Review of "Paul's Triumph" by Christoph Heilig

Christoph Heilig, Paul's Triumph: Reassessing 2 Corinthians 2:14 in its literary and historical context (Biblical Tools and Studies 27; Leuven: Peeters, 2017), 335 pp.

A few months ago I was fortunate enough to win a copy of this book from the author through a draw undertaken on the Zürich New Testament Blog Facebook page. I am writing this review partly as a token of appreciation to Christoph. It cannot be construed as an expert or peer review as I am not an expert or Christoph's peer either in the specific subject matter (exegesis of 2 Cor. 2:14 and the concept of the Roman triumph), the sub-discipline (Pauline studies) or the discipline (biblical studies), though I have an undergraduate qualification relevant to the last.1 My review is more of a reader-response exercise, one that I hope will provide some meaningful insights.

1. Overall impressions and theological contextualisation

The book is a fascinating window into the complexity and richness of contemporary scholarly biblical exegesis. I suspect that many non-scholars, encountering 2 Cor. 2:14ab during public worship or personal Bible study in a modern translation (e.g., NRSV: "But thanks be to God, who in Christ always leads us in triumphal procession"), instantaneously form a mental picture of Paul's meaning and move on, confident that this picture accurately represents the apostle's thought. From this perspective, it is remarkable that a 300+ page monograph could be written about the meaning of these few words—the latest contribution to an ongoing academic conversation. It is equally remarkable that a 300+ page monograph could be written on these words and arrive only at probabilities, not certainties, about their meaning. This, however, is the nature of academic biblical studies today: the excesses of modernist hubris have taught us post-moderns that attaining the factually, objectively "correct" interpretation may simply be impossible.

Does this mean the discipline of biblical studies is both esoteric and futile? Mē genoito! Fresh exegetical insights like Christoph's will undoubtedly influence future translators, commentators and preachers and thence lay readers. My point is the opposite: we lay readers should be grateful for the enormous amount of work that scholars put into reconstructing—as far as possible—the authorial intent behind a biblical passage. We should also be aware of the limitations of the exegete. To express it with a qal wachomer, if even a 300-page monograph by an expert cannot uncover the meaning of a passage with certainty, how much less can five minutes of reflection by a lay reader do so?  Recovering authorial intent definitively is often simply impossible; we may have to be content with a set of options to which approximate relative probabilities may be assigned. Christoph appropriately defines exegesis as "the Evaluation of Hypotheses of Meaning" (p. 6). His monograph is a nice illustration of some points I made previously about the complexity of biblical interpretation in a blog post entitled The problem of understanding the Bible: reflections after four years of theological study. To wax theological, it is only faith nurtured by the Spirit and the Bride (Rev. 22:17), and not exegetical acumen, that can move us from hypotheses and probabilities to knowledge of God.

2. Likes

Enough abstracting—let me get to what I liked about the book. Reading the book was a great experience, if tedious at certain points, and what I liked best was the fine methodology and the meticulous way it was executed. Rarely have I seen an exegetical methodology that was nearly so, well, methodical! As a statistician with a still-latent interest in synergies between statistics and biblical studies, I was fascinated by Christoph's invocation of Bayesian theory (founded by a clergyman, appropriately enough) as the logical foundation of his exegetical task. The fundamental idea of Bayesian statistics (and here I am going a little beyond what Christoph explicitly discusses) is that, for a particular unknown quantity (expressed formally as a mathematical parameter),

Posterior probability ∝ (is proportional to) Prior probability × Likelihood

The posterior probability is what we are after. It is expressed as a conditional probability: the probability that the parameter (in our case, the meaning of the text) takes on a certain realisation or option, given the data (in our case, the text itself, as we have it).2 So the aim is to assign probabilities to different hypothetical options of meaning. If we can assign a probability near 100% to a particular option, or at least a relative probability far greater than any other option, we can propose this option as worthy of acceptance.

The posterior probability, as we can see, is (proportional to) the product of two other quantities: the prior probability and the likelihood. The prior probability captures information about the parameter (meaning of text) external to the data (text itself). The prior information includes the set of hypothetical options itself (perhaps generated by a literature review and lexicographical study, in our case), and antecedent probabilities assigned to these options. Christoph paraphrases "prior probability" for his exegetical purposes as "background plausibility," i.e. "which of the suggested meanings of 14b we would expect from Paul both generally and more specifically from the flow of thought in the passage—irrespective of the concrete wording of 14b" (p. 8). Included in the relevant background (prior) information are "external evidence" (e.g., semantic range of the key verb thriambeuō in texts proximate to Paul) and "internal evidence" (consisting of the "Larger Pauline context," the "Transition from 13 to 14a" and the "Relationship between 14b and 14c-15a").

The likelihood is, like the posterior, formally a conditional, but the direction of conditioning is reversed: it is the likelihood of the data (the text as we have it) given the parameter (the meaning the author wished to express). Hence, instead of asking, "Given that Paul wrote X, how probable is it that he meant Y?" (the form of the posterior), here we are asking, "Given that Paul meant Y, how likely is it that he would have written X?" Christoph paraphrases "likelihood" for his exegetical purposes as "explanatory potential," which answers the question, "If the hypothesis were true, would we expect this formulation (that is: the verb, its object and the adjuncts) or is it surprising?" (p. 9).

Christoph's Bayesian exegetical methodology has two great features. First, he correctly construes the objective as an estimated probability distribution assigned to hypothetical meanings rather than "Paul's intended meaning" itself, which is properly unknowable. Second, he rightly gives due attention to all three ingredients necessary to arrive at a sound posterior probability distribution: (1) a full (as far as possible) set of hypothetical options; (2) an evaluation of the prior probability (background plausibility) of the various options; (3) an evaluation of the likelihood (explanatory potential) of the various options. This last is a particular strength of Christoph's study, because my own reading experience suggests that explanatory potential is often neglected in exegetical studies relative to background plausibility. This is a major issue because, according to Bayesian theory, explanatory potential and background plausibility are equally important! For instance, consider a text with two competing interpretative options, A and B. Scholars conduct exegesis of the text focusing exclusively on background plausibility and determine that the background plausibility of A is five times that of B. They conclude, accordingly, that the text is five times as likely to mean A as B. Along comes a new scholar who supplements the previous research with an "explanatory potential analysis" and finds that the explanatory potential of B is five times that of A. The new conclusion (posterior), following the Bayesian multiplicative law above, is that meanings A and B are equally probable! I wonder how many exegetical communes opiniones might be overturned if scholars were to consider explanatory potential as important as background plausibility.

Second only to his Bayesian methodology in my list of "likes" about Christoph's book was his lively and helpful discussion of lexical semantics. His treatment of this subject, and how it applies to his Bayesian methodology, was so useful to me that I would be tempted to cite it as a source on lexical semantics (of course only as a supplement to standard works such as Silva's Biblical Words and their Meaning and Nida and Louw's Lexical Semantics of the Greek New Testament). He offers some amusing comments about the English word nonplussed, which—when used at all—is often used with the exact opposite of its intended meaning.3 This called to my mind an analogous case where the meaning of an expression is held constant but its form is reversed. The English phrase "I couldn't care less" expresses that one's level of interest is minimal. However, one often hears the phrase "I could care less" used with the same intended meaning, even though it literally only that one's level of interest is not maximal. Probably the double negation ("couldn't...less") in the original phrase has tripped up some people whose level of care about aligning semantics with syntax is not maximal. Anyway, I digress.

2.1. Description of argument

Everything I have said so far pertains only to Christoph's introductory chapter, which was the most captivating part of the book to me only because I am more interested in the broad problem of biblical exegesis than the specific problem of what 2 Cor. 2:14b means. Still, the rest of the book is an impressive instantiation of the proposed methodology. Christoph devotes 91 pages to identifying the hypothetical options—what 2 Cor. 2:14b could possibly mean. This is partly because he identifies a need for a fresh lexicographical study of thriambeuō, which he undertakes with the aid of Thesaurus Linguae Graeca (Oh, how I wish to live to see the day when it enters the public domain!) Besides pointing out some shortcomings in previous lexicographical research on thriambeuō, Christoph discusses specific lexical problems such as the semantic range of the verb (particularly when transitive as in 2 Cor. 2:14b) and whether the verb necessarily stresses the direct object's movement in the procession and the object's exhibition. He finds that 

one could define the (or a) meaning of transitive θριαμβεύειν in a way that includes the following components: 

1. the context of the act: a triumphal procession

2. the act itself: causation of [somebody] or [something] to move

3. the accompanying act: a movement of the agent (behind the object)

4. the result of the act: the display of the object to those watching the procession (p. 101)

He thus proposes the definition, "to cause [somebody or something] to move (before oneself) in a triumphal procession in order to display [somebody or something] to the watching crowd" (p. 101).

Now "equipped with several options for interpreting the use of θριαμβεύειν in 2 Cor 2:14b" (p. 116), Christoph proceeds to Part 2, "Evaluating Background Plausibilities." Here, under "external evidence" he discusses issues such as what Paul and his readers might plausibly have known about Roman triumph processions, whether the source of Paul's allusion is a general Roman practice or a specific occurrence of this practice (e.g., Claudius's triumph in 44 C.E.), and whether pagan processions other than the triumph may have influenced Paul's thought. He then proceeds to "internal evidence," offering a detailed discussion of the flow of argument in the immediate context of 2 Cor. 2:14b.

Next comes Part 3, where Christoph evaluates the explanatory potential of competing interpretative options. This entails again coming up with other hypothetical options, this time other ways Paul might have expressed a meaning equivalent to a hypothetical meaning of the text of 2 Cor. 2:14b. Considering first the verb itself, Christoph is able to virtually rule out that Paul used thriambeuein as a "dead metaphor" that no longer evoked the original context of a Roman triumph (p. 206). Other issues he considers are whether transitive thriambeuein is a likely way for Paul to have expressed the idea of exposure to social shame (p. 208), the idea of Paul "as a victorious general who celebrates together with God" (p. 211), the idea of Paul as an incense bearer within the victorious party (p. 212), the idea of Paul as a defeated foe over whom God is celebrating victory (pp. 216-17) and the idea of Paul as a captive "led by God in his triumphal procession" (p. 217). He concludes that the latter meaning is the most probable for 2 Cor. 2:14b in view of its background plausibility and explanatory potential.

Christoph next turns to the explanatory potential of various interpretations of the direct object (hēmas, "us") and the adjuncts (pantote, "always" and en tō Christō, "in Christ"). He finds that "us" "refers specifically to the team that works towards the realisation of Paul's commission" (p. 223), that "always" emphasises that "God is triumphing continuously" (p. 225), and that "in Christ" locates the procession itself, "strengthening the message of the divine agency behind the activity of Paul and his co-workers at the level of the subject matter" (p. 237). Christoph offers a valuable insight on the contribution of "always" to the explanatory potential of certain interpretations: it "automatically implies that what comes after the procession (imprisonment, execution, Roman citizenship, etc.) is not in view" (p. 225).

Commencing his concluding section, Christoph summarises his findings thus far by pointing out that several exegetical options that had performed well in terms of background plausibility "broke down completely" with respect to explanatory potential (which reinforces the methodological importance of the latter). The only options that perform well under both criteria are "Hafemann's suggestion that 14b expresses Paul's apostolic suffering in terms of the triumphal procession" and "Breytenbach's (and Schröter's) interpretation of the triumph as referring to Paul's ministry since his conversion" without necessarily evoking the "captive" aspect (p. 241). He then argues that Paul's metaphor more likely pertains to spatial movement (i.e. the itinerant nature of his ministry) than suffering: Paul wants to offer "the correct understanding of what might not look like a spirit-driven ministry" (p. 243). Christoph then teases out the finer aspects of the metaphor, such as which negative (captivity, shame, death) and positive (under God's control, bringing glory to God) connotations of the triumph imagery are intended. He is particularly interested in whether Paul "wants to transform the perception of his readers [about his mission or]... simply to reaffirm it" (p. 254); he leans toward the former.

In his final chapter, Christoph considers the implications of his interpretation of 2 Cor. 2:14 for Paul's engagement with Roman imperial ideology. His key finding here is that "Paul's use of the triumph imagery demonstrates that he was actively observing and engaging with his Roman environment" (p. 276). While this part of my review has been more descriptive than evaluative, I have made it a subsection within "Likes" simply because the content is so thoroughly researched, well argued and well written.

3. Dislikes

It should be evident that I enjoyed this book thoroughly. The couple of dislikes I am about to mention are of trifling importance compared with the likes mentioned above. My biggest complaint would be that the book ends too abruptly. The section called "Conclusion," and the chapter within it called "Summary of Exegesis," actually still introduce and discuss new ideas throughout, and do not recapitulate the argument and findings to the extent that one would expect. Thus, if one were to return to the book after some time, wanting to quickly summarise the argument and points within a literature survey for instance, one would find it an arduous task—if one had not made careful notes on the first reading, one would probably have to reread the entire book. Furthermore, what is arguably the climax of the book's exegesis is expressed in a somewhat puzzling way:

Thus, the complex move to encourage the Corinthians to identify themselves with the watching crowd only to find themselves challenged in their simplistic perception of Paul's ministry is not as far-fetched as one might think at first. (p. 259, emphasis original)

By stating only that this reading of Paul's intent is less far-fetched than one might think, Christoph leaves open the implication that it is still somewhat far-fetched. Yet by italicizing the sentence and ending a pivotal chapter with it, he signals that he considers it very important. While one appreciates Christoph's care not to overstate his case, it seems he may have undersold the idea. Perhaps this sentence should have been followed with a more positive, though still not dogmatic, expression of the merits of this interpretation.

Finally, there are a few linguistic and stylistic errors, though not enough to be a significant problem. I did not note down all that I noticed (which I think were fewer than ten), but "vine" on p. 16 should be "wine" (the oversight may, ironically, be related to semantic interplay between languages—the very topic Christoph is discussing at this point). There are also some instances where a period (full stop) is used within quotation marks and the sentence continues outside the quotation marks (e.g., p. 18).4 I have not seen this before, and am not sure it is grammatically correct—I think the period should have been omitted.

Now let me arrive at a closing remark: Christoph's monograph is undoubtedly at the vanguard of biblical scholarship. It is a suitable subject for the verb thriambeuō, though it would be more diplomatic to read it intransitively in this case.

Footnotes

• 1 I do have some publications in biblical studies journals, with hopefully more on the way. See Thomas J. Farrar and Guy J. Williams, "Diabolical Data: A critical inventory of New Testament Satanology," JSNT 39 (2016): 40-71; Thomas J. Farrar and Guy J. Williams, "Talk of the Devil: Unpacking the language of New Testament Satanology," JSNT 39 (2016): 72-96; Thomas J. Farrar, "New Testament Satanology and leading suprahuman opponents in Second Temple Jewish literature: A religion-historical analysis," JTS (forthcoming). I aspire to do an interdisciplinary doctorate in statistics and biblical studies, which is one reason why Christoph's application of Bayesian probability theory to biblical exegesis is of great interest to me.
• 2 In the case of biblical exegesis, of course, the data itself may be uncertain, and since the "internal" aspect of textual criticism has interdependence with the prior and the posterior, the logic becomes much more complicated. Fortunately, the text seems secure in 2 Cor. 2:14.
• 3 Actually, this comes later in the book on p. 196, but it is in keeping with his earlier discussion of lexical semantics.
• 4 'The statement "The cat is black." uses the same concept of 'blackness' as the sentence "The car is black."'

The atonement theology of Romans with special reference to Rom. 3:21-26

I've uploaded an essay to the web entitled The atonement theology of Romans with special reference to Rom. 3:21-26. This represents my first foray into the thorny subject of atonement theology. This study moves outward in concentric circles from a single passage which receives the lion's share of the attention (Rom. 3:21-26) to a brief consideration of other relevant passages in Romans and finally in other Pauline letters. The study has implications for New Testament theology and systematic theology, but these are not discussed.

This essay was completed as part of my theology studies at King's Evangelical Divinity School (hence one will detect a special interest in Evangelical interpretations of Paul's atonement theology). It was the assessment for a module entitled Theology of Romans and I selected it from a list of four essay topic options. This was the final module I had to complete for the degree program apart from the Honours dissertation, with which I'm now busy. I've become stingy about sharing my essay assignments online, as I harbour ambitions of spinning some of them off into peer-reviewed publications in the future, and don't want to compromise the copyright. However, while I hope this study offers some insight, I am under no illusions about publishing as a Pauline scholar in the foreseeable future.

Below is an abstract for the study.

This study investigates Paul's atonement theology in Romans with particular emphasis on Rom. 3:21-26 and concludes that a representative-participatory model best explains Paul's atonement concept. "Representative" denotes Christ's function as the new Adam, the federal head of a new humanity freed from sin. "Participatory" denotes that, just as Christ entered into our humanity and shared in our death, so we must participate in his death if we are to enter into the new humanity founded by his resurrection. Aspects of Rom. 3:21-26 that are analysed include the plight (Rom. 3:23), δικαιο-terminology, the πίστις Χριστοῦ debate, redemption, the meaning of ἱλαστήριον and the πάρεσις of former sins. It is argued that, while Rom. 3:21-26 is concerned more with the "that" of the atonement than the "how," it does offer hints of a representative-participatory model, which are further developed in other texts, especially Rom. 8:3-4, Gal. 3:13 and 2 Cor. 5:21. Paul's interpretation of the atonement was multivalent and it is not claimed that the model offered here exhausts it. However, it is argued that Paul's thought is inconsistent with a penal substitution model of atonement, particularly with its understanding of the relationship between Jesus's death and God's wrath.

On prepositions and pre-existence

What follows is a largely a summary of Gregory E. Sterling’s paper, Prepositional Metaphysics in Jewish Wisdom Speculation and Early Christian Liturgical Texts.[1] This rather intimidating title disguises a fascinating essay with significant Christological implications, particularly pertaining to New Testament texts which ascribe to Christ a role in the creation of all things.

Sterling begins his paper by highlighting the role that significant prepositional phrases in the New Testament played in the Arian controversy.  He notes that ‘The tutor of the future emperor Julian had argued that the use of ἐξ οὖ in reference to the Father and δι’ οὖ in reference to the Son [in 1 Cor 8:6] marked a distinction between the two since dissimilar terms imply dissimilar natures.’[2]

He then asks whether early Christians used such prepositional phrases in the technical way in which they were used in Hellenistic philosophy.

For instance, the pseudonymous author of De mundo (c. 3^rd century BC) wrote: ‘all things are from God (ἐκ θεοῦ) and through God (διὰ θεοῦ) hold together for us’.[3] Aelius Aristides (2^nd century AD) addressed the god Serapis with the words, ‘For all things everywhere are through you (διὰ σοῦ) and have become for us on account of you (διὰ σέ)’.[4]

Aetius the doxographer (between 2^nd century BC and 1^st century AD) states the following concerning Plato’s view of causation:

Plato held there were three causes. He says: ‘by which (ὑφ’ οὖ), out of which (ἐξ οὖ), to which (πρὸς ὅ)’. He considers the by which (τὸ ὑφ’ οὖ) to be the most important. This was that which creates, that is the mind.[5]

Hellenistic Jewish writer Philo of Alexandria (1^st century AD) held a Middle Platonic position which described four causes:

For many things must come together for the generation of something: the by which (τὸ ὑφ’ οὖ), the from which (τὸ ἐξ οὖ), the through which (τὸ δι’ οὖ), and the for which (τὸ δι’ ὅ)…The by which (τὸ ὑφ’ οὖ) is the cause (τὸ αἴτιον), the from which (τὸ ἐξ οὖ) is the matter (ἡ ὑλη), the through which (τὸ δι’ οὖ) is the tool (τὸ ἐργαλεῖον), the for which (τὸ δι’ ὅ) is the purpose (ἡ αἰτία).[6]

Philo identifies each of these with reference to the cosmos:

[the] cause (αἴτιον) is God, by whom (ὑφ’ οὖ) it came into existence, its material (ἡ ὑλη) is the four elements out of which (ἐξ ὧν) it has been composed, its instrument (ὄργανον) is the Logos of God (λόγος θεοῦ) through whom (δι’ οὗ) it was constructed, the purpose (αἰτία) of its construction is the goodness of the Demiurge.[7]

He goes on to note that Philo does not speak exclusively of the Logos as the instrument of creation; he also uses the same expression for Wisdom (which he elsewhere equates with the Logos).[8]

Broadly speaking, Sterling identified two Hellenistic philosophical models for explaining causation: the Stoic model and the Middle Platonic. The former view holds that there is one cause which can be described in various ways (as in Pseudo-Aristotle and Aelius Aristides) while the latter holds that there are several causes which can be identified (as in Aetius’ citation of Plato, and Philo). The key claim of Sterling’s paper are that the NT texts which use prepositional phrases metaphysically do so with their technical philosophical meanings – some using Stoic formulations for God and others using Middle Platonic formulations for Christ.[9]

Sterling then turns to exegesis of New Testament texts which use such prepositional phrases metaphysically to denote cause, which is ‘almost always signaled through the reference to “all things” (πάντα)’.[10] He observes that these texts are all regarded as reflecting early Christian liturgical practice in some way.[11]

He regards Rom. 11:36 and Heb. 2:10 as Stoic formulations for God. In the former case, Paul wrote, ‘for all things are from him (ἐξ αὐτοῦ) and through him (δι’ αὐτοῦ) and for him (εἰς αὐτόν)’.[12] In the latter case, the author wrote, ‘it is fitting for him for whom (δι’ ὅν) are all things and through whom (δι’ οὖ) are all things…’[13] In both cases, multiple prepositional constructions (notably including διὰ + genitive) are used to refer to a single cause.

Another group of texts (Heb. 1:2; John 1:3, 10; Col. 1:16) uses Platonic formulations to describe the Son’s role in creation. Heb. 1:2 says concerning the Son, ‘through whom (δι’ οὖ) he made the worlds’.[14] This formulation makes a clear distinction between God and the agent of creation. In this way it aligns with Middle Platonism which developed the instrumental agency which developed in the first century BCE. (Sterling 233)

John 1:3, 10 says concerning the Logos (who is evidently personal at least in v. 10), ‘the cosmos came into existence through him (δι’ αὐτοῦ)’.[15] Col. 1:16 uses three distinct prepositional phrases to describe Christ’s relationship to creation: the familiar ‘through him’ (δι’ αὐτοῦ), as well as ‘in him’ (ἐν αὐτῷ) and ‘for him’ (εἰς αὐτόν). On this, Sterling comments, ‘I suggest that the Christians who first set out this material were expanding the cosmological functions of Christ just as Philo expanded the functions for the Logos’.[16]

Is Col. 1:16 referring to the original creation or only the new creation? Sterling thinks that a careful analysis of the literary structure of the passage reveals that it consists of three units: one cosmological (Col. 1:15-16), one soteriological (Col. 1:18-20) and a middle unit which makes the transition between the two (Col. 1:17). He concludes,

The close parallels between the first and third units suggest that the cosmological material became the basis for the soteriological, i.e. the distinctive Christian contribution lies in the soteriological application of the pre-existing cosmological schema.[17]

Most intriguing of all is what Sterling describes as a ‘mixed text’ which brings both cosmological and soteriological concerns together: 1 Cor. 8:6. This verse states, ‘But for us there is one God the Father, from whom (ἐξ αὐτοῦ) are all things and we for him (εἰς αὐτόν), and one Lord, Jesus Christ, through whom (δι’ οὖ) are all things and we through him (δι’ αὐτοῦ)’.[18] Here, ‘The first half of each phrase is cosmological; the second half is soteriological’.[19]

Sterling points out the parallel in the contrast of prepositions with 1 Cor. 11:12, which says, ‘For just as the woman is from the man (ἐκ τοῦ ἀνδρός), so is the man also through the woman (διὰ τῆς γυναικός)’.[20]

Sterling concludes by asking what was the source of early Christian use of metaphysical formulations such as those above. He hypothesizes that ‘Stoic and Platonic formulations of prepositional metaphysics found their way into Jewish synagogue liturgies in association with both attempts to present God in philosophical categories and in Wisdom speculations’.[21] The early church adopted these formulations, Christianized them, and added a soteriological dimension.

The Christological implications of the texts discussed above are quite clear, especially in light of Sterling’s study: they imply Christ’s personal pre-existence and active participation in creation. The minority of scholars who deny this, notably Dunn, generally do so on the grounds that these texts are not actually talking about Christ himself, but about Christ as the embodiment of God’s power. For instance, Dunn in Christology of the Making comments on Col. 1:15-20,

The two strophes become quite consistent as soon as we realize that throughout the hymn we are not talking about God’s creative power per se, nor of Christ per se, but of Christ whom Christians came to recognize as the embodiment and definition of that power… Is then the Colossian hymn writer trying to say any more than that the creation and Christ must be understood in relation to each other; now that Christ has been raised from the dead the power and purpose in creation cannot be fully understood except in terms of Christ, and so too Christ cannot be fully understood except in terms of that wise activity of God which has made the world what it is (ἐν), which gives the world its meaning (διά) and which will bring the world to its appointed end (εἰς).[22]

Dunn offers a dubious interpretation of διὰ here in view of the genitive accompanying noun. Furthermore, while we can agree with him – especially in light of Sterling’s analysis of Philo’s Middle Platonism – that Jewish ideas about Wisdom lie behind the Christology of the hymn of Col. 1:15-20,[23] Dunn’s exegesis faces a significant problem that is obvious to lay and academic readers alike: ‘The first stanza is about a person, not merely the power of God exhibited in creation’.[24] Indeed, Dunn himself conceded that ‘it would appear to be clear that both Paul and the pre-Pauline hymn are attributing pre-existence to Christ’ in Col. 1:16[25] (Dunn, p. 189), and furthermore that ‘it is hard to imagine any first-century reader interpreting the first strophe except as a reference to the “old” creation’.[26] Dunn’s reading of this text is too complex to be convincing, leaving little doubt that this text says what it appears to say – that Christ actively participated in the creation of heaven and earth and everything in them.[27]

Schenck follows Dunn in taking a similar approach to Heb. 1:2c. Schenck states, ‘To speak of Christ as creator is to recognize that he is the wisdom of God par excellence, the final goal and purpose of God for creation.’[28] This neglects the point that the writer could have made precisely this point simply by following διὰ with an accusative pronoun. That he instead followed it with a genitive pronoun implies that he intended something different - namely, Christ’s direct involvement in creation. Hence, Talbert rightly states, ‘Pre-existence is implied in the prologue’s statement that Christ is the agent of creation (1:2).’[29]

Similar arguments apply to 1 Cor. 8:6. A careful analysis of these texts leaves me confident that I made the right choice to leave behind the unitarian Christology which I was taught growing up and acknowledge Jesus as the pre-existent Lord of all creation.

---

[1] Sterling, G.E. (1997). Prepositional Metaphysics in Jewish Wisdom Speculation and Early Christian Liturgical Texts. The Studia Philonica annual, 9, 219-238.

[2] Sterling 1997: 219.

[3] Pseudo-Aristotle, De Mundo 397b, cited Sterling 1997: 223.

[4] Aelius Aristides 45.14, cited Sterling 1997: 223-224.

[5] Aetius, Plac. 1.11.2, cited in Sterling 1997: 226.

[6] Philo, On the Cherubim 124-127, cited in Sterling 1997: 227.

[7] Philo, On the Cherubim 124-127, cited in Sterling 1997: 227.

[8] See Sterling 1997: 229.

[9] Sterling 1997: 232.

[10] Sterling 1997: 232.

[11] Sterling 1997: 231.

[12] trans. Sterling 1997: 233.

[13] trans. Sterling 1997: 233.

[14] trans. Sterling 1997: 233.

[15] trans. Sterling 1997: 233.

[16] Sterling 1997: 235.

[17] Sterling 1997: 235.

[18] trans. Sterling 1997: 235.

[19] Sterling 1997: 236.

[20] trans. Sterling 1997: 235. This can assist us in understanding the sense of the διὰ + genitive as used for Christ’s role in creation. It clearly does not mean ‘because of’ or ‘for the sake of’, but implies a direct, instrumental role.

[21] Sterling 1997: 237.

[22] Dunn, J.D.G. (1980). Christology in the Making: A New Testament Inquiry into the Origins of the Doctrine of the Incarnation. London: SCM Press, pp. 193-194.

[23] Note Moo’s comment: “however common or basic such parallels might be, Paul’s identification of Christ with Wisdom constitutes no reason to deny personal preexistence in the key texts.” (Moo, D.J. (2005). The Christology of the Early Pauline Letters. In R.N. Longenecker (Ed.), Contours of Christology in the New Testament (pp. 169-192). Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, p. 178.)

[24] Witherington, B. III. (2007). The Letters to Philemon, the Colossians, and the Ephesians: A Socio-Rhetorical Commentary. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, p. 132.

[25] Dunn 1980: 189.

[26] Dunn 1980: 190.

[27] On the qualification of the ‘all things’ into various categories in in Col. 1:16, Wilson remarks: ‘These words emphasize the absolute completeness of τὰ πάντα… it is the whole of creation that is in view, things invisible as well as those which can be seen. This includes the thrones, dominions, rulers and powers: they are part of the creation, and therefore subordinate to the one ‘‘in whom” all things were created.’ (Wilson, R. McL. (2005). Colossians and Philemon. London: T&T Clark, p. 139).

[28] Schenck, K. (1997). Keeping His Appointment: Creation and Enthronement in Hebrews.

Journal for the Study of the New Testament, 19(66), 91-117. Here p. 106.

[29] Talbert, C.H. (2011). The Myth of a Descending-Ascending Redeemer in Mediterranean Antiquity. In The development of Christology during the first hundred years and other

essays on early Christian Christology (pp. 83-112). Leiden: Brill, p. 107.

"Not against flesh and blood": the superhuman opponent of Ephesians 6

Ephesians 6:10-17 is one of the most well-known passages in the New Testament. It is also a passage that offers important insights into the early Christian understanding of ho diabolos, the devil, and for this reason it is a passage that demands careful study by Christadelphians.

Christadelphian doctrine defines the devil not as a supernatural, personal being, but rather as a personification of 'sin in the flesh'. As Christadelphian pioneer Robert Roberts put it, "Sin in the flesh, then, is the devil destroyed by Jesus in his death."¹

Fred Pearce similarly defined the devil which tempted Jesus as "the personification of that human urge to gratify his own desires,"² and Watkins defines the devil as "ungodly human desires"³ or "human lusts."⁴

The Christadelphian devil, then, is fundamentally a human phenomenon; an internal component of fleshly human nature. Some plausible arguments for this theological position can be made, and some have found them convincing, particularly if their worldview predisposed them against belief in an external, supernatural devil. I've written a number of articles explaining why I no longer think the Christadelphian understanding of the devil stands up under a close examination of the biblical testimony.⁵ Nowhere, however, is the discrepancy between the Bible and the Christadelphian view more stark than in Ephesians 6:11-12. This passage reads, in the ESV, as follows:

11 Put on the whole armor of God, that you may be able to stand against the schemes of the devil. 12 For we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers over this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places.

A Semitic Idiom

Our primary focus here is on the first clause of v. 12: "For we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but..."

The significance of this clause for correctly interpreting the opponents in this passage seems to have been missed by Christadelphian writers. For this clause explicitly rules out the Christadelphian principle that the devil is fundamentally a human phenomenon, an aspect or consequence of human flesh-and-blood nature.

This is already apparent on a surface reading of the text, but becomes even clearer upon closer study. "Flesh and blood" is a Semitic idiom for a human being,⁶ or human nature. As Evans comments on its use in Matthew 16:17:

"The phrase ‘flesh and blood’ (= Hebr. basar we-dam is a Semitic idiom, meaning a human being, as opposed to an angel or to God. (This idiom occurs in rabbinic literature frequently and is usually translated ‘mortal. It also occurs in Gal. 1:16, ‘I did not consult with flesh and blood’; Ignatius, Philippians [sic] 7:2, ‘human flesh’; cv. 1 Cor. 15:50; Eph. 6:12; Heb. 2:14)."⁷

When we look at how this idiom is used elsewhere, including the Old Testament Apocrypha and pseudepigrapha, the rest of the New Testament, and rabbinic literature, some interesting details come to light. In some texts, the term 'flesh and blood' is used simply to emphasize the mortality of humans. Typical of this usage is Sirach 14:18: "Like flourishing leaves on a spreading tree which sheds some and puts forth others, so are the generations of flesh and blood: one dies and another is born" (cf. also Sirach 17:29-32; Genesis Rabbah 26.6).

More commonly, however, the idiom is used within a comparison (usually an antithesis) between human beings and supernatural beings. Most often (particularly in the rabbinic literature) the comparison is between human beings and God, such as in b. Niddah 31a: "Come and see the contrast between the potency of the Holy One, blessed be He, and that of mortal man [lit. flesh and blood]" (cf. b. Shabbath 30b; 74b; 88b; 152b; b. Berakoth 5a; 10a; 28b; 40a; b. Sanhedrin 89b; 103b; 110a; b. Baba Bathra 10a; 88b; b. Sotah 42a; Genesis Rabbah 1.1; 1.2; 4.4; Leviticus Rabbah 34.14). In a few cases, however, an antithesis is drawn between human beings and angels or spirits (1 Enoch 15:1-4; Testament of Abraham 13 [version 2]; b. Baba Bathra 25a; b. Shabbath 88b; Genesis Rabbah 8.10; 53.2). For example:

“For R. Oshaia said: What is the meaning of the verse, Thou art the Lord, even thou alone; thou hast made heaven, the heaven of heavens, etc.? Thy messengers are not like the messengers of flesh and blood. Messengers of flesh and blood report themselves [after performing their office] to the place from which they have been sent, but thy messengers report themselves to the place to which they are sent, as it says.” (b. Baba Bathra 25a)

In all four cases outside Ephesians 6:12 where this idiom is used in the New Testament, an antithesis between mortal human beings and supernatural beings is implied.

In Matthew 16:17, the antithesis is explicit as Jesus responds to Peter's confession by saying, "For flesh and blood has not revealed this to you, but my Father who is in heaven."

The use of the idiom in Galatians 1:16 is similar. Here, Paul says that after God revealed His Son to him, he did not consult with "flesh and blood" but went away into Arabia. In context, Paul is making the point that he did not receive his gospel "from any man" but "through a revelation of Jesus Christ" (v. 12). Thus, in both of these passages there is a contrast between mortal human beings (denoted by 'flesh and blood') and supernatural beings (the Father and the exalted Christ).

In 1 Corinthians 15:50, in his discourse on resurrection, Paul declares, "I tell you this, brothers: flesh and blood cannot inherit the kingdom of God, nor does the perishable inherit the imperishable." In the context, Paul has been making a contrast between a "natural body" and a "spiritual body." Flesh and blood refers to the natural body, and as Blomberg explains, "'Spiritual' is best taken as 'supernatural,' not 'noncorporeal,' while 'flesh and blood' (not ‘flesh and bones’ as in Luke 24:39) was a Semitic idiom for frail, fallen, mortal humanity.”⁸ (Blomberg 412) Thus, again, a contrast is made between mortal human beings and supernatural beings (in this case, human beings in the resurrected state).

Finally, in Hebrews 2:14, the writer says, "Since therefore the children share in flesh and blood, he himself likewise partook of the same things, that through death he might destroy the one who has the power of death, that is, the devil."⁹ Here, 'flesh and blood' refers to the human nature that Christ shared. There seems to be an implicit emphasis here that Christ did not take on an angelic nature; certainly the context contains antitheses between human beings and angels (Heb. 2:5-9, 16-17). More than one scholar has suggested that Hebrews was written partly to counter an angelomorphic view of Christ.¹⁰
Thus, as used in ancient Jewish literature including the New Testament, the idiom 'flesh and blood' denotes human beings or mortal humanity, as distinguished from supernatural beings.

Against this background, we have a compelling reason to take Ephesians 6:12a in the sense of, "For we do not wrestle against human beings, but..." The Good News Translation's paraphrase gets it right: "For we are not fighting against human beings but against the wicked spiritual forces in the heavenly world, the rulers, authorities, and cosmic powers of this dark age."

Note that in Ephesians 6:12 and in some manuscripts in Hebrews 2:14 the Greek word order is literally 'blood and flesh', but this does not alter the idiomatic sense.¹¹ Arnold suggests, following Percy, that Paul in Ephesians 6:12 reverses the word order of the idiom to reduce the emphasis on 'the flesh' to avoid misleading his readers into thinking he is minimizing the separate theological concept of 'the flesh', which they do need to oppose - cp. Galatians 5:17.)¹²

The Greek word hoti (translated "For" in most English versions) here is also important, because it links v. 12a back to "the schemes of the devil" in the previous verse. The clear implication is that "the devil", like the powers mentioned in v. 12, is not flesh and blood. Ephesians 2:2 describes the devil as "the ruler of the power of the air", spelling out his relation to the powers in 6:12: he is their leader and they are his minions.

In short, in Ephesians 6:11-12 the writer specifically describes the devil and associated powers as not human and, by implication (following the antithesis found elsewhere in usage of the 'flesh and blood' idiom), as supernatural. Put differently, what Paul says the devil and associated powers are not is precisely what Christadelphians say the devil and associated powers are.

Christadelphian Interpretations

How have Christadelphian writers attempted to overcome this difficulty? In some cases, by ignoring it. Christadelphian founder John Thomas remarkably used the word 'flesh' repeatedly to explain what the devil and powers are, apparently seeing no incongruity with the fact that Paul says they are not flesh and blood. He saw the sense of Ephesians 6:12a only as ruling out personal combat.¹³

Watkins follows Thomas' interpretation:

"The fact that this warfare is not a wrestling against flesh and blood is not to be taken as an indication that it involves a celestial host under the leadership of a monstrous spirit creature. The point is, rather, that this is not a physical combat, but a struggle to maintain divine principles in the face of strong opposition from those in authority."¹⁴

This explanation appears plausible in light of 2 Corinthians 10:3-5, where Paul also uses the analogy of combat and where he does emphasize that the combat is not fleshly, i.e. physical. However, Watkins fails to observe that whereas in 2 Corinthians 10:4 it is the weapons that Paul says are "not of the flesh," in Ephesians 6:12 it is the opponents who are said to be not "flesh and blood." Watkins then proceeds to identify the opponents as "those in authority," by which he means human authorities. Thus Thomas and Watkins interpret the opponents to be flesh and blood, which the text explicitly says they are not.

Other writers have ignored the problem altogether. The Christadelphian resource Wrested Scripture, which gives explanations of difficult passages, does not discuss this passage. Burke argues that the "internal spiritual qualities" listed in the armor of God analogy indicate "that the arena of the battle is within;"¹⁵ however he does not acknowledge or attempt to explain the "flesh and blood" language.

Heaster offers a lengthy and elaborate explanation of this passage which includes three distinct interpretations. His first suggested interpretations identifies the opponents as human beings including the Roman and Jewish persecuting authorities, as well as apostate Christians. To get around Ephesians 6:12a he states, "Verse 12 may be translated, 'For we wrestle not only against flesh and blood...' i.e., we do not only wrestle against individual men, but against organized systems."¹⁶ In the first place, the Greek word for "only" (monos) does not occur in the text and it is inexplicable that the writer would omit it. Had the writer intended a "not only ... but" construction, he surely would have used the common "ou monon ... alla" syntax which he used in Ephesians 1:21, rather than the "ouk ... alla" syntax used in 6:12. Furthermore, the contrast between individual men and organized [human] systems fails to account for the 'flesh and blood' idiom, which is nowhere else used to distinguish individuals from groups but rather to distinguish human beings from supernatural beings. And finally, in distinguishing the "rulers" and "authorities" (political) from the "spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places" (apostate Christians), Heaster fails to account for the fact that in Ephesians 3:10 the rulers and authorities are located "in the heavenly places."

Further along, Heaster allows that Ephesians 6:12 may refer to angels, such as the angel of death or the "evil angels" of Psalm 78:49. He thus allows that "It could be possible to interpret the heavenly hosts of spirits [Angels] responsible for the situation on earth experienced by the believers."¹⁷ (The view that the powers are angels was apparently shared by at least one other Christadelphian writer, Whittaker).¹⁸ In this respect, he notes "that they wrestled pros these forces- and pros doesn't necessarily mean "against", but can carry the sense of 'alongside', 'relating to'." This would reduce the wrestling imagery to an absurdity, since one does not wrestle 'alongside' or 'in relation to' another but 'against' another. Furthermore, consistency would dictate that we apply the same sense of pros in the previous verse, which would then be exhorting the readers to "stand alongside the schemes of the devil"!

Heaster has made progress with this interpretation inasmuch as he has acknowledged that the powers referred to in Ephesians 6:12 are supernatural. However, it can only be due to theological bias that he has excluded the possibility that these beings might be sinful. They are linked by the word hoti to the devil of the previous verse, who is obviously a wicked power (as the lexical sense of diabolos, 'slanderer', implies). Furthermore, elsewhere in Paul's writings he uses the imagery of a Roman triumph to describe Christ putting the rulers and authorities to shame (Colossians 2:15). They, like the devil, are obviously enemies against whom the believers are to make spiritual war.

Finally, Heaster proposes a third possible interpretation, which he quotes at length from Pitt-Francis.¹⁹ This posits that the last two types of opponent mentioned in v. 12 refer in an ironic sense to the sun, moon and stars which were objects of idolatrous worship. Pitt-Francis does not marshal anything like a convincing case for taking these phrases as references to these heavenly bodies. Moreover, inasmuch as he still takes the first two types of opponents ("rulers" and "authorities") as referring to earthly kings, his interpretation too contradicts the writer's statement that the opponents are not flesh and blood.

Some Christadelphians have been more forthright in acknowledging the difficulties that Ephesians 6:11-12 presents for their position. In a passage of his book Christadelphian Redivivus quoted in the Christadelphian periodical Endeavour, George McHaffie writes:

"‘With regard to the Devil, our [Christadelphian] contention that the Bible teaches this to be flesh or human nature ‘in its various manifestations’ will simply not match up to Eph. 6:11,12 : “..stand against the wiles of the devil. For we wrestle not against flesh and blood..but ...spiritual wickedness in high places.” The repeated references to the devil, the power of demons, and their being exorcised without any statement that there is no devil, or even an ‘as is supposed’ in reference to a demon, would carry conviction to most people that the Bible writers believed in the devil and demons."²⁰

McHaffie's solution was that of many modern theologians: the devil's existence is to be denied on hermeneutical rather than exegetical grounds. In other words, the biblical writers believed in the devil, but incorrectly so; we are at liberty to re-conceptualize the devil for our own time. This view entails a challenge to the biblical inerrancy espoused in the foundational proposition of the Christadelphian Statement of Faith and so would not be acceptable to many Christadelphians. Nevertheless, McHaffie had the courage to admit that it is impossible to reconcile Ephesians 6:11-12 with the Christadelphian view of the devil.

Scholarly Interpretations

Moving from Christadelphian interpretation to mainstream biblical scholarship, one finds that a few scholars such as Forbes and Carr have argued that the writer of Ephesians did not view 'the powers' as supernatural, evil, personal beings²¹ (note that the Pauline authorship of Ephesians is disputed). However, these scholars still affirm that the writer of Ephesians understood the devil to be a supernatural personal being. In Carr's case he further acknowledges that his interpretation of the powers does not square with Ephesians 6:12 and so is forced to assert (without a shred of textual evidence) that this verse was not part of the original text but was a later interpolation. This view has been ably refuted by Arnold.²²

The consensus that Paul believed in supernatural evil beings has grown with two recent studies by Williams²³ and Becker.²⁴ With regard to Ephesians specifically, scholarly commentaries have consistently upheld a supernatural interpretation of the devil and the powers.²⁵

Conclusion

Ephesians 6:11-12 unambiguously affirms that the devil and associated evil powers are not human whereas the Christadelphian view of the devil affirms the opposite. Some Christadelphian writers have acknowledged that this text demands an angelic interpretation of the powers but have failed to follow through on the theological implications, since these powers are clearly evil and linked to the devil himself. At least one Christadelphian writer has admitted that this passage refers to a personal devil and argues that this devil's existence must be denied on grounds other than the biblical testimony.
If only Christadelphians would shed their outdated perceptions about how other Christians understand the biblical devil (i.e. not a red, pitchfork-wielding fellow) and read careful, biblically based treatments of the subject! Doing so might lead to the realization that there are intellectually responsible ways to affirm biblical teaching on supernatural evil and that there is consequently no need to stretch and strain the meaning of biblical passages on this subject.

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1 Roberts, R. (1884). Christendom Astray (1969 edition). Birmingham: The Christadelphian, p. 118.^↩
2 Pearce, F. (1986). Do you believe in the Devil? Birmingham: The Christadelphian. Retrieved from http://www.christadelphia.org/pamphlet/devil.htm ^↩
3 Watkins, P. (1971). The Devil – the Great Deceiver: Bible Teaching on Sin and Salvation (2008 edition). Birmingham: The Christadelphian, p. 32.^↩
4 Watkins, P. op. cit., p. 54.^↩
5 These can be found at http://www.dianoigo.com/publications.html#satan^↩
6 Grintz, J.M. (1960). Hebrew as the Spoken and Written Language in the Last Days of the Second Temple. Journal of Biblical Literature 79(1), p. 36.^↩
7 Evans, C.A. (2012). Matthew. Cambridge University Press, p. 313.^↩
8 Blomberg, C.L. (2009). Jesus and the Gospels: An Introduction and Survey. B&H Publishing Group, p. 412.^↩
9 For a detailed discussion of this passage and its reference to the devil, see Farrar, T.J. (2014). The Devil in the General Epistles, Part 1: Hebrews. Retrieved from http://www.dianoigo.com/publications/The_Devil_in_the_General_Epistles_Part_1_Hebrews.pdf, pp. 7-17.^↩
10 Goulder, M. (2003). Hebrews and the Ebionites. New Testament Studies 49(3): 393-406; Steyn, G.J. (2003). Addressing an angelomorphic christological myth in Hebrews? HTS Theological Studies 59(4): 1107-1128. Christadelphian writer Robert Roberts also recognized the antithesis between 'flesh and blood' in Hebrews 2:14 and 'the nature of angels' in Hebrews 2:16 (KJV). Roberts, R. op. cit., p. 117.^↩
11 Hoehner, H. (2002). Ephesians: An Exegetical Commentary. Baker Academic, p. 824.^↩
12 Arnold, C.E. (1989). Ephesians, Power and Magic: The Concept of Power in Ephesians in Light of Its Historical Setting. Cambridge University Press, p. 205 n. 52.^↩
13 Thomas, J. (1866). Elpis Israel (4th ed., 2000). Logos Publications, pp. 99-100.^↩
14 Watkins, P. op. cit., p. 40.^↩
15 Burke, J. (2007). Satan and Demons: A Reply to Anthony Buzzard. Retrieved from http://www.dianoigo.com/writings_by_others/Satan_And_Demons.pdf, p. 32.^↩
16 Heaster, D. (2012). The Real Devil (3rd ed.). Carelinks Publishing, p. 448.^↩
17 Heaster, D. op. cit., p. 452.^↩
18 Whittaker, H. (1987). Bible Studies: An Anthology. Biblia, pp. 375-382. Cited in Cox, T. (2012). An Inquiry into the Origins of the ‘Internal Devil’ Dogma. Endeavour 128 (December 2012), p. 6.^↩
19 Pitt-Francis, D. (1984). The Most Amazing Message Ever Written. Mark Saunders Books, chapter 4. Cited in Heaster. D. op. cit., pp. 453-455.^↩
20 McHaffie, G. (1999). Christadelphian Redivivus. Published by R. McHaffie, pp. 26-27. Cited in Cox, T. (2013). ‘The Serpent in the Garden of Eden’ – A Response to Roy Boyd’s article. Endeavour 130 (December 2013), p. 25.^↩
21 Carr, W. (2005). Angels and Principalities: The Background, Meaning and Development of the Pauline Phrase Hai Archai Kai Hai Exousiai, pp. 101-106; Cambridge University Press; Forbes, C. (2001). Paul's Principalities and Powers: Demythologizing Apocalyptic? Journal for the Study of the New Testament 23(82), pp. 62-68; Forbes, C. (2002). Pauline demonology and/or cosmology? Principalities, powers and the elements of the world in their hellenistic context. Journal for the Study of the New Testament 24(3): 51-73.^↩
22 Arnold, C. E. (1987). The Exorcism of Ephesians 6.12 in Recent Research: A Critique of Wesley Carr's View of the Role of Evil Powers in First-Century AD Belief. Journal for the Study of the New Testament (30): 71-87.^↩
23 Williams, G. (2009). The Spirit World in the Letters of Paul the Apostle: A Critical Examination of the Role of Spiritual Beings in the Authentic Pauline Epistles. Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht^↩
24 Becker, M. (2013). Paul and the Evil One. In E. Koskenniemi & I. Frohlich (Eds.), Evil and the Devil (127-141). T&T Clark.^↩
25 Schnackenburg, R. (2001). Epistle to the Ephesians: A Commentary. A&C Black, p. 268; Hoehner, H. op. cit., pp. 824-825; MacDonald, M.Y. (2008). Colossians and Ephesians. Liturgical Press, p. 225; Arnold, C.E. (2011). Ephesians. Zondervan, p. 132; Kitchen, M. (2013). Ephesians. Routledge, p. 115.^↩