Justin Martyr and the 'Man of Men' Christology (Part 1)

In my previous post, I offered some comments on a talk given by Christadelphian apologist Dave Burke on the subject of second century Gentile Christianity. On the positive side, it is encouraging that Dave implicitly recognizes the importance of second century Christian writings for correctly understanding the beliefs and practices of the early church. On the negative side, Dave tends to view the second century church through Christadelphian lenses which sometimes clouds his reading of the sources. Justin Martyr’s reference to those who held a ‘man of men’ Christology is a case in point.

Dave notes that (wrongly, in his view) Justin himself believed in the pre-existence and ontological divinity of Christ. He then describes Justin's views on others who do not share these doctrines with him:

"He says that he knows other Christians who do not believe that Jesus pre-existed as a divine being who believed that Jesus was a literal flesh and blood mortal human being, and that he only became immortal when he was resurrected, and he acknowledges these other Christians, and he still accepts them as Christians, and crucially, he admits that theirs is the older belief, which is very interesting."¹

Dave is obviously taking his cues here from Justin’s Dialogue with Trypho 48.4. However, his description of Justin’s views is unfortunately a combination of misrepresentation and partial disclosure. Over the next three posts my aim is to provide some commentary that will hopefully enable the reader to better understand this passage.

The relevant text reads as follows in the 19^th century Roberts-Donaldson translation:

"Now assuredly, Trypho," I continued," [the proof] that this man is the Christ of God does not fail, though I be unable to prove that He existed formerly as Son of the Maker of all things, being God, and was born a man by the Virgin. 3 But since I have certainly proved that this man is the Christ of God, whoever He be, even if I do not prove that He pre-existed, and submitted to be born a man of like passions with us, having a body, according to the Father's will; in this last matter alone is it just to say that I have erred, and not to deny that He is the Christ, though it should appear that He was born man of men, and [nothing more] is proved [than this], that He has become Christ by election. 4 For there are some, my friends," I said, "of our² race, who admit that He is Christ, while holding Him to be man of men; with whom I do not agree, nor would I, even though most of those who have [now] the same opinions as myself should say so; since we were enjoined by Christ Himself to put no faith in human doctrines, but in those proclaimed by the blessed prophets and taught by Himself." (Dialogue 48.2-4)

This text, together with Dave’s description of it, raises three important questions which I plan to address below and in two subsequent posts.

1)      What was the ‘man of men’ Christology Justin referred to in Dialogue 48.4?

2)      Did Justin accept those who held the ‘man of men’ Christology as Christians?

3)      How did Justin view the age and popularity of the ‘man of men’ Christology relative to his own Christology?

Let us begin with the first question, which is the easiest to answer. What was the Christology to which Justin referred and with which he disagreed? Justin says that there were some who admitted that Jesus was the Christ, while holding him to be a “man of men.” This stands in contrast to Justin’s own view, that Christ pre-existed and was born a man by the virgin. As the term ‘man of men’ implies, those who held this view denied the virgin birth, as well as the pre-existence. Now Dave neglects to mention that ‘man of men’ refers to a man born of human parentage, i.e. without a virgin birth. Instead, he takes ‘man of men’ to mean “that Jesus was a literal flesh and blood mortal human being.”

This interpretation cannot be sustained. In the first place, Justin himself affirmed that Jesus was a literal flesh and blood mortal human being. This can be seen within the immediate context, in which Justin refers to Jesus as “a man of like passions with us, having a body.” Trypho too had just acknowledged that Justin believed that Christ “submitted to be born and become man, yet that He is not man of man” (Dialogue 48.1). In several other places in the Dialogue Justin affirms Jesus’ humanity in robust terms (Dialogue 57.3; 67.6; 70.4; 98.1; 99.2; 100.2-3; 103.8; 110.2). In another of his writings, Justin explicitly repudiates a Docetic view of Christ:

“And there are some who maintain that even Jesus Himself appeared only as spiritual, and not in flesh, but presented merely the appearance of flesh: these persons seek to rob the flesh of the promise.” (On the Resurrection 2)

Obviously ‘man of men’ cannot refer to a Christology with which Justin himself agrees; thus Dave’s interpretation of this term is clearly incorrect. In Dialogue 54.2 Justin makes it clear what he means by the term ‘man of men’: “But this prophecy, sirs, which I repeated, proves that Christ is not man of men, begotten in the ordinary course of humanity.” Again, in Dialogue 67.2 and 76.1-2, the phrase ‘man of men’ is contrasted specifically with the idea of virgin birth or supernatural origin.

We can thus state conclusively that the doctrine that Christ was a ‘man of men’ does not refer to his literal, flesh and blood, mortal humanity (something Justin himself affirmed). Instead, it refers specifically to the view that Jesus was conceived in the usual way by the sexual union of two human parents, in contrast to Justin’s belief in the virgin birth. Denial of Christ’s pre-existence is an obvious corollary, but the immediate sense of ‘man of men’ is a repudiation of the doctrine of the virgin birth.

The way Dave described this text in his talk, the listener gets the impression that Justin is drawing a contrast between his own Docetic pre-existence Christology and a Christology which would be acceptable to Christadelphians. In fact, the listener would be mistaken on both counts. Justin was not a Docetist, and the ‘man of men’ Christology is not compatible with that of Christadelphians. Article 3 of the Birmingham Amended Statement of Faith states that Jesus was “begotten of the Virgin Mary by the Holy Spirit, without the intervention of man”³ while Article 28 of the Doctrines to be Rejected declares, “We reject the doctrine – that Joseph was the actual father of Jesus.”⁴

Hence, Dialogue 48.4 can only be construed as a contrast between two Christologies which are both regarded by Christadelphians as heretical.

There is no hint anywhere in the Dialogue of a Christology which (like Christadelphians) affirms the virgin birth but denies the pre-existence and incarnation. Indeed, throughout the Dialogue, it is virtually assumed that the pre-existence and virgin birth are inextricably linked. Trypho does not seem to find the virgin birth any easier to accept than the pre-existence. He regards the virgin birth as a “monstrous phenomenon” comparable to the foolish talk of the Greeks (Dialogue 67.2). He also appears to concede that the idea of pre-existent divinity links logically into the idea of virgin birth (Dialogue 50.1; 57.3; 63.1). For Justin's part, he repeatedly refers to the two ideas together in a way that shows they are inseparable in his mind (Dialogue 45.4; 48.2; 75.4; 84.1-2; 85.2; 87.2; 100.2-4; 105.1; 113.4; 127.4).

To summarize, Dave has unfortunately left his audience with an exaggerated sense of the significance of this text for Christadelphian apologetics. Justin’s extant writings do not in fact contain any evidence that a Christology compatible with that of Christadelphians existed in his day.

In the next post we will look at a trickier question: how Justin viewed those who held the 'man of men' Christology.

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1 Burke, D. (Producer). (2014). Servants of the Lord NSW 2014, Session 8 [Audio podcast]. Retrieved from http://www.milktomeat.org.^↩
2 Or, ‘your race’ (see discussion in following post).^↩
3 The Christadelphian Statement of Faith. Retrieved from http://christadelphia.org/basf.htm.^↩
4 Doctrines to be Rejected. Retrieved from http://christadelphia.org/reject.htm.^↩

Greek philosophy and early Gentile Christianity

I have been listening to some teaching material delivered recently by Christadelphian teacher Dave Burke, apparently at a series of youth weekends in Australia and subsequently posted to his blog. One of my reasons for listening was that Dave and I have interacted for years over the internet on discussion forums and more recently on Facebook, but have never met face to face. Unfortunately we have disagreed more often than we have agreed. One of my personal goals is to behave more nobly in religious dialogue, even when there is disagreement, and particularly when the dialogue takes place on the Internet. It helps when one is able to perceive his dialogue partner as a real human being as opposed to a cyber-theologian. Listening to Dave's disarming Aussie accent and dry sense of humour certainly helped in this regard.

From what I've heard so far, the series of talks Dave delivered entitled, The Servants of the Lord was very impressive. In what amounted to an introduction to biblical scholarship, the sheer volume of material that Dave has able to cover is staggering. I doubt there are many attendees of Christian youth camps who walk away so well equipped with background and tools for biblical exegesis.

Taken in the context of that overall assessment, I hope Dave won't mind if I offer some criticism. When it comes to his comments on early Gentile Christianity, and Justin Martyr in particular, his tendency to view church history through a Christadelphian lens clouds the facts.

Gentile Christianity

In a subsection of his series entitled 'Gentile Christianity', Dave gives following account:

We're going to move into the second century now. The second century takes us into the realm of Gentile Christianity. After the fall of Jerusalem and the destruction of the temple, the Jews dispersed far and wide and so did the Christians. And Christianity had already spread into Gentile lands by the 50s and 60s, but now Christians who originally had been quite happy to remain in places like Jerusalem were forced out and had to go much further afield. Some of them went to Antioch, a lot of them went even further. And this actually had the effect of spreading the Christian message to places which had not heard it before. But unfortunately it also had a side effect and this was that increasingly now there were more Gentile converts than Jewish converts. Jerusalem was no longer the headquarters, the nexus, of the Christian community. The Spirit-guided leadership which they had once relied on had passed away for the most part. And now Christians were finding that as Gentiles were converted, they brought their own worldview, some of their own preconceptions and assumptions and philosophies and theologies with them. And they didn't always leave those ideas behind. Some of them sought to amalgamate Christianity with their pre-existing ideas.¹

Now, it may be that Dave just made a poor choice of words here. However, as it stands, he has described the fact that Gentile converts came to outnumber Jewish converts in the early second century as an unfortunate side effect of the dispersion of Christians throughout the Empire!

When Jesus commanded his disciples, "Therefore go and make disciples of all nations" (Matthew 28:19; cf. Acts 13:47), did he envisage Jewish disciples remaining in the majority? Given that Gentiles outnumbered Jews by about 9 to 1 in the first century Roman Empire,² would it not be a natural and desirable consequence of the Great Commission for Gentile converts to outnumber Jewish converts?

When Jerusalem ceased to be the headquarters of the church, and Christians were dispersed throughout the Empire following the destruction of the temple, was this 'unfortunate' from a divine point of view? How could it be, when this dispersion of Christians had the effect of advancing the gospel to a great number of Gentiles (as in Acts 11:19-21)? Note also that the Lord Jesus himself had foretold the destruction of the temple as an act of divine judgment (Matthew 23:34-24:2). Yes, in one sense it was unfortunate inasmuch as judgment brings sorrow to God (Ezekiel 33:11), but was it not also part of God's plan for the growth of the church which was itself God's temple (2 Corinthians 6:16)?

Dave paints a very bleak picture of the early second century church. We won't contend in detail here with his assumption that the leadership of the church was no longer Spirit-guided; but if true, this cessation of Spirit activity must have been God's will. Thus, the set of circumstances in which the church found itself in the early second century (no more temple; dispersion leading to many Gentile conversions; [allegedly] no Spirit guidance) can all be linked back to the will of God. Bear in mind as well that Jesus himself had promised to be personally present in the church's growth until the end of the age (Matthew 28:20). In what sense then can these developments be deemed 'unfortunate' for the church? And what does Dave think ought to have happened?

Dave highlights that Gentile converts brought their own ideas with them when they came to Christianity, which replaced the Jewish worldview that had previously dominated the church:

as we go through the second century A.D., we will see Gentiles misinterpreting Scripture because of the preconceptions they bring to it, and their failure to understand the cultural and historical context of these writings.³

Now Dave is able to produce some excellent second-century examples in which the confluence of Greek ideas and a low view of the Old Testament (and, in particular, its God) did result in apostasy, such as Marcion and Valentinus. However, he doesn't seem to see much of a qualitative difference between these writings and others such as the Epistle of Barnabas and the works of Justin Martyr. These latter writings are critical of Judaism but show great valuation and esteem for the Old Testament and familiarity with Jewish methods of exegesis.

The Epistle of Barnabas

There is no disputing that the Epistle of Barnabas contains some strange ideas, particularly concerning the Law of Moses and the covenant with the Jews. However, these are not necessarily the result of Gentile failure to interpret Jewish texts. In fact, Paget, arguably the pre-eminent scholarly authority on this document in our generation, emphasizes the "Jewish character" of the work and describes it as a "Jewish-Christian epistle."⁴ Paget regards it as unclear whether the author was a Jew or a Gentile (leaning guardedly toward the Gentile view), but emphasizes the author's "knowledge and use of Jewish exegetical methods."⁵

Dave takes issue with the Epistle of Barnabas' Christological interpretation of Genesis 1:26 (Barnabas 5:5), pointing out that such an interpretation has no precedent in Judaism and is also not regarded as plausible by modern scholars. However, this is again not simply a case of Gentiles misunderstanding a Jewish text, but of the early church reading Scripture Christologically; a hermeneutic also found in the New Testament. There are numerous Old Testament texts which the New Testament writers interpreted Christologically in a way unprecedented in ancient Judaism and which modern critical scholarship does not regard as the original meaning of the text (e.g. Isaiah 7:14, Hosea 11:1 or Psalm 102:25-27). Arguably in Barnabas 5:5 a similar Jewish hermeneutic is at work. While Paul does not go as far as the Epistle of Barnabas and suggest that God's words in Genesis were originally spoken to Christ, he does use "christocentric language reminiscent of Genesis 1:26-27" in Romans 8:29.^{6 7} It is thus not as non-Jewish as Dave might think for the writer of the Epistle of Barnabas to see a Christological sensus plenior in Genesis 1:26-27.

With regard to the issue of authorship of this work, Dave rightly notes that no scholars today attribute the Epistle of Barnabas to Paul's companion of that name. Dave cynically states that it got its name because that is what people did in those days when they wanted to gain credibility for something they had written five minutes earlier. However, the body of the Epistle of Barnabas nowhere mentions Barnabas by name. Some scholars have suggested that the ascription to Barnabas was secondary, i.e. not something the author himself claimed.⁸ Thus, this is not necessarily a pseudonymous work.⁹

It should be added that an unfortunate feature of Dave's dialogue at this point is his disregard of the later church consensus regarding which writings from this period were good and which were bad. He moves through Marcion, the Epistle of Barnabas, Valentinus and Justin Martyr. Further along, Dave refers to the Shepherd of Hermas and 2 Clement in a list of no particular order which also includes the Gospel of the Egyptians and the Gospel of Basilides. While Dave does emphasize that Marcion was rejected by the church, he does not for the most part distinguish between those writings which were rejected as Gnostic heresy (e.g. Gospel of the Egyptians, Gospel of Basilides) and those which ultimately gained acceptance among the 'Apostolic Fathers' (Epistle of Barnabas, Shepherd of Hermas, 2 Clement). Dave appears to paint most of these writings with the same brush (i.e. as reflecting the corruption of the church by Gentile thought), without exploring the reasons why some came to be accepted by the church and others came to be rejected.

Justin Martyr the Philosopher

Commenting on Justin's background in Greek philosophy, Dave comments:

Justin Martyr, however, brought his pagan Greek preconceptions and philosophical preconceptions to the gospel message, and when he read the New Testament he interpreted it through a pagan Hellenic filter.¹⁰

He goes on to criticize Justin for retaining his philosopher's robe after converting to Christianity:

Justin continued to wear his philosopher's robe even after converting Christianity. This is a huge contrast to the men of Ephesus, who when they were converted, scooped up all their magical and philosophical scrolls and burned them, and put that behind them. But Justin Martyr retained many of his former ideas, and he still considered himself a philosopher, and he considered Christianity the highest form of philosophy.¹¹

In the first place, the passage about the men of Ephesus to which Dave is referring (Acts 19:18-19) makes no mention of philosophical writings but only of magical writings. Indeed, the whole pericope has nothing at all to do with philosophy. And when Paul does interact with Greek philosophers (Acts 17:16-34), he engages them on their own terms, even quoting from their writings. As Sterling explains, the author of Acts

sets the scene for Paul’s Aereopagetica by presenting him in debate with certain Epicurean and Stoic philosophers who charge the Christian missionary with the crime for which Socrates was executed (Acts 17:18, 20; Xenophon, Mem. 1:1:1; cf. also Justin Martyr, 1 Apol. 5:3; 2 Apol. 10:5). This is not the first time in Acts that a disciple or group of disciples appears in a role reminiscent of Socrates (cf. Acts 4:19; 5:29; and Plato, Apol. 29d). The speech which follows is an argument that Greek philosophy is a forerunner to Christianity. The author even cites a line from Aratus of Soli who learned his Stoicism from Zeno, the founder of the Stoa (Acts 17:28; Aratus, Phaen. 5).¹²

The use of Hellenistic philosophy was not an innovation of second century Gentile Christianity. To the contrary, it can be found in pre-Christian Jewish writings, and there are also elements of it in the New Testament (as we saw in Acts 17). So Sterling tells us, "Jewish authors such as Aristobulus, the author of the Wisdom of Solomon, and Philo used Hellenistic philosophy to restate their own understandings of the divine"¹³ and, "For those who attempt to bring the human experience of God to articulation through critical reflection, philosophy is a natural resource; at least a number of New Testament writers thought so."¹⁴ There appear to have been different views in the early church concerning Greek philosophy. For instance, Tertullian in the Latin West did not regard Greek philosophy as being of any use to the church (De praescriptione haereticorum, ch. 7).

As to Justin Martyr himself, while he obviously knew and used Hellenistic philosophy, the way he used it was not as simple as combining Hellenistic philosophical preconceptions with Christianity:

While it is true that he grants a certain legitimacy to some of the opinions of the philosophers, it would be wrong to assume that Justin’s main intention is to reconcile Christianity to Greek philosophy...On the contrary, the similarities Justin enumerates clearly are intended to prove the superiority of Christianity.¹⁵

Justin's appeal to philosophical sources can be explained as a rhetorical device, like Paul's in Athens.

Both Apologies and Dialogue operate on a common strategy, of justifying Christianity by appealing to texts, Jewish or Gentile, which the intended reader will grant to carry authority.¹⁶

The idea that Justin interpreted the New Testament through a pagan Hellenic filter is even less credible. Dave here fails to recognize the very low esteem Justin had for pagan religion:

Notoriously, Justin’s thrust is directed towards splitting apart religion and philosophy. Towards pagan cult and myth he is vehemently negative: They are crude, superstitious, and immoral both in content and in practical influence.¹⁷

We should also be wary of exaggerating the influence that philosophy had on Justin's theology. For instance, in Edwards' study of the background to Justin's Logos concept, he argues that Justin's notion of the Logos is rooted in the biblical tradition and not in Stoic or Platonic philosophy as earlier scholars had generally supposed.¹⁸ In a similar vein, Price writes,

The easy and frequent use of "Logos" as a title of the Son came to Justin not from Greek philosophy but from the constant mention of the "word of God" in the Old Testament, as transmitted to him in the Greek of the Septuagint and developed by such Jewish biblical commentators as Philo.¹⁹

Furthermore, before censuring Justin for trying to develop a synthesis between Christian and Greek philosophy, Dave needs to ask himself whether he does not, in effect, do the same. A recent article in a publication edited by Dave, commenting on the difficulties that the fossil record presents for a traditional interpretation of early Genesis, expresses the need for "a resolution to this problem that respects both the scientific and Biblical evidence."²⁰ In other words, the writer advocates seeking a synthesis between Scripture and modern science. Indeed, physical sciences aside, the exegetical methods which are used by scholars today in their study of Scripture are fundamentally scientific. Now, "the English word 'science' refers to a practice that to a large extent can be traced back to the early Greek philosophers."²¹ It was by "revitalizing Greek thought" that medieval philosophers were able to set in motion forces that would ultimately overturn the medieval worldview and create modern Western thought.²²

Similarly, Christadelphian apologists like Dave are well known for use of logical arguments in the form of syllogisms in theological deliberations. Whom do they have to thank for this? "The first explicit theory of propositional connectives was developed by a collection of thinkers known as the Stoics" and "The Stoic definition of argument is strikingly modern."²³

So Dave faults Justin for practicing Greek philosophy while he himself is quite content to appeal to modern science and logic, both of which have Greek philosophy as their ancestor. The major difference between Justin and ourselves is that human knowledge is far more advanced today than it was in the second century. But to fault Justin on this basis amounts to mere chronocentrism. In fact, those of us who value the role of science and logic in the church today should probably be grateful that Justin and other early Christian intellectuals didn't burn their philosophy books as Dave implies they should have done.

In summary, Dave's criticism of Justin Martyr for using Hellenistic philosophy is unfair on three counts: (1) this was not an innovation of second-century Gentile Christianity; instead he was following precedents set by pre-Christian Hellenistic Jews and, at least to some extent, the New Testament writers. (2) The idea that Justin interpreted the New Testament through a pagan Hellenic filter not only exaggerates the influence of Greek philosophy on his theology, but also ignores Justin's very negative view of paganism. (3) Justin Martyr's attempt at a synthesis of Christian beliefs with Greek philosophy is not fundamentally different from contemporary attempts at a synthesis of Christian beliefs with modern science and logic - methodologies which themselves developed from Greek philosophy and which Dave endorses and uses.

In a follow-up post we will look more specifically at Dave's claims regarding Justin Martyr's theological positions.

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1 Burke, D. (Producer). (2014). Servants of the Lord NSW 2014, Session 8 [Audio podcast]. Retrieved from http://www.milktomeat.org. Emphasis added.^↩
2 Pasachoff, N.E. and Littman, R.J. (2005). A Concise History of the Jewish People. Rowman & Littlefield, p. 120.^↩
3 Burke, op. cit.^↩
4 Paget, J.C. (1996). Paul and the Epistle of Barnabas. Novum Testamentum 38(4): 359-381. pp. 378-379.^↩
5 Paget, J.C. (2006). The Epistle of Barnabas. Expository Times 117(11): 441-446. p. 442.^↩
6 Grenz, S.J. (2006). The Social God and the Relational Self: Toward a Theology of the Imago Dei in the Postmodern Context. In R. Lints et al (Eds.), Personal Identity in Theological Perspective (70-94). Eerdmans, p. 82.^↩
7 See also Beale, G.K. (2007). Colossians. In G.K. Beale & D.A. Carson (Eds.), Commentary on the New Testament use of the Old Testament (841-919). Baker Academic, p. 852)^↩
8 Paget, J.C. (1994). The Epistle of Barnabas: Outlook and Background. Mohr Siebeck, p. 7.^↩
9 The same is true of 2 Clement. This work does not claim to have been written by Clement (in fact, neither does 1 Clement). Far from being a pseudepigraph, Tuckett suggests that the anonymity of 2 Clement's author is "a reflection perhaps of his somewhat self-effacing modesty" (Tuckett, C. (2012). 2 Clement: Introduction, Text, and Commentary. Oxford University Press, p. 17.)^↩
10 Burke, op. cit.^↩
11 Burke, op. cit.^↩
12 Sterling, G.E. (1997). Hellenistic Philosophy and the New Testament. In S.E. Porter (Ed.), A Handbook to the Exegesis of the New Testament. BRILL, p. 313, emphasis added.^↩
13 Sterling, op. cit., p. 314.^↩
14 Sterling, op. cit., p. 342.^↩
15 Droge, A.J. (1987). Justin Martyr and the Restoration of Philosophy. Church History 56(3): 303-319. pp. 306-307.^↩
16 Chadwick, H. (1993). The Gospel a Republication of Natural Religion in Justin Martyr. Illinois Classical Studies 18: 237-247. p. 247.^↩
17 Chadwick, op. cit., p. 238.^↩
18 Edwards, M.J. (1995). Justin's Logos and the Word of God. Journal of Early Christian Studies 3(3): 261-280. p. 261.^↩
19 Price, R.M. (1988). 'Hellenization' and Logos Doctrine in Justin Martyr. Vigiliae Christianae 42(1): 18-23. p. 20.^↩
20 Gilmore, K. (2014). The Bible is not a science textbook. Defence and Confirmation, Vol. 1. Retrieved from https://app.box.com/s/9ym4rw6c2le092pco7u0. p. 16.^↩
21 Preus, A. (2007). Historical Dictionary of Ancient Greek Philosophy. Scarecrow Press, p. 233.^↩
22 Perry, M. et al. (2012). Western Civilization: Ideas, Politics, and Society, Volume I: To 1789. Cengage Learning, p. 260.^↩
23 Bonevac, D. and Dever, J. (2012). A Short History of the Connectives. In D.M. Gabbay, F.J. Pelletier and J. Woods (Eds)., Logic: A History of its Central Concepts (175-234). Newnes, p. 177.^↩

"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.^↩

Christmas in July: Where did this holiday come from, and should it be celebrated?

For many Christians, Christmas is the highlight of the liturgical calendar. Indeed, for some nominal Christians it is practically the only event in the liturgical calendar. Other Christians, however, reject this holiday in view of its lack of biblical warrant, alleged pagan roots, or contemporary commercialization. How did Christmas come about, and should it be observed today?

By 336 A.D., Christmas, held on December 25, marked the beginning of the festal year in Rome.¹It is difficult to determine how much earlier than this the observance originated, with most scholars opting for a date in the late third century or early fourth century. A couple of earlier Christian writers speculated about the date of Christ's birth but gave no indication of a festival associated with it. In fact, the early third century Christian writer Origen decried the practice of celebrating birthdays and observed that it was something that sinners, not saints, got involved with.

“The whole discussion communicates a general attitude held by some early Christians that birthdays were something only ‘pagans’ (non-Christians) celebrated, not good Christians.”²

What can be said with certainty is that there was no observance of Christmas in the apostolic age or for several generations thereafter. This absence is important for anyone with a restorationist vision of Christianity:

“Restorationism, or Christian primitivism, is an ideology that identifies early Christianity (variously defined) as the timeless norm for Christian doctrine and practice. Restorationism’s adherents seek to replicate this normative ‘early Christianity’ in their own times.”³

For anyone who views the doctrine and practice of the apostolic age as normative to the exclusion of later developments in the patristic church, Christmas will likely appear as an unwelcome innovation. This probably explains, at least in part, why some restorationist groups either reject Christmas (e.g. Jehovah's Witnesses) or view it with some ambivalence (Christadelphians).

Does Christmas have pagan roots? There are two main hypotheses concerning how December 25 came to be the date on which Christ's birthday was celebrated: the History of Religions hypothesis and the Calculation hypothesis.⁴ The History of Religions hypothesis posits that Christians of the early fourth century, with their new-found legal backing under Constantine, hijacked an existing pagan holiday known as Natalis Solis Invicti. This holiday was a commemoration of the unconquered sun-god which coincided with the winter solstice. With biblical backing for the use of sun imagery in relation to Christ (Malachi 4:2), and a festal vacuum left by the increasing conversion of pagans to Christianity, it is argued that Christians appropriated Natalis Solis Invicti to mark Christ's birth.

The Calculation hypothesis holds that early Christians held a highly symbolic view of time in which God only worked in whole numbers and not fractions. Persons regarded as great in God's eyes would die on the same day as they were born. Christ was regarded to have died on March 25, based on calculations between the Jewish and Julian calendars. Thus his conception (i.e. the Annunciation, regarded as more theologically significant than his actual birth) was also dated to March 25, from which it was inferred that he was born on December 25.

These two hypotheses are not mutually exclusive,⁵ so the symbolic calculations may have provided the impetus for the Christian takeover of Natalis Solis Invicti. Importantly, neither one lends any credibility to the view that Christ was actually born on December 25, which must be regarded as extremely unlikely. If the History of Religions hypothesis is correct, then Christmas does indeed have its roots in paganism. However, it represents a reaction against paganism. While it may also suggest a willingness to accommodate former pagans, this is not necessarily a bad thing, as “the early Christians had little choice but to adapt to the surrounding Hellenized-Roman culture if they had any pretensions to universality.”⁶

Neither of these hypotheses fully explains why the church began to celebrate Christmas. It is unlikely that the need to replace former pagan holidays in the calendar with some Christian analogue can entirely account for the invention of Christmas. Some scholars have tentatively suggested that the Arian controversy played a role in the spread of Christmas observance. Since Arians placed less emphasis on the incarnation than proponents of Nicene orthodoxy, Christmas may have been promoted in line with anti-Arian polemic.⁷. Kochenash has argued in an unpublished work that the origin of Christmas coincided with the development of a belief that certain spaces and times were inherently sacred, which had not been part of Christian belief in prior centuries in which house churches were the main place of worship.⁸

What is the significance of Christmas today? From a secular standpoint it has been heavily commercialized:

“The massive production, advertising and marketing essential to the stability and health of the retail sector of the economy in developed countries serves as the secular form of the feast, the content of which derives not only from the incarnation in the salvation history of Christian belief, but even beyond Christianity in a complex of folklore, custom, art, familial bonding, common values and personal and collective memories. The Gospel story of the birth of Christ secures the base, the original core, sometimes amounting to only a barely-detectible pretext, for the feast in its contemporary manifestation; yet the story is not in itself determinative of what Christmas is.”⁹

Forbes observes that many of the cultural features of Christmas observance in the contemporary West derive from pre-Christian winter solstice festivals such as the Roman Saturnalia or the Yule/Jul of northern Europe.¹⁰

Nevertheless, in Christian communities today which emphasize the religious aspect of Christmas observance, the liturgical context depends largely on the birth narratives of Matthew and Luke. In such situations, the historical event of Christ's birth, which is portrayed in Scripture as a joyous occasion, is the focal point of the celebration. For me this suggests that, although the origins of Christmas are somewhat dubious and although this holiday is heavily exploited by commercial interests today, there exists a potential to rehabilitate Christmas into an observance that glorifies God. This is my vision. However, I believe there is a warrant for freedom in Christ with respect to the observance or non-observance of Christmas. As Paul says, 

"5 One person esteems one day as better than another, while another esteems all days alike. Each one should be fully convinced in his own mind. 6 The one who observes the day, observes it in honor of the Lord. The one who eats, eats in honor of the Lord, since he gives thanks to God, while the one who abstains, abstains in honor of the Lord and gives thanks to God...13 Therefore let us not pass judgment on one another any longer." (Romans 14:5-6, 13)

From a restorationist point of view, the observance of Christmas can be legitimately called an un-biblical corruption of the purity of apostolic worship. However, for those communities which allow for a sense of history within the church,¹¹ Christmas can be viewed as a tradition which, in spite of its shaky origins, rightly encourages celebration of the birth of the Saviour.

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1 Roll, S.K. (1995). Toward the Origins of Christmas. Peeters Publishers, p. 174.^↩
2 Forbes, B.D. (2008). Christmas: A Candid History. University of California Press, p. 18.^↩
3 Dunnavant, A.L. (2012). Restorationism. In B.J. & J.Y. Crainshaw (Eds.), Encyclopedia of Religious Controversies in the United States, Vol. 2. ABC-CLIO.^↩
4 Roll, S.K. op. cit., p. 50.^↩
5 Roll, S.K. op. cit., p. 108.^↩
6 Roll, S.K. op. cit., p. 69.^↩
7 Roll, S.K. op. cit., p. 174.^↩
8 Kochenash, M. (n.d.) The Origin of Christmas in Early Christian Sacred Space. Retrieved from https://www.academia.edu/5226888/The_Origin_of_Christmas_in_Early_Christian_Sacred_Space.^↩
9 Roll, S.K. op. cit., p. 269.^↩
10 Forbes, B.D. op. cit., pp. 3-11.^↩
11 It has been said that one of the central themes of primitivism (a term roughly synonymous with restorationism) is “a rejection of any sense of history.” (Hughes, R.T. (1995). The Meaning of the Restoration Vision. In R.T. Hughes (Ed.), The Primitive Church in the Modern World (ix-xviii). University of Illinois Press, p. x).^↩

The Devil in the General Epistles: A Series

Over the past few days I have uploaded a series of four papers to my website which collectively address the subject of the devil in the 'general epistles'. There are five such epistles which mention the devil: Hebrews (traditionally grouped with the Pauline epistles but no longer), James, 1 Peter, 1 John, and Jude. James and 1 Peter are discussed in a single paper because of the common tradition or literary dependence between their references to the devil.

The purpose of this series is to give a detailed, scholarly study of the texts in these epistles which shed light on the early church's understanding of ho diabolos, the devil. At the same time, the intention was to survey and critique Christadelphian exegesis of these passages. Christadelphian literature on the devil which was consulted for this purpose included Robert Roberts' Christendom Astray, Peter Watkins' The Devil - the Great Deceiver, Jonathan Burke's Satan and Demons: A Reply to Anthony Buzzard, Duncan Heaster's The Real Devil, Harry Tennant's What the Bible Teaches, Fred Pearce's Do you believe in a Devil?, and Alan Hayward's The Real Devil.

Below is a brief synopsis of each of the papers, with a PDF download link. Alternatively you can go to http://www.dianoigo.com/publications.html

Whether you are a Christadelphian or anyone else interested in what the earliest Christian communities believed about the devil, I hope you will find these papers enlightening and that they will spur you to further reflection on this important biblical topic.

The Devil in the General Epistles, Part 1: Hebrews

July 2014

A study of the single reference to the devil in the Epistle to the Hebrews, as well as the testimony of this epistle concerning Jesus' experience of temptation. Particular attention is paid to Christadelphian interpretations of these texts, since they are used as proof texts for the Christadelphians' figurative understanding of the biblical devil. Key biblical texts: Hebrews 2:14; Hebrews 2:18; Hebrews 4:15

The Devil in the General Epistles, Part 2: James and 1 Peter

July 2014

A study of the two closely related references to the devil in the Epistle of James and the First Epistle of Peter respectively. Particular attention is paid to Christadelphian interpretations of these texts and showing why they are best understood to refer to a personal supernatural being. This paper also discusses James 1:13-15 since Christadelphians infer from this passage that James could not have believed in a personal devil. Key biblical texts: James 1:13-15; James 4:7; 1 Peter 5:8

The Devil in the General Epistles, Part 3: 1 John

July 2014

A study of the texts in the First Epistle of John which refer to the devil, reading them in the context of early Christian satanology as well as the apocalyptic Jewish worldview characterized by modified dualism and cosmic conflict. The conclusion reached is that the writer understood the devil to be a personal supernatural being. Key biblical texts: 1 John 2:13-14; 1 John 3:8-12; 1 John 4:4; 1 John 5:18-19

The Devil in the General Epistles, Part 4: Jude

July 2014

A study of the puzzling reference to the devil in Jude 9. Zechariah 3:1-2 is also studied as part of the literary background to this text. An investigation of the source of Jude's allusion is undertaken, which provides the key to identifying the meaning of 'the devil' in this text. Christadelphian interpretations of this passage are described and critiqued. Key biblical texts: Zechariah 3:1-2; Jude 9

"The Socinian Challenge to Nicea" by Alan Spence: food for Christadelphian thought

Christology is the discipline within theology which seeks to understand and explain the person of Christ. In his book Christology: A Guide for the Perplexed (2008, T&T Clark), Dr. Alan Spence gives an introduction to historical christology.

Spence begins by describing the paradox which gave rise to the discipline of christology: that Jesus, a human being in history, was considered worthy of divine honour by Christians "from around the time the first churches came into being" (p. 5). Spence explains that the church sought to explain coherently why Jesus is worthy of this status while preserving his true humanity, which was seen as vital to his redemptive work.

He takes us through the subsequent christological developments and controversies which led to the crystallization of orthodoxy in the Nicene-Constantinopolitan Creed (4th century) and later the Chalcedonian Definition (5th century). These classical christological formulations remained unchallenged until the 16th century. Even the most prominent theologians of the Protestant Reformation, such as Calvin and Luther, raised no objections to orthodox christology. Others, however, "offered a far more radical critique of established theology" (p. 78). Following the execution of the Spanish anti-Trinitarian Michael Servetus, anti-Trinitarians sought refuge in Poland and became known as Socinians after their eminent theologian Faustus Socinus.

Spence's chapter on Socinian christology, entitled "The Socinian Challenge to Nicea", is highly relevant to Christadelphians because Socinians are the truest known forebears of Christadelphian christology down through the ages.¹ The Socinians held that Jesus was merely human by nature. Spence points to the Racovian Catechism, first published in 1605, as the definitive presentation of Socinian theology (including christology).

Spence's discussion of Socinian christology features the same measured approach found throughout his book. While he does not think Socinian christology can account for the biblical testimony concerning Christ's incarnation and pre-existence, he does not shy away from identifying strengths in their arguments or weaknesses in the arguments of their orthodox opponents.

Spence notes with interest the controversy that erupted between Socinians concerning whether or not Christ should be offered divine honour in worship. A dispute which arose in 1574 led to the condemnation of the teachings of a leading Socinian theologian, Francis David, who "argued publicly that Christ could not with propriety be addressed in prayer since he was not God by nature" (p. 81). While the Racovian Catechism firmly supported the appropriateness of addressing Christ in prayer, Spence asks whether Socinians "have provided an explanation of Christ's being which can properly account for the worship that they believe is his due" (p. 82). He expresses sympathy for Francis David, whose "argument that it was inappropriate to offer prayers and worship to a Christ who was not truly God appears to be far more logical than that of his fellow Socinians" (p. 82). This could serve as a discussion point for Christadelphians, among whom I have perceived a certain ambiguity about the propriety of offering worship and prayer to Christ.

The Racovian Catechism describes the position of classical christology that Christ had a divine and a human nature as "repugnant to right reason and Holy Scripture." Spence says this suggests "the Socinian methodological principle that theology ought to be determined by the examination of Scripture and the application of right reason” (p. 83). This entailed taking the post-Reformation watchword sola scriptura to such an extent that "no authority should be granted to the voice of tradition" and indeed that the creeds and other historical formulae of the Church "were deemed to have no value or place in theological construction other than as the false position of an adversary" (p. 83).

Spence makes an important observation concerning the Socinians' sola scriptura approach:

“Now the laudable idea that the text should be allowed to speak for itself can sometimes be a cover for a certain sleight of hand that is so deceptive that even its practitioners often fail to recognize it.” (p. 83)

He gives a fictional, illustrative example which is worth quoting in full:

“A Unitarian evangelist passes a copy of the Racovian Catechism to a seventeenth-century friend who worships in an English village church. She encourages him to read the book, and carefully look up all the relevant texts, so that hi view of Christ might be shaped directly by the Scriptures and not by the liturgy, hymnology or recited creeds of his local worshipping community. He is attracted by the eminent reasonableness of the proposal and looks forward to studying a theology that is unencumbered by ancient church dogma and tradition and determined only by Scriptures. But the book that he has just been given as a guide is itself a well-developed interpretive theory of what the Bible actually means. It has been formed by 50 years of vigorous intellectual discussion within the Socinian community and refined through sharp debate with Protestant and Catholic theologians. The young Anglican’s reading of the relevant scriptural passages at the book’s recommendation will be mediated by what is in effect a carefully honed Socinian theology. There is, of course, always some form of mediation taking place whenever the Scriptures are studied in that there is always some interpretive framework, conscious or unconscious, that is being brought to the text and which plays a part in shaping our understanding. The mediation described in the story above is a ‘closed’ mediation in that it does not allow or suggest other mediating voices and disguises its own mediating function. And this is the congenital difficulty with any theology which purports to be wholly shaped by Scripture – it fails to acknowledge the mediating traditions that have determined its own construction and it often struggles to listen with any attentiveness to what other Christians might have discovered about the truth of the Bible. And these failures are, one could say, the besetting weaknesses of all sectarian theology.” (pp. 83-84)

Besides being very incisive, this illustration closely parallels Christadelphian evangelistic methodology using literature such as The Great Salvation or Bible Basics.

He notes that the Socinians have bequeathed a heritage to modern christology, namely “a propensity to discard all past christological achievement or dogma and to begin the whole project anew with scant regard to the work of others” (p. 85). One detects the same propensity in the writings of John Thomas, the founder of Christadelphians.

Spence also discusses the Socinian appeal to the idea of 'reasonableness'. Spence acknowledges some merit in the Socinians' critique of self-contradictory and even nonsensical statements from orthodox theologians. However, he challenges the Socinian claim that the concept of a person who is truly both divine and human is repugnant to right reason. He very astutely points out that

“Christians have historically believed the incarnation to be a unique, foundational event. They have used it to reinterpret both their understanding of the manner of God’s being and their assessment of what it is to be truly human. The person of Christ, as one who is both fully human and fully divine, is in this sense the Church’s key hermeneutical principle. In a context where Christ is considered as the central interpretive reality, there is no weight to the argument that he does not satisfy some pre-existing criterion of what it means to be a person. The task of the Church is rather to submit to Christ as he is made known by the Spirit through the witness of the Scriptures and to bring its understanding about existence, the future, meaning and personhood into some sort of conformity to its mature reflection on the reality of Jesus.” (p. 86)

Spence's observation can be brought to bear with equal force upon Christadelphian dismissals of orthodox christology as illogical. Those making such arguments have not properly appreciated the uniqueness and definitiveness of the Christ-event.

In concluding this chapter, Spence writes that the Socinians posed theological questions which many of their contemporaries were ill-equipped to answer. However, in Spence's view, "In their critique of the orthodox understanding of Christ [the Socinians] were unable to provide a coherent alternative christology to that of Nicea" (p. 88).

In his conclusion to the book, Spence criticizes two extremes: on the one hand, “the hubris of the theologian who would begin theology completely afresh without regard for the tradition of the Church” and on the other hand, “those who, looking only to antiquity, would close their minds to the insights gained from modern theological discussion” (p. 155). He instead advocates a humble approach which includes "a willingness to recognize the significant accomplishments of both the ancient and the more recent and to build on them with both care and responsibility” (p. 155).

In building an ecumenical christology for today, he declares, "We must insist with the Socinians that Jesus was a man wholly dependent on the Holy Spirit in every aspect of his life but deny that this precludes him from being the eternal Son of God made flesh” (p. 159). This does not require that we repudiate classical, Nicene-Chalcedonian christology because “The tradition has within itself the theological resources to integrate these two perspectives in a coherent way.”

I think Spence's measured critique of Socinian christology provides Christadelphians with a good deal of food for thought.

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1 (Earlier heterodox christologies such as Ebionitism and Arianism are less compatible with Christadelphian doctrine since the former apparently denied the virgin birth and the latter affirmed Christ's personal pre-existence).^↩

The Rich Man, Lazarus and Hell

Few parables of Jesus have fostered more theological debate through the centuries than the parable of the rich man (often referred to as Dives, the Latin word for 'rich') and Lazarus (Luke 16:19-31). The theological debate is mainly about what this parable teaches about the fate of the wicked. There are basically four views, and they are about as different as can be.

The first view, which might be called the traditional one, holds that this parable provides a literal depiction of the fate of the wicked: what befalls Dives in the parable is very much like what awaits those who behave like him. The second view holds that the parable was intended to teach what the fate of the wicked is not like (by parodying the view held by some of Jesus' Jewish contemporaries). The third view holds that the parable was not intended to teach anything about the fate of the wicked. The fourth view holds that this parable does teach something about the fate of the wicked, but the details of the parable cannot be pressed as a literal description of that fate.

The first view has little credence among scholars today. Snodgrass remarks that "in most scholarly treatments we find the caution that the parable is not intended to give a description of life after death."¹ In his commentary on the parables of Jesus, Hultgren agrees that revealing the conditions of the afterlife is not the purpose of the parable.² Even Yarbrough, a proponent of the traditionalist view of hell, cautions that "It is widely accepted that this story is parabolic and not intended to furnish a detailed geography of hell."³

As to the second view, it has been defended by the lay Christadelphian writer Thomas Williams, who concluded that "Jesus told the jealous, self-exultant Pharisees the parable of the rich man and Lazarus to confound them using their own false doctrines concerning the afterlife."⁴ More recently, Papaioannou proposed in scholarly fashion that the parable's description of Hades contained absurdities and theological discrepancies designed to undermine the credibility of contemporary Jewish beliefs about the afterlife.⁵

In Jeremias' commentary on the parables, he identified four "double-edged parables" (including the Rich Man and Lazarus) and argued that in each case the emphasis falls on the second half.⁶ Hultgren further notes that the emphasis naturally lies at the end of a parable.⁷ In this case, the second half (and the end) is Dives' request that Lazarus be sent to warn his brothers, and Abraham's reply. This part of the parable is about the sufficiency of Scripture and the futility of a resurrected messenger trying to convert Dives' brothers; it is scarcely about the afterlife at all. If the parable's main message is not about the afterlife, then both the first and second views would seem to be excluded, since both of these views suggest that the parable was intended primarily to teach about the afterlife (whether positively or negatively).

Papaioannou acknowledges that the parable's main thrust is at the end. However, he argues that the first part of the parable had an element of surprise that would "arrest the attention to the second part of the parable where the main message of the parable is delivered."⁵ This is unconvincing since a surprise unrelated to the main message - indeed one that reduced the story to absurdity - would be more likely to distract than to focus the audience's attention on the serious message at the end of the parable.

A number of scholars have defended the third view. Fudge, a leading Evangelical proponent of conditionalism (sometimes known as annihilationism), states that this parable "likely was not intended to teach anything" on the subject of hell torments.⁸ Wright (not N.T.) concludes that "In this parable Jesus no more provides information about the intermediate state than, in other parables, does he provide instruction on correct agricultural practices or investing tips."⁹

Two main arguments have been made in defense of the third view. Firstly, as Bauckham showed in his extensive discussion of extra-biblical parallels, this parable draws on two narrative motifs familiar at this time in history: (1) a reversal of fortunes experienced by a rich man and a poor man after death; and (2) a dead person's return from the dead with a message for the living.¹⁰ Wright argues, like Papaioannou, that Jesus deliberately subverts these motifs.⁹ The denial of Dives' request that Lazarus be sent to his brothers seems an obvious subversion of the second motif, but it is not clear that the first part of the parable subverts the reversal of fortunes motif. Papaioannou points to 'absurdities' in the description of Hades, such as the idea that a tongue engulfed in Hadean flames could be soothed with a drop of water carried on a fingertip.¹¹ Yet this is better explained as hyperbole than as an attempt to render the story absurd.

Other 'absurdities' Papaioannou sees in the story, such as the use of a term for mental anguish (odunaō) for what should be physical pain, are exaggerated.

The theological discrepancies in the story (noted by Papaioannou¹² as well as Fudge¹³) include the location of the abode of the righteous within earshot of the abode of the wicked, and the setting of the story in Hades, which in the New Testament is usually a temporary place of confinement until the resurrection.¹⁴ This implies that Dives undergoes fiery torment immediately after his death, whereas elsewhere Jesus teaches that the fiery punishment of the wicked occurs after the final judgment, in Gehenna (e.g. Matthew 13:42; 18:8-9; 25:41).

Both of these 'discrepancies' can be explained as adaptations necessary for Jesus' didactic purposes. Situating the two abodes within earshot allows for the dialogue between Dives and Abraham (with Lazarus), while situating the story in the intermediate state allows for Dives' attempted intercession on his brothers' behalf while they are still alive.

Thus there is nothing in the parable's depiction of Hades that suggests Jesus intended to subvert contemporary ideas either about the reversal of fortunes motif in particular or eschatological punishment in general. Indeed, Jesus' teachings elsewhere in this Gospel are consistent with the reversal of fortunes motif (e.g. Luke 6:20-26; 13:28-30; 14:8-14). Moreover, his teachings about eschatological punishment contain both fire imagery (see passages cited above) and the idea of duration (Matthew 18:34 and probably Luke 12:59). Lehtipuu states that Jesus' "description of the otherworldly conditions is believable according to the parameters of his cultural world."¹⁵

The second argument in favour of the third view is that, as was mentioned above, the main thrust of this parable is at the end, in Abraham's response to Dives' request that Lazarus be sent to warn his brothers. Since this part of the parable is not about the afterlife, it is contended that the parable does not teach about the afterlife. However, just because the primary emphasis is on the closing section (vv. 27-31) does not mean that the earlier part of the parable was not intended to teach anything.

Because the parable in Luke 15:11-32 is another "double-edged parable" and closes with the elder son's resentment, some scholars argue that this bears the parable's main message. But few would argue on this basis that vv. 20-24 were not intended to teach about the value of repentance and God's great compassion and mercy.

The didactic content of the parable of the Rich Man and Lazarus lies in Dives' two requests to Abraham and Abraham's two refusals (vv. 24-31). We must therefore ask what teaching Jesus intended to convey with the first exchange in vv. 24-26. One observes that the parable would still cohere if this section were omitted. Suppose that v. 24 read, "And he called out, 'I beg you, Father Abraham, to send Lazarus to my father's house...'" and then continued from v. 28. The message conveyed in vv. 28-31 would hardly be compromised. We are thus compelled to conclude that Jesus' intended to convey another message with the first request and refusal in vv. 24-26. And that message could only be about the fate of the wicked. In short, the denial of even the most pathetic of requests from the rich man highlights the total, uninterrupted misery of the damned and the absolute, irrevocable reversal of fortunes that has occurred in contrast to Dives' and Lazarus' earthly lives. The severity of Dives' fate is declared to be just.

Hence, other scholars - rightly, in my view - argue for the fourth view, namely that the parable does teach about the fate of the wicked. As Snodgrass puts it:

“Are any conclusions about the afterlife possible? Although the caution about reading the details too literally is needed, the parable’s eschatological relevance cannot be wiped away. The themes of reversal and judgment must be given their due. The parable is a warning to the rich and emphasizes the importance of what humans do with the present, and it still teaches that humans will be judged for the way they lived and that the consequences will be serious.”¹⁶

Similarly, Lehtipuu writes that

"the audience of Jesus (as well as the readers and listeners to the gospel) naturally are appraised of the severe otherworldly consequences of an undesirable lifestyle, which is the main point of Luke’s description."¹⁷

Furthermore, as Peterson points out,¹⁸ the parable unmistakably equates fire with enduring torment and in this respect it sheds light on Jesus' use of fire imagery elsewhere when depicting the fate of the ungodly.

On the whole, then, while it cannot be said decisively that the Parable of the Rich Man and Lazarus teaches a doctrine of eternal torment for the wicked, it does favour a traditional view of hell as a place of enduring misery.

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1 Snodgrass, K. (2008). Stories with Intent: A Comprehensive Guide to the Parables of Jesus. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, p. 430. ^↩

2 Hultgren, A.J. (2002). The Parables of Jesus: A Commentary. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans. ^↩

3 Yarbrough, R. (2004). "Jesus on Hell." In Hell under Fire: Modern Scholarship Reinvents Eternal Punishment, ed. C.W. Morgan & R.A. Peterson. Grand Rapids: Zondervan, p. 74. ^↩

4 Williams, T. (1906). Hell Torments: A Failure, a Fallacy and a Fraud. Christadelphian Advocate Publications.^↩

5 Papaioannou, K.G. (2004). Places of Punishment in the Synoptic Gospels. Ph.D. dissertation, Durham University, p. 155. ^↩

6 Jeremias, J. (1972). The Parables of Jesus. Charles Scribner's Sons, p. 131.^↩

7 Hultgren, A.J. op. cit., p. 85.^↩

8 Fudge, E. (2011). The Fire That Consumes: A Biblical and Historical Study of the Doctrine of Final Punishment, 3rd ed. Wipf and Stock Publishers, p. 148.^↩

9 Wright, T. 2008. “Death, the Dead and the Underworld in Biblical Theology: Part 2.” Churchman 122(2), p. 114. ^↩

10 Bauckham, R. (1991). "The Rich Man and Lazarus: The Parable and the Parallels." New Testament Studies 37, pp. 225-246.^↩

11 Papaioannou, K.G. op. cit., p. 153.^↩

12 Papaioannou, K.G. op. cit., p. 154.^↩

13 Fudge, E. op. cit., p. 153.^↩

14 Bernstein, A.E. (1993). The Formation of Hell: Death and Retribution in the Ancient and Early Christian Worlds. Ithaca: Cornell University Press. p. 139.^↩

15 Lehtipuu, O. (2007). The Afterlife Imagery in Luke’s Story of the Rich Man and Lazarus. Leiden: BRILL, p. 299.^↩

16 Snodgrass, K. op. cit., p. 432. ^↩

17 Lehtipuu, O. op. cit., p. 302.^↩

18 Peterson, R.A. (1994). “A Traditionalist Response to John Stott’s Arguments for Annihilationism.” Journal of the Evangelical Theological Society 37(4), p. 559.^↩