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1. Pauline Christianity

Paul is a unique figure. As a Diaspora Jew from a Romanized family, who had received a good Greek education yet was proud of his Jewishness and knew the Septuagint well, he resembles Philo.¹ But in around 15 ce, when he was about twenty, he moved from Tarsus to Jerusalem, where he joined a circle of Pharisees, studying, according to Luke, under the great Rabbi Gamaliel (Acts22: 3).² For the next fifteen years or so he applied himself zealously to acquiring a detailed knowledge of the Torah, both written and oral. At some stage he also conceived a strong antipathy to the new sect of ‘Christians’ or

‘Messianists’.

The turning-point in his life came in about 33 ce when, for some unknown reason,³ he went to Damascus. There the appearance to him in a vision of the risen Christ produced in him a complete volte-face. The enemy of Christ became his most ardent propagandist. From that time Paul devoted himself to missionary work, first in the client kingdom of the Nabataean Arabs,⁴ and then in the eastern provinces of the Roman empire proper.

Although he continued to regard himself as a devout Jew faithful to the covenant,⁵ his conviction that the Torah could only be interpreted correctly in the light of Christ,⁶ and that Christ was the new Adam who had

1 Not only in his background but also in some aspects of his scriptural exegesis. See Chadwick 1965.

2 My sketch of Paul’s early life is based on the reconstruction by Jerome Murphy-O’Connor (1996).

3 Murphy-O’Connor discounts Luke’s version of the circumstances (Acts 9: 1–2) on the grounds of historical implausibility (1996: 65–70).

4 Murphy-O’Connor presents a persuasive argument (1996: 81–5) for not regarding Paul’s period in Arabia as a withdrawal for quiet reflection.

5 Bockmuehl points out that nowhere does Paul characterize his Damascus experience as a ‘conver-sion’, though some of his contemporaries may have viewed it differently (1990: 130–2).

6 Bockmuehl puts it well when he says that Christ became for Paul the ‘hermeneutical key’ or ‘ground rule’ ‘for the understanding of all revelation: whether in the gospel, in Scripture, or in creation’ (1990: 153).

re-established an authentic humanity for the benefit of the whole human race, led him from the outset to direct his efforts towards the Gentiles.

It is difficult to categorize the Christian communities that Paul founded in the cities of the eastern Mediterranean. The models available from the contemporary Graeco-Roman world include the private household, the voluntary cultic association, the Jewish synagogue and the philosophical or rhetorical school (Meeks 1983: 75–84). Pauline groups certainly met in private houses – the κκλησα κατ  ο1κον of so-and-so was the fundamental unit.⁷ With their initiatory rite and ritual meal they operated like voluntary associations.⁸ They had certain features in common with the Jewish com-munities in their cities, although they did not adopt the terminology and offices of the synagogue. In many respects they were also like the circles that gathered around charismatic teachers. Paul does not appear to have run a formal didaskaleion in the manner of Valentinus or Justin a century later, but it is reported by Luke that when faced with expulsion from the synagogue at Ephesus, Paul withdrew with his group and continued his teaching for two years in the lecture-hall of a certain Tyrannus (Acts 19: 9).⁹ For their social composition the Pauline groups drew on a wide cross-section of society.

They may not have included the distinguished citizens and philosophers who at about the same time were attending the lectures of Musonius Rufus, the Stoic moralist, at his school in Rome, but neither were they the nonentities that Paul for rhetorical effect made them out to be (cf. 1 Cor. 1: 27–8).

Among their number in Corinth was the patroness (προστα´τι) Phoebe, the synagogue leader (αρχισυναγγο) Crispus, and the municipal treasurer (ο'κονµο τ πλεω) Erastus.¹⁰ Such ‘upwardly mobile’ people were prob-ably not uncommon in early Christian circles. In Rome, for example, some of Paul’s people were members of the ‘household of Caesar’ (Phil. 4: 22), slaves or freedmen no doubt, but very likely important figures in the adminis-tration of the empire.

Although Paul may originally have felt that he could leave the communities he had founded to the care of the Spirit while he moved on to new urban centres, problems soon arose which required his intervention either in per-son or through letters of instruction and admonition. All Paul’s writings are occasional. But although he responds to particular situations, he does not develop his ideas haphazardly. There is an underlying coherence in the letters which derives from the strongly christological and soteriological orientation

7 Meeks1983: 75, citing H. Gülzow, ‘Die sozialen Gegebenheiten der altchristlichen Mission’, in H. Frohnes and U. W. Knorr (eds), Kirchengeschichte als Missionsgeschichte, vol. i, 1974, 198.

8 Cf. the cult association of the Iobacchi, Lane Fox 1986: 85–8.

9 Meeks 1983: 82. Paul’s letters show familiarity with the style and methods of professional rhetoricians; see Malherbe 1989.

10 Rom. 16: 2, 24; Acts 18: 8. On the prosopography of Paul’s communities see Meeks 1983: 55–63.

A Latin inscription found at Corinth honouring an aedile named Erastus may refer to Paul’s Erastus.

of his thinking. A fundamental theme that reflects this coherence is that of participatory union with Christ.¹¹

The striking parallel Paul draws between Adam and Christ in Romans and 1 Corinthians has led some New Testament scholars to speak of an Adamic christology. Adam was a type of Christ (Rom. 5: 14), Christ the second Adam (1 Cor. 15: 45), in the sense that what was wrought by each had consequences for the entire human race. Solidarity in Adam is mirrored by solidarity in Christ, death ‘in Adam’ balanced against life ‘in Christ’ (1 Cor. 15: 22, 45).

Christ inaugurated a new beginning for humankind, a new mode of human existence: ‘if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation’ (2 Cor. 5: 17).

Another typological comparison drawn by Paul, focusing this time on inclusivity in terms of the covenant rather than our common humanity, is that between Christ and Abraham. In the letter to the Galatians he offers an exegesis of the promise given in Genesis to Abraham (Gen. 12: 7). Abraham was reckoned righteous through his faith in God, thus proving that the Law was not indispensable. God then made a promise that the land would be given to his seed (sperma). Paul lays great emphasis on the singular number of sperma. That single descendant who was to be the recipient of the divine promise was Christ. Those who would benefit from the promise can now do so through Christ. For Christ is not isolated from those who believe in him.

‘In Christ’, the unique son, all believers are ‘sons of God’ by faith. They have

‘put on’ Christ through baptism. They have become ‘one in Christ Jesus’ and share through him in the promise made to Abraham (Gal. 3: 26–9).

The first to refer to the eschatological community as ‘sons of the living God’ was the eighth-century prophet, Hosea (Hos. 1: 10). The phrase expresses the intimacy with God enjoyed by members of the restored covenant relationship. Paul, although the first Jewish writer to use the term

‘adoption’ (υ2οθεσα), builds on these biblical foundations.¹² Baptism into Christ is a new Exodus leading the people of God out of slavery to demonic powers and into the freedom of the heir to the promises that were made to Abraham and David. By adoption they become fellow-sons and fellow-heirs with Christ and consequently can address God as ‘Abba, Father!’

When Paul returns to the same image in Romans 8: 12–17, he brings to it some further insights. The agent of adoption is the Spirit, who is called the spirit of adoption in contrast with the spirit of slavery, and the joy of adoption is tempered by a contrast between present suffering and eschatological fulfilment. Participation in Christ is shown to have successive

11 The theme of participatory union in Paul was first given prominence by Deissmann 1957 (=1926) and Schweitzer 1957 (=1931) and its implications have been further drawn out by Bouttier 1966 (= 1962), Sanders1977 and 1991, and Ziesler 1990. Its soteriological significance, however, has been denied or played down by Bultmann (1952), Conzelmann (1969), and Bornkamm (1971), for a critique of whose views see Sanders 1977: 453–4.

12 J. M. Scott (1992) has shown that Paul’s teaching on adoption owes nothing (apart from the word itself) to the Graeco-Roman background.

stages: liberation from demonic powers, sharing in the sufferings of Christ, and finally sharing in his glory (Scott 1992: 221–66). This is brought out a little further on where Paul says: ‘We know that the whole creation has been groaning in travail together until now; and not only the creation but we ourselves, who have the firstfruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly as we wait for adoption as sons, the redemption of our bodies’ (Rom. 8: 22–3). Believers are not only adopted sons but heirs too. The sonship that they possess is only afirstfruit of the Spirit. For they share in the vanity and corruption to which the whole of creation is subject. The full manifestation of their sonship will only take place at the resurrection, when they will be liberated from vanity and corruption. The sonship of believers is therefore both a present reality and a future hope.

The aspect of future hope is especially prominent in 1 Corinthians 15: 42–

58, where Paul sets out the destiny of the believer with poetic power and intensity. In response to the question: ‘How is the resurrection possible after the body has dissolved in the grave?’ he says that its dissolution, far from being a difficulty, is necessary before the resurrected body can be brought into being. The earthly body contributes nothing. This is underlined by the total contrast between the first Adam and the last, the former becoming ‘a living soul’ (ψυχ4ν ζσαν) ‘from the dust of the earth’, the latter ‘a life-giving spirit’ (πνεµα ζωοποιον) ‘from heaven’. If believers take their character from the last Adam, they too ‘shall bear the image of the heavenly’. The next question is: ‘What kind of body will we have?’ The answer is a body like that of Christ. ‘A body conditioned by ψυχ!, derived from Adam, will be trans-formed into a body conditioned by πνεµα, derived from Christ’ (Robertson and Plummer 1914: 374). Finally, in reply to the question: ‘What will happen to those who are still alive at the Second Coming?’ Paul asserts that the transition from psychikon to pneumatikon will be instantaneous and radical (cf.

1 Thess. 4: 13–17). Elsewhere Paul speaks of what is mortal being ‘swallowed up’ by life, suggesting vividly the irresistible power of life-in-itself (2 Cor. 5:

4). Here he uses the metaphor (derived from the baptismal rite) of putting on clothes, what is mortal ‘putting on’ immortality and incorruption in a way that implies the continuity of the human person in spite of the far-reaching effects of the change experienced.

Paul speaks with confidence about the details of the eschatological life.

Did he have access to Jewish esoteric traditions? The Gnostics certainly thought so.¹³ And Paul’s account of his ascent to the third heaven (2 Cor. 12:

2–4) lends support to their claims.¹⁴ But Paul only refers to his own

experi-13 Scott1997: 107; Pagels 1975; Stroumsa 1996: 4–5, 38, 68, 70.

14 The first to draw attention to a possible connection between Paul and the Merkabah tradition was Scholem 1960: 14–19. Modern scholarship is divided, opinion ranging from the very cautious (Schäfer 1986) to the confident assertion that Paul was a Merkabah mystic (Scott 1997: 118). For a review of the debate see Scott 1997: 106–9.

ence, in an extreme situation, to trump his opponents’ claim to be recipients of ‘visions and revelations of the Lord’ (2 Cor. 12: 1). It is not something he would have used as a normal pastoral strategy to establish his credentials as an apostle and teacher. Markus Bockmuehl is right to conclude, without denying its reality, that its place was in Paul’s private spiritual life (1990:

175–7). But even if it does not prove that Paul was ‘the revelatory mediator of a Merkabah experience’, mediating ‘the glory of God in the midst of the Corinthians’ (pace Scott 1997: 118), it does suggest that in hinting that he had glimpsed the beatitude of the saints and shared in the angelic worship of heaven, Paul was not unaware of the traditions of Qumran (cf. Fitzmyer 1999).

In the letters issued in Paul’s name by members of his circle there is a shift of emphasis. We find here the characteristically Pauline word ‘adoption’

(Eph.1: 5), the adoption of believers as sons through Jesus Christ being part of God’s plan ‘to sum up (ανακεφαλαι(σασθαι) all things in Christ’ (Eph. 1:

10). But although believers are incorporated into Christ by baptism, Christ is the head of the body rather than the body itself (Eph. 1: 22; 4: 15; 5: 23; Col.

1: 18). This grows naturally out of Paul’s hierarchal image of Christ as the head of every man just as a man is a woman’s head (1 Cor. 11: 3; cf. Eph. 5:

23), but nevertheless points to a new perspective. Christ as the head of the body clarifies the status of the believer who is ‘in Christ’ as one who is under the power and authority of Christ. But Christ does not exercise power and authority for its own sake. He gives his adopted brothers and sisters free access (παρρησα) to the Father (Eph. 3: 12). Paul had urged his spiritual children to imitate Christ through him (1 Cor. 4: 16; 11: 1; 1 Thess. 1: 6); the author of Ephesians says boldly, ‘Be imitators of God’ (5: 1). Christ takes them right to the fountainhead. Through him they are to be ‘filled with all the fullness of God’ (Eph. 3: 19). That is not to say that the imitation of God can be undertaken easily. Although the new humanity created after the like-ness of God has been put on and salvation is assured,¹⁵ there is still need for development and growth. The new humanity needs nurturing; it is to be built up through the work of the different orders of ministry until it reaches the full stature of Christ, until it grows into him who is the head of the body (Eph.4: 11–14). The final fulfilment is set in an eschatological future, which no longer seems to have the same urgency as in Paul’s undisputed letters.

The life of believers is now ‘hid with Christ in God’ (Col. 3: 3). When Christ appears, they will appear with him in glory (Col. 3: 4). This glory is represented in traditional Apocalyptic imagery. Christ has risen through the spheres (Eph. 4: 10) and is now seated at the right hand of God (Eph. 1: 20;

Col. 3: 1). Those who have been renewed in Christ will be enthroned with him, or rather, have already been enthroned with him (Eph. 2: 6).

15 The perfect tense of ‘saved’ (σεσωσµνοι) in Eph. 2: 5 is not found in the genuine letters of Paul.

Both in the genuinely Pauline letters and in those of his circle it is evident that a real change is brought about by participation in the new creation (Sanders1991: 74). This is not a purely subjective matter, to be located in the Christian’s self-understanding, as Bultmann (1952: 268–9) and Conzelmann (1969: 208–10) have maintained. Paul’s exhortations against idolatry and sexual immorality, for example, are not based simply on the fact that they are transgressions against the moral law. As transgressions they represent a par-ticipatory union which is in conflict with the union with Christ that comes through participating in his body and blood (cf. 1 Cor. 10: 1–7) (Sanders 1977: 454–6). Participatory union is real, not just a figure of speech, although the precise category of reality is difficult to determine.¹⁶ In Ziesler’s words,

‘Christ is still an individual and there is no confusion of identity between Him and those who are in Him, but because He is a power-centre He can no longer be thought of in isolation from His people’ (1990: 64). With Christ as their power-centre Christians really are transformed as they are renewed inwardly (2 Cor. 4: 16), really do advance in union with Christ from one glory to another (2 Cor. 3: 18).

This dynamic relationship with Christ is expressed in a variety of images.

‘In Christ’ all shall be made alive (1 Cor. 15: 22) and sanctified (1 Cor. 1: 2), shall become a new creation (2 Cor. 5: 17), and have eternal life (Rom. 6: 23).

Alternatively, Christ must be formed ‘in us’ (Gal. 4: 19), and it is only when Christ is within us that our spirits are alive (Rom. 8: 10). In a particularly striking image Paul sees himself as a woman in labour struggling to bring forth his spiritual children until Christ is formed in them (Gal. 4: 19; cf. 1 Cor. 4: 15; Philem. 10). Believers are sons of God by adoption (Rom. 8: 14–

15; Gal. 4: 5; cf. Eph. 1: 5). They are ‘heirs of God and fellow-heirs with Christ’ (Rom. 8: 17; Gal. 3: 29; cf. Eph. 1: 14. They ‘put on’ Christ in baptism, clothing themselves in life and incorruption (Rom. 13: 14; 1 Cor. 15: 53;

Gal.3: 27; cf. Eph. 4: 24 and Col. 3: 10). They become one body, the body of Christ, because they share in the one eucharistic bread (1 Cor. 10: 17).

As Sanders has said, ‘the very diversity of the terminology helps to show how the general conception of participation permeated his thought’ (1977:

456).

To what extent, then, can we speak of a doctrine of deification already present in Paul? Albert Schweitzer, in spite of his insistence that ‘the funda-mental conception of the Pauline mysticism is that the Elect and Christ partake of the same corporeity’ (1957: 121), was quite sure that the concep-tion of deificaconcep-tion had no place in Pauline teaching, rightly pointing out that while Paul stresses the union of the believer with Christ, he ‘never speaks of being one with God’ (1957: 3, 26). Several writers on deification have

16 D. E. H. Whiteley has suggested that the term ‘secondary literal sense’ might be used to express a union with Christ that is in between the magical and the metaphysical (1964: 132–3).

disagreed.¹⁷ But there are strong arguments on Schweitzer’s side. First, Christ is not called ‘God’ unequivocally before the second century. Until that step is taken, union with Christ is not the same as union with God. Secondly, Paul did not isolate ‘participation’ for special consideration. He did not have a fixed technical term for participatory union with Christ, the various expres-sions which he uses – ‘in Christ’, ‘with Christ’, ‘Christ in us’, ‘sons of God’

and so on – reflecting different aspects of that union or being utilized in different contexts. Thirdly, we should not forget that these expressions are metaphorical images. ‘Deification’ as a theological term only emerges when the Pauline metaphors are re-expressed in metaphysical language. Paul simply gives us a hint of what is to come in the writings of Clement, Origen, and their successors.

Imitation is less important than participatory union in Paul. In his undisputed letters it is mostly linked with obedience.¹⁸ When he says, ‘Be imitators of me as I am of Christ’ (1 Cor. 11: 1), Paul is admonishing his hearers as their ‘father’ (cf. 1 Cor. 4: 15–16), calling on them to submit to his authority. Imitation is also connected with copying an example. Believers imitate Paul and the Lord by sharing in suffering and thus becoming them-selves a model (τπον) of discipleship (1 Thess. 1: 6; 2: 14). In Ephesians, alongside the idea of following an example, there is a further, ethical emphasis. Believers are exhorted to be ‘imitators of God’ in a moral sense, to forgive one another as God in Christ forgave them (Eph. 5: 1). Ignatius of Antioch takes up the expression of Ephesians, ‘be imitators of God’ but links imitation with sacrificial discipleship more in the manner of Paul

Imitation is less important than participatory union in Paul. In his undisputed letters it is mostly linked with obedience.¹⁸ When he says, ‘Be imitators of me as I am of Christ’ (1 Cor. 11: 1), Paul is admonishing his hearers as their ‘father’ (cf. 1 Cor. 4: 15–16), calling on them to submit to his authority. Imitation is also connected with copying an example. Believers imitate Paul and the Lord by sharing in suffering and thus becoming them-selves a model (τπον) of discipleship (1 Thess. 1: 6; 2: 14). In Ephesians, alongside the idea of following an example, there is a further, ethical emphasis. Believers are exhorted to be ‘imitators of God’ in a moral sense, to forgive one another as God in Christ forgave them (Eph. 5: 1). Ignatius of Antioch takes up the expression of Ephesians, ‘be imitators of God’ but links imitation with sacrificial discipleship more in the manner of Paul