Category: patristics

Latin versus German: la langue la plus utile?

~ Alex Poulos ~ 7 Comments

I’m currently debating which language to study next. I’m currently focusing on Greek, and I’ve studied French for years. Both will be necessary before I (God willing) do doctoral work, but I’m currently leaning toward Latin.

The crux is this: I’m on a waiting list at school for a free Rosetta Stone license. I get to pick any one I want to use for 2 months, and they have both Latin and German options. I’m leaning toward Latin for several reasons. First, I think I want to do research on the early Church, and not just the New Testament. Thus, Latin is obviously important when dealing with the Western Church. Second, I don’t think Latin will be too terribly difficult. Vocabulary-wise, I expect to know quite a bit from French. Grammar wise, I expect a lot of similarities with Greek (though I could be totally off base here…). Third, Latin just seems more interesting ;-).

Of course, German has its plus. You open yourself up to a load of secondary literature, but I’m wanting to read the primary literature first!

Any thoughts?

~alex

Church Fathers (in French!)

~ Alex Poulos ~ 2 Comments

I got a few books from the library today. Among them was a sources chrétiennes edition of Origen’s Commentary on Romans. This is a critical text with French translation, and loads of helpful commentary. I’m pleasantly surprised at my French. I’m able to follow along quite nicely and get the gist of what’s being said. Reading in a foreign language can be a mystical experience at times… Now, if only I could read Greek like I do French ;-).

Oh, and I must say, the “source chrétiennes” series is phenomenal, if this work is any indicator. I hope to get my hands on more.

ΠΙΣΤΙΣ ΧΡΙΣΤΟΥ in the Apostolic Fathers

~ Alex Poulos ~ 3 Comments

So I’m thinking of doing some posts on πίστις Χριστοῦ in the apostolic fathers. I’m rather interested to see how the early Fathers understood the now controversial phrase, which can be understood as either “faith in Jesus Christ” or “faithfulness of Jesus Christ.” This is a huge debate in Pauline scholarship right now. I’m tentatively in the “faithfulness of Jesus Christ” camp, though I haven’t really read enough of either side. I’ve run some searches through accordance to see what I could find. One particularly interesting bit came in chapter 1 of Ignatius’ letter to the Magnesians. I’ll post the Greek and English here (Michael Holmes’s translation).

“Γνοὺς ὑμῶν τὸ πολυεύτακτον τῆς κατὰ θεὸν ἀγάπης, ἀγαλλιώμενος, προειλάμην ἐν πίστει Ἰησοῦ Χριστοῦ προσλαλῆσαι ὑμῖν.
καταξιωθεὶς γὰρ ὀνόματος θεοπρεπεστάτου, ἐν οἷς περιφέρω δεσμοῖς ᾄδω τὰς ἐκκλησίας, ἐν αἷς ἕνωσιν εὔχομαι σαρκὸς καὶ πνεύματος Ἰησοῦ Χριστοῦ, τοῦ διὰ παντὸς ἡμῶν ζῆν, πίστεώς τε καὶ ἀγάπης, ἧς οὐδὲν προκέκριται, τὸ δὲ κυριώτερον, Ἰησοῦ καὶ πατρός·
ἐν ᾧ ὑπομένοντες τὴν πᾶσαν ἐπήρειαν τοῦ ἄρχοντος τοῦ αἰῶνος τούτου καὶ διαφυγόντες θεοῦ τευξόμεθα.”

1) “When I learned how well ordered your love toward God is, I rejoiced and resolved to address you in the faith of Jesus Christ.
2) For inasmuch as I have been judged worthy to bear a most godly name, in these chains that I bear I sing the praises of the churches, and I pray that in them there may be a union of flesh and spirit that comes from Jesus Christ, our never-failing life, and of faith and love, to which nothing is preferable, and—what is more important—of Jesus and the Father.
In him we will reach God, if we patiently endure all the abuse of the ruler of this age and escape.”

Whenever I try to resolve this question, I feel the weight of my Greek ignorance! I’m nowhere near knowledgeable enough to make a reliable judgment on the basis of grammar and syntax, but hopefully I can appeal somewhat to theology and context (two things I can do a bit better than Greek thankfully ;-) ).

Holmes here translates the first bolded phrase as “address you in the faith of Jesus Christ.” To me, this reading sounds like it’s focused on doctrine. “I address you as one who believes the correct things about Jesus.” I don’t think that’s the best way to understand the phrase though. (One thing to do would be to look and see if Ignatius uses “faith” as a short way of saying “Christianity.” He may, though I can’t think of any off the top of my head). I think a better way to render the phrase is “by the faithfulness of Jesus Christ,” with the rest of the chapter as supporting context.

My primary reasons here come from the beginning and end of verse 2. In the beginning of the verse, Ignatius writes, “in these chains I bear, I sing the praises of the churches.” I think the echo is a liturgical one; he’s drawing on the practice of singing together during the Eucharist. The next line follows the “song” with a prayer for the unity of the Church. The liturgy, as Ignatius understood it, was fundamentally participatory. In the Eucharist, the Church shared in the broken body and shed blood of Jesus (according to 1 Cor 10:14-17). This supports a “faithfulness of Jesus” reading because Ignatius is participating in the faithfulness of Christ. He is able to address this church only because of Christ’s faithfulness. In suffering for him, Ignatius shares in his sufferings, and thus shares in Jesus’ faithfulness.

This point is reinforced by the final part of the verse, where Ignatius writes, “In him we will reach God, if we patiently endure all the abuse of the ruler of this age and escape.” The exhortation here is to faithful sufferings, but the basis is participatory: “in him we will reach…” Because of the echoes to the liturgy and to faithful suffering, I think that a “faithfulness of Jesus Christ” reading is justified. Indeed, with Ignatius’ strong emphasis throughout his letters on “suffering with Christ,” many of uses as πἰστις probably have strong “faithfulness” connotations.

Anyway, that’s enough for now. More to come later!

~alex

On Paul and the Apostolic Fathers

~ Alex Poulos ~ 2 Comments

I loved reading through the Apostolic Fathers and seeing the allusions to the New Testament. I’ve just been going over Polycarp’s letter to the Philippians, chapter 5. It’s remarkable how he combines so many Pauline themes into his epistle. Polycarp’s Philippians 5 definitely alludes to Galatians. It starts with “God is not mocked (Θεὸς ού μυκτηρίζεται).” We also get his allusion back to “walking in the Spirit” with Polycarp’s reference to “the walk (περιπατειν).” Tracing this through to v. 3, we see the “flesh versus Spirit” dichotomy, with Polycarp sharply warning against the “desires of the world (επιθυμια ἐν τῳ κοσμῳ).”

Another fascinating aspect of this is how he conflates several related Pauline letters. For instance, Galatians 5 contains a vice list which ends with “those who live like this will not inherit the Kingdom of God. (βασίλεαν θεοῦ κληρονομήσουσιν)” But Polycarp shows full awareness of the very similar vice list in 1 Corinthians 6 because he quotes vices from that list that aren’t in Galatians. Both end with the bit on not inheriting the kingdom. We also have a subtle allusion to early parts of 1 Corinthians in Polycarp’s Philippians 5:2. Polycarp says that “if we live in a manner worth of him, we will rule with him (συμβασιλεύσομεν), if indeed we trust.” The same word for ruling is used ironically in 1 Corinthians 4:8, where Paul says, “Already you have become rich! You have become kings—and that without us! How I wish that you really had become kings so that we might be kings with you (συμβασιλεύσωμεν)!” In light of chapter 6, where Paul talks about the church judging on the last day, the irony here is not that the Corinthians “are kings,” (they will be someday), but that they are already kings.

Likewise, the flesh/Spirit antithesis in Galatians 5 seems to bring in Ephesians 4-6. Polycarp not only speaks of the flesh “desiring what is contrary to the Spirit,” but also talks about the flesh “waging war against the Spirit. (στρατευεται, literally to serve in the military).” This echoes the great military language of Ephesians 6, where we are instructed to “put on the full armor of God.” Likewise, Polycarp’s affinity for παριπατεω (to walk) links with the adverb αξιῶς (worthy). Paul puts the two together Ephesians 4:1, where the Church is urged to “walk (περιπαῆσαι) in a manner worthy (αξιῶς) of the calling you have received.”

Watching the Apostolic Fathers read Paul is a treat. Or rather, watching Paul write through the Apostolic Fathers is a treat ;-) In this one chapter, Polycarp has leveraged at the very least, 1 Cor 4-6, Eph 4-6, and Gal 5-6. And those are just the ones I found. This early bishop was clearly significantly shaped by Paul, both by his letters, and no doubt by the liturgy that developed from his work. We have a lot to learn from these guys!

~alex

Essay Excerpt: Ignatius and θεοφορός (Part One)

~ Alex Poulos ~ 3 Comments

Here’s an excerpt from the essay I wrote on Paul and Ignatius. It concerns his use of the term θεοφορός, ‘God-bearer.’

We may begin our analysis of Ignatius by examining the term Θεοφορός, the title that Ignatius uses at the beginning of all letters: “Ἰγνάτιος, ὁ καὶ Θεοφόρος.” The term is a compound of the noun θεὸς and the participle φορὸς, meaning “God-bearer.” The interpretation of this term is controversial, but it has the ability to shed light on Ignatius’ self-understanding and the depth of his identification with Christ. Two interpretative options will be given, and then I will show the participatory implications of both.

The first option presents the term functioning as an additional name for Ignatius. Thus, Lightfoot translates the opening, “Ignatius, also called Theophorus,” and leaves the term untranslated. Supporters of the second option believe the word functions as a semi-technical cultic title that has been re-appropriated in a Christian way. Holmes thus translates the phrase this way, “Ignatius the Image-bearer.” The adaptation in this case would come from Greco-Roman epiphany processions. In these processions, an “image-bearer” would carry an image that was supposed to mediate the presence of a deity. Some argue that this is the material Paul is drawing on when he speaks of “always bearing (περιφεροντες) in our bodies the death of Jesus.” Likewise, it is argued that Ignatius is using Pagan cultic practices and redrawing them around Jesus.

Reading θεοφορός as an additional name readily coheres with what we know of early Christianity. Early Christian leaders regularly had name changes, or additional names given. Saul became Paul following his conversion in the narrative of Acts. Even more famously, Simon became Peter in Matthew 16:18. Names had important theological implications, in both the Old and New Testaments. There are copious examples to choose from, but one famous example comes from Isaiah 7:14 where the child was to be named “Immanuel” meaning “God with us.” Of course, this gets picked up by the New Testament writers and applied to Jesus. So even if θεοφορός is an additional name for Ignatius, it is still legitimate to explore the theological implications of the term. The idea of “bearing God” in his body certainly shaped Ignatius as he reflected on his approaching death.

The second option reads θεοφορός as a title that has been drawn from the Greco-Roman epiphany processions. Since a θεοφορός denoted the personal carrying an image of a deity in these Pagan practices, this reading argues that Ignatius draws on this practice, redefining it in Christian terms. Instead of mediating the presence of a god through an image, Ignatius as a θεοφορός would evoke notions of carrying the presence of God in his own body. He is the true “God-bearer”, over against the pagan θεοφόροι. This reading is particularly strong if Paul is doing the same thing in 2 Corinthians. For several reasons, I find this reading more plausible. Ignatius uses the term when referring to the Ephesian Church in Ephesians 9:2. Holmes notes that if θεοφορός is functioning as a name, “it would be the first instance of such a usage.” Finally, it may function as a parallel to Paul’s use of ἀπόστολος. However, we will see strong participatory significance in either case.

First, if θεοφορός is a name for Ignatius, then it is would have played a significant part in his self-reflection. It may have been given to him at his baptism, or at some other significant even in his life. It may have come out of a charismatic experience similar to what he describes in Philadelphians, or that Paul describes in 1 Corinthians 14. One cannot do much more than speculate about the source of the name, but if it were a name then it surely would have had significance.

On the other hand, if θεοφορός is a title, then Ignatius is deliberately making an ironic ploy. In this case, he defines himself over against the pagan image-bearers as the “image-bearer” of the one, true God. The image is not an idol made of gold, but rather his own body and ministry. The presence of God within him is best seen as he participates in the suffering of Christ. Indeed, he speaks of “rejoicing in the suffering of our Lord” (Ign Phld Salutation).

We may further note the similarity between θεοφορός for Ignatius and ἀπόστολος for Paul. Structurally, they come at nearly identical places in the letter. Paul most often begins his letters with, “Παυλος ἀπόστολος.” Ignatius begins every one of his letters with “Ιγνάτιος ὁ και θεοφορός.” The immediate difference is the presence of the article ὁ and the conjunction καὶ. Still, the similarities are significant. Paul’s self-understanding as an apostle of Jesus shaped and influenced everything he did. We see this throughout his letters, but especially in 2 Corinthians, which we examined earlier. I suggest that θεοφορός shares similar significance for Ignatius. This is a strong claim, and would take rather detailed exegesis to argue in full detail. For now it is sufficient to note the participatory significance of θεοφορός. At the present, we may finally turn to the texts in more detail.

Perhaps more to come…

Status Update

~ Alex Poulos ~ Leave a comment

So I’ve dropped almost completely off the radar the past couple of weeks.  I’ve had tons going on at work and school (err, the typical excuse ;-) )  I’ve also been writing a rather large paper (it’ll end up being 25pgs probably)  for my Early Christianity class on Ignatius’ use of Paul, which has consumed lots of my writing energy.  On the plus side, I should be able to post more often now since things are slowing down *somewhat*.  I’ll likely blog portions of the essay I’ve been writing, which has been a blast so far.  I’m arguing that Ignatius’ understanding of martyrdom was shaped extensively by a “participatory” understanding of Paul.  Lot’s of good stuff :-)

more soon!

~alex

Participation in Paul: 1 Cor 6 and 7

~ Alex Poulos ~ 1 Comment

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

Good Ol’ Ignatius

~ Alex Poulos ~ 2 Comments

I’m currently planning an essay on Ignatius and his understanding of his martyrdom. I’m going to be defending him as an interpreter and imitator of Paul (and through this, Jesus), but it won’t always be easy. He makes very strong statements about his impending death:

“May I have the pleasure of the wild beasts that have been prepared for me; and I pray that they prove to be prompt with me. I will even coax them to devour me quickly, not as they have done with some, whom they were too timid to touch. And if when I am willing and ready and they are not, I will force them.” (Romans 5:2)

Not all of his statements about martyrdom are this strong, but still, yikes! It’s going to be fun writing this paper ;-)

~alex

Tertullian’s polemic

~ Alex Poulos ~ Leave a comment

His polemic is downright hilarious. Talk about argumentum ad hominem!

“[following a long diatribe the horrors of Pontus, the birthplace of early heretic Marcion] Nothing, however, in Pontus is so barbarous and sad as the fact that Marcion was born there, fouler than any Scythian … Marcion is more savage than even the beasts of that barbarous region. For what beaver was ever a greater emasculator of men than he who abolished the nuptial bond? What Pontic mouse ever had such gnawing powers as he who has gnawed the Gospels to pieces?“

On one hand, it’s sobering. On the other hand, it’s hilarious!

~alex