myself of this privilege, and every day I plead my cause before the bar of self. When the light has been removed from sight, and my wife, long aware of my habit, has become silent, I scan the whole of my day and retrace all my deeds and words. I conceal nothing from myself, I omit nothing. For why should I shrink from any of my mistakes, when I may commune thus with myself? “See that you never do that again; I will pardon you this time. In that dispute, you spoke too offensively; after this don't have encounters with ignorant people; those who have never learned do not want to learn. You reproved that person more frankly than you ought, and consequently you have, not so much mended him as offended him. In the future, consider not only the truth of what you say, but also whether the person to whom you are speaking can endure the truth. A good person accepts reproof gladly; the worse a person is the more bitterly he resents it.” (Ira 3.36.2-4 [Basore, slightly modified])65

65 See also Seneca, Ep. 6.1, 16.1-2.

177

A human must perform internal reviews on a regular basis if he hopes to progress toward virtue. Through repeated practice, inclinations toward virtue become settled.

With constant monitoring, vices are corrected and their hold on a human’s character is loosened. Just as athletes cannot hope to become stronger, faster, and more agile without daily practice, so too progressing persons cannot achieve wisdom without daily assessing the rightness of their actions.

Seneca’s views on moral progress and levels of moral development prove him an admirable ambassador of the Stoic philosophy. He upholds the characteristically

Stoic tenet that only wise humans are virtuous, and all progressing humans are equally foolish. He repeatedly exhorts his audience to a life in accord with the reason naturally bestowed upon humans. He is adamant about the danger that emotions based on false beliefs present to the progressing person, supporting the specifically Stoic view that the unified and rational state of the human soul entails nothing less than the eradication of emotions in the virtuous person. And though Seneca’s insistence on becoming equal to God might have appealed in part to the Middle Platonists of his day, it accords most fully with Stoic ethical theory: humans are to bring to perfection that most natural aspect of themselves, not undergo some ontological transformation into something which is other than themselves. Moreover, though Seneca does espouse a

178 robust theory of communal exhortation that would have appealed to Epicureans, in a characteristically Stoic fashion he emphasizes the importance of the aid that

Nature/God provides to the progressing person. Seneca builds his system of moral progress, therefore, within a thoroughly Stoic framework, reinforcing it with wisdom that is amenable to Stoic dogma but also appeals to other philosophical traditions.

Seneca views these reinforcements not as foreign or inimical to his Stoic framework, but as elements that should be considered common property amongst the philosophical schools. As Seneca defensively asserts, regarding his references to the precepts of other schools: “What difference does it make who spoke the words? They were uttered for the world” (Ep. 14.18).

A Practical Platonist: Plutarch on Moral Progress

Plutarch, born to a wealthy family in the middle of the first century CE, actively engaged in the politics, philosophy, and religion of his day. In addition to studying philosophy at Athens and travelling widely around the Mediterranean, Plutarch also spent time as a civic magistrate in his native Chaeronea and as a priest at nearby

Delphi. In the midst of such pursuits, Plutarch found the time to write extensively, bequeathing to posterity two collections of writings: his Lives and Parallel Lives, which detail the virtues and vices of famous Greeks and Romans in biographical fashion, and

179 his Moralia, which consists of treatises and dialogues on various philosophical and religious topics. I will draw primarily from the Moralia in reconstructing Plutarch’s system of moral development.66

Firmly entrenched in and devoted to the Middle Platonism of his day,67 Plutarch was entirely capable of engaging in philosophical polemics and theoretical philosophy.68 Nevertheless, Plutarch was much more concerned with the practical ramifications of theoretical philosophy, devoting many of his treatises to investigating practical moral issues such as the control of anger, the education of children, and listening to lectures.69 As a result of this, Plutarch, more clearly than many other

66 An analysis of Plutarch’s Lives, however, would undoubtedly confirm much of what is detailed below. On the relationship between Plutarch’s Lives and his Moralia, see Roskam, On the Path to Virtue, 332-335.

67 Though Plutarch identifies himself as a Platonist and undoubtedly espouses Middle Platonic views, there are aspects of his thought that betray the influence of Stoicism, Aristotelianism, and other philosophical schools. Plutarch’s thought (particular his physics) certainly owes some to Stoic theory, although Plutarch formally attacks Stoic ideas many times throughout his writings. Plutarch’s ethics and logic (particularly his conceptions of moral virtue and corrupt emotions), on the other hand, are greatly influenced by Aristotelianism. For more regarding the location of Plutarch on the spectrum of Middle Platonism, see Dillon, Middle Platonists, 186, 193-198; and John Dillon, “Plutarch and Platonism,” in A Companion to Plutarch (ed. M. Beck; BCAW; Malden, Mass.: Wiley Blackwell, 2014), 61-72.

68 Plutarch wrote numerous treatises devoted to the refutation of Stoic and Epicurean doctrines (see, for example, Stoic. rep., Comm. not., Adv. Col., Non posse, and Lat. viv).

69 As Lieve Van Hoof, Plutarch’s Practical Ethics: The Social Dynamics of Philosophy (New York: Oxford University Press, 2010), 4-7, notes, however, one should resist the tendency to view

180 philosophers under Roman rule (including Seneca and Philo), limns and elaborates upon the stages of moral development which humans must master in order to attain true wisdom.

Plutarch, like other Middle Platonists, conceives of the τέλος as assimilation to

God through the acquisition of virtue:

Consider that God, as Plato says, offers himself to all as a pattern of every excellence (πάντων καλῶν), thus rendering human virtue (τὴν ἀνθρωπίνην ἀρετήν), which is in some sort an assimilation to himself, accessible to all who can follow God….for a human (ἄνθρωπος) is fitted to derive from God no greater blessing than to become settled in virtue through copying and aspiring to the beauty and the goodness that are his. (Sera num. 550D-E [Dillon, slightly modified])70

Of the virtues necessary to achieve assimilation to the divine, however, Plutarch posits two types. Plutarch associates the highest type of virtue with wisdom (ἡ σοφία) and contemplation (θεωρία). Virtues of this sort are purely intellectual and arise only out of the contemplation of first principles, or those things whose existence is absolute and unchanging. Such contemplation requires that a human separate his mind from his body. According to Plutarch, “whenever the intellect acts, not accompanied by emotion

these practical treatises as second-rate philosophy based on their practical nature. For an exploration of the relationship between practicality and popularity with respect to Plutarch’s ethics, see Christopher Pelling, “What is Popular About Plutarch’s ‘Popular Philosophy’?,” in Virtues for the People: Aspects of Plutarchan Ethics (ed. G. Roskam and L. Van der Stockt; Leuven: Leuven University Press, 2011), 41-58.

70 See also Plutarch, Princ. iner. 781A; Frag. 143; Aud. 37D.

181 but by itself alone, the body remains in repose and at rest, neither sharing nor partaking in the activity of the mind, so long as the body does not have to deal with the emotional element or include the non-rational in such activity” (Virt. mor. 451B

[Helmbold]). The attainment of such contemplative virtue involves assimilation to the

Supreme One, inasmuch as this is possible.

The second form of virtue that Plutarch posits is called moral virtue (ἡ ἠθικὴ

ἀρετή). A human achieves moral virtue when he contemplates those things whose existence is conditioned upon humans’ existence. Moral virtue, according to Plutarch, is a consequence of humans’ existence: human souls have not only a rational portion

(which contains traces of the divine, pre-existent Intellect), but also a non-rational and disorderly soul-part. Moral virtue is aimed at reconciling these two soul-parts (Virt. mor. 443D-444D). Through the acquisition of moral virtue, a human is likened to the

Demiurge, or that intermediate God who is responsible for creation.71 Plutarch thus envisions a first stage of divine assimilation that involves the acquisition of moral virtue and a second stage of divine assimilation that involves the acquisition of contemplative virtue. Few exceptional individuals can progress from the acquisition of

71 Plutarch contrasts the supreme God (whom he identifies as Apollo) with an inferior and intermediate god who is responsible for creation and the administration of worldly affairs (E Delph. 393F-304A); John Dillon, “Plutarch and God: Theodicy and Cosmogony in the Thought of Plutarch,” in Traditions of Theology: Studies in Hellenistic Theology, its Background and Aftermath (ed. D. Frede and A. Laks; Boston: Brill, 2001), 227-228.

182 moral virtue to the acquisition of contemplative virtue, and thus my discussion of

Plutarch’s program of moral progress will focus primarily on the acquisition of moral virtue. Subsequent references to “virtue” in this chapter, therefore, should be taken to refer to moral virtue unless otherwise specified.

Plutarch’s understanding of the creation of the human soul and its resultant divisions has great ramifications for his understanding of moral progress. Plutarch envisions the human soul as a copy of the World-Soul, the latter of which is created when the intermediate God combines non-rational, disorderly Soul with orderly

Intellect.72 The human soul thus has one part that is rational and intelligent, and another part that is non-rational, disorderly, and the cause of emotions and appetites.

Plutarch works to reconcile this bipartite view of the human soul with the tripartite vision that Plato often touts in his works. The non-rational portion of the soul, according to Plutarch, includes both the appetitive and spirited soul-parts of which

Plato writes; thus, although Plutarch’s human soul is basically bipartite, Plutarch views

72 On Plutarch’s notion of psychogonia (the creation of the World-Soul), see his treatise Anim. proc. See also Jan Opsomer, “Plutarch’s De animae procreation in Timaeo: Manipulation or Search for Consistency?” BICS 47, Special Issue (2004): 137-162; and Radek Chlup, “Plutarch’s Dualism and the Delphic Cult,” Phronesis 45.2 (2000): 138-158.

183 this bipartition as merely another way of expressing the tripartition that Plato discusses.73

As a human cultivates reason and virtue, according to Plutarch, his rational soul-part will come to control the non-rational parts. Within the soul of the wise person, the rational and non-rational parts will live harmoniously. Following Plato’s lead, Plutarch often uses the metaphor of charioteering in describing the desired relationship between the rational and non-rational parts of the human’s soul:

Now well-trained beasts of burden, even if their driver lets go the reins, do not attempt to turn aside and leave the road, but in their accustomed manner they go on in their places and keep to their course without mishap; and so it is in the case of persons in whom the non-rational impulse (τὸ ἄλογον) has already been rendered obedient and gentle by reason and has been thoroughly chastened. (Virt. prof. 83A-B [Henderson, slightly modified])74

73 Plutarch’s bipartite division of the soul contradicts both Plato’s three-fold division of the soul (into rational, appetitive, and spirited portions) and the Stoics’ vision of a unified, fully rational soul. Plutarch, however, only attacks the Stoic view (Virt. mor. 440E-441D). He makes a concerted effort, on the other hand, to reconcile his bipartite vision of the soul with Plato’s three-fold division. Plato’s tripartite soul, Plutarch claims, is actually bipartite: the appetitive and spirited portions both belong to the non-rational part of the soul (Virt. mor. 441F-442B). For more on Plutarch’s reworking of Plato’s three-fold division, see Jan Opsomer, “Plutarch on the division of the soul,” in Plato and the Divided Self (ed. R. Barney, T. Brennan, and C. Brittain; New York: Cambridge University Press, 2012), 319-324.

74 See also Plutarch, Virt. mor. 443C-D. Cf. QP 9, in which Plutarch uses the chariot metaphor to discuss the tripartition of the soul and the relationship between the reasoning, spirited, and appetitive faculties.

184 Plutarch’s bipartite division of the soul, of course, has ramifications for Plutarch’s views on the πάθη, but I will sidestep this issue for now and return to it later in this chapter when I describe the exact steps which constitute Plutarch’s system of moral progress.

Like Philo and other Platonists before him, Plutarch asserts that a human’s ability to cultivate wisdom and advance in virtue depends upon three things: his natural inclination toward virtue, his education, and his devotion to practice and training. A human who lacks any of these three things – natural virtue, virtue from education, or virtue from habit – is not entirely incapable of moral progress, but he will never attain complete and perfect virtue (Lib. ed. 2A-B).75 If a human lacks natural virtue, for instance, he may prove to be particularly recalcitrant and hostile to his teachers, and he may choose to pursue an inferior education. Given the proper education, however, a person’s natural character may be remolded and reformed for the better.76 In fact, Plutarch is adamant that the most important of the three factors

75 See also Plutarch, Cohib. ira 459B; Tranq. an. 465C; Garr. 520D-522E.

76 On the varying dispositions of students as obstacles to learning, see Plutarch, Virt prof. 76D, 82A. Timothy E. Duff, “Models of Education in Plutarch,” JHS 128 (2008): 1-26, analyzes the tension present in Plutarch’s thought between the developmental model of education (that is, the notion that education affects the development of character) and the static model of education (that is, the notion that character is formed in childhood and affects a person’s attitude toward education). Duff, 20, concludes that these two models are in tension, but not completely contradictory: “One has…certain innate leanings, and education may correct or reinforce these; without proper education, innate traits become features of settled character.”

185 influencing virtue acquisition is education (παιδεία): out of all the things in this world, education alone is divine and immortal (Lib. ed. 4C, 5C, 5E). Plutarch does not speak at length in the Moralia about the exact topics that comprise such an education, as do

Plato and Philo, but he does, like Philo, contrast lower-levels of education (such as gymnastics) with the highest level of education – philosophy (Lib. ed. 7D, 8C-D).

Plutarch often highlights the virtues and vices of women in his writings, and his opinion regarding the ability of women to acquire virtue varies depending on context and audience.77 In the Moralia he discusses quite often the virtues of exceptional women, including those of his wife and women of various ethnicities. In the Lives

Plutarch also attributes great virtue to several elite women.78 In writing to his friend

Clea, a priestess at Delphi, Plutarch claims that the virtues of women and men are identical:

When Leontis, that most excellent woman (τῆς ἀρίστης), died, I forthwith had then a long conversation with you, which was not without some share of consolation drawn from philosophy, and now, as you desired, I have also written out for you the remainder of what I would have said on the topic that man’s virtues and woman’s virtues are one

77 Bradley Buszard, “The Speech of Greek and Roman Women in Plutarch’s Lives,” CP 105.1 (Jan. 2010), 83, suggests that Plutarch’s depictions of women are the most extensive analyses of female character by any ancient author.

78 The essays in the Moralia most discussed with regard to Plutarch’s position on women are: Amatorius, Mulierum virtutes, Coiungalia praecepta, and Consolatio ad uxorem. As Buszard, 84, notes, the Lives have been relatively neglected amongst scholars by comparison.

186 and the same (τὸ μίαν εἶναι καὶ τὴν αὐτὴν ἀνδρὸς καὶ γυναικὸς ἀρετὴν). (Mul. virt. 242F-243A [Babbitt])

In more abstract contexts, however, Plutarch considers women to be weak, deceitful, savage, wanton, nosey, emotional, and frivolous.79 Thus Plutarch’s opinion of women and their ability to acquire virtue squares well with the views of Seneca and Philo: all three philosophers believe that women are far less inclined toward virtue than men, but they concede that some exceptional women may acquire more virtue than is typical of women in general.

Though Plutarch addresses many times in his Moralia the knowledge and practices necessary for the acquisition of virtue, he also devotes an entire treatise to describing in detail the specific signs of progress in virtue (Virt. prof.). The treatise begins as an attack on the Stoic idea of the wise person’s instantaneous change from vice to virtue, with Plutarch arguing that humans’ ability to perceive their own progress in virtue decisively demonstrates that the acquisition of virtue is gradual rather than instantaneous.80 Plutarch then goes on to enumerate signs of moral

79 On women’s proclivity toward anger, for example, see Plutarch, Cohib. ira 457A-B. For more on Plutarch’s less-than-rosy portrayal of women, see Peter Walcot, “Plutarch on Women,” SO 74 (1999): 163-183; and Ann Chapman, The Female Principle in Plutarch’s Moralia (Dublin: University College Dublin Press, 2011).

80 Plutarch, Virt. prof. 75A-76C. It is important to remember here, however, that Stoics do conceive of the acquisition of virtue as a gradual process. They simply believe that one

187 progress, clustering these signs into nine different groups.81 The first group consists of signs related to the continuity and persistence of the progressing person in acquiring virtue. Once a human perceives that he is regularly and habitually fighting vice, he will know that he is well on his way toward achieving perfect virtue.82 Mildness (πραότης) and lack of jealousy (φθόνος, ζηλοτυπία) constitute the next general sign of progress, and the virtue of mildness remains an important characteristic of the advancing person throughout Plutarch’s corpus.83

The third and fourth signs of moral progress that Plutarch details are the presence of ethos- and pathos-filled discourse and deeds, as opposed to displays of ostentatious and superficial discourse and deeds.84 For instance, a person’s discourse

progresses toward virtue rather than in virtue. See Roskam, On the Path to Virtue, 224-247 for an analysis of Plutarch’s argument.

81 Roskam, On the Path to Virtue, gives a fastidious account of Plutarch’s treatise, dealing with each of the signs of progress in detail. In the notes that follow, as I refer to a specific sign, I will note both the Plutarchean passage being discussed, as well as the pages corresponding to that Plutarchean passage in Roskam’s analysis.

82 Plutarch, Virt. prof. 76C-78A; Roskam, On the Path to Virtue, 247-255. This insistence on the need for constant vigilance and daily review of one’s faults is also present in Seneca.

83 Plutarch, Virt. prof. 78A-E; Roskam, On the Path to Virtue, 255-267. On mildness as an important virtue in Plutarch’s ethics, see Roskam, On the Path to Virtue, 256-259.

84 Plutarch, Virt. prof. 78E-80E (with respect to discourse), 80E-82F (with respect to deeds); Roskam, On the Path to Virtue, 267-300.

188 should be aimed at imparting his knowledge to others rather than gaining momentary glory:

It is therefore imperative that we consider carefully whether, as for ourselves, we employ our discourse for our own improvement, and whether, as it affects others, we employ it, not for the sake of momentary repute, nor from motives of ambition, but rather with the wish to hear and to impart something; but most of all must we consider whether the spirit of contention and quarrelling over debatable questions has been put down, and whether we have ceased to equip ourselves with arguments, as with boxing-gloves or brass knuckles, with which to contend against one another, and to take more delight in scoring a hit or a knockout than in learning and imparting something. (Virt. prof. 80B [Babbitt])

As I shall later show in Chapter Four, Paul too emphasizes as part of his program of moral development such communal encouragement. In 1 Cor Paul insists that followers of Christ should employ their discourse, deeds, and prophesying toward building up their companions rather than engaging in quarrels and dividing into factions.

Under the category of authentic and ethos-filled deeds, Plutarch also includes as a sign of progress a person’s desire and willingness to have his own errors examined and corrected by others:

“For a person who is in error to submit himself to those who take him to task, to tell what is the matter with him, to disclose his depravity, and not to rejoice in hiding his fault or to take satisfaction in its not being known, but to confess it, and to feel the need of somebody to take him in

189 hand and admonish him, is no slight indication of progress” (Virt. prof. 82A [Babbitt, slightly modified]).85

After describing a fifth sign of moral progress, which is characterized by the experience of untroubled dreams, Plutarch proceeds to discuss the sixth characteristic of the progressing person: mildness (ἔνδοσις, πραότης) of corrupt emotions (πάθη). 86

Following standard Middle Platonic theory, Plutarch recommends moderation or mildness of corrupt emotions throughout his corpus.87 As he writes in Virt. mor. 451C:

[The human] has, therefore, some portion of the non-rational also and has innate within him the mainspring of emotion (πάθη), not as an adventitious accessory, but as a necessary part of his being, which should never be done away with entirely, but must needs have careful tending and education. Therefore the work of reason is…to do as the god who watches over crops and the god who guards the vine do – to lop off the wild growth and clip away excessive luxuriance, and then to cultivate and to dispose for use the serviceable remainder. (Helmbold, slightly modified)

85 Cf. 1 Cor 14:23-25.

86 Plutarch believes that a fifth sign of moral progress is sleep that is filled with calm, bright, and untroubled dreams: after all, if a human has truly habituated the non-rational portion of his soul, this disruptive portion will remain tamed and not cause troublesome dreams. Plutarch ends his discussion of this fifth sign by suggesting that the lack of troubled dreams is a characteristic of the fully wise person, rather than the progressing person (Plutarch, Virt. prof. 82F-83E; Roskam, On the Path to Virtue, 300-312).

87 Plutarch, Virt. prof. 83E-84B; Roskam, On the Path to Virtue, 312-320. On the moderation or mildness of πάθη, see: Plutarch, Cohib. Ira; ibid., Virt. mor. 444B-C; Opsomer, “Plutarch on the division of the soul,” 315-316; and Richard Wright, “Plutarch on Moral Progress,” in Passions and Moral Progress in Greco-Roman Thought (ed. J. Fitzgerald; New York: Routledge, 2008), 136-150.

190 Plutarch claims that the progressing human is not likely to eradicate the πάθη because the rational faculty of the progressing human, in most cases, can only control or harmonize with the non-rational soul-part. The rational faculty of the soul does not wish to stamp out the πάθη, nor could it do so if it wanted (Virt. mor. 443C-D). Rather, reason wishes to control and alleviate the πάθη. A progressing person can learn to control his emotions by observing the origins and effects of the πάθη in others, by practicing control of the πάθη, and by punishing himself if he fails to control his πάθη.88

Plutarch’s bipartite conception of the soul and his support of μετριοπάθεια would seem to preclude his support of ἀπάθεια, the Stoic notion of the eradication of corrupt emotion. Yet at times, Plutarch, like Philo, does refer to ἀπάθεια as a laudable goal, perhaps even characteristic of the highest stage of moral progress: “Complete eradication of the corrupt emotions (ἀπάθεια) is great and divine, and progress (ἡ

προκοπὴ), as they say, is like some alleviation and mildness of the corrupt emotions”

(Virt. prof. 83E). 89 This dual emphasis on μετριοπάθεια and ἀπάθεια arises from

Plutarch’s division of virtue into moral and contemplative types. Plutarch associates the eradication of the corrupt emotions with contemplative virtue, or the ability of the

88 Plutarch’s mouthpiece Fundanus describes the process that he went through in learning to control his anger in Cohib. ira 445E-464D.

89 See also Plutarch, Virt. prof. 82F, 83B.

191 intellect to ignore entirely and transcend the concerns of the body. It is through contemplation alone that the corrupt emotions are eradicated. The acquisition of moral virtue is concerned only with alleviation of the πάθη because moral virtue is aimed at determining how a human’s rational and non-rational soul-parts work in conjunction with one another.

After describing the mildness of the πάθη as a sign of moral progress, Plutarch lists another sign of moral development: consistency between words and deeds. The progressing person will increasingly emulate what he commends and practice what he admires. Imitation helps in molding one’s deeds to one’s words: if ever a person needs to readjust his habit or resist the onset of a corrupt emotion, he may use as a standard of judgment the actions of good men, past and present (Virt. prof. 84B-85B).90 This sign in particular demonstrates the necessity of the existence of hierarchical moral differentiation amongst humans: if a human is to correct his faults, he will need to imitate a human who is much wiser than he. The eighth and ninth signs of moral progress listed by Plutarch are dealt with in rather swift fashion compared to the preceding enumerations of signs. Plutarch claims that the progressing person will be

90 Roskam, On the Path to Virtue, 320-335. On imitation see also Plutarch, Lib. Ed. 10D-E. Cf. Seneca’s emphasis on the utility of imitation.

192 able to meet a highly moral man without embarrassment or timidity, and the progressing person will be mindful of all of his faults, not just some.91

The signs of moral progress that Plutarch details in Virt. prof. are very much interrelated, and many of the same motifs recur throughout the essay. For example,

Plutarch repeatedly emphasizes mildness – in emotional responses, in social interactions, and in discourse. Plutarch also often writes of the need for self-awareness, continuity, consistency, and genuineness.92 As Geert Roskam notes, Plutarch’s essay on progress in virtue “should not be understood as merely an enumeration of disconnected ἐπιλογισμοί, but as a cumulative list of clustering indications, which depict basically one homogeneous, and at the same time varied, process of προκοπή.”93

Therefore Plutarch, like Philo, creates a schema of moral progress that is undeniably built upon a Middle Platonist framework. Like other Middle Platonists,

Plutarch believes the goal of philosophy to be assimilation to God. Plutarch follows

Middle Platonist doctrine in asserting that progress in virtue depends upon innate ability, habituation, and instruction. Following Plato, Plutarch conceives of an

91 On the ability to meet a man of high repute without timidity: Plutarch, Virt. prof. 85B-D; Roskam, On the Path to Virtue, 336-343. On being mindful of all one’s faults: Plutarch, Virt. prof. 85E-86A; Roskam, On the Path to Virtue, 343-350.

92 See Roskam, On the Path to Virtue, 353-357, regarding these recurring motifs.

93 Ibid., 285, sans original italics.

193 embattled soul divided into rational and non-rational parts, and he views moral progress as requiring reconciliation between these two portions of the soul. He also, however, touts as a sign of moral perfection a human’s ability to separate the concerns of the rational soul-part from the non-rational soul-part, averring that the highest form of virtue can only be achieved through the mind’s contemplation of first principles. Finally, like Philo and Plato, Plutarch recommends both μετριοπάθεια and

ἀπάθεια, asserting that the former state is characteristic of a less advanced stage of progress than the latter state. Whereas μετριοπάθεια is a laudable goal for those acquiring moral virtue, ἀπάθεια is the end goal of those more advanced individuals who can separate their minds from their bodies.

Thus Plutarch’s program of moral progress, like that of Philo, displays a great degree of flexibility, incorporating into one program a wide range of philosophical views. Seneca’s program of moral progress, though admitting of extra-tradition supplementation, lacks the overall flexibility and openness of the programs promoted by Philo and Plutarch. Ultimately, as we have seen, the flexibility of Plutarch’s and

Philo’s programs is attributable to the inherent ambiguity of Plato’s thought. These observations will have great significance for our study of Paul in the chapter to which we now turn. There I will argue that the content of Paul’s program of moral progress

194 aligns more closely with the programs of moral development promoted by contemporary Middle Platonists, and I attribute this to the fact that the Middle

Platonist framework of moral progress is simply more flexible than that of the Stoics.

Paul’s use of Middle Platonic concepts allow him a great degree of flexibility in explicating a program of moral progress for Christ followers, and this, in turn, enables him to better address practical issues that arise amongst developing Christ followers.

195

CHAPTER FOUR

Paul’s Program of Moral Development for Christ Followers

In preceding chapters I described the parameters of Stoic, Platonic, and

Epicurean systems of moral progress in a generalizing manner and then examined the particular programs of virtue acquisition outlined by Philo of Alexandria, Seneca the

Younger, and Plutarch of Chaeronea. I argued two major points. First, the program of moral progress espoused by the Jew Philo of Alexandria is as much a representative of ancient Mediterranean philosophical ideas about moral progress as are the programs promoted by Plutarch and Seneca. Second, the programs of moral progress crafted by the Middle Platonists Philo and Plutarch are more flexible, creative, and open to extra- tradition supplementation than is the program of moral progress espoused by the Stoic

Seneca. The greater malleability and flexibility of Middle Platonic theory is at least partially attributable to the fact that Plato’s ethical thought is far less systematic and rigid than that of the founding Stoics.

In the present chapter I elucidate Paul’s program of moral progress for Christ followers. In doing so I demonstrate that, out of the three ethical systems examined in

196 this dissertation thus far, the content of Paul’s program aligns most closely with, and is best illuminated through comparison with, Middle Platonic ethics. Though Paul integrates into his program of moral progress amenable Stoic and Epicurean ideas, as do the Middle Platonists Philo and Plutarch, Paul’s overall approach to moral development more closely resembles that of Philo and Plutarch than it does that of

Seneca. In this chapter I also argue that the high degree of alignment between Paul’s thought and Middle Platonic ideas is directly related to Paul’s ability to draw from disparate religious and philosophical traditions in crafting his program of moral progress. Although Paul may not be drawing his ideas directly from the writings of

Plato or Philo, the flexibility of the Platonic notions with which he operates allows him to easily supplement these notions with amenable Stoic and Epicurean ideas in addressing his particular ethnic and religious concerns.

I begin this chapter with an examination of the base moral condition that Paul imagines non-Jewish Christ followers to possess, for Paul’s program of moral development is specifically aimed at correcting non-Jews’ default, vicious existence. I then closely examine Paul’s notion of moral development as it is described in several key passages from 1 Thess (3:12-4:12), Phil (1:9-11, 1:25-26, 3:7-17), and Gal (5:16-6:6). In my analysis of these passages, I demonstrate that Paul does indeed conceive of Christ

197 followers as gradually and incrementally progressing in virtue. I also limn the steps of moral development that Paul describes in these passages and compare Paul’s thought with contemporary, Mediterranean philosophy. I then deliver a comprehensive summary of Paul’s program of moral progress, addressing additional issues such as the ability of women to progress in virtue. Finally, I end the chapter with concluding remarks regarding the extent to which Paul’s program aligns with Middle Platonic ethics. These remarks include a refutation of arguments made by Troels Engberg-

Pedersen, a leading New Testament scholar and one of the foremost authorities on the relationship between Paul’s thought and Stoicism. Throughout the present chapter I argue without recourse to 1 Cor 2:6-3:4, since a thorough explication of this passage will be given in the following chapter.

The Basic Moral Condition of Non-Jews

As indicated in the Introduction to this project, Paul directs his program of moral progress at non-Jews, and I do not think it wise to extrapolate from Paul’s vision of non-Jews’ moral progress a program of Jewish moral development. This is because

Paul believes that Jews and non-Jews, understood in the collective sense as ethnic groups, differ in their relationships with God and their propensities toward vice.

Certainly, Paul asserts that both Jews and non-Jews will be judged individually and

198 impartially by God on the day of Christ’s arrival.1 Yet Paul makes broad, sweeping characterizations of Gentile culture as idolatrous, apostate, vicious, and corrupted, and he refrains from leveling such condemnatory generalizations at Jews in a collective sense.

At the heart of Paul’s censures of non-Jews lies a myth of the origins of Gentile idolatry that Paul relates at the start of his letter to the Romans. In Rom 1:18-32 Paul explains the devolution of idolatrous peoples into complete moral corruption. Though

Paul does not use the exact term τὰ ἔθνη to refer to these idolatrous peoples in Rom

1:18-32, their very acts of idolatry confirm their identification as non-Jews.2 Paul explains that non-Jews’ apostasy caused God to hand them over to sexual defilement, corrupt emotions, appetitive desires, and the gamut of vice. Nowhere in his letters does

Paul portray the Judean nation or Jews collectively in this same manner. Paul does claim that some Jews have stumbled and refuse to submit to God, but he does not

1 Regarding God’s impartial judgment of individual Jews and non-Jews, see Rom 2:9-16, 2:25- 29, 3:9, 10:12-13.

2 Emma Wasserman, Death of the Soul, 119-122, succinctly summarizes the arguments of Thomas Tobin, Stanley Stowers, and Dale B. Martin against the association of the Rom 1:18-32 myth with the fall of Adam or the Israelites’ worship of the golden calf. Rom 1:18-32 also shares much in common with stories of Gentile idolatry told by Philo and the author of the Wisdom of Solomon, as has long been recognized by scholars.

199 consider Jews, as a collective entity, to be prone to idolatry and viciousness.3 Paul’s condemnations of Gentile culture thus suggest that non-Jews, by virtue of their ethnicity’s propensity toward vice, begin their trek toward virtue at a disadvantage to the Jews, who have been entrusted with the law and already paid the price for a measure of their vice-motivated wrongdoings.4 Non-Jews, in part as a result of their ethnic status, are so mired in vice that the mechanisms and steps whereby they may achieve virtue cannot be assumed to be identical to those of the Jews.5 It is thus irresponsible, from a methodological standpoint, to take Paul’s ideas about the moral progress of non-Jewish Christ followers as representative of his ideas about the moral

3 Compare, for example, Paul’s broad characterization of Gentiles as vicious in Rom 1:18-32 and as sinners in Gal 2:15 with his more measured statements about the stumbling of some Jews in Rom 9:31-10:4 and 11:1-11:12; cf. 1 Thess 2:16. Stowers, Rereading, 128, also notes that Paul’s treatments of Jewish and Gentile culture are not analogous.

4 Paul, like the author of 2 Macc and other ancient Jews, believes that God disciplines and punishes the Jewish nation for its collective sins periodically in order that Jews not pay the full price for the lot of their sins at the end of times. Nations of non-Jews who do not trust in God and Christ, on the other hand, will receive full punishment for the entirety of their sins on the day of reckoning: God passes over their sins only for now. Non-Jews can avoid this accumulation of sins by putting their trust in Christ, whom God puts forth to reconcile and dismiss the sins that non-Jews have accumulated (Rom 2:5, 3:25-26; 1 Cor 11:32). See Sam K. Williams, Jesus’ Death as Saving Event: The Background and Origin of a Concept (HDR 2: Missoula, Mont.: Scholars Press, 1975); Stowers, Rereading, 104-6.

5 As we shall see in this chapter’s section on Gal 5:16-6:6, the inherent viciousness of non- Jews is not only attributable to their ethnic status, but to their fleshly existence as well. For more about the way in which Paul envisions non-Jews’ ethnic status to contribute to the vicious tendencies of their flesh, see Wasserman’s discussion of the relationship between Rom 1:18-32 and Rom 7:7-25 in Death of the Soul, 117-128.

200 progress of Jews (though there may have been many similarities in his approach to the moral progress of these distinct ethnic groups). In what follows, therefore, I describe

Paul’s program of moral progress for non-Jews who trust in Christ.

Moral Abounding in 1 Thessalonians

On the shores of the Aegean, during the middle of the first century CE, a group of people living in Thessaloniki conducted their lives and served the God of Christ Jesus in such an exemplary manner that Paul wrote of their renown throughout Macedonia and Achaia. Despite their noteworthy activities, however, Paul believed that these

Thessalonians might still improve their virtuous conduct. Seeking to encourage their endeavors of love and piety despite his physical absence from Thessaloniki, Paul wrote to these people:

May the Lord increase and abound you in love (πλεονάσαι καὶ περισσεύσαι τῇ ἀγάπῃ) for one another and for all, just as we also do for you, for the purpose of supporting your blameless hearts in holiness before our God and Father in the arrival of our Lord Jesus with all his holy ones. Furthermore, then, brothers, we ask you and encourage you in Lord Jesus, so that – just as you receive from us how you must live and please God (περιπατεῖν καὶ ἀρέσκειν θεῷ), and just as you do live – you may abound more and more (περισσεύητε μᾶλλον). For you know that we gave some commands (παραγγελίας) to you through the Lord Jesus. For this is the will of God, your sanctification: for you to keep yourself shut off from sexual apostasy and defilement (πορνεία);6 for each of you

6 Much debate exists over the meaning of πορνεία in the context of Paul’s letters and early Christian literature. My decision to translate πορνεία as “sexual apostasy and defilement”

201 to know the controlling of his own body (ἑαυτοῦ σκεῦος κτᾶσθαι)7 in sanctity and honor, not in corrupt emotion of desire (ἐν πάθει ἐπιθυμίας), just as also the other nations that have not known God, not surpassing and gaining an advantage over his brother in this matter (τὸ μὴ ὑπερβαίνειν καὶ πλεονεκτεῖν ἐν τῷ πράγματι), because the Lord is an avenger concerning all these things, just as I also proclaimed and bore witness to you. For God does not call us for impurity but in sanctification. Accordingly, the one dealing treacherously deals treacherously not with man, but with God, the one giving his holy πνεῦμα to us. And concerning brotherly love, you do not have need of us writing to you, for you yourselves are taught by God for the purpose of rather than the specific, sexually-oriented “prostitution” or the more generalizing “sexual immorality” is largely influenced by the work of Kathy L. Gaca, The Making of Fornication: Eros, Ethics, and Political Reform in Greek Philosophy and Early Christianity (Berkeley: University of California Press, 2003). As Gaca, 20, states: “Biblical πορνεία refers to acts of sexual intercourse and reproduction that deviate from the norm of worshipping God alone. Πορνεία as ‘fornication’ requires biblical monotheism to be intelligible as a sexual rule, insofar as sexual intercourse and procreation are fornication, and forbidden, by virtue of not being dedicated to the Lord alone. In the non-biblical Greek sense, however, πορνεία means ‘prostitution’ and has nothing to do with worshipping God alone.” Gaca convincingly argues that Paul takes up and develops Septuagintal notions of πορνεία as sexual apostasy and religious harlotry in promoting “his emergent Christian brand of religious endogamy and biblical monotheism in Christ the Lord” (189). Of particular importance for this discussion are Gaca’s chapters on Paul’s views regarding πορνεία, pp. 119-189.

7 Scholars are fairly divided over the meaning of this phrase: does ἑαυτοῦ σκεῦος κτᾶσθαι refer to the acquisition of a wife or the possessing of one’s body? Substantial arguments can be made on behalf of either proposition, with neither suggestion being completely impervious to criticism. Though both biblical and non-biblical Greek authors use the phrase γυναῖκα κτᾶσθαι to denote the procurement of a wife, I remain unconvinced that this helps us to determine the meaning of Paul’s σκεῦος κτᾶσθαι. Paul’s only other uses of σκεῦος (Rom 9:20-23 and 2 Cor 4:7) are in reference to the body, not a wife. Thus I translate σκεῦος as “body,” understanding Paul to be encouraging the Thessalonians to control their corrupt emotions and desires which arise, in part, from their bodily condition. I do, however, remain well aware not only that other renderings of σκεῦος κτᾶσθαι are possible, but also that such renderings would necessarily change our interpretation of the gender dynamics of this passage. Cf. O. Larry Yarbrough, Not Like the Gentiles: Marriage Rules in the Letters of Paul (SBLDS 80; Atlanta: Scholars, 1985), 68-76; and R. F. Collins, “‘This is the Will of God: Your Sanctification’ (1 Thess 4:3),” LTP 39.1 (1983): 27-53.

202 loving one another; indeed, you do it for all of the brothers in all of Macedonia. And we encourage you, brothers, to abound more and more (περισσεύειν μᾶλλον): to be ambitious in living quietly, managing your own affairs, and working with your own hands, just as we commanded you, in order that you may live decorously toward outsiders, and in order that you may have need of no one. (1 Thess 3:12-4:12)

In this passage Paul exhorts the Thessalonians to abound in love, self- sufficiency, and behavior that is pleasing to God – that is, he encourages Christ followers to progress in virtue by cultivating proper behaviors.8 The proper behaviors to which Paul refers can be divided into two main categories: proper use of the body

(specifically, abstention from πορνεία and the rejection of bodily actions engendered by corrupt emotions and desires)9 and proper social conduct (specifically, not gaining an advantage over fellow Christ followers in matters of bodily purity and not relying upon outsiders).10 Paul mentions these appropriate behaviors in conjunction with the virtues

8 As discussed in Chapter One of this dissertation, I operate in the present chapter with a broad notion of virtue as “dispositions and habits of character that are good and proper.”

9 It is likely, though not entirely clear, that the use of the body to which Paul refers in this passage is specifically sexual use of the body; Paul elsewhere connects non-Jews’ possession of corrupt emotions and desires with shameful and unnatural sexual behavior (Rom 1:24-27).

10 Regarding the philosophical, and particularly Epicurean, resonances of the proper social conduct described in 1 Thess 4:11, see Abraham J. Malherbe, “Anti-Epicurean Rhetoric in 1 Thessalonians,” in Text und Geschichte: Facetten theologischen Arbeitens aus dem Freundes- und Schülerkreis, Dieter Lührmann zum 60. Geburtstag (MTS 50; ed. S. Maser and E. Schlarb; Marburg: Elwert Verlag, 1999), 136-142; see also Malherbe, The Letters to the Thessalonians: A New Translation with Introduction and Commentary (AYB; New Haven: Yale University Press, 2004), 246- 260. Malherbe claims that Paul’s comments in 1 Thess 4:11 are a negative reaction to some

203 of love (ἀγάπη) and brotherly love (φιλαδελφία), which seem to be good and proper dispositions.11 Paul also alludes to the virtues of piety and self-sufficiency by exhorting the Thessalonians to please God and live quietly, though he does not directly name such virtues.12

In order to describe Christ followers’ progress in these virtues and their cultivation of appropriate behavior, Paul uses the concept of “abounding”

(περισσεύειν).13 Paul often uses περισσεύειν in this regard: throughout his letters, he

Epicurean leanings amongst the Thessalonians. I am less inclined to interpret Paul’s use of philosophical language here in this way, mostly because our data is scant. Rather, I follow Malherbe’s more moderated suggestion that Paul draws upon Platonist rhetoric (in his exhortation to ambition) and Epicurean rhetoric (in his exhortations to living quietly and managing one’s own affairs) in this passage in order to guide his communities toward proper conduct.

11 I consider ἀγάπη and φιλαδελφία, as used by Paul, to be virtues rather than good emotions since Paul appears to conceive of these forms of love as sustained dispositions rather than fleeting impulses.

12 Cf. Phil 4:11. I agree with Abraham J. Malherbe, “Paul’s Self-Sufficiency (Philippians 4:11),” in Light from the Gentiles: Hellenistic Philosophy and Early Christianity: Collected Essays (ed. C. R. Holladay et al.; NovTSup 150; Leiden: Brill, 2014), 325-338, who suggests that Paul understands self-sufficiency (αὐτάρκεια) not in a technical Stoic sense, but in the general sense of self-sufficiency that promotes and undergirds friendly social relations.

13 In a general sense, the verb περισσεύω means “to be over and above” or “to be more than enough” (LSJ, s.v. περισσεύω). Persons deemed the subject of περισσεύω may be said to “abound in” something, or “to be superior.” The majority of attestations of this verb appear in later Christian literature (in the works of Pauline interpreters such as Origen, John Chrysostom, Theodoret, and Gregory of Nyssa). The verb is used less frequently in non-Christian Greek literature, such as scholia on the Homeric poems, Septuagintal texts (such as Ben Sirach), Josephus’ works, and medical texts.

204 encourages Christ followers to abound in virtues such as faithfulness, love, and hope (1

Cor 15:58; 2 Cor 8:7; Rom 15:13).14 Paul emphasizes the gradual and incremental nature of this “abounding” through his use of the qualifier “more and more” (μᾶλλον) (1 Thess

4:1). Paul also conceives of the Thessalonians abounding in virtue, not toward virtue.

The Thessalonians already conduct themselves in accordance with love, piety, and self- sufficiency; Paul merely wants them to do so even more. This notion of progressing in virtue rather than toward virtue aligns well with Platonic and Epicurean ethics, but it directly contradicts a basic tenet of Stoic ethics. Whereas the Stoics insist that a progressing person does not possess virtue until he is instantaneously transformed into a sage, Paul envisions progressing Christ followers as achieving virtue in successive stages.

Paul links the cultivation of virtue and appropriate behaviors with the acquiring of particular knowledge, partially attributing the brothers’ abundance in love, piety, and self-sufficiency to their acceptance of commands regarding proper bodily and social conduct. This explicit epistemological dimension of Christ followers’ increasing moral abundance is confirmed elsewhere in the authentic corpus, particularly in the

14 Paul does occasionally use περισσεύω, however, to indicate the superiority of certain Christ followers (see 1 Cor 8:8, 14:12; Phil 4:12, 18). Moreover, περισσεύω does not always refer to the action of Paul’s correspondents: Paul also speaks of the abounding action of Christ’s sufferings and the abounding of the service of righteousness, for example (see 2 Cor 1:5, 3:19, 4:15, 9:12).

205 Corinthian correspondence. 15 Amongst the most important pieces of knowledge necessary for the moral development of Christ followers are: knowledge of the Jewish

God that results in proper worship, recognition of the importance of Christ’s death and resurrection for the reconciliation of non-Jewish Christ followers’ wrongdoings, the correct interpretation of certain Jewish writings, and knowledge regarding the witnessing of Christ’s resurrected body by the apostles and some five hundred others.16

Accompanying Christ followers’ acquisition of such knowledge is the strengthening of

Christ followers’ minds. “Do not be conformed to this age,” Paul writes to Roman Christ followers, “but be transformed in the renewal of the mind for the purpose of your examining what is the will of God, that which is good and acceptable and perfect” (Rom

12:2). Christ followers cannot conduct themselves in accordance with goodness without first discerning and understanding the nature of goodness.

15 Regarding the confluence between Paul’s references to “abounding” and the acquisition of knowledge, see 1 Cor 15:51-58 (“Behold, I tell you a mystery…and so, my beloved brothers, be steadfast, immovable, abounding [περισσεύοντες] in the work of the lord always, knowing that your toil is not empty in the Lord”); and 2 Cor 8:7-8 (“But as you abound in everything – in faithfulness and in word and in knowledge, and in all earnestness, and in love from us to you – so that also you may abound in this favor…”); cf. 1 Cor 2:1.

16 In the myth that Paul relates in Rom 1:18-32 regarding the origins of Gentile idolatry, he implicitly associates knowledge of God with the development of virtue by noting the association between non-Jews’ ignorance of God and their possession of vice. Consider, in particular, Rom 1:28-31. Here Paul claims that those Gentiles of the past who did not see fit to know God (οὐκ ἐδοκίμασαν τὸν θεὸν ἒχειν ἐν ἐπιγνώσει) were given up to a debased mind and the practice of vice. Regarding the importance of other teachings for the acquisition of virtue, see 1 Cor 15:3-9 and Rom 3:21-26.

206 That Paul considers intellectual development necessary for Christ followers’ moral progress should come as no surprise given his historical context. After all, as noted in Chapters Two and Three, ancient Mediterranean philosophers also conceive of moral progress as intimately connected with intellectual progress, though specific philosophical schools take varying positions regarding the degree to which moral and intellectual progress are intertwined. Equally unsurprising in light of Paul’s historical context is his warning against the controlling of one’s body with regard to corrupt emotion of desire (ἐν πάθει ἐπιθυμίας) in 1 Thess 4:5. As discussed in previous chapters, ancient Mediterranean philosophers believe that moral development entails the control and/or eradication of corrupt emotions and desires. Corrupt emotions and desires are considered corrupt because they result from the malfunctioning of a human’s rational faculty. As progressing persons develop in virtue and their rational faculties strengthen, they begin to curb the onset of corrupt emotions and desires. The

Stoics believe that moral progress culminates in the eradication of corrupt emotions and the possession of good emotions such as joy (a good emotion which, as I shall later demonstrate, Paul also lauds).17 This is because the Stoics conceive of a soul that is fully rational, with no non-rational parts; thus Stoic perfected rationality entails the full

17 It bears repeating that the Stoics do consider certain emotions to be good (εὐπαθεῖαι); such emotions are the property of the sage. Epicurus also likely considers the emotions of pleasure and pain to be advantageous.

207 elimination of corrupt emotions and the full possession of true emotions. Middle

Platonists, on the other hand, tend to emphasize moderation, rather than elimination, of corrupt emotions. This is because Plato conceives of humans’ souls as divided into rational and non-rational parts. Corrupt emotions and appetitive desires originate not from the false beliefs of the rational soul, but from the non-rational portions of the soul. Because humans are not generally capable of entirely ignoring or ridding themselves of these non-rational soul-parts, Middle Platonists typically recommend that the rational faculty aim to control corrupt emotions and appetitive desires. Middle

Platonist thought on this subject, however, is quite malleable. As discussed in Chapter

Three, elimination of the corrupt emotions is also recommended by Middle Platonists such as Philo and Plutarch, but these philosophers emphasize that such elimination is characteristic of only the highest stage of moral progress. Progressing persons are not generally capable of fully eliminating the corrupt emotions.18

18 Plato and his Middle Platonist devotees assign the primitive emotions to the non-rational spirited portion of the soul, while they assign desires for food, drink, and sex, along with their attendant emotions, to the non-rational appetitive portion of the soul; see my discussion on this topic in Chapter Two as well as the concise explanation provided by Wasserman, Death of the Soul, 20-31. As noted in my discussions of Philo’s and Plutarch’s ethical systems, however, complete eradication of corrupt emotions is sometimes lauded by Middle Platonists. In general, Middle Platonists hold that the vast majority of people cannot eradicate their corrupt emotions because the non-rational portion of their souls cannot be eradicated. A few wise individuals, however, may eradicate these non-rational impulses (e.g. Moses, according to Philo).

208 Paul’s statement in 1 Thess 4:5 that proper control of a Christ follower’s body does not involve the “corrupt emotion of desire” (ἐν πάθει ἐπιθυμίας) indicates that he shares with the ancient philosophers concern over the dangers that corrupt emotions and desires present to the person progressing in virtue.19 The extent to which Paul is influenced by specifically Stoic or Middle Platonic conceptions of the corrupt emotions and desires in this passage, however, is not entirely clear. Considering 1 Thess 4:5 in isolation from the rest of Paul’s letters, three interpretations regarding the meaning of

“the corrupt emotion of desire” are possible. The first option is that Paul is not directly influenced by specifically Stoic or Middle Platonic doctrine regarding the corrupt emotions and desires: no philosophical theories influence his claims, and he instead merely operates with a folk notion regarding the dangers that emotions and desires present to progressing persons. The second option is that Paul’s statements here should be approached from a basically Stoic perspective. Desire (ἐπιθυμία) is the term used by

Stoics for a genus of corrupt emotions.20 If Paul was somehow informed by Stoic theory

19 I should note here that Paul is capable of employing this language of desiring with a neutral or positive force, but in such instances it is clear that Paul writes more generally of longing or yearning, rather than the specific desires of the appetite; see Phil 1:22-25, 1 Thess 2:17.

20 Subsumed under the category of “desire” are corrupt emotions such as anger (ὀργή), heatedness (θυμός), and erotic love (ἔρος). For ancient witnesses on this issue, see Stobaeus, Ecl.

209 on this point, his reference to the “corrupt emotion of desire” in 1 Thess 4:5 would emphasize desire as a type of corrupt emotion. In this reading Paul would be warning the Thessalonians about controlling their own bodies’ desires. The third option is that

Paul approaches the topic of corrupt emotions and desires from a specifically Middle

Platonic perspective. Read in this light, Paul warns against those corrupt emotions that are generated by the ἐπιθυμητικόν (the non-rational, desiring portion of the Platonic, tripartite soul).21

It is impossible to adjudicate between these options if we consider 1 Thess 4:5 in isolation from the rest of Paul’s letters. Yet a consideration of Paul’s statements elsewhere in the authentic corpus regarding the corrupt emotions and desires suggests that Paul’s notion of corrupt emotions and desires aligns best with the perspective of

Middle Platonism. To be sure, much of what Paul writes in his letters about the corrupt emotions and desires aligns with general philosophical thoughts on the subject. Stoics,

Middle Platonists, and Epicureans alike would have agreed with Paul about the positive correlation that he posits between corrupt emotions, wrongdoing, and vice-ridden states. Ancient philosophers also would have generally agreed with one another, and

2.88,8-90,6 (LS 65A), 2.90,19-91,9 (LS 65E); Cicero, Tusc. 4.12-15. For a concise marshaling of the ancient evidence, see Graver, Stoicism and Emotion, 53-4 (Figure 3), 56 (Figure 4).

21 Both Plutarch, Virt. mor. 446F-447A (LS 65G); and Galen, Plac. 4.2.1-6 (LS 65D), contrast Platonic and Stoic views regarding the genesis of desire within the soul.

210 with Paul, about the positive correlation between good emotions, virtue, and wisdom.

Two key aspects of Paul’s thought on the corrupt emotions and desires, however, betray the influence of Middle Platonism. First, Paul often writes of humans’ corrupt and appetitive desires as arising from their mortal, fleshly bodies.22 As I demonstrated in Chapters Two and Three, this association of the body with vice is characteristic of

Plato’s thought and is not typical of Stoic and Epicurean thought.23 Second, Paul appears to follow the Middle Platonists Philo and Plutarch in advocating the moderation of corrupt emotions and desires for the vast majority of Christ followers while simultaneously lauding eradication as the preferred action of those well advanced in virtue. When Paul gives recommendations to Christ followers regarding marriage, for example, his emphasis is on control of sexual desire rather than elimination (1 Cor 7:5, 36-38). And when Paul recommends a solution to the

Corinthians’ gluttonous eating practices, he aims to manage the Corinthians’ hunger

22 Rom 1:24-27, 6:12-13, 13:14; Gal 5:16-18. Cf. 2 Cor 10:1-6, in which Paul emphatically notes that Christ followers do not conduct themselves in accordance with the flesh. Though Abraham J. Malherbe, “Antisthenes and Odysseus, and Paul at War,” HTR 76.2 (1983): 143-173, does an excellent job of demonstrating the similarities between Paul’s martial imagery in this passage and similar ideas in ancient philosophy, I do not agree with his statement that Paul means living “in flesh” simply as living “in the world” (p. 170).

23 For my discussion of Plato’s association of corrupt desire with the fleshly body, see pp. 124-126 of this dissertation. Epicureans consider good and proper those bodily desires that are both natural and necessary. Stoics conceive of desire as resulting from a malfunctioning of the rational soul, rather than as a yearning generated by the body that cannot be eradicated.

211 rather than telling them to disregard it entirely (1 Cor 11:33-34). Because Paul, like the

Platonists, associates corrupt emotions and desires with the fleshly body, he recognizes the difficulty that the flesh-bound Christ follower faces in attempting to entirely eliminate corrupt emotions and desires. Thus he focuses on controlling corrupt emotions and desires rather than eliminating them. Paul does once suggest, however, that the ultimate goal for Christ followers is complete eradication of the corrupt emotions and desires, claiming that Christ followers have crucified the sufferings and desires of the flesh (Gal 5:24). This dual emphasis on the moderation and eradication of corrupt emotions aligns well with Middle Platonic thought. Though Paul, unlike Philo and Plutarch, does not specifically state that moderation and elimination are two successive steps to be taken by progressing Christ followers, my sense is that Paul would have been more amenable to Middle Platonic, rather than Stoic or Epicurean, approaches to dealing with corrupt emotions and desires.

Paul goes on in 1 Thess 4:5 to add an ethnic-religious dimension to his warning against the possession of corrupt emotions and desires: such impulses are characteristic of the non-Jewish peoples who do not know God (τὰ ἔθνη τὰ μὴ εἰδότα

τὸν θεόν). This association of corrupt emotions and desire with those ethnic-religious groups who do not know God is best understood in light of Paul’s myth of Gentile

212 apostasy (Rom 1:18-32). As previously mentioned, Paul believes that God made himself known to nations of non-Jews, but these peoples did not glorify him or render him thanks. Instead, Gentiles chose to worship idols. In return, God gave them up to sexual impurity, corrupt emotions, debased minds, inappropriate actions, and every kind of vice.24 It appears that the myth related in Rom 1:18-32 informs Paul’s statements in 1

Thess 4:5: Paul advises his non-Jewish Thessalonian brethren to stave off the corrupt emotions and desires that characterize the impious and foolish ethnic-religious groups of which they were formerly members.25

Paul’s association of vice, foolishness, corrupt emotions, and excessive desires with the ethnic-religious “other” is by no means a unique rhetorical tactic – rather, it is a particularized deployment of a stratagem commonly used in the moralizing treatises of ancient intellectuals, including philosophers. Ancient intellectuals often write of barbarians’ tendencies toward vice, all the while praising the virtues of exemplary

24 It is worth noting that when Paul claims that God gave up impious Gentiles to inappropriate actions in Rom 1:28, he uses a negation of the technical, philosophical term τὰ καθήκοντα, or “appropriate actions” (ποιεῖν τὰ μὴ καθήκοντα). “Appropriate action,” as mentioned in Chapter Two, is a technical term first used by the Stoics to refer to the everyday, good actions of a progressing person. The term is also used, however, by Middle Platonists such as Philo.

25 1 Thess 1:9-10 identifies the Thessalonians as non-Jews who have turned from idolatry to worship of the true God.

213 Greeks and Romans. 26 Out of the philosophers that we have examined, Philo of

Alexandria’s mapping of ethnic-religious distinctions onto his program of moral development aligns most closely with Paul’s thought. Philo shares with Paul an adherence to the ethnic-religious dichotomy of Jews (Ἰουδαῖοι) versus non-Jews (τὰ

ἔθνη). Philo often extolls the virtuousness of the Jewish people and their teachings while lambasting other ethnicities, particularly the Egyptians, for their vicious, pleasure-seeking, and impious actions.27 Both Philo and Paul also admit that non-Jews who honor and embrace God’s teachings may possess virtue (though the two men disagree on what non-Jews’ honoring and embracing of God’s teachings entails).28

Despite these similarities, however, Paul’s condemnation of Gentiles’ inherent viciousness is more sustained and generalizing than that of Philo. Philo intimates that non-Jews who do not know God can attain some measure of virtue, and he does not, like

26 Stowers, Rereading, 62-63. For an example of the way in which Roman discourses about ethnicity and virtue were intertwined, see Christopher B. Krebs’ article on Roman representations of Germania (“Borealism: Caesar, Seneca, Tacitus, and the Roman Discourse about the Germanic North,” in Cultural Identity in the Ancient Mediterranean [ed. E. S. Gruen; Los Angeles: Getty Research Institute, 2011], 202-221).

27 On Philo’s condemnation of non-Jews, particularly Egyptians, and his association of Gentiles with the flesh, corrupt emotions, and appetitive desires, see Sarah J.K. Pearce, The Land of the Body: Studies in Philo’s Representation of Egypt (WUNT 208; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2007).

28 On Philo’s acknowledgement of virtue amongst those non-Jews who honor and embrace God’s teachings, see Mos. 2.15-20, Mut. 150; cf. Her. 272-3. Philo also writes of the Judean nation serving as a guide to pleasure-seeking and corruptible Gentiles (Spec. 2.163-167; cf. Migr. 119- 120).

214 Paul, provide his readers with any myth explaining the origins of Gentiles’ propensity toward vice.29 Paul, on the other hand, suggests that non-Jews are inherently driven toward vice on account of their ancestors’ apostasy and idolatry.

Various agents have a hand in promoting the Thessalonians’ moral development: God the Father (1 Thess 4:9), Lord Jesus (3:12-13), Paul and his companions (4:1-2, 10), and the Thessalonians themselves (4:9-10). Jesus increases and abounds the Thessalonians in love, and God teaches the Thessalonians how to love one another. Paul and his companions (designated by “we”) assume the responsibility of issuing commands to the Thessalonians and reminding them of such commands, despite Paul’s claims that the guidance given to the Thessalonians by God renders

Paul’s actions unnecessary.30 The Thessalonians themselves also control some part of their own moral progress, for Paul charges them with abounding in virtue. Paul, however, does not provide in 1 Thess 3:12-4:12, or anywhere in the authentic corpus, a precise explanation of the ways in which these three agents work together to help

Christ followers acquire virtue. (Though, as we shall see, Paul’s statements about the role of God’s πνεῦμα elsewhere in his letters give us a slightly fuller picture regarding

29 Philo, Spec. 4.55.

30 It is not entirely clear whom Paul includes in his collective “we,” but it is reasonable to assume that “we” includes, at the very least, Silas and Timothy, the companions whom Paul mentions at the start of 1 Thess.

215 the relationship between God’s and humans’ own work in virtue acquisition.) Indeed, the ambiguities present in Paul’s thought on this subject have spawned concentrated and sustained attempts at clarification by some of the greatest minds in Christian history. To explain the way in which God and a Christ follower work together to help the Christ follower achieve virtue, Christian theologians and intellectuals over the millennia have crafted grand and complicated theories regarding the relationship between God’s grace, human free will, and predestination. Paul himself, however, simply does not pit the agency of God against human responsibility and agency in the way that later Christian intellectuals do. Nor does Paul see these things as mutually exclusive. I will address this issue in greater detail later in this chapter, so for the moment I lay aside Paul’s ambiguous statements on this subject.

Finally, in 1 Thess 3:13 Paul briefly hints at the purpose of Christ followers’ moral development. Paul writes that the Thessalonians’ gradual and incremental abounding in love is “for the purpose of supporting [Christ followers’] blameless hearts in holiness before our God and Father in the arrival of our Lord Jesus with all his holy ones.” Christ followers’ progress in virtue results in the acquisition of cultic markers of virtue such as holiness (ἁγιωσύνη), sanctity (ἁγιασμός), and honor (τιμή). Non-Jews must acquire such states if they are to be active and worthy participants in the end-

216 times scenario that Paul envisions.31 I will say more about the cultic purposes of moral progress in the following section.32

In 1 Thess 3:12-4:12, then, Paul describes Christ followers’ acquisition of virtue as a gradual and incremental process in which pious non-Jews abound more and more.

Christ followers must attain knowledge about proper bodily and social conduct, Christ followers must act upon this knowledge, and Christ followers must develop the virtues of love, piety, and self-sufficiency. Paul’s vision of moral progress also involves the control and, possibly, elimination of the corrupt emotions and desires, which accompany the foolish condition of non-Jewish peoples. Those who acquire virtue do so through their own volition, but also with the help of God, the Lord Jesus, Paul, and his companions. In the end, the acquisition of virtue renders a Christ follower holy and pure, and these conditions are considered desirable statuses for Christ followers when the Lord Jesus and other holy beings come to rule over the world.

31 States of being such as holiness, purity, sanctity, and honor are not technically good habits of character since they can be taken to apply to inanimate objects. They are, rather, cultic status markers that indicate the virtuousness of the human agent to which they are applied. (See my discussion of “cultic markers of virtue” in Chapter One.)

32 As I will later discuss, I agree with those scholars (such as Terence Donaldson, Paula Fredriksen, E. P. Sanders, and Brent Nongbri) who believe that Paul subscribes to the notion of an end-time scenario in which non-Jews will join Jews in festivities at Mount Zion and in worship at the temple in Jerusalem. This explains the reasons for Paul’s concern with the holiness and purity of non-Jews: in order for non-Jews to take part in worship at the Jerusalem temple, they must be rendered holy and pure.

217 Pursuit of the Prize in Philippians

Over a hundred miles to the east of Thessaloniki on the Via Egnatia, another group of Christ followers received exhortations toward moral development from Paul, the man whose message they had helped to propagate among the Macedonians.

Expressing his desire for an increase in these Christ followers’ love and knowledge, Paul greets his sponsors in Philippi:

And this I pray, so that your love may abound still more and more in knowledge and in all perception (ἡ ἀγάπη ὑμῶν ἔτι μᾶλλον καὶ μᾶλλον περρισσεύῃ ἐν ἐπιγνώσει καὶ πάσῃ αἰσθήσει) for the purpose of your examining the most important things (τὰ διαφέροντα), so that you may be pure and blameless on the day of Christ, having been filled full with the reward of righteousness (δικαιοσύνης), a reward that is through Jesus Christ for the glory and praise of God….I know that I will remain and stand by all of you for the purpose of your progress (προκοπὴν) and joy of faithfulness, so that your boast may abound (περισσεύῃ) in Christ Jesus in me after my arrival again to you. (Phil 1:9-11, 25-26)

Later in this same letter,33 Paul resumes his encouragement of the Philippians’ moral progress, addressing the disadvantages of circumcision for non-Jews’ righteousness by contrasting his Jewish accolades (that is, his “trust in the flesh”) with his gradual gain of Christ:

33 I remain unconvinced by arguments in favor of the notion that Philippians is a compilation of multiple letters, siding with the position expressed by Peter T. O’Brien, The Epistle to the Philippians (NIGTC; Grand Rapids, Mich.: Wm. B. Eerdmans Publishing Co., 1991), 10- 18; contra John Reumann, Philippians: A New Translation with Introduction and Commentary (AYB; New Haven: Yale University, 2008), 8-13.

218 Whatever things were gains (κέρδη) for me, these I have considered a loss. But then, I also consider all things to be a loss because of the surpassing of knowledge (τὸ ὑπερέχον τῆς γνώσεως) of my Lord Christ Jesus, on account of whom I suffered the loss of all things. I consider them crap, in order that I may gain Christ and be found in him, not having my righteousness that is from law, but my righteousness that is through the faithfulness of Christ, the righteousness from God in dependence upon faithfulness (τὴν ἐκ θεοῦ δικαιοσύνην ἐπὶ τῇ πίστει), because of knowing him and the power of his resurrection and communion of his sufferings, being conformed to his death, if somehow I may come into resurrection from the dead. Not that already I seized it, or already I have been made perfect (τετελείωμαι), but I pursue if also I may overtake, on which basis I too was overtaken by Christ Jesus. Brothers, I do not reckon myself to overtake, but one thing: forgetting the things behind and extending myself forward, I pursue the end (κατὰ σκοπὸν διώκω) for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus. Therefore as many as are mature (τέλειοι), let us think this, and if you think something differently, God also will reveal this to you. Only at that which we arrive first, let us be in line with it (πλὴν εἰς ὅ ἐφθάσαμεν τῷ αὐτῷ στοιχεῖν). Brothers, together be imitators of me, and examine (σκοπεῖτε) the ones living in this manner just as you have us as a model. (Phil 3:7-17)

In these passages Paul describes the moral development both of his Philippian brothers and himself, repeating and supplementing the ideas about moral progress that he presents in 1 Thess 3:12-4:12. The virtues that Paul mentions in association with moral progress are love, joy, and faithfulness (Phil 1:9, 25).34 Moreover, Paul states that

34 It is difficult to ascertain whether or not Paul conceives of joy and love as good emotions (in the general philosophical sense of a short-lived response to a particular right belief) or as virtues (in the general philosophical sense of an enduring, good disposition or habit of character). I am inclined to think that Paul views love and joy as both virtues and emotions. Of particular note in this regard is Paul’s inclusion of love and joy with a list of dispositions that he

219 righteousness (δικαιοσύνη) accompanies moral progress (Phil 1:11, 3:8-11). Does Paul follow the ancient philosophers, however, in considering righteousness a virtue? The meaning of “righteousness” in Paul’s letters is a complicated and hotly debated issue, and I cannot hope to entirely resolve the matter here. Nevertheless, I will briefly clarify the importance of righteousness in Paul’s program of moral development.

Paul writes about the righteousness of both God and humans, and I understand the former (δικαιοσύνη τοῦ θεοῦ) to refer to a virtue, or perfect disposition, of God that demonstrates God’s faithfulness toward his people, his adherence to his promises, and his commitment to merciful justice (Rom 1:17, 3:21-22, 3:25-26).35 Paul conceives of human righteousness, on the other hand, not as a virtue strictly speaking, but as something more like a marker of virtue. When Paul uses the term “righteousness” to refer to the state of humans, it functions as a marker of God’s acknowledgement of a humans’ virtue (specifically, as a marker of humans’ faithfulness to God). The story of labels the fruit of the πνεῦμα (Gal 5:22). Paul often associates love and joy with other virtues (such as honesty, faithfulness, mildness, and self-control), rather than emotions. Paul also writes of “living in accordance with love.” This suggests that he considers love to be more of a constant disposition than a momentary or fleeting good emotion. On the other hand, many of Paul’s statements could be taken as construing joy as a good emotion (2 Cor 7:13, Phil 2:2, Phil 2:29, 1 Thess 2:19-20; Philemon 7), so this dimension of joy should not be fully discounted. It is most important to recognize that, regardless of whether or not Paul sometimes speaks of love and joy as good emotions and sometimes as virtues, he always gives them a positive valence, associating them often with the holy πνεῦμα and God (Rom 14:17, Rom 15:13).

35 I rely here on the work of Sam K. Williams, “The ‘Righteousness of God’ in Romans,” JBL 99.2 (1980): 241-290; see also Stowers, Rereading, 171-172, 196.

220 Abraham’s circumcision in Rom 4 is instructive in this regard. Because Abraham trusted in God, God reckoned his faithfulness to him as righteousness (Rom 4:3-6, 9, 18-22; Gal

3:6).36 Humans’ faithfulness toward God leads to their designation as righteous. A crucial difference exists, however, between the default moral status of Abraham and the default moral status of the non-Jews to whom Paul writes. Because non-Jews are prone to vice and the corrupt emotions that God afforded their ancestors in recompense for their ancestors’ apostasy, non-Jews cannot achieve righteousness merely on the basis of their own faithfulness. Non-Jews’ righteousness is reckoned to them on account of both their own faithfulness as well as Christ’s and Abraham’s faithfulness toward God (Gal 3:6-14). When Paul writes of non-Jews’ “righteousness from/out of faithfulness” (ἡ δικαιοσύνη ἡ ἐκ πίστεως) or “righteousness of faithfulness” (ἡ δικαιοσύνη ἡ πίστεως), it is not always clear as to whether he refers to the righteousness that is reckoned on account of humans’ own faithfulness, or the righteousness that is reckoned on account of Christ’s and Abraham’s faithfulness. I would contend that it is, in fact, both. The ambiguity serves Paul well: in claiming that righteousness is “out of faithfulness,” Paul can refer to non-Jews’ righteousness as simultaneously dependent upon their own faithfulness and the faithfulness of Christ

36 Cf. Rom 1:17.

221 and Abraham (Rom 4:11, 4:13, 9:30-31; Gal 5:5-6).37 I will address the exact relationship of righteousness to the cultic markers of virtue such as holiness and purity later in this chapter; for now it will suffice to note that I consider righteousness to be a marker of virtue acquisition that is primarily associated with the attainment of faithfulness and thus relevant to our discussions of Paul’s program of moral development.

In describing Christ followers’ development in virtue and their attainment of states such as righteousness in his letter to the Philippians, Paul uses the language of

“abounding,” “progress,” and “pursuing the end.” Echoing his description of the

Thessalonians’ incremental abundance in virtue, Paul expresses his desire that the

Philippians’ love “may abound still more and more in knowledge and in all perception for the purpose of your examining the most important things” (1:9).38 In praying that the Philippians’ love may gradually develop in knowledge and perception, Paul explicitly emphasizes the epistemological dimension of moral abounding. The exact meaning of this phrase is unclear, however: how is it that love can abound in knowledge and perception? I have no definitive answer to this question, though I do

37 Regarding Paul’s use of the phrase οἱ ἐκ πίστεως to allude to the faithful actions of Abraham and Christ as well as the new lineage formed from these faithful actions, see Johnson Hodge, If Sons, Then Heirs, 79-91.

38 Cf. Phil 1:26, in which Paul expresses his desire that the Philippians’ boast in Jesus Christ abound in him.

222 find it plausible that Paul means to imply that Christ followers can only progress in love if they gain an understanding of the rationales behind their acts of love, learning whom they should love and why they should love. This interpretation squares well with the approach of ancient philosophers, who posit that the progressing person gradually develops by learning the rationales behind virtuous action. Regardless of the precise meaning of Paul’s statement, Paul clearly considers the acquisition of virtue and the cultivation of knowledge to be mutually entailing, as do ancient philosophers. Progress in virtue and progress in knowledge are not two steps in a linear process. Paul wishes for the Philippians’ love to abound in knowledge, and this act of progressing in love is done for the purpose of examining important things.39

Paul also refers specifically to the Philippians’ moral progress using the term

προκοπή: “I know that I will remain and stand by all of you for the purpose of your progress (προκοπή) and joy of faithfulness” (1:25).40 As mentioned in Chapter Two,

προκοπή is a technical term employed by ancient philosophers to refer to moral development. Though the term is primarily associated with the Stoics, it is also used by

Middle Platonists, such as Philo and Plutarch, who found it amenable to their programs

39 Cf. Rom 12:2, in which Paul encourages the Romans to strengthen and renew their minds for the purpose of examining vital things.

40 Engberg-Pedersen, Paul and the Stoics, 88, briefly notes the connection that Paul draws between the Philippians’ joy in faithfulness and the notion of progress in faithfulness.

223 of moral development.41 Paul’s use of προκοπή in Phil 1:25 retains the moral valence attributed to this term by philosophers. Though Paul is certainly capable of employing

προκοπή and its related verb forms in reference to the general advancement of inanimate things (Phil 1:12, Rom 13:12), the surrounding context of Phil 1:25 indicates that Paul here uses προκοπή to refer to the moral progress of the Philippians. Paul relates προκοπή to the joy of faithfulness (which appears to be a virtue or good emotion) and writes of προκοπή in close conjunction with his discussion of abounding in love.42

In Phil 3:7-17 Paul again emphasizes the gradual nature of Christ followers’ moral development in describing his pursuit of the end. Outlining the process whereby he (as well as his Philippian imitators) aims at gaining Christ, righteousness, and

41 See p. 86 n.16 of this dissertation.

42 It is also possible that Paul uses the related verbal form προέκοπτον in Gal 1:14 to refer to some kind of moral advancement in Ἰουδαϊσμός (sometimes translated as “Judaizing”). Presumably describing his life prior to his proclaiming the good news to the Gentiles (regarding this prior life, see Gal 1:15-16, Phil 3:6, Gal 1:22-24, and Gal 5:11), Paul writes in Gal 1:13-14: “For you heard of my concern once with Ἰουδαϊσμός, that I was pursuing the assembly of God in excess and I was ruining it, and I was progressing in Ἰουδαϊσμός, exceeding many of my contemporaries amongst my kin, being a follower/zealot of my fathers’ tradition in a superior manner” (Ἠκούσατε γὰρ τὴν ἐμὴν ἀναστροφήν ποτε ἐν τῷ Ἰουδαϊσμῷ, ὅτι καθ᾽ ὑπερβολὴν ἐδίωκον τὴν ἐκκλησίαν τοῦ θεοῦ καἰ ἐπόρθουν αὐτήν, καὶ προέκοπτον ἐν τῷ Ἰουδαϊσμῷ ὑπὲρ πολλοὺς συνηλικιώτας ἐν τῷ γένει μου, περισσοτέρως ζηλωτὴς ὑπάρχων τῶν πατρικῶν μου παραδόσεων). What exactly Paul means by “progressing in Judaizing,” however, is unclear; cf. Steve Mason, “Jews, Judaeans, Judaizing, Judaism,” 460-469, on the meaning of ὁ Ἰουδαϊσμός in antiquity and in Paul’s letters.

224 resurrection, Paul asserts that he extends himself forward (ἔμπροσθεν ἐπεκτεινόμενος) and pursues the end (κατὰ σκοπὸν διώκω).43 Such language of extension and pursuit suggests a gradual and incremental process. The end cannot be gained in an instant, according to Paul, but must be relentlessly chased.44 Paul further highlights the gradual nature of this process by comparing his pursuit of the end to participation in athletic competition: Paul strives toward “the prize (τὸ βραβεῖον) of the upward call of God in

Jesus Christ.” A similar comparison between athletic competition and pursuit of the ultimate ethical end crops up in Paul’s first extant letter to the Corinthians. Though

Paul’s main emphasis in this passage is the necessity of the virtue of self-control in achieving the ultimate end, the notion of gradual moral development remains operative:

Do you not know that all the ones running in the stadium are running, but only one receives the prize? Run in this way so that you may seize it! Everyone competing exercises self-control (ἐγκρατεύεται) in all things. Now, those in the stadium compete so that they may receive a perishable crown, but we compete to receive an imperishable one. Therefore I do not run as one running secretly; I do not box as one thrashing the air. But I punch my body and I enslave it, so that I myself, after proclaiming to others, may not be unacceptable. (1 Cor 9:24-26)

43 Though the term τέλος is more commonly employed by ancient philosophers to refer to the ethical goal of life, σκοπός is also used. See Annas, The Morality of Happiness, 34-35, on the difference between the terms σκοπός and τέλος in ancient philosophical literature.

44 Cf. Paul’s command to “pursue love and strive for pneumatic gifts” in 1 Cor 14:1.

225 In order that he might receive the crown of eternal life, Paul gradually exercises the virtue of self-control, striking his body and enslaving it. Paul expects the Corinthians to train themselves in a similar manner, competing for the imperishable crown just as he does.

As many scholars have noted, Paul’s use of athletic imagery is unsurprising given ancient Hellenistic and Roman philosophers’ widespread use of the ἀγών metaphor in describing the process of moral development.45 Consider, for example,

Plato’s conclusion to the Republic:

We shall hold ever to the upward road and pursue righteousness with practical intelligence (δικαιοσύνην μετὰ φρονήσεως παντὶ τρόπῳ ἐπιτηδεύσομεν) always and ever, in order that we may be dear to ourselves and to the gods both during our sojourn here and when we receive our reward (τὰ ἆθλα), as the victors in the games (οἱ νικηφόροι) go about to gather in theirs. And thus both here and in that journey of a thousand years, which we have recounted, we shall fare well. (621C-D [Shorey, slightly modified])

Though the similarities between Paul’s use of athletic imagery and ancient philosophers’ use of the ἀγών motif are well documented within New Testament scholarship, some scholars, influenced by the Lutheran contrast of works versus grace,

45 The standard reference work on this topic is that of Victor C. Pfitzner, Paul and the Agon Motif: Traditional Athletic Imagery in the Pauline Literature (NovTSup 16; Leiden: Brill, 1967), 23-72, who traces the use of the ἀγών motif in ancient Mediterranean philosophy and religion, examining its use by writers such as Aristotle, Philo, Seneca, Josephus, Marcus Aurelius, Epictetus, Plutarch, and the author of 4 Macc.

226 argue that Paul’s purpose in using athletic imagery differs from that of the ancient philosophers. Whereas Greek and Roman philosophers use athletic imagery for the purpose of depicting the gradual process of moral development, the athletic struggles that Paul describes in Phil 3:14 and 1 Cor 9:24-26 do not depict any type of personal achievement of virtue.46 Victor Pfitzner is most explicit in his defense of this view, claiming that Paul uses athletic imagery not to portray Christ followers’ struggles in virtue acquisition, but to emphasize Paul’s own toils in spreading his message. As

Pfitzner states in his analysis of 1 Cor 9:24-26:

It appears impossible that Paul could regard his proclamation [in 1 Cor 9:24-27] as summons and challenge “to moral achievement, discipline and struggle”! Parallel with Paul’s kerygma there runs a didactic and paraenetic concern, but the kerygma itself, as the preaching of divine grace in Jesus the Christ, is not to be confused with a summons to a moral Agon. This would be to convert Paul into one of the numerous itinerant morality-preachers of his day. In any case, as we have seen, v.26f. deals with Paul’s own Agon and his own selfrenunciation [sic] in the service of the Gospel, not with an ethical struggle common to all believers.47

46 E.g., John Paul Heil, Philippians: Let us Rejoice in Being Conformed to Christ (Atlanta: SBL, 2010), 130-131; cf. Paul A. Holloway, Consolation in Philippians: Philosophical Sources and Rhetorical Strategy (New York: Cambridge University Press, 2001), 141-142.

47 Pfitzner, Paul and the Agon Motif, 95-96. See also ibid., 7, in which Pfitzner poses the problem thus: “How could [Paul] fit this image which typifies the Greek spirit of self assertion, of human achievement and endeavour, into his own theological system of thought with its emphasis on human impotence and divine grace?”

227 As I have suggested in Chapter One, the Lutheran contrast between virtue/works and grace must not be allowed to color interpretations of Paul’s comments about moral development. Both Paul and the ancient Mediterranean philosophers use athletic imagery to supplement and enhance their descriptions of virtue acquisition. Paul and the philosophers highlight the gradual and incremental nature of moral development through comparisons with the toil and dedication required for athletic success; they also emphasize the glory of the prize received for such toil through comparison with athletic trophies. In this instance, there is no fundamental difference between Paul’s use of the ἀγών motif in describing moral progress and ancient philosophers’ deployment of similar imagery.

Paul describes his own pursuit of the end in Phil 3:7-17 in an attempt to model for his Philippian brethren the proper way to go about acquiring virtue. In Phil 3:17 he calls upon the Philippian Christ followers to imitate his own conduct as well as that of other mature Christ followers. Explicit calls to imitation (μίμησις) occur in Paul’s first letters to the Thessalonians and Corinthians as well. Paul praises the Thessalonians for their imitation of him, his companions, the Lord, and the assemblies of Christ followers in Judea (1 Thess 1:6, 2:14). Paul encourages the Corinthians to become imitators of him, just as he is an imitator of Christ (1 Cor 4:16, 11:1). As we saw in previous chapters, calls

228 to imitation are prevalent amongst the writings of the ancient philosophers such as

Seneca and Plutarch, who exhort their charges to imitate exemplary men as well as God himself. Ancient philosophers are quite explicit about the purpose of imitation, writing that progressing persons need to see virtue in action in order to be able to reproduce it.48 Surely, this is part of the motivation behind Paul’s exhortations to mimesis. Yet, as

Elizabeth Castelli notes, calls to mimesis do not serve the single purpose of enabling progressing persons to more fully develop in virtue. Paul’s insistence that Christ followers imitate him also reinforces Paul’s privileged position in relation to the communities that he envisions and places at a premium the notion of like-mindedness, unity, and harmony.49

48 Abraham J. Malherbe, Paul and the Popular Philosophers (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1989), 56-58, argues that Paul’s calls to imitation differ from those of ancient philosophers in two ways. First, Paul suggests that Christ followers imitate him, whereas ancient philosophers (particularly the Stoics) are more reluctant to tout themselves as virtuous exemplars worthy of imitation. I am in agreement with this assessment. Malherbe then goes on to suggest, however, that Paul emphasizes imitation of the Spirit’s work rather than Paul’s own deeds; this, Malherbe notes, also puts Paul’s mimesis discourse at odds with those of the ancient philosophers. It seems to me that in asserting this second difference between Paul and the philosophers, Malherbe operates with too firm a distinction between Paul’s works and the work of the Spirit. I thus disagree with Malherbe in his conclusion that these differences amount to Paul’s complete recasting of the philosophical theme of imitation.

49 Elizabeth A. Castelli, Imitating Paul: A Discourse of Power (LCBI; Louisville, Kent.: Westminster/John Knox press, 1991), 117, writes that Paul’s exhortation to imitate him “is no simple case of emulating a benign ethical model, and cannot be condensed to refer to a self- evident social pragmatism. Rather, its dependence on the ideology of mimesis suggests that it has a much more profound significance, that it constructs the early communities within a

229 In Phil 3:12 Paul claims that even he has not been made perfect or mature

(τετελείωμαι): Paul has yet to reach the end goal of sanctification and eternal life. Yet in Phil 3:15 Paul exhorts “mature” Christ followers (τέλειοι), among which he includes himself, to follow his example in pursuing the ultimate ethical end. “As many as are mature, let us think this,” claims Paul. Admittedly, Paul’s simultaneous disavowal and assertion of his own maturity, as well as the maturity of others, seems contradictory.

But this contradiction is easily resolved when we note that Paul conceives of this category of maturity as one that is admitting of degree. Paul envisions a group of Christ followers, a group among which he counts himself, who are generally more mature, wise, and virtuous than other Christ followers. Yet even within this group there is room for still greater moral maturity. Mature Christ followers are encouraged to join Paul in advancing even closer to moral perfection. Indeed, these mature Christ followers will not achieve the greatest degree of maturity until, after death, they achieve resurrection, or the upward call of God in Christ Jesus. This echoes Platonic doctrine,

hierarchical economy of sameness which both appropriates the members of the early communities and reinscribes Paul’s privileged position as natural. It is at the level of this kind of social effect of the rhetoric of Paul’s discourse that the nature of mimesis in early Christian discourse can be seen in clearest terms, as a reinscription of imposed power relations as natural within the emerging social formation of early Christianity.”

230 which insists that perfection cannot be gained until the soul is entirely rid of the fleshly body.50

Paul describes his ultimate goal (and the ultimate goal of other Christ followers) as resurrection from the dead (Phil 3:10-11,14). Paul envisions Christ followers’ attainment of virtue to be directly linked to the reward of resurrection in the following way. To those Christ followers who abound in love, progress in faithfulness, and examine the important things, God gives the reward of righteousness (καρπὸν

δικαιοσύνης). Such righteousness then renders Christ followers pure and blameless so that they may be found worthy of resurrection on that future day in which Christ returns and God comes to rule the world (Phil 1:9-11, 3:9-11).51 Christ followers achieve resurrection from the dead, therefore, by living an earthly life characterized by purity, holiness, and blamelessness that results from the righteousness that God confers upon

Christ followers in return for their virtue. This description of the goal of Christ followers’ moral progress in Philippians is confirmed and clarified in Paul’s discussion of the purpose of baptism in Rom 6:12-23. In this passage Paul claims that by

50 E.g. Plato, Resp. 611B-612A; Phaed. 64C-67B. Paul differs from Plato on this issue in that he envisions Christ followers’ immortal state as bodily and material (Paul’s emphasis on the bodily nature of resurrection will be discussed in further detail below). Plato and the Middle Platonists, on the other hand, envision humans’ immortal state as immaterial.

51 See also Rom 2:6-8; Gal 5:5-6; 1 Thess 3:12-4:8.

231 controlling their corrupt emotions and obeying certain teachings, Christ followers become slaves to righteousness for the purpose of sanctification. This reward of righteousness leads to the sanctification of Christ followers and ends with the granting of eternal life. “Now, after being set free from sin and enslaved to God, you have your reward for the purpose of sanctification, and your end (τὸ τέλος) is eternal life” (Rom

6:23). Christ followers who gain virtue will have that virtue reckoned to them as righteousness, and this righteousness will lead to the sanctified and pure state necessary for the bestowal of eternal life. Presumably, such eternal life involves a continuation of Christ followers’ virtuous conditions.

The sanctity and purity that Paul imagines are conferred upon non-Jewish

Christ followers as a result of their acquisition of virtue and righteousness, then, certainly serves the ultimate purpose of achieving resurrection from the dead. Yet one may ask: why does Paul emphasize Christ followers’ attainment of holiness and purity in the service of resurrection? Why not simply state that Christ followers’ acquisition of virtue results in righteousness, and this results in resurrection? Why ascribe the cultic markers of holiness and purity to non-Jews? Here I would like to suggest that Paul envisions non-Jews as acquiring holiness and purity through their acquisition of virtue because he conceives of an end-times scenario in which non-Jewish Christ followers

232 will participate in worship at the Jerusalem temple in the end-times. Several scholars, including E. P. Sanders, Terence Donaldson, Paula Fredriksen, and Brent Nongbri, have persuasively argued that Paul interprets Jewish scriptures as attesting to an end-times scenario in which non-Jews participate in the worship of the God of Israel at his temple in Jerusalem.52 In order to participate in the cultic worship of the God of Israel, however, non-Jews must rid themselves of the impurities associated with their ethnic status. Paul therefore emphasizes the holiness and purity that accompanies non-Jews’ acquisition of virtue because he wishes to emphasize the way in which non-Jews’ acquisition of virtue enables them to participate in the cultic worship of Israel’s God at the end of days.

The overall picture of moral progress that emerges from Phil 1:9-11, 1:25-26, and

3:7-17 fits well with the steps of moral progress to which Paul alludes in 1 Thess 3:12-

4:12. Philippian Christ followers are encouraged to gradually progress in love,

52 See, for example, E.P. Sanders, Paul, the Law, and the Jewish People (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1983), 171; Paula Fredriksen, “Judaism, the Circumcision of Gentiles, and Apocalyptic Hope,” 544-548; ibid., “Paul, Purity, and the Ekklēsia of the Gentiles,” in The Beginnings of Christianity: A Collection of Articles (ed. J. Pastor and M. Mor; Jerusalem: Yad Ben-Zvi Press, 2005): 215-216; Terence L. Donaldson, Paul and the Gentiles: Remapping the Apostle’s Convictional World (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1997), 69-74; and Brent Nongbri, “Paul without Religion: The Creation of a Category and the Search for an Apostle Beyond the New Perspective” (Ph.D. Thesis; Yale University, 2008), 170-203. Nongbri, “Paul without Religion,” 175-182, summarizes and compares the views of the aforementioned scholars, noting the slight differences between their notions regarding Gentiles’ ethnic and religious status in the end-time scenario that Paul envisions.

233 faithfulness, and knowledge so that they may achieve the reward of righteousness. This righteousness confers upon these Christ followers a pure, blameless, and holy state which leads to the their future resurrection. Neither Paul nor any of the mature

Philippians, however, have achieved a fully virtuous state: they continue to strive after complete virtue in the way that an athlete relentlessly pursues a trophy. Those

Philippians who are less advanced in virtue are encouraged to imitate Paul and the mature in their quests for moral betterment.

Encouragement toward Virtue in Galatians

Whereas the love, piety, and faithfulness exhibited by the Thessalonians and

Philippians greatly impressed Paul, the conduct and dispositions of Christ followers in other areas of the Mediterranean left Paul infuriated and incensed. Various assemblies of non-Jewish Christ followers living in Galatia became major sources of discontent for

Paul,53 and Paul wrote at least one letter to these groups in which he castigates them for their foolish renunciation of his good message and their hasty embrace of the Jewish practice of circumcision. Hoping to set the Galatians back on their course toward eternal life, Paul reminds them of what it means to be running in a virtuous way:

53 Regarding the identity of the Galatians as non-Jews, see Gal 4:8-9. For a detailed and nuanced analysis of the ethnic-religious affiliations and identities of Paul’s addressees in Galatians, see Nanos, The Irony of Galatians, 75-85.

234 I say, walk in πνεῦμα and do not fulfill the desire of flesh. For the flesh desires against the πνεῦμα, and the πνεῦμα against the flesh, for these things are opposed to one another, in order that you may not do these things that you want. And if you are led by the πνεῦμα, you are not under the law. And the works of the flesh are visible, whichsoever are sexual apostasy and defilement, impurity, licentiousness, idolatry, poisoning, hatred, strife, jealousy, deep-seated anger, factious ambition, dissension, sects, envy, drunkenness, revelry, and similar such things, which I proclaim to you, just as I proclaimed that the ones doing such things will not inherit the kingdom of God. And the fruit of the πνεῦμα is love, joy, peace, patience, honesty, goodness, faithfulness, mildness, and self-control – against such things there is no law. And the ones of Christ crucified the flesh with its corrupt emotions and desires (τὴν σάρκα ἐσταύρωσαν σὺν τοῖς παθήμασιν καὶ ταῖς ἐπιθυμίαις). If we live in πνεῦμα, let us be in line with πνεῦμα. Let us not be conceited, challenging one another, envying one another. Brothers, if also a human is detected in some false step, you, the πνευματικοί, restore such a one in a πνεῦμα of gentleness, looking out that you also do not tempt yourself. Bear the burdens of one another and in this manner you will fulfill the law of Christ. For if someone, being nothing, considers himself to be something, he deceives himself. Let each one examine his own work, and then he will have the boast for himself alone and not for another person; for each one will bear his own burden. Let the one being taught the word share in all good things with the one instructing. (Gal 5:16-6:6)

Unlike the excerpts from 1 Thess and Phil examined in the previous sections, this passage does not contain explicit references to moral progress. Paul does not write of abounding in love, pursuing the end, or προκοπή in Gal 5:16-6:6. Yet Paul’s comments in this passage do presuppose a gradual process of virtue acquisition: not only does Paul write of a material, ontological transformation that Christ followers undergo, but he

235 also describes a process of communal exhortation that presumes hierarchical moral differentiation amongst Christ followers. (As I have repeatedly argued throughout this dissertation, the existence of levels of moral progress necessitates that moral progress is gradual rather than instantaneous.) In what follows, I will draw liberally upon Paul’s claims throughout the authentic corpus – excepting 1 Cor 2:6-3:4, of course – about fleshly vice, pneumatic virtue, assimilation to Christ, and communal exhortation in order to highlight the various and interconnected aspects of moral progress that Paul’s statements in Gal 5:16-6:6 presume.

In Gal 5:16-24 Paul sharply contrasts the desires and works of the flesh with the desires and fruits of the πνεῦμα, claiming that these two things are directly opposed to one another.54 Humans who accede to the desires of the flesh become mired in what

Paul refers to as “works of the flesh,” all of which could be identified as vices, cultic markers of vice, or actions that result from vicious dispositions. These include: sexual apostasy and defilement (πορνεία), impurity (ἀκαθαρσία), licentiousness (ἀσέλγεια), idolatry (εἰδωλολατρία), poisoning (φαρμακεία), hatred (ἔχθραι), strife (ἔρις), jealousy

(ζῆλος), deep-seated anger (θυμοί), factious ambition (ἐριθεῖαι), dissension

54 Scholars have long noted the parallels between Paul’s catalogue of vices and virtues in Gal 5:19-25 and the vice and virtue lists of ancient Mediterranean philosophers; see, for example, Hans Dieter Betz, Galatians: A Commentary on Paul’s Letter to the Churches in Galatia (Hermeneia; Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1979), 281-290.

236 (διχοστασίαι), sects (αἵρεσις), envy (φθόνοι), drunkenness (μέθαι), and revelry (κῶμοι).

Those people who perform these vicious works of the flesh will not inherit the kingdom of God (Gal 5:19-21).

Throughout his letters, Paul regularly associates vices, improper behaviors, corrupt emotions, and appetitive desires with the needs and the wants of the flesh. In

Rom 6-8, for example, Paul repeatedly and explicitly warns Roman Christ followers against obeying their vice-ridden, sinful flesh (Rom 6:6, 6:12, 7:5, 13:14). In 1 Cor, too, many of the acts that Paul condemns as wrongdoings – such as profligate sex and gluttonous consumption of the bread and drink associated with the Lord’s body – are associated with corrupt emotions and desires of the fleshly body (1 Cor 7:1-9, 7:36-38,

11:17-34). Paul also believes non-Jews to be particularly susceptible to the weaknesses of the flesh because of their own and their ancestors’ apostasy and idolatry (Rom 1:18-

32; 1 Thess 4:5). Paul’s attribution of Christ followers’ vice to their fleshly existence reflects a typically Platonic concern. As we have seen in previous chapters, Platonists assume a basic division of the human being into a divine, rational, virtue-loving, immaterial soul and a mortal, vice-ridden, fleshly body. Platonists consider the fleshly body to be a major obstacle to moral progress, for it burdens the virtue-loving, rational

237 soul-part with its corrupt emotions and desires.55 Virtuous humans, according to

Platonists, possess souls that have learned either to control or disregard entirely their bodies. Completely vice-ridden humans, on the other hand, possess souls that have, in effect, died, allowing the needs and desires of their bodies to run amok.56

Though Paul subscribes to the standard Platonic belief that a human’s fleshly body is a major obstacle to his possession of virtue, Paul does not ground this belief, as the Platonists do, in a contrast between the fleshly body and an immaterial, rational soul-part. Rather, Paul promotes a contrast between the vice-ridden flesh and the

πνεῦμα (Gal 5:16-17; Rom 8:3-6). Paul conceives of the πνεῦμα as a divine, astral material substance, rather than divine, immaterial entity.57 According to Paul, the

πνεῦμα resides in the bodies of Christ followers, transforming them into the same material substance of which the heavenly bodies (such as the stars, sun, and Christ

55 Stoics such as Seneca also consider the body to be an obstacle to the soul’s acquisition of virtue (see Ep. 120), but Stoics do not possess a wariness of the flesh that is at all comparable to the Platonist abhorrence of such. Cf. Engberg Pedersen, Cosmology and the Self, 100-101, who emphasizes Seneca’s awareness of the problems that the body poses to the soul. Engberg- Pedersen is right in claiming that wariness of the flesh needn’t be a view espoused only by Platonists, but he is wrong in suggesting that Stoics disparage the flesh to the same extent as Platonists.

56 On the death of the soul in Plato’s thought as well as that of Philo, see Wasserman, The Death of the Soul, 60-76.

57 Engberg-Pedersen, Cosmology and the Self, 26-38; and Martin, The Corinthian Body, 21-25, 115-120.

238 Jesus) consist (Rom 8:29; Phil 3:21; 1 Cor 15:35-54). Paul also understands the πνεῦμα to have a cognitive dimension: the πνεῦμα that resides in the bodies of Christ followers helps Christ followers to comprehend the knowledge necessary in order to progress in virtue (Rom 8:1-8).58 As Troels Engberg-Pedersen has effectively demonstrated, in these respects Paul’s conception of the πνεῦμα aligns best with Stoic theory. Like the Stoics,

Paul understands the πνεῦμα to be a divine, material substance that imparts cognitive, rational function to the human in which it resides.59

In Gal 5:22-23 Paul claims that humans who conduct their lives in accordance with this material πνεῦμα accrue a wide range of virtues or states that accompany the acquiring of virtue: love (ἀγάπη), joy (χαρὰ), peace (εἰρήνη), patience (μακροθυμία), honesty (χρηστότης), goodness (ἀγαθωσύνη), faithfulness (πίστις), mildness (πραΰτης), and self-control (ἐγκράτεια). Christ followers’ moral progress is directly dependent upon their possession of the material πνεῦμα, as well as their crucifixion of the vice- ridden flesh (Gal 5:24). Christ followers’ gradual transformation from a vice-ridden to a

58 See also Engberg-Pedersen, Cosmology and the Self, 62-65, 76-80.

59 Middle Platonists such as Philo refer to the πνεῦμα, but they conceive of this emanation of God in wholly immaterial terms; Engberg-Pedersen, Cosmology and the Self, 22-26. Cf. Volker Rabens, The Holy Spirit and Ethics in Paul: Transformation and Empowering for Religious-Ethical Life (WUNT 283; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2010), who argues that Paul operates with a conception of πνεῦμα as immaterial.

239 virtuous state, therefore, is accompanied by and depends upon a gradual, material, ontological transformation of their bodies.

In envisioning the exact mechanisms whereby Christ followers progress in virtue, Paul weaves into a coherent program the Platonic notion of fleshly weakness, the Stoic notion of a material πνεῦμα, and the Platonic notion of divine assimilation, all the while incorporating ethnic and religious elements that derive from his concern over the place of non-Jews in the salvific plan of the Jewish God. According to Paul, non-Jews cannot rid themselves of their vices and corrupt impulses by adhering to the

νόμος of the Jews. Knowledge of the Jews’ νόμος and its demands only makes non-Jews more aware of their deplorable moral condition and exacerbates their viciousness (Rom

7:5-6, 8:3-4; Gal 3:10-14).60 Rather, a more extreme measure must be taken in order to combat the vice-ridden fleshly and ethnic condition of non-Jews. This extreme measure is the implantation of God’s πνεῦμα into the bodies of Christ followers upon baptism

(Rom 6:1-11; 8:2-11). Christ followers receive the divine πνεῦμα at baptism as a down-

60 The vice-inducing weaknesses of the flesh seem to be exacerbated in non-Jews as a result of non-Jews’ ethnicity and apostasy (Rom 1:18-32; 1 Thess 4:5). These weaknesses are additionally exacerbated when non-Jews are introduced to knowledge of the law (Rom 7:7-13). For more on these issues, see Stowers, Rereading Romans, 189-193; and Wasserman, The Death of the Soul, 96-98, 103-114, 117-144. Wasserman discusses the exacerbation of non-Jews’ fleshly weaknesses through their ethnicity and their knowledge of the Jewish law; she also effectively contextualizes Paul’s comments about the relationship between sin and the law by showing that other ancient authors (including Plato and other Platonists) conceive of laws and rules as inflaming and inciting corrupt emotions and desires in vice-ridden people.

240 payment or “first fruits” (Rom 8:23; 2 Cor 1:21-22, 5:5). The bestowal of the divine

πνεῦμα constitutes a pledge by God: a pledge in response to the faithfulness of Christ and the faithfulness of each Christ follower, and a pledge in support of each Christ follower’s eventual resurrection as a fully pneumatic being (Rom 8:23; Gal 3:13-14; 1 Cor

15:36-49). Once a Christ follower is endowed with the πνεῦμα, the πνεῦμα begins to act upon the body of the Christ follower, residing within his body much as a deity resides within a temple (1 Cor 3:16, 6:19). The πνεῦμα helps put to death the vicious deeds of the Christ follower’s mortal body, destroying his “outer human” (ὁ ἔξω ἡμῶν

ἄνθρωπος). The πνεῦμα simultaneously helps to give life to the Christ follower’s mortal body, daily renewing his inner human (ὁ ἔσω ἡμῶν) (Rom 6:6-8, 8:12-13; 2 Cor 4:7-16).

Slowly and gradually, the πνεῦμα begins to transform the body of the Christ follower from one of fleshly humiliation to one of divine glory. This body of divine glory is the image (εἰκόνα) of the resurrected Christ (2 Cor 3:17-18). Just as the resurrected Christ received a pneumatic body upon resurrection, so too will the Christ follower receive a pneumatic body (1 Cor 15:20-23, 15:35-58). In effect, then, the Christ follower becomes like Christ as he begins to transform from a fleshly being to a pneumatic one (2 Cor

3:17-18; Phil 1:19-20, 3:21). Yet a Christ follower will not fully achieve this divine, pneumatic body until he is resurrected on the future day of reckoning (1 Cor 15:35-58).

241 Until the final reckoning, although the Christ follower remains in a fleshly condition,

God’s πνεῦμα enables him to act in accordance with the virtues of faithfulness, love, self-control, and the like inasmuch as it is possible for one who exists in a fleshly state.61

Paul’s assertion that Christ followers’ moral progress involves the transformation of Christ followers into images of Christ cannot and should not be understood merely as an exhortation to imitate Christ. Paul repeatedly and forcefully proclaims not just that Christ followers follow and imitate Christ, but that Christ followers actually become assimilated to the resurrected Christ. Using participatory language in which he describes Christ followers as being “in Christ” (ἐν Χριστῷ),

“belonging to Christ” (Χριστοῦ), and possessing Christ’s πνεῦμα, Paul emphasizes the importance of the shared ontological state of the Christ follower and Christ himself.62

This ontological state characterized by the possession of divine πνεῦμα, however, is not a condition that somehow lies dormant within non-Jews, only to be activated as non-

Jews begin to progress in virtue. Paul does not consider the divine, material πνεῦμα to be inherent to non-Jews’ being. The πνεῦμα is given to Christ followers upon baptism,

61 It is unclear, based on Paul’s statements, whether Christ followers are only given a small portion of πνεῦμα and receive a full portion at death, or whether they receive the πνεῦμα in toto to begin with and it only becomes fully activated when their flesh is eradicated and they are resurrected.

62 See, in particular, Rom 8:1-11. This participatory language also serves to emphasize the shared kinship between Christ and Christ followers; Johnson Hodge, If Sons, Then Heirs, 93-107.

242 not upon birth. Only after baptism and the reception of this divine πνεῦμα can Christ followers begin to participate in the ontological and moral transformation that will result in their assimilation to Christ.

Paul’s positing of an ontological change in connection with a Christ follower’s acquisition of virtue aligns most closely with Middle Platonic, rather than Stoic, thought regarding assimilation to God.63 Stoics such as Seneca believe that the human progressing toward virtue becomes equal to God, but this merely means that the progressing Stoic learns to act in accordance with an inherent and natural part of his constitution (namely, reason). Middle Platonists, however, believe that the human progressing in virtue undergoes an ontological change that allows him to assimilate to the immaterial, mediating, second God responsible for the creation of the world. (For

Philo, for example, this mediating divine figure is God’s λόγος.) Progressing humans become something other than what they are. Paul, like Philo and Plutarch, envisions non-Jewish Christ followers as undergoing an ontological change that assimilates them

63 For a more exhaustive analysis of the similarities between Paul’s notion of likeness to Christ and ancient philosophers’ ideas about divine assimilation, see van Kooten, Paul’s Anthropology in Context, 199-219, who argues that one cannot fully account for Paul’s ideas about assimilation to Christ without recourse to ancient Greek and Roman philosophy. Cf. M. David Litwa, We are Being Transformed: Deification in Paul’s Soteriology (Boston: Walter de Gruyter, 2012), 119-281, who notes the similarities between broader ancient Mediterranean ideas about deification and Paul’s thoughts on the subject with the ultimate goal of demonstrating that deification was not an idea that was foreign to Jews of Paul’s day.

243 to the pneumatic, resurrected Christ and allows them to combat the vices inherent in their fleshly condition. This process of divine assimilation aligns most closely with

Middle Platonism, not Stoicism. The only Stoic aspect of Paul’s notion of divine assimilation is Paul’s understanding of Christ followers’ final ontological state as consisting of material πνεῦμα instead of immaterial πνεῦμα.

If God’s πνεῦμα enables non-Jewish Christ followers to progress in virtue, then can we speak in any sense of human agency in moral development? Are Christ followers responsible for their own moral development? Or is moral progress ultimately attributable to God? This topic has been wrestled with by intellectual heavyweights, particularly those identifying with Protestant traditions, since the time of Augustine without resolution, and I do not pretend to offer a comprehensive solution to these queries. Instead, I suggest that it is somewhat anachronistic to approach this issue from a perspective that pits divine agency/responsibility against human agency/responsibility. In ancient philosophical thought the notion that gods and other divine beings play a role in the moral progress of humans is pervasive.

Emphasis on the role of the divine in humans’ moral progress, however, does not cause ancient Mediterranean philosophers to question humans’ own agency in and responsibility for their moral progress. Ancient Mediterranean philosophers consider

244 humans to be responsible for their actions if their actions are not compelled by anything external to their own rational faculties. Whether gods or other divine beings somehow affect the dispositions and beliefs of humans’ rational faculties does not matter – such dispositions and beliefs are internal to human beings and thus human beings are responsible for the actions that result from their beliefs and dispositions.64

In Paul’s thought, too, there is a similar elision between human responsibility and divine responsibility. In Rom 1:18-32, for example, Paul explicitly states that God hands Gentiles over to corrupt emotions and desires in recompense for their idolatry, and yet there is no sense in which God becomes responsible for non-Jews’ vice. Instead, non-Jews will be held responsible for whatever vices they possess. Moreover, as we have seen, Paul repeatedly issues exhortations to Christ followers to act in accordance with virtue and claims that Christ followers will be held accountable for their wrongdoings on the final day of reckoning. Yet Paul issues these claims alongside declarations about the need for Christ followers to attribute their good deeds to God.

Paul seems perfectly comfortable in attributing agency to God and Christ followers, all

64 Even Stoics, who claim that God preordains everything in the universe, conceive of humans as being responsible for their own moral progress. Even though the progressing Stoic is fated to do so by God from the beginning, he is fated to do so because God predisposed his mind to assent to certain impressions. And the mind, even if it is fated by God to assent to certain impressions, is internal to the human being and as such the human is responsible for his actions; Brennan, The Stoic Life, 235-306. On these issues see also Bobzien, “Moral Responsibility,” 206-229.

245 the while holding Christ followers completely responsible for their vicious actions.

Moreover, Paul also clearly asserts that a Christ follower’s reception of the divine

πνεῦμα at baptism does not automatically ensure that he will comport himself in accordance with the divine πνεῦμα. After all, Paul spends the majority of his letters trying to convince Christ followers to conduct themselves in accordance with the

πνεῦμα that they received upon baptism.

I suggest, then, that we discard the antithesis between human and divine agency in referring to Paul’s notion of moral progress and instead speak of the implantation of God’s πνεῦμα in non-Jews as a necessary but not sufficient condition for the proper and good functioning of non-Jews’ rational faculties.65 According to Paul, the deplorable ethnic condition of non-Jews makes non-Jews’ reception of the divine

πνεῦμα necessary for non-Jews’ progress in virtue. Yet the divine πνεῦμα is not a sufficient condition for moral progress, because Paul repeatedly addresses Christ followers who have become morally corrupt. Rather, it seems that the πνεῦμα makes possible the proper functioning of Christ followers’ minds. Both the implantation of the divine πνεῦμα and the functioning of the mind of the Christ follower are necessary but not sufficient conditions for a Christ follower’s moral progress. A Christ follower must

65 Cf. Troels Engberg-Pedersen, “The Logic of Action in Paul: How does He Differ from the Moral Philosophers on Spiritual and Moral Progression and Regression,” in Passions and Moral Progress in Greco-Roman Thought (ed. by J. Fitzgerald; New York: Routledge, 2008), 252-256.

246 possess both the πνεῦμα and a functioning mind in order to acquire virtue. Paul does suggest, however, in his speech-in-character description of a morally defunct soul in

Rom 7:7-25, that a non-Jew’s mind could be completely defunct from a moral standpoint and God’s πνεῦμα could allow it to function properly again. But just because

Paul considers it possible for God’s πνεῦμα to rescue a person in complete moral failure does not mean that it always does so in reality.

After exhorting the Galatian Christ followers to reject the desires of their flesh and instead conduct their lives in accordance with the divine πνεῦμα, Paul informs the

Galatians of the social mechanisms by which Christ followers may be encouraged in this transition from vice to virtue: Christ followers are to gently and peacefully examine, admonish, and encourage one another toward virtue, avoiding any kind of instruction that is borne out of conceit or envy (Gal 5:26-6:6). Such exhortations toward mutual encouragement and promotions of social cohesion are rife throughout Paul’s letters.

Paul repeatedly enjoins groups of Christ followers to avoid intra-communal competition and devote their energies toward mutual encouragement. Indeed, factious ambition and dissension are among the vices and improper behaviors listed amongst the “works of the flesh” in Gal 5:19-21. In this way Paul ties the process of virtue acquisition to the promotion of social cohesion. Exhortations to intra-communal

247 encouragement, admonishment, and correction are particularly prominent in Paul’s letter to the Romans and his first extant letter to the Corinthians as well. In writing to the Romans, Paul states his desire for mutual encouragement (συμπαρακληθῆναι) between himself and the Romans (1:12); he exhorts the Romans to pursue the building up (τῆς οἰκοδομῆς) of one another (14:19); and he maintains that he is confident in the

Romans’ ability to admonish (νουθετεῖν) one another (15:14). One of Paul’s primary teachings in his first extant letter to the Corinthians is the notion that all social interactions must be aimed at building up the assembly. In 1 Cor Paul adamantly asserts that a Christ follower must not correct or admonish other Christ followers if such acts are to the brothers’ detriment; instead, any form of instruction or reprimand must be informed by love. This “knowledge, but not without love” motif is particularly prominent in 1 Cor 8:1-13: Paul claims that he will not boast with respect to his knowledge of appropriate food consumption if that knowledge will cause an uninformed brother to stumble.66 In 1 Cor 13, too, Paul stresses that the use of knowledge in the service of boasting, and without consideration of fellow Christ followers, is deplorable: “If I have prophecy, and I know all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have all faithfulness as to move mountains, but I do not have love, I

66 Cf. Rom 14:1-9.

248 am nothing” (1 Cor 13:2).67 It is the virtue of love that acts as the linchpin of Paul’s ethical system. Knowledge may help a Christ follower abound in love (Phil 1:9), but when a Christ follower uses that knowledge to reprimand another Christ follower and does not do so out of love, he stunts his own moral progress and harms the brother whom he seeks to instruct.

As we have seen in Chapters Two and Three, Stoics, Middle Platonists, and

Epicureans consider processes of mutual encouragement and social cohesion vital aspects of humans’ moral progress. Seneca writes of both teachers and students benefitting from processes of instruction and correction. Plutarch counts among the signs of moral progress discourse for the purpose of teaching and imparting knowledge, rather than discourse motivated by desire for momentary repute. And

Philodemus comprehensively records a series of tactics to be employed in the intra- communal instruction and correction of Epicureans. Philo, on the other hand, does not emphasize the importance of communal exhortation for the acquisition of virtue to the same extent as these other philosophers. Thus Paul’s emphasis on mutual encouragement and instruction rather than pompous declamation is not unique when

67 Even faithfulness is made effective through love (Gal 5:6).

249 considered alongside the exhortations of contemporary philosophers, but this is perhaps one of the major ways in which Paul’s thought is different from that of Philo.68

Paul’s calls to mutual encouragement are based on the notion that Christ followers occupy different levels of moral progress. Throughout his letters, Paul repeatedly refers to processes of instruction whereby Christ followers who are more advanced in virtue examine, instruct, and correct less advanced Christ followers. In Gal

6:1 Paul claims that a group of people known as the πνευματικοί are obligated to help and restore others who commit wrongdoings. I will discuss in greater detail the identification of the πνευματικοί in the next chapter. It is worth noting for now, however, that in the term πνευματικοί appears to designate a group of Christ followers who are morally superior to other Christ followers. Some scholars object to this interpretation, claiming that all Christ followers are πνευματικοί and Paul is merely suggesting that the πνευματικοί correct the faults of others outside the community of

Christ followers. But Paul’s constant concern in his letters is not for the conduct of outsiders, but for the conduct of those within the communities that he envisions.

68 Though Stoics, Middle Platonists, and Epicureans alike view communal exhortation as an important aspect of moral progress, the most fully developed and systematic theories regarding the use of communal exhortation, instruction, and correction belong to the Epicureans. As Clarence Glad, Paul and Philodemus, has demonstrated, Paul’s statements about the use of adaptability in teaching, as well as his intense emphasis on social cohesion and intra- communal exhortation, aligns closely with Epicurean thought.

250 Moreover, if all the Galatian Christ followers are πνευματικοί who, by definition, are capable of correcting the faults of others, Paul would not need to spend the better part of his letter rebuking the Galatians for their wrongdoings. Moreover, after charging the

πνευματικοί with restoring others, in Gal 6:6 Paul writes of the relationship between pupil and instructor. Such a relationship presupposes that one person is more advanced in virtue and wisdom than another. These contextual clues all support the idea that Paul envisions within the Galatian assembly a group of morally superior

Christ followers who teach and correct those less progressed in virtue. These mature

Christ followers are not immune to moral turpitude themselves, however: Paul warns the πνευματικοί against regressing in virtue as they attend to the needs of less progressed Christ followers (Gal 6:1).

Galatians is not the only letter in which Paul indicates that he conceives of

Christ followers occupying different tiers of moral progress. In 1 Thess 5:12-13 he explicitly refers to people who are set above the Thessalonians, toiling amongst the

Thessalonians and admonishing them. That such Christ followers are superior to others with regard to their virtue rather than (or in addition to) their economic status is indicated by Paul’s emphasis on these Christ followers’ admonishment of others. In 1

Thess 2:11-12 and Gal 4:19, Paul places himself in a position of moral superiority over

251 other Christ followers, claiming that his relationship with other Christ followers is like that of a parent to children.69 And in Rom 14-15, Paul writes of issues concerning the weak in faithfulness (τὸν ἀσθενοῦντα τῇ πίστει) and the strong in faithfulness (οἱ

δυνατοὶ). The weak in faithfulness are, according to Paul, Roman Christ followers who abstain from meat and wine because they do not understand that all food is clean. The strong in faithfulness know that they may eat any kind of food and drink, but Paul warns against encouraging the weak to follow such eating practices if the weak do not understand the rationales behind doing so. Paul includes himself among the strong, and he encourages the strong in faithfulness to carry the weaknesses of the weak (Rom

14:1-3, 6, 19-23, 15:1; 1 Cor 8:7-11, 9:22).

Many scholars have identified the weak and strong of Rom 14-15 as Jewish

Christ followers and non-Jewish Christ followers, respectively. I find it to be fairly obvious, however, that Paul here distinguishes between two different levels of Christ followers on the basis of the amount of virtue they possess. To begin with, Paul could have explicitly called the weak “Jews” and the strong “non-Jews” in Rom 14-15, but he does not. He instead refers to the “weak in faithfulness” and the “strong.” Moreover, ancient Jews did not collectively abstain from all meat and wine and eat only vegetables. Instead of reading these categories as circumlocutions for “Jews” and “non-

69 Cf. 1 Thess 2:7.

252 Jews,” I think we should take Paul’s statements at face value. Paul does not use “the weak” to refer to Jews in general, but to refer to those Christ followers who are not well advanced in the virtue of faithfulness. They do not possess the great faithfulness and knowledge that is characteristic of more advanced Christ followers, and Paul is careful to point out that the weak must advance in knowledge and faithfulness before being forced to give up practices that they view as inimical to the possession of virtue.

Scholars such as Stanley Stowers and Clarence Glad have also pointed out the parallels between Paul’s use of the terms “weak” and “strong,” and ancient philosophers’

(particularly the Epicurean Philodemus’) contrast between weak students who are insecure in philosophy and strong students who are recalcitrant and irascible.70 Though

Paul does not use the modifier “strong” to refer to Christ followers who are disobedient, he does use “weak” to refer to Christ followers who are insecure in faithfulness and require gentle and mild instruction.71

In sum, Paul’s statements in Gal 5:16-6:6 presuppose adherence to a program of moral progress in which Paul understands Christ followers to be undergoing a gradual, material transformation as they incrementally acquire virtue. Paul envisions Christ

70 Glad, Paul and Philodemus, 78-85, 137-152; Stowers, Rereading, 320-323.

71 Stowers, Rereading, 317-323; and Glad, Paul and Philodemus, 213-235; cf. Carl N. Toney, Paul’s Inclusive Ethic: Resolving Community Conflicts and Promoting Mission in Romans 14-15 (WUNT 252; ed. J. Frey; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2008).

253 followers as progressing from a mortal, fleshly state to an immortal, pneumatic one, and he portrays this process as one that is enabled by the πνεῦμα that Christ followers receive upon baptism. The πνεῦμα helps Christ followers to put to death the vices associated with their ethnic and fleshly condition and conform themselves to the image of the resurrected Christ. Moreover, Paul’s comments in these passages demonstrate that Paul conceives of intra-communal exhortation as a vital practice in encouraging

Christ followers’ moral progress. Such intra-communal exhortation, however, does not presuppose that all Christ followers are equal with respect to the amounts of virtue that they possess. Rather, such intra-communal exhortation is built upon the notion that Christ followers differ with respect to the amount of virtue that they have acquired, and those more progressed in virtue are to aid the less advanced.

Paul’s Vision of Non-Jews Moral Progress: A Summary

Having closely examined Paul’s claims regarding moral progress throughout his letters, particularly those in 1 Thess 3:12-4:12, Phil 1:9-11, 1:25-26, 3:7-17, and Gal 5:16-

6:6, I now reconstruct a step-by-step summary of the process whereby Paul imagines a

Christ follower to gradually progress in virtue. This summary is, of course, an ideal scenario based on the program of moral progress that Paul crafts. It is by no means an accurate representation, from a sociological or psychological perspective, of the ways

254 in which Christ followers’ participation in these Pauline groups played out on the ground.

1. A non-Jew, whom I will call Fortunatus (1 Cor 16:17), does not have any knowledge

of the God of Israel. Neither is Fortunatus acquainted with the God of Israel, nor

does he possess propositional knowledge regarding the God of Israel.72 He conducts

himself in accordance with the corrupt emotions, desires, and sins that arise from

his fleshly and ethnic condition.

2. Fortunatus is introduced to the God of Israel. Perhaps he happens upon an assembly

of Christ followers prophesying in Corinth (1 Cor 9:24-26), perhaps he befriends

Paul’s companions Aquila and Prisca in Ephesus (1 Cor 16:19), or perhaps he hears

about God while imprisoned alongside Paul himself (Phil 1:12-14). Regardless of the

means by which Fortunatus attains acquaintance knowledge of the God of Israel,

this knowledge causes Fortunatus to begin to put his trust in the God of Israel (Rom

72 My introduction of the terminology of acquaintance and propositional knowledge here is merely meant to enable me to distinguish between Christ followers knowing God (in the same sense that I know my mother) and Christ followers knowing things about God (in the same sense that I know my mother lives in North Carolina).

255 10:17).73 Thus he displays a modicum of virtue (faithfulness) and knowledge of the

God of Israel prior to his reception of the πνεῦμα upon baptism.

3. In recognition of his burgeoning faithfulness, Fortunatus is baptized.74 In his

baptism Fortunatus participates in a series of practices whereby his body takes part

both in Christ’s death and Christ’s resurrection.75 He receives a portion of God’s

πνεῦμα, which is the same material substance of which Christ’s resurrected body

consists. Fortunatus receives this πνεῦμα as a down-payment for the fully

pneumatic body that he will receive when God comes to judge him worthy of it on

the final day of reckoning. Fortunatus’ burgeoning faithfulness also renders him

righteous. From a cultic perspective, this means that Fortunatus exists in a state of

holiness, purity, and blamelessness. Yet the bestowal of righteousness upon

73 From a sociological standpoint, we might say that Fortunatus becomes attracted to the benefits promised him in return for his faithfulness to the Jewish God.

74 In reality, at this point, the non-Jew may or may not understand the exact rationales behind the connection between his future resurrection from the dead and his imminent baptism. Paul, however, has a clear idea of why non-Jews must be baptized in order to attain resurrection.

75 Christ followers become sons of God, heirs of the promise that God made to Abraham, and siblings of Christ; Johnson Hodge, If Sons, Then Heirs.

256 Fortunatus does not mean that Fortunatus may cease to progress in virtue. Rather,

Paul sees the attainment of righteousness and progress in virtue as intertwined.76

4. Fortunatus, now endowed with the divine πνεῦμα, undergoes multiple

transformations:

• With the help of the divine πνεῦμα and other Christ followers, Fortunatus

gains propositional knowledge about the good message of Christ. Other,

wiser Christ followers provide Fortunatus additional propositional

knowledge about how to conduct himself in accordance with virtue.

Fortunatus learns what constitutes proper bodily and social conduct. He

learns proper interpretations of Jewish scriptures. He learns the rationales

behind and the ramifications of Christ’s death and resurrection. He comes to

understand why, as a non-Jew, he participated in baptism rather than

circumcision. Fortunatus does not acquire this propositional knowledge

entirely before or entirely after his baptism. The acquisition of such

76 Paul’s statements do not clearly indicate whether Christ followers can lose their righteous status if they fail to comport themselves with great virtue after their baptism. My sense is that, if pushed, Paul would say that instances of extreme viciousness (for example, a lack of repentance demonstrated by the Corinthian Christ follower who is sleeping with his step mother) would result in a reversal of the bestowal of righteousness and a casting out from the community. Yet Paul does not seem concerned with such issues – rather, he is intent upon emphasizing that Christ followers’ righteous status should not keep them from progressing still further in virtue.

257 propositional knowledge instead begins with Fortunatus’ introduction to the

Jewish God and continues through Fortunatus’ death.

• As Fortunatus acquires this additional propositional knowledge, he

gradually and incrementally acquires more virtue. Though he begins his

baptized life as one who is immature and weak in virtue, he gradually learns

more about the nature of virtue and the advantages he incurs from its

possession. His faithfulness grows, his love abounds, and his piety increases.

He gradually learns to exercise self-control and practice self-sufficiency. His

actions are done for the sake of the betterment of other Christ followers

rather for the sake of his own glory or boasting. He experiences good

emotions or sustained dispositions such as joy and learns to moderate his

corrupt emotions and desires. His wisdom and virtue increase

simultaneously.

• Fortunatus’ body also undergoes a material transformation that occurs in

conjunction with his progress in virtue. His fleshly body, which is the source

of much vice, gradually begins to be destroyed. As Fortunatus’ outer shell

begins to waste away, his inner human, or mind, is renewed by the divine

πνεῦμα. The πνεῦμα helps to counteract Fortunatus’ vicious tendencies,

258 many of which are attributable to his ethnic and fleshly condition.

Fortunatus does not yet acquire a fully pneumatic body, however; as long as

he is living, he continues to inhabit the flesh, at least to some extent.

5. If Fortunatus continues to increase in virtue by following Paul’s commands and

submitting himself to more progressed Christ followers for admonishment and

correction, Fortunatus may eventually become one of the πνευματικοί – a Christ

follower who is strong and mature in faithfulness and other virtues. Yet moral

regress is always a possibility, and Fortunatus must be careful to guard his virtue.

6. Because Fortunatus’ virtue and righteousness renders him holy, pure, and

blameless, God will grant him a fully pneumatic, resurrected body on the final day

of judgment.

It should be clear from our preceding discussions and this summary that the program of moral progress that Paul crafts is not as well theorized or explicated as are the systems of moral progress that Philo, Seneca, and Plutarch expound. Paul delineates very few specific steps of moral progress. At least part of this, of course, is due to the nature of our evidence – whereas the ancient philosophers write treatises explicitly aimed at theorizing about moral progress, Paul writes occasional letters to aid educated and uneducated non-Jews in their understanding of the God of Israel and

259 his actions. But does this mean that Paul operated with a notion of moral progress that was more developed and schematized than is attested by his letters? Possibly – there is simply no way of knowing. My sense is, however, that while Paul operated with a far more developed notion of moral progress than is generally assumed by New Testament scholars, this notion was not nearly as well developed as those programs promoted by the philosophers of his day.

Could “Fortunatus” in the above enumeration of moral development be

“Fortunata”? That is, did Paul envision women as progressing in virtue? Certainly, Paul envisions at least some female Christ followers as having achieved great virtue.

Foremost among these women, as she is among the apostles, is Junia, whom Paul lists as his kin, his co-prisoner, and his fellow apostle (Rom 16:7).77 Apostleship, as described in

1 Cor 12:27-31 and 15:7-11, is a status that is at least partially tied to the possession of a virtue; thus we may presume that Paul envisions Junia as possessing great virtue.78 In

Phil 4:2-3 Paul also mentions a certain Euodia and Syntyche, noting their athletic-like

77 I side with those scholars who understand ἐπίσημοι ἐν τοῖς ἀποστόλοις as indicating Junia’s status as a significant apostle, rather than those scholars who argue that Paul’s language indicates only that Junia is viewed as significant by the apostles (a category within which she is not included, according to supporters of this latter interpretation).

78 Cf. 2 Cor 12:12. On Paul’s notion of virtue as “a litmus test for fitness of leadership,” see Jennifer Wright Knust, “Paul and the Politics of Virtue and Vice,” in Paul and the Roman Imperial Order (ed. R. A. Horsley; New York: Trinity Press International, 2004), 155-164.

260 struggle (συνήθλησάν) alongside Paul in promoting the “good message.” Just as Paul encourages the perfect amongst the Philippians toward unified thinking, he also encourages Euodia and Syntyche. It appears, then, that these two women possess virtue as well. It is also possible that Paul considers Phoebe, a servant (διάκονος) of the assembly in Cenchreae, to be a woman well-progressed in virtue, though this largely depends on the meaning of προστάτις in Rom 16:2. If Phoebe is a προστάτις in the sense of a moral leader upon whom others have depended, then she is yet another woman whom Paul considers to be virtuous. But if Phoebe is προστάτις in the sense of a benefactor or financial patron of Paul, then the issue becomes more complicated. The status achieved by a Christ follower through his or her acquisition of virtue should not be presumed to be synonymous with the status achieved by a Christ follower based on his or her ability to contribute financially to early Christian assemblies (though certainly the act of contributing financially to the early assemblies could be construed as a virtuous act).

Whether Paul envisions women as beginning their trek toward virtue at a disadvantage to men is also a far more complicated issue. Paul certainly envisions women as subordinate to men in some sense (1 Cor 11:3; 14:34-36), and he argues that social custom dictates that men and women act in ways that are appropriate to their

261 sex and gender (11:13-16). It is remarkable, however, that Paul never suggests that women must do something more than men in order to progress in virtue. Indeed, he emphatically rejects the practice of circumcision for non-Jews (a sex-specific practice), and he builds into his program of moral development the practice of baptism, which is not sex- or gender-specific. Moreover, unlike many of the philosophers discussed in

Chapters Two and Three, Paul never associates corrupt emotion and desire with female

Christ followers. He never genders vice as feminine.79 He certainly associates vice with infancy, or with the ethnic condition of non-Jews, but he never refers to vice as womanish or feminine. Even in Rom 1:18-32, in which Paul describes his myth of gentile apostasy, Paul states that both women and men were given up to a debased minds and vice-ridden behavior.80 Thus, with regard to the issue of gender, the major difference between Paul and ancient philosophers is this: Paul’s notion of moral progress is much more intimately bound to his ethnic ideology than it is to his gender ideology. Issues of ethnicity, not gender, are at the forefront of Paul’s thought. Another factor that may help explain the differences between Paul’s ideas about women’s progress in virtue and those of the ancient philosophers is the fact that his letters are written to audiences

79 Several of the vices that Paul identifies, however, are male-specific; Kraemer, Unreliable Witnesses, 35-36.

80 Cf. Knust, “Paul and the Politics of Virtue and Vice,” 169-170.

262 than include both men and women. Certainly, ancient philosophers wrote treatises to women (their wives, as well as other virtuous women), but they did not generally write to groups of people that were made up of both women and men.

Paul’s Alignment with Middle Platonism

In this final section I synthesize my various claims throughout this chapter regarding the alignment of Paul’s thought with ancient Mediterranean philosophy. I demonstrate that, although Paul’s program of moral progress does have similarities to ancient philosophy in general, and Stoicism and Epicureanism in particular, Paul’s thoughts on moral development align most closely with Middle Platonism. In arguing that the primary philosophical referent for Paul’s thoughts on virtue acquisition is that of Middle Platonism and not Stoicism, I engage directly with the arguments of Troels

Engberg-Pedersen. Though Engberg-Pedersen is by no means the only New Testament scholar who recognizes Paul’s use of Stoic concepts, he is responsible for producing perhaps the most ardent, convincing, and sustained arguments in favor of Stoicism as that ancient philosophical system which most informs Paul’s thought.81 Engberg-

Pedersen’s arguments are so well crafted and so well known that in order to make a

81 Engberg-Pedersen, Paul and the Stoics; and ibid., Cosmology and Self.

263 solid case in favor of my own thesis, I must highlight those aspects of Engberg-

Pedersen’s argument that I find unconvincing.82

In the preceding sections we have seen that Paul’s program of moral progress aligns well with and is illuminated through comparison with ancient Mediterranean philosophy in general. Like many philosophers in the ancient Mediterranean, Paul believes that the acquisition of virtue is a necessary condition of humans’ achievement of the τέλος. Like ancient Greek and Roman philosophers, Paul understands the virtues to be dispositional, intellectual, and affective. Paul understands virtues to be something like good dispositions or habits of character, and he believes not only that Christ followers must use their reason to gain virtue, but also that they must take joy in possessing virtue. Paul also understands the virtues to be unified, at least in some sense: reception of the πνεῦμα is intended to result not in the possession of one virtue, but in the possession of a multitude of virtues. Unlike ancient Mediterranean philosophers, however, Paul does not operate with a thoroughly systematic theory about Christ followers’ moral progress – nor should we expect him to do so. Paul’s

82 In what follows, I will concentrate my critique primarily on Engberg-Pedersen’s Cosmology and Self, for this book contains a more refined and measured approach to the study of Paul’s use of Stoic concepts than does his Paul and the Stoics. For insightful, measured, and well-articulated reviews of Engberg-Pedersen’s Paul and the Stoics, see John T. Fitzgerald, Kathy L. Gaca, Victor Paul Furnish, Harold W. Attridge, Stanley K. Stowers, and Troels Engberg-Pedersen (respondent), review of T. Engberg-Pedersen, Paul and the Stoics, RBL 3 (2001): 10-41.

264 writings are not systematic treatises on moral progress, but occasional letters to specific groups of Christ followers scattered about the Mediterranean. Paul is no philosopher; rather, he is a freelance religious expert who uses philosophical ideas to create a program of moral progress for non-Jewish Christ followers.83 Thus Paul operates with a conception of virtue that lies somewhere between the folk conception and the philosophical conception, with regard to specificity and technicality.

Engberg-Pedersen and I are in agreement on these general issues. Engberg-

Pedersen argues that, while Paul is not a philosopher, much of his thought aligns well with and is illuminated by comparison with ancient philosophy.84 He also rightly notes that New Testament scholarship has been slow to recognize the points of contact between Paul’s thought and ancient philosophy, and that the issue of whether Paul’s thought best aligns with Middle Platonism or Stoicism is far more complicated than most New Testament scholars realize or assume.85 My disagreement with Engberg-

Pedersen instead stems from his claims that Stoicism, more so than any other

83 On the classification of Paul as a freelance religious expert, as well as a discussion of those characteristics that serve to distinguish him from other freelance religious experts of the Roman Empire (including Jews), see Heidi Wendt, “At the Temple Gates: The Religion of Freelance Experts in Early Imperial Rome,” Ph.D. Diss (2013), 250-327 in particular.

84 Engberg-Pedersen, Cosmology and Self, 3, 6.

85 Ibid., 6, 98-101.

265 philosophical system in antiquity, best illuminates Paul’s thoughts. Engberg-Pedersen argues that Paul’s “basic, philosophical reference point was materialistic and monistic

Stoicism…rather than immaterialistic and dualistic Platonism.”86 In support of this claim, Engberg-Pedersen highlights many aspects of Paul’s thought that he avers align more closely with Stoic thought than with Platonic thought. He is correct about Paul’s alignment with Stoicism in some places, but he often either ignores the Middle Platonic elements of Paul’s thought or misinterprets Paul’s statements so as to portray them as being most akin to Stoicism.87

As noted previously in this chapter, Engberg-Pedersen is wholly correct in claiming that Paul operates with a conception of the πνεῦμα that is characteristically

Stoic rather than Platonic. Paul conceives of a material, astral πνεῦμα that resides within humans and possesses a cognitive aspect; this is extremely similar to the Stoic conception of the πνεῦμα. Though Middle Platonists such as Philo afford the πνεῦμα a prominent place in their theories regarding moral progress, they consider this πνεῦμα to be immaterial. Paul clearly considers the πνεῦμα to be a material substance, and in this respect his thought aligns most closely with Stoicism.

86 Ibid., 4.

87 Ibid., 48-51.

266 Engberg-Pedersen’s other arguments regarding the alignment of Paul’s thought with Stoicism, however, are less convincing. I will address here a few of my major disagreements with Engberg-Pedersen to in order to demonstrate the ways in which

Engberg-Pedersen often wrongly disregards the possibility of Middle Platonic influence on Paul’s thought. To begin with, Engberg-Pedersen insists that Paul’s notion of the transformation of the fleshly body into a pneumatic body upon resurrection (1 Cor 15) is influenced by Stoicism. In particular, Engberg-Pedersen claims that the Stoic theory of conflagration, which posits that the cosmos is periodically burned and transformed into the divine πνεῦμα, influences Paul. Engberg-Pedersen argues that Paul believes that the Christ follower’s fleshly body will be transformed at the resurrection rather than left behind because Paul believes that the final judgment day will involve a Stoic- like conflagration. In support of this, Engberg-Pedersen notes Paul’s mention of fire in 1

Cor 3.88 Though Engberg-Pedersen’s mental gymnastics here are impressive, I do not think it at all likely that Paul subscribes to the idea that the final judgment day will involve conflagration. Nowhere in Paul’s letters does he talk about the world being consumed by fire on the day of judgment, and the fact that Engberg-Pedersen has to turn to 1 Cor 3 rather than 1 Cor 15 to find any evidence in support of his position is telling. I think it much more likely that Paul’s notion of a transformation of the fleshly

88 Ibid., 32-36.

267 body into a pneumatic body is partially informed by the Middle Platonic idea of divine assimilation. Like the Middle Platonists, Paul conceives of moral progress as involving an ontological transformation in which Christ followers become like gods. In doing so,

Christ followers do not merely realize their natural state, but rather receive an endowment of divine πνεῦμα that enables them to become something other than human.

As I have noted in the preceding discussions, however, Middle Platonists do not consider the fleshly body to be transformed in the way that Paul considers the fleshly body to be transformed. It is worth pointing out, therefore, that Paul’s notion of pneumatic transformation is in some ways quite different from the Stoics and the

Middle Platonists. Unlike the Stoics, Paul envisions some sort of continuous existence of the inner self from one’s human life, through death, to one’s resurrected life.89 Unlike the Middle Platonists, Paul envisions a transformation of the fleshly body into a pneumatic body. Whereas Middle Platonists view death as involving the continued existence of the immaterial, rational part of the soul, Paul views death as involving the continued existence of Christ followers in material form. One could say that Paul’s idea

89 As Plutarch, Stoic. rep. 1052C-D (LS46D) and other ancient witnesses report, the Stoics envision death as a separation of the soul from the body; Eusebius, Prep. evang. 15.20.6 (LS 53W) adds that upon death, the soul does not immediately perish but survives on its own only for a certain period of time.

268 of a continued, material, pneumatic existence in the resurrected life is remotely similar to the Stoic notion that everything in the universe is transformed into the πνεῦμα at the point of conflagration, but it is altogether unwarranted to then posit, as Engberg-

Pedersen does, that Paul actually believed that something like the Stoic conflagration was to happen on the final day of reckoning.

Secondly, Engberg-Pedersen notes in his discussion of Rom 7:7-25 that the change in a non-Jew’s cognition enacted by his reception of the πνεῦμα immediately results in a Christ follower moving from a morally corrupt state to a virtuous one. This immediate and instantaneous change that Paul purportedly describes is Stoic, not

Platonic, in nature. Stoics, after all, operate with an absolutist conception of virtue: a person may progress toward virtue gradually, but he is fundamentally vice-ridden until he achieves full virtue in an instant.90 Again, Engberg-Pedersen reads into Paul’s thought here Stoic ideas that simply are not present. Ideally, Paul sees a Christ follower’s reception of the πνεῦμα as enacting an instantaneous change whereby the

Christ follower comes to possess virtue. Yet in reality, Paul knows that the Christ follower remains partially subject to the whims of the fleshly body. The Christ follower thus does not instantaneously possess virtue upon reception of the πνεῦμα, but has to toil for virtue. He gradually and incrementally progresses in virtue, not toward virtue.

90 Engberg-Pedersen, Cosmology and Self, 77-79.

269 He abounds in love, joy, and faithfulness, not toward love, joy, and faithfulness. Thus here the Middle Platonic notion of progress in virtue seems to more accurately reflect the reality of Christ followers’ moral progress, whereas the Stoic notion of progress toward virtue reflects an ideal scenario that Paul knows does not truly exist.91

One last example will demonstrate further the problems of Engberg-Pedersen’s thesis of a thoroughly Stoicized Paul. In discussing the issue of divine agency versus human agency with regard to Paul’s notion of moral progress, Engberg-Pedersen brings

Paul into conversation with the Stoic Epictetus. Engberg-Pedersen notes that though both Epictetus and Paul believe that humans gain free agency by aligning their will with God’s will, Epictetus and Paul disagree in their conceptions of God and the way in which this God is cognitively grasped. For Epictetus, God is predictable and may be grasped through rational demonstration. This is a typically Stoic idea. Paul, on the other hand, according to Engberg-Pedersen, conceives of a God who is unpredictable and grasped through revelation. Engberg-Pedersen claims that this Pauline notion of

God derives from apocalypticism.92 Yet Engberg-Pedersen ignores the compatibility between Paul’s ideas about God and Middle Platonic thought. As I have adequately

91 For further critique of Engberg-Pedersen’s comparison of Paul’s notion of progress with that of the Stoics, see Stowers, review of T. Engberg-Pedersen, Paul and the Stoics, 25-26.

92 Engberg-Pedersen, Cosmology and Self, 134.

270 demonstrated above, the idea of a God who is grasped only through revelation aligns perfectly well with Middle Platonic ideas. There does not seem to me to be sufficient evidence in Paul’s letters to enable us to determine whether such ideas derive specifically from vaguely defined Jewish “apocalyptic” thought or Middle Platonic thought – or simply from a broader cultural view that envisions knowledge of God as grasped through revelation.

As I have now demonstrated, Paul’s ethical thought aligns more with Stoicism than with Middle Platonism only with regard to Paul’s conception of the material

πνεῦμα and his idea about the instantaneous change that the reception of this πνεῦμα should ideally enact. Paul’s other thoughts on moral progress, however, best align with

Middle Platonism. Both Paul and the Middle Platonists write of progress in virtue

(rather than progress toward virtue, as the Stoics aver). Both Paul and the Middle

Platonists also partially attribute vice and sin to the fleshly condition of humans. Paul and the Middle Platonists consider the moderation of corrupt emotions and desires as a necessary step in moral progress, and it appears that Paul might also follow the Middle

Platonists in considering eradication (for Paul, crucifixion) of the corrupt emotions and desires as something achieved by the most virtuous of humans. Perhaps most importantly, both Paul and Middle Platonists conceive of the end goal of moral

271 progress as assimilation to the divine. For Middle Platonists, this means that humans must undergo an ontological change that results in them becoming like the mediating, second God. For Paul, this means that humans must undergo an ontological change that entails a transformation of their bodies and minds into that which resembles the body and mind bestowed by God upon son, Jesus Christ.

The high degree of alignment between Paul’s thought and Middle Platonic ideas is directly related to Paul’s ability to pull together into one cohesive program of moral development ideas that hail from disparate philosophical and religious traditions.

Although Paul may not be drawing his ideas directly from the writings of Plato or Philo, the flexibility of the Platonic notions with which he operates allows him to easily supplement these notions with amenable Stoic and Epicurean ideas in addressing his particular ethnic and religious concerns. It also allows him to address a wider range of practical moral issues. This being said, it is highly likely that the alignment between

Paul’s thought and Middle Platonic ideas is also related to the similarities between

Paul’s conception of the God of Israel and Middle Platonists’ ideas about the Supreme

One: both High Gods are wholly other and transcendent, and this necessarily informs the way in which divine assimilation is conceived.

272

CHAPTER FIVE

Moral Differentiation Amongst Christ Followers in 1 Cor 2:6-3:4

At long last I am in a position to deliver a comprehensive, historically-situated rereading of 1 Cor 2:6-3:4 that takes seriously Paul’s program of moral progress and his concomitant notion that some Christ followers are more advanced in virtue than other

Christ followers. As indicated in the Introduction, the vast majority of scholars resist such a reading, arguing instead that the Corinthians instituted a moral hierarchy amongst themselves. Paul, according to such scholars, is an egalitarian who conceives of all Christ followers as equal to one another in virtue; thus he merely ridicules or reworks Corinthian terminology and pretensions to elitism in this passage.1 This

“standard interpretation” of 1 Cor 2:6-3:4 is problematic on two counts: not only does

1 There are, however, a few prominent scholars who either steer clear of a definitive statement in support of the standard interpretation, or reject the standard interpretation entirely. See, for example: Hans Conzelmann, 1 Corinthians: A Commentary on the First Epistle to the Corinthians (trans. J. W. Leitch; Hermeneia; Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1975), 56-69; Marion L. Soards, 1 Corinthians (NIBC; Peabody, Mass.: Hendrickson Publishers, 1999), 57-58, 66-67; Sigurd Grindheim, “Wisdom for the Perfect: Paul’s Challenge to the Corinthian Church (1 Cor 2:6-16),” JBL 121.4 (December 2002): 690; L. L. Welborn, Paul, the Fool of Christ: A Study of 1 Corinthians 1-4 in the Comic-Philosophic Tradition (New York: T & T Clark Publishers, 2005), 124 n.55, 189-190; and Joseph A. Fitzmyer, First Corinthians: A New Translation with Introduction and Commentary (AYB; New Haven: Yale University Press, 2008), 175, 183.

273 evidence derived from Paul’s letters disprove such claims, but also the standard interpretation portrays Paul as a man who is entirely unique (and thus unintelligible) within ancient Mediterranean culture. In the preceding chapters, I not only expose as problematic the assumptions, traditions of interpretation, and ideologies that inhibit the reconstruction of Paul’s program of moral development and differentiation, but I also argue, through an analysis of Paul’s letters and a comparison with ancient

Mediterranean philosophy, for a reconstruction of Paul’s program of moral development that firmly situates Paul’s ideas within ancient Mediterranean culture.

These larger obstacles to a historically-situated interpretation of 1 Cor 2:6-3:4 having been removed, I now turn to providing a historically-contextualized reinterpretation of

1 Cor 2:6-3:4.

I begin by more fully elaborating upon the parameters of the standard interpretation that were briefly described in the Introduction. I next dismantle the specific exegetical arguments that scholars marshal in support of the standard interpretation of 1 Cor 2:6-3:4: not only do I critique the use of mirror reading in support of the standard interpretation, but I also outline and falsify five specific exegetical arguments offered in support of the standard interpretation. I refer to these five exegetical arguments as the terminology argument, the context argument, the

274 irony argument, the pronoun argument, and the Philo argument. In the final part of this chapter, I provide a translation of 1 Cor 2:6-3:4 and deliver a more intelligible and historically contextualized reading of the passage by situating Paul’s claims within the larger contexts of 1 Cor and his program of moral development. I argue that Paul, not the Corinthians, envisions Christ followers as constituting an assembly of individuals that are hierarchically differentiated from one another with respect to their progress in virtue. These stratified levels of moral differentiation, identified by Paul with the terms

σάρκινος/σαρκικός/νήπιος (“fleshly one”/“infant”), ψυχικός (“psychic one”), and

πνευματικός/τέλειος (“pneumatic one”/“mature one”) represent successive stages of

Christ followers’ moral development.

The Standard Interpretation

Before limning the basics of the standard interpretation of 1 Cor 2:6-3:4, I must emphasize that the standard interpretation presented here is my own construct, a result of streamlining and identifying similarities between the numerous and varied scholarly readings of this passage. No two modern scholars agree on every single interpretive issue that arises from an analysis of 1 Cor 2:6-3:4, nor does any one scholar whom I label as a supporter of the standard interpretation adhere to every single claim that I cite as constituting the standard interpretation. Those whom I label as supporters

275 of the standard interpretation do, however, agree with one central idea: Paul is adapting, reworking, and redefining Corinthian claims to intellectual and pneumatic superiority in 1 Cor 2:6-3:4.2

The standard interpretation may be summarized in the following way. Paul uses a variety of terms in 1 Cor 2:6-3:4 whose meanings, while not completely at odds with

Paul’s thought, do not perfectly cohere with Paul’s message in 1 Cor and his other, authentic letters. Most prominent amongst these terms are σοφία (“wisdom”),

πνευματικός (“the pneumatic one”), ψυχικός (“the psychic one”), and τέλειος (“the mature one”). These terms add an elitist tinge to this passage that is at odds with Paul’s egalitarianism, his calls to unity throughout 1 Cor 1-3, and his denigration of wisdom in

1 Cor 1:17-2:5. Thus these hierarchical terms, according to supporters of the standard interpretation, must be catchphrases that originated with the Corinthians.3 Some

Corinthian Christ followers claimed for themselves an intellectual, moral, and religious status that was purportedly superior to other Christ followers. These elitist Corinthians

2 Not all scholars who deny as part and parcel of Paul’s thought the claims of 1 Cor 2:6-3:4 attribute these claims to the Corinthians; see Gregory E. Sterling, “‘Wisdom Among the Perfect:’ Creation Traditions in Alexandrian Judaism and Corinthian Christianity,” NovT 37.4 (1995), 367- 368. Though I do not have the time to engage these claims, many of my arguments against the standard interpretation could be applied to them, with slight modifications.

3 Pearson, Pneumatikos-Psychikos Terminology, 3-5; Thiselton, First Epistle, 225, 230; Horsley, 1 Corinthians, 57.

276 imagined themselves to have achieved, through their reception of God’s πνεῦμα and their cultivation of wisdom, a superior moral and intellectual status that exempted them from the judgment of others. They called themselves πνευματικοί. These

πνευματικοί also had a name for those Christ followers who were less virtuous and less wise than themselves: these inferior Corinthians were known as the ψυχικοί.4

An influential group of scholars who support the standard interpretation also argue that the Corinthians derived their πνευματικός-ψυχικός terminology from a

“Hellenistic Jewish,” or Philonic, exegesis of Gen 1:26-27 and Gen 2:7.5 As discussed in

Chapter Three, Philo uses Gen 1:26-27 and 2:7 as a scriptural basis for his two-level schema of moral development. Philo envisions the human who progresses in virtue as experiencing an ontological change for the better: the progressing human transitions from a corporeal, corruptible, vicious state to an incorporeal, immortal, virtuous state.

The former state is exemplified by the earthly ἄνθρωπος of Gen 2:7, and the latter state

4 Pearson, Pneumatikos-Psychikos Terminology, 39, 44; Thiselton, First Epistle, 225, 273-4.

5 Scholars who assert that the Corinthians were influenced by “Hellenistic-Jewish”/Philonic thinking in their interpretations of Gen 1:26-27 and 2:7 and their subsequent use of the terms πνευματικός and ψυχικός include: Pearson, Pneumatikos-Psychikos Terminology; Horsley, “Pneumatikos Vs. Psychikos”; ibid., “Wisdom of Word”; ibid., “Spiritual Elitism in Corinth”; Sellin, Der Streit um die Auferstehung der Toten; Davis, Wisdom and Spirit; Sterling, “Wisdom Among the Perfect”; and Thompson, Moral Formation.

277 is exemplified by the heavenly ἄνθρωπος of Gen 1:26-27.6 Those supporters of the standard interpretation who posit “Hellenistic Jewish” influence on the Corinthians, then, argue that the Corinthians’ use of the terms πνευματικός and ψυχικός resembles

Philo’s understanding of the heavenly human in Gen 1:26-27 and the earthly human in

Gen 2:7, respectively.7

All supporters of the standard interpretation then argue that Paul is troubled by the Corinthians’ pretensions to moral superiority. Indeed, Paul opposes the creation of a hierarchical assembly based on moral and intellectual differentiations amongst Christ followers. Thus, in an attempt to convince the Corinthians of the validity of his point of view, Paul constructs a counter-argument using the Corinthians’ own language.

Appropriating the very catchphrases that are so central to Corinthian claims to elite intellectual, moral, and religious status, Paul redefines or ridicules these terms in a manner that is more suitable to his own message.8 Whereas the Corinthians claim that some Christ followers are mature and pneumatic while others are infantile, fleshly, and psychic, Paul argues that all Christ followers, by virtue of their reception of the divine

6 See pp. 155-157 in Chapter Three of this dissertation.

7 Pearson, Pneumatikos-Psychikos Terminology, 18-20; Sterling, “Wisdom Among the Perfect,” 358-361.

8 Pearson, Pneumatikos-Psychikos Terminology, 26, 30-31; Thiselton, First Epistle, 224-5, 252, 269.

278 πνεῦμα, are mature and pneumatic.9 Whereas the Corinthians claim that they have already achieved a state of moral and intellectual perfection, Paul argues that this perfection will not be fully realized until Christ followers are resurrected from the dead in pneumatic bodies. Whereas the Corinthians emphasize their mature and pneumatic status, Paul emphasizes that the Corinthians’ tendencies toward strife and factiousness are characteristic of fleshly people who have not yet received the πνεῦμα of God.10

Rebuttal of the Standard Interpretation

Foremost amongst the methodological problems and faulty reasoning plaguing the standard interpretation is scholars’ over-indulgence in so-called “mirror reading.”11

Any attempt to reconstruct the historical situation in Corinth that Paul is addressing is

9 Pearson, Pneumatikos-Psychikos Terminology, 41; Thiselton, First Epistle, 225, 232, 273-4.

10 Pearson, Pneumatikos-Psychikos Terminology, 111 n.100, asserts that Paul did not derive the term σαρκικός (“fleshly person”) from the Corinthians: it is his own term.

11 The problems inherent in mirror reading Paul’s letters are finely explicated in John M. G. Barclay’s standard article on the issue: “Mirror-Reading a Polemical Letter: Galatians as a Test Case,” JSNT 31 (1987): 73-93. I am even more skeptical of the enterprise than Barclay, but his article nevertheless adequately addresses the problems and pitfalls of mirror reading while also attempting to outline a possible methodology for discerning the arguments of Paul’s opponents from Paul’s letters. See also Nijay K. Gupta’s addition of three more criteria to Barclay’s methodology in “Mirror-Reading Moral Issues in Paul’s Letters,” JSNT 34.4 (2012), 368-369. Cf. Richard A. Horsley’s significantly less nuanced approach in “Spiritual Elitism,” 204: “That there was some sort of conflict between Paul and at least some of the Corinthians is clearly indicated by his rejection of certain aspects of their statements and behavior. This is what enables us to reconstruct the Corinthians’ position.”

279 a complicated affair – even more complicated than the already difficult task of reconstructing Paul’s own thought. Whereas the reconstruction of Paul’s thought from his own letters is complicated by our temporal, geographical, linguistic, and cultural distance from Paul, our reconstructions of the Corinthians’ thought is further complicated by the fact that we have no letters written by the Corinthians themselves.

Certainly, there are parts of Paul’s letters to the Corinthians that are more easily mined in reconstructing the thoughts and practices of the Corinthian Christ followers than others (for example, Paul’s mention that Chloe’s people sent him a letter or Paul’s claim that some Corinthian brother is engaging in improper sexual behavior). Yet the task of reconstructing the thoughts, behaviors, and motivations of the Corinthians becomes much more complicated when we move beyond clear statements by Paul regarding the actions of the Corinthian assembly and attempt to reconstruct the Corinthians’ arguments by using a disciplined imagination to read between the lines. Such an enterprise is highly susceptible to the influence of an interpreter’s own prejudices, and all too often the Corinthians, as well as Paul’s opponents, end up representing those views that modern scholars consider to be opposed to their ideal “Christianity.” That is, any aspect of Paul’s letters that is deemed unbefitting of a founder of early Christianity is often attributed to Paul’s “opponents.”12 I therefore believe that the exercise of

12 Barclay, “Mirror-Reading,” 81, notes another side of this same coin when he emphasizes

280 mirror reading should take a permanent back seat to the reconstruction of Paul’s own thought, if it is to be allowed in the car at all.13

Scholars craft five main exegetical arguments in support of the standard interpretation; I shall now address each argument in turn. Let us first consider what I have labeled “the terminology argument.” Perhaps the most solid piece of data in favor of the position that Paul is ridiculing or rehabilitating Corinthian ideas in this passage is the relative absence of this passage’s key terms (σοφία,14 πνευματικός,15 ψυχικός,16

that “there is a particular danger in the temptation to dress up Paul’s opponents with the clothes of one’s own theological foes.”

13 I concur with Stanley K. Stowers, “Paul on the Use and Abuse of Reason,” in Greeks, Romans, and Christians: Essays in Honor of Abraham J. Malherbe (ed. D. L. Balch, E. Ferguson, and W. A. Meeks; Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1990), 256, who dismisses mirror reading as an enterprise “whereby interpreters begin asking the highly speculative question of who the opponents were or what the theologies were of the parties Paul was supposedly arguing against, and then proceed to construct a reading over against this image.” Stowers continues: “Such mirror reading not only begs all kinds of questions but also is completely unnecessary.” Stowers repeats and elaborates upon this criticism in “Kinds of Myth,” 106-7.

14 Paul uses the term σοφία 17 times in 1 Cor (1:17, 1:19, 1:20, 2 times in 1:21, 1:22, 1:24, 1:30, 2:1, 2:4, 2:5, 2 times in 2:6, 2:7, 2:13, 3:19, and 12:8). He only uses the word twice more in his other letters (2 Cor 1:12 and Rom 11:33, quoting from Jewish scripture in the latter verse).

15 The term πνευματικός, used by Paul to refer variously to pneumatic humans and things (such as words, food, drink, a rock, and a body), occurs 14 times in 1 Cor (2 times in 2:13, 2:15, 3:1, 9:1, 10:3, 2 times in 10:4, 12:1, 14:1, 14:37, 15:44, and 2 times in 15:46). Paul uses it only four times in his other letters: Gal 6:1 (in which πνευματικός refers to a human) and Rom 1:11, 7:14, 15:27 (in which πνευματικός refers to a gift, the law, and things shared between non-Jews and Jews).

281 and τέλειος17) from Paul’s other letters. Because Paul’s use of these terms is mostly limited to 1 Cor, scholars have surmised that these terms are not original to Paul’s thought: rather, Paul is borrowing the Corinthians’ own catchphrases for the purposes of argumentation. Scholars explain the infrequent use of these Corinthian catchphrases in Paul’s other letters (2 Cor, Rom, Phil, and Gal) by positing that these terms, while not foundational aspects of Paul’s thought, were not altogether uncongenial to Paul’s message. Once Paul wrested these catchphrases from their Corinthian context and fit them into his message, he occasionally found them to be useful in explicating his thoughts to other groups of Christ followers.18

Supporters of the standard interpretation are absolutely right to note that

Paul’s use of the aforementioned terms is largely restricted to 1 Cor. This fact, however, does not necessitate the conclusion that these terms (σοφία, πνευματικός, ψυχικός, and

16 Paul employs the term ψυχικός three times in 1 Cor (2:14, 15:44, 15:46); in no other authentic epistle does this term appear.

17 The term τέλειος occurs three times in 1 Cor (Paul uses the term to refer to either a group of humans or maturity itself in 1 Cor 2:6, 13:10, and 14:20). Paul only employs τέλειος again in Phil 3:15 (in which he uses the term to refer to Christ followers) and Rom 12:2 (in which he uses the term to describe God’s will).

18 Pearson, Pneumatikos-Psychikos Terminology, 3-5; Thiselton, First Epistle, 230; Horsley, “Spiritual Elitism,” 205; ibid., 1 Corinthians, 57. Cf. Barclay, “Mirror-Reading,” 81-82, who rightfully identifies scholars’ tendency to latch “onto particular words and phrases as direct echoes of the opponents’ vocabulary” as a significant pitfall associated with mirror reading. Barclay cites the association of the term πνευματικοί in Gal 6:1 with Paul’s Galatian opponents as an example of this kind of pitfall.

282 τέλειος) originated with the Corinthians. Even if Paul’s use of a specific term was limited exclusively to 1 Cor (as is the case with the term ψυχικός) or limited primarily to 1 Cor (as is the case with σοφία), it is not then a logical necessity to posit that these terms are Corinthian catchphrases. The relative isolation of these terms to 1 Cor could just as easily be explained by positing that Paul often used these terms in explicating his message, but only referred to them in one of the seven authentic letters preserved for us. The limited data set from which we are able to draw in reconstructing Paul’s thought should caution us against labeling as non-Pauline any terms whose usage is primarily limited to one particular letter. We only possess seven short, occasional letters written by Paul, and Paul addresses particular situations in each of these letters.

That some of his language might vary according to context is to be expected.19

Furthermore, in combatting the “terminology argument” it is worth pointing out that Paul competently and seamlessly uses the terms τέλειος and πνευματικός in his other letters. As noted in Chapter Four, Paul uses the term τέλειος to refer to a class

19 Horsley, “Spiritual Elitism,” 205, recognizes this fact, but maintains the following position: “Were there merely one or two terms that occurred only in I Corinthians i-iv it would occasion no surprise. Since Paul addresses specific situations with his letters certain language will occur only in connection with those specific issues. But when a whole set of religious language not used significantly by Paul elsewhere, occurs exclusively in I Corinthians, it is especially noteworthy.” I agree with Horsley’s mention that this is noteworthy, but I still think that it is not a logical necessity to then posit that this language must be Corinthian rather than Pauline.

283 of mature Christ followers in Phil 3:15. “Therefore as many as are mature (τέλειοι), let us think this, and if you think something differently, God also will reveal this to you.”

Here Paul exhorts a group of mature Christ followers toward agreement and unity in thought. Paul also uses the adjective πνευματικός both as a substantive and a modifier in several of his letters. In four instances he uses the term πνευματικός to refer to a particular category of humans. Three of those instances occur in 1 Cor (2:15, 3:1, and

14:37).20 But, as noted in Chapter Four, Paul also employs the term once in Gal in referring to a group of Christ followers that is charged with restoring to a virtuous state those who have fallen into vice. “Brothers, if also a human is detected in some false step, you, the πνευματικοί, restore such a one in a πνεῦμα of gentleness, looking out that you also do not tempt yourself” (Gal 6:1). Here Paul calls on a group of Christ followers known as the πνευματικοί to restore other humans (presumably other Christ followers) to a state characterized by more proper behavior. If the concept of the

πνευματικός as a morally and intellectually superior Christ follower originated with the

Corinthians, why does it appear to be not only an important part of Paul’s argument in

Gal 6:1, but also a concept that is already known to the Galatians?

20 Notably, in 1 Cor 14:37 Paul uses the term πνευματικός as an anthropological category alongside “prophet.”

284 Supporters of the standard interpretation explain Paul’s competent use of the concepts τέλειος and πνευματικός in letters other than 1 Cor by positing that, though the Corinthians first introduced Paul to this language, Paul then used this language to explicate his thoughts to other groups of Christ followers.21 Yet this counter-argument betrays a flawed methodology. By noting that the terms and concepts of τέλειος and

πνευματικός are part and parcel of Paul’s thought in Phil and Gal, respectively, scholars invalidate one of the primary reasons for positing that these concepts are not originally

Pauline: that these terms and concepts have no place in Paul’s thought. Additionally, and quite importantly, it is interesting that Paul’s use of the concepts πνευματικός and

τέλειος outside of 1 Cor occurs in passages which, as demonstrated in Chapter Four, are concerned with the moral progress of Christ followers (Gal 5:16-6:6 and Phil 3:7-17).

This suggests not only that these concepts are part and parcel of Paul’s own thought, but also that they are particularly relevant to his notion of moral development.

Supporters of the standard interpretation might interrupt at this point, citing in favor of their reading the “context argument.” According to the “context argument,” the hierarchical anthropology that Paul describes in 1 Cor 2:6-3:4 contradicts the surrounding context of the passage. Paul denounces factionalism in 1 Cor 1:10-13, 3:3-4, and 3:21-23 and decries wisdom in 1 Cor 1:17-2:5, so the faction-inducing moral and

21 See n.18 in this chapter.

285 intellectual hierarchy that Paul describes in 1 Cor 2:6-3:2 could not possibly be original to his thought.22 As is the “terminology argument,” the “context argument” is deeply flawed.

First, Paul’s denouncement of factionalism is not at odds with his support of the notion that some Christ followers are more advanced in wisdom than others.

Supporters of the standard interpretation argue that the existence of inequality amongst Christ followers with regard to the possession of virtue and wisdom would have engendered and exacerbated Corinthian factionalism, thus Paul could not possibly mean to support the notion that Christ followers differ with respect to the amount of virtue they possess. An analysis of 1 Cor demonstrates, however, that Paul does not believe affirmations of moral, intellectual, and pneumatic inequality amongst his adherents to be at odds with his denunciations of factionalism.23 To be sure, Paul repeatedly condemns divisions amongst Corinthian Christ followers that result from and/or in boasting, arrogance, and self-centered behavior (1 Cor 3:3-4, 21-22; 8:4-13;

10:24-33). Yet Paul encourages distinctions and inequalities amongst Christ followers

22 Supporters of the context argument include: Horsley, 1 Corinthians 75-76 (though Horsley’s treatment of the connection between Paul’s condemnation of factionalism and moral hierarchy is more nuanced than others’); and L. L. Welborn, Politics and Rhetoric in the Corinthian Epistles (Macon, Ga.: Mercer University Press, 1997), 32.

23 Paul contrasts factions (σχίσματα) with sameness in mind and thought (ἐν τῷ αὐτῷ νοῒ καὶ ἐν τῇ αὐτῇ γνώμῃ), not with equality in virtue (1 Cor 1:10, 12:25).

286 that enable mutual encouragement and the building up of the Corinthian assembly. In 1

Cor 12-14, for example, Paul argues that there are various divisions of gifts, services, and activities (διαιρέσεις χαρισμάτων, διακονιῶν, ἐνεργημάτων) given to individual

Christ followers through the πνεῦμα (1 Cor 12:4-11; cf. Rom 12:6-8). These gifts, services, and activities accord their possessors different statuses within the assembly: those who are apostles are ranked first, prophets second, and teachers third. Ranked after apostles, prophets, and teachers are Christ followers who possess activities of power, gifts of medicine, the ability to speak in tongues, and the like. Paul is adamant that Christ followers possess different kinds of gifts, and Christ followers are honored to various degrees according to these gifts (1 Cor 11:17-19, 12:4-31). Yet such differences, qua differences, pose no problem to the unity of the assembly. It is only when such differences result from and in quarrelling, jealousy, boasting, arrogance, and self-centered behavior that Paul decries them (1 Cor 14:1-19). As long as Christ followers use their various and distinct gifts for the purpose of mutual encouragement, the fact that some Christ followers are superior to others in terms of the gifts that they have received matters not (1 Cor 12:31-13:7). For Paul, then, the existence of pneumatic inequality amongst the Corinthians does not necessarily result in factionalism. Indeed,

287 hierarchical divisions amongst the Corinthians can even be employed to encourage communal unity.

Supporters of the standard interpretation also argue that Paul decries wisdom in 1 Cor 1:18-2:5 and thus could not possibly promote the notion of an intellectually superior group of Christ followers in 1 Cor 2:6-3:4.24 Yet supporters of this reading mistake Paul’s denunciation of a particular type of wisdom for a denunciation of every kind of wisdom. Paul delineates between different types of σοφία in 1 Cor 2:6-3:4: human wisdom and God’s wisdom. Paul valuates these two types of wisdom differently.

Human wisdom (1 Cor 2:5, 13), also variously termed “wisdom of the world” (1 Cor 1:20,

3:19) and “wisdom of this age” (1 Cor 2:6), is foolish in the eyes of God (1 Cor 3:19).25

Paul does not promote this inferior type of wisdom. Rather, Paul proclaims the wisdom of God (1 Cor 1:21, 2:7).26 Paul equates this powerful, divine wisdom with a proper understanding of the meaning and significance of Christ’s crucifixion (1 Cor 1:23-24,

24 Sterling, “Wisdom Among the Perfect,” 367, cites this as the fundamental interpretive problem facing exegetes of 1 Cor 2:6-3:4.

25 See also Paul’s reference to “fleshly wisdom” (ἐν σοφίᾳ σαρκικῇ) in 2 Cor 1:12.

26 Paul also refers to the wisdom of God in Rom 11:33.

288 1:30).27 God’s wisdom is puzzling to Jews and foolish to non-Jews, but it is spoken in a mystery amongst the mature (1 Cor 1:23, 2:6-7). Thus Paul does not decry wisdom in toto, but directs his criticism toward a specific type of wisdom: human wisdom. This is a perfectly straightforward and intelligible reading of Paul’s statements; there is no reason to posit a contradiction between Paul’s denunciation of human wisdom and his privileging of divine wisdom.

In order to resolve the purported contradiction between Paul’s denouncement of factionalism and wisdom in the surrounding context of 1 Cor 2:6-3:4, and Paul’s support of a moral and intellectual hierarchy in 1 Cor 2:6-3:4, many supporters of the standard interpretation turn to the “irony argument.” They claim that Paul intends his statements in 1 Cor 2:6-3:4 to be ironic, and Paul uses this irony to mock the

Corinthians for their unwarranted elitism.28 It is easy to understand the attraction of labeling as ironic some of Paul’s unattractive statements: in one fell swoop, an interpreter can excise from Paul’s thought any claim or assertion that he or she deems to be incongruent with Paul’s message. This interpretive move is not only effective, but

27 Paul employs the two-word sound-bite “Christ crucified” to evoke a whole range of salvific activities that are enacted by the Jewish God through the crucifixion of Christ on behalf of non-Jews.

28 Pearson, Pneumatikos-Psychikos Terminology, 32, 41; Horsley, “Spiritual Elitism,” 204; ibid., 1 Corinthians, 43, 57, 61-62 (here Horsley claims that Paul uses sarcasm, a subcategory of irony); Collins, First Corinthians, 127, 136, 143; and Fitzmyer, First Corinthians, 174.

289 paralleled in Renaissance reconstructions of Socrates’ thought from Plato’s writings. As

Dilwyn Knox notes, Renaissance authors labeled as “ironic” those statements of

Socrates that they viewed as unbefitting of a great philosopher. Thus Socrates’ condoning of homosexuality, his condemnation of rhetoric as mere flattery, and his support of communal living were all “ironic”: Socrates did not mean to actually promote such ideas.29 The potential for error with this haphazard and un-historically informed cry of “irony,” then, is too great. All too often, interpreters end up labeling as ironic those passages that contradict their own views. In the case of Paul, interpreters end up labeling as ironic those passages that contradict their own views about the nature of “Christianity.”

Moreover, it is rare that proponents of the standard interpretation operate with a well-defined notion of irony. Not only do such scholars often incorrectly assume that irony in ancient texts is easily identified by modern readers, but they also rarely consider whether or not an ancient person (Paul included!) would have identified Paul’s statements as ironic. In fact, based on ancient standards regarding the rhetorical deployment of irony, there are no clear indications that Paul is writing in an ironic manner in 1 Cor 2:6-3:4. Ancient theorists of rhetoric and letter writing identify irony

29 Dilwyn Knox, Ironia: Medieval and Renaissance Ideas on Irony (CSCT 16; Leiden: Brill, 1989), 106.

290 (εἰρωνεία, dissimulatio, simulatio, illusio, ironia) as a rhetorical art worthy of note, though this mode of discourse is given rather short schrift in ancient handbooks on writing and speaking practices.30 Ancient theorists define irony as a rhetorical practice wherein an author says something that is different from (and sometimes in opposition to) that which he thinks.31 Often, irony is used in creating situations of mock praise.32 An author employs irony, for example, when he calls a naughty man nice.33 An author also uses irony when he mockingly praises a person for his virtue in an attempt to draw attention to said person’s vice. For example: “I am greatly astonished at your sense of

30 In limning the basics of rhetorical theory on irony, I draw upon ancient theories regarding irony and its use in rhetoric generally as well as ancient handbooks regarding the use of irony in a specifically epistolary context. I specifically draw from the works of Cicero, Quintilian, Pseudo-Demetrius, and Pseudo-Libanius.

31 Cicero writes that irony is “saying something different from what you think,” though he does not view irony as “saying the exact opposite…but being mock-serious in your whole manner of speaking, while thinking something different from what you are saying” (Orat. 2.269- 273). Quintilian is a bit more difficult to pin down on the issue, but maintains that one type of ironic statement implies something other than it says (Inst. Orat. 9.2.44ff). Pseudo-Demetrius 20 claims that an ironic letter is one in which an author speaks of things “in terms that are their opposites (ὅταν ἐναντίοις πράγμασιν ἐναντία λέγωμεν)” (Malherbe).

32 Pseudo-Libanius 9: “The ironic style is that in which we feign praise of someone at the beginning, but at the end display our real aim, inasmuch as we had made our earlier statements in pretense” (Malherbe).

33 Pseudo-Demetrius 20.

291 equity, that you have so quickly rushed from a well-ordered life to its opposite – for I hesitate to say to wickedness.”34

In order for irony to be effective, an audience (or at least some members of an audience) must recognize that a speaker or writer is saying or writing something different from that which he thinks. Consider this example of irony put forth by Cicero:

And meanings were ironically inverted when Crassus was representing Aculeo before Marcus Perperna as arbitrator, and Lucius Aelius Lamia, a cripple as you know, was for Gratidianus against Aculeo, and kept on interrupting vexatiously, until Crassus said, “Let us hear the little beauty.” When the laughter at this had subsided, Lamia retorted, “I could not mould my own bodily shape; my talents I could.” Thereupon Crassus remarked, “Let us hear the eloquent speaker.” At this the laughter was far more uproarious. (Orat. 2.262 [Sutton])

Members of Crassus’ audience (as well as members of Cicero’s encoded audience) identify Crassus’ statements as ironic because the audience is aware that Crassus considers Lamia a physical and intellectual failure. This common point of departure – knowledge of Lamia’s deformities – is necessary for the deployment of irony to be successful. This is a particularly important point when it comes to considering the use of irony (or any rhetorical device) in ancient letters. The effectiveness of epistolary irony depends on the audience being aware of the disjuncture between an author’s claim and his actual thoughts on a subject. As is clear from the examples given by

34 Pseudo-Libanius 56.

292 ancient epistolary theorists, authors often ensure the recognition of irony by weaving together with their ironic statements claims that accurately reflect their thoughts.

Consider, for example, pseudo-Demetrius’ exemplum of an ironic letter:

For example: You have (now) shown the goodwill toward us that you have had for a long time. For your noble and good policy (toward us) has not gone unnoticed, since, as far as you are concerned, you have ruined us. But if you should get what you deserve, do not be distressed, for we are confident, the gods willing, that we shall have such an opportunity (to repay you) as you will never have against us. (20 [Malherbe])

The author of this letter praises the recipient for his goodwill toward the author, but the reader quickly becomes aware that this praise is delivered in a mocking manner, for the author follows up his praise of goodwill with the statement “you have ruined us.”

Irony can only be effective if an audience is aware that an author’s ironic statement is

“other than” what the author thinks.

Did Paul intend his statements regarding successive levels of moral progress in 1

Cor 2:6-3:4 to be ironic? Would Paul have risked some audience members’ misunderstanding of this passage in order to incorporate into his letter some sort of mock-praise that others might have understood? Certainly, there are points in 1 Cor where Paul does take the risk of introducing irony in order to make a point. In these contexts, however, Paul follows up his ironic statements with claims that betray his true opinions on the matters at hand. In 1 Cor 4:8-10, for example, Paul uses irony to

293 mockingly praise the Corinthians for their wisdom and strength. He ironically claims that he and his fellow workers are foolish, weak, and dishonored while asserting that the Corinthians are prudent, strong, and held in high esteem. Yet Paul’s statements prior to 1 Cor 4:8-10 alert his encoded audience to his use of irony here. Paul has been adamant that the Corinthians’ conduct has been foolish, vicious, and altogether improper; thus his claims regarding the Corinthians’ prudent and honorable actions in

1 Cor 4:8-10 are clearly ironic.35

Paul, then, is certainly capable of deploying irony in his letters, and he obviously thinks his audience capable of recognizing irony when it is deployed in proper fashion. Let us assume for a moment, then, that Paul did intend his statements in 1 Cor 2:6-3:4 to be ironic. This would indicate that Paul presumed that his audience would recognize the irony of his claims. What conditions would have been necessary in order to ensure that the Corinthians themselves recognized that Paul did not actually support the existence of a moral hierarchy of Christ followers? Paul could have ensured that the Corinthians understood the ironic force of his statements in 1 Cor 2:6-3:4 by providing contradictory statements elsewhere in 1 Cor that revealed his true opinion on the matter. Yet Paul does not do this. To be sure, many scholars claim that Paul’s exhortations to unity in 1 Cor 1-4 are contradictory to his support of moral hierarchy in

35 See also 1 Cor 11:19 as another potential use of irony by Paul.

294 1 Cor 2:6-3:4. But we have already seen that this purported opposition between hierarchy and unity is a false one. Moreover, Paul’s statements from elsewhere in 1 Cor and his other letters indicate that he actually does conceive of virtue as being attained through a gradual process which necessarily admits successive levels of moral development.36 Thus Paul does not make claims that render 1 Cor 2:6-3:4 ironic; rather, he makes assertions that support the notion that he is being straightforward in his statements. I also find it highly unlikely that Paul would run the risk of the Corinthians misunderstanding him in 1 Cor 2:6-3:4 when the issues presented in this passage have angered Paul to the point that he proclaims relief over the fact that he did not baptize any of the Corinthians. Paul is dealing with an assembly of people who constantly and repeatedly stray off the course that Paul has set for them. Why would Paul risk using irony in this particular passage if he does not give any contextual clues to indicate that he is being ironic?

Supporters of the standard interpretation also often cleanse Paul’s message in 1

Cor 2:6-3:4 of any hierarchical impulse by turning to the “pronoun argument,” claiming that Paul uses the first person plural pronoun “we” in this passage to refer to Paul and

36 See the passages discussed in Chapter Four (1 Thess 3:12-4:12, Phil 1:9-11, 25-26, 3:7-17; and Gal 5:16-6:6); see also 1 Cor 12-14 (regarding the connection between charismatic gifts and hierarchy).

295 all Christ followers.37 According to these scholars, when Paul states that “we speak wisdom among the mature” (1 Cor 2:6), “we did not receive the πνεῦμα of the world,” and “we have the mind of Christ,” he uses “we” to designate all Christ followers, for all

Christ followers possess the mind of Christ and God’s πνεῦμα. Whereas the Corinthians themselves claimed that only some Christ followers were mature and worthy of the designation πνευματικός, Paul claims that all Christ followers are worthy of this status and title. Moreover, the Corinthians claim that the ψυχικός is a Christ follower who is less advanced than the πνευματικός; Paul claims that the ψυχικός is a non-Christ follower.

A more thorough consideration of Paul’s claims in 1 Cor 2:6-3:4 and his use of

“we” in other passages, however, shows that Paul actually intends “we” to refer to a smaller subset of Christ followers that are more advanced in virtue and wisdom than are others. In 1 Cor 3:1-2 Paul begins to distinguish between himself and his encoded audience by using the personal pronouns “I” and “you”: “And I, brothers, was not able to speak to you as pneumatic humans (Κἀγώ, ἀδελφοί, οὐκ ἠδυνήθην λαλῆσαι ὑμιν ὡς

πνευματικοῖς), but as fleshly humans, as infants in Christ. I gave you milk to drink, not food.” In these verses Paul’s brothers (that is, Christ followers) are clearly aligned with

37 Thiselton, First Epistle, 230, 233; Collins, First Corinthians, 122-123; Fitzmyer, First Corinthians, 169, 185; cf. Jerome Murphy-O’Connor, Keys to First Corinthians: Revisiting the Major Issues (New York: Oxford University Press, 2009), 5-10.

296 the personal pronoun “you.” Because Paul distinguishes in 1 Cor 3:1-2 between “I” and

“you,” rather than “we” and “you,” however, many scholars fail to see that Paul is contrasting “we” with “you” in 1 Cor 2:6-3:4. Supporters of the standard interpretation posit that Paul refers to all Christ followers when using the pronoun “we” and distinguishes between himself and all other Christ followers only when using the pronoun “I.” But if all Christ followers are included amongst the “we” who speak God’s wisdom among the perfect and interpret pneumatic things with the mind of Christ, how can they also be amongst the “you” who are infants in Christ, living in a fleshly and human manner, unable to digest the wisdom of God?38

Paul’s statements in 1 Cor 2:6-3:4 become most coherent and intelligible when the reader understands “we” to refer to Paul and other mature Christ followers – that is, Christ followers who are more knowledgeable and virtuous than other fleshly, infantile Christ followers. There is precedent for this usage of “we” elsewhere in 1 Cor.

In 1 Cor 4:8-10, for example, Paul contrasts “we” (whom he identifies as “the least of the apostles”) with “you” (his encoded audience):

38 Many supporters of the standard interpretation would answer this question by stating that Paul’s use of both “we” and “you” to refer to the Corinthian Christ followers is a matter of his toggling between exhortation and excoriation. He uses “we” when he wants to encourage the Corinthians toward some course of action, and “you” when he wants to excoriate them for their bad behavior. For reasons that will be explicated below, I find this a tenable but ultimately improbable solution.

297 Would that you were kings, in order that we may co-rule with you. For I think that God displayed us, least of the apostles, as condemned to death, namely that we became a spectacle amongst the cosmos, angels, and humans. For we are foolish on account of Christ, and you are prudent in Christ. We are weak, and you are strong. You are held in high esteem, we are dishonored.

Regardless of whether one believes Paul to be writing in an ironic manner here, or to be employing the rhetorical technique of paradox, or to be stating bald facts, it is undeniable that Paul uses the first person plural pronoun to refer to himself and other fellow workers in Christ, not himself and all Christ followers. Paul makes this same distinction between “we” and “you” in 1 Cor 9:11-12. In discussing the rights that Paul and Barnabas have as apostles, Paul distinguishes between “we” (Paul and Barnabas, as apostles) and “you” (Paul’s encoded audience): “If we sowed the pneumatic things among you, is it too much if we reap your fleshly things? If others share your power, do we not more? But we did not proclaim this power, but we endured all things, in order that we may not give some hindrance to the good message of Christ” (1 Cor 9:11-12).

Some interpreters might object to the applicability of these observations to 1

Cor 2:6-3:4 by stating that Paul does sometimes use “we” to refer to all Christ followers; this at least seems to be the case in 1 Cor 10:6-13.39 Others might point out that Paul

39 But Paul also often uses the phrase “we all” to emphasize his use of the first person plural pronoun to indicate the totality of all Christ followers (e.g. 1 Cor 12:13, 15:51-52). This, in my

298 qualifies his use of the pronoun “we” in 1 Cor 4:8-10 and 9:11-12, whereas he does not qualify his use of “we” in 1 Cor 2:6-3:4. In 1 Cor 4:8-10 Paul clearly identifies “we” as those who are the least of the apostles, and in 1 Cor 9 Paul mentions himself, Barnabas, and their role as apostles in a way that makes it clear that Paul and Barnabas are the referent of the pronoun “we.” Against this objection, however, I point out that Paul does qualify his use of “we” in 1 Cor 2:6-3:4. Paul reminds the Corinthians of his proclamation of God’s wisdom to them and then claims that “we speak wisdom among the mature” (2:6). “We” are the mature. Some scholars might continue to object, retorting that all Christ followers are mature, and thus “we” refers to all Christ followers. But then why Paul would castigate the perfect Corinthian brothers for behaving in an infantile manner? The simple fact is that understanding the “we” in 1

Cor 2:6-3:4 as referring to a small group of mature, wise, and virtuous Christ followers

(among which Paul includes himself) makes for a far more intelligible reading than does understanding “we” as referring to all Christ followers.

Finally, we must address the inadequacies of what I term the “Philo argument.”

Several scholars who promote the standard interpretation assert that the Corinthians derived the hierarchical anthropological contrast of the πνευματικός and ψυχικός from

opinion, suggests that Paul often deploys the first person plural pronoun in reference to only a select group of Christ followers.

299 a “Hellenistic Jewish” (that is, a Philonic) exegesis of Gen 1:26-27 and 2:7. Evidence of the influence of this “Hellenistic Jewish” exegesis on the Corinthians is found in Paul’s refashioning of the “Hellenistic Jewish” hierarchical contrast of πνευματικός-ψυχικός in 1 Cor 2:6-3:4 and 1 Cor 15:42-49. According to supporters of the “Philo argument,”

Paul provides in 1 Cor 15:42-49 an anti-Philonic interpretation of the heavenly and earthly humans of Gen that is a reaction to the Corinthians’ own “Hellenistic Jewish” exegesis of the creation accounts.40 It is to an examination of 1 Cor 15:44-49 and the interpretation of this passage by supporters of the “Philo argument,” then, that we now turn.

In 1 Cor 15:42-49 Paul describes to the Corinthians the nature of the resurrected body, basing his description on an exegesis of Gen 2:7:

In this manner also is the resurrection of the dead. [The body] is sown in mortality, it is raised in immortality. It is sown in dishonor, it is raised in glory. It is sown in weakness, it is raised in power. It is sown a psychic body (σῶμα ψυχικόν), it is raised a pneumatic body (σῶμα πνευματικόν). If there is a psychic body, there is also a pneumatic one. Thus also it has been written: “The first human, Adam, becomes a living soul (ἐγένετο εἰς ψυχὴν ζῶσαν)” [Gen 2:7]; the last Adam becomes a life-giving πνεῦμα. But that which is pneumatic is not first, but that which is psychic (is first), then that which is pneumatic. The first human is from the earth, one of the dust; the second human is from heaven. As is the earthly one,

40 Sterling, “Wisdom Among the Perfect,” provides a thorough and clear summary of the centrality of Gen 1:26-27 and Gen 2:7 in three key passages from 1 Cor: 15:44-49, 2:6-3:4, and 11:7-12. I do not agree with Sterling, however, regarding his claim that the Corinthians introduced Paul to this exegesis.

300 so also are earthly humans. And as is the heavenly one, so also are heavenly humans. And just as we have borne the image of the earthly one, we will also bear the image of the heavenly one.

Here Paul argues that the first human, Adam, became an earthly being whose body, sustained by a soul, was mortal, dishonorable, and weak. Christ followers currently resemble this earthly human, possessing mortal bodies sustained by the soul. The last human, whom Paul identifies with Christ, was resurrected as a heavenly being. Christ’s body, consisting of life-giving πνεῦμα, is immortal, glorified, and powerful. Upon resurrection, Christ followers will fully resemble the heavenly Christ, possessing immortal bodies sustained by the divine πνεῦμα.

Supporters of the “Philo argument” note some similarities between Paul’s exegesis of Gen 2:7 and that of Philo. Like Philo, Paul argues that the earthly human of

Gen 2:7 is ontologically inferior to a particular heavenly human. And just as Philo believes that vicious humans resemble the earthly ἄνθρωπος and virtuous humans resemble the heavenly ἄνθρωπος, so too Paul argues that Christ followers undergo an ontological transformation in which they exchange their bearing of Adam’s earthly image for their bearing of Christ’s heavenly image. Yet, as supporters of the “Philo argument” note, Paul and Philo disagree with regard to the chronological ordering of the earthly and heavenly ἄνθρωποι. Philo believes that the heavenly human of Gen

301 1:26-27 is not only ontologically superior to the earthly human of Gen 2:7, but also chronologically prior: the earthly human, after all, is a copy of the heavenly one.41 Paul, however, does not view the heavenly, resurrected Christ as a pre-existent archetype to

Adam, the earthly human. “That which is pneumatic is not first, but that which is psychic (is first), then that which is pneumatic” (1 Cor 15:46). Adam existed before

Christ existed, and this chronological sequence prefigures the chronological sequence of the images that Christ followers will bear: Christ followers will bear the image of

Adam before they bear the image of Christ. According to supporters of the “Philo argument,” Paul is combatting a Corinthian interpretation of Gen 1:26-27 and 2:7 which emphasizes the chronological priority of the heavenly human over the earthly one.

Paul is seeking to keep the Corinthians from using this interpretation to claim that they already bear the image of the heavenly human, and so he emphasizes the chronological priority of the earthly human, Adam, over the heavenly human, Christ.

41 Though as George van Kooten, “The Anthropological Trichotomy of Spirit, Soul and Body in Philo of Alexandria and Paul of Tarsus,” in Anthropology in the New Testament and its Ancient Context: Papers from the EABS-Meeting in Piliscsaba/Budapest (ed. M. Labahn and O. Lehtipuu; Walpole, Mass.: Peeters, 2010), 95-97, notes, Philo repeatedly refers to the earthly human as the first, not the second, generated human (Opif. 136, 139-142; Leg. all. 2:15). Only once does Philo refer to the earthly human as “the second” in contrast to the heavenly human. Yet, contra van Kooten, the fact that Philo calls the earthly man the first generated human does not mean that the heavenly human is the second generated human. Rather, it merely means that the earthly human is the first created human. The heavenly human may still exist prior to the generation of humans in the more specific sense.

302 I find nothing particularly inaccurate about these aspects of the “Philo argument.” I agree that both Paul and Philo emphasize the ontological superiority of the heavenly human over the earthly one, and I agree that Philo’s and Paul’s views regarding the chronological ordering of these two humans differ. Most importantly, I agree with supporters of the “Philo argument” that both Paul and Philo envision humans’ end-goal as involving an ontological transformation from an earthy condition

(represented by the human of Gen 2:7) to a heavenly one.

I find the “Philo argument” to be inaccurate, however, in two key ways. First, supporters of the “Philo argument” do not recognize that both Paul and Philo view humans’ ontological transformation from an earthly state to a heavenly one as part and parcel of humans’ moral progress. In a move reminiscent of Philo, Paul envisions Christ followers’ moral progress to entail an ontological transformation from a fleshly, mortal, and vicious existence to a pneumatic, immortal, and virtuous existence. I will elaborate upon this in my rereading of 1 Cor 2:6-3:4 below.

Moreover, the “Philo argument” is inaccurate in its insistence on the

Corinthians’ position as middlemen without whom Paul would be unable to produce a reading of Gen 2:7. The benefit of this aspect of the “Philo argument” is two-fold. First, by asserting that Paul derives his use of this “Hellenistic Jewish” hierarchical

303 terminology from the Corinthians, scholars are able to recognize the similarities between Paul’s thought and that of Philo without asserting that these similarities attest to a shared interest in a philosophically-influenced exegesis of Jewish scripture. If one subscribes to the “Philo argument,” Paul remains a Jew who is uninfluenced by ancient

Mediterranean philosophy. Paul’s reworking of “Hellenistic Jewish” exegesis in 1 Cor is not based on first-hand knowledge of Philo’s works or ancient Mediterranean philosophy, but on second-hand knowledge of “Hellenistic Jewish” exegesis that is mediated through the Corinthians. Second, though supporters of the standard interpretation do not explicitly note this benefit, the “Philo argument” lends historical backing and validity to scholars’ reconstructions of the Corinthians’ thought. By reconstructing the Corinthians’ thoughts on moral hierarchy in such a way that they resemble those of Philo, scholars lend historical validity to their reconstructions of the

Corinthians’ exegesis that cannot be gained from simple mirror reading. The “Philo argument” thus does more than explain the origins of the purported Corinthian catchphrases πνευματικός and ψυχικός: it both cleanses Paul’s thought of Hellenistic influence and historically grounds reconstructions of the Corinthians’ thought.

Ultimately, these aspects of the “Philo argument” are completely superfluous. I have demonstrated that Paul competently weaves into his program of moral progress

304 philosophical terms and concepts: there is no need to posit the Corinthians as middlemen from whom Paul derives the use of philosophical terms and concepts.

Moreover, Paul is a sufficiently competent exegete of Jewish scriptures, and there is no reason to view his use of Gen 2:7 as a reaction against the Corinthians’ exegesis of this same passage. I find far more likely a scenario in which the Corinthians advanced some notion of realized eschatology or resurrection, and Paul resorts to an expert and philosophically-influenced exegesis of Gen 2:7 in order to demonstrate the fallacy of the Corinthians’ views. Once we admit the likelihood that Paul himself is responsible for introducing an exegesis of Gen 2:7, then the “Philo argument” falls apart. There is no need to view Paul’s use of the πνευματικός-ψυχικός contrast as originating with the

Corinthians: Paul himself is a competent enough exegete of Jewish scripture and a capable enough expositor of philosophical concepts that his use of this contrast is not likely to be dependent upon the Corinthians.

The five major exegetical arguments marshaled in support of the standard interpretation, therefore, carry little weight. They are often incorrect, and they are neither forceful nor definitive. Moreover, to posit that Paul does not support the moral and intellectual hierarchy that he lays out in 1 Cor 2:6-3:4 is to contradict Paul’s statements about moral development and differentiation elsewhere in his letters.

305 Regardless of how, when, or where Paul learned the concepts σοφία, πνευματικός,

ψυχικός, and τέλειος, he uses them with such proficiency and ease in his letters that they are part and parcel of his thought. No interpretive clarity is gained by insisting that Paul does not support the hierarchy implied by his use of the concepts σοφία,

πνευματικός, ψυχικός, and τέλειος in 1 Cor 2:6-3:4. What is gained by adherence to the standard interpretation, then? What is the payoff? Ultimately, the payoff of the standard interpretation is to cleanse Paul’s thought of any hierarchical impulse and to distance Paul from Greek and Roman culture, particularly from Greek and Roman philosophy. And as discussed in previous chapters, this view of an egalitarian Paul who is unaware of ancient Mediterranean philosophy is untenable from a historical standpoint. In the following section, therefore, I offer a more intelligible and historically tenable re-reading of 1 Cor 2:6-3:4.

A New Reading of 1 Cor 2:6-3:4

The assembly of Christ followers that gathered in the city of Corinth caused Paul great grief and distress. Right at the start of his first extant letter to this group, Paul identifies one of the primary causes of his grief and distress: brothers in Corinth are splintering into cliques and quarreling amongst themselves, claiming various allegiances to Paul, Apollos, Cephas, and Christ (1 Cor 1:11-13, 3:3-4). Paul swiftly

306 denounces such factious behavior and attempts to restore the Corinthians to the same mind and thought by reminding them of his good message, which he says he delivered during his first visit to Corinth. Authorizing and legitimating his position by claiming that his good message derives from the power of God rather than human wisdom, Paul then clarifies for his readers and auditors the difference between God’s superior wisdom and the inferior wisdom of humans:

We speak wisdom (σοφίαν) among the mature (τοῖς τελείοις), but not wisdom of this age, not even wisdom of the rulers of this age who are being rendered useless. But we speak God’s wisdom in a mystery having been concealed, a mystery that God predetermined before the ages for the purpose of our glory, a mystery that none of the rulers of this age have known. For if they had known, they would not have crucified the Lord of Glory. But just as it has been written: “Those things that the eye did not see, and the ear did not hear, and have not entered the human heart, those things that God has prepared for the ones loving him,” God revealed to us through the πνεῦμα. For the πνεῦμα searches (ἐραυνᾷ) all things, even the depths of God. For who amongst humans knows the things of the human except the πνεῦμα of the human in him? Thus also no one has known the things of God except the πνεῦμα of God. We did not receive the πνεῦμα of the world but the πνεῦμα which is from God, in order that we may know the gifts given to us by God – those things that we also speak, not in words taught by human wisdom, but in words taught by πνεῦμα, interpreting pneumatic things in pneumatic words (πνευματικοῖς πνευματικὰ συγκρίνοντες). The psychic human (ψυχικὸς) does not receive the things of God’s πνεῦμα, for they are foolishness to him, and he is not able to know that he is examined pneumatically (οὐ δύναται γνῶναι ὅτι πνευματικῶς ἀνακρίνεται). 42 The pneumatic human examines all things (ὁ δὲ

42 Though this final clause of 1 Cor 2:14 is typically translated causally (“because they are pneumatically examined”), an analysis of Paul’s grammatical preferences, the surrounding

307 πνευματικὸς ἀνακρίνει τὰ πάντα), and he is examined by no one. For “who knew the mind of the Lord, who instructs him?” We have the mind of Christ. And I, brothers, was not able to speak to you as pneumatic humans but as fleshly humans (σαρκίνοις), as infants (νηπίοις) in Christ. I gave you milk to drink, not food. For you were not yet able. But not even still now are you able, for you are still fleshly humans (σαρκικοί). For wherever there is jealousy and strife among you, are you not fleshly and do you not live in a human manner (κατὰ ἄνθρωπον)? For whenever someone says “I belong to Paul,” and another says, “I belong to Apollos,” are you not humans? (1 Cor 2:6-3:4)

Paul begins 1 Cor 2:6-3:4 by affirming: “we speak wisdom among the mature.” As argued in the preceding section, Paul does not use “we” in this passage to refer to all

Christ followers. “We” designates a subset of Christ followers who are more advanced in wisdom and virtue than other Christ followers, due to their possession of God’s

πνεῦμα and Christ’s mind (2:6, 2:16). The “we” are one and the same as the τέλειοι (1

Cor 2:6, 14:20, and Phil 3:15) and the πνευματικοί (1 Cor 2:15, 3:1, 14:37, and Gal 6:1).

This is clear from Paul’s use of these terms elsewhere in his letters. Just as Paul uses

“we” in 1 Cor 2:6-3:4 to refer to those Christ followers who speak God’s wisdom and possess the mind of Christ, so too Paul uses the terms τέλειος (1 Cor 13:10-11, 1 Cor

14:20, Rom 12:2) and πνευματικός (1 Cor 2:15-16, Gal 6:1) to refer to any Christ follower

context of 1 Cor, and philosophical parallels contemporary with Paul’s thought suggest that this clause is best translated as a dependent statement (“that they are pneumatically examined”). I argue in support of this translation in “‘ὅτι πνευματικῶς ἀνακρίνεται’: Examining Translations of 1 Corinthians 2:14,” NovT 55.1 (2013): 31-44.

308 who possess superior amounts of divine wisdom and virtue.43 Moreover, that Paul uses the labels τέλειοι and πνευματικοί to refer to the same group of people is apparent in 1

Cor 3:1. In this verse Paul sets the πνευματικός in opposition to the νήπιος, implying that the opposite of νήπιος (τέλειος) is equivalent to the πνευματικός.44 Therefore, when Paul states in 1 Cor 2:6 that “we” speak wisdom among the mature, he means that there is a subset of Christ followers, a subset of which he is a part, who possess Christ’s mind and speak God’s wisdom among themselves.

I find it unlikely that Paul conceives of this group of mature Christ followers to be a clearly defined subset within the assembly. Certainly, Paul considers himself to be one of these morally and intellectually advanced individuals; presumably Paul’s coworkers Barnabas, Timothy, and Apollos are also πνευματικοί. A little conceptual fluidity here, however, serves Paul well. The πνευματικοί are defined as such by their proper behavior. One can be a πνευματικός and stumble back in to improper behavior

(Gal 6:1). Moreover, because Paul envisions Christ followers as gradually developing in virtue, those who are not πνευματικοί can eventually comport themselves in a manner

43 One might object to this equation of “we” with the πνευματικοί in 1 Cor 2:6-3:4 by appealing to Paul’s equation of “you” with the πνευματικοί in Gal 6:1. Once again, however, Paul’s use of pronouns is situational. He is not present with the Galatians and is commanding a certain group to help other Christ followers in their progress in virtue.

44 Sterling, “Wisdom Among the Perfect,” 369, makes this same observation.

309 that makes them worthy of such a title. Thus Paul can conceive of a group of mature and wise Christ followers without necessarily being able to explicitly identify every member of that group.

The πνευματικοί, according to Paul, have gained access to divine wisdom through their reception of the divine πνεῦμα. Beginning by quoting some amalgamation of Deut 29:4 and Isa 64:4 (or an unknown authoritative writing) in order to emphasize the mysterious nature of divine wisdom,45 Paul then proceeds to explain that divine πνεῦμα, not human πνεῦμα, enables the pneumatic person’s reception of divine wisdom. Paul distinguishes between two different types of πνεῦμα in the same way that he distinguishes between two different types of wisdom.46 There is God’s

πνεῦμα (2:11-12, 14), and there is human πνεῦμα (2:11), to which Paul also refers as the

πνεῦμα of the world (2:12).47 Human πνεῦμα searches and knows the things of the human, but God’s πνεῦμα searches and knows all that is from God (2:11). Presumably,

45 As mentioned in Chapter Three, Philo also quotes Deut 29:4 in describing the condition of ignoramuses who are vice-ridden and do not possess wisdom.

46 Mitchell, Rhetoric of Reconciliation, 212, also notes this parallel.

47 I do not understand Paul here to operate with specifically Stoic technicalities in mind, claiming that the πνεῦμα in humans is of a different condition or quality than the πνεῦμα in the inanimate world. Rather, it seems to me that Paul understands this worldly πνεῦμα in the general sense of “that πνεῦμα which is characteristic of those humans who are unwise and vice-ridden.”

310 all humans possess human πνεῦμα, but, according to Paul, pneumatic humans

(“we”/“the mature”) have received God’s πνεῦμα, which has in turn revealed God’s wisdom to them.48

Paul’s distinction between different types of πνεῦμα (human and divine) is paralleled in, though not necessarily identical to, Stoic thought. According to the

Stoics, not only do all life forms and inanimate objects possess πνεῦμα, but they possess

πνεῦμα of varying tensions and movements. Rocks and other such inanimate objects possess πνεῦμα ἑκτικόν (“sustaining πνεῦμα”); plants possess πνεῦμα φυσικόν

(“natural πνεῦμα”); animals possess πνεῦμα ψυχικόν (“psychic πνεῦμα”); and humans possess πνεῦμα ψυχικόν that is characterized by λόγος (“reason”). Yet humans also possess differing types of pneumatic conditions depending upon their life stage and their exercise of reason. At conception, human seed consists of πνεῦμα ἑκτικόν, which then develops into πνεῦμα φυσικόν as the seed transforms into a fetus. Upon birth, the human infant possesses πνεῦμα ψυχικόν and remains in this pneumatic condition until he or she reaches adolescence and the age of reason. At this point, with the development of reason, the human’s πνεῦμα may gradually transform into πνεῦμα that is characterized by the condition of λόγος. If the human becomes fully wise, the πνεῦμα

48 Paul does claim in 1 Cor 2:12 that “we did not receive the πνεῦμα of the world,” but I do not take this to mean that “we” do not inherently possess human πνεῦμα. Rather, I take it to mean that all humans possess human πνεῦμα, but only “we” receive God’s πνεῦμα.

311 comes to be characterized by ὀρθὸς λόγος (“right reason”).49 Paul’s contrast of different types of πνεῦμα certainly resembles Stoic thought, though his arguments as present in his extant letters are not detailed or systematic enough to determine the extent of this resemblance.

The πνευματικοί thus possess God’s πνεῦμα, and this enables them to acquire divine wisdom. This divine wisdom, in turn, enables the πνευματικοί to perform a variety of practices that affect the moral development of other, non-pneumatic Christ followers. The πνευματικοί not only interpret God’s wisdom amongst themselves (1 Cor

2:12-13), but they also help to examine less progressed Christ followers with the intent of restoring to a greater level of virtue those Christ followers who have succumbed to vice. The πνευματικός, according to Paul, examines all things and is examined by no one (1 Cor 2:15).50 As I have argued elsewhere, we should understand the verb ἀνακρίνω

(and its inflected forms) to refer here to an act of examination that is similar to the assessments performed by philosophers of the ancient Mediterranean in the service of

49 I rely here on the work of Haber, “Prokope,” 60-62, 70-93, 459.

50 Cf. Seneca, Ep. 71.19-20: “Wisdom will bring the conviction that there is but one good – that which is honorable; that this can neither be shortened nor extended, any more than a carpenter’s rule, with which straight lines are tested, can be bent. Any change in the rule means spoiling the straight line. Applying, therefore, this same figure to virtue, we shall say: Virtue is also straight, and admits of no bending. What can be made more tense than a thing which is already rigid? Such is virtue, which passes judgment on everything, but nothing passes judgment on virtue” (Gummere, italics are my own).

312 moral progress.51 Particularly important for understanding the force of ἀνακρίνω with respect to the actions of the πνευματικοί are Paul’s statements in 1 Cor 14:23-25. Here

Paul describes an ideal situation in which an outsider happens upon the assembly of

Corinthian Christ followers as they are worshipping the God of Israel. This outsider is attracted to the assembly and their God, and he decides to submit himself for correction and examination by all (ἐλέγχεται ὑπὸ πάντων, ἀνακρίνεται ὑπὸ πάντων).

Ultimately, these acts of correction and examination lead the outsider to reveal his secrets and begin worshipping the Jewish God. Paul’s claim in 1 Cor 14:23-25 that all

Christ followers participate in the correction and examination of an outsider seems to indicate that Paul envisions all Corinthians as capable of conducting processes of examination and correction. Interpreted in light of 1 Cor 2:14-15, then, 1 Cor 14:23-25 suggests, prima facie, that all Christ followers are πνευματικοί. It is critical, however, that one keep in mind the hypothetical nature of Paul’s statements in 1 Cor 14:23-25.

Paul is describing an ideal scenario here, a situation that has the potential to occur if all

Corinthian Christ followers begin to act in accordance with the πνεῦμα that has been bestowed upon them at baptism. In Paul’s ideal world all of the Corinthian Christ

51 For a more detailed argument see Dingeldein, “Examining Translations,” 39-42. Standardly translated “to examine (closely),” “to interrogate,” or “to judge” (LSJ, s.v. ἀνακρίνω), the verb ἀνακρίνω and its inflected forms appear ten times in five different passages in 1 Cor; Paul does not employ the verb anywhere else in his letters.

313 followers would be πνευματικοί who conduct examinations of one another and outsiders desiring to join the assembly. Yet for now, many of the Corinthian Christ followers are not acting as πνευματικοί (3:1).

The processes of examination and correction that Paul describes in 1 Cor 14:23-

25 also square well with Paul’s mention of the πνευματικοί in Gal 6:1. In this verse Paul charges the πνευματικοί with restoring to a more virtuous condition those who have fallen into vice (presumably, not just anyone who has fallen into vice, but those associated or affiliated with the assembly of Christ followers). Thus the πνευματικοί are responsible for interpreting God’s wisdom, examining the faults of other Christ followers, and helping other Christ followers to correct these faults. The πνευματικοί possess divine wisdom, and they use this divine wisdom to build up their fellow Christ worshippers.

Unlike the πνευματικός, the ψυχικός of 1 Cor 2:14 “does not receive the things of God’s πνεῦμα, for they are foolishness to him.” Because the ψυχικός considers such divine gifts foolish, he is unable to know that he is subject to examination by the

πνευματικοί. 52 Admittedly, Paul’s arguments here are not particularly precise or detailed. If the ψυχικός does not receive the things of God’s πνεῦμα, does this mean that he has not received God’s πνεῦμα at all? Has he not been baptized? If he has been

52 Regarding my translation of 1 Cor 2:14 here, see Dingeldein, “Examining Translations.”

314 baptized, why does he not act in accordance with God’s πνεῦμα? Supporters of the standard interpretation have answered these questions by stating that the ψυχικός is not a Christ follower. These scholars assert that Christ followers have received God’s

πνεῦμα through baptism, and thus all Christ followers are πνευματικοί. The ψυχικὸς represents some type of human who does not worship Christ and the God of Israel.

I do not find such a solution to be consonant with Paul’s historical context or his program of moral progress. As discussed in Chapter Four, a Christ follower’s reception of God’s πνεῦμα upon baptism does not result in that Christ follower’s possession of great virtue. Rather, it enables a Christ follower to attain a higher degree of virtue than would have been possible without God’s πνεῦμα. That is, upon baptism a Christ follower’s “inner person” or mind, which Paul likely understands to be the rational portion of a Christ follower’s ψυχή, is infused with the divine πνεῦμα.53 This pneumatic

“inner person” then begins to control the entire person, including the corrupt emotions and desires that are inherent to the Christ follower’s fleshly condition. But this is a gradual process that does not happen overnight. As Paul writes in 2 Cor 4:16:

“Even if our outer human (ὁ ἔξω ἡμῶν ἄνθρωπος) is being destroyed, our inner human

53 Contra Hans Dieter Betz, “The Concept of the ‘Inner Human Being’ (ὁ ἔσω ἄνθρωπος) in the Anthropology of Paul,” NTS 46 (2000): 315-341.

315 (ὁ ἔσω ἡμῶν) is being renewed daily.”54 Thus humans who receive God’s πνεῦμα through baptism are not likely to comport themselves in a manner befitting

πνευματικοί, but in a manner befitting ψυχικοί. Only as Christ followers progress in virtue do they learn to control the corrupt emotions and desires that are inherent in their ethnic and fleshly condition and become fully πνευματικοί.

Paul concludes his discussion of the ψυχικός and πνευματικός with an allusion to and interpretation of Isa 40:13: “For ‘who knew the mind of the Lord, who instructs him?’ We have the mind of Christ” (1 Cor 2:16). Paul here claims that the πνευματικοί have progressed in wisdom and virtue to such a great extent that they now have the mind of Christ. This does not mean that other baptized Christ followers do not possess portions of Christ’s mind through their possession of the divine πνεῦμα, but it does mean that a particular group of mature Christ followers have such great virtue and wisdom that their minds, or “inner persons,” are divine. Undergirding this assertion that the πνευματικοί have the mind of Christ is the notion that Christ followers’ moral development entails assimilation to the divine. Christ followers’ reception of the divine

πνεῦμα at baptism enables them to undergo not only a moral transformation, but an ontological one. Christ followers begin to be transformed into pneumatic beings while they exist in their fleshly bodies, and this transformation will be completed in full upon

54 Cf. Rom 7:22.

316 Christ followers’ resurrection. Importantly, the assimilation of Christ followers to the divine involves an ontological change, as it does in Middle Platonism. Christ followers do not naturally change the condition of their human πνεῦμα as they progress in virtue, as do the Stoics; they receive an altogether different kind of πνεῦμα that enables them to become divine.

Paul finishes describing his schema of hierarchical moral differentiation in 1 Cor

3:1-4, in which he refers to a subset of Corinthian Christ followers “as fleshly humans

(σαρκίνοις), as infants (νηπίοις) in Christ.” Paul clearly envisions fleshly, infantile humans as being less advanced than the mature πνευματικοί, but what are the σαρκικοί in relation to the ψυχικοί? Do fleshly humans and psychic humans constitute the same anthropological category? It does not seem so, but Paul’s argumentation here is, once again, imprecise. If Paul were referring to the same anthropological category, one would expect him to disparage the Corinthians by calling them ψυχικοί, since a few sentences prior he went to the trouble to define the characteristics of the ψυχικός. But instead Paul chastizes the Corinthians by characterizing them according to their fleshly existence. As we have seen in previous chapters, the Middle Platonists and Paul associate human flesh with vice, corrupt emotions, and appetitive desires. In essence,

Paul seems to be suggesting that some of the Corinthians are behaving even more

317 improperly than would a ψυχικός, allowing their fleshly corrupt emotions, desires, and vices to control their inner persons. Paul is not careful to distinguish between the

ψυχικός and the σαρκικός because, ultimately, they both represent stages of moral progress in which the pneumatic inner person does not control the corrupt emotions, desires, and vices of the outer person. The difference between the two anthropological categories is merely a matter of degree with regard to this issue.

My rereading of 1 Cor 2:6-3:4 may be summarized and contextualized within 1

Cor as a whole in the following way. In 1 Cor Paul concerns himself with explaining to

Christ followers that which constitutes virtuous behavior. He not only explains to them how they might comport themselves virtuously in everyday activities (with regard to sexual relations, the consumption of idol meat, communal prophetic activities, and the like), but also how this virtuous behavior is both enabled by and in alignment with the divine πνεῦμα that Christ followers possess. Paul begins his letter by concentrating on one particularly vicious aspect of the Corinthians’ behavior: their factiousness. He attempts to correct this factiousness by reminding the Corinthians of his good message.

Paul equates this good message with a proper understanding of the meaning and significance of Christ’s crucifixion. For non-Jewish Christ followers, Christ’s crucifixion and resurrection are significant because they are the only means by which non-Jewish

318 Christ followers may receive righteousness and sanctification before the God of Israel

(at least according to Paul). Paul is aware that this interpretation of the meaning of

Christ’s crucifixion and resurrection appears foolish and confusing to others, but Paul assures the Corinthians that these activities are due to the wisdom of God.

In 1 Cor 2:6-3:4 Paul explains how Christ followers gain access to this divine wisdom, and he explains who amongst the Corinthian Christ followers possess this wisdom. He and other mature Christ followers, also known as the πνευματικοί, speak and interpret divine wisdom. The πνευματικοί understand divine wisdom because they possess Christ’s mind and the πνεῦμα of God, which they received upon baptism.

Baptism and the reception of God’s πνεῦμα, however, do not ensure that Christ followers will automatically become πνευματικοί, able to understand and interpret divine wisdom. Rather, many of the Corinthian Christ followers still behave according to their fleshly emotions and desires, comporting themselves in a vice-like manner.

They remain altogether human, operating according to the whims of their human souls and human flesh. They are infants in Christ and have not yet begun to conform themselves to the divine πνεῦμα which they received upon their baptism. The

Corinthians must work to become πνευματικοί, learning how to behave in a divine manner by cultivating their virtue and their minds. In the meantime, those who are

319 πνευματικοί must aid the less advanced in their journeys toward intellectual and moral perfection. Complete and utter moral and pneumatic perfection will eventually be achieved upon resurrection. So long as Christ followers are alive, in their fleshly bodies, they remain partially subjected to the vicious whims of the fleshly body. They must strive to act in a virtuous manner whilst in the body, and if they succeed they will be given a pneumatic body after death, ensuring their divine status for eternity.

320

CONCLUSION

Paul’s Philosophy: Gaining Virtue, Gaining Christ

In his correspondences with assemblies of Christ followers scattered throughout the Roman Empire during the first century CE, Paul articulates a schema of salvation for non-Jews that he believes to have been put forth by the God of Israel. Paul argues that the God of Israel has promised non-Jews immortality and resurrection, but only upon the condition that non-Jews progress from a vicious state to a virtuous one. Until this point in history, non-Jews’ ethnic and fleshly condition had so mired them in vice that they typically lacked the ability to progress in virtue. Now, however, due to

Christ’s death and resurrection, non-Jews’ moral development has become possible.

Endowed at their baptism with the astral and divine πνεῦμα of which the resurrected

Christ is made, non-Jews learn to control their appetitive desires, tame their corrupt emotions, faithfully worship the God of Israel, and behave in a manner that is in accordance with good and proper dispositions such as love, faithfulness, and joy. As

Christ followers progress in virtue, they become increasingly assimilated to Christ and encourage one another in this endeavor. In return for non-Jewish Christ followers’

321 faithfulness, the God of Israel deems non-Jewish Christ followers righteous, pure, and blameless. They will receive from God an incorruptible and divine body on the day that

Christ comes to rule the world, and they will be able to join Jews in worshipping God at his temple in Jerusalem.

The moral development that Paul envisions non-Jewish Christ followers undergoing is gradual rather than instantaneous. Proper dispositions and conduct are developed slowly over time through instruction from more virtuous Christ followers and repeated practice. Christ followers progress in virtue at various rates and with varying degrees of success. Paul does not envision Christ followers as equal to one another with respect to the virtue they possess, but rather as morally differentiable from one another. Christ followers who allow the desires and whims of their fleshly bodies to dominate their inner, pneumatic minds remain vice-ridden. They are like infants, unable to gain the reason and virtue necessary to act as mature adults. As their pneumatic minds increase in power and work to control the corrupt emotions, appetitive desires, and vices that arise from their fleshly and ethnic condition, however, Christ followers become increasingly virtuous. Once Christ followers’ inner pneumatic humans rules their vice-ridden fleshly bodies with some consistency and

322 stability, Christ followers may be classed among the mature and divine-like

πνευματικοί.

Much of Paul’s program of moral development for non-Jewish Christ followers resembles the programs of moral progress espoused by ancient Mediterranean philosophers. Though Paul himself is not an ancient Mediterranean philosopher, and though his program of moral progress lacks the specificity and precision of those programs of moral development promoted by contemporary Stoics, Epicureans, and

Middle Platonists, Paul nevertheless competently draws upon philosophical concepts in order to craft a program of moral progress for non-Jews. Though he only refers to the term “virtue” once in his letters, the concept of virtue acquisition is fundamental to his thought. Like the ancient philosophers, he conceives of the virtues as dispositional, intellectual, and affective. For Paul, the virtues are good and proper dispositions or habits of character whose attainment involves a Christ follower’s cultivation of wisdom and enjoyment in this cultivation. Like the sages of antiquity, Paul conceives of a program of moral progress that necessitates the existence of moral differentiation amongst any given group of people. And like ancient Stoics, Epicureans, and Middle

Platonists, Paul uses the existence of this moral differentiation to his advantage,

323 exhorting those Christ followers who are more advanced in virtue to aid less developed

Christ followers in their quests for virtue.

There are aspects of Paul’s program of moral development that align more closely with one particular philosophical school than with others. Following classic

Stoic theory, Paul conceives of the πνεῦμα that non-Jews receive upon baptism as a material substance that aids the minds of humans in their moral development. Paul sharply diverges from the Stoics, however, in arguing that this material πνεῦμα is implanted upon Christ followers at baptism. Unlike the Stoics, Paul does not envision non-Jewish Christ followers as being born with the divine πνεῦμα. Paul’s program of moral development perhaps most closely resembles that of the Epicureans with respect to his sectarian-brand of communal exhortation. Building upon the premise that members of the assemblies of Christ differ from one another in their dispositions, Paul urges strong, mature, pneumatic Christ followers to aid weak, infantile, and fleshly

Christ followers in their moral development through processes of examination and correction. Yet Stoics and Middle Platonists also advocate similar processes of instruction, integrating many Epicurean ideas regarding communal exhortation into their own thought.

324 Ultimately, Paul’s program of moral progress most closely resembles those of contemporary Middle Platonists. Like the Middle Platonists, Paul conceives of moral progress as entailing the ontological transformation of Christ followers as they assimilate to the divine. Christ followers’ moral progress does not merely require following or imitating Christ: Christ followers actually become like the divine, resurrected Christ. Beginning their lives in bodies made of flesh, soul, and human

πνεῦμα, non-Jews receive the divine πνεῦμα upon baptism and undergo a material transformation that, upon resurrection, results in their possession of an entirely pneumatic body. Paul’s emphasis on the materiality of Christ followers’ resurrected bodies is distinctly non-Platonic, but his notion of divine assimilation is characteristic of Middle Platonic ethics. Paul’s association of the fleshly body with corrupt emotions, appetitive desires, and vice most closely resembles Middle Platonic ethics as well.

Moreover, Paul’s dual emphasis on both moderation and elimination of the corrupt emotions is characteristic of Middle Platonic approaches to the emotions: philosophers such as Philo and Plutarch view moderation and elimination of the corrupt emotions as two successive steps of moral progress.

Paul’s program of moral progress most closely resembles Middle Platonic ethics in part because of the flexibility and malleability afforded that tradition by the

325 ambiguity of Plato’s own thought. In his dialogues, Plato wavers in his recommendations regarding the relationship between the rational soul-part and the non-rational soul-parts: at some points Plato suggests that the rational soul-part rule over the soul, and at other times he recommends that the rational soul-part harmonize with the non-rational ones. Plato simultaneously states that moral progress involves both a flight from this world and intimate engagement with earthly affairs. Plato exhorts his readers toward both moderation and elimination of the corrupt emotions.

Plato also never explicitly defines the ultimate goal of philosophy, but he often lauds divine assimilation as part of moral progress. Middle Platonic philosophers are thus the inheritors of a philosophical tradition that is far more flexible and open to extra- tradition supplementation than, for example, Stoicism. In working with concepts that resonate primarily with Middle Platonism, Paul is granted a bit more flexibility in crafting a coherent program of moral progress. It may also be that part of Paul’s attraction to Middle Platonic philosophical concepts comes from the Middle Platonic conception of the divine. Whereas the Stoics conceive of something like a pantheistic

God who is one and the same as Nature and Reason, and the Epicureans conceive of gods who, in their supreme blessed and happy states, have nothing to do with mortal affairs, the Middle Platonists conceive of a supreme God who is wholly transcendent

326 and an intermediate God who is concerned with human affairs. This Middle Platonic conception of the divine in many ways maps well onto Paul’s notion of the God of Israel and his son, Jesus Christ.

The historically-contextualized redescription of Paul’s program of moral development that I have provided in this dissertation is critical for combatting the standard interpretation of 1 Cor 2:6-3:4 and reclaiming as part and parcel of Paul’s thought his statements regarding hierarchical moral differentiation in that passage.

More importantly, however, by providing a historically-situated redescription of Paul’s program of moral development and differentiation, I have demonstrated some of the ways in which Paul’s thoughts about moral progress would have been recognizable and attractive to inhabitants of the ancient Mediterranean. By drawing on philosophical concepts that had both popular and more technical forms, Paul crafts a program of moral progress that would have resonated across various social and intellectual strata.

Paul’s association of moral progress with popular philosophical concepts such as divine assimilation, and the moderation and eradication of corrupt emotions and desires, would have resonated with elites as well as non-elites. Paul’s dressing up of these basic notions of moral progress with more technical philosophical language and ideas regarding the mechanics of moral progress would likely have attracted elite individuals

327 who were better educated in philosophy. Paul’s use of philosophical concepts, both popular and technical, also helps to create and perpetuate a hierarchical schema of intellectual and moral differentiation amongst Christ followers. Elites for whom Paul’s use of technical philosophical concepts resonated would have been in a position to explain to less-educated Christ followers the import of Paul’s program of moral progress. All in all, Paul’s use of philosophical concepts in explicating his program of moral progress to non-Jewish Christ followers enables him to attract elite individuals to his message while managing to not alienate non-elites.

Though I have sought to be as comprehensive as possible in articulating the ways in which Paul’s program of moral progress informs and is informed by other aspects of Paul’s thought, there remain a variety of avenues to be pursued in this regard. Further explorations of Paul’s program of moral progress, for example, might examine Paul’s notion of the relationship between “the law” (ὁ νομός) and moral instruction, or the connections between moral superiority and economic status within

Paul’s assemblies. Moreover, my arguments regarding 1 Cor 2:6-3:4 could be developed and bolstered by an examination of later Christians’ interpretations of this passage.

There is always a goal of perfection toward which dissertation writers continue to strive, knowing full well that the limitations of space and time will never allow such

328 perfection and comprehensiveness to be attained. For now, then, I settle with having achieved the prize of reconstructing Paul’s program of moral development and demonstrating the ways in which he draws upon philosophical concepts in order to make that program intelligible and attractive to inhabitants of the ancient

Mediterranean.

329

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