Paul and the Apocrypha

Some time ago, I was visiting the chapel of a young pastor in Detroit. On the wall of his sanctuary was a framed tractate that caught my attention, since it said something to the effect that the New Testament appealed only to the canon of the Hebrew Bible (the Christian Old Testament), but never to any of the works in the so-called Apocrypha. The point of this display was to underscore the legitimacy of the Protestant canon as opposed to the Roman Catholic and Eastern Orthodox canon of Old Testament Scriptures, both the latter of which recognize the Apocrypha as Scripture. While I am neither Roman Catholic nor Eastern Orthodox, it seems to me that this tractate said either too much or too little, too much if it intended that the New Testament writers never used the Apocrypha at all or too little if they did not take the trouble to even investigate the possibility. Now, I will frankly concede that there are no uncontested quotations from the Apocrypha in the New Testament, but it should at least be admitted that Paul (and others) on occasion appealed to ideas that were first expressed in the Apocrypha. A good example is Paul’s argument in Romans 1:20-29, where he states that a rudimentary knowledge of God is available from the created universe, and while not in itself redemptive, it is sufficient to render humans as without excuse when they rebel against it. 

Paul here seems to be drawing upon traditional Jewish theology, especially the apocryphal Wisdom of Solomon (13:5, 8-9, RSV). His language is too strikingly similar to this ancient text to be coincidental.

For from the greatness and beauty of created things comes a corresponding perception of their Creator. 

Yet again, not even they are to be excused; for if they had the power to know so much that they could investigate the world, how did they fail to find sooner the Lord of these things?

Later, in 9:20, Paul again probably alludes to the Wisdom of Solomon (12:12), when he says, “One of you will say to me, ‘Then why does God still blame us? For who resists his will?’”

             For who will say, ‘What hast thou done? Or who will resist thy judgment?

He goes on in 9:21, using the analogy of the potter, where God makes vessels for different reasons, some for noble purposes and some for common use. This analogy, also, has its parallel in the Wisdom of Solomon (15:7).

For when a potter kneads the soft earth and laboriously molds each vessel for our service, he fashions out of the same clay both the vessels that serve clean uses and those for contrary use, making all in like manner; but which shall be the use of each, of these the worker in clay decides.

In 2 Corinthians 5:1, 4, Paul uses the unusual metaphor describing the human body as a perishable tent, once again, echoing language from the Wisdom of Solomon (9:15).

…for a perishable body weighs down the soul, and this earthly tent burdens the thoughtful mind.

None of these allusions demonstrate beyond argument that Paul regarded the Wisdom of Solomon as Scripture, but at the same time, his usage of this intertestamental work does suggest that he valued it and thought it worth referencing. At the very least, no one makes allusions to literary works he hasn’t been reading!

St. Paul's "Other" Letters

Thirteen letters in the New Testament bear the name of Paul. However, they were not the only correspondence written by the great apostle-missionary. We know by his own words, for instance, that he wrote a letter to the Corinthians prior to what we know as 1 Corinthians (1 Co. 5:9). Between what we know as 1 Corinthians and 2 Corinthians, he also wrote what he describes as a “painful letter” to this same church (2 Co. 2:3-4), and this letter is unlikely to be 1 Corinthians. We know he also wrote a letter to the Laodecians (Col. 4:16). Some have speculated that it may have been what we know as Ephesians, based on the fact that our earliest copy of Ephesians (p46 ca. AD 200) as well as several other early manuscripts do not have the words “in Ephesus” in the Greek text. Indeed, I have personally examined p46 at the University of Michigan where it is housed in the Hatcher library, and indeed, this early papyrus copy is missing those words. The Ephesian letter may have been a circular letter to several congregations, but then again, Paul may have written to the Laodecians completely apart from what we know as Ephesians. Ephesians also contains the intriguing parenthetical statement, “as I wrote before in a few words”, which might refer to what he said earlier in the same letter but might also refer to some other letter he wrote. All these are phrases actually appear in Paul’s known letters, and it is certainly not a stretch to suppose that he may have written other letters of which we know nothing.

This, then, raises an interesting speculative question. Though by this late date it is unlikely, what if one or more of these other correspondences of Paul were discovered? Would we consider them canonical? Would they be of merely historical interest? I, for one, would be riveted by what other things he may have written, but at the same time, I would be doubtful about including them in the canon of the New Testament. I think the long canonical tradition of the church is better left undisturbed, and at a more theological level, I am content that the Holy Spirit has preserved through the vicissitudes of history those writings which were necessary. Still, it is an intriguing idea!

Paul's Form of Letter Writing

The Apostle Paul inherited—and modified—the practice and style of Hellenistic letter writing common to the Roman world of the first century.

I. Common Greek letters in the first-century CE were structured in three sections.

Introduction (prescript or salutation) including sender, addressee, greetings, and often additional greetings or wishes for good health.

Text or Body introduced with a characteristic introductory formula.

Conclusion including greetings, wishes, especially for persons other than the addressee, final greeting or prayer sentence, and sometimes dating.

Consider this typical example:

Irenaeus to Apollinarius his dearest brother many greetings. I pray continually for your health. And I myself am well. I wish you to know that I reached land on the sixth of the month and we unloaded our cargo on the eighteenth of the same month. The place welcomed us as the god willed, and we are daily expecting our discharge, it so being that up till today that nobody in the corn fleet has been released. Many salutations to your wife, and to Serenus and to all who love you, each by name. Goodbye.

Divergences from this style are few, but may include (1) more ornamented language, (2) more extensive expressions of relationship, and (3) multiplication of greetings.

The Greek letter was built around a previous relationship. Friendship or family relation was presumed by most private correspondence. Private letters presumed a reply in action or letter.

II. Paul's letters build on these standard letter-writing conventions.

Paul's letters fell well within these basic standard forms.

Remember: (1) Paul's letters were not simply private letters, but were written to communities of believers—to be read aloud—for their common life, and (2) Paul's letters must be understood by the "life situation" to which or about which he was writing. Each letter speaks to a specific sociological and historical situation.

Paul was rarely the sole author listed in his letters. Note the multiple authors:  I Corinthians with Sosthenes; II Corinthians, Philippians, Philemon, and Colossians with Timothy; and I and II Thessalonians with Timothy and Silvanus (probably Silas) .

The letters of Paul were the earliest Christian literature dating from approximately the middle of the first century. Paul's use of the letter-form was so effective that many other Christian leaders also began expressing themselves in this way. Also many copied Paul's specific style and vocabulary. (This imitation of Paul's style continued well beyond the apostolic age. Compare the letters of Ignatius and Clement in the second century.)

Paul's Modified Letter Form
 

1. Opening - Sender, addressee, and greeting—most often with multiple authors.
    
2. Thanksgiving or Blessing - Often with intercession and/or eschatological climax.
    
3. Body - Introductory formula, often with an eschatological conclusion and/or an indication of future plans.
    
4. Paraenesis - Ethical, edifying material often associated with moral instruction or preaching.
    
5. Closing - Benedictory formula and greetings. Sometimes mention of the writing process.

For more information, consult Stanley Stowers, Letter Writing in Greco-Roman Antiquity (Westminster, 1986) and William Doty, Letters in Primitive Christianity (Fortress, 1973).

Paul's Categories of Flesh and Spirit - Part 2 or 2

The opposite field of force is the realm of the Spirit, by which Paul means God’s Holy Spirit. The Spirit was the gift of the divine presence to believers (Ro. 8:15; 1 Co. 2:12; Ga. 3:2), an eschatological deposit in view of the things to come at Christ’s return (Ro. 8:23; 2 Co. 1:22; 5:5; Ep. 1:13-14). It was not merely phenomenological, producing periodic ecstasy, but functional, serving as a working dynamic in the daily lives of believers (Ro. 8:1-2, 5, 9, 13, 26-27; Ga. 5:22-25; Ep. 3:16-17). The work of the Holy Spirit was relational, which is what Paul intends by his use of the verb “to dwell” or “to live” (Ro. 8:9, 11; 1 Co. 3:16; 6:19; 2 Co. 6:16; Ep. 3:17; 2 Ti. 1:14). Such language is not intended to be spatial, as though the Spirit were a gas. Rather, in keeping with his Hebrew tradition, Paul uses concrete expressions to describe abstract realities.

For Paul, a spiritual person is one who cooperates with the dynamic inward work of the Spirit to produce maturity and godliness (1 Co. 2:14-15; 14:37-38; Ga. 5:22-23; 6:1). In fact, it is to the point that Paul can say that the Corinthians did not lack any spiritual gift (1 Co. 1:7) but at the same time describe them as worldly (1 Co. 3:1, 3). Spiritual phenomena did not equal spiritual maturity!

The polarity between flesh and Spirit—between weakness and power—becomes a daily challenge to Christians. To live “after the flesh” is to live in weakness and the susceptibility toward sin (Ro. 7:5, 18-20; 8:4-9). The appetites of the flesh are markedly different than the desires of the Spirit. The Christian, who both lives in the flesh but who is indwelled by the Spirit, cannot satisfy the desires of both (Ga. 5:17). One or the other must have ascendancy. The difference between being “in the flesh” and “in the Spirit” is not the difference between a higher nature and a lower nature, but rather, the difference between the self, in its weakness, and Christ, in his strength. It is the inadequacy of the creature as opposed to the complete adequacy of the Lord. The Spirit is the power-sphere of the new creation and the new age, while the flesh is the power-sphere of the old creation and the old age. Paul’s language of dynamis (= power) in this regard refers to being enabled by God to live above the weakness of the flesh by being filled with hope (Ro. 15:13; Ep. 1:18-19), wisdom (1 Co. 1:24), saving faith (1 Co. 1:17-18; 2:4-5), godliness (1 Co. 4:19-20), endurance (2 Co. 4:7-10; 12:9-10; 13:4; Col. 1:11) and love (Ep. 3:14-21).

Out of this tension between flesh and Spirit Paul offers his ethic of freedom. Christ has freed the believer from the power-sphere of sin that uses the weakness of the flesh as its tool (Ro. 8:2). He challenges the believer to fully live out this freedom (Ro.8:3-4; Ga. 5:13). Human volition plays a critical role in whether the believer exercises this freedom in order to rise above sin through Christ’s empowerment or falls back into fleshly living through the inadequacy of self (Ro. 8:6-8; 1 Co. 3:1-4; 2 Co. 10:4). True spirituality, of course, is not simply a matter of will power, but rather, a dependence on Christ’s power that gives freedom. Will power alone is only another expression of the flesh (Ro. 7:18b-20).

Paul's Categories of Flesh and Spirit - Part 1 of 2

One of the easiest subjects to misunderstand in Pauline theology is his flesh and spirit polarity. A common misconception is that by “flesh” Paul refers to the human lower nature, and by “spirit” he refers to the higher nature. This assumption seems to underlie the translation of sarx in the NIVs rendering of Paul’s letters. Though most standard English versions use the more literal translation of “flesh” (so KJV, RSV, ASV, NAB, NASB), the NIV opts for a dynamic equivalency and consistently renders it as “sinful nature” some twenty-four times, all but two of which are in the Pauline corpus. I must agree with Leander Keck when he says, “This is precisely what Paul does not mean!” To be sure, the Greek word sarx  (= flesh) carries several nuances. At the simplest level, it refers to the fleshly material that covers the bones of a human or animal, and at times it can serve as a synonym for the body itself. At other times, the word clearly has a more metaphorical meaning and approximates the mortality of humans. Translators who attempt to find dynamic equivalencies for this word in Paul offer two renderings, one that emphasizes the earthly, mortal nature of humans, and the other that seeks to make human flesh the locus of sin.

There is no doubt that in Paul there is a connection between flesh and sin, but just what is that connection? Paul says, for instance, that in our former life “in the flesh” our sinful passions were aroused and expressed, bearing fruit toward death (Ro. 7:5). He offers a long litany of sins that he labels the “acts of the flesh” (Ga. 5:19). After coming to Christ, believers no longer live “according to the flesh” (Ro. 8:4) even though they live “in the flesh” (Ga. 2:20). Nevertheless, Paul’s letters fall short of saying that the flesh is the actual locus of sin. Rather, he says that the flesh is the arena of human weakness, and because it is weak, it becomes the tool of sin (Ro. 8:3; cf. 7:11). Sin is successful because of the flesh’s weakness. It is the field of force—the weak field of force--in which sin operates.

Paul’s understanding of the flesh derives from the Hebrew tradition, where humans are a unity, rather than the Greek tradition, where humans are a dichotomy. Sarx, which follows the Hebrew basar (= flesh, body), is Paul’s way of characterizing the human self in distinction from God (cf. Is. 31:3; 40:6-8; Je. 17:5, etc.). Human beings are flesh, that is, they are transitory, mortal and finite. The flesh, in itself, is morally neutral. Of his own susceptibility to illness, Paul can say that this was a “weakness of the flesh” (Ga. 4:13; cf. 2 Co. 12:7). Of the normal troubles that all married couples face, Paul can say that these are “afflictions of the flesh” (1 Co. 7:28). Paul can speak of his “kinsmen according to the flesh” with no moral overtone (Ro. 9:3). He can speak of other people as creatures of “flesh and blood” with no moral overtone (Ga. 1:16). He can even speak of Christ in his incarnation as descended from David “according to the flesh”, but one should hardly wish to read that Christ was descended from David “according to the sinful nature” (Ro. 1:3; 9:5).  Hence, the flesh is the human self in all its powerlessness and limitation. In it, there is no power to do good (Ro. 7:18). In fleshly weakness, humans cannot please God (Ro. 8:8).

Krister Stendahl and the New Perspective on Paul

Long before E. P. Sanders stood the traditional understanding of first-century Judaism as a "religion of legalism" on its head in his Paul and Palestinian Judaism (1977), the late Krister Stendahl—professor at Harvard Divinity School and later Bishop of Stockholm in the Church of Sweden—had already laid the foundation for the New Perspective on Paul with his masterful essay, "The Apostle Paul and the Introspective Conscience of the West" (1963). [Most of us read this essay in the collection Paul Among the Jews and Gentiles (Fortress, 1976).]

Click here to download a copy of this important essay.

Against the longstanding (Augustinian-Lutheran) interpretation of Judaism as a "religion of legalism" which promoted self-righteous efforts to merit salvation before God through human good works, Stendahl—later followed by Sanders and the rest of the New Perspective on Paul writers—argued that Judaism was always (and still is) a religion of grace, faith, and forgiveness.

Nothing in the Hebrew scripture ever called humans to self-salvation—meritorious acts that would earn God's favor. Biblical religion was always a religion of covenant, rooted in the free, undeserved election of Israel by God. This covenant faith was structured by moral and purity laws and underpinned by a sacrificial system specifically designed to provide a means of atonement/forgiveness for men when they fell short of covenant obligations.

Specifically, Stendahl attacked the persistence of the guilty conscience in western culture rising from Augustine's (and furthered by Luther's) reading of Paul. Augustine saw Paul in Romans 7 as a man languishing in guilt, paralyzed by his moral shortcomings, and given to the "unrelenting introspection" that has come to characterize the western mind.

In contrast, Stendahl held that while Paul genuinely felt the weight of his chief sin—persecution of the church—he put any crippling guilt behind him and lived triumphantly in the grace and forgiveness of God. (Stendahl offers a parade of Paul's autobiographical statements to support his interpretation.) Romans 7, Stendahl shows, is part of Paul's larger argument about the role of the law in demonstrating the power of sin over "the flesh."

Paul happened to express this supporting argument [in Romans 7] so well that what to him and his contemporaries was a common sense observation appeared to later interpreters to be a penetrating insight into the nature of sin. (Mark A. Mattison, A Summary of the New Perspective on Paul)

Stendahl argues that Protestants should no longer assume Paul was battling against Jewish legalism—since Paul's opponents never taught that salvation was merited/earned by human works. Rather Paul and his "Judaizing" opponents both shared the Jewish religion rooted in grace, election, and covenant. Romans 7 must be understood as something other than a sinful man consumed and wallowing in his guilty conscience.

120 in an Upper Room on Pentecost

How many people were in the upper room on the Day of Pentecost (Acts 2:1-4)? Where was the crowd of diaspora Jewish pilgrims who heard these men and women speak in their own "native languages"? Where was Peter's Pentecostal sermon preached?

I have always been taught that 120 of Christ's disciples assembled in an upper (second-floor) room of a Jerusalem residence after the resurrection and ascension of Jesus and waited patiently there until they were filled with the Holy Spirit and spoke in other tongues (Acts 2:1-4).

But a closer look—and some practical thinking—undermines this picture. It is difficult to imagine a second-floor room of any first-century Jerusalem residence holding 120 occupants. It is equally curious how the "other languages" were heard by those outside the room—especially when the hearers swelled to a crowd. It is altogether impossible to believe that Peter's sermon addresses the crowd from within the confines of the upper room.

The problem here is the human tendency to run details together in adjacent sections of an episodic narrative. Remember, Acts is a continuation of the Gospel of Luke and follows the same presentation of events as discrete episodes that may or may not be connected in sequence, location, or time. The Gospel narratives offer a collection of episodes—no doubt arranged around the rough outline of the life of the historic Jesus.  These episodes sometimes abruptly shift in time and location, but more often, the episodes are delimited and tied together by clear transitional phrases that indicate (suggest) a change in time, location, or situation.

With this in mind, let's take a close look at Acts 1 & 2 and at our assumptions about when, where, and to whom the Pentecostal experience occurred.

Following the literary introduction of the book of Acts (Acts1:1-3) which ties the current volume to the earlier Lucan Gospel and the narrative to the passion of Jesus, Acts 1 & 2 divides into 7 distinct episodes, each beginning with a clear transitional phrase.

Acts 1:4-11 - The Ascension of Jesus (beginning with "on one occasion").

Acts 1:12-14 - Return of the Eleven to Jerusalem (beginning with "then"). Here the apostles (the Twelve minus Judas), Mary, the mother of Jesus, and the brothers of Jesus go to the second-story room of a Jerusalem residence which was probably where they had been staying since the resurrection of Jesus. This is probably fifteen or sixteen people.

Acts 1: 15-26 - The Election of Matthias (beginning with "in those days"). 120 people are present, but no location is specified. It is doubtful this occurred in the upper room of a residence since such a space would hardly hold 120 people.

Acts 2:1-4 - Spirit's Outpouring at Pentecost (beginning with "when the day was fully come"). The time is designated as early in the morning on the feast of Pentecost. The location is designated very loosely ("the house where they were sitting"). The NT word for house can refer to a residence, a public building, a sheltered area, etc. No indication is given of the number in attendance. (This is at least the following day—or perhaps several days after—the election of Matthias. Night has past and day has come.)

Acts 2:5-13 - Gathering of the Crowd Brought by the Public Display of Glossolalia (beginning with "now there were"). This appears to be a public place capable of holding a crowd. This is clearly a place where diaspora pilgrims would gather. There is certainly no indication that the crowd entered a room of any sort.  The best guess for the location would be the temple grounds on the feast day.

Acts 2:14-40 - Peter's Sermon (beginning with "then Peter"). This presentation assumes a public area large enough to hold the Jewish pilgrims at the feast. Again the temple grounds make the most sense.

Acts 2:41-47 - Author's Summary of the Aftermath/Results of Peter's Sermon. This section describes a period of time ("day by day") of public life in the temple and table fellowship in homes.

If we are to take these episodes seriously as separate events (some obviously in sequence), then there is no reason to conflate or "smudge" the details of the events together. There is no reason to assume that the 120 that elected Matthias were in the same upper room where the Eleven, Mary, and Jesus' brothers set up residence. There is certainly no reason to think that the Pentecostal experience took place in this same upper room to this same 120 people.

Don't get me wrong. I don't think this is a great interpretive insight. Neither would I even think about parting company over how the details of these stories are conflated.

But the consistent presentation of the "facts" that Spirit was poured out on 120 in the upper room on Pentecost bears witness to our tendency to "run together" the details of adjacent episodes in the Gospels and Acts. This calls us to a more careful and closer reading of these texts, taking seriously the literary conventions upon which they were built.