4.1 Faith Opposed to Knowledge?
Over the past decades, Paul has received a lot of attention in the works of contemporary philosophers who consider Paulâs message of faith an alternative to the objectifying tendency of Greek metaphysics and epistemology. Alain Badiou, for instance, states that âhis discourse is one of pure fidelity to the possibility opened by the event. It cannot, therefore, in any way (and this is the upshot of Paulâs anti-philosophy) fall under the remit of knowledge.â1 While this judgement can in fact be considered a compliment, coming from someone who is highly critical of traditional metaphysics, it echoes contemporary sentiments of a much more polemical nature. In the introduction to chapter 2 (§2.1), I have already discussed the modern tendency to equate belief and faith with religion and to associate belief and faith with holding uncertain cognitive points of view. This semantic development in its turn offers fuel to anti-religious polemics. To give just one example, in his âA Manual for Creating Atheistsâ, New Atheism spokesperson Peter Boghossian presents his definition of faith: it means âpretending to know things we donât knowâ.2 Whereas Badiou tries to sever the ties of faith to epistemological concerns, Boghossian denies the relevance of non-epistemological meanings to religious faith.3 Both authors, albeit with different agendas, explicitly oppose faith and knowledge.
Fortunately, in contemporary academic philosophy there is an increasing awareness that such definitions of faith are unnecessarily narrow, if not narrow-minded. âBelieving based on insufficient evidenceâ is, rather than a definition of faith, a definition of fideism. Daniel McKaughan distinguishes between different conceptions of faith and acknowledges the âreasonâ behind, or appropriateness of, trust-based or hope-based faith.4 These types of faith encompass more than purely epistemological claims and often apply to situations of recognized risk, though this does not render them unresponsive to evidence. From a perspective of âexpected utility theoryâ, however, even strictly epistemological or propositional faith can be considered rational, as Lara Bushak argues, at least when the costs associated with gathering further evidence or postponing the decision are high.5
These insights are relevant, not only for analysing present-day conceptions, but also for evaluating its ancient equivalent. For the opposition between faith and knowledge is often assumed to find its roots in classical antiquity: remarkably, both Plato and Paul are suspected as having set the stage for this dichotomy. Greek philosophical lexica distinguish between two âphilosophicalâ senses of pistis: 1) âbeliefâ, as evidenced i.a. by Platoâs divided line analogy, one of âthe mental states that are not true knowledge (epistÄmÄ), but have to do with âopinionââ, and 2) âsomething that instils beliefâ or âa means of persuasionâ, as evidenced i.a. by Aristotleâs Rhetoric.6 I will deal with this second meaning in the next chapter as part of the semantic domain of persuasion.
The Platonic antithesis between knowledge and opinion (including pistis) is also often highlighted in pistis research. Thus, Teresa Morgan writes that âPlato treats pistis as the opposite of the understanding of truth.â7 Likewise, Benjamin Schliesser summarizes the meaning of pistis in Platoâs epistemology as âa form of inferior knowledge tied and limited to the sensual worldâ.8 And in a comparison between Paulâs and Plutarchâs usage of pistis, Jeanette Hagen Pifer writes that âby the fourth century bc, Plato writes of the inferiority and instability of pistis. (â¦) Evidence of this understanding of belief as an inferior mental state persists through the third century ad.â9
This often-emphasized inferior epistemic position of pistis in Platoâs works and in the works of those who appropriated and developed Platoâs legacy seems to have contributed to the impression that the early Christian pre-occupation with faith must have come across as fideistic to a pagan audience.10 When Christ-followers began to promote their movement in terms of this pistis, so it is imagined, it must have been received as a desperate attempt to proclaim truth where there was no reason, evidence, or proof to sustain their claims. The opposition of Christian pistis to knowledge is even traced back to Paul by the LiddellâScottâJones dictionary of ancient Greek. Here, it is deemed necessary to list a specifically âtheologicalâ usage of the word: âTheological faith, belief, as opposed to sight and knowledge (1 Cor 13.13 etc.).â11 At the end of this chapter, I will return to the question whether and, if so, in what sense pistis is used by Paul as an opposite to either sight (see §4.4.3) or knowledge (see §4.4.4).
Those who wish to avoid such a fideistic understanding of early-Christian pistis, tend to avoid a Greek, epistemological contextualization. James Kinneavy, for example, who argues in favour of Greek roots to pistis (see esp. §5.2.4), sharply distinguishes between an epistemological usage (âthe mental convictionâ, âpersuasion as a productâ) and a rhetorical usage (âthe technique that evokes such a convictionâ; âpersuasion as a processâ) and bases his ânew hypothesisâ for understanding early Christian faith on the latter.12 In the first category, Kinneavy argues that Homer, the early poets, the sophists, Parmenides, Plato, Aristotle, and the Gnostics ensured that pistis was âa despised level of thoughtâ and from there to âthe central concept of a religious systemâ was understandably âtoo much for investigating theologiansâ.13 Kinneavy is probably right that pistisâs epistemological reputation may indeed have led many theologians to deny Greek roots to Christian faith. New Testament scholars are indeed sceptical when it comes to ascribing more âcognitiveâ aspects of pistis to Paul:
We should therefore be very cautious about adding the word âconviction[s]â to the vocabulary of our discussions of Paulâs theology. Where it may be able to serve a heuristic purpose, fine, but it is doubtful whether it corresponds to any important constituent of the apostleâs own thought beyond what is contained in the terms âfaithâ and âbelievingâ. (Furnish 1997, 167)
As my chapter title indicates, I would choose not to be so âcautiousâ: âconvictionâ perfectly captures the more cognitive semantic colouring of Paulâs pistis language.
Others have suggested that early Christian pistis was in need of being bolstered by second-century apologists against its low-level status in the Platonic frame.14 This may be true for some polemical treatises of the period, yet in the wider Platonic traditionâas my survey in §4.3 demonstratesâpistis was a highly versatile epistemological category and did not live up to such a bad reputation. Moreover, as we will further explore in chapter 5, Stoicism and Epicureanism complicate the suggestion of pistis being considered a low-level knowledge category even further, since these traditions use the same term for a stable, high-level mental disposition.15 I would therefore argue that Paul did not share these apologistsâ concerns and could therefore freely join the epistemological semantic domain of pistis.
In this chapter, then, I aim to trace and dismantle three phases of the argument that ascribes low epistemological status to pistis. I will demonstrate that as regards (1) the Platonic tradition, (2) Paul, and (3) the early Christian movement, the assumed strict antithesis between faith and knowledge is built on dubious grounds. In the next section (§4.2), the evidence in pagan sources for the early Christian reputation of ill-founded faith, a reputation often upheld in scholarly literature, is reviewed. Thereafter (§4.3), authors that are connected to the Platonic tradition are questioned for their epistemological usage of pistis. I will show that precisely because of its intermediate or ambivalent epistemological status, pistis can function as a bridge from the human to the divine level. Finally, as in all chapters, we will turn to Paulâs letters, to look for epistemological usage of pistis language (§4.4).
One may perhaps wonder what good it will do to deconstruct the faith-reason divide in Platonic thought if the goal is to shed light on the semantics of pistis in Paul. Indeed, one might be inclined to think, as Edwin Judge did, that faith âprimarily interests him [Paul] as the means of justification as opposed to works, not as opposed to knowledgeâ.16 While the faith-works dichotomy is certainly a primary construct in Paulâs thought, it would nevertheless be unnecessary to deduce that the cognitive dimension of faith is never foregrounded in Paulâs letters. It will be shown that in diverse passages across Paulâs letters, it is used very much like pistis in the Platonic tradition, denoting a firm yet human conviction that serves as a bridge to full, divine knowledge. The epistemological semantic domain of pistis, I argue, is important for understanding Paulâs pistis language especially when he speaks of weakening, stability, and growth of pistis (see §4.4.1); of his own reliability and Godâs in terms of pistis (see §4.4.2); and of pistis as a provisional, earthly cognitive category as differentiated from the eternal, direct, and reciprocal knowledge of God (see §4.4.3 and §4.4.4).
4.2 The Stigma of Early Christian Pistis Being a Low-Level Epistemological Category
How do we âmodernsâ evaluate the epistemological reputation of pistis among the âancientsâ? The epistemological merit of ancient, especially early Christian, pistis is, to say the least, rather low high in many scholarly evaluations. More than half a century ago, Eric Dodds formulated it thus:
Had any cultivated pagan of the second century been asked to put in a few words the difference between his own view of life and the Christian one, he might reply that it was the difference between logismos and pistis, between reasoned conviction and blind faith. To any one brought up in classical Greek philosophy, pistis meant the lowest grade of cognition: it was the state of mind of the uneducated, who believed things on hearsay without being able to give reasons for their belief. (Dodds 1965, 120â121)17
This estimation of ancient pistis being known as âthe lowest grade of cognitionâ seems to have been quite influential, as it is echoed in works such as Pagans and Christians by the widely read ancient historian Robin Lane Fox.18 It was also quoted with approval by classical archaeologist Helene Whittaker, who dubs it âintellectual lazinessâ.19 Even more recently it was elaborated on in Athen und Jeruzalem by the historian of philosophy Winfried Schröder, who argues that the Enlightenment critiques of Christianity, including their accusation of fideism, find their classical forerunners in pagan philosophers.20Pistis, he argues, essentially meant assent to dogma, to pagan and Christian authors alike:
And yet the pagans are rightâand are in agreement with Christian authors of their timeâwhen they consider Christian pistis an essential element: the assent (ÏÏ Î³ÎºÎ±ÏάθεÏιÏ) to statements, i.e. to âdoctrines (δÏγμαÏα)â such as that of the sonship of God Jesus or the resurrection of the body. (Schröder 2011, 89)21
By comparing ancient pagan criticisms of pistis to the modernist objections to faith, he concludes that Enlightenment thinkers were in the right and did not lapse into anachronisms (as apologists would suggest) by deeming this fideism essential to Christianity.22
The question remains, however, on what sources these and similar evaluations are based. How do these authors arrive at their interpretation of Christian pistis as merely accepting something as true, without giving any reasonable account? There are a handful of ancient sources that indeed point in this direction. Schröder predominantly refers to the Contra Celsum or Against Celsus, a work written in the mid-third century by Origen to disprove the charges put forth by the Platonist Celsus around 177 ad.23 Other witnesses include more fragmentary accounts or remarks âin passingâ in the second-century writings of the physician-philosopher Galen and the satirist Lucian.24 It is worth taking a closer look at these sources to see whether they commit us to a similar conclusion. I leave aside the anti-Christian polemic of Neoplatonist Porphyry for now, since he writes roughly a century later than the others (but see §4.4.4 below for some reflections on his usage of pistis).25
4.2.1 Galen: Uncritical and Firm Pistis
Amidst the extensive medical and philosophical legacy of Galen, four references to Christians are extant. In one passage, he speaks of logical demonstration versus empirical teaching, and compares the latter to âundemonstrated lawsâ (νόμÏν á¼Î½Î±ÏοδείκÏÏν) you hear when you arrive at the âschool of Moses and Christâ (ÎÏÏ Ïοῦ καὶ ΧÏιÏÏοῦ διαÏÏιβὴν).26 Elsewhere, in a commentary on Aristotleâs first unmoved mover that has only survived fragmentarily in Arabic, we read: âIf I had in mind people who taught their pupils in the same way as the followers of Moses and Christ teach theirsâfor they order them to accept everything on faithâI should not have given you a definition.â27 It is important to note how Galen unproblematically describes Jews and Christians as schools with students.28 In fact, in the two other extant passages on Christians he compares them favourably to philosophers on account of their open-mindedness, self-discipline, and pursuit of justice.29 Still, according to Galen, Jews and Christians are prototypical for an uncritical manner of teaching which he sharply opposes, and he connects this attitude to what probably was the Greek word pistis.30
If we look beyond these specific passages on Christians to the manner in which Galen uses and understands forms of pistis, we find that it is not necessarily characterized by a lack of demonstration. In one of his many medical treatises he suggests that certain feverish patients need to be nourished at the occurrence of a paroxysm, after which he defends his position thus:
Perhaps, then, this too is not believed by the majority of doctors (Ïοá¿Ï Ïολλοá¿Ï Ïῶν ἰαÏÏῶν á¼ÏιÏÏον). But it is necessary to provide belief either by reason itself or by actions (εἴÏε Ïá¿· λόγῳ ÏÏá½´ ÏαÏá½³Ïειν αá½Ïá¿· Ïὴν Ïá½·ÏÏιν εἴÏε Ïοá¿Ï á¼ÏγοιÏ). (Galen, Method of Medicine 10.4 (Kühn 2011 [1821], 10.679))
Consequently, according to Galen, pistis in itself need not be an uncertain disposition; it can be based on reason or actions. In this manner, it can even function as the type of knowledge in possession of intellectuals, as is shown by Galenâs appeal to the âfirm convictionâ (ÏίÏÏÎ¹Ï Î²ÎµÎ²Î±Î¯Î±) of all logicians, in order to show how unjustified the Stoic Chrysippus was for failing to engage with Platoâs teaching on the soul:
Now all the geometricians, arithmeticians, mathematicians, astronomers, master-builders, and even musicians, sundial engineers, rhetoricians, grammarians, and, in short, all who had been trained in a rational art (ὠλÏÏ Îµá¼´ ÏÎ¹Ï á¼Î½ ÏÎÏνῠλογικῠγεγÏμναÏÏο), held the firm conviction (ÏίÏÏιν βεβαίαν á¼ÏÏον) that the arguments written by others about the gouverning part of the soul had been refuted, and that those of Hippocrates and Plato were true. (Galen, De placitis Hippocratis et Platonis 8.1.13)31
In Galen, pistis comes in many varieties, so it seems.32 Christians are caricatured for their lack of demonstration when it comes to believing. Yet philosophers are presented as having pistis as well as common people. We do not find evidence that there was such an evident dichotomy between reason or knowledge and faith as such, a dichotomy increasingly common in modern times.
4.2.2 Lucian: Gullibility versus Pistis
In the many works of the second-century satirist Lucian of Samosata, there is one episode in which Christians play a major part and the noun pistis is used. The protagonist of the book, Peregrinus, a Cynic philosopher and charlatan, tricks the Christians into believing he is one of them and quickly rises to become a leader in their community. This led to his imprisonment, whereupon Christians spared no expense to come to his rescue. In this context, Lucian describes the Christian movement as a highly gullible band of brothers, whoâsurprisinglyâlack pistis (here used to mean âevidenceâ) for their convictions:
The poor wretches have convinced themselves, first and foremost, that they are going to be immortal and live for all time, in consequence of which they despise death and even willingly give themselves into custody, most of them. Furthermore, their first lawgiver persuaded them that they are all brothers of one another after they have transgressed once for all by denying the Greek gods and by worshipping that crucified sophist himself (Ïὸν δὲ á¼Î½ÎµÏκολοÏιÏμένον á¼ÎºÎµá¿Î½Î¿Î½ ÏοÏιÏÏὴν αá½Ïὸν) and living under his laws. Therefore they despise all things indiscriminately and consider them common property, receiving such doctrines traditionally without any definite evidence (á¼Î½ÎµÏ ÏÎ¹Î½á½¸Ï á¼ÎºÏÎ¹Î²Î¿á¿¦Ï Ïá½·ÏÏεÏÏ Ïá½° ÏοιαῦÏα ÏαÏαδεξάμενοι). So if any charlatan and trickster, able to profit by occasions, comes among them, he quickly acquires sudden wealth by imposing upon simple folk. (Lucian, The Passing of Peregrinus 13)
Ironically, even as Lucianâs general portrait of Christians is one in which their gullibility is paramount, he accuses them of a lack of pistis for their opinions. It might be a conscious word play based on general knowledge of the importance of pistis for the Christians, but given that the reified use of the word as âground for trustâ or âevidenceâ is very common as well, one would expect clearer indications of jest here. Thus, whereas the reputation of Christians as easily persuaded is again confirmedâthough before wholly accepting its accuracy we should probably take the satirical genre into accountâpistis is not a sign of the Christiansâ credulity, but rather is used as an equivalent of rational verification.
There is one other instance in which both Christians and pistis language recurs: a treatise in which another travelling charlatan and miracle worker by the name of Alexander institutes a three-day mystery festival:
On the first day, as at Athens, there was a proclamation, worded as follows: âIf any atheist or Christian or Epicurean has come to spy upon the rites, let him be off, and let those who believe in the god perform the mysteries (οἱ δὲ ÏιÏÏεÏονÏÎµÏ Ïá¿· θεῷ ÏελείÏθÏÏαν), under the blessing of Heaven.â Then, at the very outset, there was an âexpulsion,â in which he took the lead, saying: âOut with the Christians (á¼Î¾Ï ΧÏιÏÏιανοÏÏ),â and the whole multitude chanted in response, âOut with the Epicureans!â Then there was the child-bed of Leto, the birth of Apollo, his marriage to Coronis, and the birth of Asclepius. (Lucian, Alexander the False Prophet 38)
This passage is remarkable for its usage of the participle pisteuontes to designate adherents to a specific God vis-aÌ-vis outsiders (on which, see §8.3.1 below) and for its association of Christians with atheists and Epicureans (on which, see §8.2.1 and §8.4.5 below). I will elaborate on both of these themes later, but for now it suffices to point out that apparently Lucian did not deem Christians âgullibleâ enough to stay and become one of Alexandersâ followers. Perhaps they are not welcome at the ceremonies, precisely because their criticism could dissuade Alexanderâs gullible followers to believe him.33
If we step back and look at Lucianâs general usage of pistis and cognates, it becomes clear that as an author he is constantly playing with credibility and credulity on several levels: charactersâ stories are doubted or believed by other characters, and the author, the narrator, is frequently (and purposefully) unreliable. Teresa Morgan recorded many examples of Lucianâs playful technique.34 Particularly in his Lover of Lies, she notes, Lucianâs usage of pistis is remarkably propositional: the storyâs sceptical protagonist Tychiades and his friends are continuously spoken of in terms of their (un)belief in their stories that draw on such authorities as eyewitnesses, wise men, and the coherence of their world view.35 Even though this demonstrates that belief as such may be ill-founded (or not), in Lucian, we find no evidence that pistis language is used outright to denote a weak cognitive power we ought to avoid.
4.2.3 Origen against Celsus: Faith with and without Substantiation
The second century Platonist Celsus is our third pagan source for the allegedly low epistemological status of early Christian pistis. For Celsusâs thought, we have only one extant text to refer to, one that has been handed down to us only in the paraphrases and quotes preserved in a reply written some seventy years later by a Christian intellectual named Origen. Even though Celsus grants the notion of pistis a pretty important place in public worship, he is less enthusiastic about the Christian obsession with the term.36
Early in the first book of Origenâs Against Celsus, the book that lays out the agenda for the rest of the work, we encounter Celsusâs accusation that the Christian faith is âwithout substantiationâ (á¼Î»Î¿Î³Î¿Ï). This general impression of the Christian teachings seems to be based on exclamations of believers:
And he asserts that certain persons who do not wish either to give or receive a reason for their belief, keep repeating, âDo not examine, but believe!â and, âYour faith will save you!â And he alleges that such also say, âThe wisdom of this life is bad, but that foolishness is a good thing!â (Origen, Against Celsus 1.9)37
According to Celsus, these simple adages are not only endorsed by âcertain personsâ. The latter quote seems to be inspired by Paul (cf. §5.4.2 on 1 Cor 2.5) and Celsus goes on to explain that this is the impression given by Christian preachers, whom he compares to priests of Cybele, soothsayers, Mithras-adherents, and Sabbadians. These preachers, Celsus maintains, deliberately taking âadvantage of the ignorance of those who are easily deceived, lead them away whither they will.â38 It is thus a Christian strategy to mislead the simpleminded by means of pistis. According to Origen, âhe asserts that Christians repel every wise man from the doctrine of their faith, and invite only the ignorant and the vulgar.â39
Origenâs response to these charges is somewhat surprising, for he does not deny them outright. Instead, he distinguishes between different types of adherents to the Christian teaching.40 It would be great, he says, if all people would practise philosophy (ÏÏολάζειν Ïá¿· ÏιλοÏοÏεá¿Î½), but for a variety of reasons only a few have the opportunity and determination to devote themselves to reason (á¼Ïὶ Ïὸν λόγον á¾ÏÏόνÏÏν).41 Hence, Origenâs view of the Christian community is that of a mass practising a conviction without substantiation (Ïá½·ÏÏÎ¹Ï á¼Î»Î¿Î³Î¿Ï) and a philosophical elite addressing issues of deeper wisdom. In effect, he also creates different types of pistis, modifying the strict distinction between true knowledge and mere belief, which was part of Platoâs legacy (though cf. for a more nuanced interpretation of Platoâs pistis §4.3.2 below).42
In response to Celsusâs accusation that Christian teachers in fact reject such deeper wisdom, Origen distinguishes between true wisdom and sophistry:
For true wisdom does not mislead, but ignorance does, while of existing things knowledge alone is permanent (μόνον Ïῶν á½Î½ÏÏν βέβαιον á¼ÏιÏÏήμη), and the truth which is derived from wisdom (á¼Î»á½µÎ¸ÎµÎ¹Î± á¼ ÏÎµÏ á¼Îº ÏοÏá½·Î±Ï ÏαÏαγίνεÏαι). But if, contrary to the definition of wisdom (ÏαÏá½° Ïὸν Ïá¿Ï ÏοÏá½·Î±Ï á½ Ïον), you call any one whatever who dogmatizes with sophistical opinions wise (Ïὸν á½ Ïι ÏοÏâ οá½Î½ δογμαÏίζονÏα μεÏá½± ÏινÏν ÏοÏιÏμάÏÏν λέγá¿Ï ÏοÏόν), we answer that in conformity with what you call wisdom, such an one rejects the words of God, being misled and ensnared by plausible sophisms (ÏÎ»Î±Î½á½½Î¼ÎµÎ½Î¿Ï á½Ïὸ Ïῶν ÏιθανοÏá½µÏÏν καὶ ÏοÏιÏμάÏÏν καὶ ÏαÏαÏÎ¿Î´Î¹Î¶á½¹Î¼ÎµÎ½Î¿Ï á½Ïâ αá½Ïῶν). (Origen, Against Celsus 3.72)
According to Origen, true wisdom should aspire to true knowledge (á¼ÏιÏÏήμη) which is firm (βέβαιοÏ), whereas ignorance is characterized by holding false opinions (ÏÎµÏ Î´Î¿Î´Î¿Î¾Î¿á¿¦Î½ÏεÏ).43 The âwisdomâ Christian teachers despise according to Celsus is labelled âsophistryâ by Origen (on this accusation, cf. §5.3.2 below). Apart from this language game, however, at a deeper level the discussion concerns what philosophical system offers the ultimate path to true knowledge. Celsus rejects the Christian claim to offer a bypass (ârevelationâ or âgraceâ leading to âfaithâ) to Platonic dialectic for entering the metaphysical sphere, a claim that would subordinate Platonism as the lesser system.44
Now, of course, the question is what we are supposed to infer from this critique of early Christian pistis. At the very least, and before drawing any conclusions, we need to account for genre and discourse. As an apology, Against Celsus reports on a dispute between two antithetical positions. The ease by which the tables are turned and labels are reversed in this intellectual showdown demonstrates the flexibility of terms such as âwisdomâ, âknowledgeâ, and âfaithâ in a polemical setting. Whereas Origen has the advantage of presenting his adversaryâs arguments in a way that suits his purposeâCelsusâs original treatise âOn True Doctrineâ is lost to usâboth avail themselves of various techniques to discredit the opponentâs point of view. Thus, taking Celsusâs account at face value is as unwarranted as âblindly believingâ Origenâs version.45 Of course, Origen admits that the Christian masses may believe without a reasoned account or substantiation (á¼Î»Î¿Î³Î¿Ï). However, Schröder considers this admission to plainly affirm pagan criticism and thereby overlooks Origenâs more nuanced distinction between advanced and less-advanced faith.46 Viewed sociologically, Origenâs confirmation of the massesâ unreasoned faith could point to the fact that the Christian movement had adherents from across social strata, including uneducated laymen, probably more so than Celsusâs Platonist school.47
As we will see through this study (particularly in §5.3 and §8.3), the passages quoted perfectly fit the profile of polemical epistemological discourse between diverse philosophical schools of antiquity. Inter alia, we will see how Epictetus accused the Academics of calling for a similar unsubstantiated faith in their preaching. As Benitez and Tarrant have argued, âphilosophical attacks on religious movements, particularly Christians and Gnostics, arose out of competition for the same spiritual ground.â48 The correct conclusion to be drawn from these sources does not include a ratification of one of the participants in this discourse. Instead, we can infer that the exact relation between knowledge and pistis and, by extension, the right philosophy-religion was the object of a continuous debate throughout the Hellenistic-imperial age and not the prerogative of anti-Christian polemic.
4.3 A Fideistic Turn in Platoâs Wake? Epistemological Usage of Pistis in Graeco-Roman Discourses
In order to evaluate pistis as an epistemological category, it is worth delving deeper into the present-day interpretation and Graeco-Roman reception of the usual suspect, Plato, and his successors.49 Naturally, Platonism was not the only philosophical tradition that influenced the intellectual and broader culture in the days of Paul, and the different schools ought to be considered in continuous dialogue and interaction. Yet by focusing on the Platonic-Academic tradition in this chapter, we will see how pistis functions in an epistemological frame, which opens up a fruitful way of approaching pistis as an epistemological category in Paul. Several of the other traditions (namely the Peripatetics, the Epicureans, and the Stoics) are central to the next chapter, where the related yet broader semantic domain of pistis and persuasion will be discussed.
Before we launch into a discussion of the use of pistis as an epistemological category by Platonic philosophers, it is good to take a broader look at the usefulness of this exercise for understanding Pauline pistis. For particularly when it comes to epistemology, the relevance of Greek philosophical categories for understanding an âapocalyptic Jewâ is often questioned.
Henrik Tronier compared Jewish apocalypticism to philosophical idealism and observed a surprisingly similar structure.50 Whereas the first of these two is usually considered eschatological in nature, pertaining to two levels in the sphere of time, the second is often thought to be characterized by a cosmological dualism of two levels in space. However, the epistemology of, for instance, Philo, a Jew whose thought is deeply indebted to Hellenistic philosophy, and the epistemology underlying the apocalyptic visions and dreams in 1 Enoch are not so dissimilar, as both are based on the interconnectedness of the sensible and the real, the present disorderly condition and the heavenly order. From the perspective of the history of ideas, then, the rise of Jewish apocalypticism could only take place after the rise of philosophical idealism with its particular conception of transcendence. In this manner, Tronier successfully overcomes a particular aspect of the Judaism/Hellenism divide that is of particular interest to the topic of this chapter, where I contextualize pistis within the worldview of both Greeks and Jews in the days of the early Roman Empire.
Inspired by Tronierâs argument, Anders Klostergaard Petersen also places Paulâs use of the pistis lexeme in this epistemological field, shaped by Platonic ontology.51 He explains the connection between idealism and apocalypticism as two phenomena related to the larger evolutionary development of axial forms of religion. While the benefits of this approach are unmistakable on a structural hermeneutical level, due to this wide-ranging view of human history and thought, Klostergaard Petersen does not delve too deeply into specific Platonic or Pauline authors and their usage of pistis. He does, however, briefly point to a particular Pauline text that I will discuss in detail below (§4.4.3), âfor we walk by faith not by sightâ (2 Cor 5.7). Regarding this text, he remarks:
The statement has an unmistakably Platonic ring to it. As long as one is in this world, true relationship to the heavenly realm is only accessible by means of a particular cognitive activity, that is, pistis. At this point, some may reasonably object why I have recourse to Plato rather than a later strand of philosophy or philosopher contemporaneous with Paul. The criticism is legitimate, but the idea is that the basic epistemology underlying Paulâs thinking is ultimately one that may be seen blatantly clearly in the context of Platonic philosophy as an epitome of axial age religion. (Klostergaard Petersen 2017a, 242)
This wider perspective thus allows us to see Paul in line with Platoâs epistemology. To satisfy the âcriticsâ, however, I will trace the development of Platonic epistemology via different authors of this tradition down to the age of Paul. In this way, Klostergaard Petersenâs more abstract connection (on the level of religious evolution) is confirmed by offering a more specific connection on the level of shared discourse, a discourse extending from Plato and his predecessors to the time of Paul and beyond. By searching the corpora of authors from the Platonic tradition for the co-occurrence of pistis vocabulary and epistemological terms, I have collected a varied selection of passages that concern the substantiation and stratification of knowledge.52 In each of these authors, Platonic pistis is shown to be a particularly human category of knowledge, yet at the same time it is univocally tied to the real, the ultimate, and the transcendent.
4.3.1 Parmenides and Heraclitus: True Pistis as Inquisitive Human Appropriation of Divine Truth
While Plato is most famous for his ordered scheme of different levels of cognition in the divided line analogy, he built on a longer tradition that was handed down mostly in poetry. I discuss two such predecessors, Parmenides and Heraclitus, whose extant writings both contain pistis language used in an epistemological context, as well as a fragment of what is known as the Derveni papyrus by an unnamed author who seems to have developed Heraclitan themes.
Already in the sixth century bc, in Parmenidesâs famous poem âOn Natureâ on the âtwo waysâ, preserved in considerable part in many ancient sources, we find a strong duality between truth (alÄtheia) and opinions (doxa), corresponding to gods and mortals respectively.53 Surprisingly, pistis belongs to the side of truth, as we learn from the final word of the goddess to the narrator in the introduction:
Τhou shouldst learn all things, as well the unshaken heart of persuasive truth (ἠμὲν á¼Î»Î·Î¸Îµá½·Î·Ï εá½ÏÎµÎ¹Î¸á½³Î¿Ï á¼ÏÏÎµÎºá½²Ï á¼¦ÏοÏ), as the opinions of mortals in which is no true belief at all (ἠδὲ βÏοÏῶν Î´á½¹Î¾Î±Ï Ïαá¿Ï οá½Îº á¼Î½Î¹ Ïá½·ÏÏÎ¹Ï á¼Î»Î·Î¸á½µÏ). (Parmenides, On Nature B 1.29â30)54
The combination of a cognate of pistis and a cognate of âtruthâ (á¼Î»Î®Î¸ÎµÎ¹Î±) occurs two more times in the poem.55 Based on the quote above, Aryeh Finkelberg reasons that âwe need not conjecture about the relation of pistis to âpersuasionâ: the opposition eupeithÄs alÄtheia: the lack of pistis alÄthÄs (Ïá½·ÏÏÎ¹Ï á¼Î»Î·Î¸á½µÏ) at B 1.29â30 makes it certain that in Parmenides these terms are used as synonyms.â56 This may be an overstatement, as âthe unshaken heart of persuasive truthâ may not be exactly the same as âpersuasionâ. As Milena Bontempi has pointed out, pistis belongs to the Logos, to being, and to thought, and it enables a reciprocal relationship while persuasion merely leads to âmultiplicity and becomingâ.57 Regardless of the precise reading, however, it is evident that pistis belongs to the divine side of the divide.
Parmenides was not quite the first to make a strong distinction between divine and human types of cognition or language; he followed in Homerâs, Hesiodâs, Theognisâs, Semonidesâs, and Solonâs footsteps.58 He was the first, however, to suggest that between human ignorance and divine revelation a human type of understanding is required, a judging mind that functions as more than the passive receiver of divine truth. As Tobias Torgerson has noted, Parmenides âradically alters the traditional understanding of revelation by subordinating it to human verificationâ.59 It is the figure of the goddess, a representative of traditional poetic revelation, who in fact âlend[s] credence to the new philosophical pistis alÄthÄs᾿.60 For our understanding of Pauline thought, both the importance of an active, functioning human mind to receive divine knowledge and the appearance of pistis in this same context stand out: pistis is used in opposition to mere mortal opinion as the human equivalent of divine truth.
Among the preserved fragments of Heraclitus, another presocratic philosopher and a contemporary of Parmenides, we find another example of pistis language within an epistemological and also religious context. This fragment is preserved as a citation by Plutarch (the context of which will be discussed in §4.3.5 below):
But most divine things (Ïῶν μὲν θείÏν Ïá½° Ïολλά), according to Heraclitus, escape being known due to disbelief (á¼ÏιÏÏίηι διαÏÏ Î³Î³Î¬Î½ÎµÎ¹ μὴ γιγνÏÏκεÏθαι). (Heraclitus, Fragment 86, apud Plutarch, Marcius Coriolanus 38.4, my translation)
In this dictum, disbelief or distrust (á¼ÏιÏÏίηι, in Ionic dialect) is an obstacle to attaining knowledge of things pertaining to the gods. Again, just as in Parmenidesâs poem, pistis is not seen as standing in opposition to higher forms of knowledge. Rather, it is the prerequisite to knowing things divine: these things must be trusted before they can be truly understood.
Even though the context of this citation is lost, it is interesting to note that in a heavily damaged papyrus scroll only discovered in 1962 on the Greek mainland, whose author seems to be indebted to Heraclitus, the condition of apistia is again lamented. This Derveni papyrus is the oldest literary papyrus fragment we now have, dated to the fourth century bc, yet containing a text (of which only a third survived) probably originating in the late fifth century bc. According to GaÌbor Betegh, who worked extensively on the text and its interpretation, the main purpose of the author was to offer an allegorized and philosophically acceptable interpretation of an Orphic cosmogony (dating back to the sixth century bc).61 In column 4, he quotes from Heraclitus, combining two lines that were previously thought to be separate fragments.62 Here is what is left of the next column in his reconstruction:
terrors (â¦) consult an oracle (â¦) they consult an oracle (â¦) for them we go into the oracular shrine to inquire for oracular answers, whether it is right (â¦) the terrors of Hades, why do they disbelieve (á¼Î½ á¼Î¹Î´Î¿Ï δεινὰ Ïί á¼ÏιÏÏοῦÏι)? Not understanding dreams, nor any of the facts, on the basis of what kind of warning would they believe (διὰ ÏοίÏν á¼Î½ ÏαÏαδειγμάÏÏν Ï[ι]ÏÏεÏοιεν)? Overcome by fault and by pleasure as well (á½Ïὸ Ï[á¿Ï Ïε] á¼Î¼Î±Ï<ί>Î·Ï ÎºÎ±á½¶ [Ï]Î·Ï á¼Î»Î»Î·Ï ἡδον[á¿]Ï), they neither learn, nor believe ([οá½] μανθ[άνο]Ï Ïιν [οá½Î´á½²] ÏιÏÏεÏÎ¿Ï Ïι). Disbelief (á¼Ï[ι]ÏÏίη) and lack of understanding [? are the same thing]. For if they neither understand, nor do they learn (μá¿[δ]á½² γινÏ[Ï]κÏÏ[ιν]), [it is not possible that they believe] ([οá½Îº á¼ÏÏιν á½ÏÏÏ ÏιÏÏεÏÏÎ¿Ï ]Ïιν) even when they see (â¦) disbelief ([Ï]ὴν á¼ÏιÏÏί[ην]) (â¦) appears. (Derveni papyrus, column 5.1â14)63
The many gaps leave a lot of room for interpretation. What is clear from this fragment is that apistia (or apistiÄ in Ionic dialect) is equated to a lack of a higher, true understanding, and this absence of faith and knowledge is linked to improper conduct (pleasure and sin). Beteghâs own comments on this passage are important enough to include here:
The author explicitly claims in the last preserved lines of column 5 that lack of faith and lack of knowledge are two sides of the same coin. As one gains knowledge about the divine, that is as one understands the way the divinity governs the world, and hence takes up the correct cognitive attitude towards it, one naturally, by the very same gesture, assumes faith in it as well. (Betegh 2004, 90)
Indeed, instead of a dichotomy between knowledge and faith, both are part of this higher grasp of reality.
That the author is âapplying, with slight variation, a sentence of Herclitus (B86)â, that is, the sentence just cited here, is the argument of another Derveni specialist, Walter Burkert.64 He connects this usage of apistia to its occurrence in Platoâs allegorical interpretation of an Orphic myth in the Gorgias (493aâd). In this myth, the souls in the underworld pour water with leaky sieves into leaky vessels and these sieves, according to Platoâs Socrates, represents pleasure-driven people who cannot retain knowledge due to apistia and forgetfulness (493c: δι᾿ á¼ÏιÏÏίαν Ïε καὶ λήθην). Both authors thus seem to share this sense of apistia, a lack of epistemological trust, proof, or conviction, versus deeper understanding and knowledge. Or to put it more precisely, both partake in a similar, Orphic-Heraclitan epistemological-religious discourse. The Platonic material as a whole, though, as we shall see in the next subsection, is more complex.
If apistia is so unpreferable according to this Derveni author, it is interesting to see in what people are supposed to âtrustâ. As Burkert suggests, the author could well be ridiculing the use of oracles, where people go asking about the âterrors of Hadesâ while they âare disregarding the real sources of âbeliefââ: dreams and âsingle factsâ (paradeigmata).65 Betegh compares the views of the author here to the tenth book of Platoâs Laws, yet at the same time he describes the epistemology of the author as closer to Heraclitus than Plato, in that âthe personal understanding on the part of the initiand is indeed crucial for the success of the ritual.â66 The Derveni author shares the near-ubiquitous claim in the philosophy of the period that most people lack the specific knowledge initiates do possess, yet follows Heraclitus in claiming that the data (paradeigmata, and cf. column 13, line 5: pragmata) are there, and knowledge may in principle be attained, even as most people miserably fail at seeing beyond what is sensible. Only the happy few manage to attain knowledge, understanding, and pistis.
In all three of these early authors, then, we have seen how pistis language is used to express something close to true knowledge of things divine. For the Presocratics, pistis is a cognitive-religious mode held in high regard.
4.3.2 Plato: Pistis as an Intermediate, Yet Highest Worldly Type of Cognition
It is, however, not Parmenidesâs or Heraclitusâs epistemologies, but the far more influential usage of pistis by Plato that has caused its âimage problemâ as not much beyond âopinionâ. In his scepticism towards sense perception, Plato seems to have been highly indebted to Parmenides.67 Yet Plato also, the general assumption goes, relegated pistis to the ever-changing world of the senses, a world cut off ontologically and epistemologically from the immutable world of the forms.68 Here the question into the epistemological status of pistis touches upon the so-called âtwo worlds-theoryâ: a schematic depiction of Platoâs epistemological views that is subject to extensive scholarly debate. According to this theory, different forms of cognition (knowledge, opinion) are set over different objects (intelligibles, sensibles), which leads to a strong separation between the two realms and types of cognition. The main questionâwas Plato committed to a two-worlds-theory, was he committed in all respects (ontologically and epistemologically) and to the same extent in all his dialogues?âcannot be pursued at length here.69 I will confine myself to discussing a few passages from different dialogues that have a particular bearing on how Platonic pistis, used as a technical epistemic term, can be understood, and to exploring possible directions in which the interpretations of these passages might lead.
For our purposes here, then, we need not be concerned with offering a comprehensive judgement on the status of pistis in Platoâs epistemology (if such a unified system even exists). Such an endeavour would necessarily include a more thorough account of the purpose and place of each passage within the dialogue and of the dialogue in the Platonic corpus as a whole. In fact, there exists one monograph, in which this has been attempted: Angelica Tagliaâs Il concetto di pistis in Platone.70 She aims to demonstrate that, when it comes to the evaluation of pistis, a development can be traced across the dialogues with an increasingly positive role for pistis. Where relevant, I will refer to her argument. My own aim, however, is to demonstrate that there is a broad range of meanings, interpretations, and questions to which Platoâs writings give rise, including meanings of high cognitive value that could fall in the category of âfirm cognitionâ. This broad range is subsequently drawn upon in Hellenistic and Roman philosophy, which will be considered in the sections hereafter (§4.3.2â§4.3.5).
The most iconic passage when it comes to epistemic categories in Plato is the analogy of the divided line in book VI of the Republic (509dâ511e), immediately before the even more famous allegory of the cave.71 The character Socrates uses this analogy to explain two different âtypes and placesâ: the intelligible and the visible (509d: Ïὸ μὲν νοηÏοῦ Î³á½³Î½Î¿Ï Ï Ïε καὶ Ïá½¹ÏÎ¿Ï , Ïὸ δâ αὠá½ÏαÏοῦ). The intelligible corresponds to the first two parts of a line, namely (a) understanding/knowledge (νÏηÏιÏ)72 and (b) thought (διάνοια); the visible or sensible corresponds to third and fourth part of (c) belief (ÏίÏÏιÏ) and (d) conjecture (εἰκαÏία). Together they represent four conditions of the soul (511d: ÏαθήμαÏα á¼Î½ Ïá¿ ÏÏ Ïῠγιγνόμενα), and as such they are associated with different corresponding objects, whose stability accounts for their respective epistemic status: âconjectureâ to âshadows, the reflections in water and in those surfaces which are solid, smooth and shiny, and everything like thisâ (510a) i.e. images of sensibles, âbeliefâ to âthe living creatures around us, all natural things and the whole class of artificial thingsâ (510a) i.e. sensibles, âthoughtâ to âthe visible forms (â¦) although considering not the actual things, but those they resembleâ (510d) i.e. sensibles as representatives of the Forms, and âunderstandingâ to âForms themselvesâ (511c). The line is divided according to a specific, unequal ratio so that the intelligible objects and cognitive modes are cut off from the sensible objects/modes, and these two parts are again divided according to the same ratio, so that you get a+b: c+d = a: b = c: d (509d). Furthermore, we read that âjust as reality is to impermanence, understanding (νÏηÏιÏ, a+b) is to opinion (δÏξα, c+d), and as understanding is to opinion, so knowledge (a) is to belief (c) and thought (b) to conjecture (d)â (534a).
The questions this analogy leaves us with have to do with the âtwo-worlds theoryâ: how strict is the separation between different sections and what is the meaning of the ratio between them? To start with the latter question, Plato does give some indications as to what the ratio between the lengths of the sections is analogous to: the ratio between the four types of cognition and their objects pertains to a measure of âtruthâ (á¼Î»á½µÎ¸ÎµÎ¹Î±) and/or to a measure of âclarityâ (ÏαÏήνεια).73 The unavoidable yet surprising outcome of the proportions of the sections is that the length of the section representing belief (ÏίÏÏιÏ) is equal to the one representing âthoughtâ (διάνοια). This would mean that pistis and âthoughtâ share a similar degree of clarity and/or truth. In a comprehensive study into the meaning of this parallel between pistis and dianoia, Damien Storey defends this âsimple answerâ to the question of why these sections are equal in length against many possible challenges.74 Moreover, he offers an explanation of the ratio of the different sections by explaining their relationship in terms of image/likeness/copy to model/paradigm/original: conjecture concerns shadows and such (d), which are images of sensible objects (c), and thought is directed towards images (b) of the Forms themselves (a).75 Arguably then, both pistis and thought are directed towards sensible particularsâalthough the latter towards sensibles used as images of Forms76 âwhich accounts for their similarity in clarity and truth.
The relevance of this interpretation to the present study is twofold. Firstly, it ascribes a considerable amount of truth and clarity to pistis. This connection between cognates of truth and cognates of pistis is confirmed in different dialogues. In the Timaeus, it is said about the account (λÏγοÏ) of the World Soul that âwhenever it is concerned with the sensible (â¦) opinions and beliefs arise which are firm and true (δόξαι καὶ Ïá½·ÏÏÎµÎ¹Ï Î³á½·Î³Î½Î¿Î½Ïαι βέβαιοι καὶ á¼Î»Î·Î¸Îµá¿Ï)â.77 It also has an ethical equivalent, for in the Laws the man who partakes in truth (á¼Î»á½µÎ¸ÎµÎ¹Î±) is said to be a âtrustworthy person (ÏιÏÏὸÏ)â, whereas the lover of lies is an âuntrustworthy person (ὠδὲ á¼ÏιÏÏοÏ)â.78 Even when it comes to Platoâs analysis of its etymology, âfaithfulâ (ÏιÏÏόν) is connected to words like âknowledgeâ (á¼ÏιÏÏήμη), âfirmâ (βέβαιον), and âinquiryâ (á¼±ÏÏοÏία) and is explained as possessing the quality of stopping (á¼µÏÏημι), i.e. stopping the movement of our soul towards things, thus enabling stability.79
Secondly, our discussion of pistis in the divided line analogy shows that although pistis is only the third category âin lineâ, it is more closely connected to the intelligible realm than appears at first sight.80 In this regard the conceptual pair of image and original is of particular interest.81 It recurs in the Timaeus, where pistis is used in an equation not unlike those in the divided line analogy. One of the preliminary statements of the character Timaeus when he offers his narrative on the formation of the universe is that the cosmos needs to be an image (εἰκÏν) of some model (ÏαÏάδειγμα) and that any account (λόγοÏ) of both ought to match its object (29b), therefore:
The accounts of that which is copied after the likeness of that model, and is itself a likeness, will be analogous thereto and possess likelihood (á½Î½ÏÎ¿Ï Î´á½² Îµá¼°Îºá½¹Î½Î¿Ï Îµá¼°Îºá½¹ÏÎ±Ï á¼Î½á½° λόγον Ïε á¼ÎºÎµá½·Î½Ïν á½Î½ÏαÏ); for as being is to becoming, so is truth to belief (á½ Ïá½· ÏÎµÏ ÏÏá½¸Ï Î³á½³Î½ÎµÏιν οá½Ïία, ÏοῦÏο ÏÏá½¸Ï Ïá½·ÏÏιν á¼Î»á½µÎ¸ÎµÎ¹Î±). (Plato, Timaeus 29c)
Timaeus connects the realms or objects of being and becoming to truth (á¼Î»á½µÎ¸ÎµÎ¹Î±) and belief (ÏίÏÏιÏ) respectively. This seems to be in contradiction to what my conclusion based on the divided line analogy, where pistis is said to have a considerable amount of truth. Fortunately, this problem can be overcome by distinguishing between truth proper, connected to the unchanging object of being, and truth as an attribute in a derivative sense, in which epistemic conditions of the souls can partake to a certain degree.82 Yet, rather than emphasizing the poor quality of pistis as opposed to truth proper, this passage from the Timaeus shows the function of pistis as the epistemic condition to approach the sensible world par excellence. In the words of Jan van Ophuijsen:
We find here neither revaluation nor demotion of pistis. (â¦) For this is the highest activity of the soul in relation to the process-aspect of things, to perceptual change (â¦). Pistis is the âadequationâ of the soul to the phenomenal realm (â¦) [which] is not to be discarded lightly: it includes the gods and the coming-to-be of an All that is best of what has come to be: the sum total, or rather comprehensive unity of visible goodness and beauty. (Van Ophuijsen 2000, 128)
Since pistis is thus concerned with the sensible world, including the universe itself and the Olympian gods, it can even be considered to be used here in a âreligiousâ sense: it pertains to understanding of the entire physical (and, to some extent metaphysical) structure human beings are part of. Likewise, according to Daniel Babut, this is not a question of faith versus reason; rather, it is a matter of different degrees of knowledge. The traditional gods are on an intermediate ontological level and, correspondingly, pistis is the intermediate epistemological level:
This intermediate position on the ontological map logically corresponds to an intermediate level or degree as regards knowledge typesâthat of âfaithâ (ÏίÏÏιÏ) compared to âtruthâ (á¼Î»á½µÎ¸ÎµÎ¹Î±). One could also say that, just as the gods of tradition are the reflection, on a lower plane, of the absolute Divine, so the uncertainty as regards them responds, in some way, to the difficulty of perceiving the Principle supreme, the Idea of Good. (â¦) Whatever has been said, there is no conflict between reason and faith, because both retain their value, yet on different planes. (Babut 1974, 94â95)83
Pistis thus functions in the Timaeus as the manner in which people may know things on earth and in the heavens, though it does not reach as far as the highest ontological realm.
The question to ask, then, is not so much where pistis belongs in the order of cognitive states, but rather what level of cognition is humanly attainable according to Plato. In fact, one possible answer is offered in the immediate context of the previous citation from the Timaeus. In proceeding with his speech, Timaeus warns his audience, by hinting at the previous wordplay between likeness (εἰκÏν) and likelihood (εἰκÏÏ), that:
we should be content if we can furnish accounts that are inferior to none in likelihood (Î¼Î·Î´ÎµÎ½á½¸Ï á¼§ÏÏον ÏαÏεÏώμεθα εἰκόÏαÏ), remembering that both I who speak and you who judge are but human creatures, so that it becomes us to accept the likely account (Ïὸν εἰκόÏα μῦθον) of these matters and forbear to search beyond it. (Plato, Timaeus 29câd)
In other words, according to Timaeus, as humans we ought to be content with the epistemic condition of conviction (ÏίÏÏιÏ), corresponding to the ontological condition of a likeness or image (εἰκÏν), characterized by becoming and likelihood.
This modest estimation of human epistemic capabilities as Platoâs own stance on the attainability of knowledge proper was not only recognized throughout Hellenistic philosophy, with the sceptical Academy as its more extremist proponent;84 it is also a viable position in present-day scholarship. Franco Trabattoniâs Essays on Platoâs Epistemology is as one recent example in which even the central books of the Republic are put forth to establish that âit is not true that according to Plato man can attain complete knowledge of ideal realityâ.85 The distinctive quality of the philosophers, Trabattoni argues, is not their possession of genuine knowledge, of which only the sophoi, i.e. gods can boast, but their aspiration to attain genuine knowledge, hence their name âphilo-sophoiâ.86
That brings us to the meaning of love in Platoâs epistemology. The depiction of philosophy as not so much loveâas the prefix suggestsâbut rather as a burning desire for wisdom was actually a Platonic adaptation of the earlier conception according to which a philosopher was already in possession of this beloved wisdom.87 The Symposium offers this adaptation in the context of a lively set of speeches, in which not the nature of philosophy, but the nature of ErÅs is under consideration. Socrates, the human âembodimentâ of ErÅs in the dialogue,88 presents us with the philosopher as in-between figure: he knows that his human cognition is insufficient yet this increases his yearning for wisdom, his philosophical erÅs. Thus, âErÅs reminds humans of their distance from what transcends them, yet at the same time, it links them to the transcendent.â89 The idea is that humans can reach from love for instances of beauty on this earth towards a more abstract knowledge of beauty: âso that he comes to know the very essence of beautyâ (ἵνα γνῷ αá½Ïὸ ÏÎµÎ»ÎµÏ Ïῶν á½ á¼ÏÏι καλόν).90 The ontological and epistemological connection between particular sensibles and universal intelligibles in the same dialogue will return in our discussion of Plutarch (§4.3.5) and Paul (§4.4.3). Moreover, the conceptual closeness of (a lack of) knowledge and love that we encounter in the Symposium, will be taken up again in our discussion of 1 Corinthians 13 (§4.4.4). In Paulâs thought, pistis seems to take up the role of Platonic ErÅs: a firm bridge to the divine yet also a provisional, temporal mode of cognition that reminds humans of their dependence upon the divine and ultimate.
To sum up, in analysing pistis as a technical epistemological term in Plato, we have seen that it possesses a non-negligible amount of truth and clarity and that it is the highest cognitive condition directed at the entire sensible world, which may well be all that human beings, including philosophers, can attain in this life. What I have not yet addressed is the occurrence of different qualities of pistis. For Plato not only mentions âtrue beliefâ (ÏίÏÏÎ¹Ï á¼Î»Î·Î¸á½µÏ) and âcorrect beliefâ (ÏίÏÏÎ¹Ï á½Ïθή) but also âerroneous beliefâ (ÏίÏÏÎ¹Ï ÏÎµÏ Î´Î®Ï) and âbelief without knowingâ (ÏίÏÏÎ¹Ï á¼Î½ÎµÏ Ïοῦ εἰδέναι).91 The passages in which these different qualities of pistis are explicitly discussed may help us to answer one final question: whether Plato gave any indications that pistis can actually become stronger, and if so, how. Or, put differently, is there an avenue from the sensible world to the intelligible, and if so, how are we to envision the function of pistis?
A connection between the epistemic dispositions of knowledge (á¼ÏιÏÏήμη) and belief (ÏίÏÏιÏ) is offered in the Gorgias, a dialogue where one would perhaps least expect it, since it is famous for its radical distinction between the sophist, represented by Gorgias, and the philosopher, impersonated by Socrates. Indeed, in the Gorgias, the sharp distinction is made between âhaving learntâ (μεμαθηκέναι) and âhaving believedâ (ÏεÏιÏÏÎµÏ Îºá½³Î½Î±Î¹).92 However, after strongly distinguishing between learning/knowledge (μάθηÏιÏ/á¼ÏιÏÏήμη) and belief or persuasion (ÏίÏÏιÏ), which can be either erroneous or true, Socrates reasons (and Gorgias agrees) that two forms of persuasion exist: âThen would you have us assume two forms of persuasion (δύο εἴδη (â¦) ÏειθοῦÏ)âone providing belief without knowing, and the other knowledge (Ïὸ μὲν Ïá½·ÏÏιν ÏαÏεÏόμενον á¼Î½ÎµÏ Ïοῦ εἰδέναι, Ïὸ δ᾿ á¼ÏιÏÏήμην)?â93 The business of rhetoric is considered to be persuasion of the first kind, whereas learning is a type of persuasion said to produce true knowledge.94 The inclusion of pistis along with epistÄmÄ under the heading of persuasion at least suggests some relationship between the two. Nevertheless, Plato does not offer any further specifications as to the precise degree of similarity, nor does he comment on the place of true and erroneous pistis in this scheme. According to Tagliaâs thesis about a development in meaning of pistis within Platoâs dialogues, this passage belongs to the first phase, in which pistis is the opposite of knowledge (á¼ÏιÏÏήμη).95 Later, in the Republic, she observes, instead of âphases of every single cognitive actâ they constitute âlevels of thought which constitute the dimension of someoneâs entire lifeâ.96
If we turn to the final book of the Republic, we do get a glimpse of how Plato imagines the connection. The subject under discussion is the epistemic value of poetry. Three skills are distinguished: using, making, and imitating (601d: ÏÏηÏομένην, ÏοιήÏÎ¿Ï Ïαν, μιμηÏομένην).
So the one who knows reports (ὠμὲν Îµá¼°Î´á½¼Ï á¼Î¾Î±Î³Î³á½³Î»Î»ÎµÎ¹) on the good and bad pipes, the other takes his word for it and will make them accordingly (ὠδὲ ÏιÏÏεύÏν ÏοιήÏει)? Yes. Then the maker of this same instrument will have a correct opinion (ὠμὲν ÏοιηÏá½´Ï Ïá½·ÏÏιν á½Ïθὴν á¼Î¾ÎµÎ¹) about its good and bad points through his cooperation with the expert and his being obliged to listen to him, but itâs the user who has the knowledge (ὠδὲ ÏÏá½½Î¼ÎµÎ½Î¿Ï á¼ÏιÏÏήμην)? Very much so. (Plato, Republic 601eâ602a)
Using an object (like rains and a bridle or a flute) is said to produce knowledge (á¼ÏιÏÏήμη), making it correspond to having a correct belief (ÏίÏÏÎ¹Ï á½Ïθή). From the remainder of the conversation, we learn that imitatingâwhich includes the art of poetryâequals knowing nothing of value (602b: Ïόν Ïε μιμηÏικὸν μηδὲν εἰδέναι á¼Î¾Î¹Î¿Î½ Î»á½¹Î³Î¿Ï ÏεÏὶ ὧν μιμεá¿Ïαι).
Fortunately, this additional trichotomy of cognition, which again shows the intermediate position of pistis, is not all we can infer from this passage. In contrast to epistÄmÄ, pistis is a category of cognition which depends on an authority that has had direct acquaintance with the object in question. Only then it becomes orthÄs, âcorrectâ belief. For this reason, it is a type of indirect cognition, dependent on the testimony of others. Hence, âyour pistis is appropriate in proportion to the credibility of the object or authority that you place it in.â97 This connection between epistÄmÄ and pistis is also confirmed by the allegory of the cave in the same dialogue: the people inside the cave are dependent on the testimony of the one returning from outside the cave (516e ff.), who has seen âjustice itselfâ (517d: αá½Ïὴν δικαιοÏύνην) to reach a correct belief, which is as much as can be achieved in the dim situation they are in.98
The indirectness of pistis is also emphasized by Taglia, even when it comes to what she views as the highest status of Platonic pistis in the Laws. In this later work, pistis in relationship to the gods (ÏεÏὶ θεῶν) is deemed the ultimate ingredient to the paideia, the education of the wardens of the city (as it concerns faith versus godlessness)âI will discuss this passage (Plato, Laws 966d) in §8.3.1 below. Pistis then represents âcontact with the non-mediated divinity of the laws, which allows for an understanding of and serves to guarantee conformity of the polis laws with the cosmic order.â99 In this phase, Taglia still emphasizes the dependence of pistis on epistÄmÄ:
Pistis is, therefore, a state which is still below epistÄmÄ, one which is guaranteed by epistÄmÄ. Since, however, unlike in the Republic, piqued knowledge of pistis is a divine knowledge, the relationship of pistis with human knowledge has changed. The human epistÄmÄ collaborates with pistis and makes it possible, but the very compatibility with pistis indicates the limit of human knowledge, its lack of autonomy. (Taglia 1998, 44)100
It is doubtful whether the passage in the Laws, on which Taglia builds the final part of her argument, should indeed be seen as part of an epistemological discourse. Nevertheless, it confirms the provisionality and indirectness of pistis as a cognitive state, while it also suggests that there is a connection possible with knowledge proper.
I conclude with one final thought about what distinguishes pistis from lower cognitive powers. Both the discussion on poetry and the cave-allegory in the Republic offer some more insight into the distinction between the two lower mental states, which, in a manner analogous to the divided line passage, could be named conjecture (eikasia) and belief (pistis). The people who still look at the shadows do not even ask after the real existence of their objects and are very much like the poets or imitators and their audience in Republic X, who do not even consider the actual use of their object, do not know âwhether theyâre good and correct or notâ and do not âgain the right opinion (δόξαν á½Ïθὴν)â (602a). Jessica Moss highlights this psychological distinction as a âdistinction between passively accepting appearances and actively making affirmations about how things are.â101 Thus, based on her analysis of passages from the Theaetetus, the Republic, and âlater Platoâ, it can be considered a Platonic precursor to the eventual Sceptic and Stoic distinction: âeikasia and pistis correspond to Hellenistic appearance-reception and assent.â102 The first entails a passive yielding to an impression, without questioning its reality or goodness. The second an active process of reflection or calculation, logismos, based on which one (correctly or falsely) assents, aiming at the truth, i.e. the real object underneath it.103
The argument is convincing, yet regardless of whether or not this psychological and inquisitive meaning of pistis can truly be attributed to Plato, it may very well have given rise to the Hellenistic developments, which we will turn to now. Since Plato evidently limited the epistemic scope of pistis to the sensible world, yet was not explicit about the attainability of anything beyond pistis, it could perform a whole range of epistemic functions to those who considered themselves heir to his philosophical legacy. I have selected three of these heirs: Aristotle, Philo, and Plutarch. Together, they are illustrative of what constituted the semantic domain of pistis as a cognitive category by the time Christians began to participate in this discourse.
4.3.3 Aristotle: All-round Use of Pistis in Connection with Perception, Reasoning, and First Principles
Plato himself is not the only one accused of confining pistis to the sublunary world and thus separating it from the realm of knowledge and reason. There is a vivid scholarly debate about the manner in which for instance âMiddle Platonistâ Plutarch uses pistis and cognates. But before we leap to Plutarch and his supposed fideism, we ought to have a look at the period in-between, where Platoâs legacy was taken up and developed in different directions, amongst these the Peripatetic tradition, grounded in the teachings of Aristotle.
In the Aristotelean corpus, a strictly epistemological usage of pistis (i.e. representing a formal cognitive faculty or category of cognition) is relatively rare and the connection with a specific type of knowledge as its object is all but completely absent. The fourfold categorization of Platoâs divided line analogy did find its way into Aristotleâs own teachings as four cognitive faculties, but pistis is here replaced by doxa (opinion).104 This is in itself telling, for as further usage of pistis in Aristotle confirms, pistis is thought of in a more univocal âpositiveâ light. If pistis is used in epistemological contexts, its meaning approximates being persuaded, in accordance with Aristotleâs more technical treatment of the term in the reified sense of âproofâ in his Rhetoric.105 As a persuasion, it can be either weak or strong, and it can be equally strong when it concerns true knowledge (á¼ÏιÏÏήμη) as when it pertains to opinion (δÏξα).106 While the typical rhetorical usage will be discussed in the next chapter (§5.3.1), it is relevant to look at a few more instances here, where pistis is used in a less technical, yet overtly rhetorical sense.
The relationship between pistis and apprehension (á½ÏÏληÏιÏ) is discussed in his treatise on dialectic reasoning, Topics. Aristotle considers knowledge a species of the genus apprehension. Conviction (ÏίÏÏιÏ) and apprehension, though, are not related as species and genus:
neither is conviction apprehension (οá½Î´á¾¿ ἡ Ïá½·ÏÏÎ¹Ï á½ÏόληÏιÏ); for it is possible to have the same apprehension even without being convinced of it (Ïὴν αá½Ïὴν á½ÏόληÏιν καὶ μὴ ÏιÏÏεύονÏα á¼Ïειν), whereas this is impossible if conviction is a species of apprehension (εἴÏÎµÏ Îµá¼¶Î´Î¿Ï á¼¡ Ïá½·ÏÏÎ¹Ï á½ÏολήÏεÏÏ). (Aristotle, Topics 125b35â38)
The explanation Aristotle offers here is that in a similar manner, the same animal (a genus) cannot be a man (a species) and not a man, so since an apprehension can be one of which someone can be convinced and not convinced, apprehension is not the genus of pistis. A little further, though, Aristotle admits that people generally do consider belief (pistis) as belonging to the genus apprehension, for they speak of it as an intensified apprehension (ἡ Ïá½·ÏÏÎ¹Ï á½ÏόληÏÎ¹Ï ÏÏοδÏá½±), with âintensifiedâ functioning as its differentiating quality.107 As we shall see below, this definition of pistis as a strong, fortified type of apprehension, which is recorded hesitatingly by Aristotle, is later taken up in complete accord by the Stoics (see §5.3.6 below).
Pistis is not only an intense form of apprehension; in the corpus Aristotelicum it is also closely connected to reason (λÏγοÏ). In On the Soul, Aristotle wonders whether imagination (ÏανÏαÏία) is similar to opinion (δÏξα). It is not, he concludes, for opinion is necessarily followed by pistis, which implies persuasion and ultimately reason. Hence, pistis is described as a distinctively human capacity, lacking in animals:
But opinion implies belief (á¼Î»Î»á½° δόξῠμὲν á¼ÏεÏαι Ïá½·ÏÏιÏ)âfor one cannot hold opinions in which one does not believe (Î¿á¼·Ï Î´Î¿ÎºÎµá¿ Î¼á½´ ÏιÏÏεύειν; and no animal has belief (Ïῶν δὲ θηÏá½·Ïν οá½Î¸ÎµÎ½á½¶ á½Ïá½±ÏÏει Ïá½·ÏÏιÏ), but many have imagination. Again, every opinion is accompanied by belief, belief by conviction, and conviction by reason (á¼Ïι Ïá½±Ïῠμὲν δόξῠá¼ÎºÎ¿Î»Î¿Ï θεῠÏá½·ÏÏιÏ, Ïá½·ÏÏει δὲ Ïὸ ÏεÏεá¿Ïθαι, Ïειθοῠδὲ λόγοÏ); but although some creatures have imagination, they have no reasoning power. (Aristotle, On the Soul 428a20â25)
The place of pistis in this catalogue of human capacities is telling: it stands etymologically as well as pragmatically close to being convinced (ÏεÏεá¿Ïθαι), wherefore it is necessarily part of each act of opining and always implies the use of rational discourse or reason.108 In a sixth-century commentary on Aristotleâs On the Soul attributed to Simplicius, the author explains that âpistis is the assent to what is known as true (ÏίÏÏÎ¹Ï Î´Î á¼ÏÏιν ἡ á½¡Ï á¼Î»Î·Î¸Îµá¿ Ïá¿· γνÏÏθÎνÏι ÏÏ Î³ÎºÎ±ÏάθεÏιÏ), wherefore it does not exist without reasonable arguments (διὸ καὶ á¼Î»ÏÎ³Î¿Î¹Ï Î¿á½Ï á½ÏάÏÏει).â109 This epistemological use of pistis as a firm grasp recurs in Stoic thought (see §5.3.5) and in Philo (see §4.3.3). As for Aristotleâs use, it is in any case clear that pistis cannot be thought of without reason (λÏγοÏ).110
So what type of reason is Aristotle speaking of? In On the Soul, where his aim is not to solve epistemological problems but to give an account of perception, reason is an activity of the soulâthat of receiving the form or essence of what is perceived. Yet in other treatises reason seems to function in a more general epistemological sense of âreasoningâ and ârational argumentationâ. We learn that, according to Aristotle, a conviction (ÏίÏÏιÏ) may be based on inductive reasoning from observations, but can also be involved in deductive reasoning from premises.111 To illustrate the first point, Aristotle states that the immortal nature of the heavens deserves pistis based on repeated observations of its immutability.112 The connection between observation and reason as means to convince, to create pistis, is evident in ethical contexts as well. After correcting the bare âknowledge is virtueâ teaching he ascribes to Socrates,113 Aristotle states that we need to âaim for pistis in these matters by means of rational argumentsâ, which in turn include âphenomena used as evidences and examplesâ:
in the case of virtue it is not the knowledge of its essential nature that is most valuable (οὠÏὸ εἰδέναι ÏιμιώÏαÏον Ïá½· á¼ÏÏιν) but the ascertainment of the sources that produce it (Ïὸ γινώÏκειν á¼Îº ÏίνÏν á¼ÏÏίν). For our aim is not to know what courage is but to be courageous, not to know what justice is but to be just, (â¦) And about all these matters the endeavour must be made to seek to convince by means of rational arguments (ζηÏεá¿Î½ Ïὴν Ïá½·ÏÏιν διὰ Ïῶν λόγÏν), using observed facts as evidences and examples (μαÏÏÏ Ïá½·Î¿Î¹Ï ÎºÎ±á½¶ ÏαÏαδείγμαÏι ÏÏώμενον Ïοá¿Ï ÏαινομένοιÏ). For the best thing would be if all mankind were seen to be in agreement with (ÏÏ Î½Î¿Î¼Î¿Î»Î¿Î³Î¿á¿¦Î½ÏαÏ) the views that will be stated, but failing that, at any rate that all should agree in some way. (Aristotle, Eudemian Ethics 1.5.18 (1216b20â31))
Pistis, in this context, is a persuasion brought about by reason (λÏγοÏ), which includes sensible or subjective examples and strives to make all people live virtuously. In fact, from the Analytics, we know that Aristotle considered examples (ÏαÏαδείγμαÏα) the rhetorical variant of inductive reasoning.114 This is the type of reasoning that, according to this passage, leads to conviction (ÏίÏÏιÏ), which in itself is a prelude to virtue, a necessary additional step following up on the Socratic acquisition of relevant knowledge.
These findings demonstrate that the act of reasoning that brings about pistis can be inductive, based on repeated perceptions or rhetorical proofs and examples. Pistis is not limited to this type of reasoning, though. In the Physics, we learn that the pistis or conviction that the reversing of a movement involves âstoppingâ, can be based not only on empirical observation but also on reasoning as such (ἡ Ïá½·ÏÏÎ¹Ï Î¿á½ Î¼á½¹Î½Î¿Î½ á¼Ïὶ Ïá¿Ï αἰÏθήÏεÏÏ á¼Î»Î»á½° καὶ á¼Ïὶ Ïοῦ Î»á½¹Î³Î¿Ï ).115 The type of reasoning that follows is of a deductive nature, arguing from accepted or evident premises such as the one that âone cannot arrive and depart at the same point in timeâ. Similarly, in the introduction of the Topics, where different types of deductive reasoning are discussed, pistis is said to be partake in reasoning as demonstration (á¼ÏÏδειξιÏ), the type that produces knowledge (á¼ÏιÏÏήμη),116 and proceeds âfrom premises which are true and primaryâ (á¼Î¾ á¼Î»Î·Î¸á¿¶Î½ καὶ ÏÏá½½ÏÏν) as opposed to dialectical reasoning, âfrom generally accepted opinionsâ (á¼Î¾ á¼Î½Î´á½¹Î¾Ïν):117
Things are true and primary which command belief through themselves and not through anything else (á¼ÏÏι δὲ á¼Î»Î·Î¸á¿ μὲν καὶ ÏÏῶÏα Ïá½° μὴ δι᾿ á¼Ïá½³ÏÏν á¼Î»Î»á½° δι᾿ αá½Ïῶν á¼ÏονÏα Ïὴν Ïá½·ÏÏιν); for regarding the first principles of science it is unnecessary to ask any further question as to âwhy,â but each principle should of itself command belief (á¼Îºá½±ÏÏην Ïῶν á¼ÏÏῶν αá½Ïὴν καθ᾿ á¼Î±Ï Ïὴν εἶναι ÏιÏÏήν). (Aristotle, Topics 100b18â21)
Aristotle here presents the first principles, the axioms, as objects of pistis.118 They are evident and trustworthy in and of themselves and can thus be used as certain premises in a demonstrative syllogism.
In accordance with this role of pistis, having epistÄmÄ is defined by Aristotle as having a conviction (pisteuÅ) arrived at in a certain way, with certain knowledge of the first principles:
A man knows a thing scientifically (á¼Ïá½·ÏÏαÏαι) when he possesses a conviction arrived at in a certain way, and when the first principles [on which that conviction rests] are known to him with certainty (á½ Ïαν Î³á½±Ï ÏÏÏ ÏιÏÏεύῠκαὶ γνώÏιμοι αá½Ïá¿· ὦÏιν αἱ á¼ÏÏαί)âfor unless he is more certain of his first principles than of the conclusion drawn from them he will only possess the knowledge in question accidentally. (Aristotle, Nicomachean Ethics 6.3.4 (1139b33â35))119
Here, a conviction of the first principles appears to require more than their appearance; it must be acquired in some particular way (ÏÏÏ). This short statement is elucidated by a statement on the nature of phronÄsis further on in the Nichomachean Ethics. This quality is not in reach of the young, we learn here, because first principles (á¼ÏÏαί) are known based on experience (á¼Î¾ á¼Î¼ÏειÏίαÏ), whereas âthe young can only repeat them without being convinced of their truthâ (Ïá½° μὲν οὠÏιÏÏεÏÎ¿Ï Ïιν οἱ νÎοι á¼Î»Î»á½° λÎÎ³Î¿Ï Ïιν).120 In this context, pistis is used in contrast to speech: in order to achieve knowledge, a seasoned conviction (pistis) of the first principles, as opposed to mere parroting leading to accidental knowledge, is necessary.
To sum up, we have seen that according to Aristotle, pistis and the act of pisteuÅ represent an intensified form of apprehension, that in many examples, pistis is connected to reason (λÏγοÏ), and that it is used across the epistemological spectrum as arising from repeated perception, subjective evidence, deductive reasoning, and even from the first principles themselves. In accordance with his more positive stance on sense perception, Aristotleâs epistemological usage of pistis lacks âPlatonicâ suspicion or confinement to sensible particulars. It is a human, strong, and reasonable conviction that is even used in conjunction with epistÄmÄ as a seasoned knowledge of the first principles.121
This usage of pistis language to indicate the grasping of true knowledge recurs in the wake of Aristotle. In the pseudo-Aristotelean treatise On the Cosmos (De mundo), which is difficult to date precisely but must have been written between the first century bc and the second ad, the unknown author comes up with several metaphors in order to explain the workings of âthe leader and author of all things, unseen except to reason (á¼á½¹ÏαÏÎ¿Ï á½¢Î½ á¼Î»Î»á¿³ Ïλὴν λογιÏμῷ)â.122 In this context, the verb pisteuÅ is used to indicate how humans may after all perceive the divine influence behind all natural processes in the world:123
It is a similar idea that we must have of the universe: by a single inclination all things are spurred to action and perform their peculiar functionsâand this single agent is unseen and invisible (καὶ ÏαύÏÎ·Ï á¼Î¿Ïá½±ÏÎ¿Ï ÎºÎ±á½¶ á¼ÏανοῦÏ). Its invisibility is no impediment either to its own action or to our belief in it (οá½Ïε á¼ÎºÎµá½·Î½á¿ ÏÏá½¸Ï Ïὸ δÏᾶν οá½Ïε ἡμá¿Î½ ÏÏá½¸Ï Ïὸ ÏιÏÏεῦÏαι); for the soul, whereby we live and build households and cities, though it is invisible is perceived through its deeds (á¼á½¹ÏαÏÎ¿Ï Î¿á½Ïα Ïοá¿Ï á¼ÏÎ³Î¿Î¹Ï Î±á½Ïá¿Ï á½ÏᾶÏαι). (Pseudo-Aristotle, On the Cosmos 399b10â17)
This is an important pagan witness to the language of âbelieving the invisibleâ, yet without any trace of anti-intellectualism. Instead, pisteuÅ is akin to reason and indicates gaining knowledge of something absolute, something beyond the ability of the senses. It is good to keep this contrast between âfaithâ and âsightâ in mind when we turn to Paul (§4.4.3 in particular). The idea that an invisible divine power can be âseenâ through its actions was, at least, shared among these authors (see Rom 1.20, on which see §2.4.1 above).
The positive attitude of Aristotle towards pistis was also used in the second century ad by Clement of Alexandria to underline the indispensability of âfaithâ for attaining the ultimate principles. In his Miscellanies (Stromateis), Clement refers to Aristotleâs Posterior Analytics (specifically 1.2.71b33â72a5) in order to demonstrate that âSensation is the ladder to Knowledge; while Faith, advancing over the pathway of the objects of sense, leaves Opinion behind, and speeds to things free of deception, and reposes in the truth.â124 Aristotleâs use of pistis in connection with the first principles is thus exploited by Clement in order to defend its centrality in Christian teachings. My argument in this chapter is that such an understanding of pistis as an epistemological bridge to divine knowledge can already be discerned in Paulâs letters, wherefore Paulâs epistemological usage of pistis may be understood as a contribution to this Platonic discourse.
4.3.4 Philo: Pistis as Penultimate Virtue of Stability That Consists of Trusting the Trustworthy
Both from within Platoâs corpus and from the works of his most famous student there is no reason, so it seems, to disregard pistis as nothing more than something to set off true knowledge. But what happened, one might ask, when its philosophical usage blended into the monotheistic religions?125 If pistis is directed at God, does its meaning correspondingly shift towards irrational allegiance? This is indeed suggested in histories of philosophy such as the one written by Giovanni Reale:
We are in the presence of a profound overturning of a perspective in comparison with the moral rationalism of the Greeks (â¦) [T]he break with Hellenic rationalism involves the introduction of a new virtue, that of faith, which is placed at the very apex of all the virtues. (â¦) The new âwise manâ is the man who has faith in God, who places all his trust in Him, giving all to Him, trying in all possible ways âto follow Himâ and âto imitate Him.â (Reale 1990, 202)
This is an astounding example of the imposition of the Enlightenment dichotomy between faith and reason on ancient philosophy. It suggests that the cleft between Philo and his philosophical predecessors and contemporaries is unbridgeable, while Academics, Stoics, and Epicureans were in perfect agreement on their rational approach to metaphysics and ethics. My main argument here is that while Philo expands the previous philosophical usage of pistis to include relational and divine elements, it remains a particularly rational category.
In the large corpus of the Alexandrian Jewish Platonist Philo, pistis does function in ways different from his pagan philosophical predecessors.126 Whereas up until now the discourse was strictly epistemological, concerned with sensible or intelligible objects of pistis, in Philo, the element of interpersonal trust is blended with the more cognitive colouring of pistis. In contrast with the scant interest in pistis in Aristotle, Philoâs usage of the term has received a fair amount of scholarly attention. Thus, instead of discussing and weighing all the instances of pistis as if I were working from scratch, I will instead refer to trends in scholarly literature, critically review them if necessary, and illustrate this with relevant passages, with a focus on the epistemic value of the pistis vocabulary.
There are some problems with doing justice to Philo, to both his reliance on sources and his original application of them.127 For one thing, there is the enormous gap in contemporary references. Both on the Jewish and on the Greek side, he stands very much alone in the landscape of extant material.128 Some careful comparisons yield significant results, though. For our purposes, an interesting aspect in which he is in convergence with the limited Pythagorean-Platonic sources of the period is the distance between the divine and the world. According to Mauro Bobazzi, this was an important new tendency in imperial Platonism: âEudorus, Plutarchâs teacher Ammonius, the pseudo-Timaeus and the pseudo-Archytas of the treatise on principles all agree in calling the first principle âGodââ, moreover, âthese authors agree in insisting on the separateness and superiority of the first divine principleâ.129
A second problem in dealing with Philo is a lack of consistency within the large Philonic corpus. This may be partly due to a conscious method: in his large number of commentaries on Scripture, he takes his starting point from the texts and combines this with his philosophical legacy and insights.130 While this may explain some irregularities, others may be traced back to differences in genre between commentaries and more general philosophical expositions. Of the latter specific cluster of writings, the Philonic authorship has often been disputed, or the different views espoused are explained as a result of their original setting in the classroom, representing received instead of personal teachings.131 An example of an inconsistency, analogous to the issue of an utterly transcendent God, is his alternation between identifying God with the monad or the one and placing him above even these philosophical principles.132 I cannot delve deeper into this general interpretative problem here. We will encounter similar differences in Philoâs usage of pistis, however, and the issue of Godâs transcendence will prove helpful here.
A first thing that comes to the fore when we compare Philoâs usage of pistis to that of Plato and Aristotle is that it can be roughly divided into two categories: (1) instances in which Philo explains usage of pistis in the Septuagint, where it is most often directed at God (and often related to Abraham or Moses) and (2) more familiar, general usage of pistis language, mostly in the reified sense of âproofâ, âpledgeâ, or âevidenceâ yet also conveying actions of trusting or believing.133
To illustrate the second category, instances of animals changing colour are considered âclear proofs of the impossibility of apprehensionâ (Ïá½·ÏÏÎµÎ¹Ï á¼Î½Î±Ïγεá¿Ï á¼ÎºÎ±ÏαληÏίαÏ).134 In this example, we see that Philo clearly shares Platoâs scepticism of sense-perception.135 Similar to Aristotleâs distinction of types of pistis, not only can pistis be based on examples, but also on reason (λÏγοÏ). The ideas about parents outranking children are âself-evidently clearâ (δá¿Î»Î¿Î½ μὲν á¼Îº Ïá¿Ï á¼Î½Î±ÏγείαÏ); yet logical proofs will ratify their truth still further (αἱ δ᾿ á¼Îº Î»á½¹Î³Î¿Ï Ïá½·ÏÏÎµÎ¹Ï á¼Ïι μᾶλλον á¼ÏιÏÏÏαγιοῦνÏαι Ïὴν á¼Î»á½µÎ¸ÎµÎ¹Î±Î½).136 Words may be trusted or not: the âwondersâ Moses and Aaron performed before Pharaoh were meant to establish trust in what they had to say: âthinking that the sight would convert them from the prevailing unbelief to belief in his words (á¼ÏιÏÏá½·Î±Ï Îµá¼°Ï Ïá½·ÏÏιν Ïῶν λεγομένÏν μεÏαβαλεá¿Î½).â137 And oaths in particular are meant to establish faith in things difficult to trust: âMatters that are in doubt are decided by an oath, insecure things made secure (Ïá½° á¼Î²á½³Î²Î±Î¹Î± βεβαιοῦÏαι), assurance given to that which lacked it (Ïá½° á¼ÏιÏÏα λαμβάνει Ïá½·ÏÏιν).â138
The cases in which pistis is used in the sense of âevidenceâ are quite numerous; if we follow the analysis of David Hay, they together make up 93 cases, that is 59.6 percent of all Philoâs uses of pistis.139 While the former examples speak of âproofsâ of truths that we would not consider âreligiousâ, many of these occurrences of reified pistis are used to substantiate claims about God, Scripture, and providence.140 Unlike Hay, who wanted to argue for the likelihood of a similar reified usage of pistis in the New Testament (cf. §3.4.1 above), our question here is whether Philoâs pistis vocabulary shows traces of fideism, a supra-rational trust regardless of rational evidence to the contrary. To further investigate this question, we should now turn to Philoâs interpretation of the biblical stories of Abraham and Moses.
Perhaps one of the more suspect passages when it comes to fideism is a description of the future-oriented trust of Abraham, based solely on Godâs promise:
Thus he testifies to the trust which the soul reposed in God (μαÏÏÏ Ïίαν Ïá½·ÏÏεÏÏ á¼£Î½ á¼Ïá½·ÏÏÎµÏ Ïεν ἡ ÏÏ Ïá½´ θεῷ), exhibiting its thankfulness not as called out by accomplished facts, but by expectation of what was to be. For the soul, clinging in utter dependence on a good hope (á¼ÎºÎºÏεμαÏθεá¿Ïα á¼Î»Ïá½·Î´Î¿Ï ÏÏηÏÏá¿Ï), and deeming that things not present are beyond question already present by reason of the sure steadfastness of Him that promised them (διὰ Ïὴν Ïοῦ á½ÏοÏÏÎ¿Î¼á½³Î½Î¿Ï Î²ÎµÎ²Î±Î¹á½¹ÏηÏα), has won as its meed faith, a perfect good (Ïá½·ÏÏιν, á¼Î³Î±Î¸á½¸Î½ Ïέλειον); for we read a little later âAbraham believed Godâ (Gen 15.6). (Philo, On the Migration of Abraham 43â44)
Abrahamâs pistis is an âutter dependence on a useful hopeâ placed in âthings not presentâ. Does this mean it is naive, fabulous, irrational type of faith? Two remarkable aspects of pistis are mentioned here which are part of Philoâs standard description of the term: its connection to âstabilityâ (βεβαιÏÏηÏ) and its definition as a âperfect goodâ (á¼Î³Î±Î¸á½¸Î½ Ïέλειον), the first a common epistemological quality, the second a typical ethical qualification (though, as will be made clear, one that is inextricable from cognitive activity). From descriptions of these two aspects in different works, we learn more about Philoâs conception of faith.
As for the stability, this is the ultimate quality of God as opposed to the instability and variability of creation.141 In its connection to pistis, it stands for cognitive surety, a stable disposition of the wise, against doubt, doublemindedness, and hesitation, qualities of the unstable disposition of the fool (cf. the next chapter, esp. §5.3.6, on the Stoic usage of pistis in relation to the wise).142 Philo explains that Moses was a âwise manâ (ÏοÏÏÏ) because (according to Deut 5.31) he had this divine privilege to stand with âGod who ever stands fastâ (Ïοῦ á¼ÏÏῶÏÎ¿Ï á¼Îµá½¶ θεοῦ).143 Philo explains that this âstanding with Godâ is the privilege to
put off doubt and hesitation, the qualities of the unstable mind (ἵνα á¼Î½Î´Î¿Î¹Î±Ïμὸν καὶ á¼ÏαμÏοÏεÏιÏμόν, á¼Î²ÎµÎ²Î±á½·Î¿Ï ÏÏ Ïá¿Ï διαθέÏÎµÎ¹Ï á¼ÏÎ¿Î´Ï ÏάμενοÏ), and put on that surest and most stable quality, faith (καὶ βεβαιοÏá½±Ïην διάθεÏιν, Ïá½·ÏÏιν, á¼Î½Î´á½»ÏηÏαι). (Philo, On the Confusion of Tongues 31)
Mosesâs yearning for seeing the divine nature (Ex 33.13), a difficult endeavour, is explained as a hope âto obtain at length a view free from all falsehood (ἵν᾿ ἤδη ÏοÏá½² á¼ÏÎµÏ Î´Î¿á¿¦Ï Î´á½¹Î¾Î·Ï Î¼ÎµÏαλαβὼν), and to exchange doubt and uncertainty for a most assured confidence (á¼Î²ÎµÎ²Î±á½·Î¿Ï á¼Î½Î´Î¿Î¹Î±Ïμοῦ βεβαιοÏá½±Ïην Ïá½·ÏÏιν á¼Î»Î»á½±Î¾Î·Ïαι).â144 Moses considered wisdom to be the attempt to receive God himself as inheritance, and Philo warns that these are not âopinions held by men who halt between two opinions (Ïá½° δὲ δόγμαÏα οá½Îº á¼ÏαμÏοÏεÏιζόνÏÏν ÏαῦÏ᾿ á¼ÏÏίν), but by men possessed by steadfast faith (á¼Î»Î»á½° βεβαίᾳ Ïá½·ÏÏει καÏεÏÏημένÏν).â145 In describing pistis as a firm mental disposition, Philo approximates Stoic usage of the term as a quality of sages (see §5.3.5).
Philo also describes pistis in ethical terms as a âperfect goodâ, âthe most perfect of the virtuesâ, and âthe queen of the virtuesâ.146 Interestingly, this virtue of pistis is not in any sense at odds with the action of pisteuÅ. Rather, in the passage quoted above (On the Migration of Abraham 43â44) as elsewhere, the virtue of faithfulness consists of the action of believing or trusting, expressed in the Septuagint and accordingly by Philo with the verb pisteuÅ, and this does not seem to be problematic for Philo.147
Pistis is often mentioned as a virtue in connection with the figure of Abraham, whom Philo also regards as a sage.148 He fled his home with the Chaldeans, a people characterized by Philo as divinizing creation itself and as holding âthat there is no originating cause outside the things we perceive by our sensesâ (οá½Î´á½²Î½ á¼Î¾Ï Ïῶν αἰÏθηÏῶν αἴÏιον á½ÏολαμβάνονÏÎµÏ Îµá¼¶Î½Î±Î¹).149 He then learned that God is the âFather of all things, conceptual and sensibleâ (ὠλÏν ÏαÏá½´Ï Î½Î¿Î·Ïῶν Ïε αὠκαὶ αἰÏθηÏῶν) and eventually became the prototype of faith:150
And, therefore, he is the first person spoken of as believing in God (διὸ καὶ ÏιÏÏεῦÏαι λέγεÏαι Ïá¿· θεῷ ÏÏῶÏοÏ), since he first grasped a firm and unswerving conception of the truth (á¼ÎºÎ»Î¹Î½á¿ καὶ βεβαίαν á¼ÏÏεν á½ÏόληÏιν) that there is one Cause above all (á¼Î½ αἴÏιον Ïὸ á¼Î½ÏÏá½±ÏÏ), and that it provides for the world and all that there is therein. And having gained faith, the most sure and certain of the virtues (κÏηÏá½±Î¼ÎµÎ½Î¿Ï Î´á½² Ïá½·ÏÏιν, Ïὴν Ïῶν á¼ÏεÏῶν βεβαιοÏá½±Ïην), he gained with it all the other virtues (ÏÏ Î½ÎµÎºÏᾶÏο καὶ Ïá½°Ï á¼Î»Î»Î±Ï á¼Ïá½±ÏαÏ). (Philo, On the Virtues 216)
Pistis as a virtue is here explicitly linked to a cognitive acknowledgement of Godâs existence and providence,151 not as a dogmatic statement one can believe or not regardless of evidence or reason, but rather as a firm conviction (βεβαία á½ÏόληÏιÏ), looking beyond the sensible to the divine cause of all that exists.
While in this regard pistis as such is a virtue, in another sense whether it is virtuous or not is a matter of its object. Philo resumes his earlier point a little further on, namely that Abraham âput his trust (ÏιÏÏεύÏανÏα) in nothing created rather than in the Uncreated and Father of all.â152 According to Philo, this is indeed a sageâs prerogative, a task for an âOlympianâ mind:
to trust in God alone and join no other with Him is no easy matter, by reason of our kinship with our yokefellow, mortality, which works upon us to keep our trust placed in riches and repute and office and friends and health and strength and many other things. To purge away each of these, to distrust created being, which in itself is wholly unworthy of trust (á¼ÏιÏÏá¿Ïαι γενέÏει Ïá¿ ÏάνÏα á¼Î¾ á¼Î±Ï Ïá¿Ï á¼Ïá½·ÏÏῳ), to trust in God, and in Him alone, even as He alone is truly worthy of trust (μόνῳ δὲ ÏιÏÏεῦÏαι θεῷ καὶ ÏÏá½¸Ï á¼Î»á½µÎ¸ÎµÎ¹Î±Î½ μόνῳ ÏιÏÏá¿·)âthis is a task for a great and celestial understanding (Î¼ÎµÎ³á½±Î»Î·Ï ÎºÎ±á½¶ á½Î»Ï μÏá½·Î¿Ï á¼Ïγον διανοίαÏ) which has ceased to be ensnared by aught of the things that surround us. (Philo, Who Is the Heir? 93)153
This dual object of pistis, created and uncreated being, seems to be derived from the general Platonic opposition between the sensible, which is not to be trusted, and the intelligible.154 However, credit for the application of this duality to the Abrahamic faith in God needs to be given to Philo.155
According to Dennis Lindsay, it is the here-and-now utilitarianism of this dualistic faith that differentiates Philonic faith from both Old Testament and early Christian faith: âPhilonic faith is a direct link to the good things in lifeâ, whereas âfaith in Christ for the Christian mission was faith in the crossâ, by which he means faith in an eschatological blessing despite earthly misery.156 Lindsay seems to follow Bultmann here, who, in his analysis of pistis for the Theological Dictionary of the New Testament, had stated that âÏίÏÏÎ¹Ï is not to be misunderstood as though it were itself eschatological fulfilment. It is not, as in Philo, a διάθεÏÎ¹Ï of the soul.â157 This opposition between pistis as realized confidence and as a provisional and struggling category seems exaggerated. As we will see in the discussion of 2 Corinthians 3â5 (§4.4.3), Paul makes use of a similar, Platonic duality when he draws a contrast between pistis and mere earthly sight or worldly appearances (even as he never verbally contrasts faith in God to faith in sensibles). Moreover, while there certainly is an eschatological orientation in Paul, faith is particularly connected to gaining provisional knowledge of God and seeing new things in the present. Pauline faith is not only âfaith in the crossâ; it is also faith in the resurrection, an event that is not merely future-orientated.
Lindsay also considers Philoâs faith an âintellectual faith, with little or no emphasis upon personal commitmentâ and thus close to the philosophical faith of âsecular Hellenismâ.158 Again, he seems to follow Bultmann, who states that while Philo always considers God the object of faith, his concept of God is âpure beingâ emptied of âhistorical actionâ. Hence, faith is âdesecularisation in a purely negative senseâ.159 It is a virtue âwhich man develops in his own strengthâ and which is not focused on manâs relation to God, but rather âas in the Stoa, it is a relation to himself.â160 I will address this issue, the dichotomy between cognitive and relational faith, in full in the next chapter. Yet in view of the passages we just discussed, it seems unfair to consider Philoâs faith, also cast as an âutter dependenceâ, impersonal calculation rather than personal commitment.161
From the Philonic scheme in which pistis in God is opposed to pistis in mutable creation and its temporary charms, we can also understand why pistis is occasionally opposed to reasoning (λογιÏμÏÏ). While explaining by means of allegory the denunciation of Moab (Num 21.27â30), he calls the trust in God of both Abraham and Moses a âtrue teachingâ (á¼Î»Î·Î¸á½²Ï δόγμα) and juxtaposes it with âtrusting in vain reasoningsâ (Ïὸ ÏιÏÏεύειν Ïοá¿Ï κενοá¿Ï λογιÏμοá¿Ï) or in âdim reasonings and insecure conjecturesâ (Ïοá¿Ï á¼ÏαÏá½³Ïι λογιÏμοá¿Ï καὶ Ïαá¿Ï á¼Î²ÎµÎ²Î±á½·Î¿Î¹Ï εἰκαÏίαιÏ).162 It is precisely this latter type of trust that Philo deems deceptive (ÏεῦδοÏ) and irrational (á¼Î»Î¿Î³Î¿Ï), because it is opposed to reason or knowledge proper. Thus, though she comes from a different perspective, I can fully subscribe to Teresa Morganâs conclusion on Philo:
Abrahamâs relationship of pistis with God parallels an intra-human relationship closely. It is certainly not a deliberately non-rational leap into the unknown and unknowable, a cognitive-affective move unparalleled in the human sphere. (Morgan 2015, 154)
The divine stability ascribed to faith, along with its portrayal as the supreme virtue to look beyond the sensible, demonstrate that according to Philo pistis directed at God is not irrational in nature. Rather, it is rational par excellence, considering its connection to the intelligible realm.
While Philo may thus be cleared of accusations of fideism, he is often contrasted with Plato in their respective evaluations of pistis on the epistemological scale. For Philo, pistis is not so much a human level of knowledge or a first step towards more heavenly levels, but the eventual goal of religious life. Such a contrast had previously been drawn by Adolf Schlatter and Emile Brehier, yet it is often repeated in more recent scholarly contributions.163 Teresa Morgan calls Philoâs departure from Plato âa substantial one, given that Plato treats pistis as the opposite of the understanding of truthâ, and she suggests this is due to biblical roots.164 Mark Edwards puts it thus: âin contrast to Plato, who held that pistis is always bound to the phenomenon, Philo asserts that that which is, God himself, is the proper object, not of knowledge but of pistisâ.165 Finally, Jean DanieÌlou deems Philoâs concept of faith âvery originalâ: âthe term does not have the same meaning as in Plato in whom faith involves δÏξα and is opposed to knowledge.â166
I would agree with Morgan that Philoâs attention for the biblical prominence of the term necessitated giving pistis a more prominent place among the cognitive faculties. Yet, the development that took place regarding the role of pistis did not solely arise out of the need to account for the role of faith in the Septuagint; its roots can be traced back to the openness to the epistemic value of pistis which we discovered already in Plato and which was further exploited by Aristotle.167 In that sense, Philoâs usage of pistis is indeed a blend: a creative rephrasing of its abundant use in specific Septuagint passages, drawing from the broad spectrum of epistemic functions it fulfils in Platonic, Aristotelean, andâas we shall see in the next chapterâalso Stoic philosophy.168
And if I may suggest a final explanation, this development in the use of pistis was understandable in precisely the philosophical milieu Philo participated in. It was the logical consequence of the increasing tendency to ascribe complete transcendence to God, placing him above the level of ideas, principles, the one or the monad, in other words, above the level of supreme knowledge (á¼ÏιÏÏήμη). This idea of utter divine transcendence coincided with a specific sceptical approach which did not limit itself to the sensibles, but, in the words of David Runia, âhere appears also to be applied to the intelligible realmâ and âthus cuts across the Platonist division between intelligible and sense-perceptible things.â169 While Philo is optimistic about the possibility of ascertaining Godâs existence and providence, he is highly sceptical about gaining knowledge of his nature or his qualities, thus heralding âthe end of Hellenistic theologyâ.170 From this perspective, it is only reasonable that a different cognitive power is required in matters pertaining to God, one extending from the first principles to the ultimate transcendent while being neither irrational nor unwarranted. Pistis fulfils these criteria as a reasonable, trusting conviction in the trustworthy, transcendent God.
Such a discourse of transcendence and scepticism may suggest that Philoâs pistis becomes a mystical or supra-rational grasp, a blind leap of faith. As we will see in more detail in Plutarchâs works (§4.3.5), however, this is an improper way to describe the transition from the sensible to the intelligible or from the mortal to the divine as it was understood in Middle Platonism. In both Philoâs and Plutarchâs epistemology, the world as it exists is in fact caused by, dependent on, and participating in the ultimate divine reality. They share an intimate connection as original (ÏαÏάδειγμα) to copy (εἰκÏν). For Philo, the relatively minor step of trust in God is therefore a logical, rational, and necessary one.
According to Philo, even human pistis is a reflection of the divine quality pistis: a mimetic pattern I will discuss more thoroughly in chapter 6. As we have seen, human pistis is a virtue that appropriates the stability of that in which it is vested. But, as Philo explains, this faithfulness and stability is taken over only to the extent that it is an image (εἰκÏν) of the pistis of God. For even Abraham briefly did not believe in the prophecy that he was to receive a child at his age:
But perhaps it may be said, why did he, when once he had believed, admit any trace or shadow or breath of unbelief whatsoever (á½ Ïι ÏεÏιÏÏÎµÏ Îºá½¼Ï á¼´ÏÎ½Î¿Ï á¼¢ Ïκιὰν á¼¢ αá½Ïαν á¼ÏιÏÏá½·Î±Ï Î´á½³ÏεÏαι Ïὸ ÏαÏá½±Ïαν)? It seems to me that this question amounts to a wish to make out the created to be uncreated, the mortal immortal, the perishable imperishable, and if it is not blasphemy to say it, man to be God. Such a person asserts that the faith which man possesses should be so strong as to differ not at all from the faith which belongs to the Existent (Ïὴν Î³á½°Ï Ïá½·ÏÏιν, á¼§Ï á¼Î»Î±Ïεν á¼Î½Î¸ÏÏÏοÏ, οá½ÏÏ Î²á½³Î²Î±Î¹á½¹Î½ ÏηÏι δεá¿Î½ εἶναι, á½¡Ï Î¼Î·Î´á½²Î½ διαÏá½³Ïειν Ïá¿Ï ÏεÏὶ Ïὸ á½Î½), a faith sound and complete in every way. For Moses says in the Greater Song, âGod is faithful (Î¸Îµá½¸Ï ÏιÏÏá½¹Ï) and there is no injustice in Himâ (Deut 32.4), and it argues great ignorance to think that the soul of man can contain the unwavering, absolutely steadfast excellences of God (Ïá½°Ï Î¸ÎµÎ¿á¿¦ á¼ÏεÏá½°Ï Ïá½°Ï á¼ÏÏεÏεá¿Ï καὶ ÏαγιÏÏá½±ÏαÏ). Enough for man is the power to possess the images of these (Îµá¼°Îºá½¹Î½Î±Ï Î±á½Ïῶν), images in the scale of number and magnitude far below the archetypes (Ïῶν á¼ÏÏεÏá½»ÏÏν á¼Î»Î±ÏÏÎ¿Ï Î¼á½³Î½Î±Ï). (Philo, On the Change of Names 181â183)
In perfect accordance with Platonic ontology, then, human pistis stands in relation to divine pistis as image to original, imitating it and participating in it, yet never escaping mortal deficiencies. It is the object of pistis that determines its epistemic value. Pistis in sensibles, if even for a moment of doubt, renders one instable, whereas continually putting all oneâs trust in the ultimate stability of God slowly turns the believer into a sage.
Although Philo can be regarded as a sceptic whose scepticism extended to the knowability of the nature of God, it was also due to his high regard of Scripture in general and faith in a personal God in particular, that he did not submit to the sceptical Academy and their insistence on suspension of judgement.171 Especially in this nonconformity to the sceptics, Philo can be seen as foreshadowing the more dogmatic tradition of Middle Platonism, poetically imagined by Mireille Hadas-Lebel as âthe swallow announcing the forthcoming springâ.172 When we move on to Plutarch, summer has arrived in full bloom. The question is, where does that leave the epistemological status of pistis? And, eventually, how can we situate Paul amidst this discourse?
4.3.5 Plutarch: Pistis as Golden Mean between Gullible Superstition and Irrational Scepticism
Unlike the authors we have discussed so far, there is a lively discussion in scholarly literature on the specific question whether Plutarchâs use of pistis and cognates can be considered fideistic. The starting point of this discussion is the work of the French Plutarchan scholar Daniel Babut, who, taking up the views he expressed in his monograph Plutarque et le stoïcisme, claims that Plutarch came up with a new meaning of pistis, âexplicitly or implicitly opposed to λÏγοÏ, in the sense of âfaithââ.173 In this sense, pistis even surpasses true knowledge:174
Socratic ignorance, Platonic insistence on the limits of human knowledge, and the Academic theory on the suspension of judgment led him [Plutarch] to develop a new concept, that of âfaithâ (ÏίÏÏιÏ), which took on a sense completely different from what it meant before. Whereas for Plato, ÏίÏÏÎ¹Ï was a poor substitute for true knowledge, the prerogative of reason, Plutarch affirms in a famous passage of the Dialogue on Love the autonomy and even the pre-eminence of the former over the latter. (Babut 1994, 580)175
In Babutâs understanding of Plutarch, it was his Platonism, particularly the scepticism of the New Academy that prompted this completely new concept, a supra-rational and religious use of pistis.176 Together with the new notion of faith, Babut argues, Plutarch deviated from Plato in establishing the autonomy of religious belief, independent from the true knowledge of philosophy.177 However, such a portrayal of Plutarch as the inventor of some sort of fideism has rightly not gone unchallenged.
Babut builds his argument for the pre-eminence of this new type of faith on a specific passage from the Dialogue on Love (or Amatorius). In this passage, the father character Plutarch responds to the character Pemptides, who had just expressed his doubts on ErÅs being declared a god:
âPemptides,â he said, âit is, I believe, a grave and dangerous matter that you are broaching; or rather, you are altogether shaking our unshakable opinion about the gods (Ïá½° á¼Îºá½·Î½Î·Ïα κινεá¿Î½ Ïá¿Ï ÏεÏὶ θεῶν δόξηÏ) when you demand an account and proof of each of them (ÏεÏὶ á¼Îºá½±ÏÏÎ¿Ï Î»á½¹Î³Î¿Î½ á¼ÏαιÏῶν καὶ á¼Ïόδειξιν). Our ancestral ancient faith is good enough (á¼ÏÎºÎµá¿ Î³á½°Ï á¼¡ Ïá½±ÏÏÎ¹Î¿Ï ÎºÎ±á½¶ Ïαλαιὰ Ïá½·ÏÏιÏ). It is impossible to assert or discover evidence more palpable (á¼Î½Î±ÏγέÏÏεÏον), âWhatever subtle twistâs invented by keen witâ. This faith is a basis, as it were, a common foundation, of piety (αá½Ïη καὶ βάÏÎ¹Ï á½ÏεÏÏῶÏα κοινὴ ÏÏá½¸Ï Îµá½Ïέβειαν); if confidence and settled usage (Ïὸ βέβαιον αá½Ïá¿Ï καὶ νενομιÏμένον) are disturbed or shaken at a single point, the whole edifice is enfeebled and discredited.â (Plutarch, Dialogue on Love 756B)
We have already seen in chapter 2 how âfather Plutarchâsâ defence of the divinity of ErÅs comprises more than a simple appeal to the ancient pistis of his forefathers: the three ultimate sources of our knowledge on the gods, poets, legislators, and philosophers, no matter how divided they are, all explicitly agree on this issue. That is what prompts and grounds the character Plutarchâs pistis and, if we allow the author to agree with his own younger persona here, Plutarchâs pistis.178 This contextual evidence on the trifold foundation (including philosophy) of this pistis should already give anyone pause before charging Plutarch with supra-rational fideism.
Babutâs views on this matter in general and this passage on particular, however, have already been thoroughly criticized by another French specialist in Plutarch, Françoise Frazier. She gradually developed her criticism across four articles, emphasizing the objective character of Plutarchan pistis against Babutâs supra-rational, fideistic reading.179 Moreover, she has shown that the âreasonâ (λÏγοÏ) that Plutarch sets against pistis in the Dialogue on Love is not philosophical reason, as Babut maintains, but rather âthe punctilious ratiocination which pretends to call the gods to account and opens under our feet the abyss of atheism.â180 In Plutarch, she demonstrates, pistis covers the reasonable middle ground between irrational superstition and irrational atheism.
Frazierâs stance has been comprehensively summarized and, in turn, critiqued by George van Kooten, who offers a third variant reading of Plutarchan pistis as non-fideistic, but not entirely âobjectiveâ either. As he argues, it is as much at home in a philosophical environment as it is in the setting of mystery religion.181 In his reconstruction of Frazierâs argument, Van Kooten points to the underlying assumption that modern, Christian faith is fideistic, super-rational, supernatural, and subjective in nature. Thus, he argues, âFrazier maintains Babutâs fideistic definition of ÏίÏÏÎ¹Ï but applies it to Christianityâ, and in order to defend Plutarchâs rationalism, she downplays the subjective elements in Plutarch.182 Apart from emphasizing this connection of pistis to both subjective religious experiences and objective philosophical enquiry, Van Kooten discerns different levels of substantiation in Plutarchâs use of pistis: Plutarch differentiated between âmisfounded faithâ and âstrengthened faithâ, wherefore we should not label his use of pistis in general âfideisticâ.183 This differentiation in types of pistis is very much akin to Philoâs differentiation in objects of pistis, as we will see.
Rainer Hirsch-Luipold, finally, criticizes Van Kootenâs earlier article (2012) for making use of the same categories he seeks to overcome: fideistic-religious versus rational-philosophical usage.184 Both Hirsch-Luipold and Van Kooten agree, nonetheless, that the difference between both categories is not helpful for understanding Plutarch on his own termsâor Paul for that matter. According to Hirsch-Luipold, âthe religious search for God and the philosophical pursuit of truth are inseparable for Plutarchâ.185 More specifically, he argues that âancestral faithâ is an authoritative ground for Plutarchâs philosophical quest for truth, especially because humanityâs corporeal state prohibits any direct access: it is only rational to acknowledge our limitations when it comes to the divine.186 This provisionality of human knowledge of God, emphasized in Hirsch-Luipoldâs reading of Plutarchan pistis, is also perfectly in line with of Platoâs epistemology (as discussed in §4.3.2) and the role of pistis therein.
As part of my own contribution to this particular debate, I want to broaden the perspective to include the earlier contributions to this epistemic discourse of pistis in the âPlatonic traditionâ since Parmenides, to discuss some less well-known Plutarchan passages, and to readdress Babutâs position on the influence of the contemporary philosophical landscape, particularly the challenge of Academic scepticism. Together, these insights confirm the thesis that Plutarchâs usage of pistis must be seen as part of a cognitive-religious or philosophical-religious discourse. The increase in pistis usage by Plutarch as compared to other authors within this discourse, so I will argue, is due to its capacity to express a moderately positivist stance on the possibility of attaining divine truth.
To start with the influence of the sceptical movement in Platoâs Academy, the question is whether their challenge to a positive epistemology did in fact cause Plutarch to opt for supra-rational fideism. In the first place, over the past decades the image of the New Academy has undergone a major change, such that it can no longer be considered âscepticalâ in any significant, modern sense of the word. By taking the polemical context of the source material and the dialectical approach of the Academics into account, their position has been found to be much more open to the possibility of knowledge and truth than was suggested by nineteenth-century scholarship in the footsteps of Eduard Zeller.187 Rather than taking on religion, morality, or objectivity, the Academics attacked certain Stoic and Epicurean dogmata. The sharp contrast between sceptics and dogmatists as such was constructed in post-Hellenistic times, and the terms were given their technical meaning by Sextus Empiricus (late second to early third century ad). This insight considerably alters our understanding of the intellectual landscape that Plutarch entered, and while I will continue to use the conventional terms âscepticalâ and âdogmaticâ in this study for lack of better descriptions, it is good to emphasize the actual subtle and relative differences in the ancient context.188
The Platonists of Plutarchâs day took different approaches to the sceptical current in their tradition, with Arcesilaus and Carneades as its most famous representatives. While some, such as Numenius, chose to distance themselves from the more sceptical among Platoâs successors, others, including Plutarch, tried to keep the peace, as is evidenced by Plutarchâs lost work On the Unity of the Academy since Plato (Lamprias catalogue nr. 63). Plutarch himself is generally thought to have embraced a middle-position by advocating a âpositive, if undogmatic, philosophical systemâ and being a sceptic, yet âin a rather weak senseâ.189 How should these characterisations be understood and what implications do they have for Plutarchâs use of pistis?
In an earlier article of mine (2015a), I explored Plutarchâs epistemology in order to determine whether and, if so, how he thought it was possible to gain true knowledge based on natural phenomena, to journey from the sensible realm to the metaphysical. I established that even as he shares Platoâs strong separation between sensible objects and faculties and intellectual objects and faculties, and despite his overall distrust in the senses, he did remain open to the possibility of transcending their domain, based on his confidence in human intellection and philosophy. It is precisely in the conclusion of his discussion of the lengths of Platoâs divided line, the analogy that assigns such specific objects to different cognitive faculties, that he emphasizes the ability of the human intellect to reach the divine level via sensible objects:
But furthermore it is not right of them to be disdainful even of the intelligible and intellectual faculty in us men (á¼Î½ ἡμá¿Î½ νοηÏá¿Ï καὶ νοεÏá¾¶Ï Î´Ï Î½á½±Î¼ÎµÏÏ ÎºÎ±ÏαÏÏονοῦÏιν), for because it is ample and stout it transcends all that is perceptible (ÏεÏίεÏÏι ÏανÏá½¸Ï Ïοῦ αἰÏθηÏοῦ) and reaches as far as things divine (μέÏÏι Ïῶν θείÏν á¼Î¾Î¹ÎºÎ½Îµá¿Ïαι). The most important point, however, is that, when in the Symposium Plato explains how one must manage the matter of love by diverting the soul from the beautiful objects that are perceptible to those that are intelligible (μεÏάγονÏα Ïὴν ÏÏ Ïὴν á¼Ïὸ Ïῶν αἰÏθηÏῶν καλῶν á¼Ïὶ Ïá½° νοηÏá½±), his own injunction is not to subjugate oneself and play the slave to the beauty of a particular body or practice or of a single science but to desist from petty concern about these things and turn to the vast sea of the beautiful. (Plutarch, Platonic Questions 3, 1002E)
Plutarchâs employment of the imagery of the Symposium is appropriate here.190 It draws on a basic ontological pattern underlying his epistemology. Elsewhere, he used several different expressions to emphasize the connection between the intelligible, metaphysical and the sensible, physical world:
The relation of the partaken in to the partaker is that of cause to matter, model to copy, power to effect (á½Î½ αἰÏία Ïε ÏÏá½¸Ï á½Î»Î·Î½ á¼Ïει καὶ ÏαÏάδειγμα ÏÏá½¸Ï Îµá¼°Îºá½¹Î½Î± καὶ Î´á½»Î½Î±Î¼Î¹Ï ÏÏá½¸Ï ÏάθοÏ). And it is chiefly by this relation that the absolute and always identical differs from what is caused by something else and is never in the same state. (Plutarch, Reply to Colotes 1115E)191
Both worlds, then, are ontologically related: the one is âbeingâ proper, the other is caused by, modelled after and partaking in âbeingâ.192 And, reversely, the philosopher can journey from the one to the other, by studying the higher causes behind earthly matter, the model behind earthly examples, the powers behind earthly effects. The metaphor of a journey is actually used by Plutarch, for he states that
when the natural philosopher sets out to find the truth as a matter of speculative knowledge (Ïá¿· δὲ ÏÏ Ïικῷ θεÏÏá½·Î±Ï á¼Î½ÎµÎºÎ± μεÏιόνÏι Ïá¼Î»Î·Î¸á½²Ï), the discovery of immediate causes is not the end, but the beginning of his journey to the first and highest causes (á¼ÏÏá½´ Ïá¿Ï á¼Ïὶ Ïá½° ÏÏῶÏα καὶ á¼Î½ÏÏá½±ÏÏ ÏοÏείαÏ). (Plutarch, On the Principle of Cold 948C)
His emphasis on this goal implies at least the theoretical possibility of attaining it, even if the process could take time.
In different treatises, we learn more about how he values these different causes. Contemporary physicists âascribe everything to bodies and their behaviourâ and neglect the higher cause, whereas poets and religious writers of old ascribed everything to Zeus as the highest cause and âmade no approach towards the compelling and natural causes (Ïαá¿Ï δ᾿ á¼Î½Î±Î³ÎºÎ±á½·Î±Î¹Ï καὶ ÏÏ Ïικαá¿Ï οá½Îº á¼Ïι ÏÏοÏá¿ÎµÏαν αἰÏίαιÏ)â.193 Instead, one ought to heed both. He then connects the two causes to what seems like a variant of the four Aristotelean causae we also find in Philo. He names the divine cause both the causa finalis and the causa efficiens (Ïὸ δι᾿ οὠκαὶ á½Ïâ οá½) and equates the physical cause to the causa materialis and the causa instrumentalis (Ïὸ á¼Î¾ ὧν καὶ δι᾿ ὧν).194 There is no opposition between religion and science here; the philosopher transcends the physical cause(s) to reach the metaphysical one(s).
In Plutarchâs universe, God and the entire noetic world are brought together into one, transcendent cause, both paradigmatic and efficient, which simplifies the layered structure of earlier Platonists.195 In To an Uneducated Ruler (Ad principem ineruditem), this transcendence of God, as completely set apart from the changing matter, is immediately connected by Plutarch to the visible images of God. The sun and the justice and knowledge of him in the ruler reflect the beauty of God, and these images are meant to lead people to imitate God with the help of philosophy:
For it is neither probable nor fitting that god is, as some philosophers say, mingled with matter, which is altogether passive, and with things, which are subject to countless necessities, chances, and changes. On the contrary, somewhere up above in contact with that nature which, in accordance with the same principles, remains always as it is, established, as Plato says, upon pedestals of holiness, proceeding in accordance with nature in his straight course, he reaches his goal. And as the sun, his most beautiful image (μίμημα Ïὸ ÏεÏÎ¹ÎºÎ±Î»Î»á½²Ï Î±á½Ïοῦ), appears in the heavens as his mirrored likeness to those who are able to see him in it (δι᾿ á¼Ïá½¹ÏÏÏÎ¿Ï Îµá¼´Î´Ïλον á¼Î½Î±ÏαίνεÏαι Ïοá¿Ï á¼ÎºÎµá¿Î½Î¿Î½ á¼Î½Î¿Ïᾶν δι᾿ αá½Ïοῦ Î´Ï Î½Î±Ïοá¿Ï), just so he has established in states the light of justice and of knowledge of himself (Ïὸ á¼Î½ ÏόλεÏι Ïá½³Î³Î³Î¿Ï Îµá½Î´Î¹Îºá½·Î±Ï καὶ Î»á½¹Î³Î¿Ï Ïοῦ ÏεÏὶ αá½Ïὸν) as an image (á½¥ÏÏÎµÏ Îµá¼°Îºá½¹Î½Î±) which the blessed and the wise copy (á¼ÏογÏá½±ÏονÏαι) with the help of philosophy, modelling themselves after the most beautiful of all things. But nothing implants this disposition in men except the teachings of philosophy (ÏαύÏην δ᾿ οá½Î´á½²Î½ á¼Î¼ÏοιεῠÏὴν διάθεÏιν á¼¢ Î»á½¹Î³Î¿Ï á¼Îº ÏιλοÏοÏá½·Î±Ï ÏαÏαγενόμενοÏ). (Plutarch, To an Uneducated Ruler 781Fâ782A)
We see here an excellent example of how Plutarchâs ontology, cosmology, theology, epistemology, and ethics are intertwined. The distance that separates humans from the holiness of God is immediately bridged by the existence of earthly images of God and the possibility of ethical assimilation to God.196 The metaphor of reflection in a mirror, used to explain the relationship between the divine and visible images of the divine, is something we will come back to, as it is also used by Paul in the context of epistemology and ethics (see §4.4.3 and §4.4.4 below).
It might seem farfetched to involve Plutarchâs whole epistemology in evaluating his usage of pistis. Indeed, apart from the recapitulation of Platoâs divided line, pistis does not have any particular epistemological role in these more technical passages. Yet this more elaborate treatment shows the limited extent to which he succumbed to epistemological scepticism and whatever need he might have felt to turn to new concepts or a new vocabulary, as Babut suggested.
So far, we have seen Plutarchâs positive approach to gaining true knowledge. But even where he seems more Academic or sceptical in his approach, his Platonism or dogmatism is not far behind. In the words of Jan Opsomer, throughout his works, âPlutarch makes an honest effort to combine harmoniously Platonic with âAcademicâ themes.â197 When the stability of the sensible world is sharply questioned, as in Ammoniusâs speech in the On the Î at Delphi, it is reasonable to take hermeneutical caveats into account such as the difference between persona and author and the rhetorical aim of the speech, which is to emphasize that God is an unchanging being.198 Plutarch himself unproblematically included sceptical methods into formulating positive dogmata. In On Stoic Self-Contradictions (De Stoicorum repugnantiis) he considers the sceptical approach of arguing both sides of a question in positive terms as a method that leads to apprehension of the truth.199 Even the suggestion to turn to epochÄ, suspension of judgement, at the end of the On the Principle of Cold (De primo frigido) can be read either as awareness that âa purely physical explanation of the world can never suffice for the true philosopherâ, since âthe final explanation is always of a metaphysical natureâ.200 Furthermore, as George Boys-Stones has demonstrated, even in those works that are usually considered his most sceptical, such as On Stoic Self-Contradictions, he âfelt himself able to draw positive conclusions from his Scepticismâ, wherefore these works âcan and should still be read as vehicles for an expression of his Platonism.â201 This Platonism was not fideistic, yet, as I have shown, it was building on Platoâs own epistemological route from the sensible to the intelligible, from the human to the divine.202
We may now ask how this affects our reading of Plutarchâs usage of pistis and whether it can be seen in line with or in contrast to the earlier Platonic tradition. There is an obvious increase in both Philo and Plutarch in relating pistis vocabulary to the divine. It is dubious, however, whether there was any concrete direct or indirect (namely via Ammonius or Eudorus) contact between both authors; rather, they share in a common tradition.203 What stands out in Plutarch is that pistis receives a seemingly fideistic colouring in those contexts where the transcendence of the divine is emphasized. In this respect, we see an effect similar to Philoâs usage of pistis: if God is equated with (or even seen as being above) the level of intelligibles, one cannot simply know or understand his powers or workings in this world, for they are mediated through the untrustworthy senses.
On the other hand, in both authors, God represents more than an abstract principle: in both Philo and Plutarch, God is depicted with a number of personal features.204 In dealing with the world, he is both separate (as opposed to Stoic immanentism) and personally involved (as opposed to both Aristotelean and Epicurean abstractions).205 According to an insightful article that compares their respective theologies, it is due to the allegorical method they both employ that Philoâs Jewish God becomes more transcendent, whereas Plutarchâs Academic God becomes more personal and historical.206Pistis can address both aspects of their transcendent-yet-personal God. While speaking of simply âknowingâ God would not acknowledge the distance, the personal aspect renders it highly appropriate to express epistemological-relational trust in God. As a further survey of some relevant passages will show, this was indeed seen as the most reasonable option by Plutarch.
The âreasonâ behind Plutarchâs usage of pistis is especially evident in contexts where he explicitly discusses the ideal attitude towards the divine. In On Superstition (De superstitione), the use of pistis language is sometimes viewed as taking on a fideistic flavour, since it is contrasted with atheism and associated with the superstitious person that fears the gods.207 Atheism, on the other hand, is described as ignorance-engendered distrust (apistia) in the helpful qualities of God.208 Hence, pistis is associated with knowledge of God and with trust in divine providence. It is true that, conversely, the superstitious person is said to âbelieveâ in the gods; however, the question is whether Plutarch would thus consider superstition and pistis equivalents. There seem to be two types of pistis in play, âbeliefâ that coincides with fear and âtrustâ that coincides with positive expectations of the godsâ benevolence. For the superstitious person does not completely trust the gods at all; s/he thinks that they are âuntrustworthyâ (á¼ÏιÏÏοÏ):
You see what kind of thoughts the superstitious have about the gods; they assume that the gods are rash, faithless (á¼Ïá½·ÏÏÎ¿Ï Ï), fickle, vengeful, cruel, and easily offended; and, as a result, the superstitious man is bound to hate and fear the gods. (Plutarch, On Superstition 170E)
This way, superstition founds and grounds atheism.209 Thus, especially if you do not place your trust in the trustworthiness of God, you lapse into the abysses of either atheism (disbelief in the existence and distrust of the providence of the Deity) or superstition (belief in the existence of the Deity but distrust of the providence of the Deity). In the first case, there is too little preoccupation with the gods, in the second to much. Concerning the divine, true pistis is the golden mean of reasonable trust in divine providence (cf. §8.3.3 below on apistia and the social-religious aspects of this discourse).
This is a consistent Plutarchan approach to pistis in religious contexts, confirmed by different dialogues. If a god behaves differently from how humans would expect, for instance when the Delphic oracles stopped being pronounced in verse which threatened their pistis (trustworthiness), Plutarch argues that we should first examine our own reasoning (logismos) and not blame the god (like the superstitious person) or simply give up (like the atheist would).210 This is no abandonment of reason, but a condemnation of intellectual laziness and at the same time an acknowledgement of intellectual shortcomings.211 Furthermore, in That Epicurus Actually Makes a Pleasant Life Impossible (Non posse suaviter vivi secundum Epicurum), we learn that only when pistis is âcuredâ from superstitious fear is it considered the ideal attitude:
Now we should, I grant you, remove superstition from our belief in the gods (Ïá¿Ï ÏεÏὶ θεῶν δÏÎ¾Î·Ï (â¦) á¼ÏαιÏεá¿Î½ Ïὴν δειÏιδαιμονίαν) like a rheum from the eye; but if this proves impossible, we should not cut away both together and kill the faith that most men have in the gods (μὴ ÏÏ Î½ÎµÎºÎºÏÏÏειν μηδὲ ÏÏ Ïλοῦν Ïὴν ÏίÏÏιν, ἣν οἱ Ïλεá¿ÏÏοι ÏεÏὶ θεῶν á¼ÏÎ¿Ï Ïιν). (Plutarch, That Epicurus Actually Makes a Pleasant Life Impossible 1101C)
There is a characteristic leniency here towards the peopleâs religious needs: not everyone can take a philosopherâs perspective regarding the divine, not everyone is well-suited for reasonable trust in the gods.
A similar leniency recurs, for example, in an interesting passage that has to my knowledge not yet been cited in this debate on Plutarchan pistis, from the final section of the biography of Coriolanus. The topic is the reported miracle of a bleeding and talking statue, dedicated to Fortuna Muliebris to honour Coriolanusâs mother after she convinced her son to stop the Volscian attack on Rome. Plutarch finds it hard to believe this miracle, though he believes that the deity might make use of it as a sign (the verbs used here are ÏÎµÎ¯Î¸Ï and δοκÎÏ). He explains possible natural causes of such sights and noises and mentions the possibility that, if we must accept the accounts because of the ânumerous and credible (Ïιθανοá¿Ï) witnessesâ, it may be a matter of a dreamlike illusion. There nevertheless follows an interesting allowance for belief in this phenomenon, based on the ground (he uses the noun ÏίÏÏÎ¹Ï for âground/argumentâ) of the transcendence and unknowability of God:
However, those who cherish strong feelings of good will and affection for the Deity, and are therefore unable to reject or deny anything of this kind, have a strong argument for their faith in the wonderful and transcendent character of the divine power (μέγα ÏÏá½¸Ï Ïá½·ÏÏιν á¼ÏÏὶ Ïὸ Î¸Î±Ï Î¼á½±Ïιον καὶ μὴ καθ᾿ á¼¡Î¼á¾¶Ï Ïá¿Ï Ïοῦ θεοῦ Î´Ï Î½á½±Î¼ÎµÏÏ). For the Deity has no resemblance whatever to man, either in nature, activity, skill, or strength; nor, if He does something that we cannot do, or contrives something that we cannot contrive, is this contrary to reason (ÏαÏάλογόν á¼ÏÏιν); but rather, since He differs from us in all points, in His works most of all is He unlike us and far removed from us. But most o[f] the Deityâs powers, as Heraclitus says, âescape our knowledge through incredulity (á¼ÏιÏÏίῠδιαÏÏ Î³Î³á½±Î½ÎµÎ¹ μὴ γινώÏκεÏθαι).â (Plutarch, Marcius Coriolanus 38.3â4)
We have already taken a close look at Heraclitusâs saying (see §4.3.1 above). What interests me here is how Plutarch explicitly rejects the idea that divine transcendence (Godâs not being like us) implies that incredible divine action is contrary to reason. Pistis does not replace knowledge in case of a miracle; it is rather a lack of pistis that renders divine powers unknowable.
This is a very balanced approach, yet when it comes to miracles, Plutarch has been accused of âa genuine unwillingness to think through his difficultiesâ:
In Plutarch we find no solution for the problem of miracle. His caution in such matters does not reflect a naive piety but a genuine unwillingness to think through his difficulties. His middle ground, ânothing too muchâ, is an indication that he cannot face the real contradiction between traditional religion and natural science and philosophy. He solves the contradiction for himself by disregarding it. (Grant 1952, 68)212
It is, however, not indecisiveness or disregard, but rather a positive choice to embrace both natural science and traditional religion and to avoid both radical religious scepticism and radical religious gullibility. In a very similar passage, when it is a statue of Juno that had allegedly spoken to give permission for her relocation to Rome, we indeed find a consideration that sounds a lot like what we encountered in On Superstition: both too much pisteuein and too much apistein are equally due to human weakness and equally risky:
But in such matters eager credulity and excessive incredulity (καὶ Ïὸ ÏιÏÏεύειν ÏÏόδÏα καὶ Ïὸ λίαν á¼ÏιÏÏεá¿Î½) are alike dangerous, because of the weakness of our human nature, which sets no limits and has no mastery over itself, but is carried away now into vain superstition, and now into contemptuous neglect of the gods (á½ ÏÎ¿Ï Î¼á½²Î½ Îµá¼°Ï Î´ÎµÎ¹Ïιδαιμονίαν καὶ ÏῦÏον, á½ ÏÎ¿Ï Î´á¾¿ Îµá¼°Ï á½Î»Î¹Î³ÏÏίαν Ïῶν θεῶν καὶ ÏεÏιÏÏόνηÏιν). Caution is best, and to go to no extremes (ἡ δ᾿ εá½Î»á½±Î²ÎµÎ¹Î± καὶ Ïὸ μηδὲν á¼Î³Î±Î½ á¼ÏιÏÏον). (Plutarch, Camillus 6.4)
So even though one can have too much of pistis, such that it turns into credulity, or too little, such that it becomes religious neglect, the thrust of Plutarchâs argument throughout different treatises is that belief and trust in divine interference is rational and sound.
Returning to Babutâs initial critique of super-rationalism, if Plutarch chooses to rely on ancestral faith as he did in The Dialogue on Love, he is not offering some kind of shortcut or detour around the ordinary rational and intellectual route. He did embrace the authority of the combined voices of respected lawgivers, poets, and philosophers. Few would not do so in his day, and indeed, philosophy itself developed in a direction in which fresh interpretations and creative applications of an authoritative tradition took the place of giving birth to new ideas more or less independently from a textual âestablishmentâ.213 His appeal to pistis in this instance is a sign of his own intellectual modesty and respect for the intellectual work of others, not an audacious leap of faith or a supra-rational truth-claim. In general, in the works of Plutarch, we see that pistis vocabulary is used in âreligiousâ contexts to do justice to both the unknowability of the absolute transcendent (which the superstitious deny) and the knowability of the just and interfering Deity (which the atheists deny). Faith is the golden mean of reasonable trust in a God, whose appearance in Middle Platonism had become both more elusive and more personal. This cognitive-religious colouring of pistis in Middle Platonism provides an excellent guide for understanding several passages from the Pauline letters.214
4.4 Pistis as Firm but Provisional Knowledge of God in Paulâs Letters
Until now, this chapter has mainly been concerned with refuting or, rather, qualifying the claim that in the pagan context of early Christianity, pistis was considered knowledge of poor quality or not even knowledge at all. In the previous section, we have seen how it would do more justice to our extant sources in the Platonic tradition to describe its role in epistemological matters as a highly versatile category, usually representing a secure and stable type of knowledge or epistemological attitude. In the Hellenistic-Roman period, it came to be seen as a human cognitive category that was able to bridge the gap to the divine and intelligible realm.
The argument one might expected in the final sections would then involve a rehabilitation of Pauline pistis: âfaithâ would turn out to communicate precisely such grounded, highly valued knowledge. However, that is only part of the story. Whereas faith and faithfulness occupies a central place in Paulâs message, it is not without its ontological, ethical, and temporal limits. This section explores different passages across the (undisputed) Pauline letters in which pistis functions within a cognitive semantic field. In this way, texts that are otherwise unrelated reveal coherence in Pauline thought that may else go unnoticed. At the same time, this approach will demonstrate flexibility in the usage of pistis including both provisional and more resolute aspects, similar to what we have seen in pagan literature.
4.4.1 Abraham Grew Strong in His Pistis (Rom 4.19): Human Stability and Growth of Conviction and Faithfulness
Given the many admonitions and thanksgivings referring to it, the strength or firmness of the pistis of his addressees is of continuous concern to Paul. It is the one thing he appears to be most interested in when asking after the well-being of the communities he founded and visited (Phil 1.27; 1 Thes 3.5â6). This concern for the stability of pistis seems to indicate that pistis can also be very much a human, cognitive attitude in its Pauline usage. How rational is this human, mental capacity, and how does it relate to the cosmic (chapters 2â3), behavioural (6), and relational (chapters 7â8) semantic domains?
Let us begin with some general observations about this cognitive pistis language across the Pauline letters. There is a curious Pauline construction that does not occur in any available non-Christian Greek sources yet finds a parallel in Philo (see §4.3.4 above) to denote a firmness or stability in faith(fullness), namely by combining pistis with the verb âto standâ (ÏÏήκÏ).215 This combination may well be due to their connection to the Hebrew stem ×××, the stem that is so often translated in the Septuagint by means of the pistis lexicon. There is some wordplay with this stem in Isaiah 7.9, for instance: âIf you do not stand firm in faith, you shall not stand at allâ, which the Septuagint renders with a cognitive expression as âIf you do not believe (καὶ á¼á½°Î½ μὴ ÏιÏÏεύÏηÏε), neither shall you understand (οá½Î´á½² μὴ ÏÏ Î½Î¹á¿Ïε)â.216 In the final section of 1 Corinthians, it occurs in an enumeration of imperatives: âKeep alert, stand firm in faith (ÏÏήκεÏε á¼Î½ Ïá¿ ÏίÏÏει), be courageous, be strongâ (1 Cor 16.13). But it is also used in declarative statements, such as âbut you stand through faithâ (Rom 11.20: Ïὺ δὲ Ïá¿ ÏίÏÏει á¼ÏÏηκαÏ) or âfor you stand firm in faithâ (2 Cor 1.24: Ïá¿ Î³á½°Ï ÏίÏÏει á¼ÏÏήκαÏε). Standing firm in or by faith seems to have a paradigmatic relation to standing âin the Lordâ (1 Thes 3.8: á¼á½°Î½ á½Î¼Îµá¿Ï ÏÏήκεÏε á¼Î½ ÎºÏ Ïίῳ, cf. Col 2.5): the expressions can be used interchangeably.
The vocabulary involved suggests that pistis is something in relation to which a community cannot only stand but also be strengthened or encouraged (1 Thes 3.2: Ïὸ ÏÏηÏίξαι á½Î¼á¾¶Ï καὶ ÏαÏακαλÎÏαι á½Ïá½²Ï Ïá¿Ï ÏίÏÏεÏÏ á½Î¼á¿¶Î½), excel (2 Cor 8.7: á¼Î½ ÏανÏὶ ÏεÏιÏÏεÏεÏε, ÏίÏÏει καὶ λÏγῳ καὶ γνÏÏει), and increase or grow (Phil 1.25: ÏÏοκοÏὴν (â¦) Ïá¿Ï ÏίÏÏεÏÏ;217 2 Cor 10.15: αá½Î¾Î±Î½Î¿Î¼ÎÎ½Î·Ï Ïá¿Ï ÏίÏÏεÏÏ á½Î¼á¿¶Î½). Even more specifically, pistis is something that can be perfected when lacking (1 Thes 3.10: καÏαÏÏίÏαι Ïá½° á½ÏÏεÏήμαÏα Ïá¿Ï ÏίÏÏεÏÏ á½Î¼á¿¶Î½). We may also compare the thanksgiving section of what has come to be known as the second (probably deutero-Pauline) letter to the Thessalonians:
We must always give thanks to God for you, brothers and sisters, as is right, because your faith is growing abundantly (á½ÏεÏÎ±Ï Î¾Î¬Î½ÎµÎ¹ ἡ ÏίÏÏÎ¹Ï á½Î¼á¿¶Î½), and the love of every one of you for one another is increasing. Therefore we ourselves boast of you among the churches of God for your steadfastness and faith (á½Ïá½²Ï Ïá¿Ï á½Ïομονá¿Ï á½Î¼á¿¶Î½ καὶ ÏίÏÏεÏÏ) during all your persecutions and the afflictions (á¼Î½ ÏᾶÏιν Ïοá¿Ï διÏγμοá¿Ï á½Î¼á¿¶Î½ καὶ Ïαá¿Ï θλίÏεÏιν) that you are enduring. (2 Thessalonians 1.3â4)
Here, faith is closely related to steadfastness, capable of growth, and particularly evident during troubled times. Through its capacity to reach out above human circumstances and draw strength from a relationship with a stable God, pistis is able to offer stability to the addressees.
This emphasis on standing, strengthening, and perfecting faith shows that the mentality of faith comes in degrees, not in a binary on-or-off setting or in a âonce-in-a-cosmic-lifetimeâ revelation like the faith-discourses we encountered in the previous chapters. The characteristics and dynamics that render it a typically human state of mind come to the fore in light of the discourse discussed in these chapters on the pistis mentality.
This vocabulary of increase and decrease in pistis is very similar to the manner in which contemporary philosophical sources speak of the process of attaining virtue. Here too, especially in Stoic thought, there is something of a paradox, as on the one hand, one who has any virtue has them all, and on the other, progress in virtue is possible.218 We already established that pistis itself was seen as a prelude to virtue by Aristotle and as the virtue par excellence by Philo. In the next two chapters, sources from even more philosophical traditions will confirm that pistis and fides language is perfectly at home in the context of striving for perfection. The Stoic philosopher Lucius Annaeus Seneca, for instance, describes this effort as one of continuous movement, going forth while there is endurance, but falling back as soon as zealous and faithful striving diminishes:
That which is short of perfection must necessarily be unsteady, at one time progressing, at another slipping or growing faint; and it will surely slip back unless it keeps struggling ahead (nisi ire et niti perseveraverint); for if a man slackens at all in zeal and faithful application (ex studio et fideli intentione), he must retrograde. (Seneca, Epistles 71.35)
Seneca defines virtue in the same letter as âa true and never-swerving judgementâ (iudicium verum et inmotum).219 Whereas for Paul, pistis comprises more than true judgement per se, it is sometimes connected to a verb of judging or distinguishing (Rom 4.20: διακÏίνÏ) and his emphasis on the aim of stability perfectly fits the language belonging to this topos of moral perfection.220Pistis in this context is very much a human virtue capable of growth, closely related to steadfastness, stability, and endurance.
As a survey of the pistis vocabulary in the undisputed letters demonstrates, the reverse of a stable kind of pistis is also possible, since firmness of faith(fullness) is threatened by testing/tempting (1 Thes 3.5: ÏειÏάζÏ) or tribulation (1 Thes 3.3: θλá¿ÏιÏ) and may be weakened by distrust (Rom 4.20; Rom 11.20). Distrust or faithlessness (á¼ÏιÏÏία) as a noun occurs four times and only in Romans. Three times the noun is used in reference to certain Jews in their relationship with God: their apistia, (Rom 3.3: ἡ á¼ÏιÏÏία αá½Ïῶν), âdistrustâ, will not revoke the divine faithfulness (Ïὴν ÏίÏÏιν Ïοῦ θεοῦ); they may be broken off because of their apistia (Rom 11.20: Ïá¿ á¼ÏιÏÏίᾳ á¼Î¾ÎµÎºÎ»Î¬ÏθηÏαν); and they may stay or persist in it (Rom 11.23: á¼ÏιμÎνÏÏι Ïá¿ á¼ÏιÏÏίᾳ). In these three instances, apistia seems to belong to a social semantic domainâa field I address more fully in chapter 7 and 8 (esp. §8.4.1 on apistia in Romans). It indicates a breach of trust. The adjective apistoi is more common, yet it is only used in 1 and 2 Corinthians and even then as a designation of people: on this usage, I will also elaborate in chapter 8 (§§8.4.2â4).
That said, one instance of the noun apistia (Rom 4.20) seems to be particularly âcognitiveâ or âpsychologicalâ in nature, as it relates to Abraham and his attitude towards Godâs promise. Here, the noun apistia is used as the opposite of having a firm mental disposition of pistis:
Hoping against hope, he trusted that (á¼ÏίÏÏÎµÏ Ïεν εἰÏ) he would become âthe father of many nationsâ, according to what was said, âSo numerous shall your descendants be.â He did not weaken in trust (μὴ á¼ÏθενήÏÎ±Ï Ïá¿ ÏίÏÏει) when he considered his own body, which was already as good as dead (for he was about a hundred years old), or when he considered the barrenness of Sarahâs womb. He did not contest the promise of God out of disloyalty (Îµá¼°Ï Î´á½² Ïὴν á¼Ïαγγελίαν Ïοῦ θεοῦ οὠδιεκÏίθη Ïá¿ á¼ÏιÏÏίᾳ), but he grew strong in his loyalty (á¼Î½ÎµÎ´Ï ναμÏθη Ïá¿ ÏίÏÏει) as he gave glory to God, being fully convinced (ÏληÏοÏοÏηθεὶÏ) that God was able to do what he had promised. (Romans 4.18â21)
This section of the letter (Romans 4), often deemed crucial for understanding Paulâs pistis language, will return briefly in our discussions about individuality versus communality in faith (see §6.4.2) and extensively when it concerns the nexus of faith, grace, promises, works, and law (see §7.4.4). Paulâs main purpose seems to be to explain his thesis about how one is made righteous outside the sphere of the law through an exegesis of Abraham, who âtrusted God, and it was reckoned to him as righteousnessâ (Rom 4.3: á¼Ïá½·ÏÏÎµÏ Ïεν; see Gen 15.6).221 As Paul develops his interpretation of Abrahamâs story in Genesis, he employs a wider range of pistis language. Pistis in the passage quoted appears to be a mental conviction regarding the truth of a divine promise and is thereby a mental judgement on the trustworthiness of God. Abraham âgrew strongâ (4.20: á¼Î½ÎµÎ´Ï ναμÏθη) with respect to his pistis,222 which developed into a strong conviction (4.21: ÏληÏοÏοÏηθεὶÏ) and is explicitly contrasted with apistia, indicating some form of distrust or a lack of faith (4.20).
From the perspective of this chapter, i.e. the Platonic discourse on pistis as a category of knowledge, what is remarkable about this passage is indeed this cognitive approach to faith. At the same time, pistis in this context seems not only to be cognitive in nature; it also seems to be a rather gullible or irrational attitude on Abrahamâs part: it is faith in the face of sensible evidence to the contrary in the form of their âas good as deadâ bodies. As the critics mentioned in the introduction to this chapter would argue, this text confirms that Paulâs Abrahamic faith is irrational or blind. Yet, is it indeed a type of âblindnessâ that prompts Abraham to âbecome more powerfulâ (4.21: á¼Î½ÎµÎ´Ï ναμÏθη) regarding pistis?
Here, a comparison with Philoâs insights into Abrahamâs story in Genesis, as we discussed above (§4.3.4), is helpful. In Philoâs interpretation of Abrahamâs pistis, we have seen how it was praised precisely for being directed towards what is eternal and divine, instead of towards instable and temporary worldly sensibles. Paulâs thinking appears to be driven by similar contrasts here, as is evidenced by his addition about how Abrahamâs pistis is directed towards God (Rom 4.17: οὠá¼ÏίÏÏÎµÏ Ïεν θεοῦ), who not only can create life out of death but also âcalls into existence the things that do not existâ (καλοῦνÏÎ¿Ï Ïá½° μὴ á½Î½Ïα á½¡Ï á½Î½Ïα).223 This rather abstract characterization indicates that for Paul, to trust God is to trust being over non-being, intelligibles over sensibles, as all being originates from God (cf. 1 Cor 8.6). The internal logic of this passage indicates that far from being âblindâ, Abrahamâs trust is focused on what âISââwhat is actual, real, and stable, and hence trustworthy as it stems from the ultimate source of stability and faithfulness. Read in this light, Abrahamâs pistis was not deemed strong by Paul because of its irrationality, but rather it was strong in spite of the naturally impossible circumstances, as it was focused on what âISâ, on true knowledge, an attitude which testifies to Abrahamâs philosophical disposition. Our modern faith in sensibles thus threatens to interfere with our reading of ancient sources with their high regard of intelligibles, resulting in the anachronistic stigma of irrationality being applied to ancient philosophical idealism.
On the other hand, Paul recognizes that Abrahamâs pistis is still a human virtue and therefore imperfect, for if Abraham would not have experienced any uncertainty this would have amounted to him being divine, which is, Philo also argues, a blasphemous suggestion (see On the Change of Names 181â183). Concerning this human factor, Philo seems to do more justice than Paul to the episode of Genesis 16, where Abraham agrees to lay with Hagar as substitute for Sarai.224 Still, the imperfection of human pistis is evident from Paulâs language of growth: as inner disposition or virtue, it must be nurtured in order to grow, for it is in continuous danger of becoming weaker instead of stronger. Abrahamâs pistis was a faith that gradually grew inside him, and through this it transformed his character, his status in Godâs eyes, and, ultimately, his circumstances as well. The faith of Abraham that was reckoned as righteousness was, according to Paul, a tested and matured trust in the divine reality that remained unshaken as the decades past.225
Particularly in Paulâs passages on Abraham, it becomes evident that even though the sense of a mental attitude (resulting in virtuous actions) is absolutely present here (cf. chapters 5 and 6 below as well), it cannot be easily set apart from the semantic domain of pistis as relational trust, allegiance, and loyalty (as foregrounded in chapters 7 and 8 below). Unfortunately, especially in context of the pistis Christou debate (on which see chapter 6 below), the meanings of faithfulness and faith, trustworthiness and trust are often played off against each other: âit is not Abrahamâs obedience/faithfulness that is in view, since there is no command to follow at this point.â226 This judgement seems to take faithfulness in a very narrow sense; obviously one can be loyal in a relationship without following specific orders. In fact, the active trust of Abraham is not only an expression of his personal allegiance to God; it also enables the establishment of a long-term covenant, a relationship of mutual allegiance between God and the line of Abraham.227 In light of the relational markers in the direct context, it makes perfect sense to read the verb diakrinesthai (Rom 4.20: διακÏίνεÏθαι) not internally and cognitively as âhesitateâ, âdoubtâ, or âwaverââthis sense is not attested prior to the New Testamentâbut relationally as âdisputeâ.228 Abrahamâs ability to see beyond bodily appearances towards the promise of God, his pistis in the sense of an internal cognitive mode directed at the divine, was what enabled him to honour this relationship and remain âexternallyâ and relationally committed.
Likewise, as we saw in our discussion of Philoâs usage of pistis (§4.3.4), the cognitive aspect of firm trust turns out to be firmly embedded in a relationship of reciprocal trust and trustworthiness, particularly when it comes to Abraham and God. Philo states, for example, that âGod, marvelling at Abrahamâs faith in him (Ïá¿Ï ÏÏá½¸Ï Î±á½Ïὸν Ïá½·ÏÏεÏÏ á¼Î³á½±Î¼ÎµÎ½Î¿Ï), repaid him with faithfulness (Ïá½·ÏÏιν á¼Î½ÏιδίδÏÏιν αá½Ïá¿·) by confirming with an oath the gifts which he had promised.â229 We find similar logic in Paulâs treatment of Abraham: his firm conviction that God would be of good faith establishes a bond of trust, a relationship of reciprocal divine-human faithfulness that would, in Paulâs reading, eventually incorporate all nations. The epistemological and psychological human attitude of trust is what prompts and substantiates the relational bond of trust.
The human face of faith need not theologically âcondemn usâ to a Pelegianistic standpoint on the origin of faith.230 From a linguistic point of view, we are dealing with a genuinely different semantic domain of pistis here, in which pistis is not so much conceived as something that comes entirely from God as an outside sourceâa conception we encountered in the previous chapterâbut in which the mental, human component is dominant. According to Paul, these two themes could coexist in perfect harmony, for as we saw in our discussion of Philippians 3.17â21, epistemological and ethical transformation goes hand in hand with the cosmic return of a just ruler: both are effectuated by the same energeia (see §3.4.2, and on energeia also §5.4.3). A final relevant parallel in this regard is found in (deutero-Pauline) Colossians (1.19â23), where the divine reconciliation with all things, including the addressed âyouâ, is given an additional disclaimer: âprovided that you continue securely established and steadfast in faith (εἴ γε á¼ÏιμÎνεÏε Ïá¿ ÏίÏÏει ÏεθεμελιÏμÎνοι καὶ á¼Î´Ïαá¿Î¿Î¹)â (Col 1.23). Here too, the focus on Christâs (or Godâs)231 definitive interference and ultimate purpose does not lead to a neglect of the human component: that too is clearly present, expressed in familiar terms of maintaining firmness or stability in faith.
4.4.2 As Surely as God Is Pistos (2 Cor 1.18): Divine and Apostolic Reliability
In many instances Christ is the object of knowledge and pistis in Paulâs letters. What, then, is the precise role of a community leader? Most of the texts mentioned above place Paul and his companions, like Timothy, in the position of teacher of this pistis, this âfaith(fullness)â, or rather, in our present context, âfirm convictionâ. To fulfil this position adequately, however, teachers must of course be stable and trustworthy (pistos) themselves. In this regard, it is an interesting observation that six out of a total of seven occurrences of the non-substantivized adjective pistos in the undisputed letters can be found in the Corinthian correspondence (the other in 1 Thes 5.24). As far as we can tell from the letters themselves, this congregation is notorious for questioning the status of the apostle.
If we take a closer look at these adjectives, we notice that, in the undisputed letters, three of them are attributed to Paul or Timothy and four of them refer to God.232 In the three former cases, pistos concerns the trustworthiness of apostles. Paul names them âservants of Christ and stewards of Godâs mysteriesâ and as stewards they need to be trustworthy (1 Cor 4.1â2). Hence, when Paul sends Timothy to Corinth, he is praised for his trustworthiness as a recommendation (1 Cor 4.17). This being pistos (ÏιÏÏá½¸Ï Îµá¼¶Î½Î±Î¹) gives one a means of knowing (γνÏμη) that is both different from the âauthority of the Lordâ (á¼ÏιÏαγὴν ÎºÏ ÏÎ¯Î¿Ï ) and at the same time realized âby the mercy of the Lordâ (ἠλεημÎÎ½Î¿Ï á½Ïὸ ÎºÏ ÏÎ¯Î¿Ï ) (1 Cor 7.25). In all these instances, pistis vocabulary is involved in the semantic field of knowledge, but serves as an intermediate category, firm yet not divine.
How does this picture change when it is said of God that he is pistos? The issue at stake in all four cases referring to God is the stability or perfection of the faithful. At the beginning of 1 Corinthians, various expressions in Paulâs thanksgiving point to this process of perfection: it is spoken of in terms of an enrichment in Christ in all reason and knowledge (1.5: á¼ÏÎ»Î¿Ï ÏίÏθηÏε á¼Î½ αá½Ïá¿· á¼Î½ ÏανÏὶ λÏγῳ καὶ ÏάÏῠγνÏÏει),233 as a strengthening of the testimony of/about Christ234 (1.6: Ïὸ μαÏÏÏÏιον Ïοῦ ΧÏιÏÏοῦ á¼Î²ÎµÎ²Î±Î¹Ïθη á¼Î½ á½Î¼á¿Î½), and as being strengthened by Christ up to the end (1.8: á½Ï καὶ βεβαιÏÏει á½Î¼á¾¶Ï á¼ÏÏ ÏÎÎ»Î¿Ï Ï) so as to be irreproachable on the day of the Lord.235 In this context, which abounds in epistemological vocabulary, it is said that God is faithful (1.9: ÏιÏÏá½¸Ï á½ Î¸Îµá½¸Ï). Later in the letter, the call to abstain from idolatry is underlined by the example of Israel in the desert. This call is phrased in familiar language: they are to remain standing if they are subjected to a test (10.12â13), for âGod is faithful, and he will not let you be tested beyond your strengthâ (10.13: ÏιÏÏá½¸Ï Î´á½² ὠθεÏÏ, á½Ï οá½Îº á¼Î¬Ïει á½Î¼á¾¶Ï ÏειÏαÏθá¿Î½Î±Î¹ á½Ïá½²Ï á½ Î´ÏναÏθε). At the end of 1 Thessalonians, a similar reassurance is given. Paul wishes his addressees to be sanctified entirely by God (5.23: á½ Î¸Îµá½¸Ï Ïá¿Ï εἰÏÎ®Î½Î·Ï á¼Î³Î¹Î¬Ïαι á½Î¼á¾¶Ï á½Î»Î¿Ïελεá¿Ï) so that their body, mind, and spirit are irreproachable (5.23: á¼Î¼ÎμÏÏÏÏ) at the âcoming of our Lord Jesus Christâ. This is affirmed by the words âthe one who calls you is faithful, and he will do soâ (5.24: ÏιÏÏá½¸Ï á½ ÎºÎ±Î»á¿¶Î½ á½Î¼á¾¶Ï, á½Ï καὶ ÏοιήÏει). In all three cases, then, the stability of God is expressed by the adjective pistos and functions as a guarantee for the stability and ultimate perfection of the Christ-community.236 Like Philoâs Moses, who derived his stability and faith from his standing close to God (see §4.3.4 above), the addressees will remain standing, because God is pistos, stable, and hence trustworthy.
It becomes even more interesting with the fourth instance of the adjective pistos as predicate of God in the undisputed letters. This time, Paul appeals to Godâs faithfulness to reaffirm his own reliability. In order to explain to the Corinthians why he had not come to Corinth he first rebuts the complaint of inconsistency:
As surely as God is faithful (ÏιÏÏá½¸Ï Î´á½² á½ Î¸Îµá½¸Ï á½ Ïι), our word to you has not been âyes and noâ. For the Son of God, Jesus Christ, whom we proclaimed among you, Silvanus and Timothy and I, was not âyes and noâ, but in him it is always âyesâ. For in him every one of Godâs promises is a âyesâ. For this reason it is through him that we say the âamenâ (διὸ καὶ διâ αá½Ïοῦ Ïὸ á¼Î¼á½´Î½ Ïá¿· θεῷ), to the glory of God. But it is God who establishes us with you in Christ (ὠδὲ βεβαιῶν á¼¡Î¼á¾¶Ï Ïὺν á½Î¼á¿Î½ Îµá¼°Ï Î§ÏιÏÏὸν). (2 Corinthians 1.18â21)
Duplicity or two-mindedness belongs neither to God nor to those who serve him. For Paul, the rhetorical purpose of this language lies in their mutual dependency on God being pistos: his relationship with the Corinthians should also be reciprocal, both having the other as âa boastâ at the Parousia (1.14). They should enjoy the joy of Paul (2 Cor 2.3) and feel his pain (2 Cor 2.5). This is what the Corinthians have only understood in part (1.14: á¼ÏÎγνÏÏε á¼¡Î¼á¾¶Ï á¼Ïὸ μÎÏÎ¿Ï Ï), but Paul hopes they will understand fully or litteratim âup to the endâ at that day (1.14: á¼Î»ÏÎ¯Î¶Ï Î´á½² á½ Ïι á¼ÏÏ ÏÎÎ»Î¿Ï Ï á¼ÏιγνÏÏεÏθε): he and they have an equal pistis (see 1.24, discussed in §5.4.2 below), an equal faithful, stable state of mind, secured by God in Christ. As Paul repeats further on, âIf you are confident that you belong to Christ (εἴ ÏÎ¹Ï ÏÎÏοιθεν á¼Î±Ï Ïá¿· ΧÏιÏÏοῦ εἶναι), remind yourself of this, that just as you belong to Christ, so also do weâ (2 Cor 10.7). Hence, they ought to have confidence in rather than question Paulâs trustworthiness, for like their own it is guaranteed in Christ. To distrust Paul is detrimental to their shared response of faith(fulness) to God.
In this context, the strong connection of trustworthiness to swearing and oaths becomes apparent, a connection we already encountered with Theognisâs account of degeneration in the previous chapter. While trying to explain the oddity of God himself swearing in Genesis 4, Philo provides us with an interesting account of how Godâs faithfulness can assure human speech:
Now men have recourse to oaths to win belief (Ïοῦ γε μὴν ÏιÏÏÎµÏ Î¸á¿Î½Î±Î¹ Ïá½±Ïιν (â¦) καÏαÏÎµá½»Î³Î¿Ï Ïιν á¼Ï᾿ á½ Ïκον á¼Î½Î¸ÏÏÏοι), when others deem them untrustworthy (á¼ÏιÏÏούμενοι); but God is trustworthy (ÏιÏÏá½¹Ï á¼ÏÏιν) in His speech as elsewhere, so that His words in certitude (βεβαιόÏηÏÎ¿Ï á¼Î½ÎµÎºÎ±) differ not a whit from oaths. And so it is that while with us the oath gives warrant for our sincerity, it is itself guaranteed by God. For the oath does not make God trustworthy; it is God that assures the oath (Î¿á½ Î³á½°Ï Î´Î¹á¾¿ á½ Ïκον ÏιÏÏá½¸Ï á½ Î¸Îµá½¹Ï, á¼Î»Î»á½° δι᾿ αá½Ïὸν καὶ á½ á½ ÏÎºÎ¿Ï Î²á½³Î²Î±Î¹Î¿Ï). (Philo, On the Sacrifices of Cain and Abel 93â94)
If, as Philoâs words confirm, Godâs faithfulness can affirm human sincerity, Paulâs call upon Godâs faithfulness to establish (βεβαιÏÏ) his own is wholly understandable given that his own sincerity is in question. And that he does not in fact swear an oath himself, in accordance with Jesusâs teachings (Matthew 5.33â37, cf. James 5.12), is also understandable. In both Paulâs and Philoâs usage of pistis language, Godâs pistis is the foundation of the human virtue of trustworthiness and stability.
But in addition to Philoâs analysis, Paul invokes Jesus Christ as the fulfilment of Godâs promisesâthat is Godâs âyesâ to usâand as the one in whom âweâ respond affirmatively to these promises.237 Christ is the firm, unwavering representative of Godâs faithfulness and the representative and guarantee of the human âamenâ to God, for in him both Paul and the Corinthians are âsecuredâ by God. In fact, as âamenâ comes from the same root as the Hebrew near equivalent of pistis, it is said here that the reply of human faith(fulness) to Godâs faithfulness is because of and through Christ (see also §§6.4.4â5 on Christ as an intermediary exemplum and chapter 7 on pistis in reciprocal relationships). In this stabilizing, confirming, or securing intermediary function of Christ, we encounter a specifically early-Christian expression.
4.4.3 By Pistis, Not by Sight (2 Cor 5.7): Faith through Sensible Images towards Ultimate Knowledge
Taken completely out of context, Paulâs remark that âwe walk by faith, not by sight (διὰ ÏίÏÏεÏÏ Î³á½°Ï ÏεÏιÏαÏοῦμεν, οὠδιὰ Îµá¼´Î´Î¿Ï Ï)â (2 Cor 5.7) is used in popular discourse by âfundamentalist Christiansâ and âfundamentalist atheistsâ alike to underline the unbridgeable gap between faith and science, as a simple internet search demonstrates. âSightâ is then taken to refer to empiricism, while faith denotes belief without proof.
Within Christian liturgy too, different interpretations of this verse can be found. The text of the 1844 hymn written by Henry Alford reads:
The interpretation of âfaithâ as opposed to sight in this song is related to the absence of God, or the absence of evidence of Godâs presence, while we are on this earth. The thrust is that âweâ would rather walk by sight, but we cannot, not yet at least. Completely different, yet still based on the same Pauline verse, is the hymn written in 1919 by Benjamin M. Ramsey:
Walking by faith is here seen not so much as a necessary provisionality of our earthly existence, but as the eventual goal of Christian life. By analogy, walking by sight is not the clear vision of God Christ-followers long for, but the material view they ought to overcome.238
In this subsection, I side with and argue for the interpretation that informs the first hymn, namely that Paulâs statement is meant to align faith and sight by their shared object, i.e. God, yet also contrast them as regards the provisional, earthly character of pistis. This is all the more evident when we compare Paulâs language of âseeingâ in this section with Platoâs.
Underlying this confusion in understanding âfaith not sightâ terminology are different meanings of sight. We can distinguish between âplain sightâ as sensible perception by means of our eyes and sight as a metaphor indicating a type of cognition, a âgraspingâ, or a close encounter of a non-natural character, a âbeholdingâ or, as it later became known, visio beatifica. In-between there are many shades of grey, which are particularly well exploited by Platonic philosophy. The way in which a transition from one type of seeing to another is made in the Platonic dialogues and later Platonic tradition may help us to better understand the logic behind Paulâs different usages of sight and, ultimately, help us interpret the pistis vocabulary in this passage. Therefore, I want to first turn to these Platonic ideas of vision before reading the entire passage (2 Cor 3â5) in this light, after which I will weigh the evidence in favour of both interpretations of âby faith not by sightâ.
A very cautious evaluation of the senses is given in the Phaedo, where it is said that philosophy tries to convince souls in their imprisoned state not to trust (pisteuÅ) their eyes or ears, but only their own thought directed at the real, the abstract, the invisible:
The lovers of knowledge, then, I say, perceive that philosophy, taking possession of the soul when it is in this state, encourages it gently and tries to set it free, pointing out that the eyes and the ears and the other senses are full of deceit, and urging (ÏÎµá½·Î¸Î¿Ï Ïα) it to withdraw from these, except in so far as their use is unavoidable, and exhorting it to collect and concentrate itself within itself, and to trust (ÏιÏÏεύειν) nothing except itself and its own abstract thought of abstract existence; and to believe239 that there is no truth in that which it sees by other means and which varies with the various objects in which it appears, since everything of that kind is visible and apprehended by the senses (εἶναι δὲ Ïὸ μὲν ÏοιοῦÏον αἰÏθηÏόν Ïε καὶ á½ÏαÏόν), whereas the soul itself sees that which is invisible and apprehended by the mind (ὠδὲ αá½Ïá½´ á½Ïá¾· νοηÏόν Ïε καὶ á¼ÎµÎ¹Î´á½³Ï). (Plato, Phaedo 83aâb)
Here the senses do not seem able to lead the soul to the world beyond. The final juxtaposition between what is perceptible or visible and what is intelligible or invisible (á¼ÎµÎ¹Î´á½³Ï, literally âwithout formâ)240 but still âseenâ (á½ÏάÏ) by the soul is very much in sync with Paulâs paradoxical aim to look (ÏκοÏÎÏ) not at what is visible (Ïá½° βλεÏÏμενα), which is temporary, but rather at what is invisible (Ïá½° μὴ βλεÏÏμενα), which is eternal (2 Cor 4.18).241
In different dialogues, however, Plato elaborates on the connection between what is seen by the human eye and what is intellectually discernible. In the Timaeus, the world itself is called âa visible living creature embracing the visible creatures (ζῶον á½ÏαÏὸν Ïá½° á½ÏαÏá½° ÏεÏιέÏον), a perceptible God made in the image of the Intelligible (εἰκὼν Ïοῦ νοηÏοῦ Î¸Îµá½¸Ï Î±á¼°ÏθηÏá½¹Ï)â242 According to Diotima in the Symposium, it is by observing instances of beauty, by âseeing the beautiful through that which makes it visibleâ (á½ÏῶνÏι ᾧ á½ÏαÏὸν Ïὸ καλόν), that one is led to knowledge of beauty, with its ultimate aim being âa wondrous vision, beautiful in its natureâ (καÏá½¹ÏεÏαί Ïι Î¸Î±Ï Î¼Î±ÏÏὸν Ïὴν Ïá½»Ïιν καλόν) or, more cognitively phrased, âso that he comes to know the very essence of beautyâ (ἵνα γνῷ αá½Ïὸ ÏÎµÎ»ÎµÏ Ïῶν á½ á¼ÏÏι καλόν).243 At several places in Platoâs oeuvre, he makes clear that the latter type of sight is a metaphor for thinking or grasping with the mind.244 The former is only useful in so far as it looks beyond what is visible in the narrow sense towards the underlying reality. Precisely in the ordinary perception of particular examples or images one can remember and intellectually perceive the universal in which it partakes.
Plutarch closely follows this scheme in his own Dialogue on Love or Amatorius. In Plutarchâs version, the function of the god ErÅs gains strongly religious overtones as âdivine and reasonable Loveâ (Î¸Îµá½·Î¿Ï ÎºÎ±á½¶ Ïá½½ÏÏÎ¿Î½Î¿Ï á¼ÏÏÏοÏ), the soulâs âphysician, its saviour, its guideâ (ἰαÏÏοῦ καὶ ÏÏÏá¿ÏÎ¿Ï ÎºÎ±á½¶ ἡγεμόνοÏ), the one âwho graciously appears to lift us out of the depths and escort us upward, like a mystic guide (Î¼Ï ÏÏαγÏγόÏ) beside us at our initiationâ.245 We already saw how for Plutarch the journey to the divine is difficult yet possible due to the strong ontological participation of the sensible in the intelligible realm. In this journey, Love acts as a âdivine guide towards the truthâ (á¼ÏÎ¹Îºá½¹Î¼ÎµÎ½Î¿Ï á¼Î³ÏÎ³á½¸Ï á¼Ïὶ Ïὴν á¼Î»á½µÎ¸ÎµÎ¹Î±Î½) through âthe medium of bodily formsâ (διὰ ÏÏμάÏÏν á¼ÏικόμενοÏ).246 In this context, just as we saw before in To an Uneducated Ruler (see §4.3.5), Plutarch adds the specific metaphor of the mirror, which is highly relevant because this image recurs in both 1 and 2 Corinthians (see also §4.4.4 below):
Love does not approach our souls in isolation by themselves, but through the body (διὰ ÏώμαÏοÏ). Teachers of geometry, when their pupils are not yet capable of initiation into purely intellectual conceptions of incorporeal and unchanging substance, offer them tangible and visible copies of spheres and cubes and dodecahedrons; in the same way heavenly Love contrives for us, as in a mirror, beautiful reflections of beautiful realities (οá½ÏÏÏ á¼¡Î¼á¿Î½ ὠοá½Ïá½±Î½Î¹Î¿Ï á¼ÏÏÏ á¼ÏοÏÏÏα καλῶν καλά). These are, however, merely mortal reflections of the divine, corruptible of the incorruptible, sensible of the intelligible (θνηÏá½° μένÏοι θείÏν καὶ á¼Ïαθῶν ÏαθηÏá½° καὶ νοηÏῶν αἰÏθηÏá½°). By showing us these in the form and hue and aspect of young men radiant in the prime of their beauty, Love gently excites our memory (κινεῠÏὴν μνήμην), which is first kindled by this means. (Plutarch, Dialogue on Love 765AâB)
The underlying theory is that of a prenatal vision in need of being remembered by us human beings; all that remains for Love is to guide us towards this insight.247 Love offers reflections of the divine which we perceive as in a mirror. Here, the phrasing is very similar to the passage we saw before, where Plutarch spoke of the gods revealing themselves in the sun and in âthe light of justice and knowledgeâ as âimage through a mirrorâ (δι᾿ á¼Ïá½¹ÏÏÏÎ¿Ï Îµá¼´Î´Ïλον).248 The language of earthly images mirroring the divine is a recurring theme throughout Plutarchâs oeuvre.249 The images are merely secondary; they are meant to guide the beholder towards the realities beyond. This, however, is not always the outcome. The same metaphor of the mirror is repeated again a little further on in the Dialogue on Love (with the synonymous noun of κάÏοÏÏÏον):
Yet most men, since they pursue in boys and women merely the mirrored image of Beauty (á½¥ÏÏÎµÏ á¼Î½ καÏá½¹ÏÏÏÎ¿Î¹Ï Îµá¼´Î´Ïλον αá½Ïοῦ ÏανÏαζόμενον), can attain by their groping nothing more solid than a pleasure mixed with pain. (Plutarch, Dialogue on Love 766A)
According to Plutarch here, people who do not look beyond the mirrored image but instead pursue the image itself do not attain a vision of the divine. This âgaze on Godâ is even described as being the chief aim of Platonism by another second-century author, Justin Martyr.250
The âMiddle Platonistâ reception of Plato in Plutarchâs works is interesting not merely because it proves the continuation of the discourse into the first and second century ad, but because it both adds this element of the mirror and takes up the specific subject of love for the beautiful as an example of a more general structure in which the divine, incorruptible, and intelligible are reflected in the mortal, corruptible, and sensible. In the whole argument of 2 Corinthians 3â5 we can discern a similar Platonic movement from sensible, earthly, actual sight to intellectual, heavenly, metaphorical sight, much like the one in the Symposium and the Dialogue on Love. And just as in the passage from the Aristotelean treatise On the Cosmos, Paul uses pistis language to describe this type of human perception of the invisible.
Throughout 2 Corinthians 3â5, a passage that has some characteristics of a Jewish Midrash on Exodus 34, Paul compares himself to the figure of Moses. Moses functions as a model and prefiguration albeit one that pales by comparison.251 Paul refers to the Exodus narrative (Ex 34.29â35) by stating that the people of Israel were not able to gaze (á¼ÏενίζÏ) at Mosesâs face because of its glory (δÏξα) (2 Cor 3.7) and that Moses actually wore a veil to keep them from gazing âat the purpose (Ïὸ ÏÎλοÏ) of the gloryââthat is, beyond the visible to the divine glory, which he later (2 Cor 4.4) connects to the face of Christ.252 The verb used for seeing here (á¼ÏενίζÏ) is âa technical term, used particularly in the context of a divine epiphany or a manifestation of divine powerâ.253 So even though the Israelites are in a situation of âplain sightâ, the vocabulary indicates that there is more to see than meets the non-metaphorical eye. Paul then connects the present condition of his fellow Jews to those living at the time of Moses, arguing that there is still a veil hiding the old covenant, that there is also a veil over the heart of those listening to it being read (2 Cor 3.14â15), and finally that his own message is hidden for âthose who are perishingâ (2 Cor 4.3). Yet, this veil is removed âwhen one turns to the Lordâ (2 Cor 3.16).254 Whereas the Mosaic veil, then, was actually barring the ancient Israelitesâ sight, these further reflections of Paul turn a narrative of plain sight or the obstruction thereof into a figure denoting insight: the grasping or beholding of a divine truth.
This is not where the similarities with the Platonic scheme end, however. The idea of seeing the Form of Beauty mediated by images of beauty (from Diotimaâs speech in Platoâs Symposium) and particularly the idea of mirror images of God (from Plutarchâs To an Uneducated Ruler and On Love) resonate with the Pauline discourse of sight in these chapters. For here also, there are visible objects on the earth that serve as intermediaries to lead those watching and contemplating to higher, invisible knowledge of God, transforming the viewer into Godâs likeness and suggesting a process of ethical reform.255 We already saw that the figure of the earthen vessels (2 Cor 4.7) refers to Godâs power made visible (2 Cor 4.10: ÏανεÏÏθá¿) in human bodily appearance, similar to pagan simulacra (see §2.4.3 above). Paul presents himself as such a vessel, having taken part in Jesusâs death by affliction and persecution, âso that the life of Jesus may also be made visibleâ (ÏανεÏÏθá¿) in his body or mortal flesh (2 Cor 4.11). The epistemological-theological and the ethical discourses are thus not mutually exclusive but directly linked and mutually reinforcing, as the topos of âassimilation to the divineâ (homoiÅsis theÅi) which I discuss in chapter 6 also confirms.256
Earlier in the letter, Paul and the Corinthians are said, much like the Israelites watching Moses, to âbehold the glory of the Lord as in a mirror (καÏοÏÏÏιζÏμενοι)â, only âwith unveiled facesâ, and are thus âbeing transformed into the same image from one degree of glory to anotherâ (2 Cor 3.18). The verb chosen communicates a type of indirect vision, derived from its relation to the noun âmirrorâ (κάÏοÏÏÏον), and this meaning is confirmed by the indirectness of being transformed to the Lordâs glory through his image.257 The mirror was often chosen as a metaphor for moral self-improvement and is therefore a useful image in this context to emphasize the actual transformation that takes place: one that is more effective than gazing at Moses, but not yet the direct heavenly view of God.258
Read against the background of the Platonic epistemological discourse, this intermediate position stands out even clearer. On the one hand, the vision is as clear as is humanly attainable. As this vision takes place without veils, there is a connection to the ultimate reality beyond what is sensibly perceived, a connection that has greater force and lucidity than the connection via the written Law of Moses. On the other hand, it is still mediated, for from the face of the earth we cannot see any clearer than through an image (εἰκÏν). In a similar manner, the character Timaeus had warned that since the cosmos is only an image, we should not aim at certainty but at likelihood (εἰκÏν), being content with the cognitive capacity of pistis (Plato, Timaeus 29c; see §4.3.2).
Another textual parallel that has often been referred to is found in the Book of Wisdom or Wisdom of Solomon, where Wisdom herself is described as259
a breath of the power of God and an emanation of the pure glory of the Almighty (Ïá¿Ï Ïοῦ ΠανÏοκÏá½±ÏοÏÎ¿Ï Î´á½¹Î¾Î·Ï), (â¦) a reflection of eternal light (á¼ÏαύγαÏμα Î³á½±Ï á¼ÏÏι ÏÏÏá½¸Ï á¼ÏÎ´á½·Î¿Ï ) and a spotless mirror of the activity of God (á¼ÏοÏÏÏον á¼ÎºÎ·Î»á½·Î´ÏÏον Ïá¿Ï Ïοῦ Îεοῦ á¼Î½ÎµÏγείαÏ) and an image of his goodness (εἰκὼν Ïá¿Ï á¼Î³Î±Î¸á½¹ÏηÏÎ¿Ï Î±á½Ïοῦ). (â¦) she renews all things (Ïá½° ÏάνÏα καινίζει), and in every generation she passes into holy souls and makes them (καÏαÏÎºÎµÏ á½±Î¶ÎµÎ¹) friends of God (Ïá½·Î»Î¿Ï Ï Îεοῦ) and prophets. (Wisdom 7.25â27)260
While speculations about a conscious allusion by Paul are not particularly well-founded, the most interesting conclusion to be drawn from this similarity is that the concepts of Godâs glory and light, the mirror and image of God, and even the idea of human transformation towards friendship with God were part of the same topos in Paulâs literary Umwelt.261 , esp. §6.3.4.
Further on, Christ is explicitly named the âimage of God (εἰκὼν Ïοῦ θεοῦ)â (2 Cor 4.4).262 The gospel functions as yet another intermediary to be seen, as Paul speaks of âseeing the light of the gospel of the glory of Christâ (2 Cor 4.4). Recalling intellectual perception in Plato, this act of seeing the light is in fact an act of knowing and recognizing Christ as image, for this light is âthe light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christâ (ÏÏá½¸Ï ÏÏÏιÏμὸν Ïá¿Ï γνÏÏεÏÏ Ïá¿Ï δÏÎ¾Î·Ï Ïοῦ θεοῦ á¼Î½ ÏÏοÏÏÏῳ ΧÏιÏÏοῦ). Unlike in the Platonic pattern, though, Christ is to be known as the ultimate image, not just one particular instance. Nor is this recognition to be thought of in terms of a recollection (á¼Î½Î¬Î¼Î½Î·ÏιÏ) of a prenatal vision of truth. To Paul, the renewed relationship to God is one of âbeing made visibleâ to God (2 Cor 5.11: θεῷ δὲ ÏεÏανεÏÏμεθα), that is, being recognized and acknowledged by God. Through an image, God is made visible and people can metaphysically see God, and through that same image people become seen by or known to God.
And yet, Paul writes that the âlight in the face of Christâ is not seen by apistoi, which brings us to the question of how we can relate apistia, âdistrustâ, âfaithlessnessâ, or âdisbeliefâ and ultimately its positive pistis to this discourse of sight. From a Platonic perspective, it is understandable that the intelligible is not seen by all. In fact, we read in the Phaedrus that âonly a few, approaching the images through the darkling organs of sense (δι᾿ á¼Î¼Ï δÏῶν á½ÏγάνÏν), behold in them the nature of that which they imitate (θεῶνÏαι Ïὸ Ïοῦ εἰκαÏθένÏÎ¿Ï Î³á½³Î½Î¿Ï), and these few do this with difficulty.â263 For Philo, most people are also like the Chaldeans, believing that âthere is no originating cause outside the things we perceive by our sensesâ (οá½Î´á½²Î½ á¼Î¾Ï Ïῶν αἰÏθηÏῶν αἴÏιον á½ÏολαμβάνονÏÎµÏ Îµá¼¶Î½Î±Î¹).264 The cause of this difficulty lies, according to Plato, in the fact that the images do not contain light themselves. By contrast, according to Paul there is enough light reflected on earth, but the minds of the beholders are blinded (2 Cor 4.4: á¼ÏÏÏλÏÏεν Ïá½° νοήμαÏα Ïῶν á¼ÏίÏÏÏν) and Paulâs good message is veiled (2 Cor 4.3: ÎºÎµÎºÎ±Î»Ï Î¼Î¼Îνον Ïὸ εá½Î±Î³Î³Îλιον ἡμῶν).265
In both Jewish and pagan sources, the image of having an impediment to clear sight is often used to illustrate the condition of being ignorant of divine truth. In the Iliad (5.127â128), Athena takes away the âmistâ from the eyes of Diomedes so that he can discern âgods and menâ. Seneca calls human sight âdullâ for perceiving the divine, wherefore Wisdom chose to show these sights to our minds.266 Epictetus scolds the Epicurean and Academic philosophers for being completely deaf and totally blind (á¼ÏοκεκÏÏÏÎ¼á½³Î½Î¿Ï Ï), as they deny plain perceptions including perceptions of the divine.267 Lucian describes his own experience of philosophical transformation in similar terms: I started from a âpurblind conditionâ (ÏÏ ÏλώÏÏÎ¿Ï Ïαν) but âby degrees grew sharper-sighted in my soulâ (Ïὴν δὲ ÏÏ Ïὴν á½Î¾Ï δεÏκέÏÏεÏÎ¿Ï ÎºÎ±Ïá½° μικÏὸν á¼Î³Î¹Î³Î½á½¹Î¼Î·Î½).268 Perhaps closest to Paulâs reasoning in 2 Corinthians is the imagery in Enochâs Animal Apocalypse, where the closing of the eyes of the sheep (which also happens after the Sinai experience) may signify the Israelites turning away from God or losing knowledge of the divine, while the reverse condition implies knowing God again.269 The metaphor of impeded sight to denote not recognizing the divine is thus well documented in the literature of the period.
Likewise, in 2 Corinthians, the metaphors of sight denote cognition, and the inability to see the ultimate truth is described as a cognitive failure: the minds of the Israelites were hardened (2 Cor 3.14: á¼ÏÏÏÏθη Ïá½° νοήμαÏα αá½Ïῶν) and similarly, Paulâs unbelieving contemporaries have blinded minds. They are called apistoi, people without faith, precisely because they cannot see the light of God in his visible image, Christ. It is their lack of pistis that defines those whose minds are blinded by the god of this world âto keep them from seeing the light of the gospel of the glory of Christ, who is the image of Godâ. Sight, in all of these instances, refers to metaphysical insight beyond what the physical eye can discern, and pistis is used in paradigmatic relation to this metaphysical form of sight.270 A lack of pistis in this epistemological context thus comes down to the inability to see the reality beyond sensibles.
If we translate this meaning of the negative apistoi (2 Cor 4.4) to the meaning of pistis in this passage as a whole, we could say that our attitude towards this ultimate reality, via the mediation of an image, is one of pistis. This fits well with the other occurrence of pistis (2 Cor 4.13) and with the imagery in general. In Paulâs application of the words of Psalm 115, âI believed, and so I spokeâ (2 Cor 4.13), the emphasis is on pistis as a strong conviction in the face of earthly affliction.271 Here pistis is the source of the confidence, the resilience, the ânot failingâ which is such a central recurring theme in this section.272 It was this pistis, according to the author of Hebrews, that gave Moses confidence on his flight from Egypt âas though he saw him who is invisible (Ïὸν Î³á½°Ï á¼ÏÏαÏον á½¡Ï á½Ïῶν)â (Hebr 11.27). Analogous to the meaning apistoi (2 Cor 4.4), pistis implies the ability to look beyond the veils, beyond the earthen vessels, and beyond the death of Christ towards the light, the treasure, and the resurrection. It sets those with pistis, Paul in particular, apart from those who âboast in countenanceâ (ÏÎ¿á½ºÏ á¼Î½ ÏÏοÏÏÏῳ ÎºÎ±Ï ÏÏμÎÎ½Î¿Ï Ï) (2 Cor 5.12). Accordingly, those with pistis are able to see the newness of the creation (2 Cor 5.17: ἰδοὺ γÎγονεν καινά) and no longer know âaccording to the fleshâ (2 Cor 5.16). As in Plutarchâs Dialogue on Love, people approach âthrough the bodyâ, yet look beyond. Pistis is used in opposition to ordinary sight and in analogy with the mindâs eyeâs view of the divine, via Christ and Paul as mediating mirror images. Pistis is seeing the ultimate divine reality through and beyond earthly particularities.
So far, we have looked for Paulâs usage of sight in literal and figurative ways in this passage and established that sight is used as a metaphor for knowing God and understanding his gospel. Up until now, pistis is used analogously with this to mean the confidence to look through created being towards the divine reality. The question is how this helps us to better understand in what way pistis and eidos, âsightâ or âshapeâ (εἶδοÏ), are being juxtaposed later in this section (2 Cor 5.7).
The problems one faces when interpreting this verse are manifold, though the main problem is seldom addressed explicitly. As for the minor issues, the noun eidos can either mean âformâ, âoutward appearanceâ as in the visible object, or âsightâ as in the act of vision.273 Secondly, διά can either denote the means of the walking/living or the accompanying circumstances.274 Of greater importance for Paulâs meaning, however, is the question of which one of our two types of appearance or sight is meant: does it refer to sight or appearances of earthly sensibles or to the metaphorical form or sight of the divine? Put bluntly, is it a statement of âalreadyâ or ânot yetâ? The latter option is the most popular in scholarly interpretation. There are exceptions, though. For example, Desta Heliso writes that âPaul contrasts διὰ Îµá¼´Î´Î¿Ï Ï [ÏεÏιÏαÏεá¿Î½] (as the lower degree) with διὰ ÏίÏÏεÏÏ ÏεÏιÏαÏεá¿Î½ (the higher degree) (2 Cor 5.7) almost in the same way as he contrasts ÏνεÏμαÏι ÏεÏιÏαÏεá¿Î½ with á¼ÏÎ¹Î¸Ï Î¼Î¯Î±Î½ ÏαÏÎºá½¸Ï (Gal 5.16).â275 Thus, eidos would refer to a carnal perspective and pistis to a spirit-filled life.276 Similarly, David Hay reads this verse as indicating that âthe suffering and obloquy that Paul and other Christians experience are visible and transient, whereas faith looks to things that are unseen and eternal (4:16â18)â.277 And finally, a more substantiated case for eidos indicating earthly appearance was made by Jane Heath, in line with Isaiah 52â53, where the shape (εἶδοÏ) of the Servant is described as âheld in no esteemâ (52.14: á¼Î´Î¿Î¾á½µÏει), and âunhonoured and inferiorâ (53.3: á¼Ïιμον καὶ á¼ÎºÎ»Îµá¿Ïον).278 How well do these interpretations fit the immediate context, the larger context of the letter and intertextual material?
From the immediate context, an interpretation of eidos as âplain sightâ or âearthly formâ is not easily justified. The juxtaposition of âfaithâ and âform/sightâ is used in the context of the contrast between being âat home in the bodyâ and âat home with the Lordâ (2 Cor 5.6, 8). This contrast between the situation of the life on earth versus the heavenly life thereafter in prima facie suggests that the eidos in question is connected to the divine: we do not walk by direct appearance of God. Still, it is also said in the context of âbeing confidentâ (2 Cor 5.6: θαÏÏοῦνÏε; 2 Cor 5.8: θαÏÏοῦμεν): the question is whether he is confident in spite of his merely indirect view of God, or whether Paul is confident because he has a better view of God through faith than though mere sense perception. Does gar (γάÏ: âforâ) in this phrase, âfor we walk through faith, not through eidosâ (διὰ ÏίÏÏεÏÏ Î³á½°Ï ÏεÏιÏαÏοῦμεν, οὠδιὰ Îµá¼´Î´Î¿Ï Ï), explain Paulâs confidence or his relative distance from the Lord? The only textual clue is that the second mention of confidence is introduced by the particle de (δὲ: âandâ, âbutâ), which does not necessarily denote contrast, yet evidently marks the resumption of the speech about confidence. This makes it at least more likely that the concessive phrase starting with καὶ is more strongly connected to the explanation in the gar phrase than are the parts about being confident.279
In the larger context, the idea of the relative irrelevance of outer appearances is present in the figure of the earthen vessels (2 Cor 4.7â12), in contrasting the âmomentary afflictionâ of the âouter human being (á½ á¼Î¾Ï (â¦) á¼Î½Î¸ÏÏÏοÏ)â (2 Cor 4.16â17), in the metaphor of the âearthly tentâ in which we âgroanâ (2 Cor 5.1â4), âin countenance (á¼Î½ ÏÏοÏÏÏῳ)â versus âin the heartâ (2 Cor 5.12), and in âaccording to the flesh (καÏá½° ÏάÏκα)â (2 Cor 5.16). Still, in these passages Paul does not seem to be concerned with opposing bodily vices, as in Galatians 5.16â21, but rather with offering an apologetic for his own presentation vis-aÌâvis those who only keep up appearances, while consoling those under the burden of this bodily existence with the knowledge of the glory of the heavenly existence.280 As we have seen thus far, apart from the warning not to look at the visible (2 Cor 4.18) and not to boast in countenance (2 Cor 5.12), Paulâs expansive vocabulary of sight in this entire section denotes a metaphorical, metaphysical vision of God.281 This would suggest that it is this figurative, metaphysical type of sight that is foremost in his mind and that it is this type of sight is contrasted to faith.
Intertextuality offers material for understanding eidos as earthly form but also for understanding it as heavenly vision. A witness that supports a metaphysical interpretation of eidos is found in Numeri 12, when God addresses Moses, Miriam, and Aaron in the tabernacle (Ïκηνή) after the latter two questioned Mosesâs behaviour. God then reaffirms Mosesâs divine authority by contrasting his conversation with Moses which occurs âmouth to mouthâ, âin appearance (á¼Î½ εἴδει)â, and ânot in riddlesâ with that with âordinaryâ prophets, to whom he speaks in visions and dreams. Here, evidently, being spoken to âin appearanceâ refers to being in the presence of God. And, as we saw in Philo, Moses was known in particular for his longing and ability to see God (see §4.2.3 supra). I would not go so far as to suggest that an allusion is being made in 2 Corinthians 5.7 when Paul claims not to walk by eidos, for in fact his aim in the beginning of the section seems to be to compare himself favourably to Moses as a minister of a new and lively covenant (2 Cor 3.6), able to speak more freely than the veiled Moses (2 Cor 3.12â13). Notably, Moses was considered trustworthy (ÏιÏÏÏÏ) in Godâs whole house (Num 12.7: á¼Î½ ὠλῳ Ïá¿· οἴκῳ Î¼Î¿Ï ÏιÏÏá½¹Ï á¼ÏÏι, cf. Heb 3.5), whereas Paul still lives in his earthly tent (2 Cor 5.1: Ïκηνή). At the very least, the notion of God himself speaking to Moses âin his visible formâ and hence the connection of eidos to being in the presence of the divine, cannot have been completely alien to Paul, as he was familiar with the Torah.
Considering these three factors, then, a translation like âfor we live according to faith, not in the direct visible appearance of Godâ seems preferable, if only slightly, to a rendering like âfor we live according to faith, not according to what is perceived by our eyesâ.282 Thus, pistis is delineated from direct vision of the divine and used to denote precisely that situation in which one can see the beyond without being veiled, but only indirectly, as in a mirror, through Christ as imago Dei. Hence, for Paul, it is only a mode of vision necessary in the present, while âweâ are âin the bodyâ, but superseded by full knowledge and vision in the future, when âweâ are âat home with the Lordâ. We already saw, however, how the other instances of pistis vocabulary in this section delineate pistis from the other extreme of âplain sightâ. Thus, pistis is not like heavenly vision because of its indirect access to God, but also not like earthly vision because of its ability to see beyond what is perceived by the senses.
Pistis is the route towards distinguishing divine knowledge, and therefore it belongs to the epistemological domain here. In its provisional character, however, it differs from Philoâs usage of pistis. For in Philo, pistis is a product of precisely this Mosaic view of God, âa view free from all falsehoodâ, whereas in Paul, it is contrasted with this ultimate vision.283 As an intermediate power of cognition, it is much more in line with its place on the Platonic epistemological ladder I discussed extensively in §4.2.2. Pistis is directed at visible images as its primary object, yet it reaches beyond these towards intellectual truth, giving assent to what is real. To put it in terms that remain closer to Paulâs own, pistis is earthly knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Christ. Or, in the vocabulary of this chapterâs title, it is a âfirm, human conviction anticipating divine knowledgeâ. In its provisional character, pistis is similar to hope, for âwe hope for what we do not seeâ (Rom 8.25). Yet, in its ultimate aim, it shares the divine object of love. Indeed, love is the only one of the remaining virtues that lasts eternally (1 Cor 13.13). This, at least, is what my discussion of this famous chapter in 1 Corinthians intends to point out in the next subsection.
4.4.4 Pistis, Hope, and Love Abide (1 Cor 13.13): Faith as Provisional (Yet Not Irrational) Knowledge of God
The final question I want to address in this chapter is how we can understand the meaning of pistis in the so-called âhymn to loveâ, now known as the thirteenth chapter of 1 Corinthians.284 The conclusion of Paulâs treatment of the topos of love was the main locus for the dogma that there are three theological virtues, supplementing the four cardinal virtues of the Greeks: âAnd now faith, hope, and love abide (Î½Ï Î½á½¶ δὲ μÎνει ÏίÏÏιÏ, á¼Î»ÏίÏ, á¼Î³Î¬Ïη), these three; and the greatest of these is loveâ (1 Cor 13.13).285 The prominence of faith here, combined with the lack of a cognitive virtue like âtruthâ which occurs in similar enumerations with a Platonic orientation, has been understood as indicative of the fideistic or irrational nature of Christian thought. I will address this reading at the end of this subsection. First, however, I want look into the meaning of faith in this section as a whole, which, I argue, belongs to the epistemological semantic domain and is best understood against the background of the Platonic discourse I presented in this chapter.
More specifically, I want to consider the meaning of the verb âto abideâ (μÎνÏ) in Paulâs concluding sentence. Are hope and faith there to stay, âwhen the complete comesâ (13.10)? Roughly, there are two options: pistis is either said to abide only for now (with a temporal Î½Ï Î½á½¶), or it is said to abide forever (with a logical Î½Ï Î½á½¶, used as a marker of conclusion).286 Both readings are linguistically valid, and both were already represented among the church fathers.287 As the contents of the previous subsection and this sectionâs title may indicate, I would opt for the first option, according to which pistis is provisional in nature. More strongly put, I maintain that the type of faith Paul speaks of here aims at its own abrogation. Viewed from the Platonic epistemology set forth in this chapter, such provisionality makes perfect sense.
In many respects, the passage at hand is similar to the one we discussed in the previous subsection. The image of the mirror recurs, as does the idea of seeing the divine. This suggests that pistis vocabulary in these sections is also part of the same semantic domain, a domain characterized by different gradations or manifestations of knowledge: from human to divine. Pistis language recurs several times, so we will have a look at these different instances.
What is interesting about the relations between the words of this domain in this particular passage is that pistis is placed on a par with knowledge yet is contrasted with love: âif I have prophetic powers, and understand (εἰδῶ) all mysteries and all knowledge (ÏᾶÏαν Ïὴν γνῶÏιν), and if I have all faith (ÏᾶÏαν Ïὴν ÏίÏÏιν), so as to remove mountains, but do not have love (á¼Î³Î¬Ïην), I am nothingâ (1 Cor 13.2). As the Reformers were hasty to emphasize, this faith is not the same as the justifying type.288 Paul obviously refers here to the pneumatic gifts he was discussing (1 Cor 12.1â31) before digressing onto the topic of love, which also included âword/reason of wisdom (λÏÎ³Î¿Ï ÏοÏίαÏ)â, âword/reason of knowledgeâ (λÏÎ³Î¿Ï Î³Î½ÏÏεÏÏ), and faith (ÏίÏÏιÏ) (1 Cor 12.8â9).289 These gifts were given to different people âfor the common goodâ (12.7: ÏÏá½¸Ï Ïὸ ÏÏ Î¼ÏÎÏον), yet Paul is concerned that if they are not used in this fashion, they are of no use at all. This prompts both the simile of the body (1 Cor 12.12â31a) and the digression on love (1 Cor 12.31bâ13.13).
Paulâs phrase âall faith so as to remove mountainsâ is most probably a reference to the (synoptic) Jesus-tradition (Mk 11.22â23; Mt 17.20; Mt 21.21, Lk 17.6). Maureen Yeung has listed several more candidates in her study into the relationship between Paulâs âfaithâ and Jesusâs âfaithâ.290 The pagan candidates, however, lack pistis vocabulary altogether. Lucianâs character Timolaus wishes for Hermes to give him a ring with the special power âto move whole mountains with his finger-tipâ (á½Ïη ὠλα κινεá¿Î½ á¼ÎºÏῳ Ïá¿· δακÏύλῳ Î´Ï Î½á½±Î¼ÎµÎ½Î¿Î½).291 Livy has his characters, Roman soldiers trapped in a pass by barricades on both sides, say, âlet us scale the mountainsâ (per adversa montium), while another, more desperate person asks, âdo we think to remove the mountains from their seat?â (num montes moliri sede sua paramus).292 As regards these âGreekâ parallels, which only take up half a page in Yeungâs monograph, Yeung concludes that, because they lack the notion of faith, they âcan hardly be considered as true parallels of 1 Cor 13.2â.293 She is more positive about several Jewish parallels, where âfaithâ seems to be implicitly or explicitly part of the context: these may have been important as background to (the narration of) Jesusâs teaching and, together with Jesusâs teachings, may have influenced Paul too.294
As I suggested in the introductory chapter, however, it is hard to determine the precise value of any individual âtrue parallelâ (see §1.3.2): instead of thinking in terms of individual parallels and direct dependence, I would emphasize the need to think in terms of participation in a shared discourse. These Graeco-Roman similarities in wording illustrate a shared idiom rather than a shared discourse. What they do offer is evidence that the idea of removing mountains was a more widely used image to illustrate a (nearly) impossible endeavour (cf. also Mt 17.20: ânothing will be impossible for youâ). Consequently, âall faith so as to remove mountainsâ speaks in superlatives of an enormous trust (in God) rather than of any specific spiritual power related to moving mountains.
The usage of pistis here in conjunction with words that denote knowledge already indicates that the relevant discourse for understanding pistis is an epistemological one. Paul seems to make use of the vocabulary of a coherent semantic domain, with terms indicating knowledge, faith, and seeing the divine, as is evident from the parallels between this passage and 2 Corinthians 3â5, to which the previous subsection was dedicated. In both 1 Corinthians 13, and 2 Corinthians 3â5, the idea of âseeingâ the divine is present as is the image of a mirror (1 Cor 13.12; 2 Cor 3.18).
Even though âloveâ, which is the main topic of Paulâs digression, seems, perhaps, to belong to a more social semantic domain, from the Platonic discourse presented in this chapter, it perfectly fits this epistemological sphere as well. As we have seen (§4.3.2), in Platoâs Symposium the ErÅs that true philosophers pursue makes them aware of a deficit in perfect, divine knowledge, while at the same time offering the means to reach divine knowledge by loving instances of it on this earth. Centuries later, this remains a central tenet of Platonic ontology and epistemology: we have also seen (§4.4.3) how Plutarch called ErÅs the âdivine conductor to the truthâ (á¼ÏÎ¹Îºá½¹Î¼ÎµÎ½Î¿Ï á¼Î³ÏÎ³á½¸Ï á¼Ïὶ Ïὴν á¼Î»á½µÎ¸ÎµÎ¹Î±Î½) through âthe medium of bodily formsâ (διὰ ÏÏμάÏÏν á¼ÏικόμενοÏ).295 Love is the acknowledgement of human deficiency and the longing for and route to divine knowledge.
While some might pause here to point out that agapÄ and erÅs (and other near-synonyms like philia) represent radically different types of love, in actual usage these variations seem to be subtler than any systematic differentiation would allow.296 Moreover, the same applies to Paulâs knowledge terminology of (epi)ginÅskÅ and categories of knowledge which may seem more âphilosophicalâ such as epistÄmÄ yet which already served interchangeable roles in Plato.297
Now, the difference with Paulâs argument in 1 Corinthians 13 is that here, love (indicated by the noun agapÄ) seems to belong to the ultimate reality; âlove never endsâ (1 Cor 13.8: ἡ á¼Î³Î¬Ïη οá½Î´ÎÏοÏε (á¼Îº)ÏίÏÏει), whereas in the Platonic tradition, love (erÅs) is a means to reach the ultimate reality. In fact, if we follow the same logic as in the previous subsection, pistis functions in Paulâs reasoning not unlike erÅs in Platonist philosophy: it reaches beyond sensible reality to the ultimate reality, God. Unlike erÅs, however, the actual recollection of the divine realities does not seem to be part of Paulâs usage of pistis here.298 Yet like erÅs, it is of an earthly, indirect, and temporary character. Unlike âsightâ (in 2 Cor 5.7) it cannot behold the divine directly (see §4.4.3). And unlike âloveâ (in 1 Cor 13), it is not there to stay when the âultimateâ comes (1 Cor 13.10: á½ Ïαν δὲ á¼Î»Î¸á¿ Ïὸ ÏÎλειον). The usage of pistis for this preliminary knowledge is not a big step. Philosophical erÅs is an acknowledgement of not knowing and hence a longing for ultimate knowledge. Pauline pistis functions here as a similar acknowledgement of deficiency: placing oneâs trust outside oneself into âthe one who knows completelyâ (cf. 1 Cor 13.12).
Τhis tentative likeness to Platonist epistemology becomes more convincing if we proceed to read the rest of Paulâs digression in this light. The first part (13.1â3) demonstrates the futility of human endeavours to approach the divine (including pistis) without love. The second part (13.4â7) offers a positive description of love, culminating in the saying that love âbears all things (ÏάνÏα ÏÏÎγει), believes all things (ÏάνÏα ÏιÏÏεÏει), hopes all things (ÏάνÏα á¼Î»Ïίζει), endures all things (ÏάνÏα á½ÏομÎνει).â This translation (here NRSV) is common yet has its downsides, in particular when it comes to the translation of the verb pisteuÅ. As Teresa Morgan observed, the usage of an accusative as the object of pisteuÅ is uncommon and its meaning requires explanation (should we not be more restrictive in whom we put our trust?); a more elegant solution is that âallâ (ÏάνÏα) is used adverbially, rendering the meaning that love âtrusts absolutelyâ.299
This interpretation aligns with a passage from another treatise on love (á¼ÏÏÏ) which is seldom taken into account in discussions of Paulâs variant, namely the 20th oration by Maximus of Tyre, a second-century philosophical orator of whom forty-one orations have been recorded and preserved. Part of this oration reads:
No beast can frighten it, no fire, no cliff, no sea, no sword, no noose; impossible feats become childâs play, fearsome adversaries prove easy to defeat, terrors dissolve into trivialities, heavy tasks become as light as air; all rivers can be crossed, all storms weathered, all mountains scaled with ease (á½Ïη εá½Î´ÏομÏÏαÏα). Love is courageous in all places, dismisses all, and conquers all (ÏανÏαÏοῦ θαÏÏεá¿, ÏάνÏÏν á½ÏεÏοÏá¾·, ÏάνÏÏν κÏαÏεá¿). (Maximus of Tyre, Philosophical Orations 20.2)300
While the purpose of Paulâs elaboration on the topic of love is different, this passage shows how an orator could approach the topic of love, using enumerations and superlatives to make a point. Interestingly, here the idea of mountains representing difficulty returns (though the mountains remain where they are, they become easily scalable), and the passage also contains an enumeration with each time a variant of âallâ (ÏάνÏα) and a verb. Here as in 1 Corinthians 13, the idea is that love offers a connection that keeps its strength in face of all kinds of earthly challenges. The similarity in style has led some to conclude that the middle part of the digression on love (13.4â7) may have been written by one of Paulâs students as âa highly crafted paraenetic set-pieceâ, which would also explain the oddity that faith and hope serve as actions of love.301
While this may be the case, the idea that love is made up of pisteuein is not as odd as we might think at first. Plutarch, for instance, states that love has pistis so that even a profligate becomes deaf to all other appeals, implying that love makes someone else pistos, loyal, and thereby creates reciprocity in love.302 Moreover, the idea that love includes the strongest type of faith is not unlike what Paul himself states elsewhere, that love is the actualization (á¼Î½ÎÏγεια) of faith (Gal 5.6, on which see §5.4.3 below). Furthermore, if we interpret the conclusion of 1 Cor 13 as an expression of the temporary nature of pistis, it may well be âtaken upâ into love as one of its building blocks.
The third and final part of Paulâs digression on love (1 Cor 13.8â13) consists of a contrast between the things which last only for a short while and those which last indefinitely. While love is said to ânever failâ, prophesies, tongues and knowledge are said to have limited use (13.8). Pistis is missing in this list. Based on what we have read so far in the first part, however, we know that together with knowledge and prophecy it belongs to the things which amount to ânothingâ without love.
Paul continues his description of the contrast as one between âwhat is in partâ (Ïὸ á¼Îº μÎÏÎ¿Ï Ï) and âwhat is ultimatelyâ (Ïὸ ÏÎλειον) (13.10). Knowledge appears to function in both categories: ânow I know in part (γινÏÏÎºÏ á¼Îº μÎÏÎ¿Ï Ï), then I will know fully (á¼ÏιγνÏÏομαι)â (13.12). In using these terms, he is playing with the knowledge claimed by the Corinthians, which Paul regards as âpuffed-upâ and as an obstacle in their community and their love for God (cf. 1 Cor 8.1bâ3). In the introductory section of 2 Corinthians, Paul again addresses their imperfect knowledge while also expressing the hope that by means of his letters their knowledge will be perfected (cf. 2 Cor 1.13â14: á¼Î»ÏÎ¯Î¶Ï Î´á½² á½ Ïι á¼ÏÏ ÏÎÎ»Î¿Ï Ï á¼ÏιγνÏÏεÏθε ÎºÎ±Î¸á½¼Ï ÎºÎ±á½¶ á¼ÏÎγνÏÏε á¼¡Î¼á¾¶Ï á¼Ïὸ μÎÏÎ¿Ï Ï). In 1 Corinthians 13, he makes a more general point that âweâ, now including himself, cannot know perfectly from the present perspective (13.9: á¼Îº μÎÏÎ¿Ï Ï Î³á½°Ï Î³Î¹Î½ÏÏκομεν).303 Thus, Paul evidently assumes (at least two) different planes of knowing.
Metaphors from different frames are offered as illustrations: knowing like a child versus knowing with a grown-upâs perspective (13.11) and looking in a mirror versus seeing eye-to-eye (13.12). Looking in a mirror appears to be similar to âknowing in partâ, while âseeing face-to-faceâ appears to be similar to knowing and being known to a greater extent:
When I was a child (νήÏιοÏ), I spoke like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child; when I became an adult, I put an end to childish ways. For now we see in a mirror, in a riddle (βλÎÏομεν Î³á½°Ï á¼ÏÏι διâ á¼ÏÏÏÏÏÎ¿Ï á¼Î½ αἰνίγμαÏι), but then we will see face to face (ÏÏÏε δὲ ÏÏÏÏÏÏον ÏÏá½¸Ï ÏÏÏÏÏÏον). Now I know only in part (á¼ÏÏι γινÏÏÎºÏ á¼Îº μÎÏÎ¿Ï Ï); then I will know fully, even as I have been fully known (ÏÏÏε δὲ á¼ÏιγνÏÏομαι ÎºÎ±Î¸á½¼Ï ÎºÎ±á½¶ á¼ÏεγνÏÏθην). (1 Corinthians 13.11â12)
These contrasts seem pretty straightforward, although there is some debate concerning the referent of the ages of childhood and manhood and the question of when Paul expects temporary types of knowing, such as tongues and prophecy, to cease (roughly, when Scripture is complete or when Christ returns).304 The image of the mirror serves to underline a similar point as in 2 Corinthians, where the image we see âas in a mirrorâ is Christ (2 Cor 3.18: καÏοÏÏÏιζÏμενοι): we behold the divine indirectly, wherefore our knowledge is indirect and imperfect.305 Only here, the indirectness of the mirror is foregrounded, whereas in 2 Cor 3.18, we saw that the transformative aspect of the mirror is important as well.
We saw in the previous subsection that this indirect form of knowing is also indicated as âwalking through faithâ (2 Cor 5.7: διὰ ÏίÏÏεÏÏ Î³á½°Ï ÏεÏιÏαÏοῦμεν). This would confirm that faith is a this-worldly, human type of knowing. It is not knowing in the divine manner, which is knowing âas we are also knownâ (1 Cor 13:12: ÎºÎ±Î¸á½¼Ï ÎºÎ±á½¶ á¼ÏεγνÏÏθην; cf. 1 Cor 8.3: á¼Î³Î½ÏÏÏαι á½Ïâ αá½Ïοῦ; cf. Gal 4.9: γνÏÏθÎνÏÎµÏ á½Ïὸ θεοῦ). While some scholars are reluctant to âstrain interpretationâ by reading the metaphor of the mirror in a Platonic context, the same basic epistemological distinctions are evident in this passage: the divine can now only be seen through the sensible world, in an imperfect way.306 And this is precisely the place of pistis, both in Paulâs reasoning and in Platonic epistemology. It is the highest possible category of knowledge âwhile we are at home in the bodyâ and âaway from the Lordâ (2 Cor 5.6). Within this epistemological semantic domain, pistis serves to indicate knowledge of the earthly, human position, reaching through images towards the divine, through the temporary towards what is everlasting.
In this light, the conclusion of this part of the digression can only be understood as offering the ultimate, lasting status only to âloveâ. Love is the âhigher rankingâ virtue (with a comparative rather than a superlative interpretation of μείζÏν, even though in KoinÄ Greek both are used interchangeably): such a status aparte is probably the most fitting end for a topical digression on love.307 As faith and hope are set on equal footing here, the difficulty of imagining an âeternalâ type of hope (cf. Rom 8.24: á¼Î»Ïá½¶Ï Î´á½² βλεÏομένη οá½Îº á¼ÏÏιν á¼Î»Ïá½·Ï) serves to confirm the this-wordly status of both.308 Moreover, our interpretation saves us from having to distinguish three different uses of pistis language in one coherent passage: pistis as a spiritual gift of moving mountains which will cease together with the other gifts (13.2, cf. 13.8), pisteuÅ as an action or attribute of enduring love (13.7), and pistis as a virtue parallel to love, both belonging to what is everlasting (13.13).309 Instead, by understanding pistis as an epistemological human category, it is found to be temporary as a spiritual gift (13.2), temporary as an earthly action of love (13.7), and temporary as a virtue in contrast to love (13.13). This is not to say that pistis as a whole is absent from Paulâs vision of the eschaton (with God being âall in allâ, cf. 1 Cor 15.28), but that pistis-as-knowledge, pistis within the epistemological semantic domain, is absent. As in the Platonic scheme, pistis is a type of knowledge which is preliminary and this-worldly.
In this concluding subsection, we now return to the verdict of early Christian faith brought into question at the start, the verdict which portrays it as having a low-level epistemological status. For even in the text at handâwhich celebrates the virtues of hope, faith, and loveâscholars find an affirmation of this assessment. This is due to a very similar enumeration of virtues given by Porphyry, who lists âfaith, truth, love, and hopeâ. The addition of truth here is, according to some interpreters, highly significant: it is regarded as a conscious response of Porphyry to the Christian triad, or even to this particular Pauline passage (1 Cor 13.13). Porphyry is not part of our selection of comparative sources due to its later date and Porphyryâs evident contact with the Christian movement. Yet the question whether Paulâs list of faith, hope, and love was seen as a rather fideistic list of virtues already in the fourth century offers a valuable addition and conclusion to this chapter on the intellectual and cognitive aspects of Pauline pistis.
Porphyryâs enumeration is part of a paragraph dealing with our attitude towards God:
There are four first principles that must be upheld concerning Godâfaith, truth, love, hope (ΤÎÏÏαÏα ÏÏοιÏεá¿Î± μάλιÏÏα κεκÏαÏÏÎ½Î¸Ï ÏεÏὶ θεοῦ· ÏίÏÏιÏ, á¼Î»Î®Î¸ÎµÎ¹Î±, á¼ÏÏÏ, á¼Î»ÏίÏ). We must have faith that our only salvation is in turning to God (ÏιÏÏεῦÏαι Î³á½°Ï Î´Îµá¿ á½ Ïι μÏνη ÏÏÏηÏία ἡ ÏÏá½¸Ï Ïὸν θεὸν á¼ÏιÏÏÏοÏή). And having faith, we must strive with all our might to know the truth about God (καὶ ÏιÏÏεÏÏανÏα á½¡Ï á¼Î½Î¹ μάλιÏÏα ÏÏÎ¿Ï Î´Î¬Ïαι Ïá¼Î»Î·Î¸á¿ γνῶναι ÏεÏὶ αá½Ïοῦ). And when we know this, we must love Him we do know (καὶ γνÏνÏα á¼ÏαÏθá¿Î½Î±Î¹ Ïοῦ γνÏÏθÎνÏοÏ). And when we love Him we must nourish our souls on good hopes for our life (á¼ÏαÏθÎνÏα δὲ á¼Î»ÏίÏιν á¼Î³Î±Î¸Î±á¿Ï ÏÏÎÏειν Ïὴν ÏÏ Ïὴν διὰ Ïοῦ Î²Î¯Î¿Ï ), for it is by their good hopes good men are superior to bad ones (á¼Î»ÏίÏι Î³á½°Ï á¼Î³Î±Î¸Î±á¿Ï οἱ á¼Î³Î±Î¸Î¿á½¶ Ïῶν ÏαÏλÏν á½ÏεÏÎÏÎ¿Ï Ïι). Let then these four principles be firmly held (ÏÏοιÏεá¿Î± μὲν οá½Î½ ÏαῦÏα καὶ ÏοÏαῦÏα κεκÏαÏÏνθÏ). (Porphyry, Letter to Marcella 24)310
In this text, Porphyry speaks of pistis as the first âprincipleâ in a personâs relationship with the divine. It is described as a conviction concerning the route to salvation which prompts a turn toward God. This seems to be the type of conviction that the author described in the same treatise as the âknowledge and firm faithâ (διὰ Ïá¿Ï γνÏÏεÏÏ ÎºÎ±á½¶ Ïá¿Ï Î²ÎµÎ²Î±Î¯Î±Ï ÏίÏÏεÏÏ) that God exists and rules everything, which allows people to ultimately attain âa wise mode of life, and know the gods and are known by them (Î¸ÎµÎ¿á½ºÏ Î³Î¹Î½ÏÏκονÏαί Ïε γινÏÏκομÎÎ½Î¿Î¹Ï Î¸ÎµÎ¿á¿Ï).â311Pistis is seen in a markedly positive light in these cases, especially compared to another instance of pistis vocabulary in this very context. For Porphyry also speaks of an irrational type of pistis: âMere unreasoning faith (á¼Î»Î¿Î³Î¿Ï ÏίÏÏιÏ) without right living does not attain to God.â312 The difference between both seems to lie in the absence or presence of a connection between this âfaithâ and the fulfilment of this faith in âknowledgeâ and in living a virtuous life.313
The similarities between Porphyryâs text and Paulâs have not gone unnoticed. One explanation for these similarities put forward by Richard Reitzenstein, which has gained some popularity, is the existence of an early, shared gnostic source that was thought to have been taken over more or less as such by Porphyry (perhaps with âtruthâ instead of a gnostic âknowledgeâ) but adapted by Paul, who changed the word used to express âloveâ (changed á¼ÏÏÏ into á¼Î³á½±Ïη) and omitted âtruthâ (á¼Î»Î®Î¸ÎµÎ¹Î±) or âknowledgeâ (γνÏÏιÏ).314 Evidence for the existence of such a shared source is found in a passage from the Chaldean Oracles, a poetic collection of sayings, popular among Neoplatonists and attributed to a second-century ad mystic, which was probably influenced by earlier gnostic teachings.315 Τhe passage which is commonly referred to by number 46 includes the enumeration âfaith, truth, and loveâ (ÏίÏÏιν κá¼Î»Î®Î¸ÎµÎ¹Î±Î½ καὶ á¼ÏÏÏα), with âhopeâ being spoken of in a related fragment (Oracula Chaldaea 47).316 In the original Chaldean context, these terms appear to be not only virtues but also cosmic entities, connected with the so-called âteletarchsâ, the rulers of different spheres of the cosmos who aid the soul in its ascent.317 According to Reitzenstein, both Paul and his Corinthian audience knew of these teachings and Paul consciously omitted âtruthâ from this well-known saying and supplanted the word used for âloveâ (that is he changed á¼ÏÏÏ into á¼Î³á½±Ïη).
An initial response to Reitzensteinâs position was already given by his contemporary Arnold von Harnack, who ridiculed the omnipresent preconception of Reitzenstein and others that Pauline notions have their roots in the mystery religions, whose existence and teachings can only be deduced from later sources.318 In more recent commentaries such as Fitzmyerâs, the suggestion is also rejected as improbable speculation.319 Other critics argue with similar ease for a different type of intertextuality, often between Paulâs enumeration and Jewish texts such as Wisdom 3.9, where it is said that âthe faithful will remain with Him in loveâ (οἱ ÏιÏÏοὶ á¼Î½ á¼Î³á½±Ïá¿ ÏÏοÏμενοῦÏιν αá½Ïá¿·).320 I have already noted my own objections to the utility of attempting to prove intertextual relationships between specific texts (be they gnostic or Jewish), and I have explained my preference for the approach of mapping wider discourses and explaining a specific authorâs relation to this discourse (see §1.3 above).
More recently, classicists have argued for an intertextual relationship between Porphyry and Paul. Helene Whittaker argues that Porphyryâs enumeration is a direct response to Paulâs variant:
From what isknown of Porphyryâs anti-Christian writings, it is evident that he was very familiar with Paulâs writings. As Paul in the passage in question refers to the imperfectness of human knowledge, it seems probable that in stressing the importance of knowledge of truth for salvation, Porphyry is deliberately pointing to the superiority of philosophical reason over Christian reliance on faith. (Whittaker 2001, 160â161)
Whittaker is not alone in viewing the addition of âtruthâ by Porphyry as anti-Christian polemic.321 Phillippe Hoffmann takes a more balanced approach to the relationship between Paulâs triad and Porphyryâs tetrad, as he argues for a mediated type of intertextuality: he places Oracula Chaldaea 46 in-between Paul and Porphyry as a gnostic (Valentinian) adaptation of Paulâs text.322 Just like Whittaker, however, Hoffmann also attributes to Porphyry a conscious polemic against Christian faith, indicated by the inclusion of the fourth term, âtruthâ.323 He argues that the pistis in Porphyryâs tetrad is an altogether different type: âIt is no longer the âirrational faithâ (á¼Î»Î¿Î³Î¿Ï ÏίÏÏιÏ) denounced before, it is a conviction related to the route to Salvation and it blossoms into knowledge (knowledge of God).â324
The observation by both Whittaker and Hoffman that there is a connection between Porphyry and Paul is an important one. As with Reitzenstein, however, the problem is that establishing the precise ârouteâ of influence cannot be done without a good deal of conjecture. Instead, I would argue, thinking about this relationship as participation in the same discourse offers a more fruitful approach. While the suggestion that Porphyry is responding to Paul either directly or indirectly may not be as speculative as Reitzensteinâs thesis that both referred to the same gnostic source, a direct intertextual connection between Porphyryâs tetrad and Paulâs triad in 1 Corinthians is not as probable here as Whittaker or Hoffmann suggest.
Moreover, the anti-Christian thrust that they both perceive in Porphyryâs tetrad needs a further qualification. Of course, we should take Porphyryâs criticism of the Christian movement into account, as Porphyry wrote an entire treatise against Christians (which only survives fragmentarily). Moreover, the terminology of âunreasonable faithâ was used before Porphyry by others like Celsus (see §4.2.3) to denounce the pistis of the Christians. Yet, is it likely that Porphyryâs tetrad responded to what Paul is saying in 1 Corinthians 13 by consciously adding âtruthâ? I think the answer must be ânoâ.
We have just seen how Paul distinguishes between two types of âknowledgeâ and describes the âhereafterâ in terms of âknowing fully as we are also knownâ. Downplaying âknowledgeâ, or âtruthâ for that matter, is not part of Paulâs account. If anything, Paul is downplaying faith. In a very Platonic fashion, he assigns pistis to the human, worldly level of knowing, yet without separating this level completely from the eternal and divine plane. Just as we saw in Plutarchâs treatment of the term, pistis is what points and guides towards this divine realm. This is perfectly in line with Porphyryâs hierarchy according to which pistis is a first step towards salvation.
In both accounts, pistis is foregrounded as that which first establishes a connection with God.325Pistis is, however, only the beginning of a process of âknowingâ and âlovingâ the divine of which both Paul and Porphyry speak, and it cannot stay âwhen the complete comesâ (1 Cor 13.10). Then, all partial knowledge, including faith-knowledge, âwill come to an end (13.8 and 13.10: καÏαÏγηθήÏεÏαι): it will be taken up into reciprocal knowledge (1 Cor 13.12, cf. Porphyry). Paul and Porphyry seem to agree on this point. Thus, even if Porphyry responded polemically to the adage of faith, hope, and love, it is more probable that it was a loose response to its usage within (and perhaps beyond) the Christian community in Porphyryâs days, rather than a specific response to Paulâs epistemological usage of the adage in 1 Corinthians.326 Or, if Porphyry was indeed âvery familiarâ with Paulâs correspondence with the Corinthians, as Whittaker holds, he appears to have been a poor reader.
If Porphyryâs usage of pistis demonstrates anything in relation to Paul, it may be that pistis gains a more respectable position from Middle Platonism onwards. As part of their anti-Christian polemic, Hoffmann reasons that Neoplatonists after Porphyry self-consciously promoted the virtue of pistis to a higher, philosophical level.327 Proclus turned the Chaldean order around, speaking of âloveâ, âtruthâ, and âfaithâ (with âhopeâ as a mere addendum). Simplicius omits âhopeâ altogether, as it has become synonymous to âfaithâ as the highest level on the path to salvation.328 This Neoplatonic, philosophical-religious âfaithâ is pitted against an irrationally conceived Christian âfaithâ and in effect becomes more and more detached from Platoâs usage as an intermediate level of knowledge. Where the preliminary and intermediate position of pistis is concerned, Paul appears to be more in line with Plato and earlier Platonists than with these Neoplatonic interpretations. Yet rather than âobjectivelyâ confirming the irrationality of Christian faith in these later centuries, it shows how pistis itself becomes more and more contested and differentiated in late antiquity. In these later centuries, there is no general antithesis of faith and reason, but pistis could take the shape of sheer credulity (used to defame oneâs opponents) or the utmost enlightenment (in oneâs own philosophical system).
All in all, rather than setting the stage for a fideistic understanding of Christian faith, these later polemics show that pistis functions in epistemological-religious discourse, understood as a discourse about the connection between limited human knowledge and eternal divine knowledge. In this discourse, terms related to knowledge, faith and love function together to indicate the relationship between a this-worldly existence and the divine. Both Paul and Porphyry participated in this discourse, whose foundation was and continued to be sought in Platoâs outline of cognitive stages. Read in this light, the list of virtues in 1 Corinthians 13.13 consists of such epistemological-religious virtues. Faith, hope, and love represent the cognitive steps available to mortal human beings in their journey towards âknowing as we are also knownâ. In this enumeration, pistis is limited and this-worldly, yet far from irrational or fideistic.
4.5 Conclusion
In this chapter, I reviewed pistisâs reputation for being irrational. We saw that throughout the Platonic tradition, from Parmenides to Plutarch, pistis functions to differentiate or substantiate knowledge claimsânot to fideistically oppose them. Instead of pistis being used as the opposite of knowledge, Parmenides already used it in opposition to âopinion of mortalsâ, which allowed it to become connected to ultimate, transcendent knowledge as its human correlate. While there are higher types of cognition in the Platonic scheme, there is reason to believe that Plato believed that these were beyond a mortal humanâs grasp, leaving pistis (or more precisely the subtype of âcorrect pistisâ which appears to be an indirect type of knowledge) as the best type humanly attainable.
For those following in Platoâs footsteps, pistis terminology appears to lose some of its technical limitations as a specific type of knowledge. Aristotle, perhaps due to his more positive view of sense-perception, does not hesitate to speak of logos-based pistis and even of pistis brought about by the first principles which, if reasoned and substantiated, amounts to full knowledge. In Philoâs works, pistis first emerges as the proper cognitive attitude towards God, which may partly be attributed to the crucial role it fulfils in some passages in the Septuagint, yet which is also in line with developments in the philosophy and theology of his days, with its increasing focus on the inaccessibility of the transcendent: pistis offered the perfect, reasonable cognitive mode to engage with ultimate reality (to a certain extent that is, since the gap between humans and God remains). For Plutarch, the ontological connection between the sensible and the ultimate realm (the idea that what can be seen is a copy of what truly âisâ in the proper sense) provides a route through which one may gain access to the divine. More than Plato or Aristotle, Plutarch uses pistis regularly in religious contexts, not to offer a fideistic shortcut, but to denote the mean between superstitious belief in anything and sceptical rejection of divine providence and divine knowability. In this manner, it becomes the ultimate category to bridge Platonic dualism between the sensible and the intelligible, the earthly and the divine existence.
Nevertheless, notwithstanding the increasing usage of pistis with the divine as its object, pistis always remained a very âearthlyâ (or perhaps âgroundedâ) category of knowledge and kept a sense of uncertainty, of human error. Within these Graeco-Roman epistemological discourses, pistis identifies a penultimate, provisional, and human grasp of divine knowledge. From this perspective, we can imagine that second-century pagan intellectuals frowned when they saw Christians from all layers of society boasting about possessing a type of pistis that reached the divine yet which was, at least by their criteria, not properly substantiated and was brought about by the bypass of divine grace.329 The argument made by Origen that there is unsubstantiated faith for âcommonersâ and substantiated faith for the learned members of the Christian community fits the semantics of pistis in the second and third centuries, as both Galen and Lucian testify to the need for a further explication of its level of substantiation.
In Paulâs letters, however, there is yet to be a precise stratification in pistis, presumably because it was not quite as contested as an epistemological category in Paulâs intellectual world. In fact, there is no trace of pistis, particularly pistis Christou, implying anything less than the reasonable human gateway to knowledge of God. It is not contrasted with reason or knowledge (on the contrast with wisdom, see the next chapter: §5.4.2). It is, however, contrasted with sight (in 2 Cor 5.7) and to love (in 1 Cor 13.13): these contrasts point to an epistemological dualism in Paul similar to what we encounter in the Platonic discourses. Sight and love act as more-than-earthly means of engaging with the divine, in Platonic and Pauline thought alike, even if Paulâs idea of the ultimate is temporally (or, eschatologically) rather than spatially configured. In the present, as a human epistemological category, Paulâs pistis remains indirect (as in a mirror), provisional, and vulnerable, yet at the same time capable of growth and ultimately secured by the guarantee of Christâs âamenâ, his enduring commitment to both God and his followers. As in Platoâs Republic and in Philoâs Who Is the Heir, pistis is only as firm as the object it is placed in and whose stability it mirrors or appropriates. The indirectness of pistis-knowledge, its dependence on external, certain knowledge, thus explains why Paul often uses pistis in active connection with the divine (Christ, the gospel, the promise, the power of God), even in passages that foreground the semantic domain of human mentality and conviction.
All in all, if we take both the subtleties and the overall thrust of these epistemological discourses into account, we are able to overcome the modern dichotomy that is often postulated between faith and knowledge. In the ancient world, this antithesis proves to be out of place. In the next chapter, we take a closer look at some other, related antitheses between cognitive and relational faith and between faith and human persuasion, whereby some other philosophical schools, in particular the Epicurean and Stoic branches, offer important insights for understanding Pauline pistis in this related semantic domain. In these schools, pistis is more often used to describe a fundamental mental attitude than a category of knowledge and knowing, but even more obviously than in Platonic thought, it is connected to higher cognitive spheres as it is a quality of âthe wiseâ.
Badiou 2003, 45.
Boghossian 2013, 23.
According to Boghossian, the use of faith as trust is not relevant for understanding religious faith, since this is ânot how the faithful use the word âfaithâ in religious contextsâ (2013, 210).
McKaughan 2013.
Buchak 2012, 244.
Quoted from Peters 1967, 160. See also Urmson 1990, 135, who lists â(1) Beliefâ and â(2) A less than demonstrative truthâ. For a critical reflection on Urmsonâs second meaning, see §4.3.3 below.
Morgan 2015, 193.
Schliesser 2017b, 11.
Hagen Pifer 2019b, 74. Hagen Pifer considers Plutarchâs usage to be an exception to this Platonic tradition; cf. at 83: âPlutarch viewed pistis as being a firm foundation from which to view the world, even critiquing those who would demand proofs for faith. Paul makes an even stronger case for a rational basis of faith.â
See Barnes 2014, 41â42, who rejects this connection (p. 42: âin fact none of the authors who attacked Christianity alludes, even implicitly, to Platonic ÏίÏÏιÏâ). Barnes also holds that Christians never used it in this specific Platonic sense, on which cf. §4.4.3â4 infra.
LSJ, s.v. ÏίÏÏιÏ. The reference to 1 Cor 13.13 is a later specification in the 1940 edition of the earlier general reference to the New Testament in the 1889 âintermediateâ edition of LSJ.
Kinneavy 1987, 17. Kinneavyâs solution is that in early Christianity, a transferral took place of aspects of the process-type of pistis to the product-type of pistis. See on the rhetorical semantic domain of pistis chapter 5 and on Kinneavy §5.2.3 below.
Kinneavy 1987, 20.
See §4.2 below. This is what Mark A. Seifrid suggests (2018, 248, n. 17). While I share his overall plea for a philosophical contextualisation of pistis, in this chapter, I do so by discussing early Christian pistis in continuity with rather than in opposition to the Platonic tradition.
Even though in most chapters, I discuss discourses based on a variety of philosophical schools, here I have chosen to focus solely on Platonism, as it is in Platonic discourses that pistis functions most clearly as a specific knowledge category and this Platonist usage (particularly the usage by Plato and Plutarch) is then used to ascribe a certain fideism (faith moving beyond its proper sensible object, or an irrational faith) to Paul and the early Christians.
Judge 2008c, 681.
Cf. Walzer 1949, 51: âfor them [philosophers and educated Greeks] ÏίÏÏÎ¹Ï is mainly the habitual state of mind of the ordinary man; true beliefs can be held without knowledge and may be sufficient guides for action (â¦) but they remain insecure intil based on rational knowledge.â
Fox 1986, 31.
Whittaker 2001, 157, cf. at 157â158: âFrom a Neoplatonic perspective, the Christian reliance on salvation by faith alone without endeavour could only be regarded as intellectual laziness, as was also their inability to provide a rational foundation for their beliefsâ; Schröder 2011.
Schröder 2011, 224: âMit den wesentlichen Einwänden, die die Aufklärer gegen das Christentum erhoben, befanden sie sich in substantieller Ãbereinstimmung mit ihren spätantiken Vorgängern, die als Zeitgenossen über das Christentum urteilten.â
âUnd doch sind die Heiden im Rechtâund befinden sich im Einklang mit christlichen Autoren ihrer Epocheâ, wenn sie als eine wesentliche Komponente der christlichen pistis die Zustimmung (ÏÏ Î³ÎºÎ±ÏάθεÏιÏ) zu Aussagen, also zu âLehren (δÏγμαÏα)â wie der von der Gottessohnschaft Jesu oder der Auferstehung des Leibes gesondert ins Visier nehmenâ.
Schröder 2011, 223: âDie christlichen Lehren und ihr biblisches Fundament wurden, so heiβt es immer wieder, auf dat Prokrustesbett moderner Rationalitätsstandards und des neuzeitlichen Weltbildes gezwungen und damit missverstanden und verfehlt. (â¦) Diese Gemeinplätze, der Anachronismusvorwurf und der Topos vom mangelnden historischen Bewusstsein der Aufklärer sind nicht aufrechtzuhalten.â
Schröder 2011, esp. 88â110, â>alogos pistis<: >blinder Glaube<â.
Karamanolis (2014, 118) names Galen, Lucian, Celsus, and Porphyry in this context. I agree with his judgement that âwhat they sneer at is not the fact that Christian believe certain things but rather that they do not give proofs in support of them.â Unfortunately, though, he partly endorses their judgement based on an unnecessarily fideistic interpretation of 2 Cor 1.22â23.
For a discussion, cf. Berchman 2005. However, Berchman includes many disputed fragments that might come from the Apocriticus by the fifth-century Macarius Magnes. On the difficulties in reconstructing Porphyryâs anti-Christian polemics, see Magny 2014.
De differentiis pulsuum 2.4 (Kühn 2011 [1821], 8.579; Walzer 1949, 14, ref. 4). This contrast allows Edwin A. Judge (2008g, 724; 2015, 30â31) to argue that the Christians adopted a radical new epistemology, even though this was not recognized by the classicizing patristic authors. Walzer (1949, 48) notes that Galenâs remark does not imply that logical demonstration is unattainable for Christians, should they be willing to study Peripatetic logic.
Walzer 1949, 14, ref. 5, Originally from Galen, Îá¼°Ï Ïὸ ÏÏῶÏον κινοῦν á¼Îºá½·Î½Î·Ïον, translation Walzer 1949, 14â15. On the origin and transmission of the Arabic passages, see his appendix 4, 87â98.
Nevertheless, Walzer (1949, 43, 44) emphasizes the actual differences between the Christian âreligionâ and philosophical schools: âGalen is, as far as I can see, the first pagan author who implicitly places Greek philosophy and the Christian religion on the same footing. (â¦) This rash equation (â¦) was bound to produce curious misunderstandings on both sides.â Cf. at 51: âit would be natural (â¦) for Galenâs contemporaries to mistake a religion of this unusual kind for a new philosophical school.â Gathercole 2017, 294 understands this description as âby no means necessarily a ringing endorsementâ, as Galen himself was trained in different schools and happy with his independence.
Galen, De differentiis pulsuum 3.3 (Kühn 2011 [1821], 8.657; Walzer 1949, 14, ref. 3) and a text preserved with some variations in different Arabic sources originally from Galenâs ΠλαÏÏνικῶν διαλÏγÏν ÏÏ Î½á½¹ÏÎµÎ¹Ï (Walzer 1949, 15, ref. 6) respectively.
The importance of proper âdemonstrationâ is emphasized by Gathercole (Gathercole 2017, 296): âHis criticism of Christiansâ indifference to proof is, for Galen personally, an absolutely fundamental errorâespecially for him, as the author of a work On Demonstration in fifteen volumes.â
Translation De Lacy 1980 (with minor adaptations).
Cf., for a similar conclusion, Barnes 2014, 43: âthey did not mean to suggest that faith is in itself irrational, or that it corresponds to a bare assertion.â Barnes observes that pagans objected to faith because it cannot be based on a specific type of explanatory proof, while also discussing the varied Christian responses to this objection (46â59) and the strict nature of Aristotleâs conditions for proof (p. 50), conditions that were met by neither Christians nor pagans.
As one Epicurean actually endeavours further on in the same treatise (at 44â45).
Morgan 2015 esp. 41â42, 144, 149â150, 161, 162, 455.
Morgan 2015, 144, 148â150.
On pistis in Celsusâs thought on worship, see Morgan 2021, 162â169, esp. at 168: âCelsusâ discussions of Ïá½·ÏÏÎ¹Ï add complexity and nuance to his commitment to reason, by recognizing that cult practice and religiosity involve cognitive and interpersonal trust as well as belief, that the two are intimately connected, and that both trust and belief are based on multiple foundations which often interact.â Here, I focus on his evaluation of Christian pistis.
Text edition Chadwick 1953, translation Crombie 1885.
Origen, Against Celsus 1.9.
Origen, Against Celsus 3.18.
Cf. on this strategy in Theodoretus Barnes 2014, 51â53.
Origen, Against Celsus 3.72.
Cf. Le Boulluec 2005, 73: âSi la âfoiâ se trouve ainsi pourvue dâune stabiliteÌ qui eÌtait lâapanage de lâ âintellectionâ pour Platon, la âsensationâ, qui eÌtait le mode cognitif propre aÌ la âfoiâ platonicienne, est eÌleveÌe au rang de faculteÌ de connaissance la plus haute.â
Cf. also Origen, Against Celsus 2.27.
Cf. the analysis by George Boys-Stones, for which he builds on Origenâs teacher Clement of Alexandria and Justin Martyr: âChristians, then, enter the debate with philosophers quite deliberately, casting themselves as opponentsâspecifically, as a school which has an approach that can offer superior philosophical understanding. As such, it can claim to subordinate Platonism, as Platonism in turn claims to subordinate Aristotelianism, Stoicism, and the restâand so to make it irrelevant. Celsus knew this. (â¦) Celsusâs own views (â¦) point to the broader diffusion of divinity through the universe, especially though divine intermediariesâthe condition, in Platonist philosophy, for ascent to the intelligibles without the need for revelationâ (Boys-Stones 2019, 277â278).
On the increasing awareness that this picture of early Christianity is a caricature, see the references offered by Jan Bremmer (2017, 26, n. 68).
Schröder 2011, 92.
This squandering of philosophical knowledge on the uninstructed masses is one of the main points of Celsusâs critique according to Peter van Nuffelen (2011, 224â226). Though cf. Morgan 2021, 175: âApparently Celsus thinks that some theological teaching is appropriate, even for ordinary people.â
Benitez & Tarrant 2015, 220.
On the reception of Plato in the first century BC, cf. Hatzimichali 2013, 1â11, esp. p. 10: âit is evident that it [Platoâs text] had a rich transmission, gaining the attention of philosophers and non-philosophers alike as a mainstream part of Greek cultural heritage, with recognised literary value and high-quality Attic prose.â
Tronier 2001.
Klostergaard Petersen 2017a. We have already briefly commented upon the value of this approach in our introductory chapter (see §1.3.2). Cf., on Platonic religion as a form of axial age religion, Klostergaard Petersen 2017b.
The following sources have been collected by using the TLG proximity search option, combining keywords such as βεβαι-, αÏλ-, ακÏοÏαÏ-, ιÏÏÏ Ï-, γνÏÏ-, εÏιÏÏημ-, and ÏιÏÏ-.
According to TomaÌs Calvo (1977, esp. p. 255), Parmenides does not endorse a strong epistemic duality between mind/truth and opinion, but a duality in types of language, namely between logos and epos. The epistemic interpretation, however, remained the mainstream interpretation of Parmenidesâs poem ever since Plato. For an epistemic interpretation of Parmenides as precursor to Plato, see e.g. Plutarch, Reply to Colotes 1114CâF.
As preserved in Plutarch, Reply to Colotes 1114F; Diogenes Laertius, Lives 9.22; Theophrastus, The Opinions of the Natural Philosophers 6a; Sextus Empiricus, Against the Mathematicians 7.111, 7.114, translation Burnet 1892.
Parmenides, On Nature B 8.28 (Ïá½·ÏÏÎ¹Ï á¼Î»Î·Î¸á½µÏ) and B 8.50: âHere shall I close my trustworthy speech and thought about the truthâ (á¼Î½ Ïá¿· Ïοι ÏÎ±á½»Ï ÏιÏÏὸν λόγον ἠδὲ νόημα á¼Î¼Ïá½¶Ï á¼Î»Î·Î¸Îµá½·Î·Ï).
Finkelberg 1988, 66. See chapter 5 infra, esp. §5.3.1 and §5.3.2, on pistis and persuasion.
Bontempi 2013, see chapters 1 and 2 on Parmenides and cf. p. 52, where she describes how unlike persuasion, pistis ensures a âmodello relazionale contrapposto a quello disposizionale che apre al molteplice e al divenireâ.
See Torgerson 2006, 35; Palmer 1999, 25, n. 16. On Parmenidesâs dependence on and deviation from Xenophanes, see Palmer 1999, 25â26.
Torgerson 2006, 40.
Torgerson 2006, 40. Pace Mark Edwards, who reads âpistosâ in Parmenides as attesting to âthe celestial origin of the poetâs theory (â¦) it is used to browbeat the reader, rather than to introduce a persuasive train of reasoning.â See his chapter on âPistis and Platonismâ, forthcoming in Teresa Morgan and Barbara Kowalzig. Thinking about Thinking Gods: Beliefs and Conceptions of the Divine in the Ancient World. Oxford: Oxford University Press.
This is one of the main theses of Betegh 2004, who also maintains that the author is a priestly figure, involved in the performance of Orphic rituals of which he gives an account (see i.a. at 350). Cf. for discussion Kouremenos, ParaÌssoglou & Tsantsanoglou 2006, 51.
See Lebedev 1989, 42.
Text and translation Betegh 2004, 12â13. See for Burkertâs translation, Burkert 2014, 118, and for Jankoâs text and translation, Janko 2002, 10â11.
Burkert 2014, 108, and at 109: âthrough á¼ÏιÏÏίη men block their own chances of knowledge; they should just look instead, and pay attention. (â¦) The Heraclitus parallel suggests a similar understanding even for our author: there are things to be seen and to be learned which escape many people on account of disbelief.â
Burkert 2014, 108.
See Betegh 2004, 90, n. 50 and for the quote, Betegh 2004, 360.
Palmer 1999, 17â30, chapter 2: âEschatology and Epistemologyâ.
According to Schunack (1999, 314), this demotion of pistis was due to its historical-personal character centred on faith in divine oracles, and to the elevation of the gods in philosophical circles to the immaterial and eternal realm.
In an article on Plutarchâs epistemology, I have outlined three different positions on Platoâs adherence to the two-worlds theory: Sierksma-Agteres 2015a, 59â60. For the three positions in question, see Fine 1990 and Fine 1978; Gonzalez 1996; Smith 2000.
Taglia 1998. The first part of this work pertains to the evaluation of pistis and persuasion (ÏείθÏ, Ïείθομαι) in the city-state and in diverse political climates and will hence be taken up in chapter 5 on persuasion (§5.3.2 infra).
The analogy of the divided line is well known in Platonic circles in later centuries, cf. e.g. Plutarch (early second century AD) and Alcinous (mid-second century AD). Plutarch, Platonic Questions 3 (devoted to the question which of the two main segments of the line is larger), 1001D: âto each of the four he assigns its own peculiar criterion: intelligence to the first and thought to the mathematical segment (νοῦν μὲν Ïá¿· ÏÏá½½Ïῳ διάνοιαν δὲ Ïá¿· μαθημαÏικῷ) and to the perceptibles belief (Ïοá¿Ï δ᾿ αἰÏθηÏοá¿Ï Ïá½·ÏÏιν) and conjecture to matters of images and semblances (εἰκαÏίαν δὲ Ïοá¿Ï ÏεÏὶ Ïá½° εἴδÏλα καὶ Ïá½°Ï Îµá¼°Îºá½¹Î½Î±Ï).â Alcinous, Epitome doctrinae Platonicae 7.5, 162.17â19, translation Dillon 1993, 15: âHe also postulates the existence of âbeliefâ and âconjectureâ (καὶ ÏίÏÏιν καὶ εἰκαÏίαν). Of these, belief relates to sense-objects (Ïῶν αἰÏθηÏῶν), while conjecture is of images and reflections (Ïῶν εἰκÏνÏν καὶ εἰδÏλÏν).â
Plato is not entirely consistent in the names of the sections, which might be facetiously on purpose, for at the beginning of the passage on the divided ine, he remarks that he does not want to be seen as splitting hairs over a name (509d: ÏοÏίζεÏθαι ÏεÏὶ Ïὸ á½Î½Î¿Î¼Î±). At Republic 533eâ534a, the top section is called knowledge (á¼ÏιÏÏήμη) and the combination of knowledge and thought is called understanding (νÏηÏιÏ).
Cf. 509d: âand you will have in the first segment of the visible section images in relation to each other by their clarity or obscurity (ÏαÏηνείᾳ καὶ á¼ÏαÏείᾳ ÏÏá½¸Ï á¼Î»Î»Î·Î»Î±)â; 511e: âand put them in proportion according as you think each contains a measure of clarity (ÏαÏÎ·Î½Îµá½·Î±Ï Î¼ÎµÏá½³Ïειν) to the degree that its objects contain a measure of truth (á¼Î»Î·Î¸Îµá½·Î±Ï μεÏá½³Ïειν)â.
Storey 2022. The author kindly allowed me to read his unfinished draft, dated February 2016.
A direct textual witness to this underlying principle is 510a: âAnd would you be willing to agree that the division of truth to falsehood (á¼Î»á½µÎ¸ÎµÎ¹Î± καὶ μή) is in this ratio: as opinion is to knowledge (á½¡Ï Ïὸ δοξαÏÏὸν ÏÏá½¸Ï Ïὸ γνÏÏÏόν), thus resemblance is to what it resembles (οá½ÏÏ Ïὸ á½Î¼Î¿Î¹Ïθὲν ÏÏá½¸Ï Ïὸ ᾧ ὡμοιώθη)?â, which could be rephrased as c+d: a+b = image: original.
Cf. Plato, Phaedrus 250b: âbut only a few, approaching the images through the darkling organs of sense, behold in them the nature of that which they imitate (θεῶνÏαι Ïὸ Ïοῦ εἰκαÏθένÏÎ¿Ï Î³á½³Î½Î¿Ï), and these few do this with difficultyâ.
Plato, Timaeus 37bâc.
Plato, Laws 730bâc.
Plato, Cratylus 437a.
Cf. also Edwards forthcoming: âPistis is thus not only an uncritical assent to the phenomena but an incipient perception of the reality behind them; the seen is an indispensable propaedeutic to the contemplation of that which transcends all seeing.â On the principle distinction yet factual proximity of the larger categories of doxa and epistÄmÄ/noÄsis, see Trabattoni 2016, 23â24.
On the relationship of this pattern of original-image to the ethical process of homoiÅsis, see chapter 5, §5.3.4 infra.
I owe this suggestion to a paper by Antonio Cimino, âPistis and Truthâ, presented and discussed on 9 April 2015 in a meeting of our NWO-funded research group âPauline Pistis in Contemporary Philosophyâ.
My translation of: âAÌ cette place intermeÌdiaire sur le plan ontologique correspond logiquement un niveau ou un degreÌ intermeÌdiaire quant au mode de connaissanceâcelui de la Ïá½·ÏÏÎ¹Ï par rapport aÌ lâá¼Î»á½µÎ¸ÎµÎ¹Î±. On pourrait dire aussi que, de meÌme que les dieux de la tradition sont le reflet, sur un plan infeÌrieur, du Divin absolu, de meÌme lâincertitude en ce qui les concerne reÌpond, en quelque façon, aÌ la difficulteÌ de percevoir le Principe supreÌme, lâIdeÌe du Bien. (â¦) Quoi quâon en ait dit, il nây a pas de conflit entre raison et foi, car lâune et lâautre conservent leur valeur, mais sur des plans diffeÌrents.â
If we look at the Stoa, for example, similar caution is taken. See e.g. Inwood 2002, 147 on Seneca: âWe cannot, he claims, have knowledge of god, the foundation of all things. (â¦) This theological language is not anti-empirical, nor is it anti-rational. (â¦) A properly pious appreciation of the relationship of human nature to the divine will induce us to be epistemically modest and to anticipate (itself quite a rational view) that progress in the explanation of the natural world will be cumulative and slow.â
Trabattoni 2016, 140. For references to other proponents of the so-called âthird wayâ interpretation of Plato, between scepticism and dogmatism, see his note 38 on pp. 159â160.
Trabattoni 2016, 162. Cf. for the second century reception of this idea Alcinousâs definition of philosophy as âstriving for wisdom (á½ÏÎµÎ¾Î¹Ï ÏοÏίαÏ) (â¦) and wisdom is the knowledge of things divine and human (á¼ÏιÏÏήμη θείÏν καὶ á¼Î½Î¸ÏÏÏίνÏν ÏÏαγμάÏÏν)â in Alcinous, Epitome doctrinae Platonicae 1.1, 152.2â6, translation Dillon 1993, 3. The latter definition of wisdom may be Stoic rather than Platonic in origin: cf. Brouwer 2014, 9â18.
See e.g. Dörrie 1996, 22â38. In Stoic thought both meanings occur: cf. Brouwer 2014, 42â43.
Cf. Osborne 1996, 93â94: âIgnorance is a well-known Socratic characteristic, but it is peculiarly relevant here given that as the analysis proceeds we shall find love identified with the philosopherâs desire for wisdom; that desire, we are persuaded, cannot occur in one who is already wise, but only in one who lacks wisdom. Only if one lacks can one love, and hence Eros, the archetype of the lover and the philosopher, must be one who lacks both wisdom and beauty. Socrates, like Eros, is notorious for being one who lacks wisdom and desires the knowledge that he lacks.â
Scott & Welton 2009, 186, cf. also at 186: âThe fact that Socrates embodies EroÌs is connected with his being a master in the art of EroÌs. (â¦) To say that he knows EroÌs is another way of talking about his human wisdom, his awareness of his own ignorance, since this awareness is inseparable from his longing for wisdom. Philosophic EroÌs implies that one senses oneâs own ignorance, oneâs lack of and need for wisdom; yet understanding EroÌs is the basis for philosophic insight into human nature. (â¦) In the case of Platoâs Socrates, Socratesâs awareness of his ignorance is inseparable from some partial recollection of the Forms.â
Plato, Symposium 211c.
Plato, Gorgias 454d, Republic 601e, Gorgias 454d, and Gorgias 454e respectively.
Plato, Gorgias 454c.
Plato, Gorgias 454dâe. This passage (â455a) is also interesting for its usage of various pist- cognates, all belonging to the epistemological semantic field of pistis: ÏεÏιÏÏÎµÏ Îºá½³Î½Î±Î¹, Ïá½·ÏÏιÏ, ÏεÏιÏÏÎµÏ Îºá½¹ÏεÏ, Ïὸ ÏιÏÏεύειν, ÏιÏÏÎµÏ Ïικá¿Ï, ÏειÏÏικὸÏ.
Cf. Trabattoni 2016, 38: âSo, when Plato draws a distinction between teaching and persuasion, as in the Phaedrus passage above (277e8â9) or in Tim. 51e, the real difference lies between the fleeting persuasion achieved by orators, poets, and sophists, and the far more lasting persuasion aroused by the philosopher.â
Taglia 1998, 142: âLa giaÌ osservata caratterizzazione della pistis come una credenza priva di garanzie di veritaÌ ha dunque come risvolto la contraposizione, giustificata sul piano delle procedure, con lâepisteme.â
Taglia 1998, 159 (translation my own): âPistis ed episteme non sono quindi nella repubblica fasi di ogni singolo atto conoscitivo, ma livelli di pensiero che possono costituire la dimensione dellâ intera vita di un uomo.â
Van Ophuijsen 2000, 124.
For this argument, I make use of the traditional interpretation of the cave allegory, according to which the four segments of the divided line analogy are linked to four different stages in the assent out of the cave: from seeing the shadows on the wall, to distinguishing the objects lit by the fire themselves, to discerning the objects outside the cave lit by the sun, and ultimately beholding the sun itself. An interesting insight into a possible meaning of pistis in the cave is offered by Corrinne Praus Sze (1977), who argued that pistis is the ultimate sophistic trait: it moves beyond sense perception (the level of knowledge of poets and ordinary people) to knowledge of real phenomena. According to Praus Sze, however, Plato did not consider pistis to be a necessary step in the ascent to epistemÄ.
Taglia 1998, 44 (translation my own): âla pistis rappresenta un contatto con la divinitaÌ non mediato dalla legge, che consente di comprendere e garantire la conformitaÌ delle leggi della polis allâordine cosmicoâ.
My translation of: âLa pistis eÌ percioÌ ancora, in questâultima fase, uno stato inferiore allâepisteme, che dallâepisteme riceve garanzie. PoicheÌ peroÌ ora, a differenza salla Repubblica, il sapere offetto di pistis eÌ un sapere divino, il rapporto della pistis con il sapere umano eÌ cambiato. Lâepisteme umana collabora con la pistis e la rende possibile, ma proprio la dua compatibilitaÌ con la pistis segnala il limite del sapere umano, la sua mancanze di autonomia.â
Moss 2014, 236.
Moss 2014, 221.
Cf. for a different view Morgan 2015, 152: âIts [pistisâs] problem is not the process by which it draws conclusions, which may be fully rational, but the data it uses to do so, which are of poor quality because they come from the physical world, along with the decision to use such data, which shows that one has not grasped the illusory nature of this world.â
Eikasia is also replaced by aisthÄsis, and the higher faculties are alternately called epistÄmÄ, nous, or dianoia. See Aristotle, On the Soul 428a5: αἴÏθηÏιÏ, δόξα, á¼ÏιÏÏήμη, νοῦÏ; Metaphysics 1074b35: ἡ á¼ÏιÏÏήμη καὶ ἡ αἴÏθηÏÎ¹Ï ÎºÎ±á½¶ ἡ δόξα καὶ ἡ διάνοια.
E.g. Posterior Analytics 2.3.90b14 (âInduction too affords sufficient grounds for this position (ἱκανὴ δὲ Ïá½·ÏÏÎ¹Ï ÎºÎ±á½¶ á¼Îº Ïá¿Ï á¼ÏαγÏγá¿Ï)â). See §5.3.1 below.
Aristotle, Nicomachean Ethics 7.3.4 (1146b27â30): âif weakness of conviction be the criterion for deciding that men who act against their conception of what is right must be said to opine rather than to know the right (εἰ οá½Î½ διὰ Ïὸ á¼ ÏÎμα ÏιÏÏεÏειν οἱ δοξάζονÏÎµÏ Î¼á¾¶Î»Î»Î¿Î½ Ïῶν á¼ÏιÏÏαμÎνÏν ÏαÏá½° Ïὴν á½ÏÏληÏιν ÏÏÎ¬Î¾Î¿Ï Ïιν), there will really be no difference in this respect between Opinion and Knowledge (οá½Î¸á½²Î½ διοίÏει á¼ÏιÏÏήμη δÏξηÏ); since some men are just as firmly convinced of what they opine as others are of what they know (á¼Î½Î¹Î¿Î¹ Î³á½°Ï ÏιÏÏεÏÎ¿Ï Ïιν οá½Î´á½²Î½ ἧÏÏον Î¿á¼·Ï Î´Î¿Î¾Î¬Î¶Î¿Ï Ïιν á¼¢ á¼ÏεÏοι Î¿á¼·Ï á¼ÏίÏÏανÏαι)â.
See Topics 126b17â20: â[A]mazement is generally regarded (δοκεá¿) as excessive astonishment and conviction as intensified apprehension (ἡ Ïá½·ÏÏÎ¹Ï á½ÏόληÏÎ¹Ï ÏÏοδÏá½±), so that astonishment and apprehension are the genus (á½¥ÏÏε Î³á½³Î½Î¿Ï á¼¡ Î¸Î±Ï Î¼Î±ÏιόÏÎ·Ï ÎºÎ±á½¶ ἡ á½ÏόληÏιÏ), while excess and intensification are the differentia.â
For his definition of δÏξα as involving λÏγοÏ, Aristotle is probably indebted to Plato (Theaetetus 189eâ190a; Sophist 263e ff.), wherefore by λÏγοÏ, he means rational deliberation within the soul, not with others: see Sorabji 1995, 200.
(Pseudo-)Simplicius, On Aristotleâs De Anima 3.3 (on On the Soul 428a18), translation is my own. The same definition of pistis is found in some manuscripts of the treatise On Emotions, falsely attributed to Andronicus of Rhodes: á¼ÎºÎ¿Î»Î¿Ï θεῠδὲ ÏῠδικαιοÏÏνῠκαὶ ἡ á½ÏιÏÏÎ·Ï ÎºÎ±á½¶ ἡ á¼Î»Î®Î¸ÎµÎ¹Î± καὶ <ἡ> ÏίÏÏÎ¹Ï ÎºÎ±á½¶ ἡ μιÏοÏονηÏία. [á¼ÏÏι δὲ ÏίÏÏÎ¹Ï á¼¡ á½¡Ï á¼Î»Î·Î¸Îµá¿ Ïá¿· γνÏÏθÎνÏι ÏÏ Î³ÎºÎ±ÏάθεÏιÏ.] (Pseudo-Andronicus of Rhodes, Peri pathoÌn 2.8.3). For the critical edition, see Glibert-Thirry 1977, 257.
On Aristotleâs use of pistis here, see also Gerson 2009, 82: âConviction [i.e. pistis] requires that one affirm or deny a combination of thoughts as representing reality. It requires, we might say, a propositional attitude.â
Pace Urmson (1990, 135) who claims that pistis means âa less than demonstrative proofâ based on Aristotleâs Posterior Analytics 90b14, quoted above, which is translated/paraphrased as âthe proof from induction is sufficientâ, whereas pistis is obviously used not in a technical epistemological, but rhetorical sense there, and the whole phrase reads, â[i]nduction too affords sufficient grounds for holding that definition and demonstration are not the sameâ.
Aristotle, On the Heavens 270b12â18.
Cf. §2.4.4 supra.
Aristotle, Posterior Analytics 1.1.71a5â12: âSimilarly too with logical arguments, whether syllogistic or inductive (ÏεÏὶ ÏÎ¿á½ºÏ Î»á½¹Î³Î¿Ï Ï Î¿á¼µ Ïε διὰ ÏÏ Î»Î»Î¿Î³Î¹Ïμῶν καὶ οἱ δι᾿ á¼ÏαγÏγá¿Ï); both effect instruction by means of facts already recognized, the former making assumptions as though granted by an intelligent audience, and the latter proving the universal from the self-evident nature of the particular. The means by which rhetorical arguments (οἱ ῥηÏοÏικοὶ) carry conviction are just the same; for they use either examples, which are a kind of induction (á¼¢ Î³á½°Ï Î´Î¹á½° ÏαÏαδειγμάÏÏν, á½ á¼ÏÏιν á¼ÏαγÏγή), or enthymemes, which are a kind of syllogism.â
Aristotle, Physics 262a19â20.
Cf. Aristotle, Posterior Analytics 1.2.71b20â25. Yet cf. Barnes 2014, 43â45, who sharply differentiates between syllogisms that offer explanatory proof and hence knowledge and syllogisms that do not and and offer (reasonable) faith.
Aristotle, Topics 100a27â31.
Cf. Barnes 2014, 55â57 for a discussion of Clementâs and Theodoretusâ (lack of) understanding of Aristotleâs use of pistis as directed towards the first principles.
The context here is the nature of phronÄsis.
Aristotle, Nicomachean Ethics 6.8.6â7 (1142a19â20).
Frazier strongly separates such Aristotelian usage of pistis from Platoâs, yet while I would grant that for the most part Aristotleâs usage is best understood within the semantic domain of persuasion (my chapter 5), I still see strong connections to Platoâs usage of pistis as a hierarchical category of knowledge. Cf. Frazier 2017, 194: âSuch a notion of ÏίÏÏÎ¹Ï has nothing to do with ÏίÏÏÎ¹Ï as a Platonic δÏξα that is inferior to knowledge.â
Pseudo-Aristotle, On the Cosmos 399a31â33.
On the date, see Forster & Furley 1955, 340.
Clement of Alexandria, Miscellanies 2.4.13, translation Roberts & Donaldson 1869. On Clementâs defence of pistis as a valid epistemological mode, see Wyss 2017.
By moving from Aristotle to Philo of Alexandria, I am well aware of leaping over the important phase of Hellenistic philosophy, including, among others, the schools of the sceptical Academy, Epicureanism, and Stoicism. These philosophical traditions, however, will be addressed more fully in the next chapter, in which the epistemological perspective on pistis is expanded to include persuasive and relational elements.
There has been much debate regarding the philosophical school to which Philo adheres most, whether it be the Stoics, Pythagoreans, or Peripatetics. In his particular period, however, the schools were very much in contact, polemicizing their rivals and borrowing from each other at the same time. I use âPlatonistâ here in a broad sense, as referring to philosophers that appropriated large parts of Platoâs heritage. On the question of whether Philo can be called a âphilosopherâ, cf. Runia 2001b, 286: ânot a Greek philosopher in the ordinary senseâ, and Hirsch-Luipold 2005, 164: âdann ist meines Erachtens gegenüber der genannten These Runias die Frage zu stellen: âWhat is a Greek philosopher (of the first century A.D.) in the ordinary sense?â Die Antwort auf diese Frage sollte nicht von auÃen her über eine vorgängige Definition dessen, was als Philosophie zu gelten hatâim Sinne eines bestimmten Verständnisses aristotelischer Philosophie oder im Sinne eines modernen Verständnisses etwa der analytischen Philosophieâ, präjudiziert werden, worauf dann die Quellen der Analyse entsprechend ausgewählt werden.â
For these interpretative problems, see Runia 2001b, 286â287.
On the philosophical landscape, cf. DanieÌlou 2014, 37â52.
Bonazzi 2008b, 236 and 237 respectively.
Cf. the perhaps overly reductionistic view of Hadas-Lebel 2012, 175: âPhilosophical doctrines are never set forth for their own sake. When the scriptural text calls for a philosophical interpretation, Philo borrows elements from the most appropriate doctrine for the occasion.â
DanieÌlou 2014, 40, who refers to Bousset 1915, 134â152.
Cf. for example, Allegorical Interpretation 2.3 (âThe âoneâ and the âmonadâ are, therefore, the only standard for determining the category to which God belongs), On the Special Laws 2.176 (âthe monad, which is an incorporeal image of Godâ), On the Virtues 213 (âthe One, the Primal, the Uncreated and Maker of allâ) with On Rewards and Punishments 40 (âbetter than the good, more venerable than the monad, purer than the oneâ), Questions and Answers on Exodus 2.68 (âHe Who is elder than the one and the monad and the beginningâ).
Adolf von Schlatter (1963 [1882], 576) and, following him, Dennis Lindsay (1993, 56) distinguish between four main categories, namely (1) pledge, security, proof; (2) trustworthiness in the execution of a duty; (3) trust; (4) conviction. However, this distinction is based on meanings that are often closely related in singular texts, as both Schlatter (at 577) and Lindsay (at 59) acknowledge. Lindsay regards the category of âpledge, security, proofâ as âpurely secularâ (57), which seems somewhat artificial since it often concerns religious âproofsâ and since the modern notion of the âsecularâ has no equivalent in antiquity. Martina Böhm (2017, 165â167) distinguishes between âreligiousâ and ânon-religiousâ usage, categories that for the most part correspond with my division here, and observes (at 166) that âreligiousâ usage is relatively rare and mostly concentrated in specific texts.
Philo, On Drunkenness 175.
Cf. Philo, Allegorical Interpretation 3.224: âbut when irrational sense gains the chief place, a terrible confusion overtakes itâ.
Philo, On the Special Laws 2.227. See also Philo, On the Special Laws 4.156: âThe strict test of truth (â¦) can only be tested by proofs founded on reason (á¼Î»Î·Î¸Îµá½·Î±Ï δὲ βάÏÎ±Î½Î¿Ï Î±á¼± Ïὺν λόγῳ Ïá½·ÏÏειÏ).â
Philo, On the Life of Moses 1.90.
Philo, On Dreams 1.12.
Hay 1989, 465, see p. 464, n. 14 and 15 for all specific passages.
E.g. On Dreams 2.220, On the Confusion of Tongues 156, On Providence 2.72 (112). For more examples, see Hay 1989, 465â467.
E.g. Philo, On the Posterity of Cain 23: âNow that which is unwaveringly stable (á¼ÎºÎ»Î¹Î½á¿¶Ï á¼ÏÏá½¼Ï) is God, and that which is subject to movement is creation. He therefore that draws nigh to God longs for stability (ÏÏá½±ÏεÏÏ á¼ÏίεÏαι), but he that forsakes Him, inasmuch as he approaches the unresting creation is, as we might expect, carried about.â
Cf. DanieÌlou 2014, 152: âIndeed, for Philo, faith is essentially the act by which the soul adheres to Godâs immutable realm, turning away from the unstable world of sensible life. (â¦) its precise meaning is the mindâs adhesion to intelligible realities that are stable and establish the mind in the realm of immutability.â
Philo, On the Confusion of Tongues 31.
Philo, On the Posterity of Cain 12â13.
Philo, On Planting 70.
Philo, Who Is the Heir? 91 and On the Life of Abraham 270, respectively. Cf. the categorization by Martina Böhm (2017, 170â179), who distinguishes between the sense of (1) trust in the universal paradigm of Mosaic Law, (2) a changed perception of reality resulting in the prize (âPrämieâ) of consistent trust, and (3) trust in divine providence in history. When it comes to comparing Philonic and Pauline usage of pistis, however, Böhm emphasizes (at 180) the importance of acknowledging that within one horizon of faith (âGlaubenshorizontâ) both know radically different horizons of thought (âDenkhorizonteâ) and horizons of experience (âErfahrungshorizonteâ), whereby she contrasts Philoâs elite and philosophical and Paulâs socially diverse and apocalyptic orientation.
This insight invalidates arguments that the noun must mean an act of belief in the context of the verb: see §1.5 above. I will return to Philoâs conflation of the quality and attitude of pistis in chapter 6 (§6.3.5).
Philo, Who Is the Heir? 91.
Philo, On the Virtues 212.
Philo, On the Virtues 214.
Cf. Philo, On the Virtues 215: âhe went forth never faltering in his ardour to seek for the One, nor did he pause until he received clearer visions, not of His essence (Ïá¿Ï οá½ÏίαÏ), for that is impossible, but of His existence and providence (Ïá¿Ï á½Ïá½±ÏξεÏÏ Î±á½Ïοῦ καὶ ÏÏονοίαÏ).â
Philo, On the Virtues 218.
See on this particular passage also §5.3.4. Cf. for the use of (a)pisteuŠtowards worldly things and towards God: Philo, On the Life of Abraham 269.
See Plato, Phaedo 83aâb, quoted in §4.5.1 below. Cf. also Bultmannâs article on pistis in the ΤDNT (1968), p. 202: âIn so far as ÏίÏÏÎ¹Ï means turning from the corruptible and turning to the eternal Philo follows the Platonic tradition.â
Cf. Lindsay 1993, 60: âThe idea that faith might be placed in some object other than in God, however, is not a part of the OT-Hebrew understanding of faith. Philo is using Greek ethical categories when he sets up this contrast between faith in God and faith in material, created things.â
Lindsay 1993, 70 and 72 respectively. Cf. p. 185: âThe utilitarian faith of Philoâ. See also Lindsay 2008, 162â163: âThis âutilitarianâ faithâa faith that serves to ensure the good life is precisely the opposite of the faith described in Hebrews 11, where faith is associated rather with suffering and hardship.â
Bultmann 1968, 221.
Lindsay 1993, 185.
Bultmann 1968, 202.
Bultmann 1968, 202.
See for instance also Oertelt 2014, 275â277, who emphasizes the two-sidedness of trust and trustworthiness in Philoâs usage of pistis and places it in the context of friendship rather than dominion.
Philo, On the Special Laws 3.228â229.
See Brehier 1908, 223, who refers to Schlatter 1963 [1882], 55â105.
Morgan 2015, 193, cf. 152â153.
Edwards forthcoming.
DanieÌlou 2014, 152.
On Philoâs acquaintance with Aristotle, see Runia 2001a, 34: âPhilo is acquainted with the central doctrines of Aristotle, based on reading of both school treatises and exoteric works now lost.â
On the connection to Stoic usage of pistis, see Brehier 1908, 223.
Runia 2001b, 302. On Philoâs complicated position regarding Godâs unknowability, cf. Calabi 2008 chapter 3.
Runia 2001b, 303. Cf. for instance On the Posterity of Cain 167â169, where Philo states on the one hand that âthe Being that in reality is can be perceived and known, not only through the ears, but with the eyes of the understanding (Ïοá¿Ï Î´Î¹Î±Î½Î¿á½·Î±Ï á½Î¼Î¼Î±Ïιν), from the powers that range the universe, and from the constant and ceaseless motion of His ineffable worksâ, yet on the other hand that âit is quite enough for a manâs reasoning faculty (á¼Î½Î¸Ïá½½ÏÎ¿Ï (â¦) λογιÏμῷ) to advance as far as to learn that the Cause of the Universe is and subsists. To be anxious to continue his course yet further, and inquire about essence or quality in God, is a folly fit for the worldâs childhood.â
Cf. Runia 2008, 50: âPhilo is acutely aware of the limits of human knowledge, but he is far from being a true sceptic. The wise man sits in judgment and delivers his verdict on the really important questions. For Philo this certainly does not mean any kind of autonomy of thought, but a deference to Scripture written by the wise man par excellence with the aid of divine inspiration.â
Hadas-Lebel 2012, 177: âIn the second century, Middle Platonism would develop, but already with the beginning of the first century from which no Alexandrian writing survived, Philo might be seen as the swallow announcing the forthcoming spring.â
Babut 1994, 580, n. 170: âexplicitement ou implicitement opposeÌ aÌ Î»ÏγοÏ, au sens de âfoiââ.
Babut 1969, 516, n. 5.
âLâignorance socratique, lâinsistance platonicienne sur les limites de la connaissance humaine, la theÌorie neÌo-acadeÌmicienne de la suspension du jugement lâont conduit en effet aÌ eÌlaborer un concept nouveau, celui de foi (ÏίÏÏιÏ), qui prend un sens entieÌrement diffeÌrent de celui quâil avait normalement jusque laÌ. Car tandis que pour Platon la ÏίÏÏÎ¹Ï nâest quâun succeÌdaneÌ de la connaissance vraie, lâapanage de la raison, Plutarque affirme, dans un texte fameux du dialogue Sur lâamour, lâautonomie et meÌme la preÌeÌminence de la premieÌre sur la seconde.â
Babut 1969, 581: âune foi religieuse en une VeÌriteÌ supra-rationnelleâ.
Babut 1969, 579: âSurtout, lâideÌe dâune seÌparation des domaines de la croyance religieuse et de la philosophie, avec pour corollaire lâautonomie de la premieÌre par rapport aÌ la seconde, est totalement eÌtrangeÌre aÌ la penseÌe platonicienne.â Cf. Babutâs opposite judgment of Plato (Babut 1974, 94â95): âLe recours aÌ la tradition nâimplique en aucune façon une subordination de la philosophie aÌ la religion, mais plutoÌt le moyen le plus adeÌquat de se conformer aux donneÌes objectives du probleÌme religieux.â
Plutarch, Dialogue on Love 763E. See my §2.3.5 on theologia tripartita in Plutarch. Cf. Frazier 2005, 132â134.
Frazier 1999; Frazier 2005; Frazier 2007; Frazier 2008. Her position on Plutarch is also summarized in English in her article on pistis in Neoplatonism: Frazier 2017, 190â194.
Frazier 2007, 89: â[L]a raison critiqueÌe nâest pas non plus la raison du philosophe, chassant les fumeÌes de la superstition, mais la ratiocination veÌtilleuse qui reÌclame des comptes aux dieux et ouvre sous nos pas le gouffre de lâatheÌisme.â She refers to Plutarch, Dialogue on Love 757B: âYou surely perceive the abyss of atheism that engulfs us (Ïὸν á½ÏολαμβάνονÏα Î²Ï Î¸á½¸Î½ á¼¡Î¼á¾¶Ï á¼Î¸Îµá½¹ÏηÏοÏ) if we list each several god on a roster of emotions, functions, and virtues.â
As argued in a forthcoming chapter: Van Kooten 2023. For an earlier review of Plutarchan pistis, yet without this in-depth engagement with Babut and Frazier, see Van Kooten 2012.
See Van Kooten 2023: âshe allows this definition to influence her own depiction of Plutarchâs ÏίÏÏÎ¹Ï insofar as she seemingly deliberately paints it in starkly non-subjective colours, apparently intending to distinguish it as clearly as possible from a fideistic tint.â
Van Kooten 2023, referring to Table-Talk 624A (âone of those stories that are believed without good groundsâ), The Dinner of the Seven Wise Men 151F (âa good many things (â¦) come to be believed quite contrary to factâ), On the Malice of Herodotus 855EâF (â[sophists] are not really inducing any firm belief in their causeâ), Table-Talk 725B (âan unskilful, unprofessional, unsystematic (á¼ÏεÏνοÏ) faithâ) and for the strong variant to How the Young Man Should Study Poetry 35E (âour faith gains an added strength and dignityâ) and On Isis and Osiris 369B (âa strong and almost indelible beliefâ).
Hirsch-Luipold 2017, 256: âAuch wenn van Kooten in seinen abschlieÃenden Bemerkungen dahin zielt, dass bei Plutarch philosophische und religiöse Verwendungen gerade ineinander gehen, greift diese Unterscheidung religiös-nicht-rationaler von philosophischen Verwendungsweisen zu kurz, (â¦) und sie birgt die Gefahr, die gängige Entgegensetzung von Rationalität und Religion wieder einzuführen, die van Kooten gerade als modernes Konstrukt zu überwinden sucht.â The fideistic âusesâ, though, seem to represent possible readings that are explicitly countered in Van Kootenâs article, which renders this critique somewhat misplaced. Cf. for his thoughts on Van Kootenâs interpretations: 261, 262, and 263.
Hirsch-Luipold 2017, 259.
Hirsch-Luipold 2017, 270â271 and cf. p. 269.
For an overview of the history of research and current debates, see Opsomer 1998, 9â13.
Jan Opsomer (1998, e.g. p. 12, p. 269) coins the term âzeteticâ to summarize his thesis on the Platonic-Academic synthesis in Plutarchâs thought.
Boys-Stones 1997a, 41. Cf. Tarrant 1985, 133: âPlutarch himself (â¦) retained the allegiance to both sides of Plato [i.e. the sceptical, Socratic and the positive, allegedly Pythagorean side], and to the New Academy.â
I will return to Plutarchâs reception of Platoâs Symposium in his Dialogue on Love in the context of my discussion of 2 Corinthians 3â5: see §4.5.1.
See Sierksma-Agteres 2015a, 67â69 for the context and a more elaborate discussion of this text.
In the words of Eleni Kechagia (2011, 234), âthe sensible things are not simply imitations of the Forms or bearers of a property of which the Form is the ideal exemplar; whatâs more, they owe their reality to the Forms since it is the Forms that make them be what they are.â
Plutarch, The Obsolescence of Oracles 436DâE.
Cf. Plutarch, Platonic Questions 2, 1001C, quoted in §6.3.3 below. Philo here omits Aristotleâs causa formalis and included a causa instrumentalis, as became common Platonic practice (cf. Simplicius, Metaphysics 1.1, Diels 3.16â19). He ascribes this cause to the Logos of God. Cf. Philo, On the Cherubim 125â127: âFor to bring anything into being needs all these conjointly, the âby which (Ïὸ á½Ïâ οá½),â the âfrom which (Ïὸ á¼Î¾ οá½),â the âthrough which (Ïὸ δι᾿ οá½),â the âfor which (Ïὸ δι᾿ á½ ),â and the first of these is the cause, the second the material, the third the tool or instrument, and the fourth the end or object. (â¦) We shall see that its [the universeâs] cause is God, by whom (á½Ïâ οá½) it has come into being, its material the four elements, from which (á¼Î¾ ὧν) it was compounded, its instrument the word of God, through which (δι᾿ οá½) it was framed, and the final cause of the building is the goodness of the architect.â For the development of these prepositional phrases and their use as broadly shared philosophical vocabulary including usage in Hellenistic Judaism and early Christian texts, see Sterling 1997; McFarland 2015a. For a similar usage of prepositions in Pauline letters (esp. 1 Cor 8.6, Rom 11.36, Col 1.16â17), see Van Kooten 2014, 282â283.
Cf. Ferrari 2005, 16: âDa Gott zugleich Demiurg und Vorbild (ÏαÏάδειγμα) ist, muss er Wirkursache und paradigmatische Ursache der Welt sein.â And cf. Brenk 2005, 46: â[I]n a revolutionary way he subordinated the paradigmatic cause represented by the world of the Ideas to the efficient cause, the Demiourgos. God is not only the principal cause of the genesis of the world but the Ideas seem subordinate to Him.â
On the God and the ruler as personified law, see §3.3.7 above. On assimilation to God (homoiÅsis theÅi), see §6.3.4 below.
Opsomer 1998, 15.
In this case it is even more complicated, for we have to distinguish between the character âAmmoniusâ, the historical person Ammonius, between the character âPlutarchâ and the author by the same name. Cf. Brenk 2014, 91: âEven in such a major and sublime speech at the end of a dialogue, then, Plutarch could not have endorsed all of Ammoniusâs views. He may, instead, have decided to suggest Ammoniusâs own teaching, while possibly introducing some strands of Alexandrian Platonism, including something from Eudorus. In contrast, though, with Philo and Plutarch, Eudorusâs âGodsâ are more principles than real or personal Gods.â Cf. Opsomer 2009, 173: âIn some respects Ammoniusâs speech is more extremeâor one could say: one-sidedâthan what we usually find in Plutarch, i.e. when Plutarch speaks in his own name. This is in particular the case for âAmmoniusââ depiction of the sensible world (â¦) and the sceptical consequences he draws from it. (â¦) This depiction of the sensible world could also be explained by the context. The aim of the speechâwhich undeniably is strongly rhetoricâis to make clear that god is real, unchanging being, and to this end a stark contrast with becoming may have seemed appropriate. This is something which Plutarch can have done in his own name.â
Plutarch, On Stoic Self-Contradictions 1037C: âThey frame arguments on either side, however, without having an apprehension of either, their notion being that, if anything is apprehensible, only or especially in this way would the truth yield an apprehension of itself (καÏάληÏιν á¼Î±Ï Ïá¿Ï Ïὴν á¼Î»á½µÎ¸ÎµÎ¹Î±Î½ ÏαÏá½³ÏÎ¿Ï Ïαν).â Cf. Boys-Stones 1996.
Opsomer 1998, 215â216, where he refers to Donini 1986, 211. According to George Boys-Stones (1997a, 44) the epochÄ need not be taken as a sign of Plutarchâs scepticism, for âwhat he actually does is to advise us to suspend judgement if his own arguments (which were in favour of earth as the principle of cold) were âneither less nor much more plausibleâ than those put forward in favour of alternative views (955C). (â¦) and, as a matter of fact, it is clear that Plutarch did think that the position he had championed was âmuch more plausibleââ. Cf. also Boys-Stones 1997b, 228.
Boys-Stones 1997a, 55.
Cf. also Opsomerâs critique of the position of Babut: âPlutarchâs Academism is indeed not an appeal to the irrational. Plutarchâs Academic philosophy is based on an ideal of philosophical inquiry, on the awareness of the limits of human reason, but also on the conviction that (divine) truth is ultimately rational and intelligible. (â¦) The rational and the divine are on the same sideâ. See Opsomer 1998, 184.
See Opsomer 2009, 170 and Brenk 2014, 91.
See the comparison of the personal characteristics of God in both authors in Hirsch-Luipold 2005, 156â161, based on the following aspects: 1) Contact between God and humans; 2) Historical creation; 3) Salvation; 4) Contact effectuated by God; 5) Divine interference on a worldwide and personal scale.
Cf. on the differences between these theologies JimeÌnez 2005, 108.
Hirsch-Luipold 2005. See esp. at 151â152: âals Folge der jeweiligen Methode bildhafter Deutung wird der personal-geschichtliche Gott der jüdischen Tradition bei dem Schriftausleger mit platonischer Brille transzendenter, während der transzendente Gott der akademischen Tradition bei dem delphischen Priester persönlicher und geschichtlicher wird.â
Esp. On Superstition 170F: âThe atheist thinks there are no gods (οá½Îº οἴεÏαι Î¸ÎµÎ¿á½ºÏ Îµá¼¶Î½Î±Î¹ á½ á¼Î¸ÎµÎ¿Ï); the superstitious man wishes there were none, but believes in them against his will; for he is afraid not to believe (ὠδὲ δειÏιδαίμÏν οὠβοÏλεÏαι, ÏιÏÏεÏει δâ á¼ÎºÏν· Ïοβεá¿Ïαι Î³á½°Ï á¼ÏιÏÏεá¿Î½).â It is described by Van Kooten (2012, 218) as seemingly fideistic, only appearing in a less fideistic light when compared with passages from different dialogues. De Superstitione itself also offers a richer picture though.
Plutarch, On Superstition 165C: âIn fact, the atheist, apparently, is unmoved regarding the Divinity, whereas the superstitious man is moved as he ought not to be, and his mind is thus perverted. For in the one manâs ignorance engenders disbelief in the One who can help him (ἡ Î³á½°Ï á¼Î³Î½Î¿Î¹Î± Ïá¿· μὲν á¼ÏιÏÏίαν Ïοῦ á½ ÏελοῦνÏÎ¿Ï á¼Î¼ÏεÏοίηκε), and on the other it bestows the added idea that He causes injury.â
Plutarch, On Superstition 171A: âbut superstition provides the seed from which atheism springs, and when atheism has taken root, superstition supplies it with a defence (ἡ δὲ δειÏιδαιμονία Ïá¿ á¼Î¸Îµá½¹ÏηÏι καὶ γενέÏθαι ÏαÏá½³ÏÏεν á¼ÏÏὴν καὶ γενομένῠδίδÏÏιν á¼Ïολογίαν).â
See Plutarch, The Oracles at Delphi No Longer Given in Verse 402B (οá½ÏÎ¿Ï Î³á½±Ï á¼ÏÏιν ὠμάλιÏÏα ÏÏá½¸Ï Ïὴν Ïοῦ ÏÏηÏÏηÏá½·Î¿Ï Ïá½·ÏÏιν á¼Î½ÏιβαίνÏν λόγοÏ) and the final sentence of this treatise, 409D: âAnd if they cannot ascertain to their satisfaction the reason for the change, they go away, after pronouncing judgement against the god (Ïοῦ θεοῦ καÏαγνόνÏεÏ), but not against us nor against themselves for being unable by reasoning to attain to a comprehension of the godâs purpose (á½¡Ï á¼Î´Ï νάÏÏν á½Î½ÏÏν á¼Î¾Î¹ÎºÎ½Îµá¿Ïθαι Ïá¿· λογιÏμῷ ÏÏá½¸Ï Ïὴν Ïοῦ θεοῦ διάνοια).â
Schunack (1999, 321) describes Plutarchâs answer in terms of an exercise in âreligious hermeneuticsâ (âauf der Ebene religiöser Hermeneutikâ) in order to relieve the tension between religion and science.
Cf. on Grantâs judgement and for a more nuanced view of Plutarchâs dealings with miracles Betz 2007 esp. p. 54: âThese miracle stories can either be believed in a naive way, or, more rationally, interpreted as metaphors, parables, and examples. The former would amount to superstition, the latter may serve philosophical education and even lead to scientific experiments.â
For a more elaborate discussion of this dogmatizing trend, see §5.3.1 infra. Cf. Morgan 2015, 156: âPlutarch adds to his Platonism a pious acceptance of tradition, Philo a pious acceptance of the truth of scripture, but these too are widely paralleled within, if not beyond, their traditions; they certainly do not constitute new leaps of faith.â
This is a point of divergence from Morgan 2018b, 260: â[a]side from the doubtfulness of the suggestion that most first-century Christians would have been familiar with far-from-popular Platonic discourse, Platonic use of ÏίÏÏÎ¹Ï at this period is rather different from Christian.â Yet cf. for a similar conclusion Hirsch-Luipold 2017, 257: âDass hier ein paganer Philosoph die religiöse Tradition zur Begründungsinstanz von Wahrheitsaussagen macht, und dies (â¦) gerade in Auseinandersetzung mit den Wahrheitsaussagen anderer philosophischer Entwürfe und unter Verwendung des Begriffs der pistis, ist für die Untersuchung des Paulus von groÃer Bedeutung. Wird der religiöse Zusammenhang des Begriffs bei dem paganen Philosophen deutlich, dann lassen sich umgekehrt die religiösen Aussagen des Paulus als Beitrag im Streit um die Grundlagen der Wahrheit verstehen.â
For Philo, see §4.2.3 above, in particular Philo, On the Confusion of Tongues 31. The connection may be related to different uses of the Hebrew verb âaman as âto believeâ or âto be establishedâ.
Cf. Wong 1996, who thinks this translation involves the intrusion of a marginal gloss.
The full phrase reads Îµá¼°Ï Ïὴν á½Î¼á¿¶Î½ ÏÏοκοÏὴν καὶ ÏαÏὰν Ïá¿Ï ÏίÏÏεÏÏ. I here take the genitive pisteÅs to refer to both progress and joy, alternatively it may refer only to joy.
On the various approaches to this paradox in Stoicism and Middle-Platonism, see Roskam 2005.
Seneca, Epistles 71.32.
See also §5.3.5 on Stoic confidence and §6.3.2 on philosophy as practice of virtue.
On the Midrashic qualities of the passage, see Dunn 1988b, 197â198.
Cf. Hodge 2007, 93: âwas empowered by faithfulnessâ.
On this phrase in relation to Stoic thought and creatio ex nihilo, see Van Kooten 2017, 136â146.
Abrahamâs lack of faith elicited diverse treatments across Jewish literature: see also Dorman 2017, 152 on how in Jubilees, Abrahamâs laughter is explained as displaying happiness instead of disbelief.
Cf. also the reading of the author of 1 Makkabees (at 1 Makk 2.52): âWas not Abraham found faithful in temptation (á¼Î²Ïαὰμ οá½Ïὶ á¼Î½ ÏειÏαÏμῷ εá½ÏÎθη ÏιÏÏÏÏ), and it was accounted to him as righteousness?â
Nicholson 2014, 195, referring also to Dunn 2002, 265.
Caroline Johnson Hodge emphasizes the motive of lineage and descent in this passage and argues that âfaithfulness does not refer only to an inner disposition; rather, faithfulness is Paulâs shorthand for the covenant between God and Abrahamâ (Hodge 2007, 87). Another important case for a more relational understanding of faith (even) in Romans 4 was made by Benjamin Schliesser (2007). In the previous chapter (§3.4.1) I discussed Schliesserâs thought on the twofold structure of faith as, on the one hand, a salvation-historical sphere of power and, on the other, the human attitude by means of which one can participate in this sphere.
As argued more generally by Peter Spitaler (2007) and specifically for Romans 4.20 by Benjamin Schliesser (2012).
Philo, On the Life of Abraham 273.
On Pelagiusâs views on faith and merit, see e.g. Evans 2010, 117â118.
The subject of the verb á¼ÏοκαÏήλλαξεν (v. 22) is uncertain. Moreover, some manuscript traditions have the passive form á¼ÏοκαÏηλλάγηÏε, which is linguistically awkward, yet preferred by some for that precise reason.
Cf. LXX Deuteronomy 9.7; 32.4: ÎÎµá½¸Ï ÏιÏÏá½¹Ï. But also Pindar, Nemean Ode 10.54 âIndeed, the race of the gods is trustworthy (καὶ μὰν θεῶν ÏιÏÏὸν γÎνοÏ).â
Cf. LXX Proverbs 22.21: διδάÏÎºÏ Î¿á½Î½ Ïε á¼Î»Î·Î¸á¿ λόγον καὶ γνῶÏιν á¼Î³Î±Î¸á½´Î½ á½Ïακούειν.
Depending on how one reads the genitive. In the manuscript tradition, the variant θεοῦ is also attested (i.a. in the original hand of the Vaticanus).
Joseph Fitzmyer (2008, 130, 133) understands the overly positive evaluation of the Corinthians here as a captatio benevolentiae.
Cf. Arzt-Grabner 2017, 249: âAuch der paulinische Gott steht als ÏιÏÏÏÏ zu dem einmal Begonnenen. Auf die mit ÏιÏÏÏÏ angesprochene Zuverlässigkeit kann man etwas gründen und aufbauen.â The same pattern recurs in 2 Thessalonians as well, were âthe Lord is faithfulâ is exemplified as âwho will strengthen you (á½Ï ÏÏηÏίξει á½Î¼á¾¶Ï) and guard you from the evil oneâ (2 Thes 3.3). Here the pattern of assimilation to God, homoiÅsis TheÅi, as regards divine pistis is discernible: on this topos, see esp. §§6.3.4â5 and §§6.4.4â5 infra.
See also Torrance 1957, 113: âJesus Christ is (â¦) the embodiment and actualization of manâs pistis in covenant with God.â
Cf. for a similar reading BDAG, s.v. ÏίÏÏÎ¹Ï 2.d.β: âPaul contrasts walking διὰ Îµá¼´Î´Î¿Ï Ï (â¦) as the lower degree, with διὰ Ïá½·ÏÏεÏÏ ÏεÏιÏαÏεá¿Î½ (2 Cor 5.7).â
In the Greek text, this phrase is still dependent on the earlier verb ÏιÏÏεύειν.
An interesting choice of words, for eidos is most famous as one of Platoâs terms for the intellectual Forms (together with idea).
Cf. for a different view, Watson 1993, 48: âPaulâs description of the things that are seen as transient or temporary, and the things that are not seen as eternal has quite a Platonic ring, but a distinction between an eternal world of forms and a temporal world of becoming is not what is implied. By âthe things that are seenâ Paul clearly means the troubles that are his present lot.â
Plato, Timaeus 92c.
Plato, Symposium 212a, 210e, 211c respectively. Cf §4.3.2 above.
E.g. Plato, Republic 507b: âAnd that some of these we say can be seen (á½ÏᾶÏθαί), but not perceived by the mind (νοεá¿Ïθαι), whereas the Forms can be perceived by the mind, but not seen.â For more passages, see also Trabattoni 2016, 142: âIt is evident, therefore, that when Plato speaks of âseeingâ the ideas, he is using the verb in a metaphorical sense.â
Plutarch, Dialogue on Love 764Eâ765A.
Plutarch, Dialogue on Love 765A. Cf. Frazier 2007, 10: âson appartenance au doxaston permet dâune certaine manieÌre aÌ EÌros de jouer un roÌle meÌdiateurâ.
Cf. Plutarch, Platonic Questions 2, 1000DâE: â[wisdom], which he called passion for the divine and intelligible (ÏεÏὶ Ïὸ θεá¿Î¿Î½ καὶ νοηÏὸν á¼ÏÏÏικὴν), is for human beings a matter not of generation or of discovery but of reminiscence. For this reason, Socrates was not engaged in teaching anythingâ. Love is even called ârecollectionâ (á½ á¼ÏÏÏ á¼Î½á½±Î¼Î½Î·Ïá½·Ï á¼ÏÏιν) in Plutarch, Dialogue on Love 764E.
Plutarch, To an Uneducated Ruler 781F, see §4.3.5 supra.
Cf. On Isis and Osiris 382AâB on animals as âmirrors of the divineâ; Platonic Questions 3, 1002A on mathematical objects as mirrors of the intelligible; and see On Isis and Osiris 372F: εἰκὼν Î³á½±Ï á¼ÏÏιν οá½Ïá½·Î±Ï á¼Î½ á½Î»á¿ ἡ γένεÏÎ¹Ï ÎºÎ±á½¶ μίμημα Ïοῦ á½Î½ÏÎ¿Ï Ïὸ γιγνόμενον. On Plutarchâs understanding of the cosmos as representation of the divine, see Hirsch-Luipold 2002, on the image of the mirror esp. 160â161.
Justin Martyr, Dialogue with Trypho 2.6: âsoon I supposed that I had become wise; and was so stupid that I expected to gaze on God at any momentâthat being the end of Platoâs philosophy.â
The parallelism between Paul and Moses is emphasized in Stockhausen 1989 (particularly 169â175). However, Stockhausen seems to overlook the small yet significant alterations in favour of Paulâs gospel.
Arguably, telos could also refer to the eventual end or âabolishmentâ of the law in Christ, or retain this ambiguity, just as in Romans 10.4 (Christ, the telos of the law). Yet the visual metaphor fits better with an interpretation of telos as a goal beyond what is visible than with abolition of the visible.
Such is the conclusion of Strelan 1999 at 255.
Apart from the obvious appropriation of Exodus here, the motive of unveiling in the face of the divine light is also evident in classical sources, like in the proem of Parmenidesâs poem, were the poet is led to the goddess to learn âthe unshaken heart of persuasive truthâ by the Heliades, who, âhastening to convey me into the light, threw back their veils from off their faces (á½ Ïάμεναι κÏá½±ÏÏν á¼Ïο ÏεÏÏὶ καλύÏÏÏαÏ) and left the abode of Night.â (Parmenides, On Nature B 1.29, 9â10.) We could also recall Dio Chrysostomâs portrayal of Epicureans, who âhave hung before their eyes a curtain of deep darkness and mist (ÏÏὸ Ïῶν á½Ïθαλμῶν ÏκόÏÎ¿Ï Ïολὺ ÏÏοβαλόμενοι καὶ á¼Ïλύν)â so they do not recognize the gods (Orations 12.36, see §2.4.1).
On the meaning of this verse as religio-ethical transformation, in accordance with Philo, see Rabens 2014b, 317â326.
Dain Alexander Smith (Smith 2022) is thus right to pinpoint the ethical, Hellenistic discourse at play (including even more comparative material by Epictetus, Seneca and others), yet he is more hesitant to acknowledge the references to partial and ultimate knowledge of the divine. This epistemological element, observed and compared to âpopular pious philosophical agnosticismâ by Downing (1984, 176), I would argue to be part of this same discourse. For a discussion of vision in the context of homoiÅsis theÅi, see Heath 2013, 79â87.
Etymology is of course not determinative of the verbâs use and it can also be used without a clear connotation to the noun, meaning either âbeholdingâ or âreflectingâ. Yet this is less likely in this context and in comparison to contemporary usage: see Heath 2013, 218â219.
On this usage of the image of the mirror, see Johnson 1988, esp. 636â641, and Weissenrieder 2005.
E.g. Watson 1993, 67â68.
Greek edition: Ziegler 1962. For a discussion of this passage, see Lorenzen 2008, 56â60, and on the possible Stoic and Platonic terminology p. 56, n. 128.
See also Heath 2013, 223: âThere is insufficient verbal or conceptual similarity with Wisdom 7.5â6 to suggest allusion, even if Paul knew the text of Wisdom, which is far from certain.â For the topos of transformation or assimilation to God in Plato, see chapter 6 infra.
On this Pauline theme in the context of pagan philosophy, see Van Kooten 2008, section 2.4, âPaul, the image of God and likeness to Christâ.
Plato, Phaedrus 250b.
Philo, On the Virtues 212.
Plato, Phaedrus 250b: âNow in the earthly copies (á¼Î½ Ïοá¿Ï Ïá¿Î´Îµ á½Î¼Î¿Î¹á½½Î¼Î±Ïιν) of justice and temperance and the other ideas which are precious to souls there is no light.â
Seneca, Epistles 90.28: âSuch are wisdomâs rites of initiation, by means of which is unlocked, not a village shrine, but the vast temple of all the gods (ingens deorum omnium templum)âthe universe itself, whose true apparitions and true aspects she offers to the gaze of our minds (cuius vera simulacra verasque facies cernendas mentibus protulit). For the vision of our eyes is too dull for sights so great (Nam ad spectacula tam magna hebes visus est).â Cf. 90.34: ânature he has not followed as the other animals do, with eyes too dull to perceive the divine in it (oculis secutus est tardis ad divina)â.
Epictetus, Discourses 2.20.37, see §8.3.3 infra.
Lucian, Nigrinus 4 (the character Lucian is here speaking about his encounter with the philosopher Nigrinus). Cf. also Lucian, The Runaways 10, where Philosophy herself speaks of the sophists as âpurblind (λημῶνÏεÏ), as it were, through their dim-sightedness (á½Ïὸ Ïοῦ á¼Î¼Î²Î»Ï á½½ÏÏειν) they merely glimpsed at times an indistinct, dim presentment (εἴδÏλον) or shadow of me, yet thought they had discerned everything with accuracy.â
E.g. 1 Enoch 89.31â32 and 90.35 respectively. On the meaning of the motive of the eyes closing and opening, see Assefa 2017.
Even though this type of sight can be named metaphorical, there is no strict duality in play here between the physical and the metaphysical, precisely because of the way sensible images in this world function as referrals to the intelligible. Paulâs metaphorical vision does not exclude bodily participation. The cognitive linguistic idea of âconceptual metaphorsâ shows how this modern dualistic interpretation can be overcome in Pauline studies: metaphorical language is rooted in ordinary sensual human experience. See Tappenden 2016, 11â13, 33â39.
For my interpretation of this verse, see §6.4.2 infra.
See 2 Corinthians 3.4, 3.6, 3.12, 4.1, 4.16, 5.6â8.
Cf. e.g. Harris 2005, 396â397; Lorenzen 2008, 243, n. 197.
E.g. Harris 2005, 397.
Heliso 2007, 165, n. 1.
Cf. for a similar interpretation Morgan 2015, 255, who chooses to interpret pistis here as âa spiritual gift, (â¦) we walk by the power of our gift of pistis rather than by our own sense of sightâ. Cf p. 254: âPaulâs pistis is not trust seeking knowledge of God or closeness to God.â Cf. also Watson 1993, 54, who connects âsightâ both to experiencing the absence of Christ and to the âoutward showâ of Paulâs opponents.
Hay 2006, 61.
Heath 2013, 238â239.
See also Harris 2005, 367: âδΠ(v. 8) is resumptive (âI repeatâ), indicating that v. 7 is parenthetical and explanatory (γάÏ, âforâ), correcting a possible misinterpretation of v. 6, namely that present fellowship with Christ is illusory and that embodiment is a hindrance to spirituality.â Cf. at 397â398: âThe separation, Paul answers, is relative, not absolute, though absent from sight, the Lord is present to faith, yet it is not until he is present also to sight that Christian existence will reach its true goal of consummated fellowship with him.â
In my opinion, the prevailing apologetic or rhetorical reading of a large portion of what has become this letter (2.14â7.1) need not overrule Paulâs pastoral and educational concerns.
Strangely, Harris (2005, 398) seems confident that his interpretation of 2 Corinthians 5.7, with which I agree, is âclosely related in meaningâ to 2 Corinthians 4.18, since to âwalk in faithâ means ânot to have the gaze fixed on things already present to sightâ. I would agree that faith is like âseeing the invisibleâ but would also argue that the things visible according to 2 Corinthians 4.18 are earthly objects we ought not to look at without looking beyond. Thus, two very different types of sight are in play in both statements. Accordingly, 2 Corinthians 5.7 is not the âcorollary of εἶναι á¼Î½ ÏνεÏμαÏι (Rom 8.9) or ÏεÏιÏαÏεá¿Î½ καÏá½° Ïνεῦμα (Rom 8.9; cf. Gal 5.16)â (2005, 399), for the dynamic of spirit versus flesh is not im Frage in 2 Corinthians 3â5.
Cf. Margaret Thrall (1994, 357), who translates, âfor we live our lives in the sphere of faith, not in the presence of his visible form.â
Philo, On the Posterity of Cain 12â13. See §4.3.4 supra.
This digression on love has long been understood as a âhymn to loveâ, yet this is not a very accurate description of its style. Cf. Fitzmyer 2008, 487: âIt is rather a descriptive, didactic, and hortatory passage composed with no little rhetoric, and differs considerably from the style of the rest of the letter, as well from other NT passages that are usually considered hymnic.â The genre of progymnasmata, exercises on discussing a general topic as building block for speeches, offers a useful lens. See Anderson 2013.
The singular number of the verb is perhaps chosen ad sensum, due to the neuter plural apposition Ïá½° ÏÏία ÏαῦÏα. This apposition is also found up front as the subject of the verb in some early witnesses (among which papyrus 46, ca. 200), yet this may be explained as an (early) attempt to improve the grammar, wherefore the lectio difficilior is to be preferred. Cf. Fitzmyer 2008, 502.
Advocates of the limited usefulness of hope and faith include DeWitt 1954b (p. 131: âfaith and hope are virtues of the interim of time between the two resurrectionsâ); Hay 2006 (p. 55: âFaith (â¦) is somehow restricted and will one day, along with hope, become an outmoded mode of relating to God.â); Fitzmyer 2008, 502 (âin this earthly life âfaith remains,â as that by which we conduct ourselvesâ); Hays 2011, 231; Gaine 2015, 116. The endurance of faith is favoured in e.g. Söding 1992 (p. 138, italics his: âDas âBleibenâ von Glaube, Hoffnung und Liebe meint ihre von Gott gegebene Bestätigung und von Gott konstituierte Beständigkeit in der eschatologischen Gegenwart und in der eschatologischen Zukunftâ); Wright 2008, 482.
Most opted for a temporary hope and faith; Irenaeus (Against Heresies 2.28.3) opted for their eternal nature: cf. Gaine 2015, 116.
Cf. Chester 2017, 157, and for some references n. 67.
Cf. Hays 2011, 212 and Fee 2014, 701 (revised version of 1987) who both connect âfaith by the same Spiritâ (ÏίÏÏÎ¹Ï á¼Î½ Ïá¿· αá½Ïá¿· ÏνεÏμαÏι) in 1 Cor 12.9 with âall faith, so as to remove mountainsâ (ÏᾶÏαν Ïὴν Ïá½·ÏÏιν á½¥ÏÏε á½Ïη μεθιÏÏάναι) in 1 Cor 13.2.
Cf. Yeung 2002, 31.
Lucian, Navigium 45.
Livy, History of Rome 9.3.1â3.
Yeung 2002, 23.
Yeung 2002, 23â30, concluding that it is not likely that Paul was âmerely using the Jewish Biblical tradition in 1 Cor 13.2 without being influenced by Jesusâ (at p. 33).
Plutarch, Dialogue on Love 765A.
Cf. on erÅs and agapÄ as a misunderstood dichotomy in Plato and also in portrayals of (early) Christian thought: Osborne 1996, esp. p. 70: âThus both eros and agape can be used to designate love characterized by either generous or self-interested concerns; neither the direction of affection from superior to inferior or vice versa, nor the direction of benefits from lover to beloved or the reverse, can be sufficient to define the difference between eros and agape.â On the interchangeable nature of agapÄ and philia, cf. e.g. John 3.35 (á½ ÏαÏá½´Ï á¼Î³Î±Ïá¾· Ïὸν Ï á¼±Ïν) and John 5.20 (á½ Î³á½°Ï ÏαÏá½´Ï ÏιλεῠÏὸν Ï á¼±á½¸Î½). But cf. Harrison 2008, 169: âPaulâs overwhelming preference for á¼Î³á½±Ïη (âloveâ), á¼Î³Î±ÏηÏá½¹Ï (âbelovedâ) and á¼Î³Î±Ïᾶν (âto loveâ) is probably explained by the fact that the apostle wishes to differentiate Godâs love and its outworking from the operations of the Graeco-Roman reciprocity system.â
For γινÏÏÎºÏ and á¼ÏιγινÏÏκÏ, cf. e.g. Plato, Euthydemus 301e (âWould you recognize it (á¼ÏÎ¹Î³Î½Î¿á½·Î·Ï á¼Î½ αá½Ïήν), Socrates, he asked, if it came to be your own? Yes, if only you are agreeable, I replied, without a doubt. Why, he went on, do you imagine you perceive (γιγνώÏκειν) what is yours?â). For γινÏÏÎºÏ and á¼ÏιÏÏήμη, cf. e.g. Plato, Charmenides 170d (âhe will merely know (γνώÏεÏαι), it would seem, that he has a certain knowledge (á¼ÏιÏÏήμην)â); Theaetetus 146e (âto get to know (γνῶναι) what knowledge (á¼ÏιÏÏήμην) itself really is). Maximus of Tyre acknowledges Platoâs lack of concern for terminological consistency, yet in order to avoid confusion, he provides some advice: âLet âloveâ be what is felt for beauty, and âdesireâ what is felt for pleasureâ (á¼ÏÏÏ ÏÎ¿Î¯Î½Ï Î½ á¼ÏÏÏ Î¼á½²Î½ ÎºÎ¬Î»Î»Î¿Ï Ï, á¼ÏÎ¹Î¸Ï Î¼Î¯Î± δὲ ἡδονá¿Ï) (Maximus of Tyre, Philosophical Orations 21.4). Citations of Maximus of Tyreâs orations in this chapter are based on the edition of the Greek text (1994) and translation (1997) by Michael Trapp.
See e.g. Plutarch, Dialogue on Love 764E (âour forgetfulness of the realities of which Love is a recollection (ὧν á½ á¼ÏÏÏ á¼Î½á½±Î¼Î½Î·Ïá½·Ï á¼ÏÏιν)â. Cf. Plato, Phaedrus 249câe.
See Morgan 2015, 253: âAbsolute trust and hope, here, bear the natural meaning which they bear everywhere in Paulâs letters, of trust and hope in God and Christ.â
Translation Trapp 1997, adapted for stylistic reasons in the final sentence.
Patterson 2009, 92.
On pistis as an attribute of love, cf. Plutarch, Dialogue on Love 767E: âLove, however, has in himself enough self-control, decorum, and mutual trust (á¼ÏÏÏι δ᾿ á¼Î³ÎºÏαÏÎµá½·Î±Ï ÏοÏοῦÏον καὶ κόÏÎ¼Î¿Ï ÎºÎ±á½¶ Ïá½·ÏÏεÏÏ Î¼á½³ÏεÏÏιν), so that if he ever but touches the heart even of a profligate, he turns him from his other lovers, drives out insolence, humbles pride and intractability, and brings in modesty, silence, calm. He clothes him with the robes of decorum and makes him deaf to all appeals but one.â
Emanuel Miguens (1975) argues for a this-worldly reading of the perfected stage in 1 Corinthians 13, yet it is this verse (in addition to the general Platonic epistemological frame which I deem an important contextual clue) which makes this reading less plausible. Cf. at 89: âIt becomes apparent to what an extent and in what sense the pairs partial-total, child-man are correlativeâand also relative. They mark two different stages of one and the same process which takes place during this life in Christians as individuals rather than as a community.â Fitzmyer (2008, 501) inaccurately mentions Hays (2011, 230â231) and Fee (Fee 1987, 650) as sharing this position. Hays speaks of love as âthe foretaste of our ultimate union with Godâ (231), which he envisions after the Parousia and Fee explicitly rejects Miguensâs interpretation at 2014 (the revised edition, yet not revised at this point), 714, n. 381.
Norman DeWitt (1954b, 154) takes the metaphor of the child as indicating âthat in the interim of adolescence we were captivated by the philosophy of Epicurusâ in analogy with Gal 4.3â9. The âcessationistâ position has some present-day advocates: cf. McDougall 2003 and Compton 2004.
That both passages partake in a similar frame is confirmed by a parallel from Scripture in which a similar expression as Paul uses here, only now ânot in a riddleâ, is used to designate the direct manner in which God communicates to Moses, as opposed to visions and images. See LXX Numeri 12.8: ÏÏόμα καÏá½° ÏÏόμα λαλήÏÏ Î±á½Ïá¿·, á¼Î½ εἴδει καὶ οὠδιâ αἰνιγμάÏÏν, καὶ Ïὴν δόξαν ÎÏ Ïá½·Î¿Ï Îµá¼¶Î´Îµ. On this parallel, cf. Hollander 2010, 398.
Cf. Gooch 1987a, 150 and Fitzmyer 2008, 499. Gooch nonetheless offers an âontologicalâ interpretation (p. 150): âMirror images are ontologically intriguing in that they are completely dependent upon the realities that they reflect; unlike photographs, paintings or descriptions, they can have no existence apart from those realities.â Gooch is short on pistis, though, which he describes as âtrust no matter what the present circumstancesâ (p. 142). Fitzmyer appears to miss any connection to Platonic thought and is unaware of the usage of the mirror in Middle Platonism: âThat, however, is somewhat far-fetched, because there is not a hint of Platonism in the text, and Plato speaks of shadows and images, but not of a mirror.â
This is in accordance with Goochâs conclusion (Gooch 1987a, 156): âAs already pointed out, faith and hope differ from love in being virtues of the interim, which terminates at the second coming, while love is eternal, being of the nature of God himself. A precise version will then read: âBut as things now are, faith, hope, love remain valid, these three, but love ranks higher than these two.â Faith and hope are appointed to lose validity but not love.â Goochâs emphasis on á¼ÏιγινÏÏÎºÏ as referring to the philosophical technical term ârecognitionâ (p. 163) could be relevant, but stands in need of a further analysis of the relevant sources. Söding (1992, 140), who argues for a lasting type of pistis, ignores the occurrence of pistis in v. 2 and finds it difficult to explain the primacy of love, yet reasons that this is due to the necessity of love in the Corinthian situation and the specific âSong of Songsâ-character of the passage.
See Miguens 1975, 76 (âAdmittedly, some distinctions could be acceptable in the case of faith, but it is very difficult to see in what sense hope is still hope after one has reached what he had been hoping forâ) and Hays 2011, 230 (âthat faith, hope, and love will all abide eternally (â¦) would be nearly nonsensical in relation to hopeâ).
A congruent usage of pistis/pisteuÅ in this passage is easily abandoned by some. Cf. Fitzmyer 2008, 501: âOne thing is clear, however; pistis is not the same as that in v. 2, âfaith to move mountainsâ; rather it now denotes the full sense of saving and justifying âfaithâ, the response to the Christian gospel, as in other Pauline passages.â
Translations of Porphyryâs work in this chapter are by Alice Zimmern (1986).
Porphyry, Letter to Marcella 21.
Porphyry, Letter to Marcella 23.
Cf. Hoffmann 2010, 269: âLe theÌme de la ÏίÏÏÎ¹Ï creÌe une liaison entre les deux ensembles dâarguments qui se succeÌdent dans les chapitres XXIIâXXIV: aÌ la foi irrationnelle (á¼Î»Î¿Î³Î¿Ï ÏίÏÏιÏ) qui ne permet pas le contact avec la diviniteÌ, Porphyre oppose la foi qui sâaccomplit en connaissance (puis en amour et en espeÌrance) et qui creÌe aÌ la fois les conditions de la moraliteÌ et celles de la bonne prieÌre.â
The first publication in which he argues his case is Reitzenstein 1916a.
Cf. on the origins of the Chaldean Oracles: Majercik 1989, 3â5, esp. p. 3: âfrom the fragments we do have, we can securely locate the Oracles in a Middle-Platonic milieu, especially that type of Middle Platonism which had affinities with both Gnosticism and Hermeticism as well as links with Numenius.â
Fragment 46 in Des Places 1971 (P 26 in the edition by Kroll (1894)). The reduction of four virtues to three may be influenced by the importance of triads in later strands of Platonism in view of Platoâs triad in Phaedrus 246dâe: see Hoffmann 2010, 306â323, conclusion on 323: âLa triade platonicienne du PheÌdre (le Bien, le Savant, le Beau) imposait que les termes chaldaïques correspondants, exprimant les puissances anagogiques de lâaÌme, fussent eux aussi au nombre de trois.â
Majercik 1989, 161. Cf. Lewy 1956, 137â157. Majercik (p. 161) also warns that âin this light, these Chaldean virtues should not be confused (â¦) with the Pauline triad of spiritual virtues (Faith, Hope, Charity).â
Von Harnack 2013 (first published in PreuÃischen Jahrbüchern 164 (1916)), 714: âWie immer bei geschichtlichen Kombinationen, so hat auch hier die âVorvermutungâ eine verhängnisvolle Rolle gespielt. Die âVorvermutungâ mancher heutiger Forscher, nicht nur philologischer, geht bei urchristlichen Begriffen, die sie untersuchen, dahin, daà sie nicht original sind, auch nicht aus dem Judentum stammen, auch nicht aus der griechischen Philosophie, sondern aus einer alten Mysterienreligion. Diese Vermutungen haben sich bisher nicht beweisen lassen, da man die vorausgesetzte Mysterienreligion in der Regel selbst erst konstruieren und bis in den Anfang unserer Zeitrechnung hinaufführen muÃ.â Reitzensteinâs response is perhaps even more acute, as he ridicules the consternation that such a Christian core phrase may not be Christian after all (1916b, 189): âSchildert doch v. Harnacks Einleitung die Formel âGlaube, Liebe, Hoffnungâ, die dabei in Frage kommt, als ähnlich feierlichen und kurzen Ausdruck der christlichen Religion (â¦). Niemand hat sie jemals für nicht-christlich erklärt; jetzt ist es durch mich geschehen.â
Fitzmyer 2008, 491.
See Söding 1992, 53: âGlaube, Hoffnung und Liebe haben im frühjüdischen Traditionsraum ein weit gröÃeres Gewicht und eine weit profiliertere Bedeutung als in der paganen Gräzität. Paulus knüpft (wie das gesamte Neue Testament) am frühjüdischen, nicht am paganen Sprachgebrauch an.â Cf., however, Södingâs overall conclusion: âDie Trias GlaubeâLiebeâHoffnung ist eine Bildung des Apostelsâ (p. 63).
For some references see Whittaker 2001, 160, n. 42.
In the terms and order of the terms, Porphyry probably remains close to the Chaldean source: see Hoffmann 2010, 270: âPorphyre mentionne bien lâOC 46 et que lâordre justifieÌ par lui (1Pistis, 2VeÌriteÌ, 3Amour, 4EspeÌrance) reste fideÌle, formellement, aÌ lâordre chaldaïque originel, meÌme si par ailleurs la signification spirituelle donneÌe aÌ la teÌtrade est tout autre.â Hoffmann follows Lewy in suggesting that in the Chaldean original, pistis may have had a connection to the oath of silence of an initiate in a mystery religion (see Hoffmann 2010, p. 261, n. 15).
Hoffmann 2010, 276: âDans lâargumentation que nous avons restitueÌe, lâutilisation de lâOracle Chaldaïque OC 46 par Porphyre reveÌt donc clairement une signification poleÌmique anti-chreÌtienne.â
Hoffmann 2010, 276: âla Pistis mentionneÌe ensuite au deÌbut de la teÌtrade (â¦) nâest plus la âfoi irrationnelleâ (á¼Î»Î¿Î³Î¿Ï ÏίÏÏιÏ) preÌalablement deÌnonceÌe, elle est une conviction relative aÌ la voie du Salut, et elle sâeÌpanouit en connaissance (la connaissance de Dieu).â
Cf. Ulrichs 2007, 79: âIn alle Belegen der Trias selbst (1 Thess 1.3; 5.8; 1 Kor 13.13) und in Allusionen an diese (1 Thes 3.6; Plmn 5; vgl. noch 1 Kor 16.13 f.; Gal 5.5 f.) ist ÏίÏÏÎ¹Ï stets erstplaziert. Dies weist nun doch auf eine gewisse sachliche Präponderanz hin; Glaube ist damit wohl als Grundlage für Liebe und Hoffnung anzusprechen.â
Cf. Von Harnack 2013, 705: âEndlich ist nicht einmal notwendig, daà ihm ausschlieÃlich oder überhaupt die Stelle 1 Kor 13.13 vorschwebte, als er jene merkwürdige Ausführung in dem Trostbrief an seine Gattin niederschrieb (â¦) Am Ende des 3. Jahrhunderts muà (â¦) âGlaube, Liebe, Hoffnungâ eine der verbreitetsten Formeln in der mächtigen Christenheit gewesen sein. (â¦) sie mag bei der engen Berührung christlicher und griechischer idealistischer Religionsphilosophen am Ende des dritten Jahrhunderts schon in das überreiche Arsenal der eklektischen Moralisten übergegangen sein, so daà man an die Herkunft des Spruches kaum mehr dachte.â
On these Neoplatonic developments, see Hoffmann 2000.
See Hoffmann 2010, 323â324: âLe fait saillant, et sans doute le plus instructif du point de vue de lâhistoire du sentiment religieux païen aÌ la fin de lâAntiquiteÌ (â¦) est lâinversion de lâordre hieÌrarchique originel, qui fait de la Pistis le point dâaboutissement dâun mouvement anagogique et lui permet de se trouver conjointe, chez Simplicius, aÌ lâEspeÌrance. La raison de cette inversion doit eÌtre trouveÌe dans lâintention poleÌmique anti-chreÌtienne qui inspire la âpromotionâ de la Pistis neÌoplatonicienne face aÌ la Foi chreÌtienne, appreÌhendeÌe aÌ travers les cateÌgories deÌpreÌciatives de Platon (ReÌpublique, TimeÌe) comme une simple croyance irrationnelle.â
Cf. Boys-Stones 2019, 276: âAccording to Clement, then, knowledge of the divine realm cannot come from the unaided exercise of human capacities: there must be assistance from aboveâwhat he calls here the operation of âgraceâ acting on âfaith.ââ