Carnal Resurrection: Sexuality and Sexual Difference in Early Christianity

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Citation Petrey, Taylor Grant. 2010. Carnal Resurrection: Sexuality and Sexual Difference in Early Christianity. Doctoral dissertation, Harvard Divinity School.

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“Carnal Resurrection: Sexuality and Sexual Difference in Early Christianity”

A dissertation presented

by

Taylor Grant Petrey

to

Harvard Divinity School

in partial fulfillment of the requirements for the degree of Doctor of Theology in the subject of New Testament and Early Christianity

Harvard Divinity School Cambridge, Massachusetts

March 2010

© 2010 Taylor G. Petrey All rights reserved.

Karen L. King, Adviser Taylor G. Petrey

“Carnal Resurrection: Sexuality and Sexual Difference in Early Christianity”

Abstract

This dissertation explores the ways in which early Christians thought about resurrected bodies in terms of desires, sexual practices, and roles, as well as in terms of how maleness and femaleness are distinguished. The early Christian writings on the resurrection discussed in this dissertation addressed a set of interrelated and overlapping questions and goals. First, they sought to define what was meant by the resurrection, especially with respect to what degree of continuity existed between the mortal self and the resurrected self. In doing so, they specified what substances, desires, dispositions, and practices persisted in resurrected bodies and what did not. For early Christians, sexual acts, desires, and reproduction did not have any place in the resurrection. Second, they sought to underscore the importance of having a correct view concerning the resurrection so that they could better understand the mortal body. By examining the resurrected body’s characteristics, early Christians sought to diagnose what was most important about the mortal body. These differences between the mortal and resurrected spheres produced a set of problems for describing not only the relationship of sexual practices, desires and reproduction to resurrected bodies, but also the place of such practices in mortality. Third, as these writers wrangled over what kinds of morphological and substantive bodies would persist in the resurrection, they confronted questions concerning the nature of male and female difference. While they suggested that sexual desires, acts, and reproduction were inessential to resurrected bodies, they argued that maleness and femaleness remained essential features of resurrected bodies. This dissertation explores the instability of the early Christian attempts to separate maleness and femaleness, located in resurrected “parts,” from the gendered discourses of sexual desires, acts, and reproduction.

Table of Contents Acknowledgements viii 1. Introduction to Carnal Resurrection 1 Early Christianity and the Resurrection 1 Bodies, Sexuality, and History 4 Sexual Difference in Antiquity 9 Heat/Cold 10 Hardness/Softness 11 One Seed/Two Seeds 12 Activity/Passivity 14 Desires 17 Parts 19 Bodies, Sexuality, and Sexual Difference in Early Christianity 24 Chapter Outline 30 2. “Like Angels:” Ps. Justin Martyr, De Resurrectione 35 Introduction 35 The Sexualized Nature of the Flesh 37 Ps. Justin’s Desexualized Nature of the Flesh 44 Desexualized Flesh is the Foundation for a Virginal Life 47 Sexuality as Unnecessary 50 Matter and Salvation 56 Virginity is a Practice of Enkrateia 62 Conclusion 65 3. “Spiritual Resurrection” in the Flesh: Epistle to Rheginos 69 Introduction 69 The Son of Man 74 Limits 78 History and Eternity 82 Spiritual Resurrection While in the Flesh 87 Sexuality and Spiritual Resurrection 95 Visibly Invisible Parts 98 Conclusion 103 4. “The Practice of Every Virtue:” Athenagoras, De Resurrectione 107 Introduction 107 Virtue and Sexual Difference 111 Philosophy and the Human Body/Soul Relationship 120 Mastery Over Desire 125 Sexual Practice and Sexual Difference 133 Parts and Chain Consumption 137 Humors and the Resurrected Body 140 Conclusion 150

v 5: “As a Bridegroom with a Bride:” Irenaeus, Adversus Haereses 153 Introduction 153 The Place of Sex and Reproduction in the Divine Economy 156 Adam, Eve, and Innocence 157 Christ, Adam, and the Resurrection 162 Eve and Mary 166 Mortal Fleshiness and Resurrected Flesh 169 Growth 174 The Place of Sexual Difference in the Divine Economy 178 Feminine Bodies 178 Feminized Males 184 Conclusions 193 6. Conclusion 196 The Multiplicity of Christianity 198 Christianity and Greco-Roman Culture 204 Parts 207 Sexual Difference 210 Sexuality 214 Conclusion 217 Works Cited 220

vi

To my teachers and To Stacey L. Petrey

vii

Acknowledgements

There are many people to whom I am indebted for the completion of this project. I am particularly thankful to my adviser Karen L. King, who fostered my interests, encouraged my research, fruitfully challenged me intellectually, and above all devoted countless hours to reviewing and commenting on my work. Her guidance and vision for the study of early Christianity has profoundly influenced me and I am honored to have been her student. I am also thankful to the members of my dissertation committee, Laura S. Nasrallah and Amy Hollywood, incredibly influential teachers who shaped my way of understanding scholarship and the world. I also wish to thank my friends and colleagues at Harvard who have offered endless hours of conversation and collaboration. I am especially thankful to Benjamin Dunning, Carly Daniel-Hughes, Brent Landau, Cavan Concannon, Katherine Shaner, and Mikael Haxby who have read and commented on my work over the years. I also wish to thank members of the New Testament Dissertation Seminar who have offered so many excellent suggestions, with particular thanks to Kenneth Fisher, Cavan Concannon, and Marcie Lenk, who offered written responses that helped to shape my thinking. I also thank the faculty members of that seminar besides my advisers, including Francois Bovon, Elisabeth Schüssler-Fiorenza, John Townsend, and Giovanni Bazzana who offered their helpful feedback. I am also thankful to the institutions that have provided material support, including Harvard Divinity School, the HDS Dean’s Dissertation Grant, and the Religious Education Grant from Brigham Young University that have made it possible to pursue my research. I wish to especially thank my wife Stacey L. Petrey who has supported my scholarship for many years now. Her encouragement and devotion has been the most important factor in the pursuit and completion of this dissertation. Many have also provided the necessary care for our son Theodore B. Petrey that has made it possible for me to have the time to write. I am very grateful to the Beus family, the Woods family, and Lois Ball who have given their care and attention in this regard.

viii 1. Introduction to Carnal Resurrection

Early Christianity and the Resurrection

This dissertation will explore the ways in which early Christians thought about resurrected bodies in terms of desires, sexual practices, and roles and the ways in which maleness and femaleness are distinguished. In other words, the resurrection will be analyzed through the lens of sexuality and sexual difference.

The second century roiled with debate and inconsistency over the nature of the resurrection. This debate picked up roughly in the third quarter of the second century, likely during or immediately following the reign of Marcus Aurelius (161-

180 CE). Most of these debates appeared among Greek-speaking Christians, although they are preserved in Greek, Latin, and Coptic texts, thereby demonstrating the wide interest in these topics in later decades. Polemicists and apologists defended their particular view of the nature of the resurrected body against both

Christian and non-Christian “doubters.” The four authors featured here—Pseudo-

Justin Martyr, the anonymous author of the Epistle to Rheginos, Athenagoras, and

Irenaeus—produced extended treatments of the issue that lay the groundwork for producing a new discourse on the resurrection that continues for centuries. Though there are broad similarities among some of the texts, each is distinctive not only in how the resurrected body is presented, but also in expressing why its views should be accepted as normative.

The rise of dedicated treatises on the resurrection in the second half of the second century coincides with the rise of apologetic works more generally. Works

1 by Justin Martyr, Athenagoras, Tatian, and Theophilus treat the resurrection as a part of their overall demonstrations of the truthfulness of Christianity. These works offer compressed arguments focusing on the possibility of the resurrection.1 These texts also offer a glimpse into the diversity of Christian belief about the resurrection.

Though he wants to exclude categorically anyone who denies the resurrection from

Christianity, Justin Martyr goes so far as to say that some “who are called Christians” deny the resurrection altogether.2 Polycarp may also be read suggesting that many

Christians denied the resurrection and judgment.3 We shall see that others described resurrection in a variety of different ways. This inner-Christian context of debates about the resurrection informs the rise of the extended treatises in the second half of the second century.

At the same time, extensive non-Christian criticism also increased in intensity as a motivation for the new Christian focus on the resurrection.

Intellectuals like Galen, Celsus, and even Marcus Aurelius took increasing note of

Christians during this period. Celsus’ critique of “Jewish” notions of the resurrection is instructive as to the kinds of arguments being put forth. Celsus suggests that

“flesh” is full of all sorts of problematic things that are “not even honorable to mention.”4 Most interestingly, Celsus notes that “some of the Christians” agree that

1 Justin Martyr, 1 Apol. 18-19; Athenagoras, Legatio, 36; Tatian. Ad Graec., 6; Theophilus, Ad Autolycus, I.7,13; II.14, 26, 27.

2 Justin Martyr, Dial. 80.

3 Ep. Polycarp, 7.1.

4 Origen, Contra Celsum, 5.14.

2 the resurrection of the flesh is “exceedingly vile, and loathsome, and impossible.”5

Celsus then witnesses that not only non-Christians and non-Jews object to the resurrection of the flesh, but also that many Christians adopted these same arguments in their understanding of the resurrection. Adding to the testimony of

Justin Martyr, the diversity of Christian understandings of the resurrection at this time was such that one could not summarize a single “Christian” view of the resurrection without qualification. Such statements speak to the diversity of thought on the resurrection, diversity that is unfortunately not well preserved.

This heightened concern to defend the teaching of the resurrection and define its nature among some Christians set the scene for the questions about sexuality and sexual difference. In attempting to define the parameters of what kinds of bodies would be raised, and how they would differ from mortal bodies, sexuality and sexual difference come to occupy a prominent role, as we shall see.

What were the issues that that led to such a development? It is impossible to derive a systematic narrative that can cover the range of Christian beliefs regarding the resurrection in the first and second century as a whole. Not only must one face the fragmentary evidence that survives, but also one must account for the vast geographical and temporal expanse of Christian communities in this period.

Rather than claim a comprehensive understanding of this period, I shall proceed with a close reading of the surviving texts from this period as a potential window onto two related questions. The first is related to the question that the

Corinthians asked to the Apostle Paul concerning the resurrection, namely, “with

5 Origen. Contra Celsum, 5.14.

3 what kind of body do they come?”6 Subsequent Christians repeatedly posed this question, trying to imagine how a body could be immortal. What was the relationship between the flesh and the body? What kind of flesh would not be subject to death? How would it be different from mortal flesh? Many early

Christians, though not all, insisted on a view of the resurrection that included the flesh, but they also described the resurrected flesh in such a way as to make it quite different from mortal flesh. To give one salient example, some early Christians described a resurrected flesh that lacks sexual desires and is incapable of sexual practices such as intercourse and reproduction.

The question about how resurrected bodies will differ from mortal bodies concerns sexuality. In brief, we will see how for early Christians, sexual acts and desires, and sexual reproduction did not have any place in the resurrection. This difference between the mortal and resurrected spheres produced a set of problems for thinking about and describing not only the relationship between resurrected bodies and sexuality, but also the place of sexuality in mortality. What does it mean to speak of a flesh that does not desire and is incapable of any sexuality? How are sexuality and sexual difference related, if at all, in resurrected bodies? If there is no sexuality, on what basis is sexual difference established?

Bodies, Sexuality, and History

To approach these questions is to take up an investigation along the lines of

Michel Foucault’s call for “a history of bodies” that explores “the manner in which

6 1 Cor 15:35. All translations are my own, unless otherwise noted.

4 what is most material and vital in them has been invested.”7 To do so, I have found

Judith Butler’s suggestion that, “there is no reference to a pure body which is not at the same time a further formation of that body” to be a useful lens for analyzing the resurrected body.8 The resurrected body that early Christians imagined was precisely a reference to a pure body that was a formation of that body. The resurrected body was an occasion to think about and invest in mortal bodies what was most essential to what it meant to be a human. Early Christian discussions about the nature of the resurrected body provide a useful site to investigate how the body itself is discursively constituted, and the implications of forming the body in various ways.

My turn to the early Christian debate over the resurrected body as a site for thinking about sexuality and sexual difference is rooted in the contemporary scholarly turn to classical antiquity in the genealogy of sexuality. Such studies build on the modern Western notion that sexuality has a history, that it has been imagined and deployed in various ways. Since Foucault’s evaluation of classical antiquity in volumes two and three of The History of Sexuality, along with his unfinished volume four, antiquity has been an important site for rethinking modern Western notions of gender, sexuality, and the body in relationship to the formation of the self.

Foucault’s research inaugurated a field of research that looked to antiquity to destabilize contemporary conceptualizations of subjectivity that had been based on discourses that normatively constructed sexuality in terms of a biologically durable

7 Michel Foucault, The History of Sexuality (London: Penguin, 1990), 152.

8 Judith Butler, Bodies That Matter: On the Discursive Limits Of "Sex" (New York: Routledge, 1993), 10.

5 body and naturalized power relations of sexual hierarchy. As David Halperin put it,

“Not only does this historical distance [between antiquity and modernity] permit us to view ancient social and sexual conventions with particular sharpness; it also enables us to bring more clearly into focus the purely conventional character of our own social and sexual experiences.”9

This dissertation will explore the ways in which early Christians thought about the divisions between sexuality and sexual difference with regard to resurrected bodies, and the instability of such a division. The division between sexuality and sexual difference as an analytical distinction has been made in modern feminist thought as well, in terms of the categories of sex/gender/sexuality. But such a division has been called into question from other voices in feminist theory, as to whether such a neat division of these categories is possible. They argue that these categories are mutually informed by one another such that to describe bodies as sexed males and females is already to locate these bodies within sexuality, particularly in a heterosexual framework.

Butler, for example, opens up her book Bodies that Matter with a response to the charge that she ignored “real” bodies in her account of the performativity of gender in Gender Trouble.10 She was accused of ignoring the realities of sex, of the material differences between males and females. In response, she claims, “‘sex’ not only functions as a norm, but is part of a regulatory practice that produces the

9 David M. Halperin et al., Before Sexuality: The Construction of Erotic Experience in the Ancient Greek World (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1990), 7.

10 Judith Butler, Gender Trouble: Feminism and the Subversion of Identity (New York: Routledge, 1999).

6 bodies it governs.”11 Sexual difference is not simply a biological question, but a social question. Once sexual difference is rooted in the ideologically imbued scientific discourses of biology, and can be analyzed as an ideological effect, it is then possible to reimagine it. Such a reimagination is central to Judith Butler’s resignification of sexual difference in such a way to challenge the heterosexual bipolarity of “males” and “females.” In this sense, the resurrected body is not to be contrasted with the “real” body, but rather exposing the ideological basis of the “real body” “is simply to promote an alternative imaginary to a hegemonic imaginary and to show, through that assertion, the ways in which the hegemonic imaginary constitutes itself through the naturalization of an exclusionary heterosexual morphology.”12 Building on this insight, we can ask: inasmuch as the resurrected bodies imagined by ancient Christians neither procreate nor participate in sexual activities, do they too constitute a type of challenge to and denaturalization of the binary sexual difference of antiquity by resisting sexuality as the primary discourse of sexual differentiation?

The French feminist philosopher Monique Wittig, who saw lesbianism as the only true form of feminism, influences Butler here. Wittig challenges the

“sex/gender” distinction that in much of feminism mimes a nature/culture distinction, where sex is to nature as gender is to culture. She makes the case “sex” itself is already culturally produced. But what about obvious differences among bodies? She contends, “what we believe to be physical and direct perception is only

11 Butler, Bodies That Matter, 1.

12 Butler, Bodies That Matter, 91.

7 a sophisticated and mythic construction, an ‘imaginary formation,’ which reinterprets physical features (in themselves as neutral as any others but marked by the social system) through the network of relationships in which they are perceived.”13 Here, Wittig suggests that no valid appeal can be made to the body as the ground of sexual difference since such appeals already consist in a determination of what “parts” of the body count as doing the work of creating the differences, and are already a particular interpretation of a body rather than a reference to socially unmediated nature. For Wittig, such a construction of the category of “sex” “founds society as heterosexual.”14

I wish to acknowledge the limitations of thinking about the category of sexuality as articulated by Wittig (and Butler) for thinking about ancient texts and society. There is a way in which the heterosexuality that Wittig discusses prioritizes sexuality as the only marker of sexual difference, and the homosexuality that she discusses is conceived in broader terms than sexuality alone, such as community.15

While I do not necessarily accept the totalizing reductions of hetero- and homosexuality of Wittig, she nevertheless points in interesting directions for thinking about the relationship between bodies and sexuality in early Christianity.

Wittig suggests that female homosexuality disrupts the hierarchies between men and women providing a space for women’s liberation. Would the elimination of all sexuality as described by early Christians also entail eliminating any meaningful

13 Monique Wittig, The Straight Mind and Other Essays (Boston: Beacon Press, 1992), 11-12.

14 Wittig, The Straight Mind and Other Essays, 5.

15 I thank Mikael Haxby for this important insight.

8 distinctions and hierarchies between males and females? Wittig and Butler suggest that an attempt such as that done by early Christians to naturalize sexual difference is rooted in a system of heterosexuality. If not in terms of sexuality, on what possible basis would the distinction between male and female bodies matter?

Sexual Difference in Antiquity

Historians of Greco-Roman culture have addressed these questions about the relationship between sexuality and sexual difference. While it might seem natural to modern Western peoples that the two “sexes” are different, this was the subject of much debate in ancient philosophical and medical schools. Sexual difference as a category covers the multiple modes in which distinctions may be made between males, females, and those otherwise “sexed.” The term “sexual difference” is here preferred to “gender” in order to avoid the implied sex/gender distinction as well as to acknowledge the implication of sexuality in the process of differentiating maleness and femaleness. The sex/gender distinction often obscures the very ways in which male and female bodies are distinguished from one another in classical antiquity.

Thomas Laqueur’s research on “sex” in Western culture serves as an important starting point. He distinguishes ancient models of sexual difference from modern categories of sex and gender. He proposes that the categories of “sex” as immutable and “gender” as variable are reversed in antiquity.16 Laqueur argues that ancient discourse about what we would call “biology” seems clearly rooted in

16 Thomas Walter Laqueur, Making Sex: Body and Gender from the Greeks to Freud (Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1990), 8.

9 cultural particularities. Such a view has been influential for acknowledging the difference between modern and ancient understandings of sexual difference. The appeal to the “body” is not an appeal to some stable, empirically known entity, but it is rooted in particular historical understandings. Laqueur’s idea is of a “one sex” model in antiquity, where “the boundaries between male and female are of degree and not of kind.”17 This “one sex” was then manifest in (at least) two different ways, male and female, but at the root was a shared “sex.” Bodies expressed sexual difference, but sexual difference was not reducible to bodies.

At root of the different manifestation of this “one-sex” was a set of differential qualities. While acknowledging a multiplicity of ways that sexual differentiation was done in antiquity, we might focus on a few that have received the most attention. For instance, different degrees of “heat,” hardness and softness including levels of fluidity, the sexually differentiated “seeds” between males and females, activity and passivity, and the management of desires were all ways of distinguishing maleness and femaleness. Finally, there are references to the different “parts” themselves of males and females. It’s worth noting briefly that many of these discourses of sexual difference are rooted in notions of sexuality, as we shall see, suggesting that the economy of difference is especially connected to the realm of reproduction, desires, and sexual roles.

Heat/Cold

17 Laqueur, Making Sex, 25.

10 Ascribed elements such a “vital heat” were one way of marking the difference between maleness and femaleness. Different bodies possessed varying levels of this vital heat. As Laqueur explains, “[Anatomy] makes vivid and more palatable a hierarchy of heat and perfection that is in itself not available to the senses.”18 These varying levels of “heat” in different kinds of bodies established a hierarchy. Galen explains, “Now just as mankind is the most perfect of all animals, so within mankind the man is more perfect than the woman, and the reason for his perfection is his excess of heat, for heat is Nature’s primary instrument.”19 For Galen and others, sexual difference was nature’s way of establishing hierarchy.

Hardness/Softness

Further, the “texture of the flesh” differed between women and men.

Women’s flesh was thought to be softer, wetter, spongier, and able to absorb greater amounts of fluid. As a result of this absorption of more fluids, menstruation needs to occur regularly to dispose of the excess. If not, the woman’s body would become too hard, compact, and pressured, resulting in sickness.20 In the Hippocratic tradition, where the differences between male and female were understood as more different than say, the Aristotelian model, the regulation of moisture and fluids was especially important to female health. In particular, proper moisture was key to

18 Laqueur, Making Sex, 26, 27.

19 Galen, On the Usefullness of Parts, 2.630. Quoted in Laqueur, Making Sex, 28.

20 Helen King, Hippocrates' Woman: Reading the Female Body in Ancient Greece (London ; New York: Routledge, 1998), 28-31.

11 prevent “wandering womb,” the uterus from moving around in the body in search of a more wet environment.

Sexuality was a particular part of the regimen for controlling and managing relative wetness. Menstruation was understood as the female body’s way of regulating its excess fluids, except in pregnancy and the production of breast milk when these fluids were diverted for these purposes. Sexual intercourse was prescribed to both open the passageway for menstrual blood, but also to wet the womb with seminal fluid. In this system, Rebecca Flemming suggests that “woman’s health depends on her reproductive activity; fulfilling her social role makes her healthy.”21

One Seed/Two Seeds

One key way to mark differences between maleness and femaleness on the issue of reproduction included the kind of “seed” produced by males and females.

While Aristotle proposed the basic theory that males and females were greater or lesser-perfected versions of one another (also held by Galen), for Aristotle the major difference between men and women was that women did not ejaculate seed, as the

Hippocratic and Galenic theories would hold. Instead, there is a kind of

“ungendered blood” which is cooked fully by males, but discarded as menses by females. “Both the residue in males and the menstrual fluid in females are of a bloodlike nature,” he explained.22 In this way, the blood is the same between males

21 Rebecca Flemming, Medicine and the Making of Roman Women: Gender, Nature, and Authority from Celsus to Galen (Oxford ; New York: Oxford University Press, 2000), 117.

22 Aristotle. GA 776b10. Translation from A. L. Peck, Aristotle: Generation of Animals, The Loeb Classical Library (Cambridge, Mass.; London: Harvard University Press; W. Heinemann ltd., 1943),

12 and females, but the male heat is able to produce a thicker, frothier version of seed from it that is more powerful. In contrast, the female is only able to produce a less white, more watery seed, the catamenia, and the even less concocted stuff is discarded as menses. This female “seed” is entirely incidental to procreation, since only the seed that is fully cooked is able to contribute to procreation. In this theory, males provide the efficient cause of generation, while females contribute the material cause.23 Female bodies also emit a substance that causes pleasure, “but that humidity is not spermatic,” Aristotle argues.24

Galen accepts that both males and females produce “seed,” as opposed to

Aristotle, but he retains a hierarchy between them by claiming that the male seed is more thoroughly cooked and therefore more potent. In the Galenic model, males and females both contributed “seed” in reproduction, though each contribution was at a different stage of maturity. In this model, Laqueur explains, “the male and female seed cannot be imagined as sexually specific, morphologically distinct, entities….Instead, the substances ejaculated by the ‘two sexes’ in the one-sex body were hierarchically ordered versions of one another according to their supposed power.”25 The complementarity of the male and female sexual organs also speaks to the relative superiority of the male organs. Yet there is no essentialized, ontological sexual difference in the body itself. Male and female organs are simply

471.

23 Laqueur, Making Sex, 38-43.

24 Aristotle, GA 727b33-38a4. Cf. Aristotle, History of Animals, 583a8.

25 Laqueur, Making Sex, 38.

13 manifestations of the differential heat possessed by both bodies, specifically the heat necessary for reproduction.

In the Hippocratic tradition, like the Galenic, there are two seeds, one emitted from the father and one from the mother. The various traits of each parent are matched and the “stronger” is the dominant one. Indeed, the very sex of the child is determined by the strength of the seed itself, no matter who produces it. A strong seed produces a boy and a weak seed a girl. Other versions of this tradition hold that the combinations of the father’s and mother’s seed, depending on both the strength of the seeds and whether or not it was male or female, produces six kinds of people: masculine men, slightly feminine men, very feminine men, feminine women, slightly masculine women, and very masculine women.26 In this way, the scaled masculinity and femininity of males and females is also accounted for in the seed itself.

Activity/Passivity

As we have seen, Aristotle held that women did not need to “ejaculate” or experience pleasure at all in order to procreate. While female pleasure was optional, male pleasure was indispensable, not because pleasure itself contributed to generation, but because it was required for the expulsion of seed.27 Women occupied an entirely passive role in sexual intercourse, both anatomically and physiologically.28 Hierarchically regulated by the logic of passivity and activity with

26 King, Hippocrates' Woman, 9.

27 Laqueur, Making Sex, 47.

28 Giulia Sissa, Sex and Sensuality in the Ancient World (New Haven [Conn.]; London: Yale University

14 respect to penetrability, the more masculine partner played the penetrating, active role, while the feminized partner played the penetrated, passive role.

This logic applied to relationships between males and females, but also between males and males, and females and females. In both Roman and Greek cultures generally, male-male sexual relationships were sanctioned when the active- male held a socially superior position to the passive-male. The rhetoric about same- sex sexual relations was governed by the logic of social hierarchy, not the naturalness of heterosexual sex. The penetrated male was the Greek kinaidos,

Latinized as cinaedus. This hierarchy among males worked on a sliding scale of manliness, “whereby social status was characterized on the basis of perceived bodily integrity and freedom, or the lack of it, from invasion from the outside.”29

Marilyn Skinner argues that, “passivity was a bankruptcy of will and nerve and only secondarily a sexuality.”30 Males could be “assigned to one of two categories, ‘man’

(vir) or ‘not-man’ (cinaedus).”31 The object choice of penetration was significantly less important than the fact that the vir is definitionally the one who is penetrating.

Demonstrating Roman conceptions that boys and old men were prone to passivity,

Skinner suggests, “being a cinaedus is the zero-degree condition out of which

Press, 2008), 86.

29 Jonathan Walters, "Invading the Roman Body: Manliness and Impenetrability in Roman Thought," in Roman Sexualities, ed. Judith P. Hallett and Marilyn B. Skinner (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1997), 30.

30 Marilyn B. Skinner, Sexuality in Greek and Roman Culture, Ancient Cultures (Malden, MA: Blackwell, 2005), 212.

31 Skinner, Sexuality in Greek and Roman Culture, 212.

15 manhood emerges, given a sane and healthy mind, and into which it must eventually sink back. Some potential men never make it.”32

While Greek culture generally allowed for a passive role for young men, passivity for males in the sexual act was viewed with increased suspicion in the

Roman Empire. Caligula banished male prostitutes, and Severus Alexander considered such a move as well. Males who voluntarily submitted to penetration would be punished in losing half their property and the right to control the will on the other half. Under Christian Theodosian rule, the law prescribed that male prostitutes were to be burned alive.33 Jonathan Walters connects “the Roman sexual protocol that defined men as impenetrable penetrators can most usefully be seen in the context of a wider conceptual pattern that characterized those of high social status as being able to defend the boundaries of their body from invasive assaults of all kinds.”34 What is implicit in the objection to men being penetrated is that men should be penetrators, an expectation that was increasingly applied not only to upper-class men, but all males.

The logic of passivity in sexual relations was even more strictly regulated for females. This economy of passivity and activity also explains why sexual relationships between females were so disruptive to the symbolic order because there was no clear dominant and submissive role.35 Bernadette Brooten explains,

32 Skinner, Sexuality in Greek and Roman Culture, 213.

33 Skinner, Sexuality in Greek and Roman Culture, 285.

34 Walters, "Invading the Roman Body: Manliness and Impenetrability in Roman Thought," 30.

35 Bernadette J. Brooten, Love between Women: Early Christian Responses to Female Homoeroticism, The Chicago Series on Sexuality, History, and Society (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1996), XX.

16 “the actions of the mollis and the tribade were thus unnatural not because they violated natural heterosexuality but because they play out—literally embodied— radical, culturally unacceptable reversals of power and prestige.”36 In this view, women must not only be passive in the sexual act, but also cultivate passivity in their character consistent with their nature. Brooten notes, “males could be either active or passive (such as when they were boys or slaves), whereas females were always supposed to be passive.”37 Such a view not only enforced a prohibition on female homoeroticism, but also simultaneously situated women hierarchically in relationship to men. By virtue of “naturally” occupying the passive role, women were “naturally” inferior to men who could by nature occupy the active role (even when they failed to do so). Women were caught in the passive/active protocol as hierarchically inferior. As Stephen Moore puts it: “Sex in this symbolic economy is nothing other—can be nothing other—than eroticized inequality. And this inequality is immeasurably productive, masculine and feminine subjects themselves being manufactured through the eroticization of dominance and submission.”38

Desires

Another instance of the ways in which sexual difference was bound up with discourses of sexuality, desire was often attributed to the feminine and females in classical Greek thought. Hesiod’s Theogony reasons that females were the cause of

36 Laqueur, Making Sex, 53.

37 Brooten, Love between Women, 2.

38 Stephen D. Moore, God's Beauty Parlor: And Other Queer Spaces in and around the Bible, Contraversions (Stanford, Calif.: Stanford University Press, 2001), 153.

17 desire in males. Zeus punishes humans after Prometheus gives them fire by creating a woman. Before this, female gods existed, as did procreation, but it was women who introduced desire which disrupted the previously harmonious society. As

Giulia Sissa explains: “Woman aroused in man the appetite of desire, thus spelling an end to contentment and self-sufficiency.”39 The female introduced the kind of desire that had negative, destructive implications for society. To reverse this desire was to hearken back to a time before sexual difference, a time of masculinity without the corrupting influence of femininity.

Some Christians agreed with Hesiod that the elimination of the female and the feminine was the solution to sexual desire. Clement of Alexandria counters an androgynous salvation wherein both male and female are eliminated in the heavenly realm, arguing that the saved person will be characteristically male because it will lack desire.

But when a man gives in neither to wrath nor to desire…uniting spirit and soul in obedience to the Word, then, as Paul also says, "there is among you neither male nor female." (Gal 3:28) For the soul leaves this physical form in which male and female are distinguished, and being neither the one nor the other changes to unity. But this worthy fellow [viz., Julius Casinos, Concerning Continence and Celibacy] thinks in Platonic fashion that the soul is of divine origin and, having become female by desire (cupidirate effeminatam), has come down here from above to birth and corruption.40

Here, Clement explains that Casinos believe that desire in the soul is what produced the female. While Clement rejects this view, he nevertheless maintains that the male

39 Giulia Sissa, "The Sexual Philosophies of Plato and Aristotle," in A History of Women in the West, ed. Pauline Schmitt Pantel (Cambridge, MA: Belknap Press, 1992), 61.

40 Clement, Stromates III, 93, 2-3. Translation from John Ernest Leonard Oulton and Henry Chadwick, Alexandrian Christianity: Selected Translations of Clement and Origen, The Library of Christian Classics; V. 2 (Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1954).

18 virtue of overcoming desire is the key to the realization of Gal 3:28. The unity of the soul as neither male nor female is achieved only as the soul becomes masculine.

Parts

What about body parts themselves for distinguishing between males and females? For ancients, the sexual organs most prominently exhibited the hierarchy of men over women. In discussions of sexual difference, physicians noted an uneven parity between male and female organs.41 Galen’s view of the sexual organs, however, develops an explicit parity between the male and the female. He explains:

Think first, please, of the man’s [external genitalia] turned in and extending inward between the rectum and the bladder. If this should happen, the scrotum would necessarily take the place of the uterus with the testes lying outside, next to it on either side.

The same thought experiment is given for women:

Think too, please, of…the uterus turned outward and projecting. Would not the testes [ovaries] then necessarily be inside it? Would it not contain them like a scrotum? Would not the neck [cervix and vagina] hitherto concealed inside the perineum but now pendant, be made into the male member?42

41 There was, however, not always agreement about which male and female organs constituted that parity. While Ps. Justin contrasts the uterus and the penis as the locus of the reproductive sexual function, Soranus considers the uterus on its own. Instead, he compares the penis and vagina as the complementary organs. Soranus sees a sort of parity between them when he says, “The inner part of the vagina grows around the neck of the uterus like the prepuce (foreskin) in males around the glans.” (Soranus, Gyn, 1.16). The uterus itself has no corresponding part in males, though there are a number of other shared elements. The ovaries were compared to the testicles, both called “twins” (δίδυµι). He notes that the shape of the didymi is slightly different between the males and females (Soranus, Gyn, 1.16). While both the male and female didymi share a cremastic muscle, he notes a key difference that “the female seed seems not to be drawn upon in generation since it is excreted externally.” (Soranus, Gyn, 1.12). He explains that the tubes that run from the female didymi end with the discharge of the seed in the neck of the bladder rather than the uterus. For Soranus, while there is a structural similarity between the vagina and the penis, there is a functional similarity between the male and female didymi. The product of intercourse is, however, the combination of the seed that is expelled through the penis and the “land” of the uterus, while the female seed is useless (Soranus, Gyn, 1.36). While he acknowledges the parity in a “two-seed” view of reproduction, the creative, productive, and active function remain male, while the female is passive. All translations from Owsei Temkin, Soranus' Gynecology, Softshell Books ed. (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1991).

42 Galen, De Usu Partirum, 2.628-629. Translation in Laqueur, Making Sex, 25-26.

19

In these passages, Galen imagines that the female reproductive organs are an inversion of the male’s.

We have seen that relative heat was thought to have caused the externalization of the male genitals, and lack of heat the internalization of the female genitals. These “parts,” among others, including bones, blood, and the particles that make up the body were particularly important in certain medical systems during the imperial era. Flemming suggests that there were two underlying theories of the nature of human bodies in this era. This first is that human bodies are made up of various humoral qualities or substances, such as hot/cold and wet/dry. This humoral model was distinct from the model based on body parts, or particularities.

She explains, “instead of certain sorts of corpuscles combining in a particular way to produce, for example, blood, bone, muscle, and so forth—which then combine in a particular way to form a human being—a human being, to be what it is, requires a particular combination of blood, bone, muscle, and so on, which, in turn, need to be formed from certain sorts of substances or qualities to be able to fulfill their function.”43 In other words, the difference between the humoral model and parts model has to do with which is more fundamental, the humors or the parts, and which is secondary.

The parts, then, like the humors, play a role in sexual differentiation. In the medical model that emphasized the “parts” as more fundamental, the differences between the sexes are seen as less fungible. While the “one-sex” model had one

43 Flemming, Medicine and the Making of Roman Women, 94.

20 explanation for the different parts, Helen King argues that this was not the only available model in antiquity. Indeed, she challenges Laqueur’s thesis that it wasn’t until the seventeenth century that “writers of all sorts were determined to base what they insisted were fundamental differences between male and females sexes.”44 King argues that Laqueur overlooks the Hippocratic tradition in his focus on Galen and Aristotle. She demonstrates that the shift in emphasis to

“fundamental” sexual differences in modernity was explicitly rooted in Hippocratic theory, “where it is assumed that women are not just cold men, but are creatures entirely different from men in the texture of their flesh and in the associated physiological function.”45 This model rejects a “one sex” view of human beings, and instead posits two completely different sexes, wherein the entire body is marked as different.

In the Hippocratic tradition, women were constructed as fundamentally different from men by virtue of their unique organs, such as the uterus, and practices, such as menstruation. As such, the female body required a different kind of medicine, with different practices and therapies, concentrated in the discipline of gynecology. For instance, according to this tradition, women have a hodos, or a path that runs from the vagina to the mouth. This path must be kept clear from blockages to maintain health and fertility, and remedies such as fumigation are aimed at achieving this goal.46 King notes, “In some Hippocratic texts…the model of the

44 Laqueur, Making Sex, 5.

45 King, Hippocrates' Woman, 11.

46 King, Hippocrates' Woman, 27-28.

21 female body extended sexual difference into every particle of the flesh.”47 Soranus, however, bears witness to a debate about whether women were sufficiently different to warrant their own branch of medicine that continued into the second century.48 Rejecting the Hippocratic tradition, he argued that, except for the specific conditions of the womb, pregnancy, and lactation, men and women were no different.49

We shall see that early Christians were invested in the nature of the human being as understood by the parts, rather than the humors, in speaking about the resurrection. Yet they faced the problem that the notions of the humoral differences and the differences in the parts were intimately connected. While ancient medical theorists may have disputed whether one was more fundamental, they nevertheless agreed that both humors and parts were essential to what it meant to be human, and how it was that the sexes were differentiated. Further, sexuality was bound up in the distinctions between men and women, whether in the realm of reproduction, sexual roles, or desires. What would it mean for early Christians to try to describe and imagine bodies without humors or sexuality? How would sexual differences be marked? What would happen if they appealed simply to the “parts?” Which parts would rise? Indeed, one of the key contributions of this study will be to demonstrate the centrality of questions about which “parts” of the body are resurrected.

47 King, Hippocrates' Woman, 11.

48 Soranus, Gyn. 3.1.

49 Soranus, Gyn. 3.5.

22 The resurrected body as articulated by the early Christian writers discussed in this dissertation maintained the idea that male and female bodies were morphologically distinct. What would it mean for early Christians to insist upon the perdurance of sexual difference rooted in morphology, but not in reproduction, relative heat, relative dryness, or menstruation? The resurrected body disarticulates these hierarchical discourses of sexual difference from morphological difference by imagining a resurrected body that is free from the fluctuations of the flesh, the very fluctuations that had to be medically and philosophically guarded and regulated in order to maintain maleness or femaleness. If resurrected bodies were no longer subject to or governed by the logic of the humors and reproduction, with their corresponding attentiveness to diet and training, were they also separated from the hierarchical operation of these discourses in the production of sexual difference?

It must be noted that the “intention” of these Christian writers was not to propose a new theory of sexual difference, though intentionality cannot be the standard for determining the implications of their descriptions of the resurrection.

If they thought that sexual hierarchies would perdure on some other basis than what the medical writers had imagined, they never said so. Indeed, their explicit interests pointed in other directions entirely. As we will see, they insisted on morphological continuity between resurrected and mortal bodies for a variety of other reasons. Some insisted that there must be continuity so that the resurrected body can properly model sexual renunciation. Others saw the morphological continuity as the foundation for proper judgment, insisting that all the “parts”

23 needed to receive the punishment and reward they are due based on their works.

Still others insisted on this continuity as a matter of identity, insisting that one’s changing self in this life is nevertheless modeled on a more perfect form that dwells within. For others, the continuity of the flesh between the mortal and resurrected spheres was about God’s goodness in creation. In short, their overt interests were about what kind of practices, including sexual practices Christians should adopt, about how justice would be effectuated, about continuity in identity between this life and the next, and about theology.

Bodies, Sexuality, and Sexual Difference in Early Christianity

How do these discourses about the resurrection fit into other early Christian discourses about sexual difference? In addition to this broader Greco-Roman set of discourse linking sexual difference and sexuality, recent scholarly trends about early

Christianity have suggested that the primary means of thinking about sexual difference in this period relates to a conception of primal or eschatological androgyny.50 Much of this reading of early Christian history is rooted in Gal 3:28:

“there is no male and female in Christ.” In this view, when “there is no male and female” there is a return to the “primal androgyne,” often identified with the human in Gen 1:22 before the division of the sexes. In this view, before Adam’s “rib” or

“side” was separated from him, the protological human being was both male and female.

50 See for instance, Daniel Boyarin, A Radical Jew: Paul and the Politics of Identity, Contraversions; 1 (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1994), Dale B. Martin, Sex and the Single Savior: Gender and Sexuality in Biblical Interpretation, 1st ed. (Louisville, Ky.: Westminster John Knox Press, 2006).

24 While some have suggested that this view then implies equality between the sexes, others note that the term “androgyne” is a bit of a misnomer. In one of the classical texts on this topic, Jesus says to Mary “I will make her male” so that she may be given access to salvation.51 In another example, Perpetua transforms into a man in order to engage in a spiritual battle. Some ancient Christians read Gal 3:28 as the erasure of sexual difference and the elimination of sexuality and desire. But, as Dale Martin notes, “In [the one-sex] system, any change that would be construed as salvific must be understood as a movement higher on the spectral hierarchy.”52 In this view, it is a misnomer to describe such a body as an androgyne, because it actually entails leaving behind the feminine. Such a view challenges the influential model of “androgyny” laid out by Wayne Meeks wherein sexual difference was superseded by the combination of male and female.53 The model for the

“androgyne” is always already male, and the human being that is neither male nor female is really just not female.

The appeal to the model of the androgyne as the way that early Christians thought about sexual difference falls short as someplace where we might locate a sense of gender “equality” in antiquity. Daniel Boyarin has argued,

We thus see that from Philo and Paul through late antiquity gender parity is founded on a dualist metaphysics and anthropology, in which freedom and equality are for pre-gendered, pre-social, disembodied souls, and is predicated on a devaluing and disavowing of the body, usually, but not necessarily, combined with a representation of the body itself as female. On my reading

51 Gospel of Thomas. 114

52 Martin, Sex and the Single Savior, 84.

53 Wayne A. Meeks, "The Image of the Androgyne: Some Uses of a Symbol in Earliest Christianity," History of Religions 13 (1974).

25 then, Christian imaginings of gender bending/blending do not really comprehend a ‘destabilization of gender identity.’ Rather, insofar as they are completely immured in the dualism of the flesh and the spirit, they represent no change whatever in the status of gender.54

Boyarin here reasserts claims that Christianity imagines a hierarchy between male and female because it is rooted in the flesh/spirit. In this sense one must concede

Boyarin’s point, though it begs the question of why we should privilege the flesh/spirit dichotomy as if it were the only way, or even the dominant way for thinking about sexual difference. While Boyarin’s critique is certainly valid, and serves as a caution against over-exuberant appropriations of authoritative religious texts in the service of contemporary political concerns for fear of importing other aspects that work against those goals, it is also clear that such appropriation may do certain kinds of work, even while acknowledging its limits. Elizabeth Castelli argues that such examples indicate the “destabalization of gender identity in the history of a tradition usually seen to cast gender in fairly fixed and dualistic terms.”55

Similarly Dale Martin suggests, “once we destabilize the duality, all sorts of new ways of being human, not just two and not just combinations of two, may be invented. The gender made possible by the new creation in Christ opens as yet unknowable ways of gendering human experience.”56

Nearly as disruptive to the manufacturing of male and female subjects as androgyny, however, was the Christian advocacy of sexual continence. How could

54 Boyarin, Radical Jew, 198-99.

55 Elizabeth A. Castelli, "’I Will Make Mary Male’: Pieties of the Body and Gender Transformation of Christian Women in Late Antiquity.," in Body Guards: The Cultural Politics of Gender Ambiguity., ed. Julia Epstein and Kristina Straub (New York: Routledge, 1991), 47.

56 Martin, Sex and the Single Savior, 89.

26 social order be preserved without active and passive partners to symbolize the hierarchies between males and females, free and slave, old and young? Such blurred bodies were cultivated through ascetic practice. Later, John Chrysostom would teach about the abbess Olympias, “Don’t say ‘woman’ but ‘what a man!’ because this is a man, despite her physical appearance.”57

The blurring of differences between males and females was an important part of the early ascetic movements developing in the late third and early fourth centuries. Teresa Shaw argues that fourth-century Christian ascetic texts drew upon second-century medical theory to validate virginity. Here too there is an effort to restore a primal, androgynous purity, though one that is still marked as male. She argues that early Christians imagined, “the physical effects of fasting—including dryness, thinness, withered breasts, and the cessation of menstruation—as an obliteration of ‘female’ nature, a concrete realization of the return to paradise, and a reversal of the power of procreation and death. At the same time, the female body remains essentially female, both by its continuing sexual danger to men and in its eroticized relationship with Christ the bridegroom.”58 Shaw focuses on modes of sexual difference emphasized in ascetic texts that eliminate procreation as a means to achieving maleness. She emphasizes, “the gender category of ‘female,’ in both medicine and theology, is defined in large part by sexuality, fertility, and

57 Palladius, Dialogus de vita S. Ioannis Chrysostomi, XVI. (PG 47, 56). Translation from Castelli, "’I Will Make Mary Male’," 45.

58 Teresa M. Shaw, The Burden of the Flesh: Fasting and Sexuality in Early Christianity (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1998), 25.

27 procreation.”59 Sexuality here is understood as the primary marker of sexual difference, and the elimination of sexuality brings out the elimination of difference.

Others have disagreed with this chronology, suggesting that there was a shift from thinking about a return to a non-sexed nature to a validation of two separate sexes. Susanna Elm argues that, “the symbiosis of male and female ascetics was the rule rather than the exception at the outset of the ascetic movement during the late third and early fourth century, and this symbiosis continued in various forms throughout the fourth century, though in an increasingly embattled position.”60 She traces this increasing emphasis on two separate “genders” in the fourth century to the changing cosmology of Nicene orthodoxy which separated the creator from creation. This was a radical break from Origenistic tendencies that portrayed “the body and its gender as a passing stage.”61 Elm explains, “the expanding duality between creation and creator thus led to a heightened emphasis on the physical body as the means of salvation, which in turn intensified the emphasis on gender.”62

She provocatively suggests that, “asceticism began as a method for men and women to transcend, as virgins of God, the limitations of humanity in relation to the divine.

It slowly changed into a way for men as men and for women as women to symbolize the power of the Church to surpass human weakness.”63 This argument suggests

59 Shaw, The Burden of the Flesh, 245.

60 Susanna Elm, Virgins of God: The Making of Asceticism in Late Antiquity, Oxford Classical Monographs (Oxford ; New York: Oxford University Press, 1994), 378.

61 Elm, Virgins of God, 381.

62 Elm, Virgins of God, 380.

63 Elm, Virgins of God, 384.

28 that earlier views that women and men transcended gender (an androgyne model) by means of asceticism belongs to the second and third centuries, while emphasis on two “genders” in Christianity belongs to the fourth century.

This dissertation will depart from these studies in important ways. I will suggest that ascetic impulses are a crucial component in thinking about Christian imaginings of sexual difference in the second century, and these included thinking about sexual difference in ways that did not appeal to primal androgyny. The second-century texts about the resurrection do not imagine a return to a primal androgynous origin, but rather tried to think about two different sexes at the level of morphology, wherein “men were men and women were women.” At the same time, resurrected bodies also drew on the same ideals of ascetic movements with respect to sexuality and reproduction. These bodies pointed to the kinds of dual trends that

Shaw and Elm identify with respect to the “obliteration” of female difference through the cessation of reproduction, as well as the attempted insistence on the continued importance of male and female bodily difference. Such a conclusion challenges a simple chronology of development of Christian ideas about sexual difference, suggesting a multiplicity of competing ideas mobilized in different ways.

We shall see that at least two of these, reproduction and sexual practices, are invoked at an early stage as elements of sexual difference that will be done away with in the resurrected body, a body that nevertheless retains its morphological

“parts.”

This dissertation will explore how early Christian discourses about sexuality and sexual difference complicate other ancient discourses on these topics. These

29 texts challenge the idea of a stable Christian sexual morality and a notion of a universally fixed division of the sexes. The constitutive instability of the relationship between sexuality and sexual difference poses a set of problems with which these early Christian authors grappled.

Chapter Outline

In addition to investigating ways for understanding how sexual difference was done in antiquity and early Christianity, this disseration will also consider the multiplicity of views within early Christianity itself. How do the variety of views about the resurrection treated here correspond to the categories of “orthodoxy” and

“heresy”? Are these categories sufficient to resolve the wide range of views on this topic? These texts, treated individually in the following chapters, lay out some of the multiple ways in which early Christians sought to explain the nature of the human body by means of the teaching of the resurrected body.

The particular texts treated in this dissertation form a useful collection to evaluate questions concerning sexuality, sexual difference, in early Christianity because they share the same late second-century context in the debates about the resurrection. They represent all of the surviving treatises on the resurrection from this period. Later authors like Clement of Alexandria and Tertullian, for instance, already belong to a later period of thinking about the resurrection, indebted in part to the texts and authors featured here. The subject of the following chapters is the similarities and differences between these late second-century texts in the ways in which they treat sexuality and sexual difference in their discourse on the resurrection.

30 Chapter two discusses Ps. Justin Martyr, who was engaged in a dispute with another set of Christians who denied the resurrection of the flesh, specifically because such a resurrection entailed the resurrection of the genitals. As evidence, these rival Christians pointed to Jesus’ saying that “in the resurrection there shall be neither marrying nor giving in marriage” (Mark 12:18-23, and par.). Ps. Justin argues in favor of the resurrection of the flesh, including the genitals, but insists that these “parts” will be free from sexual desires. He points to the resurrected flesh, including the genitals, as the model proving that it is possible to live a virginal life.

He defends morphological sexual difference as a key aspect to validating virginity.

Chapter three turns to the Epistle to Rheginos, usually called the Treatise on the Resurrection. I prefer to former title to make it clear which of the many treatises on the resurrection I mean. The Epistle to Rheginos also encourages its audience to emulate the resurrected body in its bodily practices. This text does not settle on the precise substance of the resurrected body other than to note that the “invisible members” are raised while the “visible members” are left in the earth. Notably, this text does not indulge in the condemnations of the sexual propensities of the flesh.

Instead, this text argues for the unsuitability of the flesh for the resurrection on the basis of its ability to grow old and to degenerate. As such, this text throws into relief the negative evaluation of sexual desires and practices of the defenders of the resurrection of the flesh, who have defined the flesh in such a way as to exclude sexuality as a necessary part of existence in the flesh.

Chapter four examines De Resurrectione of Athenagoras, whose defense of the resurrection of the body contains an argument for how the resurrection allows

31 believers to more effectively cultivate virtue. Athenagoras argues that only through a concept of the human as both body and soul can one develop virtue, including sexual ethics, since the soul by itself lacks sexual differentiation and the ability to sin. Though Athenagoras agrees with Ps. Justin that there will be no sexual relations or desires in the resurrection, and that the resurrected body provides a model and incentive for proper behavior, he explicitly allows for procreative sex during this mortal life. This chapter explores the tension between the idealized resurrected body, which lacks desire, and the permissibility of sexual intercourse for procreation. Athenagoras resolves this tension in some ways by imagining two different kinds of flesh, one that is more permanent, and another that is changeable.

The changeable flesh will not be resurrected. However, he too insists on morphological sexual difference as the only way to keep the commandments in eternity.

In chapter five, I will argue that Irenaeus, bishop of Lyons, shares a view similar to Athenagoras’ with regard to sexual desire as permissible for procreation in this life. Irenaeus devotes considerable attention to the resurrection of the flesh, especially in the fifth book of Against the Heresies. His defense of the resurrection of the flesh grapples with Paul’s assertion that “flesh and blood shall not inherit the

Kingdom of God” (1 Cor 15:50). Irenaeus argues the quality of the flesh, namely sexual desire, is what Paul refers to, not the substance of the flesh. His solution to this problem is intimately bound up with his assessment of sexual desires. He too holds up virginity, at both the beginning of creation and at the end in the resurrection, as the ideal. Yet, his evaluation of the permissibility of procreative sex

32 follows a temporal schema of recapitulation in the salvation drama, where humanity starts off as virgins in the garden, procreates in adulthood, and returns again to virginity in later maturity in the resurrection. While he seeks to imagine the realm of the resurrection as free from sexuality, Irenaeus introduces sexuality back into this realm in unexpected ways.

These writings on the resurrection aimed at addressing a set of interrelated and overlapping questions and goals. First, they sought to define what was meant by the resurrection, especially with respect to what degree of continuity existed between the mortal self and the resurrected self. In doing so, they specified what substances, desires, dispositions, and practices would persist in resurrected bodies, and what would not. Second, they sought to underscore the importance of having a correct view about the resurrection because of the truth it taught about the self. As these writers wrangled over what kinds of bodies would persist both morphologically and substantively, they confronted questions about the nature of sexual difference and sexuality. The resurrected body was mobilized to tell the truth about the self, especially the sexual self. By examining the resurrected body’s characteristics, one can diagnose what is most important about the mortal body.

Finally, I will consider how an examination of the resurrection debates in this period leads to a retelling of Christian history that is no longer in the service of theological investments between orthodox and heretical groups. While one cannot deny that significant differences exist between individual thinkers and likely even groups of Christians, the effects of the heresiological classifications of ancient

Christians have distorted both the full extent of the diverse thinking among

33 “orthodox” texts, and obscured similarities in outlook and approach with “heretical” texts. This project reads Ps. Justin, the Epistle to Rheginos, Athenagoras, Irenaeus, and the shadowy voices of their “opponents” in order to show the multiplicity of thinking about the resurrection in the second-century debates over the resurrected body.

34

2. “Like Angels:” Ps. Justin Martyr, De Resurrectione

Introduction

Surviving manuscripts from the tenth and twelfth centuries attribute De

Resurrectione (DR) directly to Justin Martyr, the mid-second century Christian apologist and philosopher, yet the precise identity of the author of this text is unknown.1 There are certain similarities with the known writings of Justin, which may explain the attribution, but at the same time, there are some important differences. In order to account for both the similarities and differences, the best explanation is that the author was a follower of Justin who wrote the text in the decades following Justin’s death.2 For the purpose of this study, the precise

1 The critical editions of Holl and D’Anna have been based on four excerpts from the Sacra Parallela of John of Damascus: Parisinus Coisliniauns 276 (10th-11th c.); Hierosolymitanus Sancti Sepulcri 15 (11th c.); Berolinensis gr. 46 (aka Rupefucaldinus 12th c.); and a short citation of DR 7.2-6 in Vaticanus Graecus 1553 (10th c.). Karl Holl, Fragmente Vornicänischer Kirchenväter Aus Den Sacra Parallela, Texte Und Untersuchungen Zur Geschichte Der Altchristlichen Literatur ; Der Ganzen Reihe Bd. 20, Heft 2 = N.F., 5. Bd., Heft 2 (Leipzig: J.C. Hinrichs, 1899), 36-49. And Alberto D'Anna, Sulla Resurrezione: Discorso Cristiano Del Ii Secolo, 1. ed., Letteratura Cristiana Antica. Testi (Brescia: Morcelliana, 2001).. Heimgartner’s critical edition has the advantage of incorporating a number of other manuscripts, including newly discovered excerpts. Heimgartner discovered another text fragment of DR 7.10 in “Against Those Who Say That the Soul Exists Apart From the Human Body” found in Codex Vatopedi 236. Martin Heimgartner, Pseudojustin: Über Die Auferstehung: Text Und Studie, Patristische Texte Und Studien, Bd. 54 (Berlin ; New York: De Gruyter, 2001), 40-41. For a list of the many manuscripts used in Heimgartner’s critical edition, as well as his reconstruction of the textual archetypes, see Heimgartner, Pseudojustin, 101-02. Heimgartner’s numbering system is used for all citations of Ps. Justin here.

2 A few scholars attribute the DR to Justin Martyr himself. Zahn and Prigent argue that it belongs to Justin on the basis of both linguistic and doctrinal grounds. Pierre Prigent, Justin Et L'ancien Testament: L'argumentation Scripturaire Du Traité De Justin Contre Toutes Les Hérésies Comme Source Principale Du Dialogue Avec Tryphon Et De La Première Apologie, Études Bibliques (Paris: Librairie Lecoffre, 1964), 50-56, Theodor Zahn, "Studien Zu Justinus Martyr," ZKG 8 (1886): 20-37. Pouderon also suggest that DR is engaging the same heresiological opponents as Justin, which might indicate its authorship. Bernard Pouderon, "Le Contexte Polémique Du De Resurrectione Attribué À Justin: Destinataires Et Adversaries," Studia Patristica 31 (1997).

35 authorial attribution is less relevant than the dating of the text (though these are not unrelated projects). There seems to be a consensus that the DR dates to sometime around the third quarter of the second century.3

As for the content of this text, we shall see that Ps. Justin argues for the resurrection of the flesh (τῆς σαρκὸς ἀνάστασιν) with all of its “parts,” specifically including the genitals, against some Christians who imagined a resurrection from the flesh, explicitly without the genitals. While all sides agreed that the resurrection

Other scholars have rejected Justinian authorship. Adolf von Harnack, Die Überlieferung Der Griechischen Apologeten Des Zweiten Jahrhunderts in Der Alten Kirche Und Im Mittelalter, Texte Und Untersuchungen Zur Geschichte Der Altchristlichen Literatur ; 1. Bd., Heft 1 U. 2 (Leipzig: J.C. Hinrichs, 1882), 163-64, Adolf von Harnack and Erwin Preuschen, Geschichte Der Altchristlichen Litteratur Bis Eusebius (Leipzig,: J. C. Hinrichs, 1893), 508-10, Aimé Puech, Les Apologistes Grecs Du Iie Siècle De Notre Ère (Paris: Hachette, 1912), 267-75, 339-42, F. R. Montgomery Hitchcock, "Loofs' Asiatic Source (Iqa) and the Ps-Justin De Resurrectione," ZNW 37 (1936), Walter Delius, "Ps. Justin: 'Über Die Auferstehung'," ThViat 4 (1952), Horacio Lona, "Ps. Justins "De Resurrectione" Und Die Altchristliche Auferstehungsapologetik," Salesianum 51 (1989): 748-56. These scholars cite differences in epistemology, anthropology, Christology, asceticism, terminology, and Greek style. These arguments, however, are often based on exaggerations of minor differences. D'Anna, Sulla Resurrezione, 92-100.

D’Anna explains this situation by charting a middle way, arguing that the author of DR was a student or close collaborator of Justin. (D'Anna, Sulla Resurrezione, 285-87.) He attempts to confirm this thesis by sketching out the available opponents in second-century Rome and comparing them to those in DR. In a more bold identification, Heimgartner argues that the true author of the DR is actually Athenagoras. (Heimgartner, Pseudojustin, 203-32.)

3 The attempts to date the text to the late-second century are aided by studies investigating the relationship between DR and other early Christian texts, specifically unattributed citations in Irenaeus, Tertullian, Athenagoras, and others. D’Anna lays out a series of parallels between Irenaeus, AH, V and Ps. Justin to demonstrate remarkable similarities. (D'Anna, Sulla Resurrezione, 100-06.) Harnack and Zahn agree that Irenaeus used Ps. Justin as a source. Zahn, "Studien Zu Justinus Martyr," 31-34, Harnack, Die Überlieferung Der Griechischen Apologeten Des Zweiten Jahrhunderts in Der Alten Kirche Und Im Mittelalter, 163.. Heimgartner agrees that “Die Annahme, Irenaus habe unseren Traktat gekannt, ist jedoch die einfachere.” Heimgartner, Pseudojustin, 82.. Meanwhile, Hitchcock believes that Ps. Justin is dependent on Irenaeus. Hitchcock, "Loofs' Asiatic Source (Iqa) and the Ps-Justin De Resurrectione.". Loofs believes that they both depend on a common source, which explains why there are no shared phrases, only shared ideas. Friedrich Loofs, Theophilus Von Antiochien Adversus Marcionem Und Die Anderen Theologischen Quellen Bei Irenaeus, Texte Und Untersuchungen Zur Geschichte Der Altchristlichen Literatur, Bd. 46, Heft 2 (4. Reihe, Bd. 1, Hft. 2) (Leipzig,: J.C. Hinrichs, 1930), 211-32. Prigent believes that Irenaeus is directly dependent upon DR. Prigent, Justin Et L'ancien Testament: L'argumentation Scripturaire Du Traité De Justin Contre Toutes Les Hérésies Comme Source Principale Du Dialogue Avec Tryphon Et De La Première Apologie, 43-50, 65-68.. Lona argues, however, that Irenaeus and Ps. Justin share a certain cultural context that explains the parallels and analogous arguments between the two authors.

36 would occur, they disagreed about the nature of the resurrection. In this dispute, rival Christian teachings about the resurrection posit different bodies, ones in which sexual difference, sexual desires, and reproduction were central points of debate.

Sexual difference is not assumed to be a natural, biological given, but something that must be argued for as something that is essential to one’s identity in resurrected form. Every level of defining the resurrected body, including the substance, the morphology, and the physiology or functions of the body, was in dispute. We shall see that Ps. Justin’s defense of the resurrection of the genitals comes not in the service of a dyadic male-female binary as self evident, but rather another alternative entirely of dimorphic bodies which lack (or are free from) reproductive capacities.

The Sexualized Nature of the Flesh

Ps. Justin characterizes his opponents as having a series of objections and difficulties with the nature of the flesh that led them to oppose the resurrection of the flesh.

Φασὶν οἱ τὰ χείρονα λέγοντες οὐκ εἶναι τῆς σαρκὸς ἀνάστασιν. Ἀδύνατον γὰρ εἶναι τὴν φθειρομένην καὶ διαλυομένην ταύτην συναχθῆναι εἰς τὸ αὐτό. Πρὸς δὲ τὸ ἀδύνατον καὶ ἀσύμφορόν φασιν ὑπάρχειν τὴν ταύτης σωτηρίαν, καὶ κακίζουσιν αὐτὴν τὰ ἐλαττώματα προφέροντες, καὶ αὐτὴν μόνην τῶν ἁμαρτημάτων αἰτίαν ἀποφαίνονται, ὥστε, εἰ μέλλει, φασί, σὰρξ ἀνίστασθαι, καὶ τὰ ἐλαττώματα συναναστήσεται….Εἰσὶ δέ τινες οἳ λέγουσι καὶ αὐτὸν τὸν Ἰησοῦν πνευματικὸν μόνον παρεῖναι, μηκέτι ἐν σαρκί, φαντασίαν δὲ σαρκὸς παρεσχηκέναι, πειρώμενοι καὶ αὐτοὶ ἀποστερεῖν τῆς ἐπαγγελίας τὴν σάρκα. Πρῶτον μὲν τὰ ὑπ’ αὐτῶν δοκοῦντα ἄπορα φαίνεσθαι λύσομεν· εἶθ’ οὕτως ἑξῆς ἐπάξομεν τὸν ἀποδεικνύντα λόγον περὶ τῆς σαρκὸς ὡς ἔχει σωτηρίαν.

The ones holding worse arguments say that there is no resurrection of the flesh. For it is impossible (ἀδύνατον) that this corrupted and destroyed [flesh] be put together in the same way. Besides being impossible, they say that the salvation [for the flesh] is unsuitable, and they mistreat it presenting its defects (τὰ ἐλαττώματα), and they declare it alone to be the cause of sins,

37 so that, if the flesh is to be raised, the defects will also be raised….And others say also that Jesus himself appeared only spiritually (πνευματικὸν), no longer in the flesh, but presenting an illusion (φαντασίαν) of flesh, trying themselves even to rob the flesh of the promise. First we will refute the difficulties (ἄπορα) that appear to be shown by them, then following that, we will adduce the proving argument about the flesh, how it has salvation. 4

Here, Ps. Justin summarizes the three objections that function as a roadmap to the rest of the treatise: that the resurrection is impossible, unsuitable, they try to “rob the flesh of the promise,” and that Jesus himself rose only spiritually. Yet before Ps.

Justin answers each of these objections, he deals with the “difficulties” (ἄπορα) concerning the “defects” of the flesh.5 As we shall see, the nature of these

“difficulties” relates to the “unsuitability” (ἀσύμφορόν) of a body that might rise with all of its parts, including the sexual organs.

As he begins to explain his understanding of this opposing view, certain questions about the nature of the flesh come to the fore. Was the flesh inherently sensual, irredeemably bound up with inordinate desires? Ps. Justin describes the position that he opposes as one that imagines that fleshly bodies are necessarily defective.

Ἑξῆς δὲ λεκτέον πρὸς τοὺς ἀτιμάζοντας τὴν σάρκα καὶ φάσκοντας μὴ ἀξίαν εἶναι τῆς ἀναστάσεως μηδὲ τῆς ἐπουρανίου πολιτείας· ὅτι πρῶτον αὐτῆς ἐστιν ἡ οὐσία γῆ, μετέπειτα δὲ καὶ μεστὴ γέγονε πάσης ἁμαρτίας, ὥστε καὶ τὴν ψυχὴν ἀναγκάσαι συναμαρτάνειν.

We must speak concerning those who dishonor the flesh and say that it is not worthy (ἀξίαν) of the resurrection, nor of heavenly citizenship, because first,

4 Ps. Justin, DR 2.1-4, 14-15

5 D’Anna suggests that there are actually two distinct “difficulties” here. D'Anna, Sulla Resurrezione, 162- 67.

38 the earth is its essence, and next that it is full of all sin, so that it necessitates (ἀναγκάσαι) the soul to sin along with it.6

Here, Ps. Justin suggests that the Christians “who dishonor the flesh” believe that the flesh is “full of all sin” and necessitates that the soul sin along with it. Both of these features overlap to constitute the “defects” of the flesh, most importantly that it is

“alone the cause of sins.”7 As a prime example, they say that the flesh is necessarily sinful. From this perspective, the flesh presents a problem for the resurrected body because its inherent sinfulness makes it unsuitable for the sinless immortality of the afterlife.

What is the alternative view to the resurrection of the flesh? According to Ps.

Justin, the opponents suggest that the resurrection is “spiritual.”8 Invoking Jesus’ resurrection, this body is only an “illusion of the flesh.”9 In this interpretation of the resurrection, the genitals are explicitly absent. They draw on a saying of Jesus concerning the resurrection to prove their point.

Εἰ δὲ πάντα τὰ μέρη καὶ τὰ μόρια ἕξει δῆλονότι· ταῦτα λέγειν ὑπάρχειν μετὰ τὴν ἐκ νεκρῶν ἀνάστασιν πῶς οὐκ ἄτοπον, τοῦ σωτῆρος εἰρηκότος· Οὔτε γαμοῦσιν οὔτε γαμίσκονται, ἀλλ’ ἔσονται ὡς ἄγγελοι ἐν τῷ οὐρανῷ; Οἱ δὲ ἄγγελοι, φασίν, οὔτε σάρκα ἔχουσιν οὔτε ἐσθίουσιν οὔτε συνουσιάζουσιν· ὥστε οὐδὲ σαρκικὴ ἀνάστασις γενήσεται.

6 Ps. Justin, DR 7.1

7 Ps. Justin, DR 2.3. καὶ κακίζουσιν αὐτὴν τὰ ἐλαττώµατα προφέροντες, καὶ αὐτὴν µόνην τῶν ἁµαρτηµάτων αἰτίαν ἀποφαίνονται, ὥστε, εἰ µέλλει, φασί, σὰρξ ἀνίστασθαι, καὶ τὰ ἐλαττώµατα συναναστήσεται.

“They mistreat [the flesh] presenting its defects (τὰ ἐλαττώµατα), and they declare it alone to be the cause of sins, so that, if the flesh is to be raised, the defects (τὰ ἐλαττώµατα) will also be raised.”

8 Ps. Justin, DR 2.14; cf. 9.3. πνευµατικὸν.

9 Ps. Justin, DR 2.14. φαντασίαν δὲ σαρκὸς.

39 [They say,] “Clearly if the body will have all the parts and portions, how is it not absurd to say these things exist after the resurrection from the dead, since the Savior said: They will neither marry nor will be given in marriage, but they will be as angels in heaven.10 They say, “The angels do not have flesh, nor do they eat, nor do they have sexual intercourse (συνουσιάζουσιν). Just so, neither will there be a fleshly resurrection.”11

Here, the resurrected body that possesses all the “parts and portions” (τὰ μέρη καὶ

τὰ μόρια) is seen as “absurd” (ἄτοπον), and contrary to Jesus’ teaching that describes the actions of the resurrected body (not marrying, eating,12 or having sexual intercourse), as well as the nature of the resurrected body as angels (ὣς

ἂγγελοι). The problem with the “parts” is central, so that Ps. Justin reports that the objection to the rising of the “whole” person is that it would entail the rising of the genitals as well.

Καὶ σοφίσματα πλέκουσι τοιαῦτα· Εἰ ἡ σὰρξ ἀνίσταται, ἤτοι ὁλόκληρος ἀναστήσεται καὶ πάντα τὰ μόρια ἔχουσα ἢ ἀτελής.

And they weave such kind of sophistical inventions, “If the flesh rises, it will rise whole (ὁλόκληρος) and possessing all its parts (τὰ μόρια), or imperfect (ἀτελής).”13

10 cf. Mt 22:30/Mk 12:25. In both cases these texts use the present tense of εἰµί while Ps. Justin uses the future tense. Further, the rarely attested verb γαµάζω appears as γαµίζονται in the gospels, but is rendered γαµίσκονται in Ps. Justin. These minor differences do not entail a great change in meaning, though the future tense of εἰµί in Ps. Justin does seem to strengthen the future aspect of the angelic body.

11 Ps. Justin, DR 2.8-12

12 Yet the notion of not eating presents a problem for both views. When Ps. Justin turns to the life and resurrection of Christ, he notes that Christ ate with his disciples after the resurrection. While he aims to show that “it is not impossible for the flesh to ascend into heaven,”12 the fact that Christ could eat with them seems to undermine the argument that resurrected beings, like angels, will not eat or have sex because there is no need. Ps. Justin does not note the failure of the argument on this point.

13 Ps. Justin, DR 2.5

40 The term “parts” functions metonymically here to refer to the genitals, but this notion of the centrality of the “parts” is central to the other thinkers discussed in later chapters as well. Ps. Justin suggests that his opponents say that the resurrected body will not have “parts and portions,” and in this way would lack not only sexuality, but also any morphological markers of sexual difference. In this view, to be “like angels” is to transcend sexual differences marked on bodies.

The connection between the lack of sexuality and the elimination of differences between males and females was one made by other early Christians too.

There are key differences between Ps. Justin’s opponents and the Testimony of

Truth, such as a polemic against bodily martyrdom as opposed to a lived

“martyrdom of truth” (ⲧ̣ⲙⲁⲣⲧⲩⲣⲓⲁ ⲙ̣̄ⲙⲉ),14 a rejection of physical baptism,15 and well as a denunciation of the God in the Jewish scriptures.16 Yet, Ps. Justin’s depiction of his opponents shares some similarities to TestTruth on the issue of sexuality and sexual difference. We see that the author of the TestTruth offered a similar view of the condemnation of the genitals as Ps. Justin’s rivals.

ⲛⲉⲧ⳿ϫⲓ [ⲇⲉ ⲙ̄ⲙ]ⲟϥ ⲉⲣⲟⲟⲩ ϩⲛ̄ ⲟⲩⲙⲛ̣̄ⲧ⳿ [ⲁⲧ⳿ⲥⲟⲟ]ⲩⲛ ⲉⲛϩⲏⲇⲟⲛⲏ ⲉ̣ⲧ⳿ϫⲁϩⲙ̄ ϫⲣⲟⲉⲓⲧ⳿ ⲉⲣⲟ[ⲟⲩ· ⲛⲉ] ⲧ̣ⲙ̄ⲙⲁⲩ ⲛⲉϣⲁⲩϫⲟ[ⲟⲥ ϫⲉ ⲁ] ⲡⲛⲟⲩⲧⲉ ⲧⲁⲙⲓⲉ ϩⲉ̣[ⲛⲙⲉⲗⲟⲥ] ⲉⲩⲭⲣⲓⲁ ⲛⲁⲛ ⲉⲧⲣⲉⲛⲁ̣[ϣⲁⲓ ϩⲛ̄] ⲟⲩϫⲱϩⲙ̄’ ϫⲉⲕⲁ̣ⲁ[ⲥ ⲉⲛⲛⲁⲣ̄] ⲁⲡⲟⲗⲁⲩⲉ ⲙ̣̄ⲙ̣[ⲟⲛ ⲟⲩⲁⲁⲛ·] ⲁⲩⲱ ⲥⲉⲧⲣⲉⲡ̣ⲛⲟ̣[ⲩⲧⲉ] ⲣ̄ ⲙⲉⲧⲟⲭⲟⲥ ⲛⲙ̣̄ⲙ̣ⲁ̣ⲩ [ⲛ̄ϩⲉⲛ] ϩⲃⲏⲩⲉ ⲛ̄ⲧⲉⲓ̣̈[ⲙⲓⲛⲉ· ⲁⲩⲱ] ⲛ̄ⲥⲉⲧⲁϫⲣⲏ̣[ⲟⲩ ⲁⲛ ϩⲓϫⲙ̄] ⲡⲕⲁϩ· ⲟⲩ[ⲇⲉ ⲛ̄ⲥⲉⲛⲁⲡⲱϩ ⲁⲛ] ⲉⲧⲡⲉ·

[But] as for those who receive him to themselves with [ignorance], the pleasures that defile prevail over them. It is [these] people who say, “God created the “parts” (ϩⲉ̣[ⲛⲙⲉⲗⲟⲥ]) for our use, for us to [grow in] defilement in order to enjoy [ourselves].” So they cause God to participate with them [in]

14 TestTruth, NHC IX, 3,45,1

15 TestTruth, NHC IX, 3,69,7-28

16 TestTruth, NHC IX, 3,45-49

41 actions of this [kind]. They are [not] steady [upon] earth, [nor will they reach] heaven.17

The “parts,”18 here also referring to the genitals, are seen as opposed to the will of

God, and those who insist on the notion that God created them for pleasure is an insult to God because it implicates God in these sins. Any defense of the use of the genitals is a recipe for condemnation. Both Ps. Justin’s opponents and the TestTruth suggest that one must either reject the genitals entirely as part of a perfected state, or implicate God in the defilement that attends their desires and acts.

Like Ps. Justin’s opponents, the TestTruth also idealizes the angelic as without somatic sexual difference. The author also advocates a strict renunciation of sexual intercourse and desire as the path to the angelic.

[ⲡⲉⲧ⳿]ϣ̣ⲟⲟⲡ⳿ ⲇⲉ [ⲛ̄ⲉⲓ]ⲱⲧ⳿ ⲙ̄ⲡⲁ[ⲙⲙⲱⲛⲁⲥ] ⲡⲁⲓ̈ ⲉϥ[ϣⲟⲟⲡ⳿] ⲛ̄ⲉⲓϣⲧ⳿ ⲛ̄ⲧⲥⲩ̣[ⲛⲟⲩ]ⲥⲓⲁ· ⲡⲉⲧ̣[ⲉⲩ]ⲛ̣̄ ϣϭⲟⲙ ⲇⲉ ⲙ̄ⲙ̣ⲟ[ϥ ⲉⲣ̄ⲁⲡⲟ]ⲧⲁⲥⲥⲉ ⲛⲁⲩ ϥ̣ⲟⲩⲟⲛϩ̄ ⲉⲃⲟⲗ̣ [ϫⲉ ⲟⲩⲉⲃⲟ]ⲗ ⲡⲉ ϩⲛ̄ ⲧⲅ̣[ⲉ] [ⲛ]ⲉⲁ ⲙ̄ⲡϣⲏ̣[ⲣⲉ ⲙ̄ⲡⲣⲱ]ⲙ̣ⲉ ⲉⲩⲛ̄ⲧⲁϥ̣ [ⲙ̄]ⲙ̣ⲁⲩ ⲛ̄ⲟⲩ[ϭⲟⲙ ⲉⲣ̄ⲕ]ⲁ̣ⲧⲏⲅ̣ⲟⲣⲓ ⲛⲁ̣[ⲩ] [..]. ϣ̣ⲉⲛⲉ. [….]ⲧ⳿· [ϥⲣ̄][ⲕ]ⲁⲧⲉⲭⲉ ⲇⲉ [ … [ⲙ]ⲉⲣⲟⲥ· ϩⲛ̄ ⲟⲩ[…. […] ϩⲛ̄ ⲟⲩⲕⲁϭⲓ̣ⲁ̣ [ⲁⲩⲱ ϥⲉⲓⲣ]ⲉ ⲙ̄ⲡ̣[ⲥⲁⲛ]ⲃ̣ⲟⲗ ⲛ̄ⲑⲉ ⲙ̄ⲡⲥⲁⲛ̣[ϩⲟⲩⲛ· ϥⲉⲓ]ⲛ̣ⲉ ⲛ̄ⲟ[ⲩ] [ⲁ]ⲅ⳿ⲅ̣[ⲉ]ⲗ̣ⲟⲥ̣ ⲉϥ̣[….

But he who is the father of mammon is also the father of sexual intercourse. The person who is able to renounce these things [i.e., sexual intercourse] shows [that] he belongs to the generation of the [Son of Man] and has power to accuse [him (i.e., the father of mammon and intercourse). …He is not] controlled [in these] parts ([ⲙ]ⲉⲣⲟⲥ) by…[from] wickedness, [and he makes the] outside like the [inside. He is like] an angel that……19

Unfortunately, the line is missing that explains the nature of the angelic person, but the connection between sexual renunciation and being like an angel is clear. The one who renounces sexuality is not controlled in his or her “parts” by the archon,

17 TestTruth, NHC IX, 3, 38,27-39,12.

18 There is no significant difference between µέρος, µέλος, and µόριον, all meaning “part,” “share,” and “portion.”

19 TestTruth, NHC IX, 3, 68,8-18.

42 and is like an angel.20 The idea of making the “outside like the inside” is connected to the notion of overcoming male and female sexual difference. The Gospel of

Thomas shares a similar idea about connecting the “inner” and the “outer” to questions of sexual difference: “…when you make the inner like the outer and the outer like the inner, and the upper like the lower, and when you make male and female into a single one, so that the male will not be male nor the female be female…then you will enter [the kingdom.]”21

In Ps. Justin’s description of his opponents’ view of the resurrection, we have seen that they too imagine the human being who renounces sexuality as an angel, based on the saying of Jesus. Ps. Justin understands their argument to be that the resurrection would not include the genitals because there is no need for reproduction in this sphere.

Φασὶ τοίνυν· Εἰ ὁλόκληρον ἀναστήσεται τὸ σῶμα καὶ τὰ μόρια αὐτοῦ πάντα ἕξει, ἀνάγκη δὲ καὶ τὰ ἔργα τῶν μορίων ὑπάρξαι· μήτραν μὲν κυΐσκειν, σπερματίζειν δὲ μόριον ἀνδρός, καὶ τὰ λοιπὰ δὲ ὁμοίως. Ἔστω δὲ ἐφ’ ἑνὸς πᾶς λόγος ἱστάμενος. Τούτου γὰρ ἀποδεικνυμένου ψευδοῦς οἰχήσεται πᾶς ὁ λόγος αὐτῶν.

Thus they say, “If the body will rise whole (ὁλόκληρον) and will have all of its parts (τὰ μόρια), it is necessary that the functions (τὰ ἔργα) of those parts will also exist; the womb to get pregnant, the male part to impregnate, and all

20 Earlier, this text suggests that the “Son of Man separates us from the error of the angels,” (TestTruth, NHC IX, 3, 41,2-4; cf. 29,16-18; 42,23-43,3). This seems to be an association of these angels with the characters in Gen 6:1-4 and subsequent traditions, esp. 1 Enoch 6-11. These archontic angels have a clearly negative evaluation in this text, but the comparison of the righteous person who is able to abandon sexuality and Mammon to an angel suggests that the archons are not the only angels this author has in mind. In another approval of some angels, one passage seems to reject Paul’s warning against angels brining more teachings. (Testimony of Truth, NHC IX, 3, 73,18-30)

21 Gospel of Thomas 22,4-7. Cf. Gospel of Philip NHC II, 68,4-6; 2 Clement 12.2-4. Translation from Marvin W. Meyer and Wolf-Peter Funk, eds., The Nag Hammadi Scriptures, International , 1st ed., Berliner Arbeitskreis Für Koptisch-Gnostische Schriften, Coptic Gnostic Library Project (New York: HarperOne,2007), 142-43.

43 the rest likewise.” Now, let the entire argument stand on this one thing, for when this is demonstrated to be false, their entire argument will be ruined.22

Ps. Justin stakes their entire argument for the resurrection of the flesh on the salvation of the genitals. In contrast, his opponents argue that if the genitals will be resurrected, then resurrected bodies would procreate, which is absurd in their view since they associate reproduction with sinful desire and death. For them, the

“whole” resurrected body would be raised with its parts and their teleological functions, which seems unsuitable. Just as, for instance, an eye is for seeing, and a nose for smelling, the opponents insist that the genitals are for procreating. For this reason, they do not consider the genitals to take part in the future resurrection.

Ps. Justin’s Desexualized Nature of the Flesh

Ps. Justin characterizes his opponents as rejecting the resurrection of the flesh because the flesh is problematically bound up with sexuality, including desires and reproduction. Rather than defend desires and reproduction as part of God’s created order, or as ordained for mortality, Ps. Justin actually shares his opponents’ negative views of sexuality, but not their vision of the angelic body lacking sexual difference. He consistently praises models of those who are free from desires and reproduction, such as virgins. Virgins exemplify the highest values with respect to sexuality.

Ἄλλαι καὶ μὴ στεῖραι μὲν ἐξ ἀρχῆς παρθενεύουσαι δέ κατήργησαν καὶ τὴν συνουσίαν· ἕτεραι δὲ καὶ ἀπὸ χρόνου. Καὶ τοὺς ἄρσενας δὲ τοὺς μὲν ἀπ’ ἀρχῆς παρθενεύοντας ὁρῶμεν, τοὺς δὲ ἀπὸ χρόνου, ὥστε δι’ αὐτῶν καταλύεσθαι τὸν δι’ ἐπιθυμίας ἄνομον γάμον.

22 Ps. Justin, DR 3.1-2

44 But even some who are not barren abolish sexual intercourse (συνουσίαν), being virgins from the beginning; and others from a certain time. And we see also men being virgins from the beginning, and some from a certain time; so that through them unlawful marriage is destroyed on account of desires.23

Sexual desires are so problematic for Ps. Justin that not even marriage can sanctify them. He argues that virgins have finally “destroyed” marriage. He considers virgins here as both males and females separately, as two different classes of virgins.

Marriage is simply a justification for lust and desire. Virginity is set in opposition to marriage because marriage justifies the indulgence of sexual desires in intercourse, preventing the human being from ridding itself of these wicked impulses that prevent salvation.24

Ps. Justin opposes sexual intercourse (συνουσία) not only because it justifies sexual desire, but also because of reproduction. Like marriage, reproduction is

23 Ps. Justin, DR 3.8-10.

24 Most interpreters have resisted seeing Ps. Justin reject marriage and sexual intercourse. At issue is whether Ps. Justin considers there to be a category of “lawful” marriage. In this view, marriage based on something else besides desire is therefore lawful. Scholars have frequently attempted to read this passage as an approval for certain kinds of sexual intercourse. For instance, D’Anna translates this passage: (…per mezzo di loro, è dissolto il matrimonio, empio a causa dei desideri.” [“Through them, marriage is dissolved, wicked because of desires.”] D'Anna, Sulla Resurrezione, 33.) In spite of this condemnation of marriage, he offers this explanation: “Comunque, anche nel DR il rapporto sessuale sembra un male inevitabile in questo mondo, visto che la totale abolizione di esso è chiaramente attesa solo nell’eone futuro: in questo senso sono interpretate le parole di Cristo in DR 3.[17-18].” (“However, also in the DR sexual relations seem an inevitable evil in this world, given that the total abolition of it is clearly attained only in the future aeon: the worlds of Christ are interpreted in this sense in DR 3.[17- 18].” (The reference numbers are changed to follow Heimgartner’s versification.) D'Anna, Sulla Resurrezione, 94.) Are sexual relationships an “inevitable evil” for Ps. Justin? Dods’ also translates this passage to emphasize a particular kind of marriage: “so that by their means, marriage, made unlawful through lust, is destroyed.” Again, in spite of the clear condemnation of marriage, Dods adds a clarifying note to his translation: “That is to say, their lives are a protest against marriage for any other purpose than that of begetting children.” (Alexander Roberts et al., Ante-Nicene Fathers : The Writings of the Fathers Down to A.D. 325 (Peabody: Hendrickson, 1995), 295.) This note suggests that there is nothing wrong with marriage per se, only marriages that are based on desire that extends beyond reproduction. Wartelle’s translation takes this sentiment seriously and puts it into the text itself: “si bien que par eux se trouve détruit le mariage impie fondé sur la seule concupiscence.” “So that they are destroying the unholy marriage based solely on concupiscence.” (André Wartelle, "Saint Justin, Philosophe Et Martyr: De La Résurrection. Introduction Et Traduction," Bulletin de l'Association Guillaume Budi (1993): 74.) This assertion is given entirely without warrant; how exactly can virgins’ lives be interpreted as an authorization of sexual intercourse for the purpose of reproduction?

45 implicated in the problematics of sexuality. It is just another justification for unlawful behavior. Virgins escape both desire and generation. Ps. Justin offers an example from the animal world.

Ἀλλὰ μὴν καὶ ζῶά τινα εὑρίσκομεν ἄτοκα, καίτοι μήτρας ἔχοντα, ὡς καὶ ἡμίονον, καὶ οἱ ἄρσενες δὲ οὐ γεννῶσιν ἡμίονοι· ὥστε καὶ διὰ ἀνθρώπων καὶ διὰ ἀλόγων καταργουμένην τὴν συνουσίαν καὶ πρὶν τοῦ μέλλοντος αἰῶνος ὁρᾶσθαι.

But we find that some animals do not give birth, indeed even those having wombs, as a mule; and the male mules do not beget, so that we see that sexual intercourse (συνουσία) is destroyed both through humans (i.e., virgins) and through irrational animals, even before the coming age.25

Ps. Justin looks to mules, who like virgins, do not reproduce despite possessing genitals as examples of what resurrected bodies will be like.26 For Aristotle, the mule posed a significant problem for his system as the one exception to his rules of reproduction.27 For Ps. Justin, this “exception” points to the higher rule of the eternal realm. In this realm, the mule exemplifies God’s disapproval of συνουσία.

For Ps. Justin, συνουσία signifies more than just sexual intercourse, but also reproduction itself, as the mule shows. Ps. Justin opposes marriage and reproduction because of sex, and sex because of desire. For Ps. Justin, the desiring subject is problematic in the resurrection, and so he advocates living a life of virginity, free from desire. Here again, both maleness and femaleness in virginity is reemphasized with the examples of male and female mules.

25 Ps. Jusitn. DR 3.11-12

26 Of course, though both male and female mules are sterile, they are capable of sexual relations.

27 Aristotle, On the Generation of Animals, 728b10; 726b10f; 747a20-48b30.

46 Desexualized Flesh is the Foundation for a Virginal Life

The note that virgins and mules show how sexual intercourse and reproduction are abandoned “even before the coming age” marks a crucial point in the development of Ps. Justin’s defense of the resurrection of the flesh. For Ps.

Justin, male and female virgins occupy a state between this life and the next, exemplifying the ideal body. They point to the future state of the resurrected body, a state of being without desire or reproduction. The elimination of desire does not, and should not, take place only in the resurrection. If these desires are truly

“unnecessary,” they should be eliminated even before the resurrection. Ps. Justin uses these examples and others to show how living a virginal life is possible by looking to the resurrected body, and vice versa.

While the opponents had offered the unfleshiness and asexuality of the angels as an example for what the resurrected body would be like, Ps. Justin offers an alternative interpretation of the saying of Jesus to demonstrate his point about lack of necessity of sexual desire in the flesh:

Ἅμα δὲ καὶ τὴν μέλλουσαν καταργεῖσθαι διὰ συνουσίας μῖξιν ἐν τῷ μέλλοντι αἰῶνι προεμήνυσεν, ὥς φησιν· Οἱ υἱοὶ τοῦ αἰῶνος τούτου γαμοῦσι καὶ γαμίσκονται, οἱ δὲ υἱοὶ τοῦ μέλλοντος αἰῶνος οὔτε γαμοῦσιν οὔτε γαμίσκονται, ἀλλ’ ἔσονται ὡς ἄγγελοι ἐν τῷ οὐρανῷ. Μὴ θαυμαζέτωσαν οὖν οἱ τῆς πίστεως ἐκτός, εἰ τὴν ἀπὸ τοῦ νῦν καταργουμένην ἐν τοῖς ἔργοις τούτοις σάρκα καὶ ἐν τῷ μέλλοντι αἰῶνι καταργήσει.

At the same time, [Jesus Christ] foretold in the coming age the mixing (μῖξιν) through sexual intercourse (συνουσίας) is going to be destroyed, as he said: The children belonging to this age marry and are given in marriage, yet the children belonging to the coming age neither marry nor are given in marriage, but they will be as angels in heaven. Let not those who are outside of belief

47 marvel, if the flesh abandons these functions even from now, that it will abandon them in the coming age.28

Ps. Justin’s version of the quotation differs from the version he attributes to his opponents by adding a discussion of the “children of this age” and the “children of the coming age.”29 The key distinction that he wants to make between the “children of this age” and the “children of the coming age” is that these are moral categories, not simply temporal ones. He argues that even the children belonging to the

“coming age” (i.e., virgins) have already destroyed marriage and desire. If God can enable these individuals to overcome these desires in this age, Christians should not be surprised that resurrected bodies will also be free from these desires. Ps. Justin does not explain himself here, particularly with regard to the way in which individuals will be “as angels in heaven.” This is an unfortunate weakness in his argument because the nature of the angels, or more specifically, the nature of how the resurrected are similar to angels, seems to be a key disagreement between Ps.

Justin and his opponents.

28 Ps. Justin, DR 3.17-18

29 Ps. Justin’s quotation is different from the biblical parallels. This rendering of the saying is a compilation of the different versions of Jesus’ saying on the resurrection and angels. The first clause “Οἱ υἱοὶ τοῦ αἰῶνος τούτου γαµοῦσι καὶ γαµίσκονται” comes from Luke 20:34: “οἱ υἱοὶ τοῦ αἰῶνος τούτου γαµοῦσιν καὶ γαµίσκονται,” and the second clause “οἱ δὲ υἱοὶ τοῦ µέλλοντος αἰῶνος οὔτε γαµοῦσιν οὔτε γαµίσκονται” is closely related to Luke 20:35: “οἱ δὲ καταξιωθέντες τοῦ αἰῶνος ἐκείνου τυχεῖν καὶ τῆς ἀναστάσεως τῆς ἐκ νεκρῶν οὔτε γαµοῦσιν οὔτε γαµίζονται.” The third clause “ἀλλ’ ἔσονται ὡς ἄγγελοι ἐν τῷ οὐρανῷ” breaks off from the parallel to Luke and follows the word order from the parallel in Matthew 22:30 with the singular τῷ οὐρανῷ, and Mark 12:25 with the verbal order of ἔσονται immediately before ὡς. The Lukan parallel is dramatically different, Lk 20:36: “οὐδὲ γὰρ ἀποθανεῖν ἔτι δύνανται ἰσάγγελοι γάρ εἰσιν καὶ υἱοί εἰσιν θεοῦ τῆς ἀναστάσεως υἱοὶ ὄντες.” However, all three synoptic gospels use the present tense εἰσιν instead of the future. The future tense does not appear as a variant in biblical manuscripts.

48 Ps. Justin shows how in the present age, sexual desire and intercourse are done away with, offering virgins as the primary evidence for the unproblematic possibility of the resurrection of the genitals. Through virgins, Ps. Justin explained that unlawful marriage is “destroyed,” sexual intercourse is abolished and done away with, and God has destroyed begetting by unlawful desire. The combined effect of these arguments is to show that sexuality is already set aside and that even now bodies can live in accordance with the values of the resurrection through sexual renunciation.

Ps. Justin invokes Jesus Christ’s virginal birth to emphasize in what way sex and reproduction are destroyed before the resurrection.

Καὶ ὁ κύριος δὲ ἡμῶν Ἰησοῦς ὁ Χριστὸς οὐ δι’ ἄλλο τι ἐκ παρθένου ἐγεννήθη, ἀλλ’ ἵνα καταργήσῃ γέννησιν ἐπιθυμίας ἀνόμου καὶ δείξῃ τῷ ἄρχοντι καὶ δίχα συνουσίας ἀνθρωπίνης δυνατὴν εἶναι τῷ θεῷ τὴν ἀνθρώπου πλάσιν.

And our Lord Jesus Christ was born from a virgin for no other reason except in order that he might destroy reproduction (γέννησιν) by unlawful desire (ἐπιθυμίας ἀνόμου) and that he might show the Archon that even without human intercourse, God is able to form a human.30

The virgin birth of Jesus Christ is not simply a miracle that demonstrates God’s creative power, but indicates that God sees reproduction through sexual intercourse as problematic, something to be “destroyed.”31 Implicitly citing Gen 2 here with the verb πλάσιν, God’s method of creation, which he used at the beginning and will use again in reproducing resurrected bodies, is accomplished without recourse to

30 Ps. Justin, DR 3.13

31 Cf. TestTruth NHC IX, 3,30,18-31,3; 40,2-7.

49 sexuality at all.32 Reproduction and generation for God is contrasted with that of humans. In order to be like God, one must not generate in human ways. Just as God cannot have desires associated with sexuality, so too should humans imitate this perfection.

Sexuality as Unnecessary

Not only is Jesus’ birth an example of God’s disapproval of sexuality, but also

Jesus’ life provides the model for sexual renunciation by demonstrating how unnecessary sexuality is to the flesh.

Καὶ γεννηθεὶς δὲ καὶ πολιτευσάμενος τὴν λοιπὴν τῆς σαρκὸς πολιτείαν, λέγω δὴ ἐν τροφαῖς καὶ ποτοῖς καὶ ἐνδύμασι, ταύτην δὲ τὴν διὰ συνουσίας μόνον οὐκ εἰργάσατο, ἀλλὰ τὰς τῆς σαρκὸς ἐπιθυμίας ἃς μὲν ἀναγκαίας ὑπάρχειν κατεδέξατο, ἃς δὲ μὴ ἀναγκαίας οὐ προσήκατο. Τροφῆς μὲν γὰρ καὶ ποτοῦ καὶ ἐνδύματος ὑστερουμένη σὰρξ καὶ διαφθαρείη ἄν, συνουσίας δὲ στερουμένη ἀνόμου οὐδὲν ὅ τι πάσχει κακόν.

And when [Jesus Christ] was born and lived his life by the rest of the conduct of the flesh—I mean by food, drink, and clothing— this one thing alone, through sexual intercourse (συνουσίας), he did not do. Yet he allowed those desires (ἐπιθυμίας) of the flesh that are necessary (ἀναγκαίας) to exist, but those that are not necessary (μὴ ἀναγκαίας) he did not submit to. For lacking food, drink, and clothing, the flesh would die, but deprived of unlawful sexual intercourse, it suffers no harm.33

Here, Ps. Justin sets “necessary” desires, which include food, drink, and clothing, against “unnecessary” desires, which he defines as sexual intercourse. What determines the necessity of any given desire is its connection to survival. Whatever desire is not necessary to survival is not needed. Like the virgins discussed above,

32 Ps. Justin, DR 7.2-5

33 Ps. Justin, DR 3.14-15

50 the life of Jesus Christ serves as the exemplum of this division of desires, showing how Christians ought to behave even before the resurrection.

The understanding of sexuality, both desires and reproduction, as

“unnecessary” is critical for Ps. Justin’s defense of the resurrection. Through this distinction, he argues that there is no necessary link between the genitals and the functions (τὰ ἔργα) of sexuality. In doing so, Ps. Justin rejects an essential teleological function for these organs. We shall see that he draws on philosophical discussions of what is necessary and unnecessary in coming to his own conclusions about the place of sexuality in mortality. He wants to insist that neither desire, nor sexual acts, nor reproduction are intrinsic “according to principle” to the genitals.

Τὸ μὲν οὖν τὰ μόρια ἐνεργοῦντα ταῦτα ἐνεργεῖν ἅπερ ἐνταῦθα φαίνεται δῆλον, τὸ δὲ κατ’ ἀνάγκην αὐτὰ κατὰ τὴν ἀρχὴν ἐνεργεῖν οὐκ ἀναγκαῖον. Ἵνα δὲ σαφὲς ᾖ τὸ λεγόμενον, οὕτω σκοπήσομεν. Μήτρας ἐστὶν ἐνέργεια τὸ κυΐσκειν καὶ μορίου ἀνδρικοῦ τὸ σπερμαίνειν. Ὥσπερ δέ, εἰ ταῦτα μέλλει ἐνεργεῖν ταύτας τὰς ἐνεργείας, οὕτως οὐκ ἀναγκαῖον αὐτοῖς ἐστι τὸ τὴν ἀρχὴν ἐνεργεῖν (ὁρῶμεν γοῦν πολλὰς γυναῖκας μὴ κυϊσκούσας, ὡς τὰς στείρας, καὶ μήτρας ἐχούσας) οὕτως οὐκ εὐθέως καὶ τὸ μήτραν ἔχειν καὶ κυΐσκειν ἀναγκάζει.

Now on one hand it seems clear that the members doing (τὰ μόρια ἐνεργοῦντα) these things do (ἐνεργεῖν) them here, but on the other that it is not necessary (οὐκ ἀναγκαῖον) to do these things according to principle (κατὰ τὴν ἀρχὴν). In order that this might be clear, let us consider thus: The function (ἐνέργεια) of the womb is to get pregnant (τὸ κυΐσκειν) and the male member to impregnate (τὸ σπερμαίνειν). But just as, if these members are destined to do these functions, so it is not necessary for them to do them on principle (at least we see many women who do not get pregnant, such as the sterile, even though they have wombs), thus it is not immediately necessary to both have a womb and get pregnant.34

34 Ps. Justin, DR 3.3-7. While Dods translates the phrases κατὰ τὴν ἀρχὴν (3.3) and τὴν ἀρχὴν (3.6) as “from the beginning,” other translations make different choices. D’Anna translates both adverbially “assolutamente”. Heimgartner translates both as “grundsätzlich”. Wartelle translates the first as “selon leur principe d’origine” and the second as “radicalement.”

51 Here, Ps. Justin argues that there is no “necessary” (ἀναγκαῖον) connection between the genitals and their functions, specifically their reproductive functions. Not all those who have wombs, for instance, get pregnant.

Ps. Justin’s distinction between “necessary” and “unnecessary” desires participates directly in a current philosophical conversation on this topic. The distinction between different kinds of desires and the responsibility to control or extirpate them was a common theme. For example, Epicurus sees three classes of desire: 1) the natural and necessary, 2) the natural and unnecessary, and 3) the

“groundless” (κεναί).35 For Epicurus, the natural, necessary desires would include eating and sleeping, while the natural but unnecessary desires included sexual gratification.36

Other philosophical traditions recognized sex as a “necessary” desire, though not necessary in the sense of personal survival. For example, Plato included sexual desire along with hunger and thirst as necessary to human beings.37 They become

35 “We must also consider that of desires some are natural (φυσικαί), others are groundless (κεναί); and that of the natural some are necessary (ἀναγκαῖαι) as well as natural, and some natural only. And of the necessary desires some are necessary for happiness, some for the body is to be rid of uneasiness, some for life itself. He who has a clear and certain understanding of these things will direct every preference and aversion toward securing health of body and tranquility of mind, seeing that this is the sum and end of a blessed life.” Epicurus, Letter to Menoecus, 127-8.

“[By pleasure we mean] the absence of pain in the body and of trouble in the soul. It is not drinking and revelry, enjoying boys and women, not the enjoyment of the fish and other delicacies of a luxurious table, which produce a pleasant life; it is sober reasoning, searching out the grounds of every choice and avoidance, and banishing those beliefs through which the greatest tumults take possession of the soul.” Epicurus, Letter to Menoecus, 131-2.

36 Pierre Hadot, What Is Ancient Philosophy? (Cambridge, Mass.: Belknap Press of Harvard University Press, 2002), 117.

37 Kathy L. Gaca, The Making of Fornication: Eros, Ethics, and Political Reform in Greek Philosophy and Early Christianity, Hellenistic Culture and Society ; 40 (Berkeley: University of California Press, 2003), 26-41.

52 “necessary” when one runs against the limits to control them, with the additional qualification that they are satisfied in a “healthy” manner. Sexual desire is natural, and as a result also necessary for an individual.

Some medical writers from the second century contradicted the notion that sexuality was “necessary” because abstaining had no negative impact to individual health. In fact, sexual practices actually harmed the individual. In the sexual act, the expelling of sperm for males was a loss of some of the vital energy they possessed.38

Sperm was the result of distilled blood that was boiled in the male body for maximum potency. Sex was dangerous in that it caused a loss of this fluid. Soranus notes, “intercourse causes atony [weakness] in everybody and is therefore not appropriate; for without giving any advantage it affects the body by making it atonic.”39 Galen argued along the same lines, but outlined the risks in even starker terms:

When, as a result of continual sexual excess, all the sperm has been lost, the testicles draw seminal liquid from the veins immediately above them…. The draining process does not stop until it has involved every part of the body, so if it is constantly repeated and if all the vessels and all the parts of the body are forced to give up their supplies until the strongest part is finally satisfied, the result will be that all the parts of the animal (the living creature) are drained not just of seminal fluid but also of their vital spirit, for this is taken from the arteries along with the seminal fluid. It is hardly surprising, therefore, that those who lead a debauched life become weak, since the

38 Soranus concedes that “uninterrupted desire” may have some side effects, such as nocturnal emissions for men. While others attributed nocturnal emissions to sexual dreams, Soranus connected them with periods of continence. Galen attributed nocturnal emissions to bad humors in the semen. Aline Rousselle, Porneia: On Desire and the Body in Antiquity, Family, Sexuality, and Social Relations in Past Times (Oxford, UK ; New York, NY, USA: Basil Blackwell, 1988), 66. In contrast, Soranus argued, “nocturnal emission at the outset is not a disease or even a concomitant of disease…[it results] from continence or a long interruption of sexual activity.” Preserved in Caelius Aurelianus, Chronic Diseases, V, 7. Quoted in Rousselle, Porneia, 66. Thus, there is nothing unhealthy about this side effect of continence.

39 Soranus, Gyn, 3.29.

53 purest part of both substances is removed from their body. As well as this, pleasure itself can dissolve vital tension to such an extent that people have died from an excess of pleasure.40

The strength of the body, and even life itself, was dependent upon the proper regulation of sexual practice. Excess could lead to a premature death.

While some physicians suggested that sexual practice was a necessary element of healthy living, Soranus takes the position that “intercourse is harmful in itself,” which he argues more fully in his (now lost) book On Hygiene.41 Any supposed benefits to the health are far outweighed by the risks. He notes that animals that are prevented from intercourse are stronger and that virgins who have renounced intercourse in service of the gods (e.g., the Vestals) are less susceptible to illness. If they are fat and suffer from menstrual difficulties, it is due to idleness, not the retention of fluids caused by sexual abstinence.

Soranus and Galen’s views on the healthfulness of sexual continence helps explain, at least to some degree, why Christians like Ps. Justin and his opponents imagined a resurrection without sexual practices. Physicians agreed that sex temporarily “weakened” the body. The perfected, resurrected body, however, could not be subjected to this kind of corruptibility. The “strength” of the resurrected body derives in part from its continence.

40 Oribasius, Collectionum Medicarum Reliquiae 22.2.19-21. The English translation here is quoted in Rousselle, Porneia, 14-15.

41 Soranus, Gyn, 1.32. The note in Temkin’s translation of Soranus indicates, “A Latin text edited by V. Rose (Anecdota II, p. 163f.) under the title of ‘Caeli Aureliani De salutaribus praeceptis’ which is probably based on Soranus’ work “On Hygiene” states (p. 201) that intercourse is necessary for conception but bad for the preservation of bodily health.” p29, n55.

54 Though sexual intercourse is not necessary for the health of an individual according to some medical theories, Soranus argues that procreation is both natural and necessary for society as a whole. As with the philosophers, “nature” entails a certain kind of necessity with respect to sexuality.

Permanent virginity is healthful, in males and females alike; nevertheless, intercourse seems consistent with the general principle of nature according to which both sexes, of continuity, the succession of living beings.42

He argues that virginity is preferable from the point of view of health, but that sexual practice is necessary from the point of view of “nature” for the obligations one has to perpetuate society. In this view, the necessary obligations of “nature” to reproduce stand in tension with the health of an individual. Soranus resolves this tension between health and the demands of nature and society by placing the necessity of procreation above the health of the individual.

In contrast with these philosophical and medical accounts of necessary and unnecessary desires evaluated through the lens of “nature,” Ps. Justin reduces this classification into a bifurcated “necessary” and “unnecessary” without any recourse to nature and attaches moral significance to this distinction. Ps. Justin argues that since sexual desire is “unnecessary” for individual survival, the genitals can be resurrected without being subjected to the desires that often accompany them. He would seem to agree with Clement of Alexandria on this point that “desire is not a

42 Soranus, Gyn, 1.32. Translation from Temkin, Soranus' Gynecology.

55 bodily thing, though it occurs because of the body.”43 In this view, desire does not necessarily belong to the flesh.

Matter and Salvation

The engagement with philosophy to account for desire is turned to an even more explicit engagement with philosophical physics to account for the flesh. Ps.

Justin will use philosophical physics to account not only for the lack of necessity of desire, but also for the persistence of sexual difference, point to creation as an example of both. One problem, however, is that the discourse of Greek philosophy has a negative valence to some of his readers. In a lengthy aside, he apologizes to many of his readers who might be offended by this use of philosophy. To them, he argues his case for why philosophy is necessary.

Νῦν δὲ τὸ δυνατὴν εἶναι τὴν τῆς σαρκὸς ἀνάστασιν ἐπιδεικνύομεν, συγγνώμην αἰτούμενοι παρὰ τῶν τῆς ἀληθείας τέκνων, εἰ καὶ τῶν ἔξωθεν εἶναι δοκούντων καὶ κοσμικῶν λόγων ἁπτόμεθα· πρῶτον μὲν ὅτι οὐδέν ἐστιν ἔξωθεν τοῦ θεοῦ, οὐδὲ αὐτὸς ὁ κόσμος· ποίημα γάρ ἐστιν αὐτοῦ· δεύτερον ὅτι πρὸς ἀπίστους τούτους ποιούμεθα τοὺς λόγους. Εἰ γὰρ πρὸς πιστούς, αὐταρκὲς ἦν ἀποκρίνεσθαι τὸ ὅτι πεπιστεύκαμεν· νῦν δὲ διὰ ἀποδείξεων χωρεῖν ἀναγκαῖον. Ἱκανὰ μὲν οὖν καὶ τὰ προειρημένα τεκμήρια πρὸς τὸ δυνατὴν εἶναι δεικνύειν τὴν τῆς σαρκὸς ἀνάστασιν· ἀλλ’, ἐπεὶ λίαν εἰσὶν ἄπιστοι, καὶ ἀναγκαστικώτερον ἐπάξομεν τὸν λόγον, οὐκ ἐκ τῆς πίστεως, ὅτι μὴ τυγχάνουσιν ὄντες αὐτῆς, ἀλλ’ ἐκ τῆς ἀπιστίας, τῆς μητρὸς αὐτῶν, λέγω δὴ τῶν κοσμικῶν λόγων. Εἰ γὰρ ἐκ τούτων ἐπιδεικνύομεν αὐτοῖς δυνατὴν εἶναι τὴν τῆς σαρκὸς ἀνάστασιν, πολλῆς δήπουθεν αἰσχύνης εἰσὶν ἄξιοι, εἰ μήτε τοῖς τῆς πίστεως μήτε τοῖς τοῦ κόσμου ἀκολουθεῖν δύνανται.

Now, we are demonstrating that the resurrection of the flesh is possible, asking pardon of the children of truth44 if we engage with arguments

43 Clem. Alex. Strom 3.34.2. Quinetiam appetitio non est corporis, etsi fiat per corpus. Translation from Oulton and Chadwick, Alexandrian Christianity: Selected Translations of Clement and Origen. Cf. Plato. Philebus 35 C

44 This may be a technical term for the community.

56 seeming to be from outside and worldly. First, because nothing is outside of God, not even the world itself; for, anything made is of him; and second, because we are making arguments for unbelievers. For, if we argued for believers, it is sufficient to answer that we have believed, but now it is necessary to furnish proofs. The proofs that were offered before are sufficient that the resurrection of the flesh is possible, but since those people are very much unbelievers, we will bring forward a more compelling argument, not from belief—because they are not belonging to it, but from unbelief, their mother—I mean, therefore, from worldly arguments. For if, from these, we demonstrate to them that the resurrection of the flesh is possible, they are surely worthy of great shame if they are unable to follow either arguments from faith or from the world.45

While this text reveals a great deal about Ps. Justin’s audience, and their potential reservations to his line of reasoning, this text also sheds light on Ps. Justin’s larger philosophical perspective. He suggests that nothing is outside of God, not even philosophy. This holistic view of creation, in which philosophy, though threatening, is still counted as created by God and useful to certain ends, among them convincing unbelievers, creates a tension with his account of desire. If flesh and philosophy are good because God creates both, why not also desire? Where does it come from if not from God’s creation?

One possible answer to this question is that Ps. Justin imagines the universe as fundamentally material, and that immaterial desire does not belong to material flesh by nature. His materialist view of the flesh conceives of it as neutral, raw stuff, with no inert characteristics. In order to make this case, he engages in a summary of the physics of “those who are called natural philosophers” (οἱ τοῦ κόσμου φυσικοί

σοφοὶ λεγόμενοι): Plato, the Stoics, and Epicurus. Ps. Justin explains, in Plato’s system both God and matter (ὕλη) are “indestructible.” He compares God to an

45 Ps. Justin, DR 5.11-16

57 “artificer” (τεχνίτης) and matter to “clay or wax” (πηλοῦ ἢ κηροῦ). For the Stoics, all things are made of a “mixture of the four elements” (ἐκ τῆς τῶν τεσσάρων

στοιχείων κράσεως). Here God is compared to a man making something from mixing metals. He could easily dissolve and separate them, and then mix them back together again. For Epicurus, all things are made from atoms. In this system, God is compared to a “jeweler” making a mosaic. If the individual stones were scattered, he could still reproduce the image he had made the first time out of the same stones.46

In this materialist cosmos, creation and reproduction take place through

God’s will to formulate the individual parts. He explains that the philosophical schools agree that the elements are an indestructible eternal substance capable of being infinitely reformulated.

Τοιαύτης δὲ διαφωνίας αὐτοῖς οὔσης, ἔστι τινὰ παρ’ αὐτοῖς ὁμολογούμενα κοινὰ δόγματα πρὸς ἁπάντων· ἓν μὲν τὸ μήτε ἐκ τοῦ μὴ ὄντος γίνεσθαι μήτε εἰς τὸ μὴ ὂν ἀναλύεσθαι καὶ ἀπόλλυσθαι, καὶ τὸ τὰ στοιχεῖα ἄφθαρτα ὑπάρχειν, ἐξ ὧν ἡ ἑκάστου πράγματος γένεσίς ἐστι. Τούτων τοίνυν οὕτως ἐχόντων, κατὰ πάντας αὐτοὺς φανήσεται δυνατὴ ἡ τῆς σαρκὸς ὑπάρχειν παλιγγενεσία.

Though there is such disagreement among them, there are some teachings (δόγματα) admitted in common by them all: one is that nothing is generated from that which does not exist, nor does anything dissolve and disappear into that which doesn’t exist, and the elements (τὰ στοιχεῖα) which exist are indestructible (ἄφθαρτα), from which the creation (γένεσις) of each thing comes. And these things being so, the regeneration (παλιγγενεσία) of the flesh according to all these philosophers will appear to be possible.47

46 Ps. Justin, DR 6.1.

47 Ps. Justin, DR 6.3-5

58 In this system, generation and creation take place from indestructible matter. This key notion that matter is “indestructible” locates its importance alongside God.

Indeed, Ps. Justin describes God as “indestructible” (ἄφθαρτος) too.48 He argues that all of the major philosophical schools agree on the central point that the elements (στοιχεῖα) are indestructible (ἄφθαρτα). (Ηe later argues, however, that

Jesus’ message that the flesh is indestructible is how Jesus’ message differs from what the philosophers had already taught).49 He concludes that since the material is

“indestructible” (ἄφθαρτα);50 therefore, the regeneration of the flesh is possible.51

The divine roots of matter and flesh are manifested not only in their indestructibility according to philosophy, but also in the biblical account of creation.

This flesh was created and formed by God and as such is good.

Ἐοίκασι δὲ οὗτοι τὴν ὅλην τοῦ θεοῦ πραγματείαν ἀγνοεῖν, καὶ τὴν ἐξ ἀρχῆς γένεσιν τοῦ ἀνθρώπου καὶ πλάσιν, καὶ τὰ ἐν κόσμῳ ὧν ἕνεκα γέγονεν. Ἢ γὰρ οὔ φησιν ὁ λόγος· Ποιήσωμεν ἄνθρωπον κατ’ εἰκόνα

48 Ps. Justin, DR 6.7; cf. 8.5

49 Ps. Justin, DR 10.7-8. καὶ λανθάνοµεν ἑαυτοὺς ἐπιστρέφοντες εἰς τοὐπίσω, ὁπόταν ἀκούσωµεν ὅτι ἡ µὲν ψυχὴ ἀθάνατός ἐστι, τὸ δὲ σῶµα φθαρτὸν καὶ οὐκέτι δυνάµενον ἀναζῆσαι; Ταῦτα γὰρ καὶ πρὸ τοῦ µαθεῖν τὴν ἀλήθειαν παρὰ Πυθαγόρου καὶ Πλάτωνος ἠκούοµεν. Εἰ οὖν ταῦτα ἔλεγεν ὁ σωτὴρ καὶ µόνης τῆς ψυχῆς τὴν ζωὴν εὐηγγελίζετο, τί καινὸν ἡµῖν ἔφερε παρὰ Πυθαγόραν καὶ Πλάτωνα καὶ τὸν τούτων χορόν;

“And do we not notice that we are turning ourselves backwards whenever we hear that the soul is immortal, but the body is destructible (φθαρτὸν) and not able to rise? For even before we learned the truth we heard these things from Pythagoras and Plato. If the Savior said these things and promised the life of the soul alone, what new thing did he say to us beyond Pythagoras, Plato and their chorus?”

50 Ps. Justin, DR 6.4, 6, 7, 10, 11, 13, 14. This same term is used to describe God in 8.5 and the soul in 8.16. Further the property of incorruptibility (ἄφθαρσία) is used in 10.10.

51 For a discussion of these kinds of metaphors, see Caroline Walker Bynum, The Resurrection of the Body in Western Christianity, 200-1336, Lectures on the History of Religions ; New Ser., No. 15 (New York: Columbia University Press, 1995), 1-17. Bynum’s thesis that these metaphors of the broken and reassembled body to describe the resurrection arise out of the context of persecution and martyrdom is interesting, but there is no discernable anxiety about martyrdom in many of the texts she discusses, including Ps. Justin.

59 ἡμετέραν καὶ καθ’ ὁμοίωσιν; Ποῖον; Σαρκικὸν δῆλον ὅτι λέγει ἄνθρωπον. Φησὶ γὰρ ὁ λόγος· Καὶ ἔλαβεν ὁ θεὸς χοῦν ἀπὸ τῆς γῆς καὶ ἔπλασε τὸν ἄνθρωπον. Δῆλον οὖν ὡς κατ’ εἰκόνα θεοῦ πλασσόμενος ὁ ἄνθρωπος ἦν σαρκικός.

But these people seem to be ignorant of the whole work of God, both the creation and formation of the human from the beginning, and why the things in the world came to be. For, does not the word say, “Let us make a human according to our image (κατ’ εἰκόνα) and likeness (καθ’ ὁμοίωσιν)”? What kind? It is clear that it means a fleshly human. For the word says, “And God took dust from the earth and formed the human.” It is clear that the human that was formed according to the image of God was fleshly.52

Ps. Justin conflates the two creation accounts (Gen 1:26 and 2:7) to argue that the human being that was formed in the “image” of God was made of flesh. His understanding of Genesis here locates the flesh as the most central aspect of the human being. As we shall see in later chapters, Irenaeus offers an interpretation of this passage that sees humans as having lost the fullness of the “image and likeness” in the apostasy of Adam. For Ps. Justin, there is no sense that the “image and likeness” manifested in the flesh has been tarnished in any way, or that these are two separate states to be attained. It was possible in the beginning, as it is now, that the flesh manifests its divine image. It is of course this same biblical passage that continues, “and male and female he created them.” To invoke this text is to invoke the foundations of the created flesh as the basis for sexual difference as well.

While Ps. Justin holds the flesh in such high esteem as to consider formed according to the image and likeness of God, he also sees God’s act of salvation as focused on the flesh. As such, the salvation of the human must include the flesh.

52 Ps. Justin, DR 7.2-5

60 Μὴ οὖν καθ’ ἑαυτὴν ψυχὴ ἄνθρωπος; Οὔκ· ἀλλ’ ἀνθρώπου ψυχή. Μὴ οὖν καλοῖτο σῶμα ἄνθρωπος; Οὔκ· ἀλλ’ ἀνθρώπου σῶμα καλεῖται. Εἴπερ οὖν κατ’ ἰδίαν μὲν τούτων οὐδέτερον ἄνθρωπός ἐστι, τὸ δὲ ἐκ τῆς ἀμφοτέρων συμπλοκῆς καλεῖται ἄνθρωπος, κέκληκε δὲ ὁ θεὸς εἰς ζωὴν καὶ ἀνάστασιν τὸν ἄνθρωπον, οὐ τὸ μέρος ἀλλὰ τὸ ὅλον κέκληκεν, ὅπερ ἐστὶ τὴν ψυχὴν καὶ τὸ σῶμα.

Is the soul by itself a human? No, but it is the soul of a human. Is the body called a human? No, but it is called the body of a human. If neither of them are a human by themselves, but they are called a human from the intertwining of both, and God has called the human to life and resurrection, then he has called not a part (μέρος), but the whole (ὅλον), which is the soul and the body.53

The human being is only “whole” with both the soul and the body. In this view, there is no salvation of the individual “parts” per se, but rather the “whole” which is made up of the intertwining of the parts. God has saved human beings, not just part of them, or one aspect of them. In this way, the sexually differentiated “parts” of males and females are actually constitutive of what it means to be “whole.”

The salvation of the “flesh” of the human being functions as the defining feature of salvation itself. According to Ps. Justin, the opponents argue that God only saves the soul because it shares the same nature as God, “incorruptible (ἄφθαρτος), being a part of God and breathed out of him.”54 That is, they understand the creation narrative in Genesis to suggest that God saves only the “breath” which he put into the formed human being. Ps. Justin concedes this point, but argues that there is no praise for God in such an act. If he is merely saving a part of himself, he has done no good thing. Indeed, if the soul itself is divine, then “salvation belongs to

53 Ps. Justin, DR 8.9-11

54 Ps. Justin, DR 8.16. ἄφθαρτος, µέρος οὖσα τοῦ θεοῦ καὶ ἐµφύσηµα

61 it” without God having to do anything.55 If God simply saves that which is already a part of himself, he does nothing more than any beast would do. Instead, God has done something more by saving the flesh, which is not a part of himself. Since the

Savior taught to “love our enemies,” God has shown how to fulfill this commandment through saving the flesh.56 In this analogy, the “flesh” is construed as an “enemy,” which is likely not how Ps. Justin thinks of it, but rather functions as a rhetorical argument aimed at his opponents whom he believes do think of the flesh as an “enemy.”

In this section, Ps. Justin lays out the foundations for why the flesh will be saved. He suggests that the flesh itself is simply a particular formation of eternal, indestructible elements. God’s acts of creation are not based in desires, as is human procreation. The human being was created this way, and the particular form of the flesh is essential to what it means to be a human being. The formation of the flesh that will rise necessarily entails sexually differentiated bodies, manifest in the morphological parts of the body.

Virginity is a Practice of Enkrateia

How exactly is salvation possible for the flesh of males and females? Ps.

Justin invokes the life and resurrection of Christ as another proof of the resurrection of the flesh. He notes that Christ healed the flesh and raised the dead, both soul and body. He himself also was raised in the flesh in his own resurrection, inviting his

55 Ps. Justin, DR 8.18: τὸ γὰρ σώζεσθαι πάρεστιν αὐτῇ

56 Ps. Justin, DR 8.19-25

62 disciples to handle him. He also ate with them. Finally, he was taken up to heaven while in the flesh. All of these examples were meant to show that “it is not impossible for the flesh to ascend into heaven.”57 But this flesh is different in key respects from mortal flesh.

Ps. Justin argues that the “whole” self is actually free from those difficulties and imperfections that plague the present self. He offers the healing miracles of the

Savior as evidence of the perfected resurrected body.

Εἰ γὰρ ἐπὶ τῆς γῆς τὰς ἀσθενείας τῆς σαρκὸς ἰάσατο καὶ ὁλόκληρον ἐποίησε τὸ σῶμα, πολλῷ μᾶλλον ἐν τῇ ἀναστάσει τοῦτο ποιήσει, ὥστε καὶ ἀκέραιον καὶ ὁλόκληρον ἀναστῆναι τὴν σάρκα. Τὰ μὲν οὖν παρ’ αὐτῶν νομιζόμενα ἄπορα τοῦτον τὸν τρόπον ἰαθήσεται.

For if he healed (ἰάσατο) these weaknesses and made the body whole (ὁλόκληρον) on the earth, how much more will he do it in the resurrection, so that the flesh will rise pure (ἀκέραιον) and whole. The things that are considered by them to be difficulties (ἄπορα) will be healed (ἰαθήσεται) in this way.58

Jesus healed bodies of their imperfections while mortal, and he will make them

“whole” and “pure” in the resurrection. We have seen above that this same term for

“difficulties” (ἄπορα) used here also describes the opponents’ description of the genitals. These things that are considered to be difficulties that prevent the suitability and possibility of the resurrection of the flesh, especially the genitals, will be “healed” in the resurrection.

While sexuality is completely eliminated in the resurrection, we have seen that the resurrection provides a model of sexual abstinence and virginity for mortal

57 Ps. Justin, DR 9.8: ὅτι οὐκ ἀδύνατον καὶ σαρκὶ εἰς οὐρανὸν ἀνελθεῖν

58 Ps. Justin, DR 4.5-6

63 bodies. The notion of “healing” even the mortal body from sexuality is an important point for Ps. Justin. For Ps. Justin, the belief in the salvation of the flesh is invested with more than just a proper understanding of the nature of human beings, but a proper understanding of how one must behave while in the flesh. He considers that one must understand the salvation of the flesh in order to avoid sins. The whole hope of salvation rests on guarding the body from sins, but people cannot avoid sin unless they accept that the flesh is capable of living again. To support his point, Ps.

Justin draws an analogy between medicine and the message of Jesus Christ.

Εἰ δὲ μὴ ἀνίσταται ἡ σάρξ, διὰ τί καὶ φυλάσσεται καὶ οὐ μᾶλλον αὐτῇ συγχωροῦμεν χρήσασθαι ταῖς ἐπιθυμίαις, καὶ οὐ μιμούμεθα τοὺς ἰατρούς, οἵτινες, ἐπειδὰν ἀπεγνωσμένον ἔχωσιν ἄνθρωπον σώζεσθαι μὴ δυνάμενον, ἐπιτρέπουσιν αὐτῷ ταῖς ἐπιθυμίαις ὑπηρετεῖν; Ἴσασι γὰρ ὅτι ἀπόλλυται. Ὅπερ ἀμέλει ποιοῦσιν οἱ τὴν σάρκα μισοῦντες, ἐκβάλλοντες αὐτὴν τῆς κληρονομίας, τὸ ὅσον ἐπ’ αὐτοῖς· διὰ τοῦτο γὰρ καὶ ὡς νεκρὰν ἐσομένην ἀτιμάζουσιν αὐτήν. Εἰ δὲ ὁ ἡμέτερος ἰατρὸς Ἰησοῦς ὁ Χριστός, ἀπὸ τῶν ἐπιθυμιῶν ἡμῶν ἀποσπάσας, διαιτᾶται τῇ κατ’ αὐτὸν σώφρονι καὶ ἐγκρατεῖ διαίτῃ τὴν σάρκα ἡμῶν, δῆλον ὡς ἐλπίδα σωτηρίας ἔχουσαν ἀπὸ τῶν ἁμαρτημάτων αὐτὴν φυλάσσει, καθάπερ τοὺς ἐλπίδα σωτηρίας ἔχοντας ἀνθρώπους οἱ ἰατροὶ οὐκ ἐῶσιν ὑπηρετεῖν ταῖς ἡδοναῖς.

If the flesh does not rise, for what reason is it also guarded and why do we not assent even more to enjoy desires, and why do we not imitate the physicians (ἰατρούς), who, when they have a person who is hopeless and not able to be saved (σώζεσθαι), they allow him to indulge in his desires? For they know that he is dying. This indeed is what those who hate the flesh do, casting it out of its inheritance as much as they can. For on account of this they dishonor the flesh as it becomes a corpse. But our physician, Jesus Christ, tearing us away from our desires, regulates our flesh with his regimen (διαίτῃ) by temperance (σώφρονι) and self-control (ἐγκρατεῖ), it is clear that having a hope of salvation/health (σωτηρίας), he guards it from sins, just as for those humans having a hope of salvation/health (σωτηρίας), the physicians do not allow them to indulge their pleasures.59

59 Ps. Justin, DR 10.13-17

64 For Ps. Justin, to value the soul but to devalue the flesh promotes indulgence in desire. He believes that an anthropology that considers the self as immortal soul and the body as an impermanent appendage leads the temptation to allow the body to indulge its desires. Here, Ps. Justin constructs his opponents as similar to bad physicians, and Christ as the good physician. Both, according to Ps. Justin, hate the flesh and are therefore more likely to indulge in pleasure and desire because they don’t think it is capable of salvation. If the flesh is bound to desires and death, he wonders rhetorically, if it can’t avoid sinning, why not permit it to take part in sin?

As opposed to mortal physicians, Christ is the true physician who teaches the proper relationship between body and soul. He prescribes a regimen (δίαιτα) of temperance and self-control.60 If the body is to be saved, it must avoid desire and pleasure, and it can do that constitutionally.

Conclusion

In both Ps. Justin and his representation of his opponents’ materializations of the resurrected body, the human being is depicted as desexualized. For their views of the non-sexual resurrected body, they turn to the saying of Jesus that “in the resurrection there shall be neither marrying nor giving in marriage.” What they disagree on is what “parts” constitute the human being who shall be raised. In his emphasis on the resurrection the flesh as a resurrection of the “whole” person including the genitals, Ps. Justin’s definition of the “whole” is necessarily selective

60 Musonius Rufus discusses “regimen” (διαίτῃ) as the way to achieve “virtue” (σώφροσυνη) and “self control” (ἐγκρατεῖα). Discourse 7. Cora E. Lutz, Musonius Rufus, "The Roman Socrates" (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1947), 52-54.

65 because it excludes sexuality. For Ps. Justin, the resurrected body consists of flesh, but a flesh that is quite different from the flesh that his opponents imagine. They imagine a flesh that is full of weakness, imperfections, and desire. Such a substance is not possibly worthy of the heavenly realm. Ps. Justin agrees with this evaluation of sexuality, especially desire and reproduction, as a problem that impedes salvation. Yet, he is committed to the salvation of the flesh. As a solution, he constructs a flesh without desire that is not only characteristic of the resurrection, but also which can also be achieved “before the coming age.”

In Ps. Justin’s work, the resurrected body is a site for both thinking about what the human subject is, as well as what the human subject should be. Ps. Justin and his opponents clashed so passionately over the issue of whether or not resurrected bodies will possess genitals because this issue was a battle ground for how to best theorize and actualize the practice of sexual renunciation. Such a view is important for our understanding of the history of sexuality because it demonstrates how the discursive materialization of the body interacts with normative constructions of sexual practice. Ps. Justin offers his representation of the resurrected body as the foundation for normative practices like sexual renunciation, achieved through the virtues of temperance and self-control. In the same way that the resurrected body possesses genitals, but lacks the desire and functions that often attend them, so should the mortal body, and vice versa. By distinguishing between these body parts and their functions, Ps. Justin is thus able to prescribe proper sexual behavior through establishing continuity between the mortal and resurrected bodies. For Ps. Justin, his opponents’ belief that flesh itself is the cause

66 of sin can only serve to justify sexual desire and practice as an inevitable consequence of existing in the flesh. In contrast, Ps. Justin argues that the resurrection of the fleshly genitals is critical for modeling fleshly existence without desire in order to justify his own program of sexual renunciation.

Though Ps. Justin seeks to denaturalize sexuality, what are the implications for his insistence on sexually differentiated bodies? For Ps. Justin, the genitals are resurrected not because there is some intrinsic worth in them as part of God’s creation, but rather so that their freedom from sexual desires and functions can model practices for mortal bodies. Yet, is there a tension within the claims to the durability of sexual difference in the loss of sexuality? In what ways can sexual difference as a difference be said to exist if the basis for making the difference in broader Greco-Roman culture, namely sexuality, ceases to signify? Though his description of his opponents’ version of the resurrection eliminates the “parts” which distinguish males and females, Ps. Justin vigorously defends these parts as a persistent element of human identity in the resurrection. For the resurrected bodies described by Ps. Justin, bodies and their parts are naturalized as part of one’s essential identity that is raised in the eternal realm, while desires and sexuality are denaturalized and de-essentialized as secondary features to be sloughed off either at death, or ideally even in this life. In this way we have seen how materiality functions as a discursive strategy to identify what is more essential to the self. The apparent materiality of bodies, and the invisibility of desires, works to form normative values about the body. Here we see a schema of necessary vs. unnecessary, eternal vs. contingent, where bodies are taken as given and necessary

67 while desires are secondary and in some sense “unnecessary”—not God-given. The contingency of desires and sexuality disrupts any necessary/essential connection between sexed bodies and desires. Such a view destabilizes any claims to a necessary sexuality since desires themselves cannot be said to be natural to bodies.

Ps. Justin does not consider the interrelatedness of sexual difference and sexuality as causing a problem for sexual difference. That is, he does not see sexual difference as rooted in discourses of sexuality at all. He seeks to maintain sexual difference as rooted in the morphological differences of bodies. Indeed, he even considers the differences between male and female virgins, ascribing sexually differentiated ways of being in the state of virginity. Ps. Justin then does not see the elimination of sexuality as a problem for the division between males and females, but rather “parts” to be a different way of exemplifying that difference. On what basis would such a difference exist? That is, what is the difference between males and females, maleness and femaleness, that persists in the absence sexuality

(desires, reproduction, and sexual roles) as the marker of what counts as different between males and females? Ps. Justin does not answer this question, and does not see the problem he has produced for distinguishing males and females.

68

3. “Spiritual Resurrection” in the Flesh: Epistle to Rheginos

Introduction

At one time among the most studied Nag Hammadi texts,1 the sole manuscript of the Epistle to Rheginos (EpRheg) is a didactic letter that belongs to the same late second-century milieu as Ps. Justin, Athenagoras, and Irenaeus.2 The author and provenance of the text are unknown, though its translation from Greek to Coptic and its preservation in the Nag Hammadi codices suggest that it circulated distantly and long after its original composition.

The nature of the resurrection is the central question of the EpRheg, but also the source of scholarly disagreement about this text. This text takes a different understanding of the resurrection in some respects than the other texts discussed in this dissertation, causing some scholars to accuse the author of “reinterpreting” the

1 Jacques E. Ménard, Le Traité Sur La Résurrection: (Nh I, 4), Bibliothèque Copte De Nag Hammadi. Section "Textes" ; 12 (Québec: Presses de l'Université Laval, 1983), 1. The most important critical texts and commentaries are Bentley Layton, The Gnostic Treatise on Resurrection from Nag Hammadi, Harvard Dissertations in Religion ; No. 12 (Missoula, Mont.: Scholars Press, 1979), Malcolm Lee Peel, The Epistle to Rheginos: A Valentinian Letter on the Resurrection: Introduction, Translation, Analysis and Exposition, The New Testament Library (London,: S.C.M. Press, 1969), Michel Malinine, De Resurrectione = Epistula Ad Rheginum: Codex Jung F. Xxii R-F. Xxv V (P. 43-50) (Zürich: Rascher Verlag, 1963), Willem C. van Unnik, "The Newly Discovered Gnostic "Epistle to Rheginos" On the Resurreciton: I and Ii"," The Journal of Ecclesiastical History 15, no. 2 (1964). The critical edition cited in this dissertation is Malcolm Lee Peel, "The Treatise on the Resurrection," in Nag Hammadi Codex I (the Jung Codex) Notes, ed. Harold W. Attridge (Leiden: Brill, 1985).

2 van Unnik, "Newly Discovered Gnostic "Epistle to Rheginos"." Peel has pointed to the conceptions of the NT canon, referring to the “Gospel” and “Apostle” as characteristic of this time period. Peel, The Epistle to Rheginos: A Valentinian Letter on the Resurrection: Introduction, Translation, Analysis and Exposition, 23-24. Layton also suggests a late-second century context given the text’s affinity to Middle Platonism. Layton, Gnostic Treatise on Resurrection, 2-4.

69 resurrection.3 The three main scholarly suggestions are: 1), that the EpRheg advocates an “orthodox” resurrection of the flesh;4 2), that the text advocates a new, spiritual “flesh;”5 and 3) that the text rejects the resurrection of any kind of flesh in favor of the “spiritual resurrection” of the nous.6 Though some differences in translation have led to alternative interpretations,7 part of the problem is that the author is working with multiple views of the resurrection, and the key terms of

“spirit,” “flesh,” and “body” are not always used in the ways we have come to expect them from the other texts on the resurrection from this period.8

Despite the divergences in scholarly views over the precise nature of the resurrected person presented in EpRheg, whether flesh, spirit, or spiritual flesh, there is apparent agreement that the resurrected body is in an antagonistic relationship with the mortal flesh. Bentley Layton’s Platonic paradigm for interpreting the EpRheg describes flesh as “bondage” and something to “escape.” He

3 E.g., N. T. Wright, The Resurrection of the Son of God, 1st North American ed., vol. 3, Christian Origins and the Question of God (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2003), 538. Wright denies that the resurrection of the flesh constitutes a “reinterpretation” despite the lack of this phrasing in canonical texts.

4 Ménard, Le Traité Sur La Résurrection, van Unnik, "Newly Discovered Gnostic "Epistle to Rheginos"."

5 Malcolm Lee Peel, "Gnostic Eschatology in the New Testament," Novum Testamentum 12 (1970): 159- 60.

6 Layton, Gnostic Treatise on Resurrection, 91-92.

7 Mark Jeffrey Olson, Irenaeus, the Valentinian Gnostics, and the Kingdom of God (A.H. Book V): The Debate About 1 Corinthians 15:50, [Mellen Biblical Studies] (Lewiston, N.Y.: Mellen Biblical Press, 1992), 17-27.

8 Thomassen argues for a slightly different understanding of the resurrection as “mutual participation,” which he defines as “the Saviour has shared in ‘our’ sufferings (and, by implication, death); ‘we,’ therefore, are able to share in his resurrection.” Einar Thomassen, The Spiritual Seed: The Church of The "Valentinians", Nag Hammadi and Manichaean Studies, V. 60 (Leiden ; Boston: Brill, 2006), 83.This view, however, is still sees a fundamental tension with the flesh. He argues that “eliminate corporeality and substitute it for spiritual existence” and that in the resurrection one is “liberated from the body.” Thomassen, The Spiritual Seed, 83.

70 paints a picture of a “rigid dualism of mental faculty versus material body.”9 Layton suggests that the “radical degree of this dualism goes beyond Plato” because it denies an “interdependence” between “evil or alien matter and a totally transcendent principle of goodness.”10 There is certainly a Platonic paradigm in this text, but this can also be over-read and supposed notions of “Gnostic” hatred toward the flesh can be taken further than the text allows. Where Layton says “escape” the flesh, the EpRheg says simply “that you will not take your flesh when you ascend into the eternal realm.”11 Even Malcolm Peel, who suggests that the EpRheg offers “a reasonably faithful interpretation of the Pauline view” (Paul here is the assumed standard of orthodoxy safely and correctly mediating materialism and dualism), believes that “our author’s negative evaluation of the ‘world’ and the corruptible body of ‘flesh’ does border upon a metaphysical and anthropological dualism which goes beyond Paul’s views.”12 This hatred of the flesh is then said to go beyond Plato, and even worse, to go beyond Paul.13

While most commentators have focused on contrasting EpRheg’s notion of the spiritual resurrection with the resurrection of the flesh as the most important difference between this text and its surviving contemporaries,14 I suggest that the

9 Layton, Gnostic Treatise on Resurrection, 124.

10 Layton, Gnostic Treatise on Resurrection, 124-25, fn 1.

11 NHC 1,4 47,6-8.

12 Peel, The Epistle to Rheginos: A Valentinian Letter on the Resurrection: Introduction, Translation, Analysis and Exposition, 149.

13 Wright suggests that the EpRheg is “totally foreign to Paul.” Wright, The Resurrection of the Son of God, 541.

14 One of the primary debates over this text has focused on what kind of resurrected body the author

71 different notions of the flesh found in these texts warrants more investigation.

While scholars have traditionally aligned texts that advocate the resurrection of the flesh and those that advocate the spiritual resurrection together, if we reconsider our classifications to evaluate how these texts imagine the sexualized nature of the flesh, a realignment takes place and new connections are formed with regard to practices across the resurrection of the flesh/spirit divide. The connections with regard to sexual ethics do not in any necessary way explain shared views about the nature of the resurrected body. For instance, classifying this text as “Valentinian” does not tell us what the author thinks of the flesh.15 Rather, a close reading of the text remains necessary. This insight helps us to see the divergent views about sexuality among the “orthodox” texts advocating the resurrection of the flesh, and also the divergent views about this same issue among those advocating spiritual resurrection.

imagines. The three main suggestions are: first, that the text advocates an “orthodox” resurrection of the flesh Ménard, Le Traité Sur La Résurrection, van Unnik, "Newly Discovered Gnostic "Epistle to Rheginos"."; second, that the text advocates a “new, spiritual ‘flesh’” Peel, "Gnostic Eschatology in the New Testament," 159-60.; and third that the text rejects the resurrection of any kind of flesh in favor of the “spiritual resurrection” of the nous. Layton, Gnostic Treatise on Resurrection.

15 The general trend among scholars is to classify this text as “Valentinian.” Layton says the author is “probably a Valentinian,” and suggests in fn 86 that the placement of the text in Codex I with other Valentinaian texts strengthens this classification. Bentley Layton, "Vision and Revision: A Gnostic View of the Resurrection," in Colloque International Sur Les Textes De Nag Hammadi (Québec, 22-25 Août 1978, Bibliothèque Copte De Nag Hammadi, Section "Etudes" I (Québec; Louvain: Les presses de l'université Laval; Peeters, 1981), 209. However, it is not likely that the text was written by Valentinus himself.(Ménard, Le Traité Sur La Résurrection, 1-2. The “eastern” Valentinian character has been put forth by Ménard, Le Traité Sur La Résurrection, 8. and reiterated by Thomassen along with The Interpretation of Knowledge and The Gospel of Philip, which he distinguishes from the “Western Valentinianism” of Ptolemy (Thomassen, The Spiritual Seed, 83. Thomassen uses these geographical designations despite the lack of any evidence about their provenance. Menard also suggests that the author may employ “gnostic” terminology in order to appeal to his student Rheginos, who comes out of that tradition, as opposed to the inverse. Ménard, Le Traité Sur La Résurrection, 20.

72 I will argue that this supposed “negative evaluation” of the flesh consists in nothing more than a belief that the mortal flesh grows old and dies, an evaluation of the flesh that one can safely say was nearly universally held. Initially, it might appear that the opponents of Ps. Justin bear some resemblance to the author of

EpRheg, both opposing the resurrection of the flesh, preferring a spiritual resurrection. Yet this raises the question of just how exactly the EpRheg depicts the problematics of the flesh as the reason for which it will not be raised. The author’s

Platonic view does suggest that the flesh is an “illusion” and not “real” in an ultimate sense, but the flesh is by no means viewed antagonistically as an evil, or as a prison that must be escaped, or is it irredeemably bound up with sexuality and desire.

What troubles EpRheg about the flesh is merely its what the authors calls its “lack,” its objective tendency to age. The author says that there is grace for the flesh and that it has a soteriological function in the incarnation of Christ. The resurrection may occur while in the mortal flesh for him, and the practices of body are necessary to bringing about the resurrection in the present.

In spite of what I will argue is a different view of sexuality and the body in

EpRheg from that found in Ps. Justin, for instance, there are also some critical points of agreement about sexual difference. EpRheg agrees with Ps. Justin on the resurrection of the “parts” of the body, including the genitals, albeit in a spiritual form. Regardless of what the author thinks about sexuality, he too maintains that there is a morphological continuity between mortal and resurrected persons, if not a substantive one.

73 The Son of Man

The most positive evaluation of the flesh in EpRheg is the strong defense of the incarnation of Christ, whereby the author resists any docetic interpretation.16

The text elsewhere affirms that Christ suffered and that believers suffer along with him.17 The author assigns special significance to the incarnation.18

ⲛ̣̄ⲧ̣ⲁϩⲁⲡϫⲁⲉⲓⲥ ⲣ̄ ⲭⲣⲱ ⲛ̄ⲉϣ ⲛ̄ϩⲉ ⲛ̄ⲛ̄ϩⲉⲃⲏⲩⲉ ⲉϥϣⲟⲟⲡ ϩⲛ̄ ⲥⲁⲣⲝ ⲁⲩⲱ ⲛ̄ⲧⲁⲣⲉϥⲟⲩⲁⲛϩϥ̄ ⲁⲃⲁⲗ ⲉⲩϣⲏⲣⲉ ⲛ̄ⲛⲟⲩⲧⲉ ⲡⲉ….ⲡϣⲏⲣⲉ ⲛ̄ⲇⲉ ⲙ̄ⲡⲛⲟⲩⲧⲉ ⲣⲏⲅⲓⲛⲉ ⲛⲉⲩϣⲏⲣⲉ ⲛ̄ⲣⲱⲙⲉ ⲡⲉ ⲁⲩⲱ ⲛⲉϥⲉⲙⲁϩⲧⲉ ⲁⲣⲁⲩ ⲙ̄ⲡⲉⲥⲛⲉⲩ ⲉⲩⲛ̄ⲧⲉϥ̄ ⲙ̄ⲙⲉⲩ ⲛ̄ⲧⲙⲛ̄ⲧⲣⲱⲙⲉ ⲙⲛ̄ ⲧⲙⲛ̄ⲧⲛⲟⲩⲧⲉ ϫⲉⲕⲁⲥⲉ ⲉϥⲛⲁϫⲣⲟ ⲙ̄ⲙⲉⲛ ⲁⲡⲙⲟⲩ ⲁⲃⲁⲗ ϩⲓⲧⲙ̄ ⲡⲧⲣϥ̄ϣⲱⲡⲉ ⲛ̄ϣⲏⲣⲉ ⲛ̄ⲛⲟⲩⲧⲉ ϩⲓⲧⲟⲟⲧϥ̄ ⲇⲉ ⲙ̄ⲡϣⲏⲣⲉ ⲙ̄ⲡⲣⲱⲙⲉ ⲉⲣⲉⲧⲁⲡⲟⲕⲁⲧⲁⲥⲧⲁⲥⲓⲥ ⲛⲁϣⲱⲡⲉ ⲁϩⲱⲟⲩⲛ ⲁⲡⲡⲗⲏⲣⲱⲙⲁ

What sort of things did the Lord make use of while he was in the flesh (ϩⲛ̄ ⲥⲁⲣⲝ) and when he had revealed himself as Son of God?.... Rheginos, the Son of God was the Son of Man. He embraced them both, humanity and divinity, so that he will destroy death by being the Son of God, and through being the Son of Man, the return (ⲁⲡⲟⲕⲁⲧⲁⲥⲧⲁⲥⲓⲥ//) to the fullness (ⲡⲗⲏⲣⲱⲙⲁ) might occur.19

Jesus was not only “in the flesh” (ϩⲛ̄ ⲥⲁⲣⲝ) when he came into the world, but he

“embraced” it, thus answering the question of what sort of things the Lord made use

16 Pace Peel, who suggests, “it is probable that our document teaches an implicit docetism comparable to the Valentinian views.” Peel, "The Treatise on the Resurrection," 151. Peel had reversed his previous views that the text put forward a full Incarnation theology to agree with Malinine that it is possible that this text holds with Tertullian’s Valentinians that Christ’s flesh had “qualities peculiar to itself (propriae qualitatis)” (Tert De. Res. Mort. 2.3), and a “spiritual flesh of Christ (carnem Christi spiritualem)” (Tertullian. De Carn. Christ. 15.1) Peel, The Epistle to Rheginos: A Valentinian Letter on the Resurrection: Introduction, Translation, Analysis and Exposition, 57, 112-13, 65. Malinine, De Resurrectione = Epistula Ad Rheginum: Codex Jung F. Xxii R-F. Xxv V (P. 43-50), 21-22. Peel, "The Treatise on the Resurrection," 146-47. However, there is no evidence for such a distinction between Christ’s flesh and human flesh in EpRheg, and the indication that Christ “embraced” humanity, and brought about the “return of the fullness” through his humanity in a distinctive way from his divinity point against a special divine flesh. From Peuch’s observation that the title “Son of God” is missing from Valentinian texts (Malinine, De Resurrectione = Epistula Ad Rheginum: Codex Jung F. Xxii R-F. Xxv V (P. 43-50), xxviii.), the assumption is out of place here that Valentinian Christological assessments of the “flesh” inform EpRheg.

17 NHC 1,4 45,25-28

18 Thomassen, The Spiritual Seed, 85.

19 NHC 1,4 44,12-34

74 while in the flesh, namely that he used the flesh while he was in the flesh. There is soteriological significance to this embrace in EpRheg. This notion of being

“embraced” is the same term that describes Christ “embracing” humans until they die.20 Elsewhere, “the all” is “embraced,” which is specifically identified with the believers.21 At the point of death, they are released from this “embrace” and ascend into the eternal realm (aeon).22 To be embraced is a good thing in this text, at least while in mortality. The Lord embraced the flesh in the same way that he embraces all believers now.

The incarnation of Christ is a standard proof for the resurrection of the flesh in this period. Yet, the insistence upon the incarnation in the EpRheg does not translate into a view of the resurrection of the flesh. Yet a closer look shows that the incarnation was invoked for multiple uses with respect to the resurrection. For Ps.

Justin, the purpose of the incarnation was to show how resurrected bodies would not procreate.23 For Irenaeus, the incarnation of Christ is a critical tool for his overall theological world-view. He invokes the incarnation to demonstrate the goodness of creation, but also to show that the flesh can be saved: “If the flesh is not

20 NHC 1,4 45,33

21 NHC 1,4 46,38-39

22 NHC 1,4 45,38-39

23 Ps. Justin, DR 3.13. ὁ κύριος δὲ ἡµῶν Ἰησοῦς ὁ Χριστὸς οὐ δι’ ἄλλο τι ἐκ παρθένου ἐγεννήθη, ἀλλ’ ἵνα καταργήσῃ γέννησιν ἐπιθυµίας ἀνόµου καὶ δείξῃ τῷ ἄρχοντι καὶ δίχα συνουσίας ἀνθρωπίνης δυνατὴν εἶναι τῷ θεῷ τὴν ἀνθρώπου πλάσιν.

Our Lord Jesus Christ was born from a virgin for no other reason except in order that he might destroy reproduction (γέννησιν) through unlawful desire (ἐπιθυµίας ἀνόµου) and that he might show the Archon that the formation of a human is possible for God without human sexual intercourse (συνουσίας ἀνθρωπίνης).

75 saved, in no way could the Word of God be made of flesh.”24 In Mary Ann Donovan’s words, for Irenaeus, “the resurrection of the flesh is a consequence of the incarnation.”25 While Ps. Justin points to the incarnation with respect to the sexuality of resurrected bodies, Irenaeus sees the incarnation as pointing to the goodness of the flesh.

For the EpRheg, however, the incarnation points to neither questions of sexuality (at least not explicitly), nor questions of the future resurrection of the flesh. Rather, the Christological argument about Jesus’ relationship to the flesh in mortality represents the orientation that all human beings should have to their flesh. Here, EpRheg insists, along with Irenaeus and others, that there are not two

Christs, one human and one divine, but that there is a single figure. The nature of

Christ is instructive about the nature of all human beings. They too have come from above, and they too dwell in this world.

Yet, Jesus is also different from other humans. Jesus’ special status as Son of

God and Son of Man26 enabled him to accomplish these two tasks, that is, the destruction of death and the restoration of the elect.27 Irenaeus also sees the roles

24 Iren. AH V.14.1 (SC 153:182). Si enim non haberet caro salvari, nequaquam Verbum Dei caro factum esset. Cf. John 1:14.

25 Mary Ann Donovan, One Right Reading?: A Guide to Irenaeus (Collegeville, Minn.: Liturgical Press, 1997), 151.

26 I do not follow the more common translations of these terms in Nag Hammadi studies as “child of divinity” and “child of humanity,” even when the definite articles do not appear. Though they may be grammatically accurate translations, they obscure these Christological titles familiar to modern readers. I agree with Peel that “such alternation [with respect to the definite article] seems due more to stylistic device than to subtleties in Christology.” Peel, "The Treatise on the Resurrection," 148.

27 The use of these two phrases to describe independent Christological features begins in the second century. See Ignatius. Eph 20.2; Od. Sol. 36.3 and Soph Jes Chr III, 4:105.19-22.

76 of Jesus as Son of God and Son of Man as accomplishing two different tasks: “Jesus

Christ was appointed Son of God with power, according to the Spirit of holiness, by the resurrection from the dead, as being the first begotten in all creation.” He continues, “the Son of God being made the Son of Man, that through Him we may receive the adoption—humanity bearing, receiving, and embracing the Son of

God.”28 Here, Irenaeus argues that the resurrection from the dead, or the conquering of death, was integral to Christ’s nature as Son of God. As Son of Man, he accomplishes the reconciliation of humanity, in this case through “adoption,” though in the case of EpRheg through “restoration.”

For EpRheg, as the Son of God, a divine being, Christ is able to destroy death.

More interestingly, as Son of Man, Christ is able to restore the divine fullness by means of his humanity! The incarnation is an important precursor for the resurrection because it provides the restoration of the elect to the divine fullness

(ⲡⲗⲏⲣⲱⲙⲁ).29 In this text, taking on the flesh itself has soteriological significance. In his role as Son of Man, he lived in the world,30 died, and was resurrected.31 Not only does the Son of Man bring about the restoration to the fullness,32 but later that author also suggests that it is as the Son of Man that he also “became the destruction

28 Iren AH III.16.3 (SC 211:298) Filius Dei hominis Filius factus, ut per eum adoptionem percipiamus, portante homine et capiente et complectente Filium Dei.

29 In two places the resurrection is said to come “through” Jesus Christ. NHC 1,4 43,36; 48,19

30 NHC 1,4 44,21-26

31 NHC 1,4 46,14-20

32 NHC 1,4 44, 3-39.

77 of death.”33 In this way, the incarnation, along with the death and resurrection of the Savior, was a necessary step in the process of redemption, rather than a notion of being saved by one’s spiritual nature.34 But, the question that one must ask is: how exactly has Jesus’ humanity has effectuated this restoration to the fullness?35

The text explains that it is “through” (ϩⲓⲧⲟⲟⲧϥ// διἀ)36 being a human that he does them. That is, his flesh is not merely incidental to his accomplishment of this task, but rather his flesh is instrumental to it. The instrumental nature of the flesh in the salvation of humanity suggests that the flesh is not an antagonistic substance that must be escaped or rejected because of its nature.

Limits

Despite this affirmation of the value of the flesh Christologically and soteriologically, EpRheg notes that the flesh does have inherent limitations. These limitations are not moral, but physiological. The problem of death, which the author calls “the law of nature,”37 is the problem of the body itself. In a question-and- answer dialogue, the author of the EpRheg answers some “questions,” perhaps

33 NHC 1,4 46,18-19

34 Thomassen’s suggests this text displays Eastern Valentinian notions of “mutual exchange” in Meyer and Funk, eds., The Nag Hammadi Scriptures, 51.

35 Peel asserts, “This statement is the first unambiguous clue that the author is a Gnostic teacher.” Peel, "The Treatise on the Resurrection," 153. Layton suggests, “As incarnate, he could deliver the teaching necessary for the νοῦς to detach itself from flesh and return to its metaphysical home.” Layton, Gnostic Treatise on Resurrection, 52. However, the views expressed here about the necessity for Christ’s incarnation in order to bring about the “fullness” are not difficult to derive from canonical sources. See, for instance, the use of apokatastasis in Acts 3:21. Such an idea of restoration to the pleroma is found in Eph 1:9-10; Col 1:19-20. Christ’s role in bringing the fullness is discussed in Eph 4:9-13.

36 Crum 428b. W. E. Crum, A Coptic Dictionary, Ancient Language Resources (Eugene, Or.: Wipf and Stock Pub., 2005).

37 NHC 1,4 44,20-21. ⲁⲡⲛⲟⲙⲟⲥ ⲛ̄ⲧⲫⲩⲥⲓⲥ ⲉⲉⲓϫⲟⲩ ⲛ̄ⲇⲉ ⲙ̄ⲙⲁϥ ϫⲉ ⲡⲙⲟⲩ

78 posed by Rheginos himself, or perhaps simply to answer common objections to his view.

ⲉⲓϣⲡⲉ ⲛⲉⲕϣⲟⲟⲡ ⲛ̄ⲅⲁⲣ ⲉⲛ ϩⲛ̄ ⲥⲁⲣⲝ ⲁⲕϫⲓ ⲥⲁⲣⲝ ⲛ̄ⲧⲁⲣⲉⲕⲉⲓ ⲁϩⲟⲩⲛ ⲁⲡⲓⲕⲟⲥⲙⲟⲥ ⲉⲧⲃⲉ ⲉⲩ ⲛ̄ⲕⲛⲁϫⲓ ⲉⲛ ⲛ̄ⲧⲥⲁⲣⲝ ⲉⲕϣⲁⲛⲃⲱⲕ ⲁϩⲣⲏⲓ̈ ⲁϩⲟⲩⲛ ⲁⲡⲁⲓⲱⲛ ⲡⲉⲧⲥⲁⲧⲡ̄ ⲁⲧⲥⲁⲣⲝ ⲡⲉⲧϣⲟⲟⲡ ⲛⲉⲥ ⲛ̄ⲁⲓⲧⲓⲟⲥ ⲙ̄ⲡⲱⲱⲛϩ̄ ⲡⲉⲧϣⲱⲡⲉ ⲉⲧⲃⲏⲧⲕ̄ ⲙⲏ ⲙ̄ⲡⲱⲕ ⲉⲛ ⲡⲉ ⲡⲉⲧⲉ ⲡⲱⲕ ⲡⲉ ⲙⲏ ⲛ̄ϥϣⲟⲟⲡ ⲉⲛ ⲛⲙ̄ⲙⲉⲕ̣ ⲁⲗⲗⲁ ⲉⲕⲛ̄ⲛⲓⲙⲁ ⲉⲩ ⲡⲉ ⲉⲧⲕ̣ϣⲁⲁⲧ ⲙ̄ⲙⲁϥ ⲡⲉⲉⲓ ⲡⲉ ⲛ̄ⲧⲁⲕⲣ̄ ⲥⲡⲟⲩⲇⲁⲍⲉ ⲁⲥⲃⲟ ⲁⲣⲁϥ ⲡⲭⲟⲣⲓⲟⲛ ⲙ̄ⲡⲥⲱⲙⲁ ⲉⲧⲉ ⲡⲉⲉⲓ ⲡⲉ ⲧⲙⲛ̄ⲧϩⲗ̄ⲗⲟ ⲁⲩⲱ ⲕϣⲟⲟⲡ ⲛ̄ⲧⲉⲕⲟ “Even though you did not exist in flesh (ϩⲛ̄ ⲥⲁⲣⲝ), you took flesh when you entered this world. Why is it, then, that you will not take your flesh when you ascend into the eternal realm (ⲁⲓⲱⲛ)?” That which is better (ⲡⲉⲧⲥⲁⲧⲡ) than flesh is the cause of life (ⲛ̄ⲁⲓⲧⲓⲟⲥ ⲙ̄ⲡⲱⲱⲛϩ̄) for the flesh. “What came into being because of you, isn’t it yours? Does not what is yours exist with you?” But while you are here, what is it that are you lacking? (It is this that that you have attempted to learn about.) The afterbirth of the body (ⲭⲟⲣⲓⲟⲛ), namely, old age, and you are perishable.38

Here, the author is asked point-blank about the flesh, and is thus given an opportunity to make his case against the resurrection of the flesh. These questions are not rhetorical, posed by the author, but questions to which he seeks to provide an answer.39 One might expect that he would dismiss the flesh as a wicked substance, or as a prison, or in other derogatory, even sexualized terms, as Ps. Justin reports that his opponents had done. Instead, the author suggests that the flesh is lacking something. Rheginos has been attempting to learn about what the flesh lacks, and his teacher is ready to explain it to him.40 The author answers his own

38 NHC 1,4 47,4-19

39 Peel, "The Treatise on the Resurrection," 178-81.

40 Some have suggested that this phrase introduces the following sentence, so that what Rheginos is attempting to learn about is that old age is the afterbirth of the body. The problem with this

79 question about what is lacking: “the afterbirth of the body, namely, old age.”41

Though it seems that the body is indeed a gain over what the human being had before mortality, in reality the body suffers from a structural lack inherent in the flesh that is aging and death. The “afterbirth of the body” (ⲭⲟⲣⲓⲟⲛ // χόριον) is that which is left behind, such as the placenta. Just as one leaves behind the placenta after one leaves the womb, so one will leave behind the elderly body as one transitions into the resurrection. After old age, the author notes, “you are perishable.” In the resurrection, the fullness fills the “lack” that is marked by this flesh’s aging and perishability.42

Although described as a lack, the flesh does not receive a wholly negative evaluation. The flesh lacks something, in that it is susceptible to old age and to perishability, but these are simply limitations, not condemnations.43 Indeed, the author seems to go out of his way to clarify that he is not condemning the flesh in

interpretation however, is that the author’s style generally concludes a section with “this is” or “these are,” rather than introducing a new section with this phrase. See for example, 45,12-13; 45,39-40; 47, 29-30; 49,6.

41 Layton translates ⲡⲭⲟⲣⲓⲟⲛ ⲙ̄ⲡⲥⲱⲙⲁ as “bodily envelope,” which he says the text clarifies as “old age.” In this view, the body itself is the ⲭⲟⲣⲓⲟⲛ, or “‘container’ of the inner man.” Layton, Gnostic Treatise on Resurrection, 83. But the text does not say that the body is the ⲭⲟⲣⲓⲟⲛ, but that it is “old age.” Layton admits that such a translation is difficult to reconcile with his theory, and rephrases it as “you inquire about the bodily envelope such as it is in old age.” Layton, Gnostic Treatise on Resurrection, 84. In a later edition, he glosses this passage: “The text is corrupt here obscuring the author’s rebuttal of the argument summarized in the preceding paragraph. A few words must have inadvertently been omitted.” Bentley Layton, The Gnostic Scriptures: A New Translation with Annotations and Introductions, 1st British ed. (London: SCM Press, 1987), 322n47f. It is true that this phrase does not form a complete sentence. This becomes a problem for Layton who attempts to make it into a continuation of the questions posed back to Rheginos by the author. If, however, this phrase is to take to be an answer to the question of what is lacking in the flesh, the difficulty is alleviated. Peel, "The Treatise on the Resurrection," 182.

42 NHC 1,4 49,5-6. ϣⲧⲁ

43 Here, the “body” (ⲥⲱⲙⲁ) seems to be used indistinguishably from the “flesh,” since in answer to the question about why the flesh doesn’t continue, the author answers that it is because of the limitations of the body. At death, one takes off the body. NHC 1,4 47,36

80 pointing out that it grows old and dies. The resurrected self and the mortal self are hierarchically ordered as one would expect, but this hierarchy does not constitute an antagonistic dualism.

ⲟⲩⲛⲧⲉⲕ ⲙ̄ⲙⲉⲩ ⲛ̄ⲧⲁⲡⲟⲩⲥⲓⲁ ⲛ̄ⲟⲩϩⲏⲩ ⲛ̄ⲕⲛⲁϯ ⲛ̄ⲅⲁⲣ ⲉⲛ ⲙ̄ⲡⲉⲧⲥⲁⲧⲡ ⲉⲕϣⲁⲛⲃⲱⲕ ⲡⲉⲑⲁⲩ ⲟⲩⲛⲧⲉϥ ⲙ̄ⲙⲉⲩ ⲙ̄ⲡϭⲱϫⲃ̄ ⲁⲗⲗⲁ ⲟⲩⲛ̄ ϩⲙⲁⲧ ⲁⲣⲁϥ ⲙⲛ̄ ⲗⲁⲁⲩⲉ ϭⲉ ⲥⲱⲧ ⲙ̄ⲙⲁⲛ ⲁⲃⲁⲗ ⲛ̄ⲛⲓⲙⲁ ⲁⲗⲗⲁ ⲡⲧⲏⲣϥ̄ ⲉⲧⲉ ⲁⲛⲁⲛ ⲡⲉ ⲧⲛ̄ⲟⲩⲁϫ ⲁϩⲛ̄ϫⲓ ⲙ̄ⲡⲟⲩϫⲉⲉⲓ ϫⲓⲛⲣ ⲁⲣⲏϫϥ̄ ϩⲁ ⲑⲁⲏ ⲙⲁⲣⲛ̄ⲙⲉⲩⲉ ⲛϯϩⲉⲉⲥ ⲙⲁⲣⲛ̄ϫⲓ ⲛ̄ϯϩⲉⲉⲥ

You have this absence as profit, for you will not give up what is choice when you leave. That which is inferior (ⲡⲉⲑⲁⲩ) has less, but there is grace for it. Nothing redeems us from this world, but we are of the all, and we are saved. We have been saved from start to finish. Let us think about it in this way; let us accept it in this way.44

The author states, “you will not give up what is choice (ⲙ̄ⲡⲉⲧⲥⲁⲧⲡ).”45 The author defines a few lines earlier that “that which is more choice (̄ⲡⲉⲧⲥⲁⲧⲡ) than the flesh”46 is what causes life for the flesh. The choice part continues on after death and the absence from the inferior part, or the flesh, is counted as a “profit,” not as having lost something in the process.

This hierarchical ordering of choice and inferior parts may seem dismissive of the flesh, yet the author is quick to add, “but there is grace for it.”47 Some have

44 NHC 1,4 47,19-30

45 As Peel notes, this passage is a crux interpretationis. Peel, "The Treatise on the Resurrection," 183. He notes that the majority opinion holds that the “choice” part refers to the spiritual self, while the “inferior” part refers to the body or the flesh. Layton, however, suggests that this is a “mistranslation,” and puts it: “You count absence—or, in another sense of the word, deficit—as your profit. For you will not pay back the superior element when you depart. The inferior element takes a loss; but what it owes is gratitude.” Layton, Gnostic Treatise on Resurrection, 25. He suggests that this relies on accounting and fiscal imagery Layton, Gnostic Treatise on Resurrection, 86-88.. I agree with Peel that “Such an interpretation seem to render a fairly simple and straightforward statement unduly complex.” Peel, "The Treatise on the Resurrection," 185.

46 NHC 1,4 47,9-10

47 There are some suggestions that the phrase “there is grace for it” cannot refer to “that which is inferior.” Layton’s attempt to read this text through a strictly dualistic lens forces him to resist any positive evaluation of the flesh, such that the phrase “there is grace for it” is rendered, “what it owes is

81 suggested that the antecedent here is the soul, and that there is grace for the soul upon its release from the body, or that the body owes gratidute to the soul for its very existence.48 However, this reading does not give enough force to the conjunctive “but,” which softens the blow to the corruptible, inferior body, by insisting that for the body there is still grace. Just what is this grace is difficult to say, but such a statement is meant to prevent Rheginos from concluding that this hierarchy suggests that the corruptible body does not receive any grace from God.

History and Eternity

The author’s evaluation of the flesh as lesser, compared to the “choice” part of the person, suggests an ontological hierarchy of substances. At the same time, the insistence that “there is grace” for the flesh suggest that the flesh is not seen as an impediment in and of itself to spiritual progress. This attempt to hold the flesh as both lesser, but also the recipient of grace is evident in the two ways that the author understands the resurrection. First, he sees the resurrection as an event that explains what exactly will arise, and second, as manifestation of the believer in this life. There is some tension between these two accounts.49 With respect to the

gratitude.” Layton, Gnostic Treatise on Resurrection, 155-56. Layton’s suggestion that this is the only possible translation has been challenged as “arbitrary and unsubstantiated.” Peel, "The Treatise on the Resurrection," 185. There remains a problem of understanding what it means to say there is grace for that which is inferior. Does it mean that there is “thanks” that it decays, that there is “grace” for the interior self that survives, or that there is grace for the body because it houses the choice part? The suggestion that the “it” is actually the “choice” part is unsustainable. The assumption that the flesh or body cannot possibly have grace of its own merit is overly determinative of the interpretation of this passage, and ignores the positive aspects of the flesh and body emphasized in this text. See the section on “The Flesh” below.

48 Layton, Gnostic Treatise on Resurrection, 88.

49 As Thomassen explains: “Through [the Savior’s] resurrection, [the elect] are manifested as having themselves been resurrected.” Thomassen, The Spiritual Seed, 85.

82 Savior’s resurrection, it is a historical event that happened after his death. With respect to the elect, they come to know that they are already resurrected, which they might not have otherwise perceived. The text declares that “you already have the resurrection”50 and “we have received salvation from end to end.”51 Thomassen explains, “while from one point of view the resurrection of the Savior is an act that effectively brings about their resurrection, from another point of view it simply reveals the identities of the elect as essentially spiritual, pre-existent beings—their established resurrectedness, as it were.”52

The body does not continue on, but rather something more rarified continues on. Though the text resists a single definition of exactly what it is, anthropologically speaking, that continues on, in one place it explains, “The thought (ⲡⲙⲉⲩⲉ) of those who are saved shall not perish. The mind (ⲡⲛⲟⲩⲥ) of those who have known him

(ⲛ̄ⲛⲉⲧⲁϩⲥⲟⲩⲱⲱⲛϥ) shall not perish.”53 Though this statement is made in the context of claims about how one can know God, rather than a deliberate answer to the question of what continues on, it is also the clearest statement the author makes with regard to what exactly is raised in the resurrection.54 The nous at the very least may be the “choice” part.

50 NHC I,4 49,15-16

51 NHC I,4 47,24-29

52 Thomassen, The Spiritual Seed, 85.

53 NHC 1,4 46,23-24. ⲛ̄ϥⲛⲁⲧⲉⲕⲟ ⲉⲛ ⲛ̄ϭⲓ ⲡⲙⲉⲩⲉ ⲛ̄ⲛⲉⲧⲟⲩⲁϫ ⲛ̄ϥⲛⲁⲧⲉⲕⲟ ⲉⲛ ⲛ̄ϭⲓ ⲡⲛⲟⲩⲥ ⲛ̄ⲛⲉⲧⲁϩⲥⲟⲩⲱⲱⲛϥ̄.

54 Though Layton is the most emphatic defender that the nous alone is raised, he also admits with regard to the claim that the “parts” are raised that, “the plural in this passage may indicate that soul and its parts rather than the nous alone is spoken of; or the usage may be loose…. In any case, our author never really clarifies whether soul, or less inclusively, mind is the faculty to be saved.” Layton, Gnostic Treatise on Resurrection, 91-92.

83 The lack of the flesh in the resurrection permits one to be resurrected immediately after death. For those who are saved, where would these souls reside?

EpRheg explains that, “Some inquire further and want to know whether one will be saved immediately, if the body is left behind. Let there be no doubt about this.”55

Without the body, the resurrection can still occur immediately for those who are saved. The notion that the resurrection is a return to a previous state can be found in this passage: “Nothing then redeems us from this world, but the all, which we are, we are saved. We have received salvation from end to end.”56 Here, the identification of the “All” (ⲡⲧⲏⲣϥ) is with the Elect, rather than the “fullness.”57 In a previous mention of the All, it is said, “But the ‘All’ is what is embraced. [Before] it came into being, it was existing.”58 In a way, the resurrection is a return to this premortal state.

The true reality of this choice part that is resurrected is not phantasmatic.

While Ps. Justin accused his opponents’ view of the spiritual resurrection of being an

“illusion” (φαντασία),59 EpRheg explicitly counters such a characterization.60 He contrasts the changeability of the world with the eternal resurrection:

55 NHC 1,4 47,30-37

56 NHC 1,4 47,24-29

57 Peuch and Quispell argue that the “All” may be the Pleroma in Malinine, De Resurrectione = Epistula Ad Rheginum: Codex Jung F. Xxii R-F. Xxv V (P. 43-50), 33., though a majority of scholars believe that it refers to the Elect Layton, Gnostic Treatise on Resurrection, 76, Peel, "The Treatise on the Resurrection," 177.

58 NHC 1,4 46,38-47,1. ⲡⲧⲏⲣϥ̄ ⲛ̄ⲇⲉ ⲡⲉⲧⲟⲩⲉⲙⲁϩⲧⲉ ⲙ̄ⲙⲁϥ ⲙ̣ⲡ̣ⲉϥϣⲱⲡⲉ ⲛⲉϥϣⲟⲟⲡ ⲡⲉ

59 Ps. Justin, DR 2.14

60 NHC 1,4 48,10-11; 48,15; 48,21-23

84 ⲉⲧⲃⲉ ⲉⲩ ⲛ̄ⲇⲉ ⲉⲉⲓⲧⲁⲙⲟ ⲙ̄ⲙⲁⲕ ⲛ̄ⲧⲉⲩⲛⲟⲩ ⲛⲉⲧⲁⲁⲛϩ̄ ⲥⲉⲛⲁⲙⲟⲩ ⲡⲱⲥ ⲉⲩⲁⲛϩ̄ ϩⲛ̄ ⲟⲩⲫⲁⲛⲧⲁⲥⲓⲁ ⲛ̄ⲣⲙ̄ⲁⲁⲉⲓ ⲁⲩⲣ̄ ϩⲏⲕⲉ ⲁⲩⲱ ⲛⲛ̄ⲣⲁⲉⲓ ⲁⲩϣⲣ̄ϣⲱⲣⲟⲩ ⲡⲧⲏⲣϥ̄ ϣⲁⲣⲉⲃϣⲃ̄ⲉⲓⲉ ⲟⲩⲫⲁⲛⲧⲁⲥⲓⲁ ⲡⲉ ⲡⲕⲟⲥⲙⲟⲥ ϫⲉⲕⲁⲥⲉ ϭⲉ ⲛⲓⲣ̄ ⲕⲁⲧⲁⲗⲁⲗⲉⲓ ⲥⲁ ⲛϩⲃⲏⲩⲉ ⲁⲡⲉϩⲟⲩⲟ ⲁⲗⲗⲁ ⲧⲁⲛⲁⲥⲧⲁⲥⲓⲥ ⲙⲛ̄ⲧⲉⲥ ⲙ̄ⲙⲉⲩ ⲙ̄ⲡⲓⲥⲙⲁⲧ ⲛ̄ϯⲙⲓⲛⲉ ϫⲉ ⲧⲙⲏⲉ ⲧⲉ ⲡⲉ ⲡⲉⲧⲁϩⲉ ⲁⲣⲉⲧϥ̄

But what am I telling you? Now those who are living will die.

How do they live in an illusion?

The rich have become poor.

The kings have been overthrown.

Everything changes. Let me not rail at things so much! The world is an illusion. The resurrection is different. It is real. It stands firm…61

The resurrection is firm and real, while things change in the world. The suggestion that the resurrection is not an “illusion,” but that the cosmos, or world, is an illusion, reveals something about how the author views reality. What is “true” and what is an

“illusion” correspond to the differences between the eternal realm, of which the resurrection is a part, and the temporal realm, of which the world takes part. The rich and kings who lose their status illustrate the transitoriness of the world and death.

In addition to the choice part, this passage suggests that even the “living will die.” The “living” serves as a reference to the elect and resurrected persons, 62 meaning that those who are resurrected in the present will still die in their bodies.

61 NHC 1,4 48,20-33

62 Cf. NHC 1,4 45,35

85 The author asks in disbelief: how is it, then, that the elect are to live in this world?63

This understanding that even the elect, or chosen, will die is important to register along with the belief in the resurrection that has already occurred in some sense.

Here, the problem with the cosmos is that it changes and dies, not that it is sexualized or rooted in sin.

If those who are resurrected can mortally die, it must mean that it is possible to be resurrected even now, before mortal death. The “living” are those who have already been resurrected. If they can die, the resurrection is more than something that happens after death, but something that begins during this life. Besides being a future event, the resurrection also consists of the manifestation of the elect and their transformation in this life. The EpRheg offers an account of the resurrection as a present transformation, as well as a future event.

ⲁⲩⲱ ⲡⲟⲩⲱⲛϩ̄ ⲁⲃⲁⲗ ⲙ̄ⲡⲉⲧϣⲟⲟⲡ ⲡⲉ ⲁⲩⲱ ⲡϣⲃ̄ⲉⲓⲉ ⲡⲉ ⲛ̄ⲛ̄ϩⲃⲏⲩⲉ ⲁⲩⲱ ⲟⲩⲙⲉⲧⲁⲃⲟⲗⲏ ⲁϩⲟⲩⲛ ⲁⲩⲙⲛ̄ⲧⲃⲣ̄ⲣⲉ ⲧⲙⲛ̄ⲧⲁⲧⲧⲉⲕⲟ ⲛ̄ⲅⲁⲣ [ⲥϩⲉϯⲉ] [[ⲁϩⲣⲏⲓ]] ⲁⲡⲓⲧⲛ̄ ⲁⲭⲙ̄ ⲡⲧ̣ⲉ̣ⲕ̣ⲟ ⲁⲩⲱ ⲡⲟⲩⲁⲉⲓⲛ ϥϩⲉϯⲉ ⲁⲡⲓⲧⲛ̄ ⲁϫⲙ̄ ⲡⲕⲉⲕⲉⲓ ⲉϥⲱⲙⲛ̄ⲕ ⲙ̄ⲙⲁϥ ⲁϣⲱ ⲡⲡⲗⲏⲣⲱⲙⲁ ϥ̄ϫⲱⲕ ⲁⲃⲁⲗ ⲙ̄ⲡⲉϣⲧⲁ ⲛⲉⲉⲓ ⲛⲉ ⲛ̄ⲥⲩⲙⲃⲟⲗⲟⲛ ⲙⲛ̄ ⲙ̄ⲛⲧⲁⲛⲧⲛ̄ ⲛ̄ⲧⲁⲛⲁⲥⲧⲁⲥⲓⲥ

[The resurrection] is the revelation of what is, and the transformation of things, and a transition into newness. For imperishability descends upon the perishable (cf. 1 Cor 15:53-54); the light flows down upon the darkness, swallowing it up; and the Pleroma fills up the deficiency. These are the symbols and images of the resurrection.64

Here, “swallowing” is related to transformation and transition in terms of three other actions: descending upon, flowing down upon, and filling up. This metaphorical language is described as the “symbols and images” of the resurrection.

63 Layton, Gnostic Treatise on Resurrection, 159-60.

64 NHC 1,4 48,34-49,8

86 Each is meant to explain how the “transition into newness” occurs.65 Light swallows up darkness and the “fullness” fills up the deficiency.66 Here, the language is not at all about leaving behind, or escaping from, but rather a fulfillment and an enveloping. This swallowing is “transformation” and “transition,” not only destruction.67 As the author soon explains, transformation and manifestation in this life would then include a period of “resurrection” while in the mortal flesh.

Spiritual Resurrection While in the Flesh

The condition of a period of “resurrection” while in the mortal flesh suggests that the author does not see the flesh as corrupted to such a degree that it is

65 Cf., Athen DR 12.9 εἶδος γάρ τι µεταβολῆς καὶ πάντων ὗστατον ἡ ἀνάστασις ἥ τε τῶν κατ᾽ἐκεῖνον τὸν χρόνον περιόντων ἔτι πρὸς τὸ κρεῖττον µεταβολή. “The resurrection is a species of change (µεταβολή), and the last of all, and a change for the better of what still remains in existence at that time.” See also Layton, Gnostic Treatise on Resurrection, 99. Contra Peel, "The Treatise on the Resurrection," 200. I see no reason to assume that this “newness” means “new flesh.”

66 The whole “Valentinian” cosmogonic myth of “Pleromatic deficiency,” or “the descent (fall) of pneumatics into the world of flesh and corruption resulted in a ‘Deficiency’…in the fullness of the Godhead” appears to be found in this passage. Peel, "The Treatise on the Resurrection," 201. The lines NHC 1,4 46,35-38 “Strong is the system of the Pleroma; small is that which broke loose [and] became [the] world” may come from a Valentinian hymn Peel, The Epistle to Rheginos: A Valentinian Letter on the Resurrection: Introduction, Translation, Analysis and Exposition, 81-82. Peel argues that in this cosmology, the highest God and his emanations occupy the Pleroma, and that the “small” part which “broke loose” could be an allusion to the fall of Sophia. A third mention of the Pleroma indicates that a “restoration” to the Pleroma occurss through the Savior (44,30-33). These three references to the Pleroma indicate that something broke loose, and that there is a deficiency in the Pleroma, which must be restored.

67 The term “swallowed” to describe the process of the resurrection is taken from Paul (1 Cor 15:54; 2 Cor 5:4).67 He uses the verb “to swallow” to describe the Savior’s conquering of death, and also how the resurrected body relates to the mortal body.67 In 1 Cor 15:54, “death is swallowed up in victory,” is an adapted quotation of Isa 25:8, and the language of victory indicates a situation in which death is vanquished and destroyed. In 2 Cor 5:4, however, “so that what is mortal may be swallowed up by life,” has a slightly different sense. Here, the “mortal” that is “swallowed up by life” is not destroyed, but something more is given, as the previous phrase explains, “we wish not to be unclothed but to be further clothed.”67 Here, the mixed metaphor of being further clothed but also swallowed suggests a transformative, rather than destructive sense. What emerges are different uses of the term to make different points, which turn out to be the same points he sees Paul making. It should be noted that “swallowing” is not necessarily an act of destruction for many early Christian authors. The mixing of both a present transformation as well as a future completion of the resurrection can be found in other authors who speak of both swallowing and a spiritual resurrection. Iren. AH V.13.3; AH V.5.2; Tert. De Res. Mort., 54.1.

87 incommensurate with a state of resurrection, even if it does not belong to that final state. Specifically, the instructions given to Rheginos for how he can receive the resurrection in mortality include bodily practices.

ϩⲱⲥⲧⲉ ⲙ̄ⲡⲱⲣ ⲁⲣ̄ ⲛⲟⲉⲓ ⲙⲉⲣⲓⲕⲱⲥ ⲱ ⲣⲏⲅⲓⲛⲉ ⲟⲩⲧⲉ ⲙ̄ⲡⲣ̄ⲣ̄ ⲡⲟⲗⲓⲧⲉⲩⲉⲥⲑⲁⲓ ⲕⲁⲧⲁ ⲧⲉⲉⲓⲥⲁⲣⲝ ⲉⲧⲃⲉ ⲧⲙⲛ̄ⲧⲟⲩⲉⲉⲓ ⲁⲗⲗⲁ ⲁⲙⲟⲩ ⲁⲃⲁⲗ ϩⲛ̄ ⲛ̄ⲙⲉⲣⲓⲥⲙⲟⲥ ⲙⲛ̄ ⲛ̄ⲙⲣ̄ⲣⲉ ⲁⲩⲱ ⲏⲇⲏ ⲟⲩⲛⲧⲉⲕ ⲙ̄ⲙⲉⲩ ⲛ̄ⲧⲁⲛⲁⲥⲧⲁⲥⲓⲥ….ⲉⲧⲃⲉ ⲉⲩ ϭⲉ ϯⲕⲱⲉ ⲁⲃⲁⲗ ⲛ̄ⲥⲁ68 ⲧⲉⲕⲙⲛ̄ⲧⲁⲧⲣ̄ ⲅⲩⲙⲛⲁⲍⲉ ⲥ̄ϣⲉ ⲁⲡⲟⲩⲉⲉⲓ ⲡⲟⲩⲉⲉⲓ ⲁⲧⲣⲉϥⲣ̄ ⲁⲥⲕⲉⲓ ⲛ̄ⲟⲩⲁⲡⲥ̄ ⲛ̄ϩⲉⲉⲥ ⲁⲩⲱ ⲛ̣̄ⲥⲉⲃⲁⲗϥ̄ ⲁⲃⲁⲗ ⲙ̄ⲡⲓⲥⲧⲟⲓⲭⲉⲓⲟⲛ ϫⲉⲕⲁⲥⲉ ⲛ̄ϥⲣ̄ ⲡⲗⲁⲛⲁ ⲁⲗⲗⲁ ⲉϥⲛⲁϫⲓ ⲙ̄ⲙⲁϥ ⲟⲩⲁⲉⲉⲧϥ̄ ⲛ̄ⲕⲉⲥⲁⲡ ⲡⲉⲉⲓ ⲉⲧϣⲣⲡ̄ ⲛ̄ϣⲟⲟⲡ

Therefore, do not think in part (ⲙⲉⲣⲓⲕⲱⲥ), O Rheginos, nor conduct life according to this flesh because of unanimity, but flee from the divisions (ⲛ̄ⲙⲉⲣⲓⲥⲙⲟⲥ) and the fetters, and already you have the resurrection…. If you have the resurrection but continue as if you will die—and yet that one knows he has died—why then do I forgive? Only because of your lack of training (ⲁⲧⲣ̄ ⲅⲩⲙⲛⲁⲍⲉ). Each person needs to practice (ⲣ̄ ⲁⲥⲕⲉⲓ) ways of being released from this element (ⲥⲧⲟⲓⲭⲉⲓⲟⲛ) so that he does not err (ⲣ̄ ⲡⲗⲁⲛⲁ), but shall himself receive what was at first.69

Here, Rheginos is instructed to do three things: 1) not to think in part, that is, incompletely; 2) not to live in conformity with the flesh because of unanimity; and

3) the flee from divisions and fetters. As a result of these things, he is told, “already you have the resurrection.” Here, there seems to be a tension in this thinking when

Rheginos is told not to live “in accordance with the flesh,” but at the same time is

68 Crum 314b: εί µή Crum, A Coptic Dictionary.

69 NHC I,4 49,9-37. Two very different translation traditions exist for this text. First, Peel: “For if he who will die knows about himself that he will die—even if he spends many years in this life, he is brought to this—why not consider yourself as risen and (already) brought to this? If you have the resurrection but continue as if you are to die—and yet that one knows that he has died—why, then, do I ignore your lack of exercise? It is fitting for each one to practice (ⲣ̄ ⲁⲥⲕⲉⲓ) in a number of ways, and he shall be released from this Element that he may not fall into error but shall himself receive again what at first was.” Malcolm Lee Peel, "The Treatise on the Resurrection," in The Coptic Gnostic Library: A Complete Edition of the Nag Hammadi Codices, ed. James McConkey Robinson (Leiden: Brill, 2000), 155-57. Layton’s more imaginative translation sees this passage addressing different aspects of the human being: “For if the dying part (flesh) ‘knows itself,’ and knows that since it is moribund it is rushing towards this outcome (death) even if it has lived many years in the present life, why do you (the spirit) not examine your own self and see that you have arisen? And you are rushing towards this outcome (separation from the body) since you possess the resurrection.” Layton, Gnostic Treatise on Resurrection, 31.

88 told that while living in mortality, as an enfleshed person, he may “already have the resurrection.” Here, the resurrection is given even in the mortal flesh.

The author has already clarified that the resurrection occurs after death.70

To claim that believers already have the resurrection is to say that they shall receive the fullness of the resurrection, not necessarily that they have already been resurrected fully. Rather than an “over-realized eschatology,”71 this text presents a resurrection that has been received in part, but will be completed after death.

Thomassen notes the tension in the EpRheg between a notion of the resurrection as a future event occurring after death, and the idea of the resurrection as a present reality manifest by Christ. In this way, he explains, “there exists both an ‘already’ and a ‘not yet’” with respect to the resurrection.72

But what about the teaching not to live “according to the flesh”? This passage need not be understood as a dualistic condemnation of the flesh since it belongs not only to Pauline rhetoric about the flesh, but also that of Irenaeus. It is clear that Paul was an important authority for the author of EpRheg, not only because of the numerous instances of shared language, but also because of a mixed-quotation from the “Apostle.”73 Indeed, as does Ps. Justin, the author of EpRheg uses the same term

70 NHC 1,4 47,30-48,2; 45,30-46,2

71 Peel, "The Treatise on the Resurrection," 206.

72 Meyer and Funk, eds., The Nag Hammadi Scriptures, 51.

73 NHC 1,4 45.25-28. He invokes the “Apostle” explicitly in this section, and the language throughout is saturated with references. There are literally dozens of references and allusions. Craig A. Evans et al., Nag Hammadi Texts and the Bible: A Synopsis and Index (Leiden: Brill, 1993), 4-47.. When he quotes the Apostle: “We suffered with him, and we arose with him, and we went to heaven with him,” he offers an amalgam of Rom 8:17 and Eph 2:5-6. Peel, "The Treatise on the Resurrection," 162.. He notes that others have suggested Col 2:12-13; 3:1-4; Rom 6:3-11; 2 Cor 4:10-13; 2 Tim 2:11-12. Furthermore, the terms “spiritual,” “psychic,” and “fleshly” are Pauline categorizations of people in 1

89 πολιτεύομαι as Paul in Phil 1:27 (and 3:20), who instructed his readers to “live in a manner worthy of the gospel of Christ,” and “to stand with one mind for the faith of the gospel and in no way [be] intimidated by your opponents.” The author of

EpRheg offers similar encouragement to live well, not to be divided, and to avoid contentious divisions in the community. With respect to the body and the flesh, in

Romans Paul refers to the “body of sin” (6:6) and that “those who live according to the flesh set their minds on the things of the flesh” (8:8), and “if you live according to the flesh, you will die” (8:13).

Irenaeus, too, holds a similar view of the “flesh,” in spite of his accusation that he loves it while his opponents hate it. He argues that, “the soul, which sometimes follows the spirit, it is raised up by it, and sometimes it sympathizes with the flesh, and falls into earthly desires (terrenas concupiscentias // γεώδεις ἐπιθυμίας).”74

Irenaeus makes a distinction between the substance of the flesh, which he sees as neutral, and the quality of the flesh, or fleshiness, which he instructs his readers to avoid. While this precise language is not used by the author of EpRheg, we may see a similar distinction made when the author speaks of the substance of the flesh as a mere “lack,” and the quality of the flesh as something with which one ought not live

Cor. Peel, "The Treatise on the Resurrection," 166. Peel sees the spiritual resurrection as a “mode” of resurrection that “destroys” the other kinds. “Whereas Paul applies the adjectives to the type of resurrection body, our author uses them of the mode of resurrection.” This distinction, however, is never explained. He admits that in so doing, he is actually arguing against other kinds of resurrected bodies: “he implicitly denies the views of those who maintain the sole survival of the immortal “soul” (e.g., representatives of Middle Platonism, such as Celsus in Origen’s Con. Cels. 2.5-70; 5.14; or Porphyry, fr. 34 and 92), as well as those who would affirm resurrection of crudely literal “flesh” (e.g., representatives of the Great Church like Athenagoras, Res., or Tertullian, De res. mort.).” Indeed, even the question of “wearing him” recalls a theme in Paul. Odes of Solomon 7:4; GosPhil 77.22; GosMary 15.5-8; Tri. Trac. 87.2-6. Even the question of language about visibility and invisibility as it relates to the resurrected body can be traced to Paul (2 Cor 4:11-16).

74 Iren. AH V.9.1-2 (SC 153:106-110).

90 in conformity. The author’s injunction not to live according to the flesh is by no means outside of the discourse of so-called “orthodox” views of the flesh.

With respect to the “fetters,” Layton has seen this is as a direct reference to the notion that the “body is a prison, the flesh a chain binding the soul to lower things.”75 Peel, however, suggests that “divisions” and “fetters” bear closer resemblance to the use of these terms by Ignatius, who speaks of the divisions of heresy and the fetters of wickedness.76 In this reading, these terms are not elaborations on the defects of the flesh, but rather begins the instructions about the kinds of practices Rheginos should pursue, in order to realize resurrection.

Against this overly-antagonistic understanding of the flesh as a prison, the author admits to the possibility that “already you have the resurrection” while in the mortal flesh. Though commentators suggests that this is simply at the noetic level,77 and that the exercises recommended are cognitive understandings of the relationship to death,78 the usage of “r-askei” and “r-gymazei” may also suggest more

75 Layton, Gnostic Treatise on Resurrection, 106.

76 Peel, "The Treatise on the Resurrection," 204. Cf. Ign. Phil 2.1; 3.1; 7.2; 8.1; Smyr 7.2; Eph 19.3. Phil 8.1 uses both terms together.

77 Layton on spiritual resurrection: “…the sole function of the mind, nous, is cogitation. By an act of faith, the nous can direct its thought totally away from body and totally towards the truth. This amounts to total separation from the body already. Physical death is thereupon no more than the physical expression of what will already have happened.” Layton, Gnostic Treatise on Resurrection, 127.When the EpRheg suggests that one can be spiritually resurrected while in the mortal flesh before death, Layton suggests that “by spiritual resurrection the author means a kind of bodiliness.” Layton, Gnostic Treatise on Resurrection, 126. Yet, this exclusively cognitive view of the spiritual resurrection is troubled by the injunction to “practice” and “exercise” in order to realize the resurrection. Layton admits, “this imperative presumably means something like what it does in some other dualist philosophies, achievement of passionlessness and cogitation of divine cognitive objects: but ascesis might be thought to entail also abstinence or taboos of one sort or another.” (Layton, Gnostic Treatise on Resurrection, 126.) This admission of a possible bodily askesis suggests that the body is still a tool in receiving salvation, even if that means disciplining it.

78 Peel, "The Treatise on the Resurrection," 209.

91 bodily exercises than mere contemplation. If the practices of the body create the conditions for realizing the resurrection in the present, this view of the body may be similar to the way that the Savior’s practice of incarnation and death had a soteriological purpose. While these exercises lead to a resurrected state while in mortal flesh may be bodily, even if they are simply mental practices (assuming that a division can be made along these lines when it comes to practices), the ability to experience the resurrection while in a mortal body troubles an extreme Platonic notion which requires separation from the body in order to experience the noetic realm.

The notion that one lived partially resurrected in the present was a common one. The Gospel of Philip, which rejects both spiritual resurrection as well as the resurrection of the same kind of flesh one has in mortality, describes the relationship Christians might have with the future resurrection: “People who say they will first die and then arise are wrong. If they do not receive the resurrection first, while they are alive, they will receive nothing when they die.”79 The view that the resurrection must be received on earth formed the basis of one’s future state.

The Gospel of Philip continues, “As long as we are in this world, we should acquire resurrection, so that when we take off the flesh we may be found in rest and not wander in the middle.”80 In addition, Hippolytus discusses certain Phrygian

“Gnostic” views of the spiritual resurrection. He speaks of the process of rebirth in

79 NHC II, 3, 73,1-4. Cf. 56, 15-20. Translation from Meyer and Funk, eds., The Nag Hammadi Scriptures.

80 NHC II, 3, 66,16-20. Translation from Meyer and Funk, eds., The Nag Hammadi Scriptures.

92 this life, rather than the future resurrection. In this view, the spiritual resurrection is seen as a change that begins in this life. One is spiritually resurrected while in the flesh, even though the flesh may be seen quite negatively, as a “mausoleum and tomb.”81

Advocates of the resurrection of the flesh also considered that the resurrection began in this life. Irenaeus suggests that the Paul’s term “swallowing” refers to the process of becoming “spiritual” while mortal. He speaks of the

“pledge,” or promise of the resurrection as influencing how one lives presently. This portion consists of being “spiritual” while in the flesh.

Si ergo pignus hoc habitans in nobis jam spiritualis efficit et absorbetur mortale ab immortalitate—Vos enim, ait, non estis in carne sed in Spiritu, siquidem Spiritus Dei habitat in vobis—, hoc autem non secundum jucturam carnis sed secundum communionem Spiritus fit.

If this pledge, therefore, dwelling in us, makes us spiritual even now, and the mortal is swallowed up by immortality. “For you,” he declares, “are not in the flesh, but in the Spirit, if the Spirit of God dwells in you.”[Rom 8:9] This, however does not take place by a casting away of the flesh, but by the communion of the Spirit.82

The Spirit is not something that one either has or doesn’t have, but is received little by little. In this way, the Spirit slowly prepares the flesh for the resurrection.

Nunc autem partem aliquam a Spiritu ejus sumimus ad perfectionem et praeparationem incorruptelae, paulatim assuescentes capere et portare Deum: quod et pignus dixit Apostolus.

But now we receive only a part of his Spirit, for the perfection and preparation for incorruption, being little by little accustomed to receive and bear God, which the Apostle calls a “pledge.”83

81 Hippolytus. Ref. 5.3.23-24.

82 Iren. AH V.8.1 (SC 153:92-94)

83 Iren. AH V.8.1 (SC 153:92). Irenaeus cites Eph 1:13-14 for the language of the “pledge.” He also analyzes 2 Cor 5:4; Rom 8.

93

The “pledge” of a smaller portion of the Spirit functions to prepare the flesh for its resurrected state. The Spirit performs this perfecting action as it “makes humans after the image and likeness of God.”84 Irenaeus makes the point that living in the

Spirit in the present is in no way in conflict with living in the flesh on earth. One receives the portion of the resurrection now.

Even Tertullian, who rails against what he sees as a heretical distortion of the resurrection of the flesh that admits that one is resurrected while in this flesh, acknowledges a spiritual transformation that can be called a resurrection while in mortality.

So also, they add, the resurrection must be maintained to be that by which a man, having come to the truth, has been reanimated and revivified to God, and, the death of ignorance being dispelled, has as it were burst forth from the tomb of the old man [Cf. Eph. 4. 22; Col. 3. 9.]: because the Lord also likened the scribes and Pharisees to whitened sepulchers [Cf. Matt. 23:27]. Thereafter then, having by faith obtained resurrection, they are, they say, with the Lord, whom they have put on in baptism. In fact, by this device they are accustomed often enough to trick our people even in conversation, pretending that they too admit the resurrection of the flesh. 'Woe', they say, 'to him who has not risen again in this flesh', to avoid shocking them at the outset by a forthright repudiation of resurrection. But secretly, in their private thoughts, their meaning is, Woe to him who has not, while he is in this flesh, obtained knowledge of heretical secrets: for among them resurrection has this meaning.85

Here, Tertullian notes that his opponents assert a “resurrection of the flesh,” even though they believe that they will shed the flesh in after their physical death. They are able to do so, he claims, because they believe that they are resurrected while

84 Iren. AH V.8.1 (SC 153:96). Efficient enim hominem secundum imaginem et similitudinem Dei.

85 Tertullian. De res. mort. 19.2-7. Translation from Ernest Evans, Tertullian's Treatise on the Resurrection (London: S.P.C.K., 1960).

94 they are still alive in this life. His objection, then is not that one claims to be resurrected in this life, but only that this resurrection cannot be termed the

“resurrection of the flesh.” Tertullian shares such a view of a mortal spiritual resurrection, yet it is accompanied with a future bodily resurrection: “It is therefore more competent for us even to maintain a spiritual resurrection at the commencement of a life of faith, who acknowledge the full completion thereof at the end of the world.”86 Tertullian then does not object to the idea that one can receive a kind of spiritual resurrection in the present life, as long as there is an accompanying belief in the future resurrection of the flesh.

These various examples demonstrate that a two-fold understanding of the resurrection, such as that in the EpRheg, is a widely held idea that spans the spectrum of those who believe in the resurrection of the flesh and those who do not.

This notion of a resurrection as occurring while already in the mortal flesh, the kind imagined by the EpRheg, suggests that there is no antagonism toward the flesh as an impediment to resurrection, or as something that must be abandoned before the resurrection can be manifest. Rather, the author of the EpRheg holds that with pratice, “you already have the resurrection” even in the mortal flesh.

Sexuality and Spiritual Resurrection

This view of the mortal flesh as participating in the spiritual resurrection in

EpRheg, GosPhil, Irenaeus, and Tertullian stands out when one looks at other descriptions of the spiritual resurrection that do take an explicitly antagonistic view

86 Tertullian. De res. mort. 25.4-6. Translation from Evans, Tertullian's Treatise on the Resurrection.

95 of the flesh. As one example, a view of the flesh as excessively sexual was a common argument in favor of the spiritual resurrection. In the TestTruth, the author argues for the “spiritual resurrection,” and warns, “[do not] look for the carnal resurrection, which [is] destruction. [Those who] go astray by [expecting] a [resurrection] that is empty [are not stripped] of the flesh.”87 Here, the punishment for mistakenly believing in the resurrection of the flesh is that they will actually be forced to wear the flesh in the next life! This objection to the flesh is connected to the renunciation of sexual intercourse, including an explanation that “he who is the father of

[mammon] is also the father of sexual intercourse.”88 Those who defend sexual intercourse as part of the created order will be placed in unquenchable fire.89 The one who renounces will be like “an angel,” lacking sexual difference.90

According to Ps. Justin, as we have seen in the previous chapter, his opponents also suggest that the resurrection is “spiritual.”91 Jesus’ resurrection, for instance, is only an “appearance of the flesh.”92 In Ps. Justin’s account, his opponents sexualize the mortal flesh and contrast it with the resurrected body in a way similar to the TestTruth.

Εἰ δὲ πάντα τὰ μέρη καὶ τὰ μόρια ἕξει δῆλονότι· ταῦτα λέγειν ὑπάρχειν μετὰ τὴν ἐκ νεκρῶν ἀνάστασιν πῶς οὐκ ἄτοπον, τοῦ σωτῆρος εἰρηκότος· Οὔτε γαμοῦσιν οὔτε γαμίσκονται, ἀλλ’ ἔσονται ὡς ἄγγελοι ἐν τῷ οὐρανῷ; Οἱ δὲ

87 NHC IX, 3, 36,29-37,5. Translation from Meyer and Funk, eds., The Nag Hammadi Scriptures.

88 NHC IX, 3, 68,7-8. Translation from Meyer and Funk, eds., The Nag Hammadi Scriptures.

89 NHC IX, 3, 38,27-39,19.

90 NHC IX, 3, 68,8-68,21.

91 Ps. Jusitn. DR 2.14; cf. 9.3. πνευµατικὸν.

92 Ps. Justin, DR 2.14. φαντασίαν δὲ σαρκὸς.

96 ἄγγελοι, φασίν, οὔτε σάρκα ἔχουσιν οὔτε ἐσθίουσιν οὔτε συνουσιάζουσιν· ὥστε οὐδὲ σαρκικὴ ἀνάστασις γενήσεται.

[They say,] “Clearly if the body will have all the parts and portions, how is it not absurd to say these things exist after the resurrection from the dead, since the Savior said: They will neither marry nor will be given in marriage, but they will be as angels in heaven.”93 They say, “The angels do not have flesh, nor do they eat, nor do they have sexual intercourse (συνουσιάζουσιν). Just so, neither will there be a fleshly resurrection.”94

Here, Jesus’s teaching that describes the actions of the resurrected body—not marrying, eating,95 or having sexual intercourse—functions as an argument against the resurrection of the flesh. These sexualized descriptions of the flesh teach us to resist the urge to homogenize the “spiritual resurrection” as a singular theological position.

It is unclear how the two views of the spiritual resurrection, one view that rejects the flesh as sexualized and impure for receiving the resurrection held by the opponents of Ps. Justin and the TestTruth, and the other view that conceives of one spiritually resurrected while in the mortal flesh, held by the GosPhil, EpRheg,

Irenaeus, and Tertullian, may be related to each other. In a way, they describe different stages of the resurrection. Some who held that the spiritual resurrection

93 cf. Mt 22:30/Mk 12:25. In both cases these texts use the present tense of εὶµι while Ps. Justin uses the future tense. Further, the rarely attested verb γαµάζω appears as γαµίζονται in the gospels, but is rendered γαµίσκονται in Ps. Justin. These minor differences do not entail a great change in meaning, though the future tense of εὶµι in Ps. Justin does seem to strengthen the future aspect of the angelic body.

94 Ps. Justin, DR 2.8-12.

95 Yet the notion of not eating presents a problem for both views. When Ps. Justin turns to the life and resurrection of Christ, he notes that Christ at with his disciples after the resurrection. While he aims to show that “it is not impossible for the flesh to ascend into heaven,”95 the fact that Christ could eat with them seems to undermine the argument that resurrected beings, like angels, will not eat or have sex because there is no need. Ps. Justin does not note the failure of the argument on this point.

97 was a rejection of the flesh spoke of the resurrection that occurred after death, while others saw the spiritual resurrection as happening in the mortal body before death.

It is easy to see how the former drew on the discourses of sexualized flesh. The latter, however, resisted such discourses because one must continue to live in the flesh while being spiritually resurrected.

Visibly Invisible Parts

While the EpRheg does not problematize sexuality with respect to mortal flesh in the same way as Ps. Justin, his opponents, and the TestTruth, the place of desires, sexual acts, and sexuality in the resurrection remains ambiguous for the

EpRheg. Unfortunately, the author doesn’t address this question explicitly, though it is possible to infer that, given the lack of bodies, there will be an accompanying lack of desires, sexual acts, and reproduction in the resurrection. Yet, what of the morphology of these resurrected persons? Given the lack of sexuality, does the author of EpRheg agree with the opponents of Ps. Justin that the spiritual resurrection will not include sexually differentiating parts, or rather does the author agree with Ps. Justin that the “parts” will be raised, but not function in the resurrection? I will suggest that he offers a view similar to Ps. Justin on this point, that the resurrection will possess the “parts,” but that they will not function sexually.

For the author of EpRheg, the continuation of the “parts” is critical in his understanding of the resurrection. It is clear that the “visible parts” will not continue, but this does not mean that the “living parts” will not continue.

98 ⲁⲗⲗⲁ ⲟⲩⲛ̄ ϩⲁⲉⲓⲛⲉ ⲟⲩⲱϣⲉ ⲁⲙ̣ⲙⲉ ⲛ̄ⲁϩⲣⲉ ⲡϣⲓⲛⲉ ⲉⲧⲃⲉ ⲛⲉⲧⲟⲩϣⲓⲛⲉ ⲉⲧⲃⲏⲧⲟⲩ ⲉⲓϣⲡⲉ ⲡⲉⲧⲟⲩⲁϫ ⲉⲫϣⲁⲛⲕⲱⲉ ⲛ̄ⲥⲱϥ ⲙ̄ⲡⲉϥⲥⲱⲙⲁ [ⲉ]ϥ̄ⲛⲁⲟⲩϫⲉⲉⲓ ⲛ̄ⲧⲟⲩⲛⲟⲩ ⲙ̄ⲡⲣ̄ⲧⲣⲉⲗⲁⲩⲉ ⲣ̄ ⲇⲓⲥⲧⲁⲍⲉ ⲉⲧⲃⲉ ⲡⲉⲉⲓ ⲛ̄ⲛⲉⲥ ⲛ̄ϩⲉ ϭⲉ96 ⲛ̄ⲙⲉⲗⲟⲥ ⲉⲧⲟⲩⲁⲁⲛϩ̄ ⲁⲃⲁⲗ ⲉⲧⲙⲁⲟⲩⲧ ⲛ̄ⲥⲉⲛⲁⲟⲩϫⲉⲉⲓ ⲉⲛ ϫⲉ ⲛ̄ⲙⲉⲗ̣[ⲟ]ⲥ̣ ⲉⲧⲁⲁⲛϩ̄ ⲉⲧϣⲟⲟⲡ ⲛ̄ϩⲣⲏⲓ̈ ⲛ̄ϩⲏⲧⲟⲩ ⲛⲉⲩⲛⲁⲧⲱⲟⲩⲛ ⲡⲉ

But some desire to understand about those things they are searching, whether the one who is saved, if he leaves his body (ⲥⲱⲙⲁ) behind, will be saved immediately. Let no one doubt concerning this. Indeed, the visible parts (ⲛ̄ⲙⲉⲗⲟⲥ ⲉⲧⲟⲩⲁⲁⲛϩ) that are dead shall not be saved. The living parts that exist within them shall arise.97

Here, the author argues that the moment of salvation occurs at the time of the body is left behind. He constructs the self as consisting of two different kinds of “parts”

(ⲛ̄ⲙⲉⲗⲟⲥ), those that are visible and those that are living. The visible parts are

“dead.” Though he will speak of the resurrection as in some sense already occurring, he does speak of death as a future event.98 In Valentinian thought more broadly, material substance does not receive salvation.99 For the author, there is something that is living inside of these “visible” parts. These are the “living” parts that occupy the body until the body dies.

But, what exactly are these living parts? They are “inside,” and Layton has suggested that they derive from Plato’s notion that the soul has “parts.”100 Peel calls attention to the Pauline language that draws on a similar anthropology.101 He also

96 Following Peel, I leave this untranslated, rejecting the conjectures on emendations. Peel, "The Treatise on the Resurrection," 187-88.

97 NHC 1,4 47,30-48,3

98 NHC 1,4 49,15-24

99 Cf., Exc. Theod 56.3; Iren, AH 1.6.1; Tertullian. De res. mort. 45.1

100 Layton, Gnostic Treatise on Resurrection, 91. Cf. Plato, Phil 14E; Laws 795E; Rep 9.589A.

101 Peel, "The Treatise on the Resurrection," 189. 2 Cor 4:16; Eph 3:16; Rom 7:21-25.

99 notes that Epiphanius reports that the Valentinians believe that they will be saved with an inner, spiritual body.102 The idea that the living, interior self has “parts” seems to suggest some sort of morphological correspondence between the mortal and resurrected selves.

ⲉⲩ ϭⲉ ⲧⲉ ⲧⲁⲛⲁⲥⲧⲁⲥⲓⲥ ⲡϭⲱⲗⲡ̄ ⲁⲃⲁⲗ ⲡⲉ ⲛ̄ⲟⲩⲁⲉⲓϣ ⲛⲓⲙ ⲛ̄ⲛⲉⲧⲁϩⲧⲱⲟⲩⲛ ⲉⲓϣⲡⲉ ⲁⲕⲣ̄ ⲡⲙⲉⲩⲉ ⲛ̄ⲅⲁⲣ ⲉⲕⲱϣ ϩⲙ̄ ⲡⲉⲩⲁⲅⲅⲉⲗⲓⲟⲛ ϫⲉ ⲁϩⲏⲗⲉⲓⲁⲥ ⲟⲩⲱⲛϩ̄ ⲁⲃⲁⲗ ⲁⲩⲱ ⲙⲱⲩⲥⲏⲥ ⲛⲙ̄ⲙⲉϥ ⲙ̄ⲡⲱⲣ ⲁⲙⲉⲩⲉ ⲁⲧⲁⲛⲁⲥⲧⲁⲥⲓⲥ ϫⲉ ⲟⲩⲫⲁⲛⲧⲁⲥⲓⲁ ⲧⲉ ⲟⲩⲫⲁⲛⲧⲁⲥⲓⲁ ⲉⲛ ⲧⲉ ⲁⲗⲗⲁ [ⲟ]ⲩⲙⲏⲉ ⲧⲉ ⲛ̄ϩⲟⲩⲟ ⲛ̄ⲇⲉ ⲟⲩⲡ̣ⲉⲧⲉⲥϣⲉ ⲡⲉ ⲁϫⲟⲟⲥ ϫⲉ ⲟⲩⲫⲁⲛⲧⲁⲥⲓⲁ ⲡⲉ ⲡⲕⲟⲥⲙⲟⲥ ⲛ̄ϩⲟⲩⲟ ⲁⲧⲁⲛⲁⲥⲧⲁⲥⲓⲥ ⲧⲉⲉⲓ ⲉⲛⲧⲁⲥϣⲱⲡⲉ ⲁⲃⲁⲗ ϩⲓⲧⲟⲟⲧϥ̄ ⲙ̄ⲡⲉⲛϫⲁⲉⲓⲥ ⲡⲥⲱⲧ̣ⲏⲣ ⲓⲏ(ⲥⲟⲩ)ⲥ ⲡⲉⲭⲣⲏⲥⲧⲟⲥ

What then is the resurrection? It is always the disclosure of those who are risen. For, if you remember in the Gospel that Elijah was made manifest and Moses with him, do not think the resurrection is an illusion (ⲟⲩⲫⲁⲛⲧⲁⲥⲓⲁ). It is not an illusion, but it is truth! Indeed, it is more fitting to say that the world (ⲡⲕⲟⲥⲙⲟⲥ) is an illusion, rather that the resurrection, which has come to be through our Lord Jesus Christ.103

Here, though he has argued above that the visible parts die, he insists that the resurrection is not some invisible thing. Rather, it is a revelation, or a manifestation, of those who have risen (ⲛ̄ⲛⲉⲧⲁϩⲧⲱⲟⲩⲛ). The same living parts that will arise

(ⲛⲉⲩⲛⲁⲧⲱⲟⲩⲛ) are made visible through this manifestation in the resurrection.

Here, that which is “living” is actually more real, more manifest than that which passes away. The author suggests that the world is more like an illusion, because of its changeability, than the resurrection.

What function does the transfiguration appearances of Elijah and Moses perform in this explanation?104 Are they examples of “the rising of identifiable

102 Epiphanius, Pan. 31.7.5.

103 NHC 1,4 48,3-19

104 For the Transfiguration story, see Mark 9:2-8; Matt 17:1-18; Luke 9:28-36.

100 selves”?105 Or, are they raised as a potential objection to the author’s position that the body will not rise?106 The Transfiguration story was invoked by many Christians to talk about the resurrection. Tertullian suggest that the story shows, contrary to his Valentinian opponents, that the flesh is transformed, and that the “outward appearance of the body (habitudinem corporis) continues the same even in glory.”107

However, Origen seems more in line with EpRheg in arguing that the

Transfiguration proves that “the features that once existed in the flesh will remain the same features in the spiritual body.”108 Importantly, the question that the invocation of Elijah and Moses answers about the nature of the resurrection follows from the author’s description of the “living parts” that will arise. He is arguing that the resurrected subject appears as a human body, with its parts, recognizable like

Elijah and Moses. In this way, the assertion that only the bare nous survives must be modified. The author holds up Elijah and Moses as examples that the resurrected body has “parts.”

While Ps. Justin’s opponents’ version of the spiritual resurrection rejected a raising of the bodily “parts,” specifically the sexual organs, the EpRheg actually defends these parts and suggests that identifiable sexual difference, as a part of one’s overall morphological identity, will continue. The resurrected self is not simply a bare nous, but it is important to emphasize that it has “parts.”

105 Peel, "The Treatise on the Resurrection," 190.

106 Layton, Gnostic Treatise on Resurrection, 95.

107 Tertullian, De res. mort. 55.10.

108 Origen. In Psalmos 1.5. ἀλλ᾽ ὅπερ ποτὲ ἐχαρακτηρίζετο ἐν τῇ σαρκὶ, τοῦτο χαρακτηρισθήσεται ἐν τῷ πνευματικῷ σὼματι.

101 Despite the rejection of the “visible parts” as an aspect of the resurrection, this does not imply a rejection of visibility as an important category. Visibility is not bad, only temporary. Like the flesh, visibility belongs to this fleeting world, but this does not mean that it is a prison, or evil. In an important example, the use of being

“visible” is positive, suggesting that only those who are “visible in this world wearing him” (ⲉⲛⲟⲩⲁⲛϩ̄ ⲁⲃⲁⲗ ϩⲙ̄ ⲡⲓⲕⲟⲥⲙⲟⲥ ⲉⲛⲣ̄ ⲫⲟⲣⲉⲓ ⲙ̄ⲙⲁϥ)109 will be raised. This kind of visibility is taken positively on the conditions that one has taken on the Savior, and it only lasts until the moment of death. Such language shares the sentiment of

Paul’s statement statement, “For while we live, we are always being given up to death for Jesus’ sake, so that the life of Jesus may be made visible in our mortal flesh” (2 Cor 4:11). For the EpRheg, by “wearing him,” one becomes his “beams”

(ⲛ̄ⲁⲕⲧⲓⲛ). The explanation of this metaphor, that “we are embraced by him until our setting, that is to say, our death” is not immediately clear.110 In what way does the sun embrace a beam? Here, it seems that the language of “wearing” is extended to the example of the light from the sun, such that one is a beam when they wear the light.111 When one is wearing the sun, one is embraced by it and becomes a beam.

The believer is a beam until his or her own setting (the sun itself does not set).

109 The object of wearing is generally taken to be “him” rather than “it” (i.e., the cosmos). Peel, "The Treatise on the Resurrection," 163. Layton translates it as “since we are manifestly present in the world, the world is what we wear (like a garment).” Layton, Gnostic Treatise on Resurrection, 61.

110 Haardt suggests that the passage implies consubstantiality between Christ and the believer. Robert Haardt, "'Die Abhandglung Über Die Auferstehung' Des Codex Jung Aus Der Bibliothek Gnostischer Koptischer Shriften Von Nag Hammadi: Bemerkungen Zu Ausgewählten Motiven, Teil Ii: Die Interpretation," Kairos 12 (1970): 265-66. Peel disagrees, arguing that the essential self returns to heaven. Peel, "The Treatise on the Resurrection," 163.

111 See, for instance, the parallels in the Odes of Solomon noted by Layton, Gnostic Treatise on Resurrection, 63.

102 The state of being both visible and invisible at different points is summed up in the example of the sun and the beams. These metaphors of swallowing and the sun and beams are the antecedent to the declaration, “this is the spiritual resurrection.” In what way is this metaphor of the sun and the beams descriptive of the spiritual resurrection? Is the antecedent of the “this” the description of wearing the Savior in this life, or the period after this life when we are drawn to him? Given the progression of the description, it seems that the “spiritual resurrection” refers to the final state, the one where the beams are drawn to the sun at death.112 However, as we have seen, the resurrection is received in part in this life.

Conclusion

The EpRheg shares a great deal with the other defenders of the resurrection from this period. Despite the difference in the final substance of the resurrection, the author shares a view with both Irenaeus and Tertullian, among others, that one may be resurrected partially while in the mortal flesh, but that this is only a precursor to the final resurrection that occurs after death. Spiritual resurrection does not suggest in and of itself hostility toward the flesh. This means that he sees the spiritual resurrection as occurring for the saved persons while they are in the flesh, which is manifest through training and practice. Though other advocates of

112 Peel, "The Treatise on the Resurrection," 166. Peel sees the spiritual resurrection as a “mode” of resurrection that “destroys” the other kinds. “whereas Paul applies the adjectives to the type of resurrection body, our author uses them of the mode of resurrection.” This distinction, however, is never explained. He admits that in so doing, he is actually arguing against other kinds of resurrected bodies: “he implicitly denies the views of those who maintain the sole survival of the immortal “soul” (e.g., representatives of Middle Platonism, such as Celsus in Origen’s Con. Cels. 2.5-70; 5.14; or Porphyry, fr. 34 and 92), as well as those who would affirm resurrection of crudely literal “flesh” (e.g., representatives of the Great Church like Athenagoras, Res., or Tertullian, De res. mort.).”

103 the spiritual resurrection, like the opponents of Ps. Justin and the TestTruth, sexualized the flesh in their opposition, EpRheg does not draw upon this language in his opposition to the flesh. In this way, attention to how the flesh is understood, whether as a sexualized substance or not, provides a clearer sense of the author’s evaluation of the flesh than simply asking whether or not the author believes in the resurrection of the flesh. Instead, the EpRheg understanding of the problems of the flesh as growing old and dying, rather than suffering from sexuality, contrasts the author not only from some opponents of the resurrection of the flesh, but also from someone like Ps. Justin, who sees the resurrection of the flesh as the solution to the sexuality of the flesh.

So-called advocates of the flesh like Ps. Justin actually agree with this sexualized view of the flesh, though for EpRheg, the flesh is not characterized in these terms. In the author of EpRheg’s description of the shortcomings of the flesh, citing the reasons that it will not be raised, there is no moral evaluation of the flesh as the root of desires, sins, and lust, nor the evils of reproduction. Its weakness is only that it grows old and dies, and is therefore not an immortal substance. The flesh is temporary rather than eternal, and in this sense is not fully “real,” just an illusion. Nevertheless, the author states that this does not mean that there is no grace for it. Rather, the Savior’s incarnation was a crucial step to redemption, and the resurrection may already occur while in the mortal flesh. Indeed, practices of the body itself may be essential to realize the resurrection. These treatments of the flesh in the EpRheg may offer us greater access to the range of ways that sexuality was connected to and mediated by the flesh by ancient Christians. The EpRheg

104 opposes the resurrection of the flesh, without problematizing sexuality in the process, revealing the multiple ways that sexuality could be deployed in relationship to the flesh in the context of debates about the resurrection.

The EpRheg argues along with Ps. Justin and others specifically for the raising of the bodily “parts,” though not in their external, “visible” form. Like in the

Transfiguration, resurrected humans will be identifiable, which includes aspects such as maleness as was the case for Elijah and Moses. The advocacy of the continuation of bodily “parts” in the resurrection shows further departure from other advocates of the spiritual resurrection like the opponents of Ps. Justin and perhaps TestTruth who imagined an angelic resurrection lacking sexual differences.

Since the EpRheg does not sexualize the parts or the flesh as others who opposed the resurrection of the flesh, he finds little trouble in imagining resurrected bodies with these parts. The differences between the resurrected bodies are vertical differences in substance, while horizontal differences among humans do not present a problem.

In the EpRheg, the lack of the suppression of sexuality in the mortal flesh does not blur sexual differences in mortality that are rooted in sexuality, as was the case in Ps. Justin. While Ps. Justin’s values of sexual renunciation provide an occasion for undercutting sexual difference as rooted in sexuality in both mortality and in the future resurrection, the EpRheg does not lead to the same blurring of sexual difference in mortality precisely because it does not engage in a critique of sexuality. The overall positive evaluation of the flesh as essential to one’s salvation either through Christ or through bodily practices, even if the flesh is only a

105 temporary state, allows the author to avoid condemnations of sexuality as too much belonging to the flesh. For this reason, because the discourses of sexuality remain unchallenged, the maintenance of sexual difference in mortality is not a problem that the author of EpRheg needs to account for. It is only in the resurrection, where the author appeals to the preservation of the “parts,” that he addresses the problem of sexual difference.

The EpRheg imagines the state of resurrection in terms similar to Ps. Justin.

For both, the continuation of the “parts” assures sexual difference in the resurrection, and both also suggest either implicitly or explicitly that the resurrection is a realm without sexuality. The lack of sexuality in the resurrected realm for both Ps. Justin, as well as EpRheg produces the same problematic with respect to sexual difference, a discourse rooted not only in bodily morophology, but specifically the sexualization of the bodily morphology. Without sexuality in the resurrection, it becomes difficult to reproduce the discourse of hierarchical sexual difference.

106

4. “The Practice of Every Virtue:” Athenagoras, De Resurrectione

Introduction

The text De Resurrectione is preserved with the Legatio in a single manuscript, Parisinus gr. 451, copied in 913-14 CE.1 The manuscript attributes both the Legatio and De Resurrectione to Athenagoras, the philosopher Christian.2 We know very little about his life, which is mentioned only once briefly by Methodius.3

Despite his obscurity, some have suggested that he was the teacher of Clement of

Alexandria.4 This text may have been written sometime in the early 180’s CE, given that the Legatio dates to about 177 CE.5 Athenagoras’ authorship of De Resurrectione

1 The manuscript was written by Baanes, the secretary to the archbishop of Caesarea (Cappadocia), Arethas. Arethas himself wrote the corrections and scholia on the manuscript. The inscriptio written by Baanes attributes it to Athenagoras, and the subscriptio written in Arethas’ hand does the same. The text immediately follows Athenagoras’ Legatio in the manuscript, which is also the only manuscript that text. Miroslav Marcovich, Athenagorae Qui Fertur De Resurrectione Mortuorum, Supplements to Vigiliae Christianae, V. 53 (Leiden ; Boston: Brill, 2000), 1.

2 ΑΘΗΝΑΓΟΡΟΥ ΑΘΗΝΑΙΟΥ ΦΙΛΟΣΟΦΟΥ ΧΡΙΣΤΙΑΝΟΥ ΠΡΕΣΒΕΙΑ ΠΕΡΙ ΧΡΙΣΤΙΑΝΩΝ. This inscriptio of Leg. is written by Baanes, the scribe of Arethas. For a more critical discussion of the text and its transmission, see Marcovich, De Resurrectione, 6-12.

3 Methodius, Res., 37.1.

4 Philip of Side, the deacon of John Chrysostom, is the first to offer any biographical detail about Athenagoras in his Christian History (PG 6.182). This work was strongly criticized in antiquity by Socrates in HE 7.27 and Photius Cod. 35. Pouderon, however, takes this suggestion seriously. Bernard Pouderon, "Athénagore Chef D'école. A Propos Du Témoinage De Philippe De Sidè," Studia Patristica 26 (1993), Bernard Pouderon, D'athènes À Alexandrie: Études Sur Athénagore Et Les Origines De La Philosophie Chrétienne, Bibliothèque Copte De Nag Hammadi. Section "Etudes"; 4 (Québec/Louvain: Presses de l'Université Laval ; Editions Peeters, 1997), 28-40, Bernard Pouderon, "Athénagore Et La Tradition Alexandrine," in Origeniana Octava: Origen and the Alexandrian Tradition = Origene E La Tradizione Alessandrina: Papers of the 8th International Origen Congress, Pisa, 27-31 August 2001, ed. Lorenzo Perrone, et al., Bibliotheca Ephemeridum Theologicarum Lovaniensium ; 164 (Leuven: Leuven University Press: Uitgeverij Peeters, 2003)..

5 The Legatio is addressed to Marcus Aurelius and Commodus during a “deep peace” (1.2). This dates the text before 178 CE, the year the war was resumed with the Germans. The persecutions in Gaul in 177

107 (DR) is debated, however, primarily because of some divergences between DR and the Legatio.6 The contrary opinion sets DR in the context of the Origenist and post-

Origenist debates about the resurrection.7 However, the lack of the use of the formula “resurrection of the flesh” in DR, which was heavily discussed both among the Latin and Greek speaking Christians in the early third century, points to an earlier time.8 This point alone suggests a date before the Origenist controversy.

may have been the occasion for writing. William R. Schoedel, Athenagoras: Legatio and De Resurrectione, trans. William R. Schoedel, Oxford Early Christian Texts (Oxford,: Clarendon Press, 1972), xi. Those who accept Athenagoras’ authorship include Leslie W. Barnard, Athenagoras: A Study in Second Century Christian Apologetic, Théologie Historique ; 18 (Paris: Beauchesne, 1972), Leslie W. Barnard, "Notes on Athenagoras," Latomus 31 (1972), Leslie W. Barnard, "Athenagoras: De Resurrectione. The Background and Theology of a Second Century Treatise on the Resurrection," Studia Theologica 30 (1976), Leslie W. Barnard, "The Authenticity of Athenagoras' De Resurrectione.," in Studia Patristica, Vol 15, Pt 1 (Berlin : Akademie Verlag, 1984, 1984), Gunnar af Hällström, Carnis Resurrectio: The Interpretation of a Credal Formula, Commentationes Humanarum Litterarum, 86 (Helsinki: Societas Scientiarum Fennica, 1988), 42-44, Bernard Pouderon, "L'authenticité Du Traité De Resurrectione Attribué À L'apologiste Athénagore," Vigiliae Christianae 40 (1986), Bernard Pouderon, "Public Et Adversaires Du Traité Sur La Résurrection D'athénagore," Vetera Christianorum 24 (1987), Bernard Pouderon, "La Chaîne Alimentaire Chez Athénagore. Confrontation De Sa Théorie Digestive Avec La Science Médicale De Son Temps," Orpheus N. S. 9 (1988), Bernard Pouderon, Athénagore D'athènes: Philosophe Chrétien, Théologie Historique; 82 (Paris: Beauchesne, 1989), Bernard Pouderon, "Athénagore Et Tertullien Sur La Résurrection," Revue Augustinienne 35 (1989), Bernard Pouderon, "La Chair Et Le Sang. Encore Sur L'authénticité Du Traité D'athénagore," Vigiliae Christianae 44 (1990), Bernard Pouderon, Athenagoras: Supplique Au Sujet Des Chrétiens; Et, Sur La Résurrection Des Morts, Sources Chrétiennes, No 379 (Paris: Editions du Cerf, 1992), Pouderon, "Athénagore Chef D'école. A Propos Du Témoinage De Philippe De Sidè.", Bernard Pouderon, "Apologetica. Encore Sur L'authénticité Du 'De Resurrection' D'athénagore," Revue des sciences religieuses 67 (1993), Bernard Pouderon, "Les Citations Scripturaires Chez Athénagore, Leur Origine Et Leur Statut," Vetera Christianorum 31 (1994), Bernard Pouderon, "Le 'De Resurrectione' D'athénagore Face À La Gnose Valentinienne," Recherches Augustininienne 28 (1995).

6 Robert M. Grant’s classical study has showed considerable differences between the quotes, style, and doctrine of the Legatio and De Resurrectione. Robert M. Grant, "Athenagoras or Pseudo-Athenagoras," Harvard Theological Review 47 (1954): 121-29, Marcovich, De Resurrectione, 3, Schoedel, Athenagoras: Legatio and De Resurrectione, Nicole Zeegers-Vander Vorst, "La Paternité Athénagorienne Du 'De Resurrectione'," Revue d'histoire ecclésiastique 87 (1992), Horacio Lona, "Die Dem Apologeten Athenagoras Zugeschriebene Schrift 'De Resurrectione Mortuorum' Und Die Altchristliche Auferstehungsapologetik," Salesianum 52 (1990).

7 Grant argues that the text belongs to the late-third, early-fourth centuries, and Schoedel agrees. Lona pushes it even farther back to the late-fourth century. Grant, "Athenagoras or Pseudo-Athenagoras.", Lona, "Die Dem Apologeten Athenagoras Zugeschriebene Schrift 'De Resurrectione Mortuorum' Und Die Altchristliche Auferstehungsapologetik.", Schoedel, Athenagoras: Legatio and De Resurrectione, xxviii

8 Pouderon, Athénagore, 86-88.

108 Regardless of the authorship, the dating to the late second century is not unreasonable.9

By situating his treatise within a philosophical discourse,10 Athenagoras must first lay the foundation for the possibility of the resurrection in order to show how such a doctrine leads to virtue. The first set of arguments on behalf of the truth is intended to convince “unbelievers” and “doubters” of the resurrection, including those “who accept our basic assumptions,” that is, other Christians.11 Athenagoras

9 A compromise position that denies Athenagoras as the author, but situates the text in the late-second century apologetic debates about the resurrection has emerged. Ezio Gallicet, "Atenagora O Pseudo- Atenagora?," Rivista di Filologia 104 (1976): 420-35, Ezio Gallicet, "Ancora Sullo Pseudo-Atenagora," Rivista di Filologia 105 (1977): 21-42, Nicole Zeegers-Vander Vorst, "Adversaires Et Destinataires Du De Resurrectione Attribué À Athénagore D' Athènes," Salesianum 57 (1995): 75-122. Even those who have defended the authenticity of the text tend to be more convincing in dating the text than to ascribing to Athenagoras’s hand. For instance, Barnard only relies on shared quotations from the Iliad and similar “style” to assert that it is “probable that both works come from the same hand.” Barnard, Athenagoras, 31. Bynum defends Athenagoras’ authorship by situating it within 2nd c. “materialist” notions of the resurrection, though her arguments do no more than date the text to the second century. Bynum, Resurrection of the Body, 28. The arguments for this early date include the relative lack of scriptural citations. Barnard, Athenagoras, 30-31. Were the text directed to a primarily internal Christian dispute, one would expect more engagement with authoritative texts. On the contrary, Schoedel argues that the appeal to Law (23.2), the Gospel, (9.2), and “the Apostle” (18.5) “suggests an intramural debate.” Schoedel, Athenagoras: Legatio and De Resurrectione, xxix. Further, the lack of the use of the formula “resurrection of the flesh,” which was heavily discussed both among the Latin and Greek speaking Christians in the early third century, points to an earlier time. This point alone situates the text in a pre- Origenist controversy since this is the primary phrase under dispute. In addition, the fact that the author never mentions Origen by name casts doubt that he was engaged in anti-Origenism, since other opponents of Origenism like Methodius have no such reservations. Pouderon, Athénagore, 86-88. Along with Ps. Justin, Athenagoras appeals to the example of semen to demonstrate the resurrection. Athen, DR, 17.2-4. Ps. Justin, DR 5.7-10. Cf. Justin. 1 Apol. 19. Both texts also refer to the idea that, “to God all things are possible.” Athen, DR 2; Ps. Justin, DR 5.1. Celsus testifies that Christians invoked this argument in their defense of the resurrection. Origen. Cels. 5.14.

10 Leslie Barnard explains situates Athenagoras within the context of an “eclectic” Middle Platonism. Barnard, Athenagoras, 44. However, Barnard mainly relies on the Legatio in his characterization of Athenagoras’ philosophy (he accepts the authenticity of De Res.). A detailed study of the philosophical perspectives of De Resurrectione on its own in relationship to wider philosophical discussions has yet to be written. Nevertheless, we can still analyze the arguments he invokes.

11 Athen, DR 1.5. τῶν γε τὰς πρώτας ὑποθέσεις δεξαµένων τινὰς.

109 asserts that this group lacks any good “cause or reason” for their doubt,12 rhetorically situating them as without philosophical foundation.

Athenagoras’ philosophical position will emphasize questions of virtue. Like

Ps. Justin and the author of EpRheg, Athenagoras sees the proper view of the resurrected body as connected to questions of bodily practice. Athenagoras argues that without the understanding of the body as resurrected, the “practice of every virtue” (πάσης ἀρετῆς ἄσκησις) is in vain.13 As part of this emphasis on the cultivation of virtue, Athenagoras is particularly committed to the difference between males and females. We have seen that Ps. Justin connects the resurrection of the parts to the practice of virginity, and the EpRheg sees the parts as critical to the continuity of identity. We shall see that Athenagoras comes to emphasize the

“parts” as a means to strengthen the cultivation of virtue. He sees sexual difference as a critical aspect of the cultivation of virtue.

This chapter will analyze how Athenagoras’ view of judgment and the resurrection intersects with discourses of sexual difference. His emphasis that the body is essential to identity and virtue allows him to maintain morophological

12 Athen DR 1.5. ἀφορµὴν οὐδ’ αἰτίαν. Hällström takes such accusations at face value calling these Christians “simpletons” who are “easily deluded by heretics.” Hällström, Carnis Resurrectio: The Interpretation of a Credal Formula, 22 fn7. It is useful to remember that the resurrection of the body was held in the extreme intellectual minority in antiquity.

13 Athen, DR 15.7. The critical edition used here is Marcovich, De Resurrectione. For others, see Johann Karl Theodor von Otto, Athenagroas: Opera. Ad Optimos Libros Mss. Partim Nondum Colltos Recensuit, Scholiis Parisinis Nunc Primum Integris Ornavit, Prolegomenis Adnotatione Versione Instruxit, Indices Adiecit Ioann. Carol. Theod. Otto, Corpus Apologetarum Christianorum Saeculi Secundi, V.7 (Ienae,: prostat apud F. Mauke, 1857), Pouderon, Athenagoras: Supplique Au Sujet Des Chrétiens; Et, Sur La Résurrection Des Morts, Schoedel, Athenagoras: Legatio and De Resurrectione, Eduard Schwartz, Athenagorae Libellus Pro Christianis: Oratio De Resurrectione Cadaverum, Texte Und Untersuchungen Zur Geschichte Der Altchristlichen Literatur ; 4. Bd., Heft 2 (Leipzig: J.C. Hinrichs, 1891).

110 sexual difference in resurrected bodies. Yet, we shall also see that Athenagoras distinguishes mortal and resurrected bodies with reference to the humoral conditions of the body. The difference between mortal and resurrected flesh thus intersects Athenagoras with modes of sexual difference in different ways than the other authors considered thus far. The difference is Ps. Justin argues that sexual difference is necessary to model virginity, whereas the EpRheg argues that the continuity of parts is key for maintaining identity in the resurrection. Yet, we shall see that just as these two authors obscured sexual difference by eliminating sexuality from the resurrected realm, so too does Athenagoras. Yet, Athenagoras ultimately goes even further in troubling sexual difference by not only eliminating sexual practices and desires in the resurrection, but also by eliminating the humors which shaped bodily morphological differences.

Virtue and Sexual Difference

The interest in judgment and the cultivation of virtue is a special emphasis in

Athenagoras. In laying out the “natural axioms” (φυσικῆς ἐννοίας),14 a technical

Stoic term for foundational notions that appear naturally to the human mind,15

Athenagoras explains that the resurrection helps to account for four things: 1) “the purpose (αἰτίαν) of the Creator in making [humans]”, 2) “the nature (φύσιν) of

[humans] so created”, 3) the proper understanding of “providence (προνοίας)” and

“just judgment (δικαίαν κρίσιν)”, and 4) the “end of human existence (τοῦ κατὰ τὸν

14 Athen, DR 14.1

15 Hans Friedrich August von Arnim, Stoicorum Veterum Fragmenta, Sammlung Wissenschaftlicher Commentare (Stutgardiae,: In aedibus B. G. Teubneri, 1968), ii. 104, 54, 473.

111 ἀνθρώπινον βίον τέλους.).”16 In this schema, “the resurrection happens not because judgment is a first principle (πρῶτον λόγον), but because of the purpose of the

Creator (δημιουργήσαντος) and the nature of those created.”17

All of these assertions are intertwined in important ways. In his defense of the doctrine of the resurrection, Athenagoras brings to bear philosophical arguments based on how humans are presently constituted as both bodies and souls, what he calls the “origin of the first humans by creation” (ἡ τῶν πρώτων

ἀνθρώπων ἐκ δημιουργίας γένεσις). Athenagoras also introduces a set of arguments for the resurrection “from the end (telos) of humans” (ἐκ τοῦ τούτων τέλους), or concerning the final judgment.18 Both creation and judgment, he insists, derive from a notion of providence (προνοία). For Athenagoras, providence explains two crucial features of his argument. First, those who believe in providence must admit that the flesh is cared for by God; and second, providence is evidence of a future judgment.19

The question of virtue is central to Athenagoras’ understanding of the resurrection. Because of this emphasis on virtue, and the proper ways to both cultivate and achieve it, Athenagoras posits the necessity of sexual difference.

Athenagoras insists that only male and female bodies may fulfill certain commandments, such as the interdiction against adultery.

16 Athen, DR 14.4-5

17 Athen, DR 14.6. οὐ διὰ τὴν κρίσιν ἡ ἀνάστασις γίνεται κατὰ πρῶτον λόγον, ἀλλὰ διὰ τὴν τοῦ δηµιουργήσαντος γνώµην καὶ τὴν τῶν δηµιουργηθέντων φύσιν.

18 Athen, DR 18.1

19 Athen, DR 18.2-3

112 οὔτε οὖν τὸ “οὐ μοιχεύσεις” ἐπὶ ψυχῶν λεχθείη ποτ’ ἂν ἢ νοηθείη δεόντως, οὐκ οὔσης ἐν αὐταῖς τῆς κατὰ τὸ ἄρσεν καὶ θῆλυ διαφορᾶς οὐδὲ πρὸς μῖξιν τινὸς ἐπιτηδειότητος ἢ πρὸς ταύτην ὀρέξεως. ὀρέξεως δὲ τοιαύτης οὐκ οὔσης, οὐδὲ μῖξιν εἶναι δυνατόν· παρ’ οἷς δὲ μῖξις ὅλως οὐκ ἔστιν, οὐδὲ ἔνθεσμος μῖξις, ὅπερ ἐστὶν γάμος· ἐννόμου δὲ μίξεως οὐκ οὔσης, οὐδὲ τὴν παράνομον καὶ τὴν ἐπ’ ἀλλοτρίᾳ γυναικὶ γινομένην ὄρεξιν ἢ μῖξιν εἶναι δυνατόν, τοῦτο γάρ ἐστι μοιχεία.

Neither could the commandment, “Do not commit adultery” ever be held to or though necessary for souls, since there is no difference among them with respect to male and female (ἄρσεν καὶ θῆλυ), nor any tendency or appetite for sexual intercourse (μῖξις). For those who do not have aptitude, sexual intercourse is not possible since sexual intercourse does not exist at all, not even lawful (ἔνθεσμος) sexual intercourse, that is, marriage. If there is no lawful (ἐννόμου) sexual intercourse, neither is there unlawful appetite nor is sexual intercourse possible with another’s wife—for this is adultery.20

In this remarkable passage, Athenagoras argues that souls are neither male nor female, nor do that have any “tendency or aptitude” for sexual intercourse.

Athenagoras then links together sexual difference as a precondition for the pursuit of sexual virtue. He suggests that sexual intercourse is only possible when one has the kind of sexual difference that can only exist for the body, though he acknowledges sex between men and “boys” (παῖδας) is one of the sins that is possible in the body.21 His point is that adultery is only possible with the sexual differences of the body, and therefore the only way to actually observe this commandment is to have a body, rather than exist as a soul alone. But how does he come to connect both the insistence on sexual virtue as well as the insistence on sexually differentiated male and female bodies as a part of his defense of the

20 Athen, DR 23.4

21 Athen, DR 19.7

113 resurrection? Why does he care about sexual difference at all? Finally, what kind of sexual difference does he imagine?

In order to answer these questions, we need to consider why Athenagoras emphasizes the obedience to commandments in his treatment of the resurrection.

This statement is situated in a larger argument about the need to cultivate virtues in bodies, and how the resurrection provides judgment to motivate them to virtue. We shall see that Athenagoras’s discussion of judgment belongs to the second-century emphasis on the cultivation of virtue in the broader Greco-Roman world.

Athenagoras thus connects sexually differentiated bodies to a system of divine punishment and the acquisition of virtue.

In order to illustrate his point, Athenagoras imagines a world in which there is no judgment. What if God sits over the world in “darkness,” “ignorance,” and

“silence”?22 For Athenagoras, if there is no judgment, then there is no reason to live virtuously. He makes a crucial point here. He argues that if a person does not believe in a future judgment of the body then he or she will not be sufficiently motivated to engage in the askesis of virtue.

εἰ μὲν γὰρ μηδεμία μηδαμοῦ τῶν ἀνθρώποις πεπραγμένων γίνοιτο κρίσις, οὐδὲν ἕξουσι πλεῖον τῶν ἀλόγων ἄνθρωποι· μᾶλλον δὲ κἀκείνων πράξουσιν ἀθλιώτερον οἱ τὰ πάθη δουλαγωγοῦντες καὶ φροντίζοντες εὐσεβείας καὶ δικαιοσύνης ἢ τῆς ἄλλης ἀρετῆς, ὁ δὲ κτηνώδης ἢ θηριώδης βίος ἄριστος, ἀρετὴ δὲ ἀνόητος, δίκης δὲ ἀπειλὴ γέλως πλατύς, τὸ δὲ πᾶσαν θεραπεύειν ἡδονὴν ἀγαθῶν τὸ μέγιστον, δόγμα δὲ κοινὸν τούτων ἁπάντων καὶ νόμος εἷς τὸ τοῖς ἀκολάστοις καὶ λάγνοις φίλον “φάγωμεν [δὲ] καὶ πίωμεν, αὔριον γὰρ ἀποθνῄσκομεν”. τοῦ γὰρ τοιούτου βίου τέλος οὐδὲ ἡδονὴ κατά τινας, ἀλλ’ ἀναισθησία παντελής.

22 Athen, DR 19.2. ζόφος δέ τις βαθὺς κατακέχυται τῆς γῆς ἀγνοίᾳ καὶ σιγῇ κρύπτων αὐτούς τε τοὺς ἀνθρώπους καὶ τὰς τούτων πράξεις

114 For if there is never to be a judgment on the deeds of humans, then they will have nothing greater than irrational beasts; or rather, they will fare more miserably than these in subordinating the passions (πάθη) and having given heed to (φροντίζοντες) piety, justice, and every other virtue (ἀρετῆς). Then the life of beasts or savages is best, virtue is senseless (ἀρετὴ δὲ ἀνόητος), the threat of judgment a huge joke, and to cultivate pleasure (ἡδονὴν) is the greatest good, and the common doctrine and law of all will be that which is beloved to the unbridled and lecherous, “Eat, drink and be merry” [1 Cor 15:32]. For the end of such a life is not pleasure (ἡδονή), according to some, but complete insensibility.23

Athenagoras argues here that belief in divine judgment is a prerequisite to there being any sense to life and the pursuit of virtues.24 Since Christians believe in the resurrection, they not only conform better to philosophical reason, but also the practical values of “piety, justice, and every other virtue.” In the final line,

Athenagoras invokes a view of the purpose of life as without pleasure or insensible, suggesting that without judgment, there is no greater purpose to life, and even the pursuit of pleasure is in vain.25

Punishment and reward cannot be adequately obtained in this life. True virtue and true wickedness demand divine judgment in the afterlife. Even death by execution is not a sufficient punishment for great acts of evil. A man who slays thousands therefore cannot be adequately punished by his single death. Those who violate boys as well as women (ὑβρίσας δὲ παῖδας ὁμοῦ καὶ γυναῖκας), destroy

23 Athen, DR 19.3

24 The Legatio engages in a similar logic by arguing that Christians cannot commit any crimes because they believe in the resurrection (31.3-4; 33.1; 35.6; 36.1-2). Claudia Setzer, Resurrection of the Body in Early Judaism and Early Christianity: Doctrine, Community, and Self-Definition (Boston: Brill Academic Publishers, 2004), 98.

25 He may have in mind someone like Hegesias (c. 300 BCE), who argued that the insensibility of death was a greater good than life because pain necessarily outweighed pleasure. He famously recommended death over life as a result of life’s inability to actually produce pleasure. cf. Epicurus, Ep. 1.81; Diogenes Laertius 2.86, 93-95; Cicero, Tusc. Dips. I.83-4; Epiphanius, Pan. 3.2.9.

115 cities, burn houses, or kill entire peoples, require some punishment much greater than their own deaths to pay for their crimes. In cases of extreme evil, only divine punishment will suffice.26

Because the body and the soul must be judged together, the human being is then responsible for its bodily practices. He contrasts his own position with that of other philosophical arguments about the existence of the human subject after death.

He argues that there are three ways of thinking about life after death: 1) the soul and body are extinguished at death; 2) the soul continues, but the body decays; 3) the body and soul continue together after death. He suggests that the first two options do not provide a sufficient amount of justice for God’s providence. If both the soul and body are destroyed at death, it will lead to the “height of lawlessness— atheism.”27 In this view, there are simply no consequences for good or bad behavior. In the second option, if the soul continues on without the body, then the judgment it receives will be nothing other than inequitable. He argues, “if good deeds are rewarded, the body will be wronged.”28 The soul cannot be rewarded or punished on its own without injustice being done to the body.

This emphasis on judgment in Athenagoras lies in contrast to his philosophical contemporaries. In his series on the History of Sexuality, Foucault outlines two elements of ethical systems, which he calls variously “codes of

26 Athen, DR 19.7

27 Athen, DR 20.2. τό τε τῆς ἀνοµίας ταύτης κεφάλαιον, ἀθεότης.

28 Athen, DR 21.1. Κατορθωµάτων τε γὰρ τιµωµένων, ἀδικηθήσεται τὸ σῶµα.

116 behavior” and “forms of subjectivation” (also called “practices of the self”).29 By codes of behavior, he refers to “rules and values that are operative in a given society or group, the agencies or mechanisms of constraint that enforce them,” namely rules, laws, institutions, and enforcement mechanisms. By “forms of subjectivation,” he means “the models proposed for setting up the developing relationship with the self…for the transformations that one seeks to accomplish with oneself as an object.”30 Foucault explains that,

In certain moralities the emphasis is placed on the code, on its systematicity….With moralities of this type, the important thing is to focus on the instances of authority that enforce the code, that require it to be learned and observed, that penalize infractions; in these conditions, the subjectivation occurs basically in a quasi-juridical form, where the ethical subject refers his conduct to a law, or set of laws, to which he must submit at the risk of committing offenses that may make him liable to punishment.31

Here, laws and their penalties offer a juridical ethical system in the production of moral subjects, as the subject learns to measure itself against standards imposed on it under threat.

Foucault contrasts ethical systems of “codes” in which punishment is at stake with those that emphasize “practices of the self” in the formation of ethical subjects.

It is this latter form that occupies his primary interest in his discussion of Greco-

Roman morality in the first two centuries of the Common Era. He explains, “what stands out in the texts of the first centuries—more than new interdictions concerning sexual acts—is the insistence on the attention that should be brought to

29 Michel Foucault, The Use of Pleasure, ed. Michel Foucault, Vintage Books ed., The History of Sexuality; V. 2 (New York: Vintage Books, 1990), 29.

30 Foucault, The Use of Pleasure, 29.

31 Foucault, The Use of Pleasure, 29-30.

117 bear on oneself; it is the modality, scope, constancy, and exactitude of the required vigilance….this added emphasis on sexual austerity in moral reflection takes the form, not of a tightening of the code that defined prohibited acts, but of an intensification of the relation to oneself by which one constituted oneself as the subject of one’s acts.”32

The practices of the self that develop in the first few centuries CE relied on a close relationship between the body and the soul, wherein the actions and dispositions of one had a correlative effect on the other. Teresa Shaw suggest there was a general recognition of three things regarding the body and the development of virtue:

First, moral virtues and vices are linked to the soul’s condition and health. Second, whatever the precise nature, substance, and constitution of the soul, it is somehow linked with the bodily senses and the procreative impulse….But third, at the same time both theories evince an evaluation of either the hegemonikon or the rational soul and a theoretical tendency to separate it, to a greater or lesser extent, from the flesh and bones body, its functions, and its drives….This contradiction or tension—between rhetorical hierarchy, or even opposition, of body and soul on the one hand and a practical recognition that the soul’s condition and character are subject to bodily influence, and therefore also to bodily management, on the other— runs throughout pagan and Christian ascetic literature of late antiquity…33

The tension between the increasing theorization of the connection between the body and the soul and its regulation through philosophical and medical discourses, and the insistence on the ontological division between the body and the soul, is reevaluated in Athenagoras’ defense of the resurrection. For Athenagoras, God’s last

32 Michel Foucault, The Care of the Self, ed. Michel Foucault, The History of Sexuality; V. 3 (London: Penguin Books, 1990), 41.

33 Shaw, The Burden of the Flesh, 32-33.

118 judgment established the philosophical basis for seeing the body and the soul as interrelated.

Athenagoras takes the opportunity to explore both the gaps and the tensions within the discourse about cultivation of the self. Athenagoras argues first that there is no guarantee that subjects will be sufficiently motivated to acquire virtue without a belief in the future existence of the body, and second, that the division between the body and soul is not fully bridged in these non-Christian discourses about the cultivation of virtue. Athenagoras introduces into the second-century

Christian conceptualization of the cultivation of the self not only punishment as a motivator, but also bodily punishment meted out with exactitude by God. The resurrected body permanently bridges the gap between the body and the soul in such a way as to guarantee their correspondence.

Judith Perkins’ analysis of Athenagoras’ reflection on judgment as an argument for the resurrection has tended to see it in a judicial context, rather than in the context of the development of virtue. Perkins notes correctly, “This concept that the whole person, body and soul, must be present for judgment, for reward and punishment is the foundation of the second century's emphasis on a material resurrection.”34 Yet Perkins sees this emphasis on judgment not in the context of the development of virtues, but as a response to a flawed Roman judicial authority.

However, Athenagoras’ emphasis on judgment is not only a critique of the socially

34 Judith Perkins, Roman Imperial Identities in the Early Christian Era, Routledge Monographs in Classical Studies (London ; New York: Routledge, 2009), 96.

119 imbalanced judicial system in the Roman Empire, but also entails a critique of the inability of any kind of temporal judgment in producing ethical subjects.

Athenagoras’ emphasis on punishment and judgment for the misdeeds of the body contributes to the discourse about the cultivation of the self in a crucial way.

Athenagoras offers a comment on the effectiveness of the turn to the cultivation of the self in the second century. In Athenagoras’ view, the emphasis on the cultivation of the self, at the expense of an eternal system of law and punishment, is singularly inadequate for the production of ethical subjects. If the acquisition of virtue is simply an “art of existence”—in Foucualt’s description of second-century philosophical movements, a voluntary act—such a system is bound to failure, according to Athenagoras. Together, these arguments lay out a philosophical perspective wherein the belief in the resurrection lays the foundation for the askesis necessary for developing virtue.35

Philosophy and the Human Body/Soul Relationship

Athenagoras’ emphasis on judgment is in the service of his larger argument for the interrelationship between the body and the soul. Though Athenagoras mentions that many Christians hold that the judgment is the whole purpose of the resurrection and constitutes alone a sufficient proof of the resurrection,

Athenagoras rebuts this claim.36 He argues that children and others who will not be

35 Athen, DR 15.7

36 Athen, DR 14.6

120 judged because they lack of culpability, for instance, will also be resurrected. There must then be other arguments for the resurrection besides judgment.

Athenagoras begins his articulation of the nature of the body and soul in a defensive posture, responding to two common objections to the resurrection of the body. The first objection argues that God is unable (ἀδύνατον), and the second that

God is unwilling (ἀβούλητον) to “draw together again dead bodies (or even those entirely decomposed) and restore them so as to constitute the very same humans.”37

The particular worry here has to do with the continuity between the mortal and resurrected person. The objection is that it is not possible for God to reconstruct the

“same” human being after it has died and dissolved. Such a problem is compounded when one notes that the elements of dead humans are often reabsorbed in the formation of living humans, making these elements a part of two or more persons.

This problem creates a difficulty for those who emphasize direct material continuity between the mortal and resurrected human, purportedly making it impossible for

God to separate out the elements constituting two or more persons in time, specifically through “chain-consumption.”

In his response, Athenagoras notes that “inability” does not pertain to God.

Inability arises from either a lack of power or a lack of knowledge, neither of which can be said about God. To demonstrate God’s ability, he begins his argument for the resurrection from creation.

37 Athen, DR 2.3. τὰ νεκρωθέντα τῶν σωµάτων ἢ καὶ πάντῃ διαλυθέντα πάλιν ἑνῶσαι καὶ συναγαγεῖν πρὸς τὴν τῶν αὐτῶν ἀνθρώπων σύστασιν.

121 ᾧ γὰρ οὐκ ἠγνόητο πρὸ τῆς οἰκείας ἑκάστου συστάσεως οὔτε τῶν γενησομένων στοιχείων ἡ φύσις, ἐξ ὧν τὰ τῶν ἀνθρώπων σώματα, οὔτε τὰ μέρη τούτων, ἐξ ὧν ἔμελλεν λήψεσθαι τὸ δόξαν πρὸς τὴν τοῦ ἀνθρωπείου σώματος σύστασιν, εὔδηλον ὡς οὐδὲ μετὰ τὸ διαλυθῆναι τὸ πᾶν ἀγνοηθήσεται ποῦ κεχώρηκεν ἕκαστον ὧν εἴληφεν πρὸς τὴν ἑκάστου συμπλήρωσιν.

Before the particular formation of individual things, [God] knew of the nature (φύσις) of the elements (στοιχείων) yet to be created from which human bodies arise; and he knew the parts (μέρη) of the elements from which he planned to select in order to form the human body. It is clear that after everything has dissolved, he will also know where everything has gone, which he will put back what was taken for the constitution of each thing.38

Inasmuch as God was able to organize the elements into human beings in creation, he will certainly be able to reproduce them again in the resurrection. God has both the knowledge and the power to perform such an act. This view of the creation lays the foundation for Athenagoras’s answer to the problem of chain consumption, which occupies his primary concern in the first half of the treatise. He argues, however, that if God was able to organize the elements out of disorder, he must also be capable of separating out the mixed parts.39

Here, Athenagoras shows awareness of philosophical arguments about the nature of humans and the nature of bodies. He argues that God’s power is able raise human bodies regardless of the constitutive principles. He mentions a number of different theories about the body:

καὶ τῷ λόγῳ βλάβος οὐδὲν, κἂν ἐξ ὕλης ὑποθῶνταί τινες τὰς πρώτας ἀρχάς, κἂν ἐκ τῶν στοιχείων ὡς πρώτων τὰ σώματα τῶν ἀνθρώπων, κἂν ἐκ σπερμάτων.

38 Athen, DR 2.5

39 Athen, DR 3.3

122 There is no damage done to our argument whether [some] suppose that the first principle (τὰς πρώτας ἀρχάς) arises from matter (ὕλης) or that human bodies have the elements (στοιχείων) as first principles or that they are made up of seed (σπερμάτων).40

The philosophers who advanced these arguments are not named. He may be referring to the pre-Socratics when he says that some considered “matter” as a first principle.41 Plato and Aristotle, as well as the Stoics, advanced the theory that the

“elements” were the first principle.42 Some medical writers saw “seed” as the first principle.43 Athenagoras displays a sort of philosophical agnosticism with respect to the precise substance of the human body, but such an approach functions to demonstrate how his views of the body could and should be held by all.

Athenagoras responds to the argument that God does not will the resurrection by noting that embodiment is neither unjust (ἄδικον) to human beings, nor is it unworthy (ἀνάξιον) of God to provide bodies to the dead.44 He invokes creation again as a paradigm and notes that providing bodies for mortal humans cannot be said to be unjust or unworthy of God, much less can it be said when God provides “incorruptible” bodies. He explains that, “if the soul is not wronged now when it dwells in a corruptible and passible body, much less will it be wronged

40 Athen, DR 3.2. καὶ τῷ λόγῳ βλάβος οὐδὲν, κἂν ἐξ ὕλης ὑποθῶνταί τινες τὰς πρώτας ἀρχάς, κἂν ἐκ τῶν στοιχείων ὡς πρώτων τὰ σώµατα τῶν ἀνθρώπων, κἂν ἐκ σπερµάτων.

41 Aetius, Plac. I.9.6. Ps. Justin, however, attributes this view to Plato. Ps. Justin, DR 6.1-17

42 Plato, Tim. 48 e-53 c; Aristotle, De Gen. et Corr. 2.1, 328b25.

43 Galen, De Nat. Fac. 1.6. The pre-Socratic Anaxagoras also argued that human beings were made up of σπερµάτα. Schoedel, Athenagoras: Legatio and De Resurrectione, 95, n1. For similar catalogues, see Iren. AH II.14.2; Ps. Justin, DR 6.1-17; M. Felix, Oct, V, 7.

44 Athen, DR 10.1

123 when it lives with an incorruptible and impassible one.”45 Rather, the soul yoked to the body has a special task to cultivate virtue. His argument extends beyond the possibility for the resurrection. Athenagoras offers the resurrected body as a more secure philosophical foundation for encouraging the soul to cultivate virtue.

Besides arguing from creation, Athenagoras turns to the “end” (τέλος) of human beings, though he acknowledges that this overlaps considerably with what he has already argued concerning judgment.46 He notes that all things have an

“end,” and that this is a “universal thought.”47 The “end” of each thing follows from its “nature,” and for this reason human beings have a distinctive end because they have a “distinctive nature.”48 Yet he refutes some of the common philosophical assessments of the “end” of human beings. The “end” cannot simply be freedom from pain, because it has in common with objects without sensation. Nor can the end be pleasure, “or it is necessary that the life of beasts take precedence, and the virtuous life be of no end.”49 He seems to have in mind here the Stoics and

Epicureans, respectively.50

Athenagoras’s insistence upon a unified, albeit composite, human being informs his view of the “end” of human beings. This “end” must be for the entire

45 Athen, DR 10.5. εἰ γὰρ νῦν ἐν φθαρτῷ καὶ παθητῷ κατοικοῦσα σώµατι µηδὲν ἠδίκηται, πολὺ µᾶλλον ἀφθάρτῳ καὶ ἀπαθεῖ συζῶσα οὐκ ἀδικηθήσεται.

46 Athen, DR 24.1. The overlap is especially noted in 13.3, 14.5, 15.2-3, and 18.1-2.

47 Athen, DR 24.2. κοινῆς πάντων ἐννοίας. The notion of acting in accordance with one’s “end” had particular value in Stoic philosophy. Marc. Aurelius, Meditations, II, 16; V, 1

48 Athen, DR 24.4. ἰδιαζούσης ὂν φύσεως.

49 Athen, DR 24.5. ἢ πρωτεύειν ἀνάγκη τὸν κτηνώδη βίον, ἀτελῆ δ’ εἶναι τὸν κατ’ ἀρετήν.

50 Pouderon, Athénagore, 206-7.

124 human, not its separate parts alone.51 For this reason, the “end” of human beings requires the resurrection of the “same body,” including sexual differences, matched to the “same soul.”52 This end is one in which the human beings are fully united in body and soul “to rejoice unceasingly in the contemplation of their Giver and his decrees” not subjected by the pleasures and distractions that affect so many in this world.53 Thus, the telos of one’s future life is the same for the present life: to live virtuously, which is only possible in sexual differentiated bodies. These virtues, he will argue, are particularly concerned with sexuality.

Mastery Over Desire

Athenagoras testifies that both Christians and non-Christians deny the resurrection. He worries that the opinions of the unbelievers and doubters “give comfort to the licentious (ἀκολάστοις).”54 For Athenagoras, his concern for licentiousness, a sexually inflected sin, rested on a proper understanding of the body’s relationship to desire. Do desires come from the soul, the body, or some combination of both? If both the body and the soul are resurrected, will not these desires rise as well?

Athenagoras argues that souls alone cannot be the genesis of desire. How could the soul, an incorruptible substance, have hunger, or greed for possessions, or fears? For this reason, it is “absurd for the passions to be attributed to the souls as

51 Athen, DR 25.2

52 Athen, DR 25.3

53 Athen, DR 25.4. τῇ τε θεωρίᾳ τοῦ δόντος καὶ τῶν ἐκείνῳ δεδογµένων ἀπαύστως ἐπαγάλλεσθαι.

54 Athen, DR 2.2. τὸ τοῖς ἀκολάστοις κεχαρισµένον.

125 such.”55 Virtue and vice cannot be ascribed to the soul, since it is only through the complete human, when the soul interacts with the body, that virtue and vice are even possible.

ἢ πῶς ἄν τις καὶ νοήσειεν ἐπὶ ψυχῆς μόνης ἀνδρείαν ἢ καρτερίαν, οὐκ ἐχούσης οὐ θανάτου φόβον οὐ τραύματος οὐ πηρώσεως οὐ ζημίας οὐκ αἰκίας οὐ τῶν ἐπὶ τούτοις ἀλγημάτων ἢ τῆς ἐκ τούτων κακοπαθείας; πῶς δὲ ἐγκράτειαν καὶ σωφροσύνην, οὐδεμιᾶς ἑλκούσης αὐτὴν ἐπιθυμίας πρὸς τροφὴν ἢ μῖξιν ἢ τὰς ἄλλας ἡδονάς τε καὶ τέρψεις οὐδ’ ἄλλου τινὸς οὔτ’ ἔσωθεν ἐνοχλοῦντος οὔτ’ ἔξωθεν ἐρεθίζοντος; πῶς δὲ φρόνησιν, οὐχ ὑποκειμένων αὐτῇ πρακτέων καὶ μὴ πρακτέων οὐδ’ αἱρετῶν καὶ φευκτῶν, μᾶλλον δὲ μηδεμιᾶς ἐνούσης αὐτῇ κινήσεως τὸ παράπαν ἢ φυσικῆς ὁρμῆς ἐπί τι τῶν πρακτέων; ποῦ δὲ ὅλως ψυχαῖς ἡ πρὸς ἀλλήλας δικαιοσύνη προσφυὴς ἢ πρὸς ἄλλο τι τῶν ὁμογενῶν ἢ τῶν ἑτερογενῶν,

How can any one have even the notion of courage (ἀνδρείαν) or fortitude (καρτερίαν) as existing in the soul alone, when it has no fear of death, or wounds, or maiming, or loss, or maltreatment, or of the pain connected with these, or the suffering resulting from them? And what shall we say of self- control (ἐγκράτειαν) and temperance (σωφροσύνην), when there is no desire drawing it to food or sexual intercourse (μῖξιν), or other pleasures and enjoyments, nor any other thing soliciting it from within or exciting it from without? And what of prudence (φρόνησιν), when things are not proposed to it which may or may not be done, nor things to be chosen or avoided, or rather when there is in it no motion at all or natural impulse towards the doing of anything? And how in any sense can justice (δικαιοσύνη) be an attribute of souls, either in their relation with each other or some other being like or unlike them?56

This passage indicates the extent of Athenagoras’ engagement with the philosophical tradition.57 He enumerates the four cardinal virtues of Stoic philosophy: courage (ἀνδρεία) or fortitude (καρτερία), temperance (σωφροσύνη),

55 Athen, DR 21.8. τὸ τὰ πάθη ταῖς ψυχαῖς ἰδιαζόντως προσάπτειν ἄτοπον.

56 Athen, DR 22.2-5

57 In his discussion of justice, he notes the categories used by Aristotle, “that which is equal according to dessert,” and “that which is proportionally equal.” Athen, DR 22.5; Aristotle, Pol. V, 1, 2; V, 1, 12 (1301a26, 1301b31).

126 prudence (φρόνησις), and justice (δικαιοσύνη).58 He adds to these other common virtues discussed in philosophy such as self-control (ἐγκράτεια). By framing the resurrection of the body in the discussion of the virtues, he insists that such virtues are only possible with the body and soul in union, when the soul can control the desires of the body.

Not only are the traditional philosophical virtues unattainable without the body and the soul corresponding, so too are the biblical commandments. Invoking the Ten Commandments, Athenagoras argues that it is not possible for them to be obeyed by the soul alone. The commandments against “adultery, murder, theft, robbery, dishonor of parents, and in general all desire (ἐπιθυμία, or covetousness) which arises to injure or harm our neighbors,” are only observed by bodies and souls together, not souls alone.59 Athenagoras’ emphasis on the importance of the body in the cultivation of virtue and obedience to the commandments links together

Greco-Roman and Jewish-Christian discourses about virtue as harmonious goals that are both achieved by understanding the proper relationship between the soul and the body.

The precise way in which the body and soul correspond to one another, especially with respect to desire, is a disputed issue in second century philosophy.60

58 Plutarch, De Stoic. Rep. 1034c; Arnim, Svf, I, 20.; Diogenes Laetius, VII, 126.

59 Athen, DR 23.2. οἷον µοιχείας φόνου κλοπῆς ἁρπαγῆς τῆς κατὰ τῶν γεννησάντων ἀτιµίας πάσης τε κοινῶς τῆς ἐπ’ ἀδικίᾳ καὶ βλάβῃ τῶν πέλας γινοµένης ἐπιθυµίας. Missing from this list are the commandments to worship God alone, not make idols, refrain from taking the Lord’s name in vain, observe the Sabbath, and to not lie.

60 Leslie Barnard explains situates Athenagoras within the context of an “eclectic” Middle Platonism. Barnard, Athenagoras, 44. However, Barnard mainly relies on the Legatio in his characterization of Athenagoras’ philosophy (he accepts the authenticity of DR). A detailed study of the philosophical

127 Cicero explains that virtue is achieved in the soul, not through the actions of the body.61 Similarly, in the articulation offered by the Stoics, medicine healed the body, while philosophy healed the soul.62 In spite of the emphasis on materiality in the

Stoic cosmos, Tad Brennan argues that when it came to Stoic ethics, “human beings were of such a nature that, for the purposes of understanding their good, they might as well be purely psychic entities.”63 This view that the soul is the source of action rejected the possibility that the body impinged on the soul in some way. If the soul is active and the body is passive, one cannot say that the body has any activity of its own. According to this logic, the passions must be rooted in the soul itself.

Other writers argued that both the soul and the body had desires, and the goal was for practitioners to bring them into correlation. The physician Rufus of

Ephesus suggested, “it is best that the man indulge in sexual intercourse when he is pressed at the same time by the soul’s desire and the body’s needs.”64 This symbiotic relationship between the soul and the body is paradoxically captured in

Rufus’s dictum: “subdue the soul and make it obey the body.”65 Whereas it was common to expect that the soul was meant to rule the body, Rufus suggests that the

perspectives of De Resurrectione on its own in relationship to wider philosophical discussions has yet to be written.

61 Cicero, Fin. 3.32. Quoted in Martha Craven Nussbaum, The Therapy of Desire: Theory and Practice in Hellenistic Ethics, Martin Classical Lectures ; New Ser., V. 2 (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1994), 365-66.

62 Nussbaum, Therapy of Desire, 316.

63 Tad Brennan, The Stoic Life: Emotions, Duties, and Fate (Oxford; New York: Clarendon Press; Oxford University Press, 2005), 129.

64 Quote in Foucault, The Care of the Self, 134.

65 Quote in Foucault, The Care of the Self, 135.

128 body has needs that the soul needs to respect, such as defecation, urination, and sexual discharge. In contrast, the soul may suffer from desires for which there is no corresponding need from the body, such as those induced by “images” in dreaming, reading, dancing, and singing.66

Athenagoras’s view is even more radical than these, as we have seen, denying that the “passions” may be attributed to the soul at all. If mastering the soul’s relationship to the body is the how virtue is practiced, defining the nature of the relationship between the soul and the body warrants special attention. In fact, every virtue requires the interaction between the body and the soul. Athenagoras explains that the resurrection is necessary in order to justify the pursuit of virtue at all. The anthropology that Athenagoras constructs anticipates his concern for the cultivation of virtue. If the soul continues on without the body, then the virtues are in vain.

ἀναστάσεως γὰρ μὴ γινομένης, οὐκ ἂν ἡ τῶν ἀνθρώπων ὡς ἀνθρώπων διαμένοι φύσις· τῆς δὲ τῶν ἀνθρώπων φύσεως μὴ διαμενούσης, μάτην μὲν ἡ ψυχὴ συνήρμοσται τῇ τοῦ σώματος ἐνδείᾳ καὶ τοῖς τούτου πάθεσιν, μάτην δὲ τὸ σῶμα πεπέδηται πρὸς τὸ τυγχάνειν ὧν ὀρέγεται, ταῖς τῆς ψυχῆς ἡνίαις ὑπεῖκον καὶ χαλιναγωγούμενον, μάταιος δὲ ὁ νοῦς, ματαία δὲ φρόνησις καὶ δικαιοσύνης παρατήρησις ἢ καὶ πάσης ἀρετῆς ἄσκησις καὶ νόμων θέσις καὶ διάταξις….δεῖ πάντως τῷ τῆς ψυχῆς ἀτελευτήτῳ συνδιαιωνίζειν τὴν τοῦ σώματος διαμονὴν κατὰ τὴν οἰκείαν φύσιν.

For if there is no resurrection, the nature of humans as humans would not persist. And if the nature of humans does not persist, in vain has the soul been fit together with the needs of the body and its passions (πάθεσιν); and in vain has the body, yielding to the reins of the soul and being bridled, been shackled from obtaining what it yearns for. Vain is intelligence; vain is prudence (φρόνησις) and righteous observance or the practice of every virtue (πάσης ἀρετῆς ἄσκησις) and the setting and arrangement of laws….It is absolutely necessary that the deathlessness of the soul should continue

66 Foucault, The Care of the Self, 136-39.

129 eternally with the permanence of the body according to their own appropriate nature.67

Athenagoras articulates his view concerning the relationship of the soul to the body, emphasizing that there is no point to all of this training (ἄσκησις) of the soul and the body unless they continue to be united at some point after death. He explains that the soul is supposed to learn to regulate the body and that the body is supposed to learn to be regulated by the soul.

Here, both the soul and body may act and the human being is supposed to learn the correct balance. Modifying Plato’s image of the bit and bridle of the winged charioteer to control the passions of the soul,68 Athenagoras insists that the passions spring from the body alone, not from the soul.69 It is the soul that must control the passions of the body. Unless the soul “masters” the body, the body is allowed to assert its own will. The body and soul are depicted as adversarial component parts of a whole.

καὶ μὴν καὶ πλημμελημάτων κρινομένων οὐ σῴζεται τῇ ψυχῇ τὸ δίκαιον, εἴ γε μόνη τίνοι δίκην ὑπὲρ ὧν ἐνοχλοῦντος τοῦ σώματος καὶ πρὸς τὰς οἰκείας ὀρέξεις ἢ κινήσεις ἕλκοντος ἐπλημμέλησεν ποτὲ μὲν κατὰ συναρπαγὴν καὶ κλοπήν, ποτὲ δὲ κατά τινα βιαιοτέραν ὁλκήν, ἄλλοτε δὲ κατὰ συνδρομὴν ἐν χάριτος μέρει καὶ θεραπείας τῆς τούτου συστάσεως. ἢ πῶς οὐκ ἄδικον τὴν ψυχὴν κρίνεσθαι καθ’ ἑαυτὴν ὑπὲρ ὧν οὐδ’ ἡντινοῦν ἔχει κατὰ τὴν ἑαυτῆς φύσιν οὐκ ὄρεξιν οὐ κίνησιν οὐχ ὁρμήν, οἷον λαγνείας ἢ βίας ἢ πλεονεξίας [ἀδικίας] καὶ τῶν ἐπὶ τούτοις ἀδικημάτων; εἰ γὰρ τὰ πλεῖστα τῶν τοιούτων γίνεται κακῶν ἐκ τοῦ μὴ κατακρατεῖν τοὺς ἀνθρώπους τῶν ἐνοχλούντων παθῶν, ἐνοχλοῦνται δὲ ὑπὸ τῆς τοῦ σώματος ἐνδείας καὶ χρείας καὶ τῆς περὶ τοῦτο σπουδῆς καὶ θεραπείας.

67 Athen, DR 15.7-8

68 Plato, Phaedrus, 254a-e.

69 Athen, DR 21.8

130 When transgressions are judged, justice is not saved for the soul, if it alone repays justice for the things when the body troubled it and stretched it to the things of the body or dragging it in motion it transgresses sometimes according to the body’s whims and surprises, some times according to some violent dragging, and other times according to a combination of a share of grace and service to the substance of the body. Or how is it not unjust for the soul to be judged by itself for that which according to its own nature (κατὰ τὴν ἑαυτῆς φύσιν), does not have by appetite, nor movement, nor impulse, such as lust, violence, [unjust] greed,70 and the injustices among them? For the majority of such evils are from humans not gaining mastery over (κατακρατεῖν) the passions that trouble them, and these trouble [the soul] by the needs and wants of the body and the care (σπουδῆς) and concern (θεραπείας) for it.71

Here, the soul is depicted as frequently troubled by the body, its needs and desires.

The body operates on the soul in a sometimes violent manner to satisfy its propensities. The soul by itself does not have by nature movement or impulse.

Athenagoras draws on the account of the soul as the seat of reason and mastery and the body as the seat of passions. He argues that virtue is when the soul has achieved

“mastery” over the passions of the body. The issue raised here is that the soul cannot sin or be virtuous apart from the body, so it should not be judged without the body.

The issue of sexual difference as it relates to the body, moreover, figures in the feminized depiction of the body itself. Athenagoras adopts the language of activity and passivity to describe the soul and body respectively.72 Such language belongs to the discourse of sexual differentiation in antiquity. The soul was seen as

70 Or, “greed or injustice” in the mss. Schoedel, Athenagoras: Legatio and De Resurrectione, 138.

71 Athen, DR 21.2

72 Cf. Athen, DR 15.2

131 an active, masculine substance, and the body as a passive, feminine substance.

Athenagoras accepts this discourse of sexual differentiation as it applies to the body and soul, even if he isn’t always consistent, sometime saying the body also acts.73

The active/passive distinction was typically employed to demonstrate the superiority of the soul. For Plato, for instance, the soul is immortal because it is a self-mover, while the body is mortal because it is moved by something else.74 For

Zeno, the founder of Stoicism, “two principles, an active and a passive one, lie at the root of all things. The passive principle is the unqualified substance of matter, and the active principle in it is the Logos or God. Being eternal, the Logos forms all individual things out of matter.”75 Human potential is realized when the soul of the person is in proper relationship to the body. When the body begins to exert active influence on the soul, and the soul is in a passive position, the human being is in disharmony. The active/passive relationship is not simply descriptive, but prescriptive, outlining the ideal relationship between the body and soul.

Here, however, Athenagoras makes the argument that both the active and passive, and the soul and body, are necessary to what it means to be human. If the purpose of creation is to create an immortal being, Athenagoras derives from this that humans will be immortal. But what is the nature of a human being? He argues that the connection of the body and soul is evidence that neither will survive

73 These terms are both used to describe the body, which both acts and is acted upon passively in Athen, DR 20.1. In 5.1, he uses “active” and “passive” to refer to different aspects of digestion, perhaps following Aristotle De Gen. et Corr. I. 6-10, 315b2-328b22, or Galen De Nat. Fac. 1.2, 1.3, 1.14, 2.8.

74 Plato, Phaedrus, 245de

75 Arnim, SVF, I, 85.

132 independently but that they should be in “one harmony and concord.”76 The human being is a psychosomatic unity. This concord is achieved when the masculinized soul actively masters the passive, feminized body.

Sexual Practice and Sexual Difference

While the particular description of the active, masculinized soul and the passive, femininized body reinforces discourses of sexual hierarchy, what does

Athenagoras make of sexual ethics, and how does sexual difference relate to the material body? These two issues are closely related for Athenagoras because, as we have seen, he argues that both reproduction and sexual virtue are only possible in the sexually differentiated body. His sexual ethics begin from his treatment of reproduction as an authorized practice.77

We have seen that Athenagoras imagines a mastery of the passions or desires as essential to salvation, and that human beings will be judged for their misuse of their bodies. What then does Athenagoras have to say about reproduction? Like Ps.

Justin, Athenagoras evaluates reproduction within the framework of natural and necessary “needs.” However, Athenagoras comes to the opposite conclusions as Ps.

Justin regarding the “need” for sexual practice.

ὅ γε μὴν ἄνθρωπος, περὶ οὗ νῦν πρόκειται λέγειν, ὡς μὲν ἐνδεὴς δεῖται τροφῆς, ὡς δὲ θνητὸς διαδοχῆς, ὡς δὲ λογικὸς δίκης. εἰ δὲ τῶν εἰρημένων ἕκαστόν ἐστιν ἀνθρώπῳ κατὰ φύσιν.

The human being, concerning whom we set forth to say something, being needful, it requires food, being mortal it requires offspring, and being logical

76 Athen, DR 15.3. µία ἐστιν ἁρµονία τοῦ ζῴου παντὸς καὶ συµπάθεια.

77 Athenagoras takes a similar view in Leg. 33.1-3.

133 it requires justice. Each of these things said is according to nature for a human being (ἀνθρώπῳ κατὰ φύσιν).78

Here, reproduction is taken to be every bit as “according to nature” as the need for food and the need for justice. These needs are taken to be natural (κατὰ φύσιν), which makes them also necessary. It is not sexual desire or even sexual practices per se that are according to nature, but simply reproduction. Having successors is a necessity of mortality.

Though Athenagoras accepts reproduction as a natural practice, he insists that the passions themselves are to be controlled. Given God’s providence over all creation, Athenagoras argues that the body and the soul will be judged for their mastery of the passions. The soul cannot be judged alone for the deeds it committed in the body.

εἰ δὲ κατὰ τοῦ συναμφοτέρου φέρει τὴν ἐπὶ τοῖς εἰργασμένοις δίκην ἡ δικαία κρίσις καὶ μήτε τὴν ψυχὴν μόνην δεῖ κομίσασθαι τὰ ἐπίχειρα τῶν μετὰ τοῦ σώματος εἰργασμένων (ἀπροσπαθὴς γὰρ αὕτη καθ’ ἑαυτὴν τῶν περὶ τὰς σωματικὰς ἡδονὰς ἢ τροφὰς καὶ θεραπείας γινομένων πλημμελημάτων) μήτε τὸ σῶμα μόνον (ἄκριτον γὰρ τοῦτο καθ’ ἑαυτὸ νόμου καὶ δίκης), ὁ δὲ ἐκ τούτων ἄνθρωπος τὴν ἐφ’ ἑκάστῳ τῶν εἰργασμένων αὑτῷ δέχεται κρίσιν,

If each bears judgment for its deeds, it is necessary to provide just judgment for the wages of the works of the body not for the soul alone—for the soul as itself is free from the service [θεραπείας] of the faults related to bodily pleasure [σωματικὰς ἡδονὰς] or food; nor for the body alone—for the body itself cannot judge by itself law and justice, but the human being from both of these things, receives judgment for each of its deeds.79

Although food and reproduction are “natural,” the human being will be held accountable for the pleasures it takes in these actions. For Athenagoras, the soul is

78 Athen, DR 18.4

79 Athen, DR 18.5

134 not capable of pleasure without the body. Only the fully human subject, both body and soul, can be held responsible. Instead, quoting Paul (1 Cor 15:53), the corruptible must put on the incorruptible to receive a just reward (or punishment).80

When Athenagoras thinks about reproduction, he argues that it is natural.

He also uses the concept of reproduction to suggest to solves certain epistemological problems concerning the apparent impossibility for the body to be reassembled after death. Athenagoras uses the example of semen to make an epistemological point that not all truth can be derived from deduction. Ps. Justin makes a similar point.

Ἔτι δὲ καὶ τὴν μετὰ ταῦτα ἐξ ἀλλήλων γένεσιν κατανοοῦσιν ἔστιν ἰδεῖν, καὶ θαυμάσαι μειζόνως, ὅτι ἐξ ἐλαχίστης ῥανίδος ὑγροῦ τηλικοῦτον πλάσσεται ζῶον. Καίτοι γε εἰ ἐν ἐπαγγελίᾳ καὶ τοῦτο ἦν καὶ μὴ ἐφαίνετο γινόμενον, πολὺ τῶν ἄλλων ἦν ἀπιστότερον· ἀλλὰ γὰρ πιστότερον αὐτὸ ποιεῖ τὸ ἀποτέλεσμα.

And again, besides these things, it is possible for those who consider it to see the generation of humans from one another, and to marvel more greatly, that from a small drop of fluid a great living being is formed. Certainly, if this was in promise and not evident that it happens, it would be more unbelievable than others, but its completion makes it believable.81

The “drop of fluid” is the source of the formation of a living being, but the point here is that such a thing would be “unbelievable” except that it happens in reality. Ps.

Justin uses this example to demonstrate the possibility of God’s power to perform the resurrection, even though it might seem unbelievable.

80 Athen, DR 18.5

81 Ps. Justin, DR 5.7-9

135 Rather than a demonstration of the power of God as Ps. Justin uses it,

Athenagoras uses semen to explain the persistent continuity of identity through different stages of human existence. “Undifferentiated and formless semen” contains all the substances of the body. Semen transforms itself and develops.

Similarly, children change as they become first young adults, then adults, and finally elderly.82 One could not deduce the “truth” of what will occur from semen itself, because only experience confirms it. Yet the truth of the resurrection is even trustworthier than semen because its truth discloses itself before experience.83 The epistemological point here is not about the power of God, but about the changes that are possible with the body, which entails an eventual change into a resurrected body. In neither author, however, is the example of semen meant as an affirmation of reproduction itself, rather the example of semen is used to solve a different logical problem in both authors.

The regulation of the pleasures of reproduction is rooted in the model of the resurrected body itself. Just as there will not be nutrition or consumption of food in the resurrection, neither will there be reproduction. In the same way that the capacities for nutrition have no purpose in the resurrection, so the capacities for reproduction are also obviated. Nevertheless, Athenagoras insists that the “parts” of the body, including those associated with reproduction, will be raised in order that they may be judged. The morphological sexual difference of the body will persist for the sake of continuity of the same body, even though it no longer reproduces.

82 Athen, DR 17.2. ὁµοιοµερεῖ καὶ ἀδιαπλάστῳ τῷ σπέρµατι.

83 Athen, DR 17.4

136 Parts and Chain Consumption

Athenagoras emphasizes the continuity of the “parts” of the mortal body with the resurrected body, just as Ps. Justin and, in his own way, the author of EpRheg.

With all this insistence on strict continuity between each individual body and its resurrected counterpart, one would be forgiven for not noticing that Athenagoras describes a resurrected body that is quite different from the mortal body. The change in the context of the body requires that the body be changed as well.

Athenagoras insists that the various, decomposed bits of the bodies of the dead are raised in the same form in which they now appear, including the substances of parts of the body. Indeed, “the living being will be purely the same if everything is the same which serve as its parts (μερῶν).”84

This reduction of bodily continuity to “parts,” then, excludes the problems associated with the flesh, such as change and transformation. The body, as a passive agent, accepts these “changes” (μεταβολάς), including “age, appearance, size, and resurrection.”85 Here, the resurrection is seen as the final “change” that the body will go through: “The resurrection is a certain change (μεταβολῆς), and the last of all, and a change for the better of what still remains in existence at that time.”86 It is precisely on this issue of “changes,” however, that Athenagoras’ resurrected bodies

84 Athen, DR 15.3. τὸ αὐτὸ δὲ ζῷον ἔσται καθαρῶς, τῶν αὐτῶν ὄντων πάντων ἐξ ὧν ὡς µερῶν τὸ ζῷον.

85 Athen, DR 12.8. κατὰ τὰς ἡλικίας ἢ κατ’ εἶδος ἢ µέγεθος τὴν ἀνάστασιν.

86 Athen, DR 12.9. εἶδος γάρ τι µεταβολῆς καὶ πάντων ὗστατον ἡ ἀνάστασις ἥ τε τῶν κατ᾽ἐκεῖνον τὸν χρόνον περιόντων ἔτι πρὸς τὸ κρεῖττον µεταβολή.

137 disrupt the discourses of sexual difference, even while emphasizing that resurrected bodies have all of their “parts.”

This account of the body and change appears when Athenagoras is answering the problem of human degeneration, and also with the problem of chain consumption.87 Chain consumption is the theory that in the process of eating the flesh of another being, the body assimilates the substance of what is being eaten, so as to make the body comprised of other bodies. If human bodies are made up of elements of other human bodies that preceded them, how can they each be raised in the resurrection? How can they each be judged if the bits of the body in judgment are spread across numerous other bodies?

Chain consumption arises in practical ways when animals or fish eat human beings who are improperly buried, which unites their bodies with the bodies of these creatures.88 This issue is compounded when human beings then eat those animals that have been nourished by human beings, which makes it inevitable that human beings feed indirectly on the bodies of other human beings, inseparably

87 Grant argues that the “chain-consumption” discussion dates the text to the fourth century, noting that “pagan” opponents like Celsus had not yet mentioned this argument. (Grant, "Athenagoras or Pseudo- Athenagoras."). However, the problem that animals eating human flesh created for the resurrection had been around since at least the early 130’s. The Apocalypse of Peter similarly acknowledges the problem of chain consumption and God’s power to put the flesh back where it belongs: “And the beasts and the fowls shall he command to give back all flesh that they have devoured, since he desires that men should appear again; for nothing perishes for God, and nothing is impossible with him, since all things are his.” (Ap. Pet. 4.) Tertullian is worried about animals and fish eating humans, but not humans eating those animals (De Res. Carn. 32). Origen discusses the problem of humans eating animals that have eaten humans, preserved in Methodius’s epitome (Res. 1:20-4). Pouderon situates this argument in Galenic medicine. Pouderon, "La Chaîne Alimentaire Chez Athénagore. Confrontation De Sa Théorie Digestive Avec La Science Médicale De Son Temps."

88 Athen, DR 4.1

138 uniting their bodies.89 Not only is this indirect cannibalism a problem, but there also are known instances of direct cannibalism, whether out of desperation, madness, or deception.90 If humans have been nourished on other humans, this produces a problem for separating the parts of bodies.91 Such an argument had apparently persuaded many Christians that “greatly upset some people even among those admired for their wisdom.”92

The mixing of human elements created a theological problem for

Athenagoras’s view of the resurrection, which insisted on the reconstitution of the material and bodily parts of each individual human being. The main concern is that the body’s individual integrity needs to be preserved. In response, Athenagoras appeals to medical arguments about nutrition. He explains that, “[God] adapted to the nature (φύσει) and species (γένει) of each animal a suitable and appropriate food.”93 On this basis, not all foods are digestible by all animals, but only that food which nourishes them.94 The only thing that is properly called “food” nourishes

“according to nature” (κατὰ φύσιν)95 the body of the species that consumes it, while

89 Athen, DR 4.2

90 Athen, DR 4.3. For accounts of these instances, see Josephus, BJ 6.199-219 (cf. Eusebius, HE 3.6.1-7.6); Apollodorus 2.2.2; 3.5.2.

91 Athen, DR 4.4

92 Athen, DR 3.3. µάλιστα ταράττειν ἔδοξέν τινας καὶ τῶν ἐπὶ σοφίᾳ θαυµαζοµένων. Cf. Methodius, DR, 1.20.4; 2.26.2-5.

93 Athen, DR 5.1. ἑκάστου ζῴου φύσει καὶ γένει τὴν προσφυῆ καὶ κατάλληλον συναρµόσαντος τροφὴν.

94 Athen, DR 5.1-3

95 Athen, DR 6.1

139 the stuff that is “contrary to nature” (παρὰ φύσιν)96 is expelled. In this way, human bodies cannot be nourished on other human bodies, and they simply pass through the digestive tract unassimilated.

Though Athenagoras explores the possibility that human flesh nourishes human bodies, he does not dare to admit it. Once he has demonstrated in what way resurrected bodies are free from the substance of other human bodies, Athenagoras turns the tables and accuses the non-believers of cannibalism if they accept that human bodies can be composed of other human bodies through chain consumption.

This inversion of the second-century accusation that Christians were cannibals is a clever rhetorical move. This insistence by his opponents that human beings are made up of other human beings constitutes for him an outright admission that cannibalism is “according to nature” (κατὰ φύσιν). He suggests that if they really believe that human bodies provide nutrition to other human bodies, that they go ahead and feast upon them directly.97 Yet, he reasons, everyone knows that feasting on human flesh is unnatural, and if “contrary to nature” (παρὰ φύσιν), it cannot nourish the body but just passes through.98 In this way, Athenagoras maintains the discrete uniqueness of each human body’s individual parts as the guarantee of the continuity of identity between the mortal and resurrected bodies.

Humors and the Resurrected Body

96 Athen, DR 6.2

97 Athen, DR 8.2

98 Athen, DR 8.3

140 In the discussion of nourishment, Athenagoras suggests the primary point of difference between the mortal and resurrected bodies is change. On this point,

Athenagoras confronts the problem that the flesh itself is constantly changing and engages with theories of the bodily humors. How could such a changeable substance possibly be resurrected? Yet the changeability of the flesh serves as an asset to Athenagoras here.

οὐδ’ οὕτως ἀνάγκη τις ἔσται τὴν νεωστὶ μεταβληθεῖσαν ἐκ τῆς τοιᾶσδε τροφῆς σάρκα προσπελάσασαν ἑτέρου τινὸς ἀνθρώπου σώματι πάλιν ὡς μέρος εἰς τὴν ἐκείνου τελεῖν συμπλήρωσιν.

Thus it will be no necessity that someone whose flesh is just now changed from such food and attached itself to the body of some other person will contribute to the completion of that other body again.99

If human flesh can contribute to the nourishment of the flesh of another human, there is no reason to believe that it forms a part of that human by necessity. Rather, just as easily as it was added to the flesh of another, it can also be removed. The flesh is subject to such great “transformation” (μεταβολὴν); sometimes becoming fat (πιμελῇ), other times become withered away.100

These arguments about food and digestion bear close resemblance to those of Galen. 101 For Galen too, nutrition constitutes “assimilation.”102 Yet, not all foods

99 Athen DR. 7.2

100 Athen DR. 7.2

101 Barnard argues that there is a direct correspondence. Barnard, Athenagoras, 53-59. Pouderon, however, believes that these ideas belong to a shared milieu, and no direct relationship is necessary to explain the shared material. I think that Pouderon is convincing in disproving a direct relationship to any of the medical literature, which explains Athenagoras’s confusion and scant familiarity with the technical terms. Pouderon, "La Chaîne Alimentaire Chez Athénagore. Confrontation De Sa Théorie Digestive Avec La Science Médicale De Son Temps.", Pouderon, Athenagoras: Supplique Au Sujet Des Chrétiens; Et, Sur La Résurrection Des Morts, 334-38, Pouderon, D'athènes À Alexandrie: Études Sur Athénagore Et Les Origines De La Philosophie Chrétienne, 238-51.

141 can provide nutrition to all animals. In describing the processes of genesis, growth, and nutrition, he notes that different animals are nourished by different foods, and thus have different organs for the process.

For since the action of this faculty is assimilation, and it is impossible for anything to be assimilated by, and to change into anything else unless they already possess a certain community and affinity in their qualities, therefore, in the first place, any animal cannot naturally derive nourishment from any kind of food, and secondly, even in the case of those from which it can do so, it cannot do this at once.103

Here, Galen argues that there are different foods for different animals. Athenagoras puts these arguments to use to make the case that it is not possible for human beings to absorb the bodies of other human beings in digestion. At the same time, he allows for two important concessions in the case that humans might actually be nourished by human flesh. In these discussions, Athenagoras gives some descriptions about the nature of the resurrected body.

In classical medicine, nutrition constitutes the transformation of food into something “wet or dry or hot or cold,” and Athenagoras worries about precisely this

102 Galen, De Nat. Fac. 1.8: “We have, then, it seems, arrived at the subject of Nutrition, which is the third and remaining consideration which we proposed at the outset. For, when the matter which flows to each part of the body in the form of nutriment is being worked up into it, this activity is nutrition, and its cause is the nutritive faculty. Of course, the kind of activity here involved is also an alteration, but not an alteration like that occurring at the stage of genesis. For in the latter case something comes into existence which did not exist previously, while in nutrition the inflowing material becomes assimilated to that which has already come into existence. Therefore, the former kind of alteration has with reason been termed genesis, and the latter, assimilation.” All translations from Arthur John Brock, Galen on the Natural Faculties, Loeb Classical Library (New York; London: G.P. Putnam's Sons; W. Heinemann, 1928).

103 Galen, De Nat. Fac. I.10. Brock, Galen on the Natural Faculties.

142 transformation.104 These qualities were considerably debated among ancient philosophers and physicians, from Aristotle on.105 According to Galen,

If you wish to know which alterative faculties are primary and elementary, they are moisture, dryness, coldness, and warmth, and if you wish to know which ones arise from the combination of these, they will be found to be in each animal of a number corresponding to its sensible elements.106

These are the most basic qualities that pertain to all created substances. In the process of generation (the creation of a new human being) and alteration (the growth of that human being), these qualities are at work.107 On many occasions,

Athenagoras offers arguments that appear to be similar to those of Galen. While

104 Athen, DR 7.1

105 For example, Galen recounts these De Nat. Fac. I.3: “It appears to me, then, that the vein, as well as each of the other parts, functions in such and such a way according to the manner in which the four qualities are mixed. There are, however, a considerable number of not undistinguished men- philosophers and physicians- who refer action to the Warm and the Cold, and who subordinate to these, as passive, the Dry and the Moist; Aristotle, in fact, was the first who attempted to bring back the causes of the various special activities to these principles, and he was followed later by the Stoic school. These latter, of course, could logically make active principles of the Warm and Cold, since they refer the change of the elements themselves into one another to certain diffusions and condensations. This does not hold of Aristotle, however; seeing that he employed the four qualities to explain the genesis of the elements, he ought properly to have also referred the causes of all the special activities to these. How is it that he uses the four qualities in his book "On Genesis and Destruction," whilst in his "Meteorology," his "Problems," and many other works he uses the uses the two only? Of course, if anyone were to maintain that in the case of animals and plants the Warm and Cold are more active, the Dry and Moist less so, he might perhaps have even Hippocrates on his side; but if he were to say that this happens in all cases, he would, I imagine, lack support, not merely from Hippocrates, but even from Aristotle himself- if, at least, Aristotle chose to remember what he himself taught us in his work "On Genesis and Destruction," not as a matter of simple statement, but with an accompanying demonstration. I have, however, also investigated these questions, in so far as they are of value to a physician, in my work "On Temperaments."” Brock, Galen on the Natural Faculties.

106 Galen De Nat. Fac. I.6. Brock, Galen on the Natural Faculties.

107 Galen De Nat. Fac. I.6: “Now Nature constructs bone, cartilage, nerve, membrane, ligament, vein, and so forth, at the first stage of the animal's genesis, employing at this task a faculty which is, in general terms, generative and alterative, and, in more detail, warming, chilling, drying, or moistening; or such as spring from the blending of these, for example, the bone-producing, nerve-producing, and cartilage- producing faculties (since for the sake of clearness these names must be used as well).” Brock, Galen on the Natural Faculties.

143 these terms were used in relation to digestion, they also were used to talk about sexual difference.

In his discussions of digestion, Athenagoras argues that the

“transformations” or “changes” that occur in the processes of nutrition have no place in the resurrected body. The resurrected body is distinct from the mortal body because it no longer needs anything to nourish or sustain it, and therefore the processes of nutrition are done away with.

τῶν μὲν ἀνισταμένων σωμάτων ἐκ τῶν οἰκείων μερῶν πάλιν συνισταμένων, οὐδενὸς δὲ τῶν εἰρημένων μέρους ὄντος οὐδὲ τὴν ὡς μέρους ἐπέχοντος σχέσιν ἢ τάξιν, οὐ μὴν οὐδὲ παραμένοντος πάντοτε τοῖς τρεφομένοις τοῦ σώματος μέρεσιν ἢ συνανισταμένου τοῖς ἀνισταμένοις, οὐδὲν συντελοῦντος ἔτι πρὸς τὸ ζῆν οὐχ αἵματος οὐ φλέγματος οὐ χολῆς οὐ πνεύματος. οὐδὲ γὰρ ὧν ἐδεήθη ποτὲ τὰ τρεφόμενα σώματα, δεηθήσεται καὶ τότε, συνανῃρημένης τῇ τῶν τρεφομένων ἐνδείᾳ καὶ φθορᾷ τῆς ἐξ ὧν ἐτρέφετο χρείας.

Resurrected bodies are put back together again from their own parts (μερῶν). None of the things said [moist, dry, hot, cold] are parts, nor do they have the quality or function of parts, nor do they remain forever the nourished parts of the body, nor are resurrected with the raised body, since it contributes nothing to life neither as blood, phlegm, bile, or spirit (πνεύματος). For then the nourished bodies will not need these things as they once needed, when the need of nourishment from these things through want and damage is destroyed.108

Here, Athenagoras argues that resurrected bodies only have their proper “parts”

(μερῶν). They no longer need the changes that occur in nutrition and that transform things into wet, most, hot, and cold. Inasmuch as these are changes, they have no place in the resurrected body. Further, because nutrients are transformed

108 Athen, DR 7.1

144 into the humors (blood, phlegm, bile, and spirit),109 the resurrected body no longer has need of these either. The set of binary properties of hot/cold and moist/dry as they relate to the body are not part of the resurrected body, Athenagoras reasons,

“since it contributes nothing to life neither as blood, phlegm, bile, or spirit.”

These humoral properties, however, are not restricted to the production of the humors alone, but are the very properties that mark the differences between males and females. Males are more hot and dry, while females are more cold and moist. The male qualities were more valued and seen as superior. Relative heat and relative dryness contributed to the concoction of reproductive seed. Aristotle argued that male bodies were able to “cook” their blood into life-giving semen, while women were too cool to cook this extra blood and had to discharge it as menses.110

Galen slightly disagreed with this formulation, believing that females too contributed seed, but accepted the basic premises the male seed was superior because it was more cooked than female seed.111 For Galen, as well as the

Hippocratic tradition, menstruation was the means of regulating the excess wetness of the spongy female body.112 Remedies such as a drying diet or exercise could be prescribed to reduce phlegmatic menses.113

109 This list is slightly different from Hippocratic tradition, and Galen, where the humors are blood, phlegm, yellow bile, and black bile. E.g., Galen, De Nat. Hom. I.18.

110 Aristotle. GA, 4.1 765b; 1.19, 726b.

111 Galen, De Usu Partium, 14.6

112 King, Hippocrates' Woman, 33.

113 King, Hippocrates' Woman, 36-37.

145 Not only are heat and dryness at work in the production of humors, but for the very existence of morphological sexual difference itself. Both Galen and

Aristotle make the case that males are more fully dry and “cooked” so their genitals are outside, while women are not fully cooked and must keep their genitals on the inside to preserve what little vital heat they have.114 Men and women share the same “parts,” only they are manifest as inversions of one another. In this formulation, if one turned the penis outside in, and the vagina/uterus inside out, they would be identical.115 Laqueur has made the case that in this one-sex model women “are inverted, and hence less perfect men. They have exactly the same organs in exactly the wrong places.”116 The female sex is then a colder, wetter version of the male; or alternatively, the male is a hotter, dryer, version of the female.

Fat was seen as separate from the flesh, something that was similar in kind to other bodily humors, including blood. Aristotle noted that “fat also, like semen, is a residue, and is in fact concocted blood.”117 Fat, like the humors, could be regulated for the purposes of health, particularly reproductive health. The production of fat was related to the production of semen. Lean men and women have more spermatika, semen and menstrual blood, respectively. Soranus noted that masculinized, “active” women “in whom nothing is left over for menstruation,” such

114 Laqueur, Making Sex, 4-5.

115 Galen, De Usu Partium 14.6

116 Laqueur, Making Sex, 26.

117 Quoted in Laqueur, Making Sex, 38. Aristotle. GA 1.19.727a11-15; HA 7.10.587b32-588a2. Cf. HA 3.20.521b7; GA 4.4.771a4ff.

146 as dancers and singers, could return to menstruation when they “feminized” their lifestyle.118 Alternatively, too much fat in obese women was an obstacle to menstruation and pregnancy. Aristotle suggested that obese women used up all excess fluids in their body and therefore could not release them.119 Some physicians maintained that both women who are too thin and those that are too fat are unable to conceive. Soranus notes that this isn’t universally true, but suggests “as a general rule one must look for a woman whose whole body as well as her uterus is in a normal state.”120 In Athenagoras’ imagination of the resurrected body without fat, such bodies would trouble sexual difference because men wouldn’t produce sperm and women wouldn’t menstruate.

These fluctuations in the flesh work for Athenagoras to set up two different kinds of flesh. One kind of flesh fluctuates, and the second kind is somehow more essential to the human body, a durable flesh that forms the basis of continuity between the mortal and resurrected bodies. The flesh is subject to such great

“transformation” (μεταβολὴν), sometimes becoming fat (πιμελῇ), other times become withered away.121 Such a conception is enmeshed in the classical philosophical problem of being and becoming, and Athenagoras attempts to resolve this by arguing that at least some of the flesh is so intimately connected with the

118 Soranus. Gyn. 3.7-9.

119 Aristotle. GA 746b27-29

120 Soranus, Gyn, 1.35. Translation from Temkin, Soranus' Gynecology, 33.

121 Athen DR. 7.2

147 human subject so as to be inseparable from it. He distinguishes the fluctuations of

“fat” from flesh that is “joined” to the human being.

μόνην δὲ παραμένειν τοῖς μέρεσιν ἃ συνδεῖν ἢ στέγειν ἢ θάλπειν πέφυκεν, τὴν ὑπὸ τῆς φύσεως ἐξειλεγμένην καὶ τούτοις προσπεφυκυῖαν οἷς τὴν κατὰ φύσιν συνεξέπλησεν ζωὴν καὶ τοὺς ἐν τῇ ζωῇ πόνους.

Only that [flesh] remains that is naturally disposed (πέφυκεν) to bind (συνδεῖν), or to closely cover (στέγειν), or to provide warmth (θάλπειν) to the parts, which [flesh] has been selected by nature (ὑπὸ τῆς φύσεως) and joined to those [parts] that contribute to life and the labors in life according to nature (κατὰ φύσιν).122

The verbs used here to describe the flesh that rises in the resurrection connote a certain degree of closeness. The final verb in the series, θάλπειν, often describes the relationship between lovers or spouses, as well as the care a mother has for her children.123 This flesh is closely bound with the parts of the body. As the verb

στέγειν signifies, it keeps things in and keeps things out. Here, the sense of a flesh is that more “natural” to the parts is contrasted with an unnatural flesh, such as fatness. This more natural flesh is selected “by nature” and contributes to life

“according to nature.” The flesh imagined here does not fluctuate, as contrasted with other fluctuating flesh. This two-tiered notion of flesh admits that some flesh fluctuates, but posits another kind of flesh that is more essential to the self.124

122 Athen, DR 7.3

123 Josephus, Ant. 7, 343; 1 Thess 2:7; Eph 5:29

124 The teasing out of different kinds of flesh functioned in a variety of ways. The Gospel of Philip in the Nag Hammadi corpus, for instance, suggests a difference between the resurrected flesh of Christ and the flesh humans possess now: [The master] was conceived from what [is imperishable], through God. The [master rose] from the dead, but [he did not come into being as he] was. Rather, his [body] was [completely] perfect. [It was] of flesh, and this [flesh] was true flesh. [Our flesh] is not true flesh, but only an image of the true.” NHC II, 3, 68, 29-37. Translation from Meyer and Funk, eds., The Nag Hammadi Scriptures. This passage serves both a Christological function for explaining the nature of Christ’s resurrected body as the “true flesh,” as well as explaining the nature of the resurrected flesh in general. Athenagoras is engaged in making a similar appeal to “true flesh” that is distinct from the

148 Notably, Athenagoras’ distinction between two kinds of flesh is one of the few times he uses the term “flesh,” never using the formula “resurrection of the flesh.” While it is clear that Athenagoras believes that some flesh is resurrected, though not the humors and fat, he is still somewhat circumspect. Instead of the

“resurrection of the flesh,” the text prefers to speak of the “resurrection of humans”125 and the “resurrection of dissolved bodies.”126 In this latter formula, death and the resurrection are imagined in terms of binding and loosing.

Nevertheless, there is a strong emphasis that it is the “same body” which is reunited to the “same soul.”127 It is the “parts” and “elements” which are crucial to be preserved.

Laqueur rightly troubles the notion that what we think of as “sex” has always been understood in the same way. He notes, “in the world of one sex, it was precisely when talk seemed most directly about the biology of two sexes that it was embedded in the politics of gender, in culture.”128 From this perspective,

Athenagoras’ vision of the sexually marked body that is without heat, dryness, or fat requires a closer look. The hierarchies embedded in these discourses about sexual difference are definitionally absent from the resurrected body. On what basis, then,

fluctuating flesh that we know in mortality.

125 Athen, DR 10.2. τῆς τῶν ἀνθρώπων ἀναστάσεως

126 Athen, DR 11.1; 25.3 τῶν διαλυθέντων σωµάτων ἀνάστασις.

127 Athen, DR 25.3

128 Laqueur, Making Sex, 8.

149 does Athenagoras insist on sexual difference at all, what marks it, and why is it important to him?

Conclusion

For Athenagoras, the resurrected body is more than a model to be imitated, but rather a reminder that the body that will be punished and rewarded. By exploiting the traditional assumptions about the body as the source of the passions and the soul as the seat of reason, Athenagoras insists that a judgment without the body is unjust to the soul. Invoking themes of will and responsibility, he argues that the whole person—body and soul—must be judged. Otherwise, he insists that the body might sin without judgment, and the soul be treated unjustly, rewarded or punished for the deeds committed by and in the body. The resurrection offers a unified subject as a solution to this dilemma.

Further, Athenagoras sees correct anthropology as a prerequisite to practice in order to assert that the body has eternal worth. He argues that if the goal of philosophy is an ethical life, the anthropological division between body and soul held by his philosophical contemporaries ultimately undermines that goal. The soul, he contends, cannot be the source or seat of the passions because it has no needs or desires. These desires emerge from the body. If bodily existence is required to live virtuously, bodily existence must also be required to live virtuously in eternity. In this way, he offers a critique of the second-century ethical thinking that emphasized the cultivation of the self in the absence of punishment and judgment. Such an ethical framework, Athenagoras argues, fails to produce ethical subjects. His concern with virtue, including avoiding adultery, is staked on a juridical ethics

150 wherein the resurrection holds both the body and soul together in judgment for their actions.

In laying the foundation for understanding the resurrection of body and soul,

Athenagoras argues that the sexually differentiated parts of each human being make up that person. This argument wards off the problem of chain consumption, but also suggests how important each material body is in God’s providence. Athenagoras offers a particular kind of resurrection, one in which the specific, sexually differentiated parts of each body will be reunited to its soul, a soul which by itself is neither masculine nor feminine. In this very insistence that the “parts” of each body will be raised, as distinct from the properties such as hotness and dryness of those bodies, Athenagoras decouples these properties as merely accidental, secondary characteristics from the parts themselves. As such, the hierarchies that are embedded in the discourse of sexual difference in the one-sex body are also accidental, secondary characteristics, useful for distinguishing mortal bodies, but inapplicable to resurrected bodies. Athenagoras reconfigures this discourse by offering a new model of sexual difference based on morphology, or parts, alone, while undercutting the discourses of saying that some parts are better than others.

As Athenagoras attempts to provide his own account of the body, distinguishing between qualities and parts, he is engaged in a theory of sexual difference. In using Galen’s notions of nutrition in mortal bodies with reference to the qualities of heat and dryness, Athenagoras distinguishes resurrected bodies from mortal bodies on precisely the same terms. Though he naturalizes these properties with respect to mortal bodies, he suggests that what makes resurrected

151 bodies different is that they don’t have relative heat and dryness. Given that Galen employed these same concepts in thinking about sexual difference, Athenagoras’ departure from these concepts in his description of the resurrected body has important implications for sexual difference as well. In addition to undercutting sexual difference by eliminating sexuality in the resurrection, Athenagoras’ elimination of the humors undercuts yet another way of marking the differences between males and females.

152 5: “As a Bridegroom with a Bride:” Irenaeus, Adversus Haereses

Introduction

The fifth book of “The Refutation and Overthrow of the Knowledge (Gnosis)

Falsely So Called,”1 more commonly known as Adversus Haereses (AH), Irenaeus focuses on an exposition and defense of the salvation of the flesh, specifically with regard to the resurrection of the flesh.2 It is likely that Irenaeus wrote AH in Lyons sometime before 189.3 He depicts his opponents as having a negative evaluation of the flesh, and therefore, all creation.4 Irenaeus weaves together the incarnation of

1 The fifth book, divided into three sections, treats the resurrection of the flesh (AH V.1-14), how Christ demonstrates the salvation of the flesh (AH V.15-24), and the flesh in the future Kingdom of God (AH V.25-36). Adelin Rousseau et al., eds., Irenaeus: Adversus Haereses V, 2 vols., vol. 2, Sources Chrétiennes (Paris: Les Éditions du Cerf,1969).All translations of AH here are my own. The critical edition from the Sources Chrétiennes (SC) is used for the Latin, Greek fragments, and Greek reconstruction. The French translation and various English translations were consulted, including the Ante-Nicene Fathers (ANF) edition: Roberts et al., Ante-Nicene Fathers : The Writings of the Fathers Down to A.D. 325. For Irenaeus’ other text, the Demonstration of the Apostolic Preaching (hereafter Epid.), the SC critical edition is used for the Latin and Greek reconstructions, and translation of the Armenian. Adelin Rousseau, ed. Irenaeus: Démonstration De La Prédication Apostolique, Sources Chrétiennes, No 406 (Paris: Editions du Cerf,1995).The primary English translation consulted is John Behr, ed. Irenaeus: On the Apostolic Preaching (Crestwood, N.Y.: St. Vladimir's Seminary Press,1997)..

2 AH II.29-31 also treats the issue of the resurrection of the flesh briefly. This chapter will draw on these texts as relevant.

3 The oldest fragment of the text is found already in Oxyrynchus before the end of the second century. Oxyrynchus Papyri. 3.405

4 Irenaeus’s opponents rarely receive a sympathetic reading, despite the fact that they held the overwhelmingly majority view in antiquity with regard to the body. Indeed, they are often demonized, but rarely as forcefully as by Hans Urs von Balthasar: “like a vampire, the [Gnostic] parasite took hold of the youthful bloom and vigour of Christianity. What made it more insidious was the fact that the Gnostics very often did not want to leave the Church.” Hans Urs von Balthasar, The Scandal of the Incarnation: Irenaeus against the Heresies (San Francisco: Ignatius Press, 1990), 1. For a more sympathetic treatment that reveals the shared assumptions about the body between Irenaeus and one important “Gnostic” text, see Karen L. King, "Social and Theological Effects of Heresiological Discourse," in Heresy and Identity in Late Antiquity, ed. Eduard Iricinschi and Holger M. Zellentin (Mohr Siebeck, 2008).

153 Christ with an exegetical treatment of Genesis and Paul to demonstrate how the flesh (and specifically what kind of flesh) can be saved.5 He relates the creation,

Christ’s incarnation and Mary’s virginity, and the final resurrection into one economy of salvation, each interrelated by means of his distinctive doctrine of recapitulation (recapitulatio / ἀνακεφαλαίωσις).6 This wide-ranging work outlines a theory of the flesh that includes discussions of sexuality and sexual difference. In his discussion of Adam, Eve, Mary, and Christ, their sexual status becomes extremely relevant to the recapitulative economy, which points toward how the resurrected body will also not reproduce nor have sexual desire.

Yet in spite of these virginal models, Irenaeus, like Athenagoras, approves of sexuality and reproduction in this life. On one hand, Irenaeus praises virginity in the paradigmatic figures of Adam, Eve, Mary and Christ, and he imagines the resurrection as a time free from sexual desires, sexual acts, and reproduction. On the other hand, he upholds the commandment to “multiply and replenish.” For

Irenaeus, at both ends of the temporal spectrum, virginity is the state in which human beings live.7 On what basis then does Irenaeus justify sexual desire,

5 For detailed monographs on Irenaeus’ treatment of Gen 1-11 and the Pauline corpus, see M. C. Steenberg, Irenaeus on Creation: The Cosmic Christ and the Saga of Redemption, Supplements to Vigiliae Christianae, V. 91 (Leiden ; Boston: Brill, 2008). Rolf Noormann, Irenäus Als Paulusinterpret : Zur Rezeption Und Wirkung Der Paulinischen Und Deuteropaulinischen Briefe Im Werk Des Irenäus Von Lyon, Wissenschaftliche Untersuchungen Zum Neuen Testament. 2. Reihe ; 66 (Tübingen: J.C.B. Mohr (Paul Siebeck), 1994).

6 This idea is incredibly varied: “At least eleven ideas—unification, repetition, redemption, perfection, inauguration and consummation, totality, the triumph of Christus Victor, ontology, epistemology, and ethics (on being, truth, and goodness)—are combined in different permutations.” Eric Francis Osborn, Irenaeus of Lyons (Cambridge, U.K. ; New York: Cambridge University Press, 2001), 97-98.

7 Gustaf Wingren, Man and the Incarnation: A Study in the Biblical Theology of Irenaeus (Philadelphia: Muhlenberg Press, 1959), 194.

154 practices, and reproduction, rather than advocate virginity as a return to primal purity? This chapter suggests that Irenaeus’ narrative of growth marks a key difference between the end and the beginning. It is here in this period of growth that he locates sexual desires, acts, and reproduction, suggesting that eschatological purity is not the same as protological purity.

With respect to sexual difference, I will argue that Irenaeus sees Adam and

Eve in the garden as male and female, despite of their lack of sexual desires and reproduction. Like the other authors discussed in this dissertation, Irenaeus sees the continuity between the mortal and resurrected bodies as located in the “parts,” such that “in these parts we served sin and bore the fruit of death, with these same parts he wants us to serve righteousness, in order that we bear the fruit of life.”8

Sexual difference is a feature of the created order, while sexuality is not. Indeed, we will see that Irenaeus’ understanding of the fundamental differences between male and female extends to the need for a separate kind of salvation for females, wherein the sexual specificity of the Mary is necessary to fully resolve the sins of Eve. We shall also see that this insistence upon sexual difference also remains problematic for Irenaeus, as with the other authors surveyed thus far, but with a significant difference. While for Ps. Justin, the EpRheg, and Athenagoras, the absence of sexual desires and reproduction in the resurrection troubles the foundation of sexual difference, for Irenaeus it is not the lack of sexual desires and acts, but rather the

8 Iren. AH V.14.4 (SC 153:192-94). Quibus igitur mebris serviebamus peccato et fructificabamus morti, iisdem ipsis membris servire nos vult justitiae, ut fructificemus vitae.

155 reintroduction of sexual language as it applies to male and female resurrected bodies blurs differences between male and female.

The Place of Sex and Reproduction in the Divine Economy

For Irenaeus, the question of the sexual nature of the flesh itself, as well as the place of sexuality in the salvation drama, is best answered exegetically in scripture. In Irenaeus’ recapitulative system, the flesh of Adam, Christ, Eve, and

Mary as well as the resurrected flesh are mutually linked. Despite the high valuation of the virginity of these characters, interpreters have generally seen Irenaeus as holding a positive view of sexuality, rejecting the “ascetic” doctrines of his “Gnostic” opponents. Gustaf Wingren offers the conventional wisdom, arguing that, “there is absolutely no trace of any such ascetic ethic in Irenaeus, and wherever he detects such ascetic tendencies he opposes them.”9 John Behr argues that: “Irenaeus does not exalt a state of primal innocence, or exhort his readers to recapture it through an evasive virginity.”10 Instead, Behr suggests, Irenaeus views sexual practice in the context of marriage as a crucial aspect in human development toward the divine.

“Not only is bipolarity as male and female [hu]man’s created state,” he explains, “but interaction between the two, in holiness, is clearly envisaged as a dimension of their life, growth, and maturation.”11 Here, Behr suggests that both sexuality and sexual difference are aspects of human life that are intended by God. I will argue that

9 Wingren, Man and the Incarnation, 211.

10 John Behr, Asceticism and Anthropology in Irenaeus and Clement, Oxford Early Christian Studies (Oxford ; New York: Oxford University Press, 2000), 125.

11 Behr, Asceticism and Anthropology, 112.

156 Irenaeus does consider sexuality to be a key component of human growth and development, but that this does not mean that Irenaeus holds a positive view of sexuality.

The key moments in the divine economy that treat the concepts of sexuality and sexual difference include creation, the salvation offered by Christ (and Mary), and the resurrection. Mortality for human beings punctuates these privileged moments, a period that Irenaeus sees as the exception to the beginning and end, including the exception by God to allow for sexuality. Sexuality is seen by Irenaeus as the paradigmatically mortal thing to do, distinguishing mortality from immortality most clearly.

Adam, Eve, and Innocence

In light of Irenaeus’ acceptance of sexuality in mortality, can sexual desires, acts, and reproduction have been divinely authorized in the garden? The virginal state of Adam and Eve in the garden is repeatedly emphasized and valued, though some scholars have held that sexuality was at least theoretically permissible. Could the virginity of Adam and Eve in the garden have been somehow accidental to the intentions of God? Behr suggests that even though Adam and Eve were virgins until after they left the garden, “the intention of procreation is the same both in Paradise before the apostasy and after the apostasy in the human life of mortality.”12 He makes this argument on the basis of Irenaeus’ view that there are a fixed number of souls who need to be born, after which time the resurrection will occur.

12 Behr, Asceticism and Anthropology, 113.

157 Ed ideo adimpleto numero quem ipse apud se ante definiit, omnes quicumque sunt scripti in uitam resurgent, sua corpora et suas habentes animas et suos Spiritus in quibus placuerunt Deo; qui autem poena sunt digni abibunt in eam, et ipsi suas habentes animas et sua corpora in quibus abstiterunt a Dei bonitate. Et cessabunt utrique iam generare et generari et ducere uxorem et nubere, uti commensurate multitudo ante praefiniti a Deo generis humani perfectorum compago siue aptatio conseruet Patris.

And therefore, when the number [fixed upon] is completed which He had predetermined, all those who have been enrolled for life [eternal] shall rise again, having their own bodies, and having also their own souls, and their own spirits, in which they had pleased God. Those, on the other hand, who are worthy of punishment, shall go away into it, they too having their own souls and their own bodies, in which they stood apart from the grace of God. Both classes shall then cease from any longer begetting and being begotten, from marrying and being given in marriage; so that the number of mankind, corresponding to the fore-ordination of God, being completed, may fully realize the scheme formed by the Father.13

Because this text suggests that there are a finite number of souls who must be born,

Behr infers that God approved of procreation in the garden. This reading presumes that God intended procreation in the garden in spite of God’s foreknowledge of the apostasy.

Irenaeus explains that God foreknew the apostasy and included it as part of his plan, “that humanity, receiving an unhoped-for salvation from God, might rise from the dead, and glorify God.”14 Further, the apostasy served a pedagogical function from the beginning for Adam, “that he may know himself, how mortal and weak he is; while he also understands respecting God, that He is immortal and powerful to such a degree as to grant immortality upon what is mortal.”15 There is

13 Iren. AH II.33.5 (SC 294:352-54)

14 Iren. AH III.20.1 (SC 211:386). Ut insperabilem homo a Deo percipiens salutem resurgat a mortuis et clarificet Deum

15 Iren. AH III.20.2 (SC 211:388). Cognoscat autem semetipsum quoniam mortalis et infirmus est, intellegat autem et Deum quoniam in tantum immortalis et potens est uti et mortali immortalitatem et temporalei

158 no reason to assume that God intended procreation in a prelapsarian16 context if he knew all along that mortality was inevitable for humanity, and Irenaeus certainly does not make this claim.

When Irenaeus speaks of Adam and Eve in the garden, he in no way accepts reproduction as a part of that sphere. Some early Christians held that Adam and Eve were too young physically while in the garden, and that this is the only reason for their failure to procreate.17 The question of whether Irenaeus understood Adam and Eve as children in a physical sense, metaphorical, or mental sense has been debated.18 In the garden, both Adam and Eve are described as infantile, yet their innocence is imagined in primarily sexual terms in that they both existed without sexual desire.

«Et erant» Adam et Eva – hoc est enim nomen mulieris – «nudi, et non erubescebant»: innocens enim et infantilis sensus erat in eis, et nihil in- mentem-inducere-et-cogitare (ἐννοέω) erat eis eorum quaecumque prave per concupiscentias et turpibus desideriis in anima nascuntur. Erant enim tunc integram servantes suam naturam, quoniam (id quod) insufflatum (fuerat) in plasmate spiraculum erat vitae. Igitur, stans-permanens spiraculum in ordine et virtute, non-cogitans- et-non-in-mentem-inducens (ἀνεννόητος) est peiorum. Propter hoc ergo non erubescebant osculantes, ad invicem complexi sancte puerorum more.

aeternitatem donet.

16 There is some debate about the appropriateness of the language of “Fall” and pre- and post-lapsarianism in describing Irenaeus. Wingren, Man and the Incarnation, 28-29. Steernberg agrees that inasmuch as this language assumes a change in “nature” of humanity, it is inappropriate. He explains that humanity lost “that which it did not in actuality possess. This loss of potential, rather than actualised realities, is one of the most important nuances of Irenaeus’ treatment of sin and human nature.” Steenberg, Irenaeus on Creation, 168.

17 Theophilus of Antioch explains, “Adam, being yet an infant in age, was on this account as yet unable to receive knowledge worthily.” (Ad Autolycum 2.25).

18 M. C. Steenberg, "Children in Paradise: Adam and Eve As "Infants" In Irenaeus of Lyons," Journal of Early Christian Studies 12, no. 1 (2004).

159 And Adam and Eve—for this is the name of the woman—“were naked, and were not ashamed” [Gen 2:25]. For there was in them an innocent and infantile mind (sensus), and no thought whatsoever was in them of those things that are born perversely in the soul through inordinate desires and lusts (concupiscentias et turpibus desideriis). For they were at that time keeping their nature intact, since that which had been breathed into the plasma was the breath of life. Therefore, while persisting in its order and power, the breath has no thought or imagining of evil things. On account of this therefore, they were not ashamed, kissing and embracing one another in holiness after the manner of children.19

Whether the lack of maturity of Adam and Eve is physical or metaphorical, this passage fails to yield a positive view of sexual desire. Here, Irenaeus describes sexual practices as “evil things,” even between Adam and Eve as husband and wife.

In particular, they lack “inordinate desires and lusts,” which elevates their virginity from simple sexual abstinence to a lack of desire. In fact, so strong was their virginity that they could even kiss and embrace without awakening these sexual desires. Irenaeus explains that Adam and Eve had intercourse only after their fall, for Eve was a virgin up through her transgression.20 Whatever it was that Adam and

Eve were doing in the garden it was without desire and without intercourse.

Not only do Adam and Eve lack sexual desires, but also any knowledge of reproduction. They achieved this virginal status by being childlike, Adam having a

“natural and childlike mind.”21 While occasionally Irenaeus interprets the Edenic commandment to “multiply and increase” metaphorically in terms of personal growth,22 he does take it seriously as a human responsibility.

19 Iren. Epid. 14 (SC 406:102)

20 Iren. Epid. 17 (SC 406:)

21 Iren. AH III.23.5 (SC 211:458) indolem et puerlem…sensum

22 Iren. AH IV.11.1 (SC 100:496-98). He explains Gen 1:22 thus, “in this respect God differs from man,

160 Quemadmodum illa uirum quidem habens Adam, uirgo tamen adhuc exsistens — erant enim utrique nudi in Paradiso et non confundebantur, quoniam paulo ante facti non intellectum habebant filiorum generationis; oportebat enim primo illos adolescere, dehinc sic multiplicari [. . .]

Just as she who indeed had a husband, Adam, but nevertheless was still a virgin—“for they were both naked” in Paradise “and were not ashamed,” because having been created just a little bit before, they did not have an understanding of the generation of children. For it was necessary that they first grow up (adolescere) and then accordingly multiply.23

Despite his praise for virginity, Irenaeus connects the command to “multiply” with the “generation of children.” Yet the understanding that would come in order to fulfill this command to multiply can only come after Adam and Eve reach a certain level of maturity. This text does not imply that reproduction is possible in the garden, but rather the opposite, that the state of immaturity of Adam and Eve made it impossible. Here, it is not just desires, but reproduction itself that is not possible.

This maturity was only reached after they left the garden. In one passage, it is immediately after they eat the fruit that Adam and Eve cover their genitals out of shame, suggesting that mental maturity, not physical maturity, was the reason for their lack of knowledge of sexual things.24 It seems that the knowledge acquired includes knowledge of reproduction.

Finally, Irenaeus’ notion of recapitulation precludes the idea that sexual desires and reproduction were possible in the garden. An approval of procreation in the garden would wrinkle the connection between protological and eschatological

that God indeed makes, but man is made; and truly, He who makes is always the same; but that which is made must receive both beginning, and middle, and addition, and increase.” (Iren. AH IV.11.2 [100:500-502])

23 Iren. AH III.22.4 (SC 211:440)

24 Iren. AH III.22.4 (SC 211:440)

161 virginity, the kind restored in the resurrection. A prelapsarian authorization of sexual desire and reproduction creates a problem for how to account for sexual practice, reproduction, and desire in the resurrection. If the end will be like the beginning, what role would sexual desire and reproduction have in this vision?

Wouldn’t sexual desire and reproduction in the garden destroy the symmetry of

Irenaeus’ schema, by having a lopsided acceptance of reproduction at the beginning but not the end? Rather, the symmetry between the garden and the resurrection includes the absence of sexual desires and reproduction in both. Ultimately,

Irenaeus does not see an authorized sexuality in the garden, but strictly in mortality.

Christ, Adam, and the Resurrection

The parallels between the lack of sexual desires and reproduction in the garden and in the resurrection are a key point for Irenaeus. Yet, just as Adam and

Eve point to that future state of a lack of desire and reproduction, so too do Jesus

Christ and Mary point to this ideal. As a close reader of Paul, Irenaeus picks up on the parallels between Christ and Adam and draws them into his own recapitulative framework.25 Irenaeus’ notion of recapitulation is invoked when conceiving of the resurrected body as a return to the “pristine human nature” that is in the “image and likeness” of God.26 As the body of Adam anticipates the resurrected body, so also the sinless flesh of Christ shows the possibility of a resurrected flesh. Adam was created

25 For more on this theme in the second century, see J. T. Nielsen, Adam and Christ in the Theology of Irenaeus of Lyons. An Examination of the Function of the Adam-Christ Typology in the Adversus Haereses of Irenaeus, against the Background of the Gnosticism of His Time, Van Gorcum's Theologische Bibliotheek, Nr. 40 (Assen,: Van Gorcum, 1968), 68-94.

26 See also Iren. AH V.12.4 (SC 153:156)

162 in this model, but lost it.27 Only Jesus Christ was able to accomplish the goal of the creation in the “image and likeness” of God, making it available once again to humankind.28

The key difference between Adam and Christ for Irenaeus ultimately rests on their relative maturity. He distinguishes Adam from Christ by situating Adam as an unmatured Christ, suggesting that the creation is still ongoing, or at least that it was not culminated until Christ.29 His reading of Genesis 1 and 2 is closely connected with his reading of Paul, especially 1 Cor 15:22, “As in Adam all shall die, so in Christ

27 The recapitulation of the pre-lapsarian Adam in Christ implicitly raises the question of Christ’s sexuality. Is Christ too depicted as a child? Steenberg makes the argument that the use of this motif of childhood to describe Adam is centered around a particular theological theme: “Irenaeus’ references to Adam as ‘child’ are established in connection and contrast to Adam as ‘adult’ (perfectus homo), that is, Adam as perfected in Christ; and this is key to his entire notion of human development.” (Steenberg, "Children in Paradise," 16.) He is depicted as a child because Christ is depicted as a fully-grown human. While it is clear that there is no systematic consistency with respect to Adam’s infancy, (Steenberg, "Children in Paradise," 20.) what Steenberg does not consider is the connection between Mary and Eve’s sexual status (and the corollary of Christ and Adam). If Adam and Eve’s sexual status as virgins is simply the result of their physical age, rather than innocent virginal adults like Mary and Christ, doesn’t the recapitulation lose its force? That is, if the grounds of Adam and Eve’s virginity are physical immaturity, while Mary and Christ’s are righteousness, do these two types of virginity become so different that there is no longer a recapitulative link?

28 Fantino helps to solve the problem wherein sometimes Irenaeus equates image and likeness, and other times distinguishes them. He makes an important distinction between the “image” (εἰκων), “likeness” (ὁμοίωσις) and “similitude” (ὁμοίοτης). He explains: “La similitude (ὁμοίοτης), que est la liberté donée à l’homme per le Père, appartient à la nature meme de l’homme et se trouve inscrite dans son âme. La similitude est ainsi une réalité anthropologique. L’image, qui est celle du Fils incarné, est appelée à devenir de plus en plus conforme au Fils incarné. Par consequent, l’image qui fait partie de la nature humaine doit devenir parfait; l’image désigne ainsi une réalité constitutive de l’homme, et donc anthropologique, mais elle exprime également le lien existant entre creation et salut. L’homme existe, mais il est transformé. Et c’est la ressemblance (ὁµοίωσις) que exprime le principe de cette transformation, c’est-a-dire l’Esprit-Saint: la ressemblance est une notion sotériologique. Jacques Fantino, L'homme, Image De Dieu, Chez Saint Irénée De Lyon, Thèses Cerf, ([Paris]: Cerf, 1986), 178. Cf. Bernard Sesboüé, Tout Récapituler Dans Le Christ: Christologie Et Sotériologie D'irénée De Lyon, Collection "Jésus Et Jésus-Christ" ; No 80 (Paris: Desclée, 2000), 85-89.

29 Anders-Christian Jacobsen, "The Philosophical Argument in the Teaching of Irenaeus on the Resurrection of the Flesh," in Studia Patristica Xxxvi, Critica Et Philologica, Nachleben, First Two Centuries, Tertullian to Arnobius, Egypt before Nicaea, Athanasius and His Opponents (Louvain : Peeters, 2001, 2001).

163 shall all be made alive.” The relationship between Adam and Christ is a key component in Irenaeus’ defense of the flesh.

Non enim effugit aliquando Adam manus Dei, ad quas Pater loquens dicit: Faciamus hominem ad imaginem et similitudinem nostram. Et propter hoc in fine non ex voluntate carnis neque ex voluntate viri sed ex placito Patris manus ejus vivum perfecerunt hominem, uti fiat Adam secundum imaginem et similitudinem Dei.

For never at any time did Adam escape the hands of God,30 to whom the Father speaking said, “Let us make humans in our image and likeness” [Gen 1:26]. For this reason at the end, neither from the will of the flesh nor the will of man [John 1:13], but from the pleasure of the Father, his Hands perfected a living human, in order that Adam might be in the image and likeness of God.31

Despite this original creation, this notion of the “image and likeness” of God was not maintained in Adam, but in Christ. In the garden, Adam possessed the Spirit until he lost it through disobedience, losing the “robe of sanctity which I [Adam] had from the Spirit.”32 The flesh that humans possess now is consequentially less that this perfect flesh, something that has not yet achieved its potential. Further, the creation of this imperfect flesh is set into a process, and was not meant to be fully perfected in Adam. Rather, Adam was simply the “psychic” human, not yet the “spiritual” human who is Christ.33

30 The “hands of God” is a term Irenaeus uses to refer to the Son and Spirit. See Iren. AH IV.20.1 (SC 100:624-28). Osborn, Irenaeus of Lyons, 91-93.

31 Iren. AH V.1.3 (SC 153:26-28)

32 Iren. AH III.23.5 (SC 211:458). Eam quam habui ab Spirito sanctitatis stolam amisi per inobaudientiam. Fantino, L'homme, Image De Dieu, Chez Saint Irénée De Lyon, 161-62, Ysabel de Andia, Homo Vivens: Incorruptibilité Et Divinisation De L'homme Selon Irénée De Lyons (Paris: Etudes augustiniennes, 1986), 96-97.

33 Iren. AH III.22.1 (SC 211:438). Primum animalem hominem = πρῶτον τὸν ψυχικὸν ἄνθρωπον. These terms draw upon Pauline phraseology in 1 Cor 15.

164 Irenaeus constantly guards against the implication that the flesh of Jesus was in any way “fleshly,” because his soteriological foundation requires that Jesus did not sin. This creates a tension wherein the Lord’s flesh was in fact not identical to mortal flesh. Rather, it was more akin to resurrected flesh, the kind of flesh that is pure and free from the desires of the flesh. Irenaeus explains this difference:

Si quis igitur secundum hoc alteram dicit Domini carnem a nostra carne, quoniam illa quidem non peccavit neque inventus est dolus in anima ejus [1 Pet 2:22]., nos autem peccatores, recte dicit. Si autem alteram substantiam carnis Domino affingit, jam non constabit illi reconciliationis sermo.

If therefore someone says that according to this the flesh is the Lord is different from our flesh, since he did not sin, “nor was any deceit found in his” soul [1 Pet 2:22], while we are sinners, he speaks correctly. But if he adds that the flesh of the Lord is another substance, the words [of the Apostle] concerning the reconciliation will not agree with him.34

This concession that the flesh of the Lord is different, not with respect to

“substance,” but with respect to whether it has committed sins, is the Christological anchor for Irenaeus’ view of the resurrection.

The possession of the “image and likeness” is the culmination of creation, even while it is a return to protological purity. One must act in righteousness to recover that which was originally given, but then lost: “if they observe with diligence and receive the word of God just as a graft, they will arrive at the pristine human nature—that which was made according to the ‘image and likeness’ of God.”35 The task then for human beings is to regain this “pristine human nature” which is the

“image and likeness,” but with a difference. This final image and likeness is attained

34 Iren. AH V.14.3 (SC 153:188-90)

35 Iren. AH V.10.1 (SC 153:126). diligentiam percipientes et velut insertionem accipientes verbum Dei, in pristinam veniunt hominis naturam, eam quae secundum imaginem et similitudinem facta est Dei.

165 through development. Of course, this is made possible through Jesus Christ. This progression, which is simultaneously a return, is the completion of creation started by God, “from the beginning even until the end, who forms and adapts us for life, and draws near to his plasma and perfects it according to the image and likeness of

God.”36 As God enacts this perfection, human beings are able to receive what was promised in the creation, but only realized in the maturity of the resurrection.

Christ offers a model of the adult male who is in full possession of these qualities, contrasted with the infantile Adam. In this way, the sexual innocence of Adam is contrasted with the mature purity of Christ.

Eve and Mary

Just as the innocence of Adam is contrasted with the maturity of Christ, so

Eve is constrasted with Mary. This too points to a substantive difference between protological and eschatological virginity. Irenaeus shows that virginity itself is not enough to secure purity; one must also be obedient in other ways as well. Mary and

Eve typify these two types of virginity.37

36 Iren. AH V.16.1 (SC 153:214). Neque alteram manum Dei praeter hanc quae ab initio usque ad finem format nos et coaptat in vitam et adest plasmatic suo et perficit illud secundum imaginem et similitudinem Dei.

37 While Steenberg notes: “[A]s the antitype of Eve, Mary is also in the unique position of being herself recapitulatory, not in the same sense as Christ whose recapitulation is of human nature, but as one whose role in the recapitulative economy is to restore the proper character of human interrelatedness that this nature requires.”M. C. Steenberg, "The Role of Mary as Co-Recapitulator in St Irenaeus of Lyons," Vigiliae Christianae 58, no. 2 (2004): 136. Dunning correctly counters, “But this solution, while logically coherent, cannot exhaust the function of the typology insofar as it pays no attention to the role of Eve’s material specificity. By focusing only on non-gendered sociality and ignoring questions of sexual difference, Steenberg effectively neuters this crucial aspect of Irenaeus’s theological anthropology.” Benjamin Dunning, "Virgin Earth, Virgin Birth: Creation, Sexual Difference, and Recapitulation in Irenaeus of Lyons " Journal of Religion 89, no. 1 (2008).

166 Eua uero inobaudiens: non obaudiuit enim adhuc cum esset uirgo. Quemadmodum illa uirum quidem habens Adam, uirgo tamen adhuc exsistens …inobaudiens facta, et sibi et uniuerso generi humano causa facta est mortis, sic et Maria habens praedestinatum uirum, et tamen Virgo, obaudiens, et sibi et uniuerso generi humano causa facta est salutis.

But Eve was disobedient. For she did not obey while she was still a virgin. Just as she who indeed had a husband, Adam, but nevertheless was still a virgin…having become disobedient, came to be the cause of death both for herself and for the entire human race, so Mary, having a husband already designated but nevertheless a virgin, was obedient, and came to be the cause of salvation both for herself and for the entire human race.38

Eve’s virginity was preserved up through the Fall. Mary and Eve are parallel as virgins, but they diverge with respect to their obedience. While Irenaeus does not explicitly use the language of maturity to describe the relationship between Mary and Eve, as he does with Christ and Adam, the focus on Mary’s obedience and Eve’s disobedience signals a qualitatively different kind of advanced understanding of

God’s commands. Mary then represents a more responsible version of Eve, in the way that Christ is a more mature Adam. Eve’s virginity alone is not enough for righteousness, since it must also be coupled with the obedience offered by Mary.

Eve is originally created as a “helper” (adiutor) to assist Adam’s growth and progress. Irenaeus uses this term three times in Epid. 13, twice on his own and once in a citation of Gen 2:18. When God brought the animals before Adam, he realized that no helper was to be found. This depiction of Eve as “helper” may be contrasted to Irenaeus’s depiction of the Ophite view of Eve in AH 1.30.7, where Eve is figured as a hindrance to Adam’s growth and perfection.39 At the same time, such a detail is

38 Iren. AH III.22.4 (SC 211:440)

39 Steenberg, Irenaeus on Creation, 151.

167 not lost in Irenaeus’ recapitulatory schema. In this way, Steenberg argues that

Mary’s obedient virginity “is largely dependent on the conception of Eve’s role as helpmeet, of woman helping man in the economy of maturation and perfection.” He continues: “When this function is distorted and largely destroyed in the transgression, it shall come to require restoration even as every other aspect of fallen human life requires such restoration.”40 Mary restores the proper role of women as “helpers,” assisting Christ in the salvation of humanity.

Mary’s role in the salvation of humanity is an important element of Irenaeus’ thought. In Irenaeus’ recapitulatory schema, the virgin Eve ties the knot of sin while the Virgin Mary unties it.41 In Mary’s virginity, she obeys and produces life.

et sicut illa seducta est ut obaudiret Deo, sic et haec suasa est obaudire Deo, uti virginis Evae virgo Maria fieret advocata; et quemadmodum adstrictum est morti genus humanum per virginem, solutum est per virginem, aequa lance disposita virginali inobaudientia per virginalem obaudientiam [. . .]

And just as that one [Eve] was seduced (seducta) so that she was disobedient to God, so also this one [Mary] was persuaded to be obedient to God, in order that the virgin Mary might become the advocate (advocata) of the virgin Eve. And just as the human race was bound to death through a virgin, it was set free through a virgin, the disobedience of a virgin having been balanced by an equal scale through virginal obedience.42

40 Steenberg, Irenaeus on Creation, 151.

41 Iren. AH III.22.2 (SC 211:440-444)

42 Iren. AH V.19.1 (SC 152:248-250). Cf. Iren. Epid. 33 (SC 406:128-30). Et sicut per virginem inobaudientem prostratus est homo et cadens mortuus est, sic et per Virginem, quae obaudivit verbo Dei, denuo accensus homo vita (ἀναζωπυρἐω) recepit vitam . . . oportebat-et-conveniebat enim recapitulari (ἀνακεφαλαιόοµαι) Adam in Christum, «ut absorptum-deglutiretur (καταπίνω) mortale ab immortalitate», et Evam in Mariam, ut Virgo virginis advocata facta solveret-et-evacuaret (ἐκλύω) virginalem inobaudientiam per virginalem obaudientiam.

“And just as through a disobedient virgin, humanity was thrown down and, falling, died, so also, through a virgin who obeyed the word of God, humanity, having been rekindled anew, received life . . . For it was necessary and appropriate that Adam be recapitulated in Christ in order that “mortality might be swallowed up by immortality,” and Eve in Mary in order that a virgin might be made an advocate

168

The notion that Mary has become an “advocate” (advocata) for Eve raises the question of Mary’s soteriological efficacy as possibly parallel to Christ’s. The text goes even further indicating that, “just as the human race was bound to death through a virgin, it was set free through a virgin.” This high evaluation of Mary centers on her virginal obedience, even in her marriage to Joseph. As Orbe notes,

“Without joining herself to her husband, in virtue only of her obedience in the flesh,

Mary deserved to be the mother ‘in vitam’ of the whole human race.”43 Her power is derived not just from her place in the recapitulatory scheme, but also from her obedience as a virgin.

Mortal Fleshiness and Resurrected Flesh

Irenaeus’ treatment of mortality, specifically the status of the flesh, is bound up with issues of sexuality, as he seeks to explain how it is that mortal flesh can take on immortality. In Irenaeus’ account of the differences between mortal and resurrected flesh, he turns to Paul. For Irenaeus, no other text is more important on

(advocata) of a virgin and might absolve and cancel out virginal disobedience through virginal obedience.”

Iren. AH III.22.2 (SC 211:440-444). eam quae est a Maria in Euam recirculationem significans: quia non aliter quod colligatum est solueretur, nisi ipsae compagines adligationis reflectantur retrorsus, uti primae coniunctiones soluantur per secundas, secundae rursus liberent primas . . . Sic autem et Euae inobaudientiae nodus solutionem accepit per obaudientiam Mariae. Quod enim adligauit uirgo Eua per incredulitatem, hoc Virgo Maria soluit per fidem.

“[ . . . ] signifying the circular course which is from Mary to Eve; because what was bound together could not otherwise be undone unless the binding connections themselves were turned backwards, so that the first ties are undone by the second and the second ties liberate the first anew . . . So thus also the knot of Eve’s disobedience received its unloosing through the obedience of Mary. For what the virgin Eve bound through disbelief, this the Virgin Mary undid through faith.”

43 Antonio Orbe, "La Virgen Maria Abrogada De La Virgen Eva; En Torno a S. Ireneo Adv. Haer. V, 19, 1," Gregorianum 63 (1982): 505.

169 this issue than 1 Cor 15:50: “flesh and blood shall not inherit the kingdom of God.”44

Irenaeus cites this passage 12 different times in AH, three times more than any other passage of scripture, devoting chapters 9 to 14 of Book V to its exposition.45 Ps.

Justin and Athenagoras ignore Paul, perhaps because, as Irenaeus notes, “all heretics” use this passage “to point out that the plasma46 of God is not saved.”47 In this rhetorical layout, at least two interpretive traditions clashed over the meaning of Paul with regards to the nature of the human being.48 Irenaeus’ reading of Paul does more than decide the issue of eschatological virginity, but also treats the question of sexual continence in this life. For Irenaeus, the interpretation of Paul here brings his own values around the flesh, a particular kind of flesh, into relief.

Irenaeus will argue that the flesh that inherits (or rather, is inherited by49) the

Kingdom of God is non-fleshly flesh. This interpretive move reveals Irenaeus’ double-mindedness about the flesh.50 As opposed to fleshly flesh, this non-fleshly

44 σὰρξ καὶ αἷµα βασιλείαν θεοῦ κληρονοµῆσαι οὐ δύναται

45 Olson, Irenaeus, the Valentinian Gnostics, and the Kingdom of God (A.H. Book V): The Debate About 1 Corinthians 15:50, 94.

46 The plasma (Lt: plasmatio; Gr: πλάσµα). I prefer this term to the common translations of this term in Irenaeus, including “handiwork” or “earth creature.” Irenaeus’ use of this term to describe the first human may derive from LXX Gen 2:7.

47 Iren. AH V.9.1 (SC 153:106). Id est quod ab omnibus haereticis profertur in amentia sua, ex quo et ostendere conantur non salvari plasmationem Dei. Pap. Iéna 8, 92 σῴζεσ]θαι τὸ πλ[άσµα…] Tertullian concurred that Paul was the “apostle of the heretics.” Tert. Adv. Marc. 3.5. Hæreticorum apostolus

48 Donovan, One Right Reading?: A Guide to Irenaeus, 148-51.

49 Irenaeus makes this distinction in Iren. AH V.9.4.

50 King uncovers this tension: “on the one hand, bodily suffering and death symbol[ize] human sinfulness; on the other hand, bodily changeability is refigured as the possibility of ultimate transformation to a state beyond all change and beyond mortality itself.” King, "Social and Theological Effects of Heresiological Discourse," 41.

170 flesh can be redeemed. By purging all that is fleshly from the flesh, including sexual desire, the resurrected body is able to receive salvation. Irenaeus’ treatment of the flesh as a substance is a further instance of his treatment of sexuality.

Irenaeus builds on Paul by laying out an anthropology that can account for a redeemed flesh, but in doing so, he concedes the problematic nature of fleshiness.

The flesh is competitively situated against the Spirit51 in a battle for the soul. In order for the flesh to receive salvation, it must submit to the Spirit, shedding its desires.

…non conspicientes quia sunt tria ex quibus, quemadmodum ostendimus, perfectus homo constat, carne, anima et spiritu, et altero quidem salvante et figurante, qui est Spiritus, altero quod salvatur et formatur, quod est caro, altero quod inter haec est duo, quod est anima: quae aliquando quidem subsequens Spiritum, elevatur ab eo; aliquando autem consentiens carni, decidit in terrenas concupiscentias.

…they do not understand that the complete person (perfectus homo) is composed out of three things, which I have already shown, flesh, soul, and spirit (carne, anima et spiritu). One of these saves and forms the person, which is the spirit, and another is saved and is formed, which is the flesh, and the other in between these two, which is the soul, which sometimes follows the spirit, it is raised up by it, and sometimes it sympathizes with the flesh, and falls into earthly desires (terrenas concupiscentias / γεώδεις ἐπιθυμίας).52

51 There is a question of whether Irenaeus intends spiritus Dei or spiritus homini when he refers to the spiritus. This interpretive decision has been made in the critical edition through capitalizing Spiritus when the Spirit of God is meant. This distinction is made by Irenaeus in V.6.1 “spiritus homini aut spiritus Dei.” Rousseau’s notes on this explain each choice. Rousseau et al., eds., Irenaeus: Adversus Haereses V, 226-37. Orbe, however, argues that “Ninguno de los capítolos del libro V conoce el «espíritu», riguroso constitutivo—como la carne or el alma—de la naturalezza humana.” Antonio Orbe, Teología De San Ireneo: Comentario Al Libro V Del "Adversus Haereses," Biblioteca De Autores Cristianos. Maior ; 25, 29, 33 (Madrid; Toledo: Biblioteca de autores cristianos; Estudio teológico de San Ildefonso, 1985), I, 274. Cf. Antonio Orbe, Antropología De San Ireneo, Biblioteca de Autores Cristianos: Sección 2, Teología y Canones; 286 (Madrid: Editorial Catolica, 1969), 128-31.

52 Iren. AH V.9.1-2 (SC 153:106-110)

171 The linchpin between the spirit and the flesh is the soul, which chooses to follow one substance or the other.53 When the soul follows the flesh, it falls into “earthly desires.” The flesh by itself is subject to these desires, but with the “spirit” it is able to rise above them. This trichotomous view of the human introduces the spirit as an active salvific principle that can transform the passive flesh.

In Irenaeus’ interpretation of Paul, the “flesh” and the “Spirit” begin to emerge less as substances, and more as manners of life, or qualities. In this way, the flesh is constantly denigrated as a quality, but tolerated as a substance. That is, the qualities of flesh, such as desire, corruption, and weakness, can be separated from the actual substance of the flesh such that flesh need to possess such qualities.

Indeed, the distinction between the “substance” (substantiam) and the “quality”

(qualitatem)54 of the flesh becomes the hermeneutical key for Irenaeus’ reading of

Paul. Such a philosophical distinction can be found in Aristotle, but Irenaeus seems to derive this idea from Stoic discussions.55 In the Stoic view, the Logos is the active principle (τὸ ποιοῦν) that operates on passive material (ὕλη). For Irenaeus, the

Spirit is active and the flesh is passive. This means that flesh is an entirely passive substance that can possess either the qualities of fleshiness or spirit. This substance/quality distinction allows Irenaeus to reconcile all of Paul’s negative

53 For this view of the human, flesh, soul, and Spirit, Irenaeus cites 1 Thess 5:23, that “it is the mingling and union of all of these that effects the perfect human being.” Iren. AH V.6.1 (SC 153:78)

54 Iren. AH V.10.2 (SC 153:126-28)

55 Andia, Homo Vivens: Incorruptibilité et divinisation de l'homme selon Irénée de Lyons, 291-93. He cites Posidonius in Arius Didyme, Frag. Phys. 27 (Diels, Doxographi, p 462; Stobaeus, Ecl. I. p 178, 14) and Plutarch, Arnim, Svf, II, no. 395, 96.

172 evaluations of the flesh with the resurrection of the flesh.56 It is thus that Irenaeus says that “spiritual actions vivify a person,” rather than any particular substance.57

The opponents, however, are mistaken when they say, “this passage [1 Cor 15:50] refers to the flesh proper, and not to fleshly works.”58

In Irenaeus’ reading of Paul, Paul’s multivalent usage of the “flesh” signifies how the resurrection of the flesh functions as an exhortation to righteous works.

This is not simply an exegetical dispute, but a wrangling over the value of the works of the flesh, and the attainment of virtue in the flesh. The flesh can either perform the works of death or the works of life: “In these parts we served sin and bore the fruit of death, with these same parts he wants us to serve righteousness, in order that we bear the fruit of life.”59 Irenaeus’ interpretation of Paul emphasizes “fruit of the works” of the flesh as that which enables it to receive salvation. The resurrection of the flesh disciplines the flesh while it is still mortal, as it is slowly grafted onto the Spirit. This notion of living in the flesh, but not of it, is summarized as doing, “away with the desires of the flesh (concupiscentias carnis), which bring

56 In particular, Irenaeus is working with Romans 8:9-14 as an intertext in AH V.10.2 (SC 153:126-32). Further, Irenaeus quotes Galatians 5:19-22 which enumerates the “works of the flesh” and the “works of the Spirit” in AH V.11.1 (SC 153:132-34)

57 Iren. AH V.11.1 (SC 153:134). spirituales actus intulit vivificantes hominem.

58 Iren. AH V.13.3 (SC 153:170). Si enim proprie de carne hoc dictum dicent, et non de carnalibus operationibus.

59 Iren. AH V.14.4 (SC 153:192-94). Quibus igitur mebris serviebamus peccato et fructificabamus morti, iisdem ipsis membris servire nos vult justitiae, ut fructificemus vitae.

173 death to humans.”60 Sexual life is implicated in this grafting of the Spirit since the

Spirit enters one’s life through “faith and a chaste manner of life.”61

Growth

What then is the place of sexual desire and reproduction in Irenaeus? Not only does he uphold protological and eschatological virginity, but also defines mortal weakness in the sexualized language of shame, lust, and desire, all identified as the “fleshly.” Yet he allows for procreation. The key is not simply a return to the pristine original, but that is a more mature version of it. Yet one still wonders why

God did not create human beings as perfect from the beginning. Why did God allow for Adam and Eve to fall at all? Why must the economy of God include this period of distance? Irenaeus answers this question in two ways. First, he notes that human beings have free will, the ability to choose between right and wrong.62 Second is that with this will, human beings must grow and progress.

This view of the growth of human beings into the image and likeness, rather than attaining it from the beginning, is a key point. The image and likeness of God in the resurrection, a restoration of that “pristine human nature” that Adam was originally granted, is the equivalent to becoming a “spiritual” person in Pauline terminology. In this way, the eschatological and protological are indistinct.

Irenaeus speaks of both as moments of purity of the flesh, free from desire, lust, and earthly pleasure. It is clear that such desires are experienced neither protologically

60 Iren. AH V.10.2 (SC 153:132)

61 Iren. AH V.9.3 (SC 153:114). per fidem et castam conversationem.

62 Iren. AH IV.39.1-4 (SC 100:960-72)

174 nor eschatologically. What lies between them is a period of growth, from childhood to full maturity as one who is like God. Yet this period of growth, the period that human beings now occupy, is enmeshed between these bookends.

Subjectio autem Dei incorruptela, perseveratia [est] incorruptelae [autem] gloria infecti. Per hanc igitur ordinationem et hujusmodi convenientiam et tali ductu factus et plasmatus homo secundum imaginem et similitudinem constituitur infecti Dei, Patri quidem bene sentiente et jubente, Filio vero ministrante et formante, Spiritu vero nutriente et augente, homine vero paulatim proficiente et perveniente ad perfectum, hoc est proximum infecto fieri.

Being in subjection to God is preservation in immortality, which is the glory of the Unmade One. By this arrangement, therefore, and these harmonies, and such sequence, a created and organized human is constituted according to the image and likeness of the uncreated God—the Father judging and ordering well, the Son truly ministering and forming, and the Spirit truly nourishing and increasing, and humans truly making progress gradually, and moving towards the perfect, that is, approximating to the Unmade One.63

This growth towards what is perfect is all part of God’s economy.

This fundamental point explains the goal of the human being in the divine economy as growth.64 In Julie Canlis’s terms, “anthropology is theology viewed from another angle.”65 The reason is that to become fully human is also a “promotion into

God.”66 Humanity is still being made. The “portion of the Spirit” that one receives now helps humans be “little by little accustomed to receive and bear God.”67 Indeed,

63 Iren. AH IV.38.3 (SC 100:954-56)

64 Recapitulation and growth do not stand in tension with one another, but mutually constitute one another. Anders-Christian Jacobsen, "The Importance of Genesis 1-3 in the Theology of Irenaeus," Zeitschrift für antikes Christentum = Journal of ancient Christianity. 8 (2004): 303.

65 Julie Canlis, "Being Made Human: The Significance of Creation for Irenaeus' Doctrine of Participation," Scottish Journal of Theology 58, no. 4 (2005): 445.

66 Iren. AH III.19.1; III.20.2; IV.20.7 (SC 100:646-48); and IV.33.4 (SC 100:810-12)

67 Iren. AH V.8.1 (SC 153:92). paulatim assuescentes capere et portare Deum

175 “those who shall be worthy are accustomed gradually to receive God (capere

Deum).”68 This high evaluation of human beings includes becoming “gods.”

Irenaeus explains, “For we blame [God] because we have not been made gods from the beginning, but at first merely humans, then at length gods; although God has done this out of His pure goodness, that no one may impute to Him invidiousness or grudgingness.”69

In its fullest sense, the result of this growth is the deification of human beings, with the caveat that they are still created beings. This idea was not uncommon in second-century Christianity.70 Yet Irenaeus does not use the term theopoiesis, unlike Athanasius. This “deification” is really about becoming fully human: “our Lord Jesus Christ, who did, through his immense love, become what we are, in order that he might bring us to be even what he is himself.”71 Irenaeus’ emphasis that God is the creator and humans are created is a line that he never blurs. Thus, the human/divine distinction always remains, however “like” God humans become. It is the emphasis on the human-divine gap that paradoxically provides the foundation for Irenaeus’ soteriological view of human potential and growth.72 “And in this respect God differs from humans, that God indeed makes, but

68 Iren. AH V.32.1 (SC 153:396). Qui digni fuerint paulatim assuescunt capere Deum.

69 Iren. AH IV.38.4 (SC 100:958). Nos autem imputamus ei quoniam non ab initio dii facti sumus, sed primo quidem homines, tunc demum dii, quamvis Deus secundum simplicatem bonitas suae hoc fecerit, ne quis eum putet invidiosum aut impraestantem.

70 Norman Russell, The Doctrine of Deification in the Greek Patristic Tradition, Oxford Early Christian Studies (Oxford: New York : Oxford University Press, 2004).

71 Iren. AH V.Preface (SC 153:14). Jesum Christum Dominum nostrum, qui propter immensam suam dilectionem factus est quod sumus nos, uti nos perficeret esse quod est ipse.

72 Canlis, "Being Made Human."

176 humans are made; and truly, He who makes is always the same; but that which is made must receive beginning, middle, addition, and increase.”73

The narrative of growth that accounts for sexual desires and reproduction does not mark them as inherently good. Sexuality is situated as a part of mortality, but it is also that which defines mortal flesh as distinct from immortal flesh. We have seen how Ireneaus distinguishes the substance of the flesh from the qualities of fleshiness. He identifies fleshiness principally in terms of lust and desire. Yet there are examples of flesh that are free from such fleshiness: Adam and Eve, Mary and

Christ, and the resurrected flesh. He suggests that there is no substantive difference between the flesh of these bodies and the flesh of our own. In the case of the former, they are simply infused with the spirit to such a degree as to no longer be subject to the corruptions of fleshiness. At the same time as Irenaeus marks this kind of flesh as free from sexuality, he also makes room for reproduction in mortality. Despite his high appraisal of virginity as the beginning and end of human perfection, reproduction is still an essential part of one’s growth. In this way, the virginity of the resurrection is not exactly the same as the virginity of creation, a virginity of innocence. Rather, it is the virginity of age and wisdom, one that has passed through and has been marked by sexuality, and has now been freed from it. This virginity of the resurrection is defined by the sexuality of mortality, and cannot exist without having first been formed by those experiences. How then does this notion of

73 Iren. AH IV.11.2 (SC 100:500). Et hoc Deus ab homine differt, quoniam Deus quidem facit, homo autem fit. Et quidem qui facit semper idem est, quod autem fit et initium et medietatem et adjectionem et augmentum accipere debet.

177 sexuality that comes and goes as a part of human existence impact Irenaeus’ notion of sexual difference?

The Place of Sexual Difference in the Divine Economy

Like Ps. Justin, the EpRheg, and Athenagoras, Irenaeus too considers that sexual difference forms an essential aspect of one’s identity and will perdure in the resurrection. We have seen that the creation of Adam and Eve functions as a key episode in Irenaeus’ understanding of the world, and that sexual difference is part of that order, necessary for the creation of humanity. Christ and Mary also function as a sexually differentiated pair, not for the purpose of creation, but rather for the salvation of humanity. We have seen that for Ps. Justin and Athenagoras, at least, this insistence upon sexual difference is complicated by their understandings of the place of sexuality in the resurrection. Without desires and reproduction, the differences between these bodies become blurred. While the same kind of blurring may occur in Irenaeus, who insists upon virginity as the defining feature of the protological and eschatological body, we shall see that he reintroduces sexuality in the eschatological sphere in important ways. Paradoxically, it is this reintroduction of sexuality that blurs sexual difference for Irenaeus, rather than its elimination.

Sexuality does not function as the guarantor of sexual difference, but rather the site at which it becomes most unclear.

Feminine Bodies

Though I will argue that Irenaeus complicates the language of sexual difference, let us first consider the ways he reproduces sexual differences and male-

178 female hierarchies. Irenaeus’ depiction of the flesh as a substance to be acted upon by the spirit belongs to the traditional gendered discourse of the body in antiquity.

For many, the body was depicted as material and therefore feminine, while the spirit was depicted as male. Philo’s discussion of virtue exhibits this understanding: “For progress [toward virtue] is indeed nothing else than the giving up of the female gender 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.”74 In this common view, the material was associated with the feminine.75 Irenaeus invokes a feminized view of the flesh, not only as that which is most typically feminine, but also in the way that the flesh must submit to the mind in the proper hierarchy.

Irenaeus’ “elevation” of the flesh reproduces the discourses of sexual difference that thought of the spiritual as more masculine and the material as more feminine. Citing the ancient theories of reproduction in which males provided the high concentration of pneuma to the otherwise formless matter of women, Denis

Minns concludes that “Irenaeus’ insistence on bodiliness as the essential characteristic of the human being led him to exalt the humanity of Mary.”76 Yet, in spite of this exaltation of Mary, Irenaeus does little to disrupt the male/female

74 Philo, Questions and Answers on Exodus, 18. Cf. Questions and Answers on Genesis, 2.12, 49; The Worse Attacks the Better, 28; On the Embassy to Gaius, 319. See Richard Arthur Baer, Philo's Use of the Categories Male and Female, Arbeiten Zur Literatur Und Geschichte Des Hellenistischen Judentums. 3 (Leiden,: E. J. Brill, 1970).

75 Elizabeth Spelman, "Woman as Body: Ancient and Contemporary Views," Feminist Studies 8, no. 1 (1982).

76 Denis Minns, Irenaeus (Washington, D.C.: Georgetown University Press, 1994), 89.

179 hierarchy in his “insistence on bodiliness.” While Minns is technically correct that

“there is no sense in Irenaeus…that maleness was a theologically significant feature of the first human being,”77 this is not the same thing as saying that maleness was not theologically significant. Rather, Irenaeus deploys the framework of masculinity and femininity to describe the relationship between the Spirit and the flesh, activity and passivity, and the human being’s relationship to God.

Irenaeus’ discussion of Mary in particular highlights the hierarchy between spirit and flesh. In addition to the soteriological role of Mary, he sees Mary’s role as comparable to the dirt used in the creation of Adam. Irenaeus is among the earliest to discuss the role of Mary in Jesus’s constitution, though it is clear that he is already enmeshed in an active debate on this topic.78 He notes that some of his opponents, for instance, represent Jesus “as having passed through Mary just as water through a tube; but others that he is truly the son of the Demiurge, on whom descended the

Jesus of the economy, and for others Jesus was born from Joseph and Mary, and that

Christ from above descended upon him, being without flesh and impassible.”79

Typically, Irenaeus presents the variety of heretical options that he situates at either extreme, and then finds the middle ground for his own position. Here, he notes that some say that Jesus has no flesh, not receiving anything at all from Mary, while

77 Minns, Irenaeus, 58.

78 Other earlier examples include Justin Martyr. Dial. 100. Cf. also Prot. Jas. 13.1. The Gospel of Philip explains, “Adam came from two virgins, the Spirit and the virgin earth. Christ was born of a virgin to correct the fall that occurred in the beginning.” NHC II, 3, 71, 16-21. Meyer and Funk, eds., The Nag Hammadi Scriptures, 176.

79 Iren. AH III.11.3 (SC 211:146-48) quem per Mariam dicunt pertransisse quasi aquam per tubum; ali uero Demiurgi Filium, in quem descendisse eum Iesum qui ex dispositione sit; alii rursum Iesum quidem ex Ioseph et Maria natum dicunt, et in hunc descendisse Christum qui de superioribus sit, sine carne et impassibilem exsistentem. See also Iren. AH I.7.2.

180 others who argue that Jesus is just a human being and that divinity descended upon him later. Both options, he argues, separate the flesh from divinity by not allowing them to be mutually constitutive. He explains that the flesh from which Christ is formed is pure, virginal flesh.

While Mary’s virginity is often related to Eve’s virginity, it is just as often associated with the virgin soil from which Adam was created. Mary’s “pure womb which regenerates men unto God, and which He Himself made pure”80 recapitulates the earth from which Adam was formed. Irenaeus extends the Pauline parallel between Christ and Adam by inserting an additional connection between them, namely their formation from virginal territory.

ita recapitulans in se Adam ipse Verbum exsistens, ex Maria quae adhunc erat Virgo, recte accipiebat generationem Adae recapitulationis. Si igitur primus Adam habuit patrem hominem et ex semine uiri natus est, merito dicerent et secundum Adam ex Ioseph esse generatum. Si autem ille de terra quidem sumptus est et Verbo Dei plasmatus est, oportebat idipsum Verbum, recapitulationem Adae in semetipsum faciens, eiusdem generationis habere similitudinem. Quare igitur non iterum sumpsit limum Deus, sed ex Maria operatus est plasmationem fieri? Ut non alia plasmatio fieret neque alia esset plasmatio quae saluaretur, sed eadem ipsa recapitularetur, seruata similitudine.

So recapitulating Adam in himself, that One who is the Word rightly received from Mary who was still a virgin, a begetting of recapitulation to Adam. If therefore the first Adam had a man as his father and was born from the semen of a man, then justly it might also be said that the second Adam was begotten from Joseph. But if that one [i.e., the first Adam] was in fact taken from the earth and was formed by the Word of God, then it was necessary that this very Word, making a recapitulation of Adam in himself, have a likeness in his begetting to that one. Why therefore did God not take dirt a second time, but in fact produced a plasma that was made from Mary? In order that another plasma might not come about, and so that there would not

80 Iren. AH IV.33.11 (SC 100:830). puram aperiens vulvam eam quae regenerat homines in Deum, quam ipse puram fecit.

181 be another plasma which would be saved, but that the very same plasma would be recapitulated, the likeness having been preserved.81

Jesus Christ had to be made of the “dust” that Adam was made from in order that he might redeem it. But this is not the end of the parallel. Christ was born from a virgin because Adam was made from the virgin earth.

The purity of the earth out of which Adam was formed constitutes a critical aspect of Irenaeus’ recapitulative system. He emphasizes the virginal status of the earth, which according to Genesis 2:5, remained unpenetrated by plant, rain, or agricultural activity. This pure, virginal soil depicts a feminized virginity that is at the same time potently fertile.

Unde ergo est protoplasti substantia? Ex voluntate et sapientia Dei et ex virgine terra: «non enim pluit Deus», ait Scriptura, antequam homo fieret, «et homo non erat ad operandum terram». Igitur ex hac, dum virgo erat adhuc, «sumpsit Deus limum e terra et plasmavit hominem», initium humanitatis.

From where then was the substance of the first-formed (protoplasti)? Out of the will and wisdom of God and out of virgin earth: “for God did not bring about rain,” says Scripture, before a human had been created, “and there was no human to work the earth” [Gen 2:5]. Therefore out of this earth, while it was still virgin, “God took dirt from the earth and formed a human,” the beginning of humanity.82

81 Iren. AH III.21.10 (SC 211:428-30). See also Iren. Epid. 32 (SC 406:128): “Igitur hominem hunc recapitulans (ἀνακεφαλαιόοµαι) Dominus, eandem ipsi carnationis (σάρκωσις) accepit dispositionem (οἰκονοµία) ex Virgine nascens voluntate et sapientia Dei, ut et ipse (eam quae) ad Adam (erat) similitudinem carnationis (σἀρκωσις) ostenderet et fieret (is qui) scriptus (erat) in initio homo secundum imaginem et similitudinem Dei.”

“Therefore the Lord, recapitulating this man [i.e., Adam], was the recipient of the same arrangement of fleshiness as him, being born from the Virgin by the will and wisdom of God, in order that he himself might manifest a likeness of fleshiness to Adam and might become that man who was written about in the beginning, according to the image and likeness of God.”

82 Iren. Epid. 32 (SC 406:128)

182 This “virgin” earth functions to ward off criticisms of the low quality of the “dirt” as a substance from which humans are made.83 The untilled earth emphasized the particular purity of the dirt. This specific notion of virginity as that which is

“untilled” is exclusive to female bodies, since it relies on a logic of penetration to describe virginity, but also fertility.84

The virginity of Mary assists in the special quality of the flesh of Christ, enabling him to save humanity. Christ’s birth from a virgin is critical to his identity.

Quemadmodum enim per inobaudientiam unius hominis qui primus de terra rudis plasmatus est paccatores facti sunt multi det amiserunt uitam, ita oportuit et per obaudientiam unius hominis qui primus ex Virgine natus est iustificari multos et percipere salutem.

Just as through “the disobedience of one man,” who was originally made of untilled earth, “many were made sinners” and lost life; so it was necessary that through “the obedience of one man,” who was originally born from a virgin, “many are justified” [Rom 5:19] and receive salvation.85

Just as Adam was created part divine and part earth, so Christ was created. Mary, then, occupies the same status and function as the dirt from which Adam was

83 The same point is also made in Iren. AH III.21.10: protoplastus ille Adam de rudi terra et de adhuc uirgine – nondum enim pluerat Deus et homo non erat operatus terram – habuit substantiam et plasmatus est manu Dei, id est Verbo Dei – omnia enim per ipsum facta sunt, et sumpsit Dominus limum a terra et plasmauit hominem [. . .]”

“the first-formed himself, Adam, had his substance from untilled earth that was still virgin—“for God had not yet brought about rain and man had not worked the earth” [Gen 2:5]. And he was formed by the Hand of God, that is, by the Word of God—for “all things were made through him,” and “the Lord took dirt from the earth and formed a human” [Gen 2:7].”

84 Dunning, "Virgin Earth, Virgin Birth."

85 Iren. AH III.18.7 (SC 211:368-70). Fr. Gr. 27 (Theodoretus, Eranistes I, Floril.) Τοῦ αὐτοῦ ἐκ τοῦ αὐτοῦ λόγου. «Ὥσπερ γὰρ διὰ τῆς παρακοῆς τοῦ ἑνὸς ἀνθρὼπου» τοῦ πρῶτως ἐκ τῆς γῆς ἀνεργάστοθ πεπλασµένου «ἁµαρτωλοὶ κατεστάθησαν οἱ πολλοὶ» καὶ ἀπέβαλον τὴν ζωήν, «οὕτως» ἔδει «καὶ δι᾽ὑπακοῆς ἑνος ἀνθρώπου» τοῦ πρώτως ἐκ παρθένου γεγεννηµένου δικαιωθῆναι πολλοὺς καὶ ἀπολαβεῖν τὴν σωτηρίαν.

183 formed.86 In this system, the female, like the earth, is raw and unplanted.

(Pro)Creation occurs when the divine male inserts himself into this virginal territory and provides form to the matter.

Though Irenaeus defends the flesh against what he considers mistreatment, he actually has quite traditional notions about the nature of the flesh that would have been shared by his contemporaries, including the notion that the flesh is a passive, feminine substance. Males were described as active and females as passive in all characteristics, especially in terms of sexuality. These descriptions were also normative evaluations of how males and females were supposed to act. These understandings of active and passive are sexualized descriptions of the flesh, which reintroduces sexuality as a component of the flesh. It is here that the reintroduction of sexuality to describe the flesh that sexual difference is problematized. Though

Irenaeus sees a world where Adam and Eve, Christ and Mary, provide models for sexual difference in the face of a lack of sexuality, it is in the kind of sexuality that he describes these bodies as having in relationship to God that blurs the differences between them.

Feminized Males

The virginal status of the protological and eschatological bodies is deeply connected to questions of sexual difference in Irenaeus, largely because Irenaeus uses the trope of virginity in sexually-differentiated ways. With respect to the resurrected body, modeled on the virginal bodies of Adam and Eve, Benjamin

86 Steenberg, Irenaeus on Creation, 110.

184 Dunning has argued, “in his final vision of redemption, Irenaeus wants to conceive of a fleshly sexual difference without desire and without procreation.” He continues,

Virginity is a crucial concept in this project—that is, virginity understood as the childlike innocence that characterized Adam and Eve equally (irrespective of sexual difference) in the garden. Yet virginity is also a difficulty, insofar as each time that Irenaeus speaks about it with any content or specificity, he slides into associating it with specifically feminine attributes situated around the unpenetrated or procreative female body.87 The tension that Dunning outlines between a virginity that applies equally to men and women, and virginity that applies only to women as unpenetrated and

(paradoxically) procreative, or fecund, creates a problem for thinking about the resurrected body. Dunning suggests,

a virginity conceived in terms specific to the female body (as opposed to one conceived in a way that obtains equally to all bodies) remains haunted by the conceptual possibilities both penetrative and procreative. These are the very possibilities that Irenaeus seeks to banish from the eschatological interrelation of virginity and sexual difference. Given this, the penetrable, procreative feminine emerges as a site of excess in his theology, on the one hand entirely essential to the recapitulative argument but on the other hand left as a remainder, in no way resolved by Christ’s recapitulation of Adam.88

Dunning argues that Irenaeus attempts to resolve this recapitulative “excess” by means of Mary, whose soteriological effect accounts for the specifically feminine aspects of penetrability and procreation. Sexual difference then is emphasized not only as an aspect of creation through Adam and Eve, but of salvation through Christ and Mary as well.

Though Dunning seeks to contrast a kind of virginity that is specifically female (penetrability and a paradoxical fecundity) with one that applies to both men

87 Dunning, "Virgin Earth, Virgin Birth," 82.

88 Dunning, "Virgin Earth, Virgin Birth," 83.

185 and women (childlike innocence), I will suggest that in many ways Irenaeus resists sexually different categories. This excess of femininity that Irenaeus seeks to resolve through Mary’s soterological role spills over to apply to male bodies as well. All human bodies are depicted as penetrated by God, and Christ’s body itself is presented in feminized terms.

At the level of terminology, it must be noted that Irenaeus does not actually call Adam or Christ “virgins.” We should not be surprised that the concept of

“virginity” takes specifically feminine forms as Dunning has noted, since for

Irenaeus the concept itself is definitionally female, reserving this term exclusively for females, whether Eve, Mary, or the earth. Irenaeus does not have a term for male virginity, though he certainly accepts the notion of male sexual abstinence.

Irenaeus’ restriction of the term “virgin” to females may be because there was some debate in antiquity about whether this term could be properly applied to males. The erotic novel The Adventures of Leucippe and Clitophon, which likely dates to the second century, records a line between the two protagonists: “you will learn that I have imitated your virginity, if there is such a thing as virginity in men.”89 It is true that there are a few instances where men are explicitly described as virgins.90

89 Μαθήσῃ τὴν σήν µε παρθενίαν µεµιµηµένον, εἴ τις ἐστι καὶ ἐν ἀνδράσι παρθενία. Quoted in Simon Goldhill, Foucault's Virginity: Ancient Erotic Fiction and the History of Sexuality, The Stanford Memorial Lectures (Cambridge ; New York, NY, USA: Cambridge University Press, 1995), 95.

90 Joseph in JosAsen 8:1; Bauer also cites the Legenden der heiligen Pelagia 27,1 (5th c.?) uses it of Abel. Regarding Rev 14:4, “the virgins who are not defiled with women” (οἳ µετὰ γυναικῶν οὐκ ἐµολύνθησαν παρθένοι), Ford argues on the basis of other masculine uses of παρθένοι to refer to a first marriage, that it “may refer to men who have only been married once.” J. Massingberd Ford, "The Meaning of 'Virgin'," New Testament Studies 12 (1966): 294.. Ford’s classic article shows that “the term ‘virgin’ is not necessarily confined to one who has not experienced coitus, but, on the one hand, may be used of a minor who has married and been widowed, and, on the other, of people who have only taken one spouse during their lifetime.” Ford, "The Meaning of 'Virgin'," 298.

186 Indeed, Ps. Justin uses the term “virgins” to refer explicitly to males.91 Tertullian also speaks of male virgins as a distinct class from female virgins.92 So also Soranus recommends that virginity is healthful for both males and females.93 Nevertheless, there seems to have been some resistance to such a usage, if virginity is conceived of in physiological terms.

In any case, Irenaeus’ avoidance of this term for Adam and Christ is not because he believed they were sexually active. In a sense, Dunning is correct that there is a “concept” of “virginity” in Irenaeus that applies equally to males and females, if not the term.94 Instead of the term “virgin,” Irenaeus refers to the

“nature” (natura) of Adam as being pure. The notion of a pristine nature, which is corrupted after the apostasy, is described in sexualized language. Irenaeus uses this precise language of an “intact nature” to describe both Adam and Eve. Irenaeus explains, “they were at that time keeping their nature (natura) intact…[having] no thought or imagining of evil things.”95 Adam’s “nature” is compromised after the apostasy, explaining that he dons the uncomfortable fig leaf in order to curb “lustful impulse of his flesh, since he had lost his innocent (indolem) and childlike mind

(sensum) and had come to a reflective awareness of evil.”96 When Irenaeus says that

91 Ps. Justin, DR 3.8-10.

92 E.g., Tertullian. De virginibus velandis, 10.1-2.

93 Soranus. Gyn. 1.31.

94 Dunning, "Virgin Earth, Virgin Birth," 68.

95 Iren. Epid. 14 (SC 406:102). Erant enim tunc integram servantes suam naturam / Ἦσαν γὰρ τότε ὁλόκληρον φθλάσσοντες τὴν ἑαυτῶν φύσιν.

96 AH III.23.5 (SC 211:458): “et retundens petulantem carnis impetum, quoniam indolem et puerilem amiserat sensum et in cogitationem peiorum uenerat [. . .]”

187 Adam and Eve were “keeping their nature intact,” he recalls his reference in

Adversus Haeresis to Adam’s “pristine human nature” in the garden. This “pristine human nature” is “that which was made according to the ‘image and likeness’ of

God.”97 Talk of Adam’s “nature” before the apostasy has explicit parallels to Eve’s virginity. For Adam his “pristine nature” is the period in which he was in the image and likeness of God, the time in which he lacks lustful desire.

Though Irenaeus has a sense of sexual intactness that applies to men and women, he also imagines both as equally penetrated by God in the process of purifying the flesh. The imagery of the church as the bride and the Lord as the groom is an important theme for Irenaeus. Irenaeus describes the Spirit as penetrating and purifying the virginal believer: “For this reason he desires the temple [i.e., the flesh] to be pure (mundum), that the Spirit of God may delight in it, as a bridegroom with a bride.”98 God desires a virginal flesh in the same way that a bridegroom desires the virginal flesh of the bride. Quoting Paul, when the

“unbelieving wife is sanctified through her husband” (1 Cor 7:14), this becomes a metaphor for the relationship between the Spirit and humanity. He points to the harlot-wife of Hosea, as well as Rahab, as symbols of the relationship to the divine:

“God will take pleasure to receive a Church which shall be sanctified by intercourse

(communicatione) with His Son, just as that woman was sanctified by intercourse

(communicatione) with the prophet.” He continues, “That which had been done in

97 Iren. AH V.10.1-2 (SC 153:122-28).

98 Iren. AH V.9.4 (SC 153:116). Et ideo mundum templum esse vult, ut delectetur Spiritus Dei in eo, quemadmodum sponsus ad sponsam.

188 type through his actions by the prophet, the Apostle demonstrates to have been done truly by Christ in the Church. Thus, too, did Moses also take to wife an

Ethiopian woman, whom he thus made Israelitish, prefiguring that the wild olive tree is grafted into the cultivated olive, and participates (participans) in its fatness

(Rom 9-11).”99 Here, participation, one the central terms for describing how the flesh and the Spirit shall interact, is compared typologically to the intercourse

(communicatione) between Hosea and the prostitute and Moses and the Egyptian.

The sexual language Irenaeus uses to describe the purifying relationship between God and humans relies on the logic of penetration. As with both the earth and Mary, humans remain virginal after God penetrates them to create life. In the same way, God is able to do so with all believers. He delights in his virgins with the

Spirit, and in so doing gives them life. Paul taught what Moses and Hosea had already done, that the penetration by a more righteous spouse sanctifies the penetrated partner. God’s penetration into humans, whether male or female, changes their status from impure to pure. As such, God’s masculinity acts upon the feminized bodies of the church and believers.

Just as intactness and divine penetration apply to both males and females, so also does the paradoxical state of virginal fecundity. Christ is the most potent figure in Irenaeus’ estimation, who not only brings life, but also sustains it. It is his place in

99 Iren. AH IV.20.12 (SC 153:670-72). et de hujusmodi hominibus beneplacitum habebit Deus assumere Ecclesiam, sanctificandam communicatione Filii ejus, sicut et illa sanctificata est communicatione prophetae….id quod a propheta typice per operationem factum est ostendit Apostolus vere factum in Ecclesia a Christo. Sic autem et Moyses Aethiopissam accipiebat uxorem, quam ipse Israelitidem fecit, praesignificans quoniam oleaster inseretur in olivam et participans pinguendinis ejus erit.

189 the flesh, which Irenaeus describes as a feminine substance, that puts Christ in this role of nurturer.

Et propter hoc, quasi infantibus, ille qui erat panis perfectus Patris lac nobis semetipsum praestavit, quod erat secundum hominem ejus adventus, ut, quasi a mammilla carnis ejus nutriti et per talem lactationem assueti manducare et bibere Verbum Dei, et eum qui est immortalitatis panis, qui est Spiritus Patris, in nobis ipsis continere possimus.

And because of this, us being as infants, he who was the perfect bread of the Father offered Himself to us as milk, when He appeared as a human, in order that we, being nourished, as it were, from the breast of his flesh, and having, by such milk nourishment, become accustomed to eat and drink the Word of God, may be able also to contain in ourselves the Bread of immortality, which is the Spirit of the Father.100

Here, Irenaeus imagines human beings breast-feeding from Christ as infants in order to grow into the fullness of the Word. Specifically, “the breast of his flesh” draws on the gendered language of the flesh itself as feminine. Christ’s incarnation is a breast for humanity to suckle until they are able to partake of the Spirit of the

Father. The flesh-breast acts as a sort of bridge that enables one to cross to fuller glory from flesh to Spirit. Here, Irenaeus maintains the hierarchy of full immortal glory over the flesh, and uses feminizing language to describe this hierarchy. The motherly “breast of his flesh” is for children, as yet unable to handle the bread of the

Spirit of the Father. The mother provides the milk of Word, while the Father provides the bread of the Spirit.

The motherly image of Christ is continued whenever Irenaeus speaks of his nourishment of human bodies. Christ, the breast, further prepares them through the Eucharistic bread and wine. Here, one moves from the figurative nourishment

100 Iren. AH IV.38.1 (SC 153:944-48)

190 to the literal nourishment that actually transforms the flesh. In particular, the body of the Lord is what produces the resurrected body of the believer.

Quomodo autem rursus dicunt carnem in ocrruptionem devenire et non percipere vitam, quae a corpore Domini et sanguine alitur?....Nostra autem consonans est sentential Eucharistiae, et Eucharistia rursus confrimat sententiam nostram. Oferimus enim ei quae sunt ejus, congruenter communicationem et unitatem praedicantes carnis et Spiritus. Quemadmodum enim qui est a terra panis, percipiens invocationem Dei, jam non communis panis est, sed Eucharistia, ex duabus rebus constans, terrena et caelesti : sic et corpora nostra percipientia Eucharistiam jam non sunt corruptibilia, spem resurrectionis habentia.

Then again, how can they [the heretics] say that the flesh, which is nourished with the body of the Lord and with His blood, goes to corruption, and does not partake of life?....But our opinion is in accordance with the Eucharist, and the Eucharist in turn establishes our opinion. For we offer to Him His own, announcing consistently the intercourse (communicationem) and union of the flesh and Spirit. For the bread, which is produced from the earth, when it receives the invocation of God, in no longer common bread, but the Eucharist, consisting of two realities, earthly and heavenly; so also our bodies, when they receive the Eucharist, are no longer corruptible, having the hope of the resurrection to eternity.101

The specification that the bread “is produced from the earth” recalls the connection to Adam’s flesh, and therefore the flesh in general. That which is produced from the earth, whether bread or flesh, is also sanctified and transformed by combining the

“two realities” of the heavenly and earthly, the flesh and the Spirit in “intercourse,” the same term used above to describe God’s relationship with the believer.

The act of “intercourse” between these otherwise disparate substances is the essence of the salvific act. This was accomplished through the “communion” that

101 Iren. AH IV.18.5 (SC 100:610-12). Fr. gr. 7. Πῶς τὴν σάρκα λέγουσιν εἰς φθορὰν χωρεῖν καὶ µὴ µετέχειν τῆς ζωῆς τὴν ἀπὸ τοῦ σώµατοσ τοῦ Κυρίου καὶ τοῦ αἵµατος αὐτοῦ τρεφοµένην;….Ἡµῖν δὲ σύµφωνος τῇ γνώµῃ ἡ εὐχαριστία καὶ ἡ εὐχαριστία βεϐαιοῖ τὴν γνώµην. Προσφέροµεν αὐτῷ τὰ ἴδια, ἐµµελῶς κοινωνίαν καὶ ἕνωσιν καταγγέλλοντες σαρκὸς καὶ Πνεύµατοσ. Ὡς γὰρ ὁ ἀπὸ τῆς γῆς ἄρτος προσλαϐόµενος τὴν ἐπίκλησιν τοῦ Θεοῦ οὐκέτι κοινὸς ἄρτος ἐστίν, ἀλλ᾽ εὐχαριστία ἐκ δύο πραγµάτων συνεστηκυῖα, ἐπιγείου τε καὶ οὐρανίου, οὕτως καὶ τὰ σὼµατα ἡµῶν µεταλαµβάνοντα τῆς εὐχαριστίας µηκέτι εἶναι φθαρτά, τὴν ἐλπίδα τῆς εἰς αἰῶνα ἀναστάσεως ἔχοντα.

191 Jesus Christ established between God and humans.102 The Eucharist itself symbolizes the resurrection, as much as it also prepares the mortal body to receive it.

Quando ergo et mixtus calix et factus panis percipit verbum Dei et fit Eucharistia sanguinis et corporis Christi, ex quibus augetur et consistit carnis nostrae substantia, quomodo carnem negant capacem esse donationis Dei quae est vita aeterna, quae sanguine et corpore Christi nutritur et membrum ejus ? Quemadmodum et beatus Apostolus ait in epistula quae est ad Ephesios : Quoniam membra sumus corporis ejus, de carne ejus et de ossibus ejus.

When, therefore, the mingled cup and the manufactured bread receives the Word of God, and is made the Eucharist of the blood and body of Christ, from which things the substance of our flesh is increased and supported, how can they affirm that the flesh is incapable of receiving the gift of God, which is life eternal, which [flesh] is nourished from the body and blood of the Lord, and is a part of Him?—even as the blessed Apostle declares in his Epistle to the Ephesians, that “we are parts of His body, of His flesh, and of His bones.”103

The analogy of becoming a part of Christ’s body by means of the Spirit is frequently used.104 The nourishment that comes from the Eucharist transforms the substance

102 Iren. AH III.18.7 (SC 211:366). communionem

103 Iren. AH V.2.3 (SC 153:34). Fr. gr. 4. (SC 153:34). Ὁπότε οὖν καὶ τὸ κεκραµένον ποτήριον καὶ ὁ γεγονὼς ἄρτος ἐπιδέχεται τὸν λόγον τοῦ Θεοῦ καὶ γίνεται εὐχαριστία καὶ σῶµα Χριστοῦ, ἐκ τοὐτων τε αὔξει καὶ συνέστηκεν ἡ τῆς σαρκὸς ἡµῶν ὑποστασις, πῶς δεκτικὴν µὴ εἶναι τὴν σάρκα λέγουσι τῆς δωρεᾶς τοῦ Θεοῦ, ἥτις ἐστι ζωὴ αἰώνιος, τὴν ἀπὸ τοῦ σώµατος καὶ αἵµατος τοῦ Κυρίου τρεφοµένην καὶ µέλος αὐτοῦ ὑπάρχουσαν; Καθὼς ὁ µακάριος Ἀπόστολός φησιν ἐν τῇ πρὸς Ἐφεσίους ἐπιστολῇ ὅτι «Μέλη ἐσµὲν τοῦ σώµατος αὐτοῦ, ἐκ τῆς σαρκὸς αὐτοῦ καὶ ἐκ τῶν ὀστέων αὐτοῦ»

104 Iren. AH V.2.3 (SC 153:36-38). Et quemadmodum lignum vitis depositum in terram suo fructificat tempore, et granum tritici decidens in terram et dissolutum multiplex surgit per Spiritum Dei qui continet omnia, quae deinde per sapientiam in usum hominis veniunt, et percipientia verbum Dei Eucharistia fiunt, quod est corpus et sanguis Christi, sic et nostra corpora ex ea nutrita et reposita in terram et resoluta in ea resurgent in suo tempore, Verbo Dei resurrectionem eis donante in gloriam Dei Patris: qui huic mortali immortalitatem circumdat et coruptibili incorruptelam gratuito donat.

And just as a cutting from the vine planted in the ground fructifies in its season, or as a corn of wheat falling into the earth and becoming decomposed, rises with multiplied increase by the Spirit of God, who contains all things, and then, through his wisdom, serves for the use of humans, and having received the Word of God, becomes the Eucharist, which is the body and blood of Christ; so also our bodies, being nourished by it, and deposited in the earth, and returning to it, shall rise at its time, the

192 of the flesh.105 The bodies that are nourished by it, though they die and are planted in the earth, shall fructify into incorruption. Christ’s flesh as nourishment continues the comparison between Christ as a nurse whose breast provides the milk that transforms the body.

Though the notion of penetration and fecundity are feminized descriptions of the sexual status of women in Irenaeus, and belong to the discourse of sexual difference in antiquity more broadly, these concepts are also applied to male bodies as well. The flesh as a feminine substance belongs to all bodies, both male and female. God’s active Spirit penetrates both male and female passive flesh. Similarly, while the earth and Mary are seen as fertile virgins, so is Christ depicted as bringing life to and nourishing his followers through explicitly female imagery. Irenaeus’s attempts to produce a sexually differentiated world in which there is no sexuality reintroduces sexuality (desire, sexual roles, and reproduction) in ways that complicate any neat division between the sexes.

Conclusions

Irenaeus locates sexual desires and reproduction firmly within mortal life as the defining feature of mortality. The language of maturation from childhood innocence, to adult sexuality, to finally a more mature sexual abstinence in Irenaeus resolves the problem between original perfection and eschatological perfection by figuring a period of growth in between the two. This period of growth both explains

Word of God granting them resurrection to the glory of God the Father, who freely gives to this mortal immortality, and to this corruptible incorruption.

105 Godehard Joppich, Salus Carnis: Eine Untersuchung in Der Theologie Des Hl. Irenäus Von Lyon, Münsterschwarzacher Studien ; Bd. 1 (Münsterschwarzach: Vier-Türme-Verlag, 1965), 77.

193 why there exists a difference between the beginning and end at all, despite the great similarities, as well as why humans find themselves in this middle stage. For

Irenaeus, between the protological and the eschatological is a period of growth, and it is in that period of growth in which Irenaeus places sexual desires and reproduction.

Though Irenaeus does find a place for sexuality in the schema of human progression, this does not translate to a particularly enthusiastic acceptance of sexuality. The problem for Irenaeus is that sex and reproduction have no place on either end of his chronology. Because sexuality belongs exclusively to mortality,

Irenaeus cannot resist seeing the loss of protological innocence in primarily sexual terms, as the moment in which knowledge and shame about reproduction enters.

What most distinguishes Adam and Eve in the garden is their lack of sexual knowledge, desire, and reproduction. When such a view is coupled with the depiction of the resurrected life as a period without desire, desire and reproduction are open to signification as evil. In both its protological and eschatological versions, the body in the “image and likeness” of God is one that is unambiguously chaste, and avoids such “evil things” as sexual desires.

As Irenaeus discusses purity in light of Adam and Christ, in addition to the virgins Eve and Mary, one is struck by the paradoxes of spiritual penetration and fecundity that accompany all of these bodies. This notion of virginity and sexual continence, and of the flesh itself, relies on feminized depictions of the body as penetrated and fertile. Rather than being uniquely female forms of virginity, these categories feminize all human bodies. These bodies are innocent in the sense that

194 they are without desire, but at the same time they are deeply penetrated by the

Spirit of God. Irenaeus’ language about the flesh relies upon feminizing terminology in order to create the view of a submissive flesh, submissive and obedient to the commands of God. Only such a feminized flesh can be penetrated by God’s Spirit so that he may delight in it. Such penetrated and fecund bodies that are both male and female destabilize the sexual difference between them that Irenaeus is invested in preserving in the resurrection. While for the previous chapters the elimination of the sexuality has introduced the destabilization of sexual difference, Irenaeus faces a separate issue. For Irenaeus it is the reintroduction of sexual language and imagery that provides the occasion for blurring the lines between maleness and femaleness.

195 6. Conclusion

In their articulations of the resurrected body, early Christians faced questions such as, will there be sexual desires, acts, and reproduction? How should one behave with respect to desires in this life? What distinguishes males and females? For early Christians, these questions involved an investigation of the nature of the substances of the human person. The resurrected body became a locus of the problems raised by certain notions of a sexualized, mortal flesh.

Besides mere factual knowledge, what can we learn from the early Christian self-conscious theorizing about the body? What does a study that focuses on the qualities of the resurrected body, rather than its substance, tell us about early

Christian thinking on this subject? Beyond a greater understanding of how they figured sexuality and sexual difference with respect to the resurrection, this study has offered contributions in three main areas. First, this study has offered a depiction of the landscape of early Christian thinking about the resurrection that is not predetermined by the “flesh” as the basis for similarities and differences among various Christian writers. Second, the meaning of the “flesh” as a substance in relationship to sexual desires, acts, and reproduction contributes to a fresh look at the contours of early Christianity, including the relationships among competing factions of Christians, as well as the relationship between Christianity and Greco-

Roman culture. Finally, early Christian discussions about naturalizing the body,

196 sexual difference, or denaturalizing sexuality function as particular formations of the body.

This dissertation has further sought to investigate the claim made by defenders of the resurrection of the flesh that they value the body and flesh. While their detractors hate it, by examining what the “body” and the “flesh” meant when early Christians invoked these terms. As Judith Butler has aptly shown, there is no recourse to the “body” that is not a further formation of that body.1 There is no pre- discursive claim to “the body.” In situating themselves as pro-body, these

Christians constructed the body in such a way that it could be a body to which they could assent. Such a body lacked desires, reproduction, and sexual practices. When taken from the perspective of modern Western societies, such a view may not appear to be body-positive at all, given the centrality of sexuality to the modern conception of the self. The point is that scholars cannot make assessments about what is “pro-body” without revealing the kinds of bodies that are being promoted, and the kinds of criteria that are used to make that assessment. When different criteria are used, one comes to different results.

In this study we have seen some areas where Ps. Justin, the EpRheg,

Athenagoras, and Irenaeus (and their rhetorically constructed opponents) agree and disagree with respect to the nature of the resurrection, the role of sexuality in mortal existence or death, and the persistence of sexual difference. All, it seems, agree in principle that sexual desires, acts, and reproduction are inessential to human existence and can be cast off in the resurrection, if not before. These desires

1 Butler, Bodies That Matter, 10.

197 and acts aren’t essential to the flesh, and the flesh can and will be without desires and will not reproduce in the idealized resurrected body. In this way, they distinguish between bodies as such and sexuality.

Further, all agree that bodies will be resurrected with all their parts, including the genitals. Bodies will retain their morphological specificity, but these parts will cease to signify sexually, and only signify in terms of difference between males and females. We shall hold off for a moment on the analysis of this point of agreement, and first consider their points of disagreement.

The Multiplicity of Christianity

The clearest area of disagreement that we have uncovered is whether or not sexual desires and acts, including reproduction, is morally permissible in this life.

Many of the writers considered here look to the resurrected body as a model for answering this question, but come to different conclusions. Ps. Justin is against procreative sex and argues that the resurrection of the genitals shows that virginity is preferable in this life and Christ has finally destroyed sexuality, while

Athenagoras and Irenaeus make a case in favor of procreation, even while holding up virginity as the protological and eschatological ideal. The author of the EpRheg does not consider sexuality in mortality per se, but given his view of the lack of the flesh in the resurrection, regardless of what he thinks about the permissibility of sexuality in this life, his view of the resurrection likely would similarly exclude the practices and desires associated with sexuality. His silence on the issue of sexuality in this life in light of his critique of the flesh perhaps indicates that sexuality is not a problem of the flesh with which he is concerned.

198 What this comparison shows is that the advocacy of the “flesh” in the resurrection does not indicate the precise attitudes that one will take toward sexuality. On the one hand, texts that advocate the resurrection of the flesh come to opposite conclusions. Ps. Justin is against procreative sex, while Irenaeus and

Athenagoras make a case in favor of procreation and sexuality. On the other hand, those who advocate resurrection without the flesh take opposite views as well.

While the opponents of Ps. Justin oppose sexuality as that which is quintessentially wrong with the body, the EpRheg says nothing to oppose sexuality, even while opposing the resurrection of the flesh. Though each text attempts to deduce practices from the type of resurrected body they imagine, what they end up with are divisions and alliances with respect to sex that do not match up to views of the resurrected body.

The divergence on the issue of sexual practice challenges one of the dominant themes in early Christianity, namely the idea that orthodox Christians embrace the body and the flesh as God’s creation, while pagans and heretical Christians vilify and hate the flesh. This discourse plays an important role in the writing of the history of Christianity, as scholars frequently reproduce this rhetoric uncritically.

Orthodox Christians are pro-body and flesh, while Gnostics, heretics, and “pagans” are anti-body and flesh. Albert Schweitzer developed an entire schema for categorizing the world’s mystic religions using precisely this rhetorical model.

Buddhism, he argued, was the most “world-negating” because of its attitude toward

“the body,” while Pauline Christianity was the most “world-affirming.”2

2 Albert Schweitzer and Johanna Powers, Christianity and the Religions of the World (New York,: George

199 The division of Christians along the lines of orthodoxy and heresy has taken many forms among modern historians writing about this period. One reviewer sums up the entire early Christian debate about the body as a controversy over the search for simplistic thinking (the Gnostic view) in the face of complexity (the orthodox view).3 The simple/complex and Gnostic/orthodox division helps explain both the occasional inconsistency and incoherence of the orthodox position, while at the same time claiming orthodoxy as intellectually more advanced than heresy.

Another reviewer has suggested that “we find virtually no spectrum of belief about life after death [among Christians]….It meant bodily resurrection.”4 This degree of consensus is abandoned, however, when he looks at Nag Hammadi texts.

“Consistency,” he complains, “(even supposing we could tell what would count as consistency in that kind of world view) was no doubt hard to achieve in the world of

Valentinian and similar speculation, and was in any case not likely to be a major priority.”5 “That kind of world view” is inconsistent and speculative, while real

Christians were in virtual lockstep about the bodily resurrection. These texts either

“denied or radically reinterpreted” the resurrection,6 “a late and drastic modification of Christian language,”7 while the real Christians simply preserved the original

H. Doran company, 1923), Albert Schweitzer and Charles E. B. Russell, Indian Thought and Its Development (New York,: H. Holt and Co., 1936).

3 Minns, Irenaeus, 76-77.

4 Wright, The Resurrection of the Son of God, 209.

5 Wright, The Resurrection of the Son of God, 547. Emphasis mine.

6 Wright, The Resurrection of the Son of God, 547.

7 Wright, The Resurrection of the Son of God, 550. Emphasis mine.

200 tradition. These counterfeit Christians “are loath to give up the word

[resurrection], because they want to seem to be some type of Christian.”8 The insidiousness of those who seem to be Christians is revealed when they adopt the language of the real Christians. The discursive strategy here mirrors the heresiologists of old, seeking to obscure tensions and differences within the

“orthodox” texts while exploiting the differences between “heretical texts” along the lines of selected standards of “consistency.”

Karen King has charged that “despite widespread recognition of the enormous variety of early Christianity, in practice this diversity has been resolved back into the two basic categories of the ancient master narrative: orthodoxy and heresy.”9 Instead, she suggests an approach in which “the focus is not upon identifying the essential characteristics of various homogenous types of

Christianity, but upon analyzing the variety of discourses, material and intellectual resources, processes, and practices by which people make sense of their lives in contexts of ancient pluralism, the governing regimes and institutions that further and constrain such practices, and the power relations that are at stake.”10 My own project has similarly sought challenge the ways in which modern historiography reproduces the discourse of orthodoxy and heresy by displacing the “flesh/not flesh” evaluation of the resurrected body (the central question of orthodoxy) and

8 Wright, The Resurrection of the Son of God, 550.

9 Karen L. King, "Which Early Christianity?," in The Oxford Handbook of Early Christian Studies, ed. Susan Ashbrook; Hunter Harvey, David G., Oxford Handbooks in Religion and Theology (Oxford ; New York: Oxford University Press, 2008), 70.

10King, "Which Early Christianity?," 72.

201 instead inquiring into the character of the “flesh” that is being discussed, with particular attention to sexuality.

What have been the purpose and result of reading so-called “proto-orthodox” texts like Ps. Justin, Athenagoras, and Irenaeus alongside “heretical” texts like

EpRheg? I should state at the outset that the purpose has not been to showcase the

“diversity” of early Christianity in a way that simply reifies these categories of proto-orthodox and heretical, which are not only anachronistic for the second- century, but interpretively mistake the discourse of orthodoxy and heresy as factually representative of the early Christian landscape. Rather, as King has argued, such claims “are better understood as reliable historical evidence of a particular positionality within a dialogical complex of voices that shift over time and place.”11 First, such a division tolerates the “differences” within orthodox texts as maintaining an underlying unity. For instance, despite the radically different notions of sexuality and virginity among Ps. Justin, Athenagoras, and Irenaeus, scholars categorize these texts as proto-orthodox because they all advocate the resurrection of the “flesh.” Such a prioritization of the “flesh” as the central issue in the debates about the resurrection is a theological strategy rooted in the discourse of orthodoxy and heresy. Which differences make a difference for categorizing early Christians? If one takes a different issue, say whether or not sexuality is part of God’s plan or even morally permitted, entirely different sets of texts are aligned.

Here, for example, Ps. Justin would fit with so-called heretical works like The Book of Thomas the Contender, which advocates virginity, while Irenaeus would be allied

11 King, "Social and Theological Effects of Heresiological Discourse," 29.

202 with his theological enemies, the Valentinians, who favor procreation and marriage.

By asking different questions than those determined within the discourse of orthodoxy and heresy, which are frequently reproduced in contemporary scholarship, one receives different results. Most importantly, one does not reveal simply the “diversity” of early Christian thought about the resurrection, but how the various discourses about the resurrected body overlapped, challenged, and subverted other ancient discourses about the body. By not taking for granted the assertions of orthodoxy (whatever their source) that the “flesh” is the central issue, and instead investigating the nature of that flesh, a study of ancient discourses about the resurrection reveals surprising results. Such results demonstrate the variability of bodies that can be inscribed with different notions of sexuality and sexual difference.

What then is the aim of decentering the question of the flesh with respect to the resurrection? What purpose is there in asking new questions and demonstrating the variety of answers that ancient Christian texts offer? Karen King has suggested, “it may be that exposing the multiple voices of tradition allows for our multiple voices and experiences, questionings and points of view.”12 The very existence of multiplicity provides an occasion for contemporary peoples to engage our own multiplicity, to question our own assumptions about bodies, sexuality, and sexual difference.

12 Karen L. King, "Toward a Discussion of the Category ‘Gnosis/Gnosticism’: The Case of the Epistle of Peter to Philip," in Apokryphe Evangelientraditionen, ed. Jens Schröter and Jörg Frey (Tübingen: forthcoming), conclusion.

203 Christianity and Greco-Roman Culture

How does this internal-Christian divergence with respect to the permissibility of sexuality in mortality affect how we understand the relationship between Christians and non-Christians? Much of the study of sexuality in this period revolves around Foucault’s provocative suggestion concerning the close relationship between Christianity and Greco-Roman thought with respect to sexual ethics. While earlier generations of scholars emphasized the moral gap between

Christianity and “paganism,” Foucault challenged the trend by arguing that there is great continuity. He locates the Christian rupture, however, in the hermeneutics of the self. This marked the transformation from the “care of the self” to a hermeneutics of desire as a mode of truth-telling.

Others have challenged Foucault on this point, suggesting that either he has misunderstood Christian contributions, or that he has misunderstood Greco-Roman philosophy. For instance, Kathy Gaca disagrees with Foucault, emphasizing that sexually-renouncing Christianity is a huge break, a misinterpretation of Stoic philosophy. The primary way in which she accomplishes this reading is to claim that the second-century “Stoics” are misreading earlier Stoic philosophy too.13 This move only shifts the problem back, since she never challenges the Christian reading of the second-century Stoics like Epictetus and Seneca who see marriage as a distraction for the wise man.14 Along these lines, Giulia Sissa challenges Foucault’s conceptualization of the Christian relationship to Greco-Roman philosophy by

13 Gaca, Making of Fornication, 75-93.

14 Gaca, Making of Fornication, 87-90.

204 arguing that the contribution that Foucault sees Christianity making is actually just as central to non-Christian thinking: “Michel Foucault has underestimated the

Stoics’ disjunction between ancient philosophy and Christian philosophy, with its extremely important consequences for the phenomenology of perception and for the valorisation of the imaginary.”15 She suggests that the “use of pleasure” and

“care of the self” were indeed concepts for thinking about sexuality in Greco-Roman thought. However, “the reasons why sexuality appeared disturbing and therefore worthy of philosophical analysis were related systematically not to pleasures and their management, but to desire and its makeup.”16 There is no care of the self and use of pleasure without first a hermeneutics of desire.

Others have suggested looking for a range of continuity and discontinuity to describe the relationship between Christianity and Greco-Roman culture.

Bernadette Brooten offers an example, suggesting that, “a focus on female homoeroticism makes this continuity clearer than would a focus on male homoeroticism, since nearly all extent sources on sexual relations between women condemn such relations….there is a cultural continuity of views on female homoeroticism.”17 Brooten’s argument suggests that, depending on the specific issue that one chooses to focus on, the case for “continuity” may be stronger or weaker. Even though others have made the claim for a greater degree of continuity

15 Sissa, Sex and Sensuality in the Ancient World, 206.

16 Sissa, Sex and Sensuality in the Ancient World, 205.

17 Brooten, Love between Women, 2-3.

205 between classical and Christian views of male homoeroticism,18 Brooten emphasizes that there is greater ambiguity in this case. Such a claim troubles any authoritative claim for “continuity” or “discontinuity” as an interpretive exercise, one which has included some evidence but excluded other evidence. Such a claim to “continuity” is always selective, whether the claim is for continuity between

Greco-Roman and Christian values, or between mortal flesh and resurrected flesh.

I’d like to depart from this debate not by asking whether a hermeneutics of the self was a new Christian innovation, but by considering how Christians’ conceptualization of the self as bodily, for some, inherently fleshy, figured in their diagnosis of desire and sexuality. It is precisely here, in the imagination of the resurrected body that Christianity breaks most severely with Greco-Roman culture, and the implications of this break have not yet been fully realized.

Having explored the significance of the disagreements among the various authors surveyed in this dissertation, let us return to the areas where these authors agree. I have suggested three broad areas of agreement. First, all of these authors suggest that the resurrected body will possess its “parts,” even though they may disagree on how the “parts” are defined. This term may be considered a sort of technical term from this period, where the “parts” function as the guarantor of the persistence of identity from this life to the resurrection. Second, the insistence upon the resurrection of the “parts” includes an insistence on sexual difference in the resurrection, a difference that can be reduced to the body itself. Third, all authors agree that regardless of whether or not sexual desires, practices, and

18 Skinner, Sexuality in Greek and Roman Culture, 283-89.

206 reproduction are permissible in mortality, they will not be features of resurrected bodies. These core areas of agreement rest on similar instabilities.

Parts

For the most part, the terms describing the resurrection were all highly contested and what one meant by “flesh” or “spirit” or even “body” was precisely the point of the dispute. What is the body? What exactly is the flesh? What does it mean to speak of something as “spiritual”? Little attention has been paid to the presence of another key term in this debate, namely, the place of the “parts.”19 One of the most important points this study has shown is that the term “parts” is crucial in the second-century resurrection debates. The authors discussed here utilize this term and defend it as a core understanding of the resurrection. In contrast, other terms to describe the resurrection, including those that describe its substance, such as “body” and “flesh,” are considerably less consistent across early Christian texts.

Though both Ps. Justin and Irenaeus speak of the “resurrection of the flesh,”

Athenagoras never uses this term, preferring “resurrection of the body” instead.

The EpRheg does not specify the precise substance of the resurrection, though it is certainly neither body nor flesh as Ps. Justin, Irenaeus, and Athenagoras understand those terms. Instead, he speaks of the persistence of the “living parts” after the

“visible parts” have died.

The focus on the “parts” of the body was central to medical theories

19 Ps. Justin and Athenagoras use the term µέρη. The Epistle to Rheginos and Irenaeus use the slightly different term µέλη, translated into Coptic as ⲛ̄ⲙⲉⲗⲟⲥ and Latin as membra. See, for instance, Iren. AH V.2.3 which translates Fr. gr. 4. (SC 153:34). Both EpRheg and Irenaeus are more indepted to Paul, who uses µέλη (e.g., Rom 6:13,19) to speak of the parts of the body. There is no significant difference between these two terms, which both refer to the “parts of the body” or often as “members.”

207 developing in the second century as well. Galen, for instance, was particularly interested in the anatomy of the body, railing against his rivals, including the

Methodists, whom he accused of not knowing enough about the particularities of the individual body parts.20 Close attention to the details of the body was the key to proper diagnosis and understanding of disease. All of the parts of the body had a particular function. His final work, On the Use of the Parts, details the teleological function of each part of the body. He emphasized his superiority over his rivals through a claim to a better understanding of the functioning of the human body.

Above all, the treatment for illness should be adapted to the individual.21 Close attention to the particularities of each case was key to successful treatment, rather than the same prescription for the apparently same symptoms. Attention to the parts was bound up with attention to the individual identity of the patient.

For the early Christians who emphasized the resurrection of the parts, the interest in the parts was not rooted in the functioning of those parts, but rather the continuity of the individual. Indeed, the proper functioning of the genitals, for instance, is not considered important at all in this diagnosis of the parts. Rather, the presence of the parts alone was enough to validate the continuity of the person.

The insistence upon the “parts” then constitutes a rhetorical claim to unity among various Christians and excludes those who would deny the raising of the parts, as

Ps. Justin represented his opponents doing. All of the surviving treatises of the resurrection surveyed in this dissertation from the late-second century see the

20 Vivian Nutton, Ancient Medicine, Series of Antiquity (London ; New York: Routledge, 2004), 194.

21 Nutton, Ancient Medicine, 237-39.

208 resurrection of the “parts” as a key point. In this way, the divisions within early

Christianity at this time cannot be said to line up uniformly along the issue of resurrection of the flesh versus spiritual resurrection. Rather, there was a division at this time concerning whether resurrected persons had “parts” or not.

Unfortunately, we do not have any surviving voices that reject the resurrection of the parts, suggesting that perhaps such an opposing view was merely a rhetorical production of Ps. Justin.

Just as there are disputes about what is meant by the resurrection of the flesh, as well as what the “spiritual resurrection” meant, so also there were debates about what it meant to affirm the resurrection of the parts. The diversity of thinking on this point should be taken seriously. For some, it meant the bits of the flesh. For others, the parts are just the bodily outline, its identifiable morphology.

In all cases, the interpretation of what the category “parts” means is necessarily selective. Even the most robust understanding of “parts” still means that it is without humors, or desires, or functions, and in some cases flesh and bodies. This diversity of thought about what was meant by “parts” does not signal that there were necessarily irreconcilable differences among those who advocated such a view, even if there might have been between some of the authors surveyed here.

For the purposes of this study, the “parts” are significant to a conception of sexual difference and sexuality. Not only do “parts” refer to the various bits of the body, but they include the reproductive organs. For Ps. Justin, for instance, the

“parts” are even metonymic for the gentials. The resurrection of such parts stood in for the flesh itself, in order to maintain the continuity of identity between the

209 mortal and resurrected self. The insistence on the resurrection of the sexual organs was an insistence on the continuity of wholeness. At the same time, however, these parts were the most subject to transformation. For Ps. Justin, the parts lost their function. For Irenaeus, they became “spiritual.” For Athenagoras, they lost the humors. And for the EpRheg, they lost the body itself, though they persisted in form. In this way, all of the authors set out to maintain some form of sexual difference, at the very least rooted in morphologically distinct body “parts.”

Sexual Difference

For all authors, the resurrected body’s “parts” pointed to morphological sexual difference as a durable, continuous aspect of one’s identity. In all cases, the resurrected body challenges traditional notions of sexual difference in antiquity that were rooted in reproduction and sexual activity. Early Christians imagine a body that is finally free from these problematic actions, but in doing so also free these bodies from the signification that these actions performed on bodies.

Reproductive and sexual roles, like activity and passivity, marked bodies as male and female in a way that morphology itself was not able to do. Instead, early

Christians have recourse to distinguishing “parts” alone, without any ways to locate them hierarchically once the discourses of sexuality no longer apply.

This notion of sexual difference in early Christianity points away from a model of “primal androgyny,” in which gender parity is subsumed under an ultimately masculine model. It is precisely this androgyny that early Christian resurrection discourse sought to challenge in the resurrection of the “parts.” What they produce is instead a kind of embodied subject to which other kinds of

210 ontological hierarchies of sexual difference no longer apply. In their critiques of sexuality as an inessential part of bodily particularity, these Christians destabilized their own discourses of sexual differences. This new, resurrected body lacking sexuality gives rise to a new set of problematics, exposing the inadequacies of the modes of doing sexual difference in antiquity. Sexuality is too intimately bound up with understandings of what sexual difference is to be neatly separated. The resurrected body that lacked a sexuality pointed toward ways that sexual difference itself rested on unstable ground, ground which needed to be constantly reasserted and performed to ensure its continuation.

Boyarin has expressed skepticism with respect to those who point to aspects of early Christian “gender bending,” suggesting, “insofar as they are completely immured in the dualism of the flesh and the spirit, they represent no change whatever in the status of gender.”22 While some, like Irenaeus, fail to break from the gendered flesh/spirit dichotomy, to suggest that he simply offers “no change” is to miss the ways in which the new system he produces subverts this very hierarchy, not with respect to the gendered “flesh/spirit” dichotomy, but with respect to others discourses about sexual difference, such as reproduction and activity/passivity. Inasmuch as the discourses around sexual desires, practices, and roles form the basis of hierarchical sexual difference, the resurrected body problematizes these discourses.

For early Christians, the appeal to continued sexual difference was rooted in the naturalization of such difference in the bodies themselves, natural differences

22 Boyarin, Radical Jew, 198-99.

211 that would be repeated in the continuity of the “parts” of the body between mortal and resurrected spheres. Yet, these same authors undercut the naturalization of reproduction and penetration that gave these parts their potent signification in sexual difference. These are precisely the kinds of “gaps and fissures” that warrant interrogation in the claim that resurrected bodies are sexed in the same way as they are in mortality. Butler speaks of the “gaps and fissures [that] are opened up as the constitutive instabilities in such constructions.”23 Amy Hollywood has suggested that, “the gaps and fissures in that citational process—the ways in which repetition both repeats the same and differs and defers from it—mark the multiple sites on/in which the contestation of regulatory norms occurs.”24 The resurrected body could be a site for contesting such regulatory norms as early Christians unlinked reproduction and penetration from these bodies.

In the case of the discourses of reproduction and penetration, it should be remembered that these are practiced. These modes of sexual differentiation cannot be reduced to a linguistic performance that is overlaid on mute, natural bodies.

Rather, the repetition of the practices of reproduction and penetration produced the differences that they presupposed. What then would it mean if these acts stopped being repeated? Does the cessation of these repetitions of norms alter the ways that bodies come to be constituted? When sexual acts of penetration and reproduction are absent both in terms of actuality and potentiality, what would it

23 Butler, Bodies That Matter, 10.

24 Amy Hollywood, "Performativity, Citationality, Ritualization," History of Religions 42, no. 2 (2002): 252.

212 mean to say that men and women were different? Without such discourses, early

Christians turned to the manifestations of the body itself as the site of sexual difference.

The attempt to root sexual difference as an irreducible phenomenon of the body was part of the insistence upon the resurrection of the “parts.” Early

Christians insisted on the resurrection of the parts as a way to guarantee the continuity of identity, including sexed identity, in the resurrection. This study has interrogated the claims to the persistence of sexually-differentiated identity as located in the body. Butler argues, “if it can be shown that in its constitutive history this ‘irreducible’ materiality is constructed through a problematic gendered matrix, the discursive practice by which matter is rendered irreducible simultaneously ontologizes and fixes that gendered matrix in its place.”25 She explains, “to invoke matter is to invoke a sedimented history of sexual hierarchy and sexual erasures which should surely be an object of feminist inquiry, but which would be quite problematic as a ground of feminist theory.”26 That is, materiality itself is rooted already in an ontology of sexual specificity. The argument that sexual specificity is somehow irreducible relies on a “gendered matrix” of male and female, though what constitutes a “male” and what constitutes a “female” is presumed to be prediscursive. In this sense, she aims to move beyond a view that the body is

“constructed,” which she sees as rooted in a conception of a fixed “sex” onto which is overlaid changeable notions of “gender.” Rather, she seeks to investigate

25 Butler, Bodies That Matter, 29.

26 Butler, Bodies That Matter, 49.

213 critically the ways in which what is “fixed” and “changeable” comes to be constituted.

This dissertation has shown that early Christians were engaged in a related project, to redefine and unsettle assumptions about the “body,” and that in the move to materialize sexual difference in the morphology of the body, they bumped up against the instability generated by separating sex difference from sexuality.

Though the goals and assumptions of this ancient Christian project are quite different from Butler’s, and in some cases quite problematic for modern feminist goals, we may take Butler’s view that “this unsettling of ‘matter’ can be understood as initiating new possibilities, new ways for bodies to matter.”27 Butler objects to matter as the ground of feminist theory, because “to return to matter requires that we return to matter as a sign which in its redoublings and contradictions enacts an inchoate drama of sexual difference.”28 The body is a site of sexual ambivalence rather than the foundation of a fixed identity. The contradictions and tensions between the attempt to fix and naturalize sexual difference, while simultaneously denaturalizing sexuality participate in this inchoate drama.

Sexuality

As noted previously, all of the surveyed authors (and their opponents!) agree that sexuality is ultimately inessential to the self as manifested by the resurrection. Regardless of their divergence on the issue of the role of sexuality in

27 Butler, Bodies That Matter, 30.

28 Butler, Bodies That Matter, 49.

214 mortality, Ps. Justin, the EpRheg, Athenagoras, and Irenaeus all agree that sexuality will ultimately be abandoned in the resurrection. What are the implications of such a view for the history of sexuality? What does the move to think of bodies and sexuality as analytically separable categories, to untether any particular sexuality from any particular body, attempt to accomplish? How do these formations of pure bodies work as formations of bodies? In what ways do Ps. Justin and Irenaeus attempt to naturalize certain features of the body, such as sexual difference, while attempting to denaturalize others, such as sexuality? How are such moves interrelated?

The apparent materiality of bodies, and the invisibility of desires, works to form normative values about the body. Materiality functions as a discursive strategy to identify what is essential to the self. Here we see a schema of essential vs. contingent, where bodies are taken as given and natural while desires are secondary and in different theological explanations “unnatural”—not God-given. The contingency of desires and sexuality disrupts any natural/essential connection between sexed bodies and desires.

The denaturalization of sexuality for early Christians may be analogously compared to contemporary discourses about the denaturalization of particular kinds of sexuality, especially heterosexuality. To suggest that sexual desires do not inherently belong to bodies, and that bodies may exist without them, is to unlink particular desires from particular bodies. The analytical division among

“sexuality,” “sex” and “gender” in contemporary theory is understood in ontological terms for early Christians, where “bodies” are to fixed nature as “sexuality” is to

215 variable culture. The resurrected body strips off the variable elements to reveal a

“pure” body or flesh, preserving what is most essential and discarding what is secondary. This tenuous relationship between sexuality and the body suggests that bodies are not meant to desire in any particular way.

The constitutive instability of the separation of sexuality and sexual difference troubles any claim to a continued sexual difference in the absence of sexuality. Early Christians were engaged in a project that tries to separate morphological bodies and sexuality, yet to follow through on such a project meant to destabilize the differences between maculine and feminine. At the same time, the inverse may also be true such that the insistence upon sexual difference prevents the complete erasure of sexuality in the resurrection. In trying to solve the theological problem of sexuality and reproduction in resurrected, eternal, stable bodies, they produce a new problem of how such bodies can signify sexual differences without recourse to an implied sexuality. If bodies are situated in a

"gendered matrix," in Butler's terms, that is always already rooted in a presumed sexuality of those bodies, how then it is possible to signify sexual difference without sexuality? In the case of Irenaeus and Athenagoras, for instance, both suggest that the virginity of the resurrection is one that has passed through sexuality in mortality. Irenaeus even depicts the relationship between God and resurrected bodies in sexualized terms. Resurrected purity is offered as the source of God’s desires and pleasures. Are the supposedly virginal bodies produced in the resurrection marked by the very sexuality they seek to refuse, only to be indelibly

216 stamped by it? Is sexuality an absence that continues to signify on the resurrected body?

Conclusion

We have seen how early Christian thinking about the resurrection, when examined closely, troubles the historiography of early Christianity that continues to accept the categories and priorities of “orthodoxy” in such a way as to elide the significant differences within and among these texts. Among the significant differences here is the treatment of sexual ethics, that is, whether or not sexuality and reproduction are permissible in mortality. Ps. Justin and Irenaeus diverge on this point, indicating that not only did the resurrection of the flesh entail different sexual ethics for different thinkers, but also indicates the plurality of different kinds of early Christians.

Further, within the history of sexuality, and in conversation with contemporary feminist theory, we have seen how early Christians wrestled with similar issues of the relationships between sexuality and bodies. The arc of contemporary feminist theory has moved from a division between sex and gender, to the addition of sexuality as a category, to an understanding that the body is already sexed/gendered, that particular bodily configurations perform sex and gender. Drawing on contemporary writers like Butler helps us to ask new questions about resurrection texts: how did these imaginings of ideal and pure bodies form bodies and make distinctions about bodies? In Irenaeus and Ps. Justin, we see related but different attempts to disentangle the body from desires, sex acts, and reproduction. These permit different sexual ethics and related different

217 formations of the body. Talking about the resurrection, for these authors, serves to prescribe ways of dealing with desire, sex, and reproduction. In attempting to solve the problem of the idea of a sexual flesh in the heavenly realm by making sexuality inessential to what it means to be embodied, early Christians threw a wrench into the connections between the particular bodies and particular desires.

What is destabilized is the naturalization of heterosexuality and with it the gendered roles in reproduction and hierarchical relations. By trying to eliminate sexuality in favor of promulgating a new moral ideology, these authors unwittingly destabilize gender hierarchy. Yet, the inseparability of sexuality from sexual difference persistently undermines attempts to separate them, as one is marked by the other. We have seen that the categories of bodies and sexuality are mutually interdependent. The interrelationship between sexuality and sexual difference complicates any attempt to separate them cleanly. Either the insistence upon the absence of sexuality mutes the significance of sexual difference, or the insistence upon sexual difference provides the occasion for the reintroduction of sexuality.

Early Christians attempt to solve this dilemma by appeals to nature, locating sexual difference in nature, in the unmediated body itself, and sexuality as unnatural, as something that can be eliminated from the body.

Such an attempt points to both promises and problems to imagine bodies without sexual differences, yet at the expense of sexuality and sexual particularities. The various attempts by early Christians to account for sexuality in relationship to the resurrection, whether it posed a problem or not, and how such a problem might be dealt with, force us to take a second look at notions of

218 Christianity as holding an essentialist understanding of sexual difference and a place for separating sexual identity from subjectivity. Rather, these early Christians set out views of the resurrection that reveal the inadequacies of the performances of sexual difference to repeat on an eternal stage inasmuch as they are located in and around sexual practices, roles and desires.

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