St Paul on Morality

ch. 8: "How Should Believers Live?"

Section 23. Ethical Principles

23.1 Indicative and imperative
23.2 Once more, the law
23.3 Faith and "the law of faith"
23.4 Spirit and "the law of the Spirit"
23.5 Christ and "the law of Christ"
23.6 Liberty and love
23.7 Traditional wisdom
23.8 Conclusions

Section 24. Ethics in practice

{page numbers in brackets} . Footnotes and bibliographies omitted

23.1 Indicative and imperative

A major feature of Paul's theology is his vigorous ethical concern. As a pastor as well as theologian, Paul was inevitably concerned with the outworking of his gospel - not only in terms of the beginning and process of salvation ( 13-19) and of communal worship and ministry (20-22) but also in terms of how believers should live. His letters bear witness to the depth of this concern. It has been traditional to divide his letters into two parts - the theological exposition followed by the practical application. And it is true that several of them reflect this sort of structure: "since it is the case that. . . , therefore. . . ." We need only think of the transition from chs. 11 to 12 in Romans, from chs. 4 to 5 in Galatians, or from chs. 2 to 3 in Colossians.

In fact, however, the "theology followed by application" dichotomy is misleading. Paul never spoke other than as a pastor. His theology was a living theology, a practical theology through and through.2 The application is inherent in the exposition itself, as we see, for example, implicitly in Romans {626} 1-2 and 4 and explicitly in Romans 6 and 8. Even more theoretical-sounding expositions, like Romans 9-11 and 1 Corinthians 15, had immediate practical consequences, not least for himself in one case (Rom. 11.13) and for all believers in the other (1 Cor. 15.29-34). Indeed, we can hardly avoid noting that all Paul's letters were motivated by ethical concerns. And some were almost entirely taken up with the issue of how his converts should conduct themselves (1 Corinthians being the most obvious example).

More characteristic, then, is the fact that Paul can sum up the double ("since ... therefore") aspect of his theology epigrammatically. For example: Rom. 6.4a-b - "So then we were buried with him through baptism into death, in order that, as Christ was raised from the dead through the glory of the Father, so we should walk in newness of life."

1 Cor. 5.7a-b (in reverse order) - "Cleanse out the old leaven ... as you [really] are unleavened." Gal. 5.1a-b - "For freedom Christ has set us free. Stand fast, therefore, and do not be subject again to a yoke of slavery." Gal. 5.13a-b- "For you were called to freedom, brothers; only not the freedom for opportunity to the flesh, but through love serve one another." Phil. 2.12-13 (in reverse order) - "So then, my beloved, . . . work out your own salvation with fear and trembling; for God is at work in you both to will and to work for his good pleasure." These epigrams visually express the Ineinander ("in-each-otherness") of Paul's theology and ethics.

Paul, of course, is entirely typical of all religions which seek not so much (or simply) to escape from the world but (also) to provide resources for living in the world. But the basic components and features of his theology underscore the degree of his commitment to a theological ethic. We may think not least of his concept of "body," with its emphasis on the corporeal and corporate, the embodied person as encounterable, in community and saveable precisely as embodied4 - in contrast to alternative ideas of salvation as the soul escaping from the material body as from a prison. The analysis of the human condition in terms of the perversion of desire in misdirected religion and self-indulgence (4-5) is immediately applicable as a critical warning to all human collaboration and contriving. And the metaphors of salvation, precisely as living metaphors, reflect the degree of Paul's rootedness in the real world (13.4). {p. 627}

Somewhat surprisingly, then, Paul's ethics have often been rather problematic for theologians. The last hundred years or so provide some instructive examples. Liberal Protestantism, in the wake of Emmanuel Kant, was deeply concerned with the question of moral living. Its reconstruction of the historical Jesus focused most characteristically on Jesus as the teacher of abiding moral values. The problem was that Paul, by contrast, was then depicted as the one who transformed the ethical teaching of Jesus into a religion of sacrifice and redemption, the very transformation which liberal Protestantism was trying to get beyond.5 Between the wars an existentialist theology was equally, though in a different way, concerned with day-to-day living.6 But the accompanying development of form criticism tended to promote the conclusion that Paul's paraenesis simply took over traditional material in conventional forms.

Similarly, in the present phase of Pauline studies, we could note on the one hand that the sociological perspective on Paul has also been motivated in part at least by a concern to see how Paul's teaching worked out in practice, given all that we now know about the society of Paul's day and the way social groups function in relation to each other. On the other hand, however, the accompanying growth of rhetorical analysis of Paul's letters ran into an immediate problem since, as Dieter Betz himself observed, "paraenesis plays only a marginal role in the ancient rhetorical handbooks, if not in rhetoric itself." Not least, and especially since we are using Romans as our template, it is worth observing that only fairly recently has Romans been recognized to be a real letter, dealing with real issues among the Roman congregations, and more than an exercise in dogmatics.

Despite such disincentives, there has been widespread agreement that Paul's ethics can be summed up under the rubric indicative and imperative. This is the major conclusion drawn by Victor Furnish in his survey of nineteenth- and twentieth-century attempts to interpret Paul's ethic, which then forms one of the {p. 628} controlling presuppositions of his own study: "the relation of indicative and imperative, the relation of 'theological' proclamation and 'moral' exhortation, is the crucial problem in interpreting the Pauline ethic."

This certainly chimes in with the structuring of Paul's theology in the present volume, which has throughout endeavored to reflect Paul's own structuring of his theology. Thus the indicative has had two key moments. The first, the Christ event, that is, the life, but particularly the death and resurrection, of Christ (8-11). The second, the beginning of salvation, that is, all that we have analyzed in ch. 5. Both moments are nicely caught in Rom. 6.4a, cited above. Correspondingly, the imperative can now be seen as one of two matching emphases, the two sets of present continuous tenses which match the once-for-all aorists of the beginning. The first emphasizes the sustaining grace (righteousness) of God, classically expressed in terms of sanctification, not to mention charism and sacrament. The second emphasizes the correlated human responsibility, the imperative. Both elements of the ongoing process are nicely caught by Phil. 2.12-13, also cited above. Using the same language, Phil. 1.6 and Gal. 3.3 also neatly summarize the two (divine and human) sides of the process of salvation. Phil. 1.6: "he who began in you a good work will bring it to completion up to the day of Christ Jesus." Gal. 3.3: "Are you so foolish? Having begun with the Spirit are you now made complete with the flesh?"

Directly relevant also is the eschatological tension, such an inescapable feature of the process of salvation, pf which Paul was all too conscious (18). For the already-not yet of life between the ages translates directly into the indicative and imperative of Paul's ethics. As we observed earlier ( 18.6 ), it is precisely his appreciation of the continuing power of sin and death and the continuing weakness of the flesh which makes Paul's ethic so realistic in {p. 629} what may realistically be expected from human individuals or institutions (the church not excluded). In the overlap of the ages all action is bound to be flawed in greater or less degree. As there is no possibility of complete perfection in this life, so Paul's experience of his churches will have shown him that there is little realistic possibility of a policy or a decision which is universally approved by fellow Christians. Compromise (Paul would probably have preferred to say principled compromise) is an unavoidable feature of ethical decisions for those living between the ages. It will be one of the chief tasks in section 24 to document how such compromise proved necessary, what it did not mean, and what it did involve in practice; or, alternatively expressed, how the realities of the "not yet" inevitably conditioned the ethical outwork-ings of the "already."

The point, widely agreed, then, is that the indicative is the necessary presupposition and starting point for the imperative. What Christ has done is the basis for what the believer must do. The beginning of salvation is the beginning of a new way of living. The "new creation" is what makes possible a walk "in newness of life." Without the indicative the imperative would be an impossible ideal, a source of despair rather than of resolution and hope. The imperative must be the outworking of the indicative. In Cullmann's words, "In primitive Christianity ethics without theology is absolutely inconceivable. All 'Ought' rests here upon an 'Is.' The imperative is firmly anchored in the indicative." Here again it is important to note that the eschatological motivation for Paul's ethics comes primarily from the already and not just the not yet.

At the same time the imperative needs also to be stressed. To reduce Paul's paraenesis to an afterthought is to misunderstand Paul's theology. The imperative is the inevitable outworking of the indicative. Without the imperative the Christian ceases to be a responsible person within church and world. Without the imperative the body of Christ ceases to grow to the maturity of Christ. The most common way of expressing the imperative is in the ancient words of Pindar, "Become what you are." The attempt thus to encapsulate {p. 630} the indicative/imperative so concisely is praiseworthy. Whether it sufficiently expresses the eschatological tension is another question. "Become what you are becoming" is probably a necessary if less elegant complementary formula, which catches the already-not yet of an exhortation like Rom. 6.11 more effectively. Or perhaps better still: "Work out what God has worked in you" and continues to work in you.

At all events it will be most convenient to reflect the indicative/imperative emphasis in our own discussion. This is best done by correlating the principles on which Paul's paraenesis is based with the three aspects of the crucial transition analyzed in ch. 5-justification by faith, participation in Christ, and the gift of the Spirit.24 As the preliminary discussion has already indicated, Paul's ethics grow immediately out of his gospel and express a direct continuity with it. In 23, then, we will focus on the principles of Paul's ethics, leaving 24 for a study of how his ethical teaching worked out in practice.

23.2 Once more, the law

There is, however, a major problem relating to Paul's ethics on which we have not yet touched. It is a problem which runs more deeply than the problem of relating indicative and imperative, a problem which has proved more troublesome and longer running than any other. It is, once again, the problem of the law, the law of Moses, the Torah. For the law obviously functioned in the religion of historic Israel in the equivalent role to Paul's paraenesis in his letters. In Israel's covenant theology, the law was Israel's part of the agreement, the directions for Israel's response to the electing grace of God. As Paul passed from indicative to imperative, so in effect does the Torah. Or as we might say, the Torah/Pentateuch was gospel before it was law. And yet Paul seems to set law and gospel in such sharp antithesis, and subsequently the gospel/law antithesis came to epitomize so much that was fundamental in Reformation theology. So much so that there is a widespread impression that a continuing place for the law or the {p. 631} scriptures in Paul's ethics would have been inconceivable - particularly for Gentile converts.

The new perspective on Paul, however, has raised afresh the question of whether Paul's critique of the law was not in fact more carefully targeted. And that is just what we have found in our two previous sorties into this arena. Paul's critique of the law was primarily directed against its abuse by sin, and against his fellow kinsfolk's assumption that the law's protection continued to give them before God a distinctive and favoured position over the other nations, which they were responsible to maintain as such. If this is the case, and if the gospel/law contrast in Paul is not so sweeping, then once again the question of a continuing function of the law in directing Christian conduct is posed. Are the other functions of the law - defining sin and condemning transgression28 - still in operation for believers? Alternatively posed, if "covenantal nomism" has such a Christian character, then does it not follow that Paul's ethics are themselves a kind of covenantal nomism?29

The debate can be nicely focused around three phrases used by Paul in Romans and Galatians - "the law of faith" (Rom. 3.27), "the law of the Spirit" (Rom. 8.2), and "the law of Christ" (Gal. 6.2).30 The question, of course, is whether nomos can be properly translated "law" in all these passages and whether the positive affirmation expressed in each phrase can be credited to "the law." The fervour with which these questions are contested sheds quite an illumination on the correlation between the context in which questions are posed and the answers proffered, and on the theological presuppositions and sensitivities involved. For at this point a curious division among commentators becomes apparent. On the one hand, those who approach the issue from the standpoint of ethics have tended to find little difficulty in seeing a reference to "the law" in the "law of" phrases. But those who approach the issue from a study of Paul and the law have tended to find the idea that Paul spoke thus so positively of "the law" scarcely conceivable. {p. 632}

To illustrate. On the one hand, we find Victor Furnish readily concluding that both "the law of the Spirit of life" and "the law of Christ" refer to "the sum and substance of the law of Moses." Eduard Lohse likewise refers to the three "law of" phrases in terms of "the original significance of the Torah," enabling the law "once again [to] serve its original purpose of testifying to the 'holy, just and good will of God' (Rom. 7.12)." Wolfgang Schrage's discussion is similarly brief and likewise takes it for granted that "the law of Christ" refers in some way to the Torah. And Rudolph Schnackenburg follows the regular course of identifying "the law of Christ" with the love commandment as the "fulfilling of the law" (Rom. 13.10), though with some greater circumspection.

In contrast, where the focus has been on the issue of Paul and the law, these same references have been seen as particularly problematic. Coming at them from the more characteristic antithesis between law and gospel (as it has been traditionally perceived), the tendency has been to assume either that a different law must be in view or that the term nomos should not be translated "law." Thus, for example, in the most recent round of discussion, Stephen Westerholm argues that for Paul the law of Moses has been replaced by the Spirit, not by another law, and deduces that the phrase "law of Christ" "is used loosely, by analogy with the Mosaic code, for the way of life fitting for a Christian." And Frank Thielman argues that "the law of faith," "the law of the Spirit" is a different law from the law of Moses; it refers to Christ's atoning work - "the new covenant established by the sacrifice of Christ." The most significant and influential alternative, however, has been posed in the work of Heikki Räisanen. He has argued that nomos in the two key Romans passages (3.27; 8.2) should be regarded as a wordplay and in the key phrases should be translated as "order of faith," "order of Spirit." So too with Gal. 6.2, he thinks that nomos "is being used in a loose sense, almost metaphorically, much as it is used in Rom. 3:27 or 8:2. To fulfil the nomos of Christ is simply to live the way a life in Christ is to be lived (T) he 'law' of Christ is not literally a law." {p. 633}

Illuminating as this division of opinion is, it would be a mistake to concentrate the discussion of the possible continuing relevance of the Mosaic law for Paul's paraenesis solely on the three "law of" phrases. As we shall see, when we examine them for ourselves, they do indeed pose the larger issues rather effectively. But to focus attention on the "law of" phrases as such would be misleading and could skew the discussion too much, not least by making it overly dependent on contested exegesis. However, we have already suggested that the fundamental principles of Paul's ethic can be summed up in terms which directly reflect the emphases of his gospel -justification by faith, participation in Christ, and the gift of the Spirit. It is unlikely to be a coincidence that the three "law of" phrases match these emphases so closely - "law offaith," "law of Spirit," and "law of Christ." Consequently, although it will be important to summarize Paul's ethical principles simply as "faith," "Spirit," and "Christ," it will also be quite appropriate to include discussion of the corresponding "law of" phrase under each head. As we shall see, the value of the three matching "law of" phrases is that they indicate in a particularly striking way the fact that Paul saw these three emphases (faith, Spirit, Christ) as equally the key to the righteousness of ethics as to the righteousness offered in the gospel.

23.3 Faith and "the law of faith"

Faith in the Pauline letters is usually thought of more or less exclusively as a soteriological concept, the means through which individual and church receive the saving grace of God. The dominance of the formula "justification by faith" in discussions of Paul's theology has helped reinforce that impression. As indeed Paul's own use of the term, so heavily concentrated as it is in his own discussions of justification. In fact, however, faith is just as important in Paul as an ethical concept, as that out of which believers live. It could hardly be otherwise, since for Paul faith is the human response to all divine grace, the junction box, as it were, through which the transforming power of God flows into and through the life of individual and church. The point can be documented without difficulty.

It is a striking and insufficiently noted fact that Paul's first and last references to faith in Romans41 carry precisely the connotation of a means to {p. 634} responsible living. Paul introduces himself in Rom. 1.5 by describing the purpose of his apostleship as "for the obedience of faith." The term "obedience" (hypakoê) was a little-known word at Paul's time. But its establishment in Christian terminology may be yet another case of a term which Paul in particular brought into active service through his theology. Its derivation from the verb "hear" (akouô) means that it retains the richer meaning of the Hebrew shama', "hear (responsively) "- "obedience" as responsive hearing. "The obedience of faith," then, characterizes faith as not merely receptive but also responsive. If the briefer form, akoe pisteôs, signifies "hearing with faith," the fuller form, hypakoê pisteôs, signifies the response which such hearing inevitably produces. By implication, that response is given not only in the immediate act of commitment, but in the obedience which follows. Paul would not have cherished the image of believer as "slave" if he had not also embraced its corollary: the slave obeys.

The final threefold reference to faith in Romans (14.22-23) is particularly illuminating:

The faith which you have keep to yourself before God. Happy is the person who does not condemn himself by what he approves. But the person who doubts is condemned if he eats, because it is not of faith (ek pisteôs). Everything which is not of faith (ek pisteôs) is sin.

This comes towards the conclusion of Paul's exhortation regarding divisive dietary practices. "The faith" in view is evidently, as usual in Paul, trust or reliance on God, but here with particular reference to the individual's practice on this issue (whether one should eat only vegetables or is free to eat anything).50 Paul thinks of faith as varying in strength from believer to believer {p. 635} - hence the "weak in faith" (14.1) and the "strong (in faith) " (15.1).51 But the faith always has the same character. The point for us here is twofold. First, that it is this faith which determines the individual's conduct. Paul here emphasizes its personal and private character: one should not make a public display of the depth of one's trust in God (14.22a). Second, that this faith is the benchmark and monitor for conduct, not least on delicate or divisive issues. Conduct should be in accord with that faith. That is, it should grow out of that relationship of trust in God and should express that trust. To act in a way which contradicts that basic trust is, almost by definition, an act of self-condemnation (14.22b-23a).52 Indeed, any conduct which does not emerge from and express that basic trust in God (ek pisteôs) is sin (14.23b).

This ties in immediately to Paul's earlier analysis of the human condition. For if we are right, Paul's diagnosis of the human malaise is based on an understanding that the Creator created human beings for a creaturely relationship with the Creator. At the root and heart of human sin and unrighteousness is the failure to acknowledge God as God (1.21) and to live out of that which God has provided. But this is just another way of saying "faith." Adam failed because he did not believe God, did not trust God to be faithful to the Creator's responsibilities. And here again Abraham provides a contrasting model not just of saving faith but of creaturely faith: he believed in God "who gives life to the dead and calls things which have no existence into existence" (4.17).54 What is in view once again is not just a once and for all act of believing, but an ongoing relationship which embraces the whole of living, where faith is the "port" through which the power of life flows.

This understanding of faith ties in also with what we found regarding justification in particular. For in 14 we noted that God's righteousness should not be thought of simply as a once-for-all act in regard to the believer, but also as God's sustaining and finally vindicating grace. It is this recognition which enables us to integrate Paul's teaching on justification with the otherwise puzzling talk of being counted righteous at the final judgment in 2.12-16. {p. 636}

For then the relationship of righteousness through faith can be seen more clearly to include the conduct which flows from faith ("the obedience of faith"); and judgment "according to works" can be seen to correlate with justification through faith.

Moreover, it would not be inappropriate to observe that the concept of covenant righteousness in the scriptures had an integrally horizontal as well as vertical dimension. This is symbolized by the fact that the Ten Commandments included both tables - responsibility to others as well as to God. And it is expressed both by the characteristic religious concern for the widow, the orphan, the stranger, and the poor58 and by the repeated warnings of the prophets that religious and social obligation are inextricably linked. Paul himself does not develop the point, but since his own concept of righteousness is so much determined by the scriptural concept, it is probably implicit in his fuller theology of righteousness through faith, as his reference to the collection as "the harvest of righteousness" (2 Cor. 9.10) indicates.

If we broaden the scope for a moment to include Paul's other main treatment of justification by faith, two passages are worthy of particular note. In Gal. 2.20 Paul describes himself as "living by faith in the Son of God." Since the context contrasts a lifestyle determined by works of the law (2.11 -18; 3.2, 5),62 Paul was certainly thinking of daily living. He lived his life in and by faith. The attached formula ("who loved me and gave himself for me") probably implies that Paul saw Jesus' life pattern as the pattern for his own living. To live by faith in the Son of God means to live out of the resources given by the Son of God and out of the motivation inspired by the Son of God's self-giving.

At least some confirmation for such an inference is provided by Gal. 5.6

-"in Christ Jesus neither circumcision counts for anything, nor uncircumci- sion, but faith operating effectively64 through love." Again the contrast is with a lifestyle characterized by circumcision and determined by the entire law (5.3). Faith contrasts with this by providing a different motivation and means for living

-"faith operating effectively through love." Circumcision -> entire law is answered by faith -> love. We should beware of letting the two concepts stand {p. 637} apart, as though faith were the beginning and love the outcome. The phrase is more like a single concept - faith-through-love, love-energized-faith - as the close association of the two elsewhere in Paul also suggests. This is not to imply (to use the terminology of later centuries) that Paul turned faith into a "work" or compromised the sola fide. On the contrary, it is a matter of recognizing how thoroughly the sola fide ran throughout Paul's theology - throughout his ethics as well. For it is precisely faith as complete reliance on and openness to God's grace which (inevitably) comes to expression in love. It is precisely this faith working through love which bridges the whole sweep of justification by faith, from the righteousness already received through faith (3.6-9) to the righteousness not yet experienced but eagerly awaited (5.5).

The reminder provided by Gal. 2.17-21 and 5.2-6 that Paul is generally remembered as one who set faith and law in antithesis raises the other major but teasing problem. Can we, should we, draw in the first of the "law of" phrases used by Paul at this point- "(the) law of faith" (Rom. 3.27) ? In citing the passage again it is important to continue the quotation to the end of the chapter - 3.27-31:67

27Where then is boasting? It has been excluded. By what kind of nomos? Of works? No, on the contrary, by the nomos of faith. 28For we reckon that a person is justified by faith, apart from works of the nomos. 29Or is he God of Jews only? Is he not also God of Gentiles? Yes, of Gentiles too, } 30since, after all, "God is one," who will justify circumcision from faith and uncircumcision through faith. 31Do we then make the nomos invalid through faith? Not at all. On the contrary, we establish the nomos.

In the light of our previous discussion Paul's line of argument is clear. By the "nomos of works" Paul must mean the Torah understood in terms of the works it required of Israel. The nomos of works did not exclude the boasting of 2.17-23 (3.27). On the contrary, it was just this narrow understanding of Torah/nomos which carried with it the corollary: God is God of Jews only (3.29). But since that corollary is false (as the Shema confirms - 3.29-30), the premise is also false: to understand nomos in terms of works is to misunderstand it. The line of connection is given rather by faith, since the God of all deals with all in terms of faith (3.30). So faith does not render the {p. 638}

nomos invalid. Rather, it establishes the nomos (3.31). It does not require much literary skill to recognize that 3.31 thus completes the line of argument begun in 3.27, with faith-established nomos answering to the "nomos of faith." 3.31 is in effect Paul's answer to his opening question: "by what kind of nomos is boasting excluded?" Paul's answer is, "By the nomos of faith," that is, the nomos established by faith. The two nomoi are one and the same.

Moreover, Paul's argument would lose its coherence were the nomos on each occasion to be understood as other than the law/Torah. For the question of law and faith is posed in 3.31 precisely because the rebuttal of "the law of works" might seem to leave no positive role for the law. Paul's concern, therefore, was precisely to reaffirm that faith and law were not at odds: the law is not to be understood in terms of works; but it can and should be understood in terms of faith. Consequently, faith did not render the law invalid; on the contrary, it established the law. In short, Paul could speak of "the law of faith" because he believed that faith established the law.

The conclusion is strengthened by the similar line of thought in 9.30-32:

30What then shall we say? That Gentiles who do not pursue righteousness have attained righteousness, the righteousness which is from faith, 31whereas Israel pursuing the nomos of righteousness has not reached the nomos. 32Why so? Because they did so not from faith but as if it were from works.

To be noted here is a point whose significance is often missed: that Paul can speak of Israel "pursuing the nomos of righteousness" and failing to reach that nomos. If it was not sufficiently clear that the law, the Torah, was in view, the issue is put beyond doubt by the continuing exposition through 10.4-5.72 The point for us is twofold. First, Paul refers to the law in a wholly positive way: Israel pursued the law, and it was a good and proper goal to pursue - {p. 639} "the law of righteousness." The entirely positive term "righteousness" can be complemented or expanded as "the law of righteousness." Israel failed to reach that law, but no criticism of the law is contained in that conclusion. Second, Israel's mistake was not in pursuing the law, but that they did so wrongheadedly. They did so as though the goal were to be achieved in terms of works, whereas it could only be achieved "from faith." Israel did not reach the law. Why? Because they pursued the law of righteousness not from faith but as if it were from works. Here, then, is simply an alternative way of putting the key phrase: the law pursued in terms of faith is another way of saying "the law of faith."(tm)

Further confirmation comes from the continuation of the argument begun in Rom. 9.30. For in Rom. 10.6-8 Paul deliberately chose to use Deut. 30.12-14 to expound what he understood by "the righteousness from faith." But Paul would be all too well aware that Deut. 30.11-14 is all about how easy it is to obey the law.

"Surely this commandment that I am commanding you today is not too hard for you, nor is it far away. It is not in heaven, that you should say, "Who will go up to heaven for us, and get it for us that we may hear it and observe it?" Neither is it beyond the sea, that you should say, "Who will cross to the other side of the sea for us, and get it for us so that we may hear it and observe it?" No, the word is very near to you; it is in your mouth and in your heart so that you may observe it.

In Romans 10, however, Paul takes this passage and expounds it in reference to "the word of faith" (10.8). The point is that this exposition should not be seen as totally wrenching the passage away from its original sense. Paul was certainly not setting the word of faith and the law as such in antithesis. Certainly he contrasts the word of faith and the law understood {p. 640} "as if it were from works" (9.32; 10.5); but not the word of faith and "the law of righteousness" understood "from faith" (9.32; 10.6). Had Paul been intending to drive a wedge between the law spoken of in Deut. 30.11-14 and the word of faith, his use of the passage in this way would have left his exposition vulnerable to outright dismissal. On the contrary, his very use of it confirms that for Paul the word of faith was indeed that law understood aright.

The conclusions seem to be clear. (1) The law for Paul retained its function as a measure of righteousness. But (2) that measure could only be "attained" through faith. Only a living in faith and out of faith before God constituted the righteousness for which God looked. As already noted, Abraham provided the great model of what such faith involved (4.18-21). Paul clearly intended that he should: Romans 4 is obviously set up to illustrate faith-establishing law, "the law of faith" (3.31). In other words, faith for Paul meant complete trust in God, like Abraham's, total reliance on God's enabling. That was the root of obedience for Paul. Unless obedience sprang from that, it was misdirected. The "obedience of faith" is that obedience which lives out of the sort of trust and reliance on God which Abraham demonstrated.

The law of faith, then, is the law in its function of calling for and facilitating the same sort of trust in God as that out of which Abraham lived. This is not a reference only to sections or parts of the law but describes the function of the law as a whole. Thus we can recognize the criterion by which Paul judged the relevance of the law as a whole and in any of its particulars. Whatever commandment directed or channeled that reliance on God or helped bring that reliance to expression in daily living was the law still expressive of God's will. Conversely, whatever law required more than faith, whatever commandment could not be lived out as an expression of such trust in God alone, whatever ruling hindered or prevented such faith, that was the law now left behind by the coming of Christ. With the gospel now making it possible for all to express such faith in God through believing in Christ, the law which was understood to demand more than that faith was in fact the enemy of that faith and should be regarded as redundant. We should presumably add that in the continuing overlap of the ages, so long as sin and death still retain any power (18), Paul would no doubt continue to recognize that the good purpose of the law for life can still be perverted into a force for death (Rom. 7.7-11).{p. 641}

In short, faith in God (in and through Christ) was for Paul as much the basis for and means to right living as it was for and to being "righteoused" (justified). This creaturely trust in and reliance on God could be expressed as "the law of faith" in that it is only living out this trust which produces the quality of living before God and for others which the law was originally intended to promote. To require more than that trust, to insist on a particular outworking of that faith, would repeat the old failure with regard to the law, to transpose the law of faith into the law of works. It is the naked faith of Abraham which both receives the promise and sustains the daily outworking of self-disinterested love.

23.4 Spirit and "the law of the Spirit"

The most striking of Paul's ethical injunctions is undoubtedly the call to "walk by the Spirit." In the great Spirit chapter (Romans 8) the early description of Christians is of those "who walk not in accordance with the flesh but in accordance with the Spirit" (Rom. 8.3). Earlier he had talked in equivalent terms of the believers' obligation to "walk in newness of life" (6.4). The intervening 7.6 bridges the two passages in its expectation that Christians would "serve in newness of Spirit and not in oldness of letter." Similarly in Galatians Paul sums up his exhortation in the half-command, half-promise, "Walk by the Spirit and you will not satisfy the desire of the flesh" (Gal. 5.16). Another point of correlation between Romans and Galatians is Paul's description of believers as "those who are led by the Spirit." And a few verses further on in Galatians Paul shows just how clearly he correlated beginning with the Spirit and the continuing ethical obligation on believers by urging, "If we live by the Spirit, let us also follow80 the Spirit" (5.25). Clearly, this is the paraenetical equivalent of the soteriological concern expressed in 3.3: those who "have begun with the Spirit" can only be "made complete" with the Spirit. That we are here in touch with a regular line of development in Pauline paraenesis is confirmed by the further parallel between Gal. 6.8 and Rom. 8.13. Gal. 6.8: "Those who sow to their own flesh reap corruption; but those who sow to the Spirit shall from the Spirit reap eternal life." Rom. 8.13: "If you live in accordance with the flesh, you {p. 642} will certainly die; but if by the Spirit you put to death the deeds of the body, you will live."

The metaphor of daily conduct as the "walk" of life is untypical of Greek thought, but characteristically Jewish. Paul uses the idiom frequently, and his very use indicates the continuing Hebraic cast of his ethical thinking. Expressed quite as abruptly as such exhortations are, however, they can easily be read as encouragement to a spontaneous or charismatic or "situation ethic." Moreover, when we recall the antithesis between Spirit and gramma ("letter"),85 and equate gramma with the law, it can readily be concluded that Paul's Spirit ethic is set in antithesis to and as a replacement for Israel's Torah ethic. It is important, therefore, to be clear what is involved in Paul's Spirit ethic.

We do well to begin by recalling the moral seriousness of Israel's scriptures. For it is there that we first encounter a healthy recognition that the law could be treated in a superficial way. We need only recall the repeated warnings of the great eighth-century prophets that mere observance of festival and fast was a totally inadequate way of keeping the law. Paul's own warning that "not the hearers of the law are righteous before God, but the doers of the law shall be counted righteous" (Rom. 2.13) is in fact thoroughly characteristic of scriptural and Jewish concerns. Paul, in other words, was by no means the first Jew to make distinctions among attitudes to the law or among different "levels" of law-keeping.

One of the most potent ways in which this scriptural and Jewish concern was expressed was in the recognition that the law must penetrate to the heart. The obedience to the law for which Yahweh looked was obedience from the heart. Thus, for example, the repeated call to "circumcise the foreskin of your heart," and the promise that "the Lord your God will circumcise {p. 643} your heart and the heart of your descendants, so that you will love the Lord your God with all your heart. . ." (Deut. 30.6). The most famous expressions of this hope are, of course, the prophecies of the new covenant in Jer. 31.31-34 and of a new heart in Ezek. 36.26-27.

The point for us here is that for Paul this hope was fulfilled in the gift of the Spirit. This in fact is evidently what Paul had in mind in his distinction between gramma and Spirit.

Rom. 2.28-29 - "The true Jew is not the one visibly marked as such, nor circumcision that which is performed in the flesh, but one who is so in a hidden way, and circumcision is of the heart, in Spirit and not in letter."

2 Cor. 3.3, 6 - "You show that you are a letter of Christ. . . written not with ink but with the Spirit of the living God, not on tablets of stone but on tablets of human heart ... [so that we are] ministers of a new covenant, not of letter but of Spirit."

When we recall our earlier finding that gramma in Paul's usage is not simply synonymous with "law," but denotes the law understood too narrowly (in distinctive ethnic terms),90 the point becomes clear. These passages express Paul's conviction that in the gift of the Spirit the earliest Christians had experienced the hoped-for circumcision of the heart of Deuteronomy, the hoped-for new covenant of Jeremiah, and the hoped-for new heart and new spirit of Ezekiel. That presumably is why Paul was prepared to express himself with astonishing boldness at just this point: "It is we who are the circumcision, who worship in the Spirit of God and boast in Christ Jesus and have no confidence in the flesh" (Phil. 3.3).

The point can be pursued further. For it is important to recall that the hope which Paul saw as thus fulfilled in the Spirit was not hope for another law or a different Torah. The fulfilment of that earlier hope had not been perceived as dispensing individuals or communities from keeping the law. On the contrary, the hope was for a means to a more effective keeping of the law. Only a circumcision of the heart would enable an adequate keeping of the law (Deut. 30.8-10). Contrary to popular opinion, the promise of a new covenant in Jeremiah is not of a new or different law. The promise is plain: "I will put my law within them, and I will write it on their hearts" (Jer. 31.33). Likewise the new heart and spirit promised in Ezekiel has in view a more effective keeping of the law: "I will put my spirit within you, and make you {p. 644} follow my statutes and be careful to observe my ordinances" (Ezek. 36.27). It is this hope, precisely this hope, which Paul claims to have been fulfilled in the gift of the Spirit to those who put their faith in Messiah Jesus. The coming of Christ and of faith in Christ had brought emancipation from the law in its temporary, constrictive function (Gal. 3.19-4.7).93 That was still the case. But nothing that Paul says indicates that for him Christ had brought emancipation from the law as God's rule of right and wrong, as God's guidelines for conduct.

It is from the same sequence of Pauline thought that our second ' 'law of' phrase emerges, "the law of the Spirit." It appears as part of Paul's defence of the law in Rom. 7.7-8.4. There, as we have seen, Paul defends the law by portraying it as the dupe of sin. And his defence proceeds by showing that both the human "I" and the law itself are split. It is at this point that the controversial second "law of" phrase enters the exposition: "the law of the Spirit of life in Christ Jesus has set you free from the law of sin and death" (Rom. 8.2). Here, as with "the law of faith," most commentators find it impossible to think that Paul should refer to the law, the Torah, in such a positive way. How could Paul, after describing the law as a power for death, from which believers had been released (7.5-6), now describe it as "the law of the Spirit of life"? How, above all, could he attribute to the law the decisive role in liberating believers from the law?95 The answer, once again, would be to read here a play on the word nomos, and to understand it again as "rule" or "principle."

Once again, however, such a reading simply undermines the flow of Paul's argument in Rom. 8.2-4:

2The law of the Spirit of life in Christ Jesus has set you free from the law of sin and death. 3For what the law was unable to do in that it was weak through the flesh, God sent his own Son in the very likeness of sinful flesh . . . and condemned sin in the flesh, 4in order that the requirement of the law might be fulfilled in us who walk not in accordance with the flesh but in accordance with the Spirit.

To be noted is the way in which reference to the law is woven throughout these three verses. In fact, this passage is nothing other than the climax of {p. 645}

Paul's defence of the law, which began in 7.7. In the flow of the argument, "the law of sin and death" (8.2) is surely intended as shorthand for the law abused and misused by sin to bring about death (as described in 7.7-13).97 The law weakened through the flesh (8.3) is the good law of God, but defeated by the combination of sin's power and the weakness of the similarly divided "I." But what then of the law freed, like the "I," from the power of sin and death? This indeed is the most obvious way to take the phrase "the law of the Spirit of life" - that is, as a reference to the law in its capacity as the law of God, but no longer caught in the nexus of human weakness and sin's power, the law freed from the power of death to serve again as a rule of life (7.10).98 The law is "spiritual" (pneumatikos - 1.14) because it can be a vehicle or instrument of the Spirit (pneuma). As 3.31 answers to 3.27," so 8.2 answers to 7.14. "The law of the Spirit," in other words, is one of the ways in which Paul refers to what we might call the positive side of the divided law.

Perhaps most striking of all, the purpose for which God sent his Son is explicitly stated as to bring about the fulfilment of the law's requirement (8.4). For Paul, the objective of God's saving action in Christ was to make possible the keeping of the law! What has made the difference, and what has defeated the power of sin and the weakness of the flesh? The Spirit. "The requirement of the law [is] fulfilled in us who walk not in accordance with the flesh, but in accordance with the Spirit" (8.4). It would appear, then, that "the law of the Spirit" is simply a summary way of{p. 646} speaking of the requirement of the law fulfilled by those who walk by the Spirit. 103

In short, it is precisely as "the law of the Spirit," the law understood as guidelines for Spirit-directed conduct, the law thus freed from the misconceptions which gave the power of sin such leverage, and from the weakness of the flesh which so disempowered it, that the law can be experienced as a liberating power, as a law for living. It is the law thus rightly perceived and experienced which sets free from "the law of sin and death."

And what does this mean in practice for Paul?105 Paul presumably had in mind a conduct informed and enabled out of a direct and immediate apprehension of the divine will. This is already implied in his earliest letter: "you yourselves are being taught by God to love one another" (1 Thes. 4.9).

More striking is the contrast he draws in Romans itself. On the one hand stands the claim to know God's will, as part of the Jewish boasting of which he disapproves - Rom. 2:18:

you are called a "Jew" and rely on the law and boast in God, and know his will (to thelema) and approve things that matter (dokimazeis ta diapheronta), being instructed from the law.

On the other stands the knowing of God's will which comes from the renewed mind - 12:2: Do not be conformed to this age, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, so that you may ascertain what is the will of God (eis to dokimazein hymas ti to thelêma tou theou). {p. 647}

Here the contrast is between an obedience instructed by the law and an obedience instructed by the renewed mind. But it is obviously equivalent to the contrast between the law of sin preventing the will of God and the law of the Spirit enabling its fulfilment.

The same point is made, in related terms, though again without specific reference to the Spirit as such, in Paul's prayer in Phil. 1.9-10: "This I pray, that your love may overflow more and more with knowledge and full insight so that you may determine what really matters (eis to dokimazein hymas ta diapheronta)." What Paul had in mind is what Oscar Cullmann expressed as "the capacity of forming the correct ethical judgment at each given moment," 108 that is, the sense or instinct for what is right and appropriate in any given situation. This capacity to discern "what is really important" is also to be regarded as a gift or enabling of the Spirit. For Paul this knowledge of God's will was not something which could be read off from a law code or rulebook. It required much more spiritual (Spirit-enabled) sensitivity - what Col. 1.9-10 speaks of as "spiritual (pneumatike) wisdom and understanding." And yet in so saying, Paul had the same objective in mind as the law - the doing of God's will. So once again we can say that Paul wanted what God had intended in giving the law: that God's will be done. The law of God and the Spirit of God had the same objective, however much it had been thwarted and corrupted in the former case.

We should also note the link between "the law of the Spirit" and "the law of faith." In both cases Paul presumably used the term "law" because he {p. 648} wanted to underline the vital importance of doing, obeying God's will. And in both cases the qualifier ("of faith," "of the Spirit") indicates in a summary way how that obedience is made possible. In Paul's solution to the problem of human weakness and sin's power, faith and Spirit are the two sides of the same coin. The human trust is met by the power of the Spirit. The obedience that God looks for and makes possible is, in a phrase, human responsiveness (faith) to divine enabling (Spirit).

To formulate the point from a slightly different angle, both phrases, "the law of faith" and "the law of the Spirit," can be defined by their contrasting phrases. As the law of faith is different from the law understood in terms of works, so the law of the Spirit is different from the law understood as gramma ("letter"). Both "works" and "letter" emphasize the visible, public character of what is being required and done. In that situation the tendency or danger is always for that visible element to become the dominant feature of the obedience so expressed and for the obedience to become divorced from obedience from the heart. As one who believed that he himself had formerly succumbed to that danger, Paul emphasized the law of faith and the law of the Spirit as a way of reaffirming the obedience which is required by God. At the same time, he insists that the only obedience which actually does God's will and fulfills the law of God is an obedience which is the outworking of faith and enabled by the Spirit.

23.5 Christ and "the law of Christ"

The question here is whether and in what sense Christ functioned in Paul's ethics as a model and motivator. We have already laid the groundwork for this section in earlier discussion. In 8 we concluded that Paul both knew and cared about the ministry of Jesus prior to his passion; and that Paul recalled, alluded to, and was himself influenced in his conduct as well as his theology by important features of the Jesus tradition. In 15.2 we noted how much the "in Christ" and "in the Lord" phrases functioned as a leitmotiv in Paul's letters, not least in his description of his own activity and in exhortation to his readers to adopt a particular attitude or course of action. And in 18.2 we observed the importance of the idea of transformation in Paul's soteriology, particularly as transformation to become like Christ, including the imagery of "putting on Christ" (Rom. 13.14) and of {p. 649} daily renewal in knowledge in accordance with the image of God in Christ (Col. 3.10).

So far as Paul's ethics are concerned, the second and third of these have been relatively unproblematic. That Paul should see the Christian life lived out under the authority of Jesus as Lord and in conformity to him is an inevitable corollary of his gospel. What it meant in practice was presumably a combination of faith (23.3) and immediate inspiration (23.4), of ethos and practice determined within the body of Christ, not least by the constant measure and motivation of God's love in Christ's self-sacrificial death. The first, however, has been more problematic, particularly the issue of whether Jesus' own ethical teaching formed any sort of resource for Paul's paraenesis or model for his own conduct. Constant incentive and encouragement from the kerygma of Jesus' death and resurrection is one thing, but there has been a considerable unwillingness to recognize that appeal to the Jesus of the Jesus tradition played much if any part in Paul's own ethics.

The issue can be focused around the question whether Paul's paraenesis contains any echoes of or allusions to Jesus' teaching. In fact, there is widespread recognition of some eight or nine such echoes - all of them, noticeably, in Paul's paraenesis. The most striking are the following:118

Rom. 12.14 - "Bless those who persecute you, bless sad. do not curse" \ Luke 6.27-28 - "Love your enemies .. . bless those who curse you"; Matt. 5.44 - "Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you." {p. 650}

Rom. 14.14-"I know and am persuaded in the Lord Jesus that
nothing is profane (ouden koinon) in itself"; Mark 7.15 - "there is nothing outside a person . . . which is able to
defile him (ouden estin . . . ho dynatai koinosai)."

1 Cor. 13.2 -- "If I have all faith so as to move mountains"; Matt. 17.20 - "If you have faith . . . you will say to this mountain, 'Move from here to there,' and it will move."

1 Thes. 5.2, 4 - "You yourselves know well that the day of the Lord is coming like a thief in the night. . . you are not in darkness that the day will surprise you like a thief";

Matt. 24.43 - "Know this that if the householder had known at what watch the thief was to come, he would have watched."

1 Thes. 5.13 - "Live at peace among yourselves (eireneuete en heautois);

Mark 9.50-"Live at peace with one another" (eireneuete enallelois).

However, the significance of these and other possible allusions is much disputed. This is partly because Paul's explicit references to Jesus are so heavily focused on his death and resurrection; that Paul was not interested in Jesus' pre-passion ministry seems self-evident. Partly also because the issue becomes easily sidetracked or overwhelmed by the more pressing theological issue of whether such allusions help us to recover the ipsissima verba of Jesus. But mostly because of Paul's failure to identify the teaching as that of Jesus. If Paul knew and alluded to Jesus tradition, why did he not identify it as such? What could have given his paraenesis more authoritative weight than a citation of Jesus as its source?121

Such questions, however, reveal a crucial failure to appreciate how tradition works in a community and the function of allusion. A community, almost by definition, has its shared language and metaphors and technical terms and memories. These form the common currency of conversational exchange within the community. They enable the discourse within the com- {p. 651} munity to be abbreviated to a kind of shorthand, where allusions to what is common knowledge can function as such and do not need to be spelled out every time. The closer the community, the more allusive the conversations can be. Indeed, it is precisely the character of such discourse as allusive which enables it to function as a kind of glue bonding the community together. It is one's knowledge of the tradition which enables one to recognize the allusions and which thus attests one's membership of the community. Those who do not recognize the allusions thereby demonstrate that they are still outside the community. One enters the community, in effect, by "learning the language," that is, by learning the community's tradition in order to make and recognize the allusions to it, and thus to function within the community's discourse.

The point should be obvious. We have already noted Paul's concern to pass on traditions to the churches he founded and the strong likelihood that they contained (if not largely consisted of) traditions about Jesus' ministry of word and deed (again 8.2). In consequence Paul could assume a fair degree of knowledge about Jesus' ministry and teaching. And because it was common knowledge, he did not need to cite Jesus' authority when making such allusions. Indeed - an important point - had he cited Jesus' authority every time he referred to something Jesus said or did he would have weakened the force of the allusion as allusion. The allusion which has to be explained has lost its bonding effect. It no longer functions to separate those who recognize the allusion, and thus attest their competence in the Christian "language," from those who fail to recognize it, and thus attest that they are "unbelievers" or "uninstructed" (cf. 1 Cor. 14.23-24).

In contrast - an equally important point - it is noticeable that in regard to the only two pieces of paraenesis which Paul did explicitly attribute to Jesus, he did so precisely because he wanted to qualify their authority. In the one case (1 Cor. 7.10-16), he did so to make it clear that his own instruction went beyond what Jesus taught (the teaching on divorce). In the other case (1 Corinthians 9), he did so to make it clear that his own practice disregarded {p. 652} what Jesus commanded (the evangelist should be provided with financial support by the church). By way of contrast, then, the fact that all Paul's other references are allusions indicates his acceptance of their authority and his assumption that his readers' recognition of the allusion would likewise strengthen their authority. In other words, the allusiveness does not weaken the authority of the reference to the Jesus tradition. On the contrary, it underlines and reinforces its authority for the community of Jesus.

At this point we need to bring in the third "law of" phrase - "the law of Christ." Like the other "law of" phrases this one occurs only once or twice in Paul. In Gal. 6.2 he calls on the Galatians: "Bear one another's burdens and thus you shall fulfill the law of Christ (ton nomon tou Christou)."'126 And in 1 Cor. 9.20-21 he describes his personal policy:

To those under the law I became as one under the law (though I myself am not under the law), in order that I might win those under the law. To those outside the law I became as one outside the law (though I am not outside the law but in-lawed to Christ [ennomos Christou]), in order that I might win those outside the law.

Here again, as with the other "law of" phrases discussed above, there is a widespread feeling that Paul could not be referring to the Torah when he spoke of "the law of Christ." How could he say that he had "died to the law" (Gal. 2.19), or affirm that those who had received the Spirit had been redeemed from "under the law" (Gal. 4.4-7), or warn his readers so fiercely against coming under the yoke of the law's slavery (Gal. 5.1) and then speak of the law so positively? The usual solution is that whatever the phrase means, it cannot refer to the Torah; Paul is once again playing on the term nomos.ni

Once again, however, the positive strand of Paul's teaching on the law has been missed or too heavily discounted. In this case we should note particularly the striking parallel in thought between Romans and Galatians. In Rom. 13.8-10 Paul sums up his ethical teaching to that point with the words: {p. 653} 8Owe nothing to anyone except to love one another; for he who loves the other has fulfilled the law. 9For the commandment, "You shall not commit adultery," "You shall not kill," "You shall not steal," "You shall not covet," and any other commandment, is summed up in this word, in the command "You shall love your neighbour as yourself." 10Love does no wrong to the neighbour; therefore the fulfilment of the law is love.

Then, a chapter and a half later, Paul again sums up, this time his extensive treatment of the problem of food laws, in a similar concern for the neighbour - Rom. 15.1-3:

'We the strong ought to support the weaknesses of those without strength and not to please ourselves. 2Let each of us please his neighbour with a view to what is good, for upbuilding. 3For the Christ too did not please himself. . . .

Since this is the only other occasion on which Paul speaks of concern for the "neighbour," it is not too hard to see a train of thought running between the two Romans passages. Jesus' refusal to please himself was depicted by Paul as an example of pleasing the neighbour, which is another way of saying "Love your neighbour as yourself," which in turn is a fulfilment of the law.

What is noticeable for us is that Paul seems to have followed the same train of thought in Galatians. In Gal. 5.14 he says something very similar to Rom. 13.8-10: "Through love serve one another. For the whole law is fulfilled129 in one word, in the [well-known] 'You shall love your neighbour as yourself " (Gal. 5.13-14). And then, just half a chapter later, he calls for his audience to "Bear one another's burdens and thus you will fulfill the law of Christ" (Gal. 6.2). We can make precisely the same deduction as before. To fulfill the law of Christ is to bear one another's burdens, which is a particular example of loving the neighbour, which fulfills the law. The point should be obvious: in the parallel trains of thought "the law of Christ" (Galatians) is equivalent to Jesus' refusal to please himself (Romans). Which presumably means that in Paul's mind "the law of Christ" included some reference to Jesus' own example.

A second consideration has to be added. That is the likelihood that this repeated emphasis on love of neighbour as fulfilling the whole law was a conscious echo of Jesus' own teaching on the two great commandments: " 'You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart. . .' [and] 'You shall. {p. 654} love your neighbour as yourself.' There is no other commandment greater than these" (Mark 12.30-31). Or in Matthew's version, "On these two commandments depends the whole law" (Matt. 22.40). The idea that the law could be "summed up" or encapsulated in one or a few commandments is not unique to Christianity. But the evidence of the Romans and Galatians passages indicates that this emphasis on love of neighbour as summing up or fulfilling the whole law had become an established feature in Pauline paraenesis (not to say Christian paraenesis generally). And given that the same emphasis is clearly established within the Jesus tradition, it would be somewhat perverse to look to another source for the earliest Christian emphasis at this point. In other words, Gal. 5.14 and Rom. 13.8-10 can be added to the list of probable allusions to Jesus' teaching.

The deduction is obvious: that by "the law of Christ" Paul will have been thinking particularly of the love command. To bear the other's burden is obviously to love the burdened neighbour. And since bearing the other's burden fulfills the law of Christ, it follows that "the law of Christ" is a way of speaking of the command to love the neighbour. Adding this point to the one already made, we can also make the further deduction: that by the law of Christ Paul had in mind both Jesus' teaching on the love command and Jesus' own example in living out the love command.

These findings are important. First, they confirm once more that Paul did not teach that the law was to be wholly discarded or abandoned. His {p. 655} critique of the law was more specific and in effect peeled away from the law the functions that it no longer should serve to leave its continuing function all the clearer. In both Gal. 5.13-14 and Rom. 13.8-10 Paul talks about "fulfilling" the law as something which evidently meets the requirement of the law (Rom. 8.4) and is still desirable and necessary for believers. In so doing he indicates clearly that he had in mind the whole law. Not just the moral commands within the ten commandments, but "any other command," too (Rom. 13.9). His concern was not to abstract or separate the love command from the rest, but to emphasize the "whole law" as still obligatory for believers (Gal. 5.14). To fulfill the law of Christ was to fulfill the law.

Second, the love command is the summary, epitome, condensation of the whole law. The whole law is fulfilled by loving the neighbour. Particularly noticeable in Galatians is the fact that within a few verses Paul could speak both of "doing the whole law" as something entirely undesirable for Gentile Christians, and yet also of "fulfilling the whole law" as something entirely desirable for Christians (Gal. 5.3, 14).

5.3 - "Everyone who is being circumcised ... is obligated to do the whole law. You have been estranged from Christ. . .";

5.14 - "The whole law is fulfilled ... in the [well-known] 'You shall love your neighbour as yourself.' "

If these two statements are contradictory, Paul assuredly cannot have been unaware of that contradiction. It must rather be the case that he had in mind the same twofold way of looking at and living in relation to the law to which we have now grown accustomed. The one was a misunderstanding of the role of the law in relation to Israel, all that Paul summed up under the terms "works" and "letter." But the other was a wholly acceptable and necessary appreciation of the law's continuing importance - the whole law as summed up and fulfillable in and through the command to love the neighbour. Where requirements of the law were being interpreted in a way which ran counter to the basic principle of the love command, Paul thought that the requirements could and should be dispensed with. On the other hand, it was still possible in his view for the whole law, and all its com- {p. 656} mandments, to be fulfilled in a way which did not run counter to the love command.

A similar point emerges from another too little observed correlation between Paul's letters. Paul uses the formulation "neither circumcision nor uncircumcision is anything, but ..." three times. The comparison of the balancing clauses is instructive.

Gal. 5.6- "in Christ Jesus neither circumcision nor uncircumcision counts for anything, but faith operating effectively through love";

Gal. 6.15 - "neither circumcision nor uncircumcision is anything, but a new creation";

1 Cor. 7.19 - "circumcision is nothing and uncircumcision is nothing, but [what matters is] keeping the commandments of God."

In the new creation, circumcision (or not) can be counted among the adiaphora, things neither good nor bad in themselves. Faith operating through love is how the commandments of God are to be kept. That is, the love command is not an alternative to the law, the commandments of God. Rather, it shows how the commandments are to be kept - including the necessity or otherwise of circumcision! In other words, the love command fulfills the whole law because it fulfills the spirit of the law and, in the given situation of loving the neighbour, indicates what things really matter and what can be treated as nonessentials (adiaphora).

Third, it follows from our analysis that Jesus himself provided Paul with a model for the conduct prescribed by the law. It was Jesus' teaching which had summed up the law in the love command. But Jesus' example, as conveyed to the churches in the Jesus tradition, evidently also served to document what obeying the law through the love command meant in particular situations. There can be little doubt, for example, that the accounts of Jesus' Sabbath controversies (Mark 2.23-3.5 pars.) provided illustrations of what {p. 657} keeping the Sabbath by loving the neighbour meant. Just as Jesus' practice, as well as teaching, on clean and unclean and table fellowship was no doubt also definitive for Paul. The call to "welcome one another, as Christ also welcomed you" (Rom. 15.7), and to "forgive each other,... as the Lord also forgave you" (Col. 3.13), were informed not only by the individual's experience of acceptance and forgiveness, but presumably also by the traditions of Jesus offering acceptance and forgiveness to sinners during his own ministry. Of course, the supreme example of Jesus' own "love of neighbour" was his death "for us (sinners) " (Rom. 5.8), but the Gospels remind us that the cross was not the only cherished reminiscence of Jesus' love of neighbour. In short, despite the paucity of explicit evidence, we can gain a fairly clear idea of what "living in accordance with Christ Jesus" (Rom. 15.5) and with "the law of Christ" (Gal. 6.2) meant for Paul and his addressees. Both phrases include allusion to the Jesus tradition which each church received from its founding apostle and which helped constitute it as the church of Jesus Christ. The believer seeking to live in accord with the law of Christ could refer to the Jesus tradition known widely among the churches, or in particular to the teachers of the community, whose primary function within the community was to serve as a repository for and instructors in that tradition. This tradition provided a model of what it meant to live in accord with the law as summed up in the love command. In this phrase "the law of Christ," then, we have further confirmation that the law continued to have paraenetic force for the first Christians. But it was the law as taught and as lived out by Jesus, as known to each church through its founding traditions.

23.6 Liberty and love

The exegetical problems with which we have been dealing in this chapter can all be put down to the eschatological tension in Paul's theology of the salvation process. For they each express in turn the tension between outward rule and inward motivation, between traditional truths and fresh insight, between a {p. 658} revelation which began with creation but which now has been brought to sharper focus in Christ. Inextricably intertwined are the tensions between old nature and new, between flesh and Spirit, between Israel and church, between institution and charism, between individual and community. The tension comes to particular expression not least in the two-way tug of liberty and love. The ground has been largely covered already, but the principle of liberty and the qualification of love were of such importance for Paul that they deserve at least a brief separate mention.

The principle of Christian liberty was obviously one close to Paul's heart, as we saw at the end of 14 and 16. Who, reading Rom. 8.2 or Gal. 5.1, could doubt that? Rom. 8.2 -"the law of the Spirit of life in Christ Jesus has set you free from the law of sin and death." Gal. 5.1 - "For freedom Christ has set us free. Stand firm, therefore, and do not be subject again to a yoke of slavery." But since we first cited these texts we have seen two important qualifications.

One is, once again, the already-not yet. "Freedom from the slavery of corruption" and "the liberty of the glory of the children of God" belong to the not yet ("the redemption of our body," Rom. 8.21-23). The liberty of the Spirit of life is still constrained by the body of death (Rom. 8.10). This means that the individual believer is not yet delivered from the old nature, the flesh, and is still subject to the downward pull of desire degenerating into lust. That Paul was all too well aware of this danger is indicated clearly enough by the qualification he himself injects into Galatians 5: "You were called to freedom, brothers; only not the freedom for opportunity to the flesh, but through love serve one another" (5.13). Paul was all too well aware that freedom could easily serve as a cloak for selfish and self-seeking ends, that liberty could quickly degenerate into license. The only effective controlling factor, he implies, is love - love defined simply as the concern to serve one another.

The other qualification on individual liberty is the complexity of the individual's living as part of community. Fundamental to Paul's concept of the body of Christ was both the diversity of its members and their mutual interdependence upon each other (20.4). That also means the responsibility of the one for the whole and of the whole for the individual. Not simply in genuine care for one another, but also in readiness to restrain one's own {p. 659}

conviction of charism for the benefit of the whole (1 Cor. 14.28, 30). Here again it is important to recognize the placement of 1 Corinthians 13 between chs. 12 and 14: the only way to turn the vision of the charismatic body of Christ (ch. 12) into practice (ch. 14) is through love (ch. 13).

1 Corinthians 8-10 is a passage where Paul makes particular play on the liberty/love tension. He agrees with the theology of those who claim the right (exousia) to disregard idols (1 Cor. 8.9). He acknowledges the extent of their freedom - "All things are permitted (exestin) " (1 Cor. 10.23). But he qualifies the liberty each time by concern for the impact of that liberty on the fellow believer: it may become a stumbling block to the weak (8.9); it may not build up the church (10.23). The exercise of liberty must always be conditioned by love.150 Nor should we forget that in the intervening chapter Paul sets up his own apostolic practice as an example of liberty conditioned by love: he emphasizes his rights (9.1-14), only to explain why he refuses to claim them (9.15-27).

Paul's theology of Christian liberty as a passage between the Scylla of over-stipulative legalism and the Charybdis of self-indulgent license can be simply illustrated:

L I B E R T Y
LICENSE ___________________________ LEGALISM
_{LOVE LOVE}

The liberty of the Christian is itself a spectrum embracing considerable diversity. But it is ever threatened by those who find it necessary to insist on "faith plus" (that is, plus whatever their tradition counts as the essential concomitant of faith). And equally by those whose reaction against all tradition and guidelines cuts away too much that is of proven excellence and worthy of praise. The narrow margins between liberty and legalism on the one side and between liberty and license on the other can be maintained only by an active and outgoing love.

Paul, then, can be given credit for being the first to define Christian liberty. The way he does so makes an interesting and instructive comparison and contrast with one of the classic statements of individual liberty. According to John Stuart Mill, the only freedom which deserves the name is that of pursuing our own good in our own way, so long as we do not attempt to deprive others of theirs or impede their efforts to obtain it. {p. 660}

What is lacking in Mill's definition is the sense of liberty as something to be used on behalf of others. In contrast, Paul saw liberty not simply as the prized right of the individual to pursue his or her own interests, but as the right of the individual in community, where rights were conditioned not only by the rights of others, but still more by active responsibility for others. It is this sense of rights married to responsibilities, of liberty exercised in love of neighbour, which marks out Paul's ethic of liberty and makes it such a powerful social, not to say political, principle.

23.7 Traditional wisdom

One further point needs to be made, lest it be lost to sight in the various emphases which have now come to the fore. It is simply to reiterate and further elaborate the fact that Paul's new ethic of faith and Spirit, of Christ and love did not mean a wholly new and unheard-of ethos and ethic. In effect we have been underscoring the point throughout this chapter by emphasizing the continuing role of the law in Paul's ethic. But for completeness we need to recall how much of Paul's ethical teaching echoes older teaching in content and form.

a) Earlier on we noted how much of Paul's condemnation of Gentile morality was a reflection of traditional Jewish wisdom teaching. We will see shortly that he drew on the same treasures of Jewish wisdom in other paraenesis (24.2). A good case can also be made for the view that Paul's ethics were influenced by the already well-established ideas that certain fundamental laws were applicable also to Gentiles (the basis of the subsequent rabbinic doctrine of the Noahide commandments). Hence Paul's unwillingness to yield on sexual immorality (porneia) and on food offered to idols. Paul's insistence that human conduct and discharge of responsibilities will be judged by an impartial Judge is equally a motif drawn directly from his own heritage. At the same time, his readiness to put the grounds {p. 661} of judgment in the broadest possible terms ("good" and "bad" -Rom. 2.7-10) indicates a willingness to appeal to a fundamental sense in humankind of right and wrong. A similar inference can be drawn from Paul's readiness to appeal to the reaction of non-Christians as a factor influencing Christian conduct.

In contrast, the resistance to any acknowledgment of Paul's dependence on his scriptures (the OT) for his paraenesis is one of the curiosities of twentieth-century exegesis. The reason is, no doubt, partly the sharpness of the law/gospel antithesis, so fundamental in much Reformation theology; partly also the lack of sensitivity to the scriptural allusions and echoes which are such a feature of Paul's letters. Indeed, if the above line of reflection is sound, Paul cited scriptural authority only when arguing a controversial line, whereas his paraenesis usually lacks much explicit scriptural reference precisely because the paraenesis was uncontroversial; an allusion was sufficient. In other words, the authority of scripture as a continuing criterion for Christian conduct is for the most part simply presupposed. It was scripture understood in the light of Christ,163, but it was still authoritative scripture.

b) The most obvious features of Pauline paraenesis which echo traditional formulations are his vice and virtue lists. The vice lists are more common164 and {p. 662} the virtue lists often less extensive. As the references at the end of each list indicate, neither is peculiar to Paul within the New Testament, or to Christian or {p. 663} Jew or Greek. This is not simply to say that the form was more or less universal across the eastern Mediterranean. It is also to recognize that the sort of ethical and moral concerns which Paul displays in these lists were also typical of those elsewhere concerned for ethical probity and moral restraint. It would simply be wrong, then, to imagine that Christianity brought an entirely new ethos and moral integrity into the world. Much of its ethical teaching was conventional. And none the worse for that. It would be a peculiarly crass arrogance for Christians to believe that they had been given a unique moral sense or to be embarrassed because their ethical teaching did not mark them out completely from all others. On the contrary, Paul had no hesitation in aligning himself with the wisdom of previous generations, as it had been learned, often at bitter expense, by both Jew and Greek.

We can be more precise. Paul shared a common distaste for various vices. For example, pleonexia (literally "desire to have more," so "greediness, insatiableness, covetousness") was a widely condemned vice and an obvious item for inclusion in Stoic and other catalogues of vice. And most if not all of the items in the list in Rom. 13.13 would have been the subject of widespread censure. Equally, the list in Phil. 4.8-9 deliberately appeals to what was generally regarded as "virtue" and as "praiseworthy"; though in comparison with its prominence elsewhere, this single reference to "virtue" (arete) is striking, and the complete absence of any reference to the elsewhere highly prized eudaimonia ("well-being, happiness") reminds us that Paul's priorities were differently directed.1?0 Paul's commendation of "self-control" (enkrateia) would have found resonance in Greek philosophical ethics, and {p. 664} "gentleness" too was a highly prized virtue, though Greek thought typically recognized that it could be taken to extreme. His condemnation of homosexual acts uses the Stoic criterion of what is "fitting," though the condemnation itself is thoroughly Jewish, as distinct from Hellenistic. Similarly, his repeated abhorrence of idolatry is distinctively Jewish. More distinctively Christian would be the exaltation of love to its place of prominence in 1 Corinthians 13 and Gal. 5.76 and the high regard for "humility." Moreover, the diversity of the Pauline lists is clear enough indication that he was not simply transposing ready-made catalogues from elsewhere. Rather, the particular emphases of individual lists like Gal. 5.19-21 and Col. 3.5 strongly suggest that the items were chosen to address what were perceived as potential dangers threatening the communities in view - in Galatians divisive factionalism,178, in Colossians sexual immorality.

Much of Paul's ethical teaching, then, drew on traditional wisdom. It was presumably his awareness of a high degree of shared ethos and moral sense among people of good will which allowed him to talk of final judgment simply in terms of "good" rewarded and "evil" punished (Rom. 2.6-11). Hence also his confidence in appealing to "conscience" and in referring to those who "do by nature what the law requires" (Rom. 2.14-15). He would have been sufficiently confident of a well-developed sense of right and wrong in the societies in which he mingled. At the same time, by setting love so prominently in his ethical teaching, and always with the thought of "the law of Christ" in the back of his mind, Paul no doubt looked for a quality of personal relationship and community which was only seldom achieved. {p. 665}

c) The other common form181 which we find regularly in the paraenesis of the later letters is the table of household rules (Haustafel). These letters begin to fall outside our purview, but since they correlate with emphases in the earlier Pauline teaching we should mention the tables here briefly. The first and best example in fact comes in Colossians and so may express Paul's own developing thinking on the subject - Col. 3.18-4.1

Wives, be subject to your husbands, as is fitting in the Lord. Husbands, love your wives and do not become embittered toward them. Children, obey your parents in everything, for this is pleasing in the Lord. Fathers, do not provoke your children, that they may not lose heart. Slaves, obey in everything those who are your masters in terms of the flesh, not with eye service as men-pleasers, but with sincerity of heart, fearing the Lord. Whatever you do, put yourself wholly into it, as to the Lord and not to human beings, knowing that you will receive from the Lord the reward of the inheritance. The master you are slave to is Christ. For the wrongdoer will be paid back for the wrong done, and there is no favoritism. 'Masters, grant your slaves what is just and fair, knowing that you also have a master in heaven.

The lengthy debate on the origin of these household rules has been recently resolved. In the past twenty years or so several scholars in quick succession have recognized that the model for the Christian household rules, insofar as there was one, was that of oikonomia, "household management." The point {p. 666} is that the household was widely recognized to be the basic unit of the state. As part of the state's good ordering, therefore, it was necessary to deal with the household's basic relationships - that is, of husband to wife, father to children, and master to slave.

This is not to say that Colossians and subsequent Christian writers simply took over standard formulae. Col. 3.18--4.1 is itself the purest example of the Haustafel "form." And concerns for relationships within the household often feature as part of more widely ranging social concerns. Nevertheless, we can speak of common concerns regarding household management among ethical and political thinkers of the time, which early Christian writers evidently shared. Within that general concern we can also note features which would otherwise be called characteristically Stoic. And the lengthy section addressed to slaves uses repeated Jewish motifs. At the same time, however, we can hardly avoid noting the characteristic and distinctively Christian features, most notably the sevenfold reference to "the Lord."

All this raises important questions for a critical evaluation of earliest Christian ethics. In particular, to what extent were such Haustafeln simply conforming to the world, compromising not least with conservative social structures, which they ought to have been questioning? We will be able to take up some of these issues when we look at how Paul's ethics worked in practice (24). For the moment, however, it is important to realize that in the realm of household management there was also a recognition among the first Christians of "good practice" elsewhere and a readiness to support good order in both household and state. {p. 667}

23.8 Conclusions

The principles underlying Paul's ethics are fairly easy to pick out and document. Among several notable features already discussed there is one other which deserves some mention at the end. That is the balance Paul evidently sought to maintain between what we might call internal motivation and external norm.

The external norm can be variously defined. It can be defined in terms of traditional wisdom, vices and virtues commonly recognized as such, notions of what is right and wrong accepted by all those of good will, ideas of communal interdependence and good order at the heart of society. In each case, however, a Christian perspective and memory of Christ's love and self-giving adds a distinctive further element which infuses the whole. Again, given the through and through Jewish background of Pauline Christianity, the external norm, not surprisingly, may also be defined as the law. But this is the law insofar as it expresses faith, the law insofar as it has been reinforced by Christ, both his teaching and his example. That means also the law lived out in accord with the principles of faith and love of neighbour, the competing claims of the law prioritized and shown their relative importance by faith and love. This does not imply a simple division of moral law from ceremonial law, for faith and love, the norm of Christ, can reinforce both and relativize both. The end result may be similar, but the principle for discerning the will of God in particular events applies to the whole law. From case to case it can result in a living "under the law" as well as a living "outside the law," but always "in-lawed to Christ" (ennomos Christou- 1 Cor. 9.21). Nor does such a redefinition of the law exclude or diminish the fundamental function of the law as the measure of God's judgment. Within the new regime of "the law of Christ" the law still indicates responsibility for others and accountability before God. Judgment in terms of the law is also "in accordance with (Paul's) gospel" (Rom. 2.12-16).

The internal motivation combines the inner calm of trust which knows that it cannot do other than trust and the inner compulsion of the Spirit. The renewed mind, its starting point ever its dependence on God for illumination and wisdom, seeks to know the will of God, the mind of Christ. What Paul means by that process is presumably indicated by other key motifs in his {p. 668} ethical thought - living "in Christ" and seeking to act "in the Lord," desiring earnestly to know the law of God written in the heart, rejoicing in one's liberty but ready equally to guard that liberty against the subtle encroachments of legalism and license. Not least he would expect his readers to recall always that the believer is not an isolated individual, with rights in the face of others and no responsibilities. On the contrary, grace received meant for Paul charism for the benefit of others, and liberty meant opportunity to serve others. To love one's neighbour as much as oneself meant in practice seeking the benefit of others before one's own.

Not least of importance was Paul's recognition that both the outward norm and the inward motivation were essential for ethical living. Without the spontaneous inward compulsion, the external norm would quickly degenerate into "letter" and thence to legalism, and the self-regulating, or better, body-regulating, principle of charism would degenerate into routine and rule. But equally, without the external norm, the internal compulsion would become a law unto itself and Christian conduct become antinomian and guru-led. Both are needed. The Christian needs to be led by the Spirit. Conduct as well as charism needs to be a manifestation of the Spirit. But unless it is also a manifestation of love, it is not the Spirit of Christ behind it. At the same time, without the Spirit the discernment of what really matters is not possible. And without love even the most self-sacrificial, spiritual, and even faithful acts can be worth nothing (1 Cor. 13.1-3).

So much for the statement of principle. How did Paul expect it to work in practice? {p. 669)

24 Ethics in practice

24.1 The social context

If it was important to ask how Paul's ecclesiology worked out in practice, the same question is even more pressing in the case of his ethics. Too many ideologies claiming to promote the commonweal have failed in practice, broken on the rocks of human greed, vested interest, fear of change, or dogged intransigence. Alternatively expressed in terms of Paul's own theological critique, they have failed to appreciate the reality of the power of sin and the inescapable constraints of the eschatological tension. Both laissez-faire liberalism and eastern European Communism fell at the same hurdle. Christianity's own record is at best mixed. So how did Paul's ethical principles work in the event? Such principles will always be subject to the test of the practice they produce. And though the resulting practice may not be a fair reflection of the principles, it will certainly tell us how realistic were the principles within the social context of the age.

Paul's ethic, of course, operated with ultimate constraints, both as a promise and a threat, with his talk both of a kingdom yet to be inherited and a final judgment yet to be faced. But this was not a way of avoiding hard ethical issues of the time. Rather, these were inducements to present conduct. And Paul's own timescale did not envisage an ethical or social programme extending across several generations. So it is fair to ask how he attempted to put his ideals and principles into practice in the immediate situations with which he was confronted and in the short term. After all, it was Jesus who is recalled as giving the dictum: "You will know them by their fruits" (Matt. 7.16, 20).

A further consideration is that Paul's ethics cannot be dealt with solely under the heading of personal ethics. His concern at every turn was with social interaction. We have already observed that his understanding of the process of salvation is integrally corporate in character, that he reacted strongly against any thought of a maturity not dependent on and interdependent with the community of faith. The individual as individual, therefore, could hardly hope to live out Paul's ethical principles solely on his or her own. Too much depended on a wisdom which was corporate, whether as tradition or as fresh insight, and, either way, not least as to its interpretation. The fact that Paul put his exposition of the body of Christ at the beginning of his paraenesis in Romans 12 is itself an indication that he did not think of its imagery of mutual interdependence as applicable solely to matters of worship. And if he was } conscious of the origin of the image in political rhetoric, as is probable, he may even have thought of the church of Christ as a model of what all social (and not just religious) community should be.

In asking how Paul's ethical principles worked in practice, therefore, it is important to recall the reality of Paul's social world and that/those of his churches. In every case he was dealing with small social groups (churches) which were composed of individuals and households of diverse ethnic backgrounds, religious traditions, and social status. The identity of these groups was still in process of formation, with their boundaries usually fluid or shifting. Core beliefs, shared experience, and practice of baptism and the Lord's Supper were sufficiently consistent to provide a recognizable identity and powerful bonding factors. But as we have seen, interpretation of the beliefs and experience and diversity of the practice left the boundaries less well defined. Furthermore, the groups often functioned within large cities, themselves still more diverse in composition and character. They were very small units within a social context shaped by powerful political and economic interests. The interface between the churches and their social context, the movement across the boundaries (out and in), and the tensions within the churches themselves are all factors to be borne in mind when talking about Paul's ethics in practice.

All this comes to a head when we realize that most of the really pressing ethical questions were posed by clashes of tradition among members of traditional communities, clashes both within the churches and across their boundaries. In no case could the issue be reduced to a simple statement of principle with a straightforward application to follow. For the principle itself could not be stated without reference to both tradition and the community, and its application was often at the heart of the dispute. Nowhere more clearly than here do we see the reality of the already-not yet of Paul's theology, as principle and practice inevitably reflected the tension and often unsatisfactory compromises made unavoidable by the not yet.

The most obvious way to proceed, then, is to take a sample of hard cases with which Paul had to deal. The more concrete the better, and the more information we have on social context the better. This points us to two letters in particular - Romans and 1 Corinthians. The former has been our principal Pauline text throughout, and we know more about the social conditions of Rome than those of anywhere else in the Roman Empire during this period. 1 Corinthians, because of its character, dealing with a sequence of ethical and social issues, has given us the fullest picture of any early church within its social context. In fact, between these two letters we cover as representative a range of Pauline ethical issues as we could hope for. And as we draw in comparative material from other letters at various points, the resulting picture will be about as comprehensive as we could wish for. {p. 673}

24.2 Living within a hostile world - Rom. 12.9-13.14

When we look at the paraenesis in Romans a certain dualism becomes apparent. The perspective is that of an embattled colony of the imminent approaching day, but still surrounded and threatened by the night and "the works of darkness" (13.11-13). Whatever other positive contacts with the surrounding world are in view, a primary consideration had to be successful survival. All the more striking, then, is the positive way Paul addresses the situation. Here we can only focus on a number of key features.6

a) The social reality. In this section Paul's paraenesis is principally concerned with relationships between the Roman congregations and the surrounding community and civic authorities (particularly 12.14-13.7). Paul himself would hardly need reminding of the political realities which confronted these new small groups of believers within the cities of the Roman Empire. In this case in particular, he was evidently well aware of the fact that the little house churches within the imperial capital itself were endangered, vulnerable to the central government's suspicions of clubs and societies and not least to further imperial rulings against Jews.7 The very transition in identity, which is implied in the transition from chs. 9-11 to ch. 12,8 was itself rendering the churches' position ever more hazardous. For any group which was no longer simply ethnic in composition ("Israel," Jews) could soon find itself bereft of the protection granted specifically to the synagogue. The more sharply defined the theological identity of the church as nonethnic in character, the more vulnerable the political status of the church.

The details of Paul's instruction fill out the picture still more. In 12.14-21 Paul takes it for granted that persecution and acts of malice would be directed against the small house churches of Rome. That in itself speaks eloquently of the atmosphere of threat and intimidation within which these believers had to live out their discipleship. At the same time Paul takes it equally for granted that there would be considerable actual day-to-day contact between the members of the Roman house churches and the wider community - such as would require just the advice he gives about maintaining good relationships. Paul evidently entertained no thought of the Roman Christians compartmentalizing their lives or of living their lives cut off from the wider community.

Likewise, the fact that the discussion in 13.1-7 builds up to the subject of paying taxes was presumably no accident. In fact, we know from near contemporary sources that the abuses of indirect taxation were causing increasing unrest within the capital at that time.9 Paul must have been reasonably well informed of current affairs in Rome and would be well enough aware that Christian merchants and traders associated with the Jewish "superstition" were in a particularly defenceless situation. Failure of a number of Christians to pay even an inflated tax might well draw the authorities' attention to the little congregations and put them at serious risk. The Roman authorities had a well-developed system of spies and informers. So we should certainly allow for the possibility that some at least of Paul's exhortation was framed with the thought in mind that "walls have ears."

b) The principles. In these circumstances what were the principles Paul drew upon in his paraenesis? Two features stand out.

First and most noteworthy is the fact that he sets the whole sequence of exhortation under the rubric of love: "Let love be without pretence" (12.9).10 Following as it does the description of the functioning body of Christ (12.3-8), the echo of his earlier treatment of the same theme in 1 Corinthians 12-14 cannot but be deliberate. Paul recognized that the vision of the charismatic community was unrealizable without love. But he equally recognized that love itself could become formalized in expression, the outward form of a judgmental or dismissive spirit, a cloak of pretence hiding an agenda of personal advancement, a pretentious claim as manipulative as any coercive claim to charismatic authority. The principle of love required a higher practice, more of the order of 1 Cor. 13.4-7.

Equally, it will be no accident that the central section (Rom. 12.14--13.7) is bracketed by the double call for love (12.9; 13.8-10). The latter, as we have seen,12, not only reaffirms and draws upon the richness of the law as a guide for ethical conduct, but also indicates how the law is to be interpreted through love of neighbour (as taught and lived by Jesus himself) - The rubric of love, as the primary principle of all conduct, is therefore intended to cover the whole of the following paraenesis.

We should note also, secondly, how closely Paul correlates being "aglow with the Spirit" and "serving the Lord" (12.11). The former imagery suggests a bubbling, burning enthusiasm, emotions fully engaged. The latter suggests more firmness of intention and persistence of application. Together the two indicate the importance of the two sides in determining and sustaining Christian conduct - the inner motivation channeled in accord with the outward norm.

Third, the passage is also rich in illustration of how Paul sought to draw on traditional wisdom and to appeal to standards more widely recognized. The counsel of 12.14-21 is chiefly rooted in Jewish traditional wisdom regarding human relationships. The unusually heavy concentration of scriptural allusions indicates a strong concern on the part of Paul to root this most demanding of ethical obligations in the tried and tested wisdom of Jewish scripture and experience. Similarly in 13.1-7 the basic rationale, that political authority is from God, was one which was long familiar in Jewish wisdom. More to the point in the circumstances, it was a principle to which prophet and apocalyptist had clung even when confronted by the overwhelming might of a Nebuchadnezzar or faced by Syrian oppression. As Daniel repeatedly declared: "The Most High rules the kingdom of men and gives it to whom he will." Likewise the implication that "fear" is the proper response to God-appointed authority (13.7) presumably echoes consciously or unconsciously the same generations-old wisdom. Such assertions must have been particularly meaningful for Jews living in the diaspora, as aliens living under a foreign power, and often as slaves and dispossessed.

The echoes of Jesus tradition through this section are also noteworthy. It is particularly strong in 12.14,20 but since that verse sets the theme for what follows, the echo pervades the whole - by implication 12.17 and 21, and more explicitly 12.18. Similarly an echo of Jesus' teaching in 13.7 can hardly be ruled out (Mark 12.17 pars.). The theme is the same: the necessity of paying tribute. The sequence of 13.7, 8-10 is paralleled by the sequence Mark 12.13-17, 18-34. And Luke 20.22, renders the tradition in the same terms as Paul uses here. This could well be the form, then, in which this important practical counsel of Jesus was remembered in the diaspora. We have already discussed the likelihood that 13.8-10 was framed in conscious echo of Jesus' teaching on the love command. The fact that the echo is quickly followed and the sequence of paraenesis concluded by a final call to "put on the Lord Jesus Christ" (13.14) simply confirms that the character of Jesus' own life and ministry formed a constant norm and inspiration for Paul's own conception of Christian living.

At the same time, we should also note that Paul did not hesitate to appeal to standards much more widely recognized and lauded. The categories of "evil" and "good" (12.9, 21) are again general. The virtues of "brotherly love" and "family affection" (12.10) were widely commended. The obligation to provide hospitality to the stranger (12.13) was likewise deeply rooted and highly regarded in ancient society. The call to "take into consideration what is noble (kalos) in the sight of everyone" (12.17) was in effect a call for behaviour which would not leave the Roman Christians exposed to the criticisms of Stoic or Cynic. Here again Paul shows himself ready to appeal to a widespread sense of what is morally right and fitting.

Similarly the argument in 13.2-5 appealed to principles which commanded wide assent: regularity in nature and orderliness in society as something provided for by nature and commended by divine reason; a society needing constraints in order to ensure "the good"; the role of the ruler in administering such constraints, commending the "good" and punishing the "bad." And the excesses outlined in 13.13 ("revelry and drunkenness," "debauchery and sexual excess," "quarreling and envy") were such as few if any would have attempted to defend.

c) The practice. The resulting guidance is an interesting blend of principle and realism. It has several noteworthy features.

First, in 12.9-13.10 Paul makes no attempt to distinguish ethical behaviour within the church as different from that without. The same principle governs relations among believers and relations of believers with those among whom they lived.

The analysis of 12.9-21 has been thrown off balance by the questions of whether Paul is using preformed material and whether he intended a clear transition from an exhortation directed to internal church relationships (12.9-13) to one directed to external relationships (12.14-21), the problem being that while 12.14, 17-21 seem to have in view a situation of persecution and hostility, 12.15-16 seem once again to be directed to the Roman churches' internal affairs: 12.15 recalls the obligation of members of the body of Christ to each other (as in 1 Cor. 12.26); and 12.16 certainly recalls the earlier warning of 11.20. However, to deduce that Paul was simply failing to order the sequence of his exhortations with coherence and consistency probably misses the point. The point is rather that the obligations to "insiders" and to "outsiders" cannot be neatly pigeonholed and kept distinct. 12.15-16 should be seen rather as an indication of the degree to which Paul saw the life of the Christian churches as integrated into the wider life of the city. The call for sensitive sympathy with those caught in the ups and downs of daily life (12.15), for a proper modesty of self-esteem, and for genuine solidarity with the most lowly ranked or disadvantaged within the congregation (12.16) is of a piece with the positive will to bless the persecutor (12.14) and to do good to the malicious and spiteful (12.17). Paul evidently did not see a believer's life as divided neatly into two sets of distinguishable attitudes and obligations - one to fellow believers, the other to nonbelievers. Given the permanent state of threat under which the little churches of Rome lived, this advice is remarkable in its positive outgoing character.

Here again it is important to note that the rubric of love (12.9) covers the whole sweep of the paraenesis, however the paraenesis itself may be apportioned between obligations to insider and outsider. The same sympathetic concern and positive outgoing love should be the rule governing all cases. At the same time we should not ignore the note of realism in 12.18: "if possible, as much as it depends on you." In the face of adamant opposition, love could hope to achieve only so much. Equally the context of the bracketing call for love (13.8-10) clearly implies that the neighbour is not merely to be thought of as the Christian sister and brother, but includes also those who belong to the wider social context. And here too we should note the realism of the exhortation. The neighbour was not merely the fellow believer and could be anyone. But the neighbour was not everyone. The neighbour in view was indeed the neighbour, the person encountered in the course of daily life whose need laid a claim upon the believer's resources. And the output of love in action here called for included the qualification "as yourself." The call was not for a love which outran the resources of the individual, but for a love which in realistic self-esteem recognized the limits as well as the extent of the gifting and enabling from God.

Second, the policy Paul advocated was one of political realism or, alternatively expressed, political quietism. That can be expressed somewhat negatively and even dismissively - as a safety-first policy of avoiding trouble, refusal to retaliate in the face of provocation (12.14-21), recognition that the civic authorities exercise God-given authority - nothing being said of the abuse of such authority (13.1-7). This is the realism of the little people, of the powerless. But it should be put more positively, as Paul indicates. The call to respond positively to evil is in fact the linking theme in 12.14-21, being repeated with variations no less than four times (14, 17, 19, 21) and given the place of emphasis at beginning and end (14, 21). And the advice in 13.1-7 is in fact a call for good citizenship, on the assumption, no doubt partly at least, that civil disorder and strife benefits no one (least of all the little people). Overall, Paul of all people will have been well aware that good citizenship was also a missionary strategy which commended the gospel to those of good will.

Here again we have to recognize the political realities within which these first Christian churches had to exist. There was no possibility for them to exercise political power such as the democracies of the twentieth century take for granted. The responsibilities of ancient government were exercised by a few by right of birth, connection, wealth, or ruthless self-advancement. For the rest, the great majority, there was no political power and no realistic hope of wielding it. It was hardly even thinkable for Paul, then, that his Roman readership could or should try to change social and political structures. Nor is there any indication that the unrest in Palestine was an influence on Paul or the Roman churches, or that a Zealot-like option even crossed his mind. At the same time, neither did Paul advocate a policy of withdrawal from the corruption of the metropolis, as though the desert or the Qumran alternative could provide a model for Christians in general or for Roman Christians in particular. Political realism for Paul meant living within the political system, even if it meant to a large extent living on the terms laid down by that system. This too was part of the eschatological tension.

24.3 Living with fundamental disagreements - Rom. 14.1-15.6

In the second half of his paraenesis in Romans Paul turns from relationships with the world to relationships within the congregation. The fact that he makes this section the climax of his exhortation and gives such space to it indicates two important points. First, the situation envisaged was a real one, affecting most if not all of the Roman congregations. As is now generally agreed, here most of all we can be sure that Paul was not merely passing on generalized advice, but had in view the actual situation among the Roman churches. Second, we can also justly infer that the issue was one of considerable importance for all parties, and one whose resolution was integral to Paul's own understanding of the gospel and its corporate outworking.

a) The theological issue. The issue which was evidently causing some deeply felt anxieties and strife among the Roman Christians is stated briefly in 14.2: "Someone has faith to eat everything; but the weak person eats [only] vegetables." As the following treatment makes clear, this was the principal bone of contention. But 14.5 indicates a secondary cause of unrest: "Someone judges one day to be more important than another; another judges every day to be alike." For twentieth-century readers such language quickly evokes thoughts of modern disagreements about healthy eating and Sabbatarianism. But these modern parallels would be very misleading. What was at stake was much more profound and fundamental in character.

As most now also agree, the issue focused on Jewish perception of the importance of the traditional food laws and Sabbath. It is true that the language is not quite as specific as that, and some have argued that other or more general religious practices are in view. But the whole letter has been oriented to the issue of Jew and Gentile. It would be odd, then, if this final, so full section was differently oriented. On the contrary, it is notable how natural and straightforward is the transition from this section (14.1-15.6) to the final rounding off paragraph once again on Jew and Gentile (15.7-13).44 And the issue is put beyond reasonable doubt by the talk of "clean" and "unclean" in 14.20 and 14.14, since the former (kathams) is characteristically Jewish and the latter (koinos) distinctively Jewish terminology. Almost certainly, therefore, Paul had in view traditional Jewish sensitivities regarding clean and unclean as crucial laws regulating practice at the meal table. Such Jewish traditional scruples were well known in the ancient world, as were also the traditional Jewish festivals and the distinctively Jewish observation of one day in seven as a day of rest.

All this is not to say that the parties in Rome can simply be categorized as Jewish and Gentile. For a feature of the contemporary references to such characteristic and distinctively Jewish traditions is the attractiveness of these traditions to many Gentiles. And Paul was by no means the only Christian Jew who sat loose to these distinctives of traditional Judaism. Nevertheless, what was at issue and at stake in the dispute over food and special days among the Roman congregations was evidently the continuing importance of these observances, given their traditional importance as integral parts of Jewish heritage.

To grasp the seriousness of the crisis confronting the Roman house churches - and crisis is not too strong a word - it is necessary to recall just how fundamental these traditions were for Jewish identity. The laws of clean and unclean were a major part of the Torah (Leviticus 12-13), central to Israel's holiness and distinctiveness (Lev. 20.22-26), a marker of covenant identity hallowed by the blood of the martyrs (1 Macc. 1.62-63). The Sabbath was only a little less important in its role of expressing both the commitment of the covenant people and their belongingness to Yahweh. What was at stake, then, was the complex issue of continuity between Israel and the church of God, of the identity of the church as defined by that continuity, of Christian Jews' loyalty to their hallowed heritage, so much part of themselves. The issue had already been at the centre of major debates within the new Christian movement, but it had evidently not yet been resolved in a way acceptable to all. In short, the dispute was about fundamental issues of personal identity and community formation. How Paul handled it was crucial for the future of Roman Christianity.

b) The social context. We can fill out the social context of the dispute with the aid of a little detective work. We know that there was at this time a very substantial Jewish population in Rome. It is generally agreed that the first churches would have begun within the penumbra of the various synagogues and would have been initially mainly Jewish in character. We also know that many Jews, including Christian Jews, had been expelled from Rome in accordance with the decree of Emperor Claudius in 49 ce. The inference to be drawn, not least from the presence of such as Priscilla and Aquila once again in Rome (16.3-5), is most probably that, following the death of Claudius (54 ce), the decree had been relaxed and Jews began to return to Rome to pick up where they had left off.

At this point we can draw in our text. For the opening sentence of Paul's exhortation is not about differences of dietary practice. It is a call to "welcome the one who is weak in faith, though not with a view to settling disputes" (14.1). The implication is that the character of the Roman churches had changed significantly during the absence of their original Jewish leadership. They were now predominantly Gentile in composition and Gentile Christian in ethos. In consequence, returning Christian Jews were finding it difficult to adapt to the new situation and to find what they (and Paul) regarded as genuine acceptance. Paul thus was dealing with a major social as well as theological problem. The issue was precisely how faith and practice interact, how and where faith should be resolute, and how and where ecclesiastical context should temper not just the expression of faith, but faith itself.

c) The principles. The first principle on which Paul draws becomes apparent at once - that of faith. This comes out in Paul's initial description of the different parties. These are quite often denoted summarily as "the weak" (14.1-2) and "the strong" (15.1). But in introducing them Paul takes care to describe the former more fully as "the weak in faith" (14.1) and the latter more fully as one who "has faith to eat everything" (14.2). And the summary statement of the basic principle undergirding Christian conduct towards the end of his discussion makes the same point: Christian conduct grows out of and as the expression of faith (14.22-23). "The strong" were not, then, as we might have expected, those who held strongly to their traditional heritage and identity markers or, as they would no doubt have said, to fundamental elements of their traditional faith and practice. On the contrary, Paul regarded such people, rather pejoratively, as "weak," that is, "weak in faith." In Paul's perspective they were trusting in something other than God alone. They were trusting in God plus continued observance of clean and unclean and special days. They were implying by their priorities that there could be no real trust in God apart from such observances. In contrast, "the strong" were "strong in faith," like Abraham of old (4.18-21), trusting in God and his Christ alone.

A second crucial principle is the primacy of the individual's relation to his or her own Lord. Each stands before her or his own Lord in acceptance, commendation, and judgment (14.4-12). In the comparable discussion in 1 Corinthians 8-10, Paul evokes the principle of conscience. But here the thought is more of the immediacy of participation in Christ and in the Spirit (14.17). The echo of the triple aspects of the beginning of salvation (faith, Lord, Spirit) is a reminder once again of the way gospel and praxis interlocked for Paul.

Also important, thirdly, are the allusions back to Jesus' own teaching and practice. The basic axiom undergirding Paul's own conduct is clearly spelled out: "I know and am convinced in the Lord Jesus that nothing is unclean in itself" (14.14), though he also adds, anticipating 14.23, "except that to the one who reckons something unclean, to that person it is unclean" (14.14). We have already noted the echo of Mark 7.15 So too the probable allusion to Jesus' teaching on the kingdom of God in 14.17 The connection of thought between 14.14 and 17 most likely indicates a recollection of Jesus' own disregard of the laws of clean and unclean in his own table fellowship, as a foreshadowing of the coming kingdom, as reflected also in his own experience of the Spirit. To be noted is the fact that it is just this implicit appeal to Jesus tradition and to the precedent provided by Jesus which gave Paul the justification for disregarding previously authoritative scripture and tradition (the laws of clean and unclean). Not least of importance is the climax of the exhortation in the explicit appeal to the example of Christ (15.1-3) and in the summons to "live in harmony among yourselves in accordance with Christ Jesus" (15.5) 66 and to "welcome one another as Christ also welcomed you" (15.7).

In the same connection we can hardly avoid noting the explicit appeal to the principle of love: "for if your brother is deeply upset on account of food, you are no longer conducting yourself in terms of love" (14.15). Paul continues: "Do not by your food destroy that one for whom Christ died" (14.15). So we can take it for granted that Paul saw Jesus' sacrificial death as an example of love for "the weak" (5.6).67 Paul, in other words, would not see the several principles analysed here as distinct. In this case the two references to Christ's death and resurrection (14.9, 15) provide a note of warning against usurping Christ's role in judgment (14.10-12) as well as a motivation to self-denying action (14.15-21).

Also to be noted is the twofold appeal once again to a broader recognition of "the good." In 14.16 Paul urges: "do not let your good be brought into contempt." The implication is that insensitive conduct among the members of the Roman congregations could make a bad impression on neighbours and casual acquaintances. The vulnerability to Roman suspicions of strange cults and societies is again hinted at. But the main thought is of the bad effect of such impressions on Christian witness. Finally, in 15.2 Paul again urges: {p. 685}

"let each of us please his neighbour with a view to what is good, for upbuilding." Here the assumption is that "the good" is to be identified as the same as that which builds up the church. In the end of the day the criterion for social conduct and relationships is the same as the criterion for recognizing charisms.

d) The practice. The threat to Christian community in Rome was the clash of two fundamentals, each held by the one group in opposition to the other - the fundamental of constitutive tradition and practice, and the fundamental of liberty of faith in Christ. The symptoms of this clash were clear. The first symptom was an unwillingness to accept, to welcome the other. This is given out initially as the primary responsibility of "the strong in faith" (14.1). But Paul's final and summary counsel is to "welcome one another, as Christ also welcomed you" (15.7). So the responsibility was mutual.

The second symptom was the attitudes of the one to the other: "Let the one who eats not despise the one who does not eat, and let not the one who does not eat pass judgment on the one who eats" (14.3).69 The language is very striking and reveals a penetrating insight on Paul's part into the psychology of group conflict. As repeated experience within Christian history reminds us, those who stand on the fundamental of Christian liberty will be tempted to "despise," to hold in contempt the more traditional70 - to despise them for what "the strong" regard as the narrowness of their scruples. At the same time, those who stand on the fundamental of constitutive tradition will tend to "judge" or condemn the more liberal - or judge them because they regard "the strong" as having abandoned or fatally compromised the bene esse if not the esse itself of Christian tradition and identity.

In response to this clear threat Paul addresses himself first primarily to "the weak in faith" (14.3-12) and then primarily to "the strong in faith" (14.13-15.6).

Paul's immediate response to the more traditionalist Christian Jews was to challenge both their condemnation of the others and its theological {p. 686} basis. That is to say, he challenged them to recognize that the faith they espoused was larger or more fundamental than their own definition of it. He challenged them to recognize that the determiner of acceptability to God was not their definition of faith, but the God in whom all believed. He challenged them to recognize that God accepted people whose views and practices they regarded as unacceptable. Paul pressed home the point with repeated emphasis (14.3-4) :

God has welcomed him. Who are you to condemn the slave of someone else? In relation to his own master he stands or falls. And he shall stand, for the master is able to make him stand.

This was the crucial step in Paul's pastoral strategy: to get the traditionalists actually to accept that someone who differed from them in something they regarded as fundamental might nevertheless genuinely believe in God's Christ and be accepted by God. The danger he clearly saw was that they were letting their own convictions shape their idea of God instead of vice versa, that they were worshiping a God made in their own image, that they were usurping a judgment proper only to Christ. The fundamental of faith alone required no further additions, and was more likely than not to be damaged rather than strengthened by such qualifications or "clarifications."

Paul's second piece of counsel was that "each should be fully convinced in his own mind" (14.5).73 Again clearly implied is the right before God to decide what is appropriate conduct for oneself, even in regard to some cherished but controverted traditions governing social behaviour. Paul also clearly accepted the inevitable corollary: that differing praxis would be the result. His point precisely is that two believers could have contrasting or even opposing convictions regarding appropriate conduct, and both be acceptable to God. It was not necessary for the one to be wrong for the other to be right. The conviction of the one was the determiner of that one's conduct (14.22-23), not a rule for the other and not a stick with which to beat or coerce the other.

Paul's third piece of advice recognizes the natural suspicions of the more traditional that those who sit loose to these traditions have actually abandoned their faith. For he provides an important rule of thumb for identifying conduct determined by faith (14.6):

The one who holds an opinion on the day does so to the Lord. And the one who eats does so to the Lord, for he gives thanks to God; and the one who does not eat does so to the Lord and gives thanks to God. {p. 687}

The rule of thumb is the ability to give thanks to God for the conduct followed. Only what can be received from God and offered to God in humble thankfulness counts as acceptable Christian conduct. That was a limiting factor, but it was also a liberating factor. The assumption in what follows is that such living from God and "to the Lord" was the measure used in God's own judgment (14.7-12). It should therefore preempt, render unnecessary, and indeed forbid all human judgment according to other norms and traditions (14.10, 12).

If the challenge to "the weak in faith" was primarily based on the principle of faith alone, the challenge to "the strong in faith" was based more directly on the principle of love as taught and exemplified by Christ. The attitude thus inculcated was the polar opposite of the contempt of the more liberal in despising and belittling the more traditional.

In the first place, it meant not browbeating "the weak in faith": "welcome [them], though not with a view to settling disputes" (14.1).75 Part of what it meant to respect those who had not (in the view of "the strong") sufficiently thought through the implications of their faith was to recognize that their convictions may be more instinctively held and be less clearly articulable. The instruction to the strong to keep their faith to themselves before God at the end of the chapter (14.22) matches the opening instruction, since it constitutes a further warning to all not to push their own convictions on others.

Secondly, Paul reminds "the strong in faith" of how seriously their more liberal conduct could affect the more scrupulous. The latter could be "deeply upset," even "destroyed" (14.15, 20). Paul evidently had in mind something more than hurt feelings or a sense of grievance on the part of "the weak" at seeing "the strong" acting in ways of which "the weak" disapproved. What was in view was the possibility of the conduct of "the strong" actually causing "the weak" to stumble (14.21). That is, by copying the conduct of "the strong," "the weak" might be encouraged to "eat with offence" (14.20),76 that is, to do what they still disapproved of, to act when conviction was unclear, and so to act "not of faith" (14.23). {688}

The strongest emphasis, however, is on the need for "the strong" to restrict their liberty by love for the other (14.13-15.3) :

Let us therefore ... decide not to put an occasion for offence or downfall in the brother's way. . . . For if your brother is deeply upset on account of food, you are no longer conducting yourself in terms of love. . . . It is a fine thing not to eat meat or drink wine nor do anything by which your brother stumbles.... 'We the strong ought to support the weaknesses of those without strength, and not to please ourselves. Let us each please his neighbour with a view to what is good, for upbuilding. For the Christ, too, did not please himself. . . .

The point is clear: the more liberal must take into account not only their own convictions in determining their actual conduct, but also the way their conduct affects their more traditionalist fellow Christians. The pattern is Christ. Christian liberty expresses itself as much in self-denial as in freedom from outmoded constraint. We can thus elaborate the earlier illustration of Christian liberty:

L........I........B........E........R........T........Y

strong.................................... weak

LICENSE __________________________ LEGALISM

L................O................V................E

F........A........I........T........H

To sum up. Paul would no doubt have recognized how considerable was the challenge he was putting before the Roman congregations. On the one hand, the challenge to recognize that traditions rooted in scripture and hallowed by history need not be determinative for acceptance by God. On the other, the challenge to go as far as possible in accommodating the different views of the other without compromising the most basic foundation of all - faith in God and in his Christ. In both cases the call was for genuine respect across the spectrum of faith and liberty, a respect which not only accepted those who differed on points of importance but which was also ready to defend the differing practices for the sake of the whole (as Paul was doing in this case).77

24.4 Living between two worlds: sexual conduct (1 Corinthians 5-6)

There are many points of contact between the paraenesis of the two letters, Romans and 1 Corinthians. But there is a striking difference. Romans seems

77. Summed up in the words of 14.14: "I know and am convinced in the Lord Jesus that nothing is unclean in itself, except that to the one who reckons something unclean, to that person it is unclean." {p. 689}

to envisage churches which, however much they were in contact with the surrounding society and culture, were nevertheless quite distinct from them. The principal concerns of Rom. 12.9-13.14 are for a church confronted by an all too hostile world. The concerns of Rom. 14.1-15.6 are essentially for the dynamics of internal relationships within the church. In contrast, 1 Corinthians was dealing with a church where the boundaries were by no means so clear, where the ethical issues arose precisely because believers shared many of the moral values of the surrounding society or were genuinely caught between the conflicting values of church and society. The ethics of living between two worlds give a different slant to Paul's paraenesis in 1 Corinthians. We need only illustrate the point from a number of examples, beginning with the issue of sexual conduct in 1 Corinthians 5-6.

We have already noted Paul's unyielding hostility to porneia, "unlawful sexual intercourse" (5.5). That is not to say he was hostile to sexual relations as such, as we shall see (24.5). It was the abuse of sex to which he was opposed, and that abuse covered the whole range of illicit sexual practice, including homosexual practice and sexual immorality in general. This is significant because it was one of the points which marked out Christian churches from other religious cults and from the broader ethos of the day. Sexual mores were generally much more relaxed in the Hellenistic world. Paul, however, in deliberate contrast, stood foursquare within the Jewish tradition, as indicated in Rom. 1.24-27.81

The question naturally arises why he should have held so firmly to Jewish tradition at this point when he qualified and abandoned it at so many others which equally affected human relationships. In this letter, in which he envisaged such lively social intercourse with the world (5.10), why did he not also accommodate more relaxed sexual behaviour? The answer presumably is that Paul retained from his Jewish upbringing a sharp sense of the danger {p. 690} of uncontrolled epithymia, of the legitimate "desire" which can all too quickly be corrupted into "lust." Perhaps we should say that it was a realistic appreciation of the strength of the sexual drive, a power both to create life and cement relationship (7.3-5), but a power also to corrupt and destroy (cf. Rom. 7.7-ll).83

Given this unyielding attitude, it is hardly surprising, that the first ethical issue Paul turned to in 1 Corinthians was porneia (5.1-5), indeed a form of porneia "not found even among the Gentiles" - a man living with his father's wife (5.1). Paul's attitude was clear: the person should be removed from their midst (5.2). The full circumstances are rather obscure. Paul does not identify the person. His rebuke is directed more to the church than to the individual himself. And in exercising the appropriate discipline Paul's concern was as much to encourage the church to take on the responsibility itself. This raises the intriguing possibility that the individual concerned was himself a rather prominent person, perhaps one of the congregation's initial patrons. If so, Paul's refusal to countenance any thought of compromise is all the more striking. The sentence advocated is also obscure, though it purports to have the individual's best interests at heart (5.5).85 But the ethical concerns are clear: to leave such conduct uncondemned invites a general corruption of standards. Given the mutual interdependence of the body of Christ (20.4), one diseased member might well spread disease throughout the body; the spiritual health of the community as a whole was at stake (5.6-8).86 And the {p. 691} final command is uncompromising: "Drive out the wicked person from among you" (5.13).87

In terms of the spectrum of Christian liberty, here was conduct which obviously went far into the realm of unacceptable license. A loving concern for the individual involved is still protested - and the policy may have succeeded (2 Cor. 2.5-11 ).88 But the case went clearly beyond the liberty of practice which should be free of condemnatory judgment. The breach of the law as continuing guidelines for Christian conduct was too blatant and clear-cut.

Others of the Corinthians were evidently open to the possibility of retaining their former sexual mores (6.11) and were prepared to justify continued resort to slaves or courtesans/prostitutes for sexual release and pleasure (6.12).89 Paul was equally adamant that such conduct was wholly unacceptable for Christians. In this case the rationale is twofold. Such self-indulgence quickly becomes a form of slavery (6.12) - slavery to flesh and once again to lust. It indicates a perspective rooted in and restricted to this ephemeral world (6.13-14). More to the point, the primary relationship for the believer was now the relationship with Christ, through the indwelling Spirit. Anything which weakened or compromised that should not even be contemplated by believers (6.15-20).

In short, in a situation where loyalties and relationships overlapped more fully than in most of Paul's other churches (so far as we can tell), Paul insisted that the Corinthian church draw a firm and distinct boundary line in terms of acceptable and unacceptable sexual practice. The criteria were the clear teaching of scripture and tradition and the character of commitment to Christ and dependence on the Spirit as ruling out any self-indulgence which compromised either.

24.5 Living between two worlds: marriage and divorce (1 Corinthians 7)

Peter Brown observes that 1 Corinthians 7 is "the one chapter that was to determine all Christian thought on marriage and celibacy for well over a millennium." It is unfortunate, then, that so much of the discussion of the {p. 692} passage, present as well as past, has been dominated by the assumption that Paul's own sexual ethic was basically ascetic in character91 and that he promoted the idea of marriage and sexual relationships as a second best.

This dominant view obviously builds on two undeniable features of the passage. One is Paul's own clearly stated preference for the unmarried state: "I wish that all were as I am" (7.6); 93 "those who marry will have affliction in regard to the flesh,94, and I would spare you that" (7.28); "he who marries his virgin does well, and he who does not marry her does better" (7.38); "in my opinion she [a widow] is happier if she remains as she is [and does not marry again]" (7.40). The other is Paul's sense that the present age will not be long drawn out: "the time is short" (7.29); 95 "the form of this world is passing away" (7.31).96 In the interim, "those who have wives should be as though they had none" (7.29). It is also clear from the thrust of 7.25-35 that the two concerns hang together. A large part of the reason for Paul's preference for the unmarried state is his conviction that the time is so short. The whole of that section stands under the opening statement, "I think that {p. 693} on account of the present distress (ananke) 91 it is well for a person to continue as he is" (7.26).

However, at the same time, too little weight has been given to two other factors. One is that Paul was evidently responding to a series of questions posed by the Corinthians themselves - as indicated by the letter's first use of peri de ("now, concerning ...") in 7.1 and its repetition in 7.25. This probably indicates that the Corinthians' letter put a series of questions to Paul, first with regard to the married (7.1-24) and second with regard to the virgins98 and unmarried (7.25-38). The importance of this point is that it compels us to recognize that the scope of Paul's discussion was determined by the issues put to him." In other words, he did not set out to provide a theology of marriage. No doubt this was another element of scriptural teaching which he simply took for granted (cf. 1 Cor. 6.16). That presumably is why he makes no reference to what was generally regarded as the primary purpose of marriage - to procreate - although his allusion to children in v. 14 presumably indicates that he also took that as understood.

Recognition that the agenda of Paul's treatment was given to him also carries with it the implication that Paul's discussion took up from what the letter said. In particular, the probability is now widely agreed that the opening statement ("It is well for a man not to touch a woman" - 7.1) is a quotation from the Corinthians' letter. The fact that Paul's advice was probably {p. 694} adapted to meet the views of the Corinthians themselves has to be borne in mind in determining what Paul's own views were. At the very least it may mean that the note of asceticism reflects more the Corinthians' views than Paul's.

The other factor to be borne in mind is the one alluded to at the beginning of 24.4. The community in Corinth was only in process of developing its distinctively Christian character. The networks of relationships to which its members belonged crisscrossed the still ill-formed boundaries between church and society. The strains and stresses (eschatological tension) between the new loyalty to Christ and the still continuing loyalties to (unbelieving) spouse or master were evidently quite severe and stressful. In such circumstances Paul could not simply dictate a theology of marriage unrelated to actual situations. On the contrary, it was essential that he should direct his counsel to the real and pressing difficulties put to him by the Corinthians.

Against this background we can begin to see more clearly how careful and sensitive is the advice Paul gives. He stresses again that relationship in and to the Lord is primary. He refers to what authoritative Jesus tradition he has (7.10-11). He looks to the Spirit for guidance (7.40). He takes for granted the importance of "obeying the commandments of God" (7.19). He draws on the best of Stoic tradition insofar as it accords with traditional Jewish wisdom. He takes account of the realities of the Corinthian situation, caught as they were "between the ages" and between two worlds. In consequence, in seeking to answer the Corinthians' questions, he does not hesitate to express his own personal views, that being unmarried had enabled him to be so devoted to the affairs of the Lord. But he makes it clear that these are "opinions" and do not have the force of "commands." He leans over backwards to indicate that other options are just as acceptable to the Lord. And when we look at the counsel he actually gives, it becomes clear that his primary concern is with priorities and the realism with which they should be pursued, not to promote a particular attitude to marriage or marriage relations, or to promote a policy of asceticism.

Thus in the first paragraph (7.1 -7) Paul acknowledges the consequences of his own view of the dangers of porneia (6.12-20) : in effect, that marriage is the only appropriate context for sexual activity; or, as we might say, that marriage is the medium by which epithymia retains its positive role as "desire" {p. 695} and is prevented from degenerating into "lust" (7.2). However, his view of marriage itself is one of genuine partnership, in which active sexual relations are assumed to be the norm (7.3-4). If prayer takes priority for a time, it should be only by mutual consent and the time should be limited (7.5). He recognizes explicitly that charisms are different for different people (7.7). In the case in point that amounts to the affirmation that particular dedication to prayer (a spiritual retreat?) and the concomitant self-control are enablings of the Spirit, not given to all by any means. Those who lack such a charism are not at fault, any more than those not graced with the charism of prophecy.

In the second paragraph (7.8-16) he first applies the same logic to the unmarried and widows contemplating (re) marriage; in the continuing present age, marriage remains the appropriate and essential setting for sexual relations (7.8-9).uo Turning to those caught in unhappy or failing marriages,111 he cites the norm of Jesus' own teaching: that divorce should not be countenanced, or, failing that ideal, a separated partner should not marry someone else (7.10-11). But he is quick to acknowledge that the situation of some of the Corinthian believers introduced a new factor, not obviously envisaged by

105. The rather limited view of marriage here, we should note again, is determined partly by the preceding line of thought in chs. 5-6 and partly by the questions of the Corinthians (that is, no doubt, by the way they put the questions to Paul). Somewhat surprisingly Martin concludes from 7.9b ("it is better to marry than to burn") that Paul wanted to preclude desire altogether (Corinthian Body 212-17); "Christians are to avoid desire completely ... the function of marriage for Paul is to quench desire" (216; though the chapter does not mention epithymia explicitly). But the implication of 7.5, 9a, and 36 is rather that sexual desire in marriage is entirely natural and proper. In 1 Thes. 4.5 it is the doubling of the terms ("in passion of desire") which indicates the uncontrolled nature of the desire in view.

{p. 696}

Jesus' command. That is to say, the fact that one of the partners had not become a Christian made some difference. In those circumstances the continuation of the relationship depended on the consent of the unbelieving partner. The priority in this case was the avoidance of bitter strife between partners and across the boundaries of the church (7.15). The status of children of such partnerships within the realm of the holy (among "the saints") was not a competing priority since it was unaffected by the unbelief of the unbelieving spouse (7.14).

Paul adds a reminder that present status (circumcised or uncircumcised, slave or free) is not a determining factor in standing before God (7.17-24). The priority is "keeping the commandments of God" (7.19). The primary relationship is the relationship with Christ (7.22-23) and with God (7.24). All other identity factors and relationships are relative to these primary matters. So there is no need to change from one status to another; either way the priority remains the same.

In responding to the second set of questions (7.25-38) Paul follows the same line of thought. The present crisis and the shortness of the time (7.26, 29) do not change the priorities, but sharpen them. The degree of relativi-zation of present relations is increased. But that cuts both ways: marriage can be equally affirmed, or the prospect of marriage refused, without committing sin (7.27-28). Those who marry may have "trouble for the flesh" (7.28), but there is no attempt to promote ascetic views or practices as such. Nor can the ethical principle which emerges be defined solely as an "interim ethic." It is the primacy of the affairs of the Lord, rather than simply the imminence of his coming, which relativizes (not abolishes or diminishes) all other concerns.

That Paul's concern is for the priority of maintaining the relationship with Christ is still clearer in 7.32-35. His anxiety is that the responsibilities attendant upon the marital relation will somehow detract from or compete with the relation to Christ. But his concern, he states explicitly, is not to lay {p. 697} any restraint (brochon) on them,116 and not to advocate any particular lifestyle, but only to ensure that their priorities as believers remain clear. Similarly for the man and his betrothed (7.36-38). Of course they should marry if they so desire. It is no sin to do so; they do well. Paul's personal preference would be otherwise, but he still encourages them to act according to their convictions.

It should be clear from all this that Paul speaks with the voice of the deeply caring pastor. Where he has a word from the Lord he cites it and expects it to be followed. He draws on traditional ethical insights, both Jewish and Stoic. He indicates the importance of opinions formed in accord with the Spirit (7.40), but also recognizes that believers are differently engraced (by the same Spirit, 7.7). He makes clear his own preferences as one considered trustworthy by the Lord (7.25). He senses the urgency of the times. He stresses the need to keep priorities clear and honoured. But otherwise he leans over backwards to acknowledge the complexity of the Corinthians' situation and to accommodate the proper desires of those he seeks to counsel. He does not seek to deny marriage or to constrain sexual relations within marriage or to promote any real degree of asceticism. Unlike his counsel elsewhere in the same letter,119 his advice is remarkably nonprescriptive. Such a sensitive attempt to blend authoritative tradition, personal opinion, and pragmatic counsel which respects real-life situations, and all under the priority of faith, ought to be accorded more positive commendation.

24.6 Living between two worlds: slavery (1 Cor. 7.20-23)

Although Paul says little on the subject in 1 Corinthians, the fact of slavery raised important questions for early Christian ethics, as other letters (particularly Philemon) indicate. Paul's treatment of the subject has also been vulnerable to criticism because it seems too accepting and unquestioning of slavery as an institution. Three points should be made at once, therefore, by way of clarification.

First, slavery had not yet come to be thought of as immoral or necessarily degrading. It was simply the means of providing labour at the bottom end of {p. 698} the economic spectrum. Second, slavery was an established fact of life in the ancient world. As many as one-third of the inhabitants of most large urban centres were slaves. The economies of the ancient world could not have functioned without slavery. Consequently, a responsible challenge to the practice of slavery would have required a complete reworking of the economic system and a complete rethinking of social structures, which was scarcely thinkable at the time, except in idealistic or anarchic terms. Third, in principle slavery was antithetical to the Greek idealization of freedom,122 and to sell oneself as a slave was a device of last resort for someone in debt. At the same time, slaves could be well educated, and, if masters were figures of substantial social status and power, their slaves could themselves be entrusted with considerable responsibility. Moreover, the economic status of the freedman could well be as bad as or even worse than that of the slave: under Greek law, freedom might be only partial and limited with regard to employment and movement; 124 and the impoverished freedman in subservient client relationship to his former master might well recall with longing his former security as a slave.

We should not be surprised, therefore, that Paul's advice to slaves is as ambivalent as it seems to be. In 1 Cor. 7.20-24 Paul encourages his readers (slaves included) to "remain in that [the situation] in which [they] were called" (7.20, 24). Slaves should not be "troubled" (meleto) 126 about their status as slaves, but if they were able to be free they should "take advantage of it" (7.21). What matters is the primary relation to the Lord. That relativizes {p. 699} all other relations. In relation to the Lord the slave is a free person and the freeman is Christ's slave (7.22). Neither slaves nor freemen should allow any dependency on and obligation to others to become more important than their dependency on and obligation to Christ (7.23).

We find a similar ambivalence in Paul's advice to Philemon. Did he or did he not expect Philemon to free his slave Onesimus?128 Paul's main concern was evidently for a positive reconciliation between the two. He clearly did not expect Philemon to punish Onesimus, as Philemon might have claimed the right to do. And he left the door open to Philemon to respond with dignity and generosity in a way that would both maintain and display his honour. But equally clearly, the most important consideration was that the relation of both Philemon and Onesimus to the same Lord wholly relativized their relation to each other, even if that continued to be the relation of master and slave - "no longer as a slave, but more than a slave, as a beloved brother, especially to me, but how much more to you, both in the flesh and in the Lord" (Phm. 16).

The subsequent advice in the list of household rules in Col. 3.18-4.1 does not alter the picture of Paul's view of slavery in its essentials. The horizon of an imminent crisis may have lengthened. The Haustafeln may indicate a greater concern to demonstrate the good order of the Christian households and a consequent commitment to maintaining the orderly structure of society (23.7c). And the appeal for humanitarian treatment of slaves was quite common in philosophical discussion. But once again the clear teaching is that the primary relationship to Christ relativizes all else. The principle had already been indicated in 3.11 ("no slave, no free man, but Christ the all and in all"). In addressing slaves directly, as members equally of the church and as responsible Chirstian individuals (3.22-25), the advice goes beyond the contemporary parallels, which confine themselves to advising masters or discussing what instruction should be given to slaves. The call for masters to treat their slaves "with justice and equity" (4.1) assumes a higher degree of equality than was normal. And, above all, the repeated reference to the primary relationship to the Lord (for both slave and free) 134 highlights a fundamental criterion of human relationships which in the longer term was bound to undermine the institution of slavery itself.

24.7 Living between two worlds: social relations (1 Corinthians 8-10)

We have already dealt with three aspects of these chapters. But the bracketing discussion (8.1-13 and 10.23-11.1) calls for further comment.

Set in context, the immediate issue is evidently the acceptability or otherwise of believers eating eidolothyta, "meat offered to an idol." Some thought it acceptable: "an idol is nothing in the world" (8.4). For others it would be too much of a contradiction to their commitment (8.7-13). The reference to the latter as "the weak" suggests that the situation in view was similar to that envisaged in Romans 14. And the specific and repeated reference to idolatry137 strongly evokes the distinctively Jewish hostility to idols so much at the heart of Jewish faith and identity. That is to say, "the weak" were probably those who shared what were characteristically Jewish scruples about eating anything contaminated by idolatry.

Here too, however, we have to recognize that social tensions were probably involved. Many of "the weak" may well have belonged to the lower strata of society, who could not afford to include meat in their regular diet. The opportunities to eat quality meat may have been largely limited to the {p. 701} public distributions of meat at public ceremonies, at which the meat would have been dedicated to the presiding god or gods. For "the weak" the choice between a poor man's diet and acting against conscience would have been quite stark. The other side of the problem was that Christians of high social status and more fully integrated into the public life of the city would have found it difficult to avoid participating in such public functions and festivities. The picture was no doubt more complex. Those who were more fully integrated into public life were less likely to declare that "idols are nothing," in view of the offence it would cause. And Gentile God-fearers previously attracted (inter alia) by Jewish hostility to idols might already have found themselves pulled two ways. In other words, we have to allow for a more complex historical reality (including tensions of social dissonance and status inconsistency) if we are to hear Paul's instruction in relation to the actual situation in Corinth.

How did Paul respond in this instance? The usual understanding of Paul's advice in the matter is that it disregarded traditional Jewish sensibilities: the Paul who counseled the Corinthians not to raise questions (meden anakrinontes) about the source of the meat served (10.25, 27) was no longer governed by the characteristically Jewish antipathy to idolatry so fundamental to Jewish identity. The issue of Christian liberty144 and desirability for Christians to maintain social involvement and responsibilities (10.23-30) had taken precedent. The parallel with Romans 14 seems to settle the issue.

However, the differences between the two passages have not been given sufficient consideration. For one thing, whereas Rom. 14.1-15.6 was primarily about unclean food, the issue in Corinth was one of idol food (eidolothyta). For another, as already noted, the tensions in the Roman congregations were purely internal, within their own boundaries, confronting a threatening society; whereas those in the Corinthian church arose precisely because various members thought it important to maintain relations across the {p. 702} boundaries, to continue involvement within the wider society. And for another, the fact that Paul uses different criteria in the two discussions may be more significant than the consensus view assumes: "faith," so central in Romans 14,146 does not feature in 1 Corinthians 8-10; and "conscience," so determinative in 1 Corinthians 8-10,147 does not appear in Romans 14. Why this should be so is unclear. Perhaps "conscience" was the word used in the Corinthian letter. And nothing in the preceding discussion of 1 Corinthians had prepared its recipients to understand "faith" appropriately, in the way that Romans 4 prepared for Romans 14. It is true that the role filled by "conscience" is more or less equivalent, at least to the extent that it evoked the similar awareness of a living relationship with Christ damaged by ill-considered action. But it is nevertheless significant that whereas "faith" was the appropriate criterion for an internal issue, "conscience" was evidently regarded as the more appropriate court of appeal in a boundary-crossing issue (cf. Rom. 2.15).

More weighty for us, however, is the question whether the consensus view on Paul's attitude to idol food in effect constitutes an abandonment of Israel's traditional hostility to idolatry. That view should itself now be abandoned. (1) It assumes that the only meat available for believers would have come from the local temples, and therefore would have been unavoidably "contaminated" with idolatry. In these circumstances, Paul's readiness to envisage Christians eating such meat (10.25, 27) would indeed fly in the face of traditional Jewish antipathy to idolatry. But Paul's very counsel not to ask questions regarding the source of the meat offered (10.25, 27) should have been sufficient indication that meat was available from other sources, and Meggitt's summary study confirms the point.

(2) It ignores Paul's hostility to idolatry, clearly attested elsewhere in his letters. That is to say, elsewhere Paul clearly stands foursquare within the Jewish tradition on this point. And his attitude to idols in the main body {703} of 1 Corinthians 8-10 in fact stands within the same tradition: in particular, we have already observed the echo of Deut. 32.17, 21 in 1 Cor. 10.20-21. It would be strange if his advice a few verses later ran so much counter to his otherwise consistent attitude on the subject. Certainly we have no indication anywhere else that Paul himself ever ate idol food.

(3) In some ways the most striking fact is that subsequent early church writers show no awareness that Paul condoned the eating of idol food or felt the need to defend him against those who themselves saw no problem in eating idol food. In other words, there was no knowledge then of the current consensus interpretation that Paul sat light to the eating of idol food. When those closer to the thought world of Paul and closer to the issue of idol food show no inkling of the current interpretation, that interpretation is probably wrong.

How then should we characterize Paul's advice and instruction? The most straightforward exegesis is that Paul counseled the avoidance of meals at which it was known beforehand that idol food would be served. That effectively ruled out public or private meals within temple precincts: to participate in a temple meal would inevitably be seen by others as consenting to the idolatrous worship of the temple. Also ruled out were meals in private homes where it was clear beforehand that idol food was likely to be served. At the same time, we should note that his counsel (10.25-28) envisaged the possibility of believers actually consuming idol food (unknowingly). So it was not the idol food per se which constituted "dangerous food," but eating {p. 704} it knowing it to be idol food. Paul's traditional Jewish antipathy to idols was qualified at least to the extent that he put no obligation on his fellow believers to avoid idol food at all costs or to parade their consciences in the matter by making scrupulous enquiry beforehand. To that extent, Paul's citation of Ps. 24.1 (10.26) 158 echoes the more liberal view of Rom. 14.14, 20, as indeed the more liberal practice of diaspora Jews who maintained a lively social intercourse with non-Jews. In so advising, Paul himself also in effect encouraged the Corinthian believers to maintain their social contacts within the wider community.

Other factors which evidently weighed with Paul in this tricky issue are also evident. As also the firmness and sensitivity of his pastoral concern. (1) The priority of relation with God160 and with Christ161 is assumed. Although the weak are never directly addressed (unlike Romans 14-15), Paul makes the giving of thanks at the meal the test of conduct which should be acceptable to all (as in Rom. 14.6). Likewise he stresses that the primary basis for all human conduct is giving glory to God (10.31). (2) As also in Romans, appeal is made both to the death of Christ and to the example of Christ (11.1). The motivation and norm of "love" are given first place (8.1, 3). At the equivalent point in the resumption of the theme, the concern for "the other" (10.24) echoes the love command (as in Rom. 13.8). (3) Christian liberty is to be affirmed, but also to be constrained by its consequences on others. He rebukes the attitude which prizes too highly its own insight, which does not seek to build up the community, and which discounts too casually the deeply felt conscientious objections of "the weak" (8.1-3, 7-13). (4) The criterion of "what builds up the community" is evoked in both sections, again as a primary consideration. (5) And even more explicitly than in Romans (Rom. 14.16) the effect of Christian carping against Christian, {705} both the effect on the surrounding society and its deleterious consequences for Christian missionary work, are stressed and given the place of final, concluding consideration (10.31-33).

Theissen describes Paul's strategy here as "love-patriarchalism" which "allows social inequalities to continue but transfuses them with a spirit of concern, or respect, and of personal solicitude." But that does not take sufficient account of the extent to which Paul expected the socially strong to modify their behavior in deference to the needs of the socially weak. Nor does it reckon sufficiently with the dynamic of the church's own community formation, where a genuine commitment to the same Lord, the resulting bond among those who had made the same commitment,169 and a shared concern for the church's upbuilding could be appealed to with confidence. Here not least we should recall that reference to the bonding effect of shared participation in the Lord's Supper lies at the heart of ch. 10 (10.16-17), and that it is the resulting sense of responsibility for one another as members of the same body to which Paul appeals (10.23-24) as the crucial factor in determining social relationships both within the church and across its boundaries.

24.8 The collection

It is appropriate to round off this review of (some of) the ethical issues with which Paul dealt by referring, finally, to the collection. This was the enterprise on which he set his heart some time early in his Aegean mission, if not earlier. The objective was for the mainly Gentile churches founded by Paul to make a (financial) collection to help relieve the poor fellow Christians in Jerusalem. It is appropriate to deal with it here for several reasons.

First, it was the enterprise which became more and more of a priority for Paul as his Aegean mission drew to a close. He refers to it more frequently {p. 706} than any other good work he advocated. It was delivery of the collection which took him back to Jerusalem for the last time, even though he was nervous regarding the outcome (Rom. 15.31). And in the event it was the reaction to that visit (and the collection?) which triggered the sequence which ended in his journey to Rome and eventual execution.

Second, it is not accidental that this is the subject with which Paul closes the body of his letter to the Romans (15.25-32). That confirms its peculiar significance for Paul. And since this whole study has attempted to flesh out the structure of Paul's theology indicated by Romans, it is fitting to round off the study by thus echoing Paul's own climactic and concluding concern.

Third, and most important of all, the collection sums up to a unique degree the way in which Paul's theology, missionary work, and pastoral concern held together as a single whole. This point deserves some elaboration. In each case we should note the consistency of Paul's language and thought across the three main letters (Romans, 1 and 2 Corinthians). As might be expected, the fullest treatment (2 Corinthians 8-9) is the most illuminating.

a) Most striking is Paul's theology of "grace." The term charts appears no less than ten times in 2 Corinthians 8-9, and again in 1 Cor. 16.3. The range of usage is quite remarkable and highly instructive. Paul uses it, of course, for "the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ" in his act of generous self-sacrifice (2 Cor. 8.9). But he uses it also for the Corinthians' experience of that grace, as something which they could well recall (8.1; 9.14) and look to in the future (9.8). And he uses the same term in 8.6-7 and 19 to indicate the collection itself as "grace," a "gracious work" or "gift" (1 Cor. 16.3), where charis ("grace") has become more or less equivalent to charisma ("charism"). Evidently, then, for Paul it was the character of grace that it should come to expression in generous action. Grace, we might say, had only been truly experienced when it produced gracious people. In 8.4 we find what might be called the transitional usage - "begging us earnestly for the charis and the sharing (koinonia) in the service (diakonia) to the saints." Charis here seems to signify the (sense of) engracement which prompted the Macedonians {p. 707} to contribute to the collection beyond their means (8.2-3),176 the sense both of having received grace themselves and of participation in the collection as a privilege to be earnestly requested. The complementary use of chads in its related sense of "thanks," that is, here, of thanks for such divine prompting (8.16) and for God's "inexpressible gift" (9.15), completes the circle of grace - from God as grace, to humans and through humans as gracious action, and back to God as thanks.

The twofold emphasis on "righteousness" in 9.9-10178 confirms that Paul shared the scriptural emphasis on the interconnection of the vertical and the horizontal: that God's righteousness as Creator produces a harvest of righteousness in kindly acts of service on behalf of others (cf. Phil. 1.11), or, as the prophets would insist, that righteous acts are the inevitable consequence and outworking of the experience of God's righteousness. Worthy of note also is the fact that Paul does not hesitate to speak of the Corinthians' participation in the collection as "the obedience of your confession with respect to the gospel of Christ" (1 Cor. 9.13), where "the obedience of your confession (he hypotage tes homologias hymon) " is obviously another way of speaking of "the obedience of faith (hypakoê pisteôs) " (Rom. 1.5).

b) Equally vivid is the illustration of Paul's theology of Israel. The most consistent feature across the three passages is the reference to the recipients of the collection as "saints." The intended reference is the Jerusalem church, the collection to be used for its poor members (Rom. 15.26). That Paul can refer to the Jerusalem church so consistently simply as "the saints" clearly implies that the Jerusalem church held a central place among all the churches, particularly in the continuity it provided between the "saints" of Israel in the past and the "saints" of the diaspora churches.

This is all the more striking in view of the tensions between Paul and Jerusalem so marked following the incident at Antioch. But that is evidently why the collection was so important for Paul. Not simply to help heal any breach; that goal is not explicitly stated, though possibly implied in the concern lest the collection not be "acceptable to the saints" (Rom. 15.31). But primarily as an expression of the Gentile churches' spiritual indebtedness to Jerusalem: "for if the Gentiles have received a share in their spiritual things, they ought also to minister to them in material things" (15.27). Whereas in other circumstances Paul had been quick to emphasize the directness with which the gospel to the Gentiles had come from Christ (Gal. 1.12), here he emphasizes that Jerusalem had been an indispensable medium. This is precisely because the pneumatika ("spiritual blessings") which had come to the Gentile churches were the spiritual blessings of the Jerusalem church, "the spiritual things" which were an integral part of their heritage precisely as "the saints in Jerusalem." Here again we may note also the complementarity which Paul saw between receiving "spiritual things" and a responsive ministering in "material things."

c) The applied theology which is Paul's ecclesiology also comes through clearly in these chapters. As with chads, he emphasizes the practical character of koinonia. The shared "participation" in grace/Spirit (it is implied) should come to expression in the "sharing" of relative prosperity in "shared" ministry. That Christians will wish to "serve" one another Paul takes for granted. As elsewhere, the language of priestly ministry refers to such acts of practical service on behalf of others (9.12). Here it is especially noteworthy that the sharing and service are not limited to the local church or even to the churches of the region, but reach across the ocean to another church, one regarding which feelings were somewhat mixed. The interdependence of the body of Christ is not limited to relationships within individual congregations.189

Not least of interest is the several times Paul alludes to a process of. {p. 709} "testing" as part of the whole process. He speaks of the Macedonians' "great testing of affliction" (8.2), of "testing the genuineness/sincerity (gnesios) 191 of your [the Corinthians'] love" (2 Cor. 8.8), of his agent as "tested" (8.22), and of the collection itself as a "testing" (9.13). The effectiveness of even the charis(m) of welfare service depends on some measure of testing. In the same connection we note the appearance of the criteria used in Rom. 14.6 to determine the acceptability of divergent practices: the collection will "overflow in much thanksgiving to God" and in "glorifying God" (9.12-13).!92

d) Not least of interest is the way Paul brings the various principles governing Christian conduct to bear on this final issue. As already indicated, he clearly saw the collection as the sort of concern and conduct which will inevitably flow from the experience of grace received. Here we may note also the recall of the Macedonians' joy in the Lord (8.2),193 the reminder of the primacy of commitment to the Lord (8.5), and the repeated appeals to generosity (haplotes - 8.2; 9.11, 13). As we have seen, the thought of charts in fact dominates all in 2 Corinthians 8-9. "Faith" is alluded to only in 8.7; but then "faith" is the assumed correlative of "grace" for Paul, and we have already noted that "the obedience of your confession" (9.13) is equivalent to "the obedience of faith." "Spirit" is not mentioned, unless alluded to in 9.15; 194 but then "Spirit" and "grace" are near synonyms in Paul. In other words, the attitude inculcated in the talk of "grace" is that elsewhere inculcated through talk of faith's outworkings and the encouragement to walk in accordance with the Spirit.

The appeal to Christ's example and its inspiration is explicit in 8.5 and correlated with the appeal to love (8.8; also 8.24). More noticeable is the appeal to scripture - explicitly in 8.14 and 9.9 and 10, but with allusions also in 8.20 and 9.6-7. From what we have already seen we need entertain little {p. 710} doubt that Paul saw these different appeals as all of a piece. Not to be ignored is the degree to which Paul also made use of rhetorical and literary techniques of his time197 and his concern that his proposed plans should commend themselves as praiseworthy (kalos) before a wider public (8.21).

In view of our findings with regard to 1 Corinthians 7-10, not least of interest here is the pastoral sensitivity which Paul displays in encouraging the Corinthians' full and prompt participation in the collection. In ch. 8 he begins by commending to them the example of the Macedonian churches (8.1-5), as also the enthusiasm of others - particularly Titus (8.6, 16-17) 198 and the unnamed brother (8.22). To the same effect are the strong expressions of Paul's confidence in the Corinthians themselves so prominent in ch. 9 (9.1-3,13-14). He urges them strongly (8.7, 24), encourages the right attitude (9.7), and presses home his exhortation with scriptural promises (9.6-11). At the same time, he takes care to make it equally clear that he is not writing a "command" (8.8) but simply giving his "advice/opinion" (gnome - 8.10), the same distinction as in 1 Cor. 7.25. He wants them to contribute as an act of generosity (eulogia), not as an act of extortion (pleonexia) (9.5).

Throughout, Paul shows sensitivity to the Corinthians' own financial resources (8.12-15) and to the suspicions always likely to hang around such financial transactions (8.19-21; 9.5). He continues to express some qualms lest his confidence has been misplaced (9.3-5), just as elsewhere he expresses uncertainty as to the precise arrangements (1 Cor. 16.4) 200 and fear lest the whole enterprise fail in the event (Rom. 15.30-31). The resulting picture is not of a Paul striding confidently forward, riding roughshod over feelings and views of others. It is a picture rather of one with a basic conviction regarding the collection's importance, but conscious of the need to carry people with him, uncertain as to various aspects of it, and nervous about the final outcome. This final unbaring of his heart (Rom. 15.30-32) reveals to us not just Paul the theologian and pastor, but Paul the man.

24.9 Conclusion

In this final section we have been sampling a series of ethical issues with which Paul was confronted, to test how he applied in practice the principles {711} outlined in 23. In the event it has been the care with which Paul applied these principles in the light of the circumstances which has been the most consistent and most impressive feature. He certainly drew on the principles all the while in the course of his paraenesis. Not in any uniform or formal way, but nonetheless clearly and carefully. The tension and balance between, on the one hand, inward insight and motivation (faith, Spirit, liberty, and love) and, on the other, outward norm (scripture, Jesus tradition, what is generally recognized as good and noble) is maintained throughout.

The eschatological tension is particularly evident and inevitably shaped the thrust of the paraenesis. That meant full awareness of the powerlessness of the little congregations within the cities of the Roman Empire, the need to demonstrate good citizenship, and the importance of bearing in mind the impressions made on outsiders by relationships within the church. In other cases it meant recognition of the sometimes delicate situations of those church members living between two worlds. Here counsel had to be directed to helping them steer a careful course between the compromises inevitable in the already-not yet stage of the process of salvation and the compromises which involved too much still belonging to and being shaped by the values and priorities of the old world.

All the while Paul sought to encourage genuine respect across the spectrum of Christian liberty. And in his own counsel he showed a considerable pastoral sensitivity to the still fragile nature of much early discipleship and many of the first churches. In some cases it was evidently important for him to draw a definite line - illicit sexual practice and idolatry being the clearest examples. But in other cases what stands out is the mix of personal opinion clearly stated, recognition of deeply felt views and established tradition, and encouragement to discern and achieve the appropriate practice for themselves. That Paul sometimes spoke with irritation and the resulting advice is sometimes complicated simply underlines the complexity of the situations and the diversity of personalities with whom he had to deal. If in the end of the day the lasting impression is not just the principles which Paul enunciated for determining Christian conduct but the care with which he sought to live them out and the complications entailed, that is probably as Paul himself would have wished it.

Excerpt from J.D.G.Dunn: The Theology of Paul the Apostle
(London, T & T Clark, 1998); I am very grateful to Dr Dunn for his permission to include this excerpt here. PR.