Alex Poulos on (mostly Ancient) Literature
So I found myself pronouncing Greek with an accent this morning as I was trying to memorize some more. It was somewhere between a modern Greek accent and the one I use for Spanish. I’m sure it wouldn’t be comprehensible to too many people, but I think it helps me remember the text better if I can pronounce it more prosodically, and less like a series of unconnected words. Hopefully it will continue to be helpful!
~alex
I’ve decided to purchase Douglas Campbell’s The Deliverance of God after working through nearly 200 pages of it so far (I have it on Interlibrary Loan right now). I’ve been amazed at the argument thus far. He’s done a very thorough job of highlighting the problems with the classic Protestant doctrine of Justification by faith. I’m not yet sure how persuasive I’ll find his proposed solution, but he has convinced me that we need a solution. I’ll be blogging on this work quite a bit. I’m hoping to offer some summaries and maybe a small bit of analysis as I work through the book. This is both for the benefit of my audience (the book is long and not cheap), but perhaps mostly so I’ll understand the issues better by engaging with them.
So, hopefully, there will be a series of posts on this work right around the corner ;-)
~alex
I loved this bit from Douglas Campbell’s The Quest for Paul’s Gospel, A Suggested Strategy
“I resist a paradigmatic postmodernism not because I am a critical realist or a traditional modernist, or even because it is self-referntially incoherent (which it is), but because I am a Christian. And as such I must affirm the rationality, the order, and the basic communicability of the reality that I am now caught up in. These aspects of that reality have been increasingly revealed; I cannot deny them. …
However, also as a Christian, I must acknowledge that the intelligibility of the created and redeemed order is shot through with ambiguities and difficulties, and one of the most flawed and darkened corners of that reality remains my mind. So I endorse fully the provisional nature of all our theological claims, including what I claim theologically here – that is, their brokenness, fragility, and frequent inaccuracy. … In that sense then we are all now postmodernists; we are post modernists with a small ‘p’, so to speak.”
The bolded part shocked me! It’s not the thing I was expecting in a scholarly argument on Paul. I guess I knew Campbell was a Christian, as he does teach at a divinity school. But I was pleasantly shocked that he was so open with this little part of the book. May we be increasingly able to acknowledge our faith, (whatever they may be, though preferably Christian ;-) ) in our religious study.
~alex
As I’ve been thinking more about the topic of participation in Paul’s letters, I’ve realized that participation theology (that is, a solid understanding of the believer dying and rising with Christ), may serve as a needed corrected to some aspects of Charismatic theology. Let’s start with a bit of background. Protestantism historically has embraced a pessimistic attitude toward humanity, even toward the believer. Especially for Luther, the believer remains plagued with sin, while still a saint, and must cling by faith to the coming deliverance of Christ. Justification is something God does for the believer, once and for all, in the cross. It is imputed to the believer, but the believer’s is still torn between both flesh and Spirit (à la Romans 7). There may also be a tendency to delay the “good things” about believers into a future age, whether it’s inheritance, sanctification, etc.
What a lot of Charismatic theology has done is reclaim the good things the New Testament has to say about the believer. Charismatics love passages like Ephesians 2:3-10, where the believers are portrayed as being seated with Christ in the Heavenly realms. We love Romans 8, and the triumphant “Life by the Spirit.” We love 2 Cor 5:17-21, where the believer is called a new creation! We definitely love statements like, “As the father has sent me, so I send you.” The miraculous aspects of Jesus’ ministry typically follow. Some Charismatics go so far to promulgate a “Dominion Theology” where Christians are supposed to “reign with Jesus” in places of leadership throughout the secular world. See this for a bit more info.
On the whole, I think this a good progression from Luther’s pessimism, but it does have some problems. First, there are a few practical problems. An exalted view of the believer is an easy recipe for spiritual arrogance and pride. The prosperity gospel probably came from this imbalance. Also, it can lead to some existential quandaries. Sometimes, life sucks. Even if I’m a son of God, I sure don’t always feel like it! Along with this, any struggle is automatically because of demonic oppression. Or, if God doesn’t answer my prayer, my faith is really shaken!
The traditional doctrine of justification actually encourages these, in my mind. The problem is that the cross is thought of primarily (or exclusively) as something that God did through Jesus for us. This is absolutely true! But it’s not the complete story. We are also called to emulate the cross, to participate in the dying and rising with Christ. We Charismatics love to emphasize the power of resurrection without the suffering of the cross, but God calls us to both. They’re definitely linked in Paul’s mind. Philippians 3:10-11 is a very good example of this, “I want to know Christ, and the power of his resurrection, and the fellowship of sharing in his sufferings, becoming like him in his death, and so somehow, to attain to the resurrection from the dead.” This balance is absolutely crucial. It helps us make sense of the challenges of life (which sometimes get downright terrible; but then again, so was the cross!). I helps us make sense of the awesome points of life (after all, we’re sharing in the power of his resurrection!). It helps us remember that the way to exaltation and glorification is through the the Cross, the way of humility. We are heirs with Christ, but this involves sharing in his suffering (Romans 8:17).
Overall, I think that a robust “participationist” reading of Paul will help us live much more effectively. It helps us remain humble in suffering while celebrating the glorious parts in the life of the believer. Charismatics heartily embrace the power of the Resurrection. Hopefully we can embrace the suffering of the Cross as well.
~alex
I read through a good bit of Keener’s 1999 long commentary on Matthew, and was quite impressed by it! Unfortunately, I need to focus my reading on Paul and Ignatius right now, but it was a fun diversion. Perhaps I’ll get to come back to it in the future…
~alex
As I’m thinking more about suffering in Paul’s thought and Ignatius’ thought, I’ve realized that I’m going to have to defend a “partcipationist” reading of Paul. Typically, this is done by arguing the “in Christ” notion of Paul as being more fundamental or important than his justification/legal language. I’m not terribly interested in attacking justification, but I do want the participation language to take its proper place. The early fathers read Paul almost exclusively on these terms, where as Protestants have done the complete opposite: we have read Paul exclusively from justification/legal terms. We need to understand both! As I’ve been working through 1 Corinthians and memorizing, I’ve been surprised by the participatory language that is present. It’s couched in very practical sections, but it’s there nonetheless.
The first thing I noticed was 1 Cor 6:17, “But the one who joins himself with the Lord is one with him in spirit.” The contrast here is with the prior verse, and the one “who joins himself with a prostitute.” Here, our union with Christ is compared to sexual union. If that’s not participatory language, I don’t know what is! Of course, as I’ve noted somewhere prior, I don’t want to run off to strange places with this metaphor. But what remains is that there is something “mystical” (for lack of a better word) going on here. There’s is more to conversion than simply what Christ accomplished on the cross (magnificent though it was!). In baptism, we die and rise with Christ. We become a part of his body. We participate in his suffering and in his glorification.
We see similar things a chapter later. After instructing believers married to unbelievers not to leave their spouses, Paul offers this little statement:
“For the unbelieving man is sanctified by the [believing] wife, and the unbelieving woman is sanctified by the [believing] husband. If this were not so, your children would be unclean. As it is, though, they are holy”
and, after another verse:
“how do you know, wife, that you won’t save your husband? how do you know, husband, that you won’t save your wife?”
1 Cor 7:14,16
What’s strange here is the “high view of the believer” for lack of a better term. Paul states that an unbelieving spouse is made holy by a believing spouse. He also states that a believing spouse may save an unbelieving spouse. I think this is difficult to make sense of in a traditional, justification-driven framework.
For example, if I lead a friend to Christ tomorrow, and then introduce to my pastor as “my friend who I just saved,” I’m probably gonna get a rebuke about how it’s only Jesus who saves people, not me. Likewise, If I pray for a sick person and they become well, it’ll sound strange if I say, “I just healed someone!” I’ve been corrected along those lines before, in my more youthful and zealous days. But whereas that kind of language makes us uncomfortable, it doesn’t seem to phase Paul here (though he does have problems when he’s mistaken for a Greek deity ;-) ). The New Testament occasionally will name an apostle as healing someone without making explicit reference to God, like in Acts 28:8: “Paul visited him and cured him by praying and putting his hands on him. “
I think this make much more sense if we take Paul’s participation language into account. How on earth can a believer make an unbeliever holy? How on earth can a believer make their children holy? And how on earth can a believer sanctify an unbeliever? Well, if we’re “one with the Lord in Spirit” then it makes sense. If we’re participating with Jesus in the power of resurrection and the fellowship of sufferings (Philippians 3:10) then we can talk like this. It’s not me κατα σαρκα (according to the flesh) that saves or sanctifies someone, it’s me κατα πνευμα (according to the Spirit). It’s the me that has joined itself with the Lord, and become one with him in Spirit.
A high view of the believer (contra Luther, perhaps?) makes plenty of sense when we consider that we are μελη χριστου, members of Christ’s body. In some way we take part in the suffering and the glory of the risen Messiah. From this standpoint, I think we can begin to understand what’s going on here in 1 Corinthians regarding “saving” and “sanctifying.” The people correcting me were right to an extent, it is only the triune God that saves and heals. The funny thing is, we’re called into that triune fellowship, that communion, in Christ and by the Spirit. I don’t know what that means exactly, but it’s tremendously exciting. I’m looking forward to discovering more!
~alex
I love interlibrary loans. My university, NC State, does have a large volume of titles. However, we’re primarily an agriculture and engineering school, not a humanities one. Fortunately for me, the other triangle universities are very good about sharing books with one another, so I have access to the libraries of Duke and UNC. This is especially nice because I have access to the Duke Divinity School library! I recently requested Craig Keener’s long commentary on Matthew. The funny thing was, when I visited the Divinity School last week, I forgot that I had requested it and went looking for it in their library! I was a bit disappointed to not find anything, but pleasantly surprised a few days later when I got an e-mail saying that my interlibrary loan request was ready to pick up.
Perhaps I should lay off for a bit if I can’t even keep track of what I’ve requested.
But what’s the fun in that? ;-)
~alex
Translating the New Testament: Test, Translation, Theology
I got this book from the Library the other day, and I’ve read quite a bit of it so far. The textual criticism articles were pretty interesting. Barbara Aland wrote about the work that still remains to be done for the NT. Maurice Robinson offered a critique of the standard critical text, the NA27 (which has been put together by Aland’s organization). He has plenty of good critique for the standard critical text. He loves to point out that the reconstructed text of the NA27 often has a reading that is not supported by any manuscripts (at the verse level). The individual variant have support, but the particular reconstruction of an entire verse does not have support as is from the manuscript witnesses. While I don’t know if this is as big of a problem as Robinson makes it out to be (it is a concern), he doesn’t seem to offer an alternative. I suppose I should go read his book arguing for the textual superiority of the byzantine textform.
Some of the other essays are fascinating. Alain Gignac’s essay on “A Translation That Induces a Reading Experience” especially stands out. I’m not sure I follow everything he says, but his reflections from working on a contemporary “non-traditional” Bible translation were wonderful to read.
More as I get further…
~alex
The Greek Text:
A rough translation:
Notes:
The challenge here is figuring how much of this is a quotation from the Corinthian letter. The, “it is good for man not to marry” bit could be a statement by Paul or a quotation from their letter. I *think* that this bit is a quotation and then the following verses are Paul’s instructions. O that quotation marks were a later invention! Also, I don’t think I’d be able to make sense of verse 5 yet without a translation. It seems like there’s at least two implicit verbs that you have to supply when translating into English. Literally, it’s something like, “if ever from union to a time.” I’ve chosen withdraw and do.
Paul’s statements on marriage are very interesting. What might be surprising is the “reciprocity” of the commands. Given the paternalism of both the Jewish and Graeco-Roman culture of the era, one might only expect commands to be directed at the wives. It’s not surprising that wives are commanded to fulfill their marital duty to their husbands, or that they’re told that they’re not the “masters of their own bodies.” What is surprising is that the husbands are told the same things. I can’t be certain, since I haven’t done that much background research, but I’d expect that the statement, “the husband is not the master of his own body: the wife is,” would have been surprising to first century ears.
Also, even in a passage where Paul makes clear his preference for celibacy, he recognizes the “goodness” of the creation, including marriage. From chapter 6:16-17, he likely understands marriage, in particular sexual union, as a “shadow” in some way of our relationship with the Lord. There is a parallel between sexual intimacy and “being one with the Lord in Spirit” (1 Cor 6:17). I’m not sure how to define that any farther. Frankly, it can get really weird, really fast to pursue that line of thought. I’m sure it’s something I’ll understand more after marriage, but it is important to point out before hand. I’m content to revisit that line of thought in the future.
~alex
So, as I’ve stated before, I’m currently working on an essay that examines Ignatius’ suffering in light of Pauline suffering. To do this, I have to clearly articulate what we learn about Paul’s understanding of suffering from his letters. Right now, I’m trying to think of texts to examine this. Philippians will definitely play a large role in my construction, but 2 Corinthians will also likely play a big role. There also seem to be little germs spread out in other letters where suffering isn’t an explicit theme, like Romans 8:17, Colossians 1:24, Ephesians 3:13, Galatians 6:17, and throughout Thessalonians.
Baptism seems to play a large part in Paul’s theology of suffering. In baptism, we participate in the passion, the death and resurrection of Christ. In baptism, we have been “crucified with Christ,” (Gal 2:20), and are “clothed with Christ” (Gal 3:27). Paul goes into more depth in Romans. In understanding suffering, I think we have to understand the participation language in Paul, and not simply think in forensic terms like Protestants typically do. That’s to say that while there is a large amount of legal terminology in Paul, where something is done by God for the sinner, there’s also quite a bit of participation language in Paul. When taken into account, this means that the sufferings of Christ are not only something done for us, but also something which we ourselves participate in to some degree. This is seen in Philippians 3, among other places, “I want to know Christ, and the power of his resurrection, and the fellowship of sharing in his sufferings, becoming like him in his death, and so, somehow, to attain to the resurrection from the dead.” Of course, the justification language in Paul is very important as well, but I don’t think we’ll correctly understand Paul’s ethics, and especially his views on suffering, without understanding the participation of the believer in Christ.
~alex
Alex Poulos, PhD 