Paul's use of metaphor
From James D. G. Dunn, The Theology of Paul the Apostle 328ff
A fine exposé of the variety and necessity of metaphor, in Paul's writings.
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Paul draws on metaphors from the customs of
his time. "Justification" is a legal metaphor;
to be justified is to be acquitted. In
the same area we may note the image of expunging a record of debt
or criminal guilt (Col 2:14). "Redemption"
we have already looked at - the buying back of a slave or a war captive.
"Liberation" and freedom
were important words and, more to the point, were important experiences
for Paul and his converts. "Reconciliation"
we have also looked at above - the bringing together of two parties
at enmity with each other into a new peace and cooperation. Another is
the image of enjoying Citizenship, or community membership,
within but different from that of the surrounding city or region (Ph
3:20). The imagery of being transferred into another
kingdom in Col 1:13 probably reflects the origins of the Jewish
communities in Asia Minor, established by Antiochus the Great when
he settled two thousand Jewish families in Lydia and Phrygia to help
stabilize the region. Paul also draws on metaphors from everyday life. One of Paul's favourite terms is "salvation," which has become such an established technical term in theology that its force as a metaphor can easily be forgotten. Soteria ("salvation") would have been familiar in the sense of "rescue, a bringing safely or to safety." In a Jewish context, thought of the exodus from Egypt or the return from exile in Babylon would be prominent. But the term would no doubt have been familiar to Paul's readers also in the everyday sense of "bodily health, preservation." We have papyrus letters from the period in which the writer inquires anxiously about the soteria of children or friends. "Salvation" for Paul, we might say, denoted the wholeness of the healthy person. The metaphor of "inheritance"
is another crucial theme for Paul. Others occasionally used are the more humdrum metaphors of waking
up, night giving way to day, "putting off or on" clothes,
including putting on armour, receiving an invitation, and writing
a letter. Paul drew equally from agriculture - sowing and watering (1 Co 3:6-8), irrigation (1 Co 12:13c) 66 and the pitcher of water poured out (Rm 5:5), grafting (Rm 11:17-24), and harvest (Rm 8:23). Likewise from commerce. The "seal" stamped on an item was a visible mark of ownership. The arrabon constituted the first instalment and guarantee of what was still to come. The phrase "into the name of," used in baptism (1 Co 1:13-15), occurs frequently in papyrus records of transfer of ownership - equivalent to the modern signing of a cheque, whereby ownership of the funds stated is transferred "to the account of" the person named. The image of conveying is probably drawn upon in the term bebaiod, "confirm." Paul alludes with equal facility to the result of the process of refining - dokimos, "tested and approved" - and to building (1 Co 3:10-12). We should note that Paul also drew his images from religion. One of his favourite ways of referring to the members of his churches was as "saints" (hagioi), those who had been set apart and dedicated to the service of God. Here we note that while the noun hagiasmos ("sanctification") was used for the process of salvation, the verb in Paul usually denotes the beginning action, whereby individuals were set apart to discipleship. On one occasion he uses the related image of anointing (2 Co 1:21). We have already noted how important the metaphor of sacrifice is for Paul's understanding of the death of Jesus (§§9.2-3). Paul also uses the imagery of priestly service
for his own ministry, as indeed for all Christian commitment and other
acts of service in the gospel. All the justified have "access"
to the inner sanctum of the cult (Rm 5:2). Their bodies are themselves
temples enshrining God's presence. It
is noticeable, however, that he never uses the image of "priest"
as such, for his own work or for that of others. Most interesting is the way in which Paul, despite his strong hostility
to Gentile converts being circumcised, nevertheless transfers the
image "circumcision" to the event of the cross and its outworking.
Given the importance of ritual cleansing within
the Jewish tradition, it is not surprising that Paul draws on the
image of washing and purifying. It
is likely also that he used the Christian adaptation of this ritual
cleansing tradition (baptism) as a metaphor, powerful in its imagery
of plunging below the surface and emerging to a new life; 84 but the metaphorical force of this last usage is disputed. Nor should we forget the most powerful imagery
of all - that of "new creation." Finally in this brief categorization we can
refer to metaphors drawn from the major events of life. Paul
speaks of his own conversion as an "abortion" (1 Co 15:8),
of "becoming your [the Corinthians'] father through the gospel"
(1 Co 4:15), of giving birth to the Galatians (Ga 4:19), of the Galatians
as "born in accordance with the Spirit" (4:29). An important
alternative family image for Paul was that of adoption. Elsewhere he likens becoming a Christian to an engagement with
Christ (2 Co 11:2), and being a Christian to marriage with Christ
(1 Co 6:17). And not least of his powerful images is that of death,
likening the crucial transition to a dying, even a crucifixion. Two lines of reflection emerge from consideration of such a kaleidoscope of images. One is that these metaphors bring out the reality of the experience of the new beginning for Paul. Evidently they all described something in the experience of his readers with which they could identify. Something had happened in their lives, something of major importance. Underlying all these metaphors was some tremendously significant event, a turning point of great moment. One does not use images like birth, marriage, and death for everyday occurrences. They only function as images for events which are literally life-changing. This has a corollary worthy of some attention. For it means that many of Paul's first readers experienced the gospel as acceptance, or liberation, as cleansing and new dedication, as a dying to an old life and beginning of a new. There is little evidence that Paul preached for conviction of sin or to stir up feelings of guilt. Nevertheless, for so many of his converts the gospel was received and experienced as an answer to unresolved riddles, as a solution to their plight. In a word, Paul's gospel met real and felt needs. Second, the very different metaphors Paul drew upon were presumably attempts to express as fully as possible a reality which defied a simple or uniform or unifaceted description. There was something so rich and real in the various experiences of conversion which the gospel brought about that Paul had to ransack the language available to him to find ways of describing them. The vitality of the experience made new metaphors necessary if the experience was to be expressed in words (as adequately as that is possible) and to be communicated to others. This in turn points up another corollary of some interest. For the wide variety of metaphors presumably reflects a wide variety of experiences. Given that variety, it would be a mistake to take any one of Paul's metaphors and to exalt it into some primary or normative status so that all the others must be fitted into its mould. Something like this has indeed happened with the metaphor of justification in classic Protestant theology. In popular evangelism it has happened with the metaphors of salvation and new birth. In such cases there is an obvious danger. The danger is that the event of new beginning in faith comes to be conceptualized as of necessity following a particular pattern, the same for everyone. Equally dangerous is the assumption often made that the same language or imagery must always be used, that experience of individuals must conform to the language which describes it. Instead of diversity of experience and imagery there can be pressure to reduplicate both pattern and jargon, in effect to mass reproduce believers according to a standard formula. Not so with Paul. For him the crucial transition was a many-sided event, and not necessarily the same for any two people. And it required a whole vocabulary of words and metaphors to bring out the richness of its character and the diversity of individual cases. Underlying both lines of reflection is a more
fundamental point - the indispensability of metaphors
to express such experiences. We are familiar with the fact that rational
description is often inadequate to capture the real quality of aesthetic
or deeply moving experiences. The impact of a piece of music or the
distinctions among different wines can often be so intensely personal
and intangible as to be beyond communication in terms of logic. Still
more so with regard to experiences which are so life-transforming.
To attempt to dispense with metaphors or to reduce their poetry to
the prose of clinical analysis would be as great a disservice as any
that theology could be guilty of. Within this diverse way of speaking of the
crucial transition, however, there are three or four aspects which
deserve special mention, partly because they bring out the central
features of the new beginning for Paul and partly because of their
significance in the history of Christian theology. We will look at
them in turn: justification by faith (§14), participation
in Christ (§15), and the gift of the Spirit (§16). |