MetaCatholic

The blogabout boxing match on 1 Corinthians 9:27 continues. To the blogs referenced in yesterday’s post, you can now add (at least) David Ker now lingering in Better Bibles, ElShaddai Edwards, and that most perspicacious and pugnacious pugilist John Hobbins.

I repeat yesterday’s defensive block first. Despite everything everyone else is saying, I always called my rendition a paraphrase, not a translation. Take that into account.

Interestingly, David and John seem to take opposite sides on one key point. David thinks that

The reason this word [ὑπωπιάζω] gets used in such different contexts is that the word is a dead metaphor, or “semantically bleached” (I’ve always wanted to use that phrase on a blog). And further proof of this is that Paul collocates it with “body” which would really be strange: “I hit myself on the face my body.”

By contrast, John clearly wishes to translate it as a live metaphor, by a corresponding metaphor, though he doesn’t like the one of my original paraphrase. After toying with his son’s “bust my butt” he settles for “break my body”. The problem is that the former is as AmE as my “ponce” was BrE¹, and the latter, as far as I know, simply isn’t an English metaphor, nor does it seem to me vivid enough to become one.

Is it a live metaphor or a dead one? If we only had the use of it in Luke 18:5 we would, I think conclude that it was indeed pushing up the linguistic daisies, and nailed to the semantic perch. If we only had the use in 1 Cor 9:27, then I think, seeing it amidst all those other agonistic metaphors, we would think it was not so much pining for, but avidly looking forward to a frolic in the poetic fjords.² Even if it had become a dead metaphor, we would have to think there was at least the possibility of its metaphorical roots being raised from the dead by Pauline punning. So if we think, as I do, that in context it is probably impossible completely to ignore the metaphor implicit in its etymology, we may still want to argue for a far less precise English equivalent, since there are some grounds for thinking the metaphor is imbued by contextual and etymological pun rather than customary contemporary usage.

In which case we have now been give a wide range of metaphors to choose from in posts and comments. Of them, the one made so far that strikes me as the most common idiom is a variant on Peter Kirk’s suggestion in a comment. He suggested “I bust my gut” but I would say “I bust a gut” is more idiomatic. If one wishes for a less colourful yet still colloquial alternative, I would suggest “I push myself hard”: it loses the sense of bruising or breaking, but maintains the sense of hard competition, and given the argument above ought certainly to be an acceptable alternative metaphor.

Translating a metaphor remains a knotty problem. While I think it well worth the effort of finding equivalent metaphors that work naturally in the target language, I think there are also occasions when the original metaphor is so striking, we may legitimately translate it term for term. The English language has been immeasurably enriched by the willingness of Tyndale and the KJV among others to do just that.

1. for those not in the know, Am(erican) E(nglish) and Br(itish) E(nglish) [↩]
2. All references to Monty Python’s Dead Parrot Sketch [↩]

The conversation about 1 Corinthians 9:27 seems to be growing. See TC, Nathan (and again) and my previous post. Now the pugilistic Peter Kirk has stepped into the ring, and I need to exchange a few punches with him. He’s aided by John Hobbins, who doesn’t like my suggestion, but has only said so in a comment on Peter’s blog and not here. I’m sure this is against the Marquess of Queensbury’s blog rules.

First a defensive block: please note that I offered what I did explicitly calling it a paraphrase, so critique it on those grounds and not, strictly speaking, a translation.

Now on to the meat of it. One of Peter’s key points is about principle. It is possible, he suggests to take my English metaphors literally. It seems to me that if that is a valid objection we had all better stop using metaphors, since most can be taken literally by someone. Six days of creation, anyone? Son of God? Peter claims that no-one could possible take Paul’s “I bruise my body / give myself a black eye” literally. I suggest that those who have indulged in corporeal self-mortification have done just that.

Peter’s own “literal translation” of this verse is: “I give my body a black eye and lead it in slavery”. The problem I have with this is twofold, and both objections are exegetical.

The controlling metaphor which overarches the whole section is one of competitive participation in the games. If this is what people are prepared to put up with to win a paltry prize, how much more discipline should Christians put into winning the refulgent rewards of righteousness! I simply fail to see how giving ὑπωπιάζω its simplest meaning easily fits that overarching metaphor. It is possible that Paul’s language is confused. It is also possible that he draws on its extended semantic field, which my paraphrase suggests. We need not stray very far. Hard training, particularly in practice bouts, could easily lead to “accidental” black eyes on the part of the one in training. We could stray a lot further. The importunate widow of Luke 18:5 is hardly in the business of giving the unjust judge a black eye. Personally, I think the training metaphor keeps us nearer the core usage, but we need to recognise that the word is used in a wider range of metaphorical contexts, with less precise meaning.

My second objection is in considering the straightforward sense of these verses if they are taken as “”I give my body a black eye and lead it in slavery”. If this is the case, Paul is characterising the body as an enemy to be fought against, and conquered. Certainly this dualist view of the body has regularly appeared both in the interpretation of Paul and in the Christian tradition more widely. I am unconvinced that it is an accurate interpretation of Paul, whose view of the body, while not remotely hedonistic, is more positive than the Platonism of σῶμα σῆμα (the body is a tomb). Again, it is possible that Paul is inconsistent, but when two interpretations are equally possible, I prefer the one that is most consistent with what Paul says elsewhere.

And I think I’m winning on points.

Nathan is posting regularly on his learning of Greek. I’m sure that’s going to be helpful to all sorts of other people. Most recently he’s been getting down to it with the BAGD – the big boys’ lexicon. His particular examination raises some questions in my mind. The verses he is looking at are interesting in themselves.

24 Do you not know that in a race the runners all compete, but only one receives the prize? Run in such a way that you may win it.  25 Athletes exercise self-control in all things; they do it to receive a perishable wreath, but we an imperishable one.  26 So I do not run aimlessly, nor do I box as though beating the air;  27 but I punish my body and enslave it, so that after proclaiming to others I myself should not be disqualified. (1 Corinthians 9:24-27 NRSV)

24 Οὐκ οἴδατε ὅτι οἱ ἐν σταδίῳ τρέχοντες πάντες μὲν τρέχουσιν, εἷς δὲ λαμβάνει τὸ βραβεῖον; οὕτως τρέχετε ἵνα καταλάβητε.  25  πᾶς δὲ ὁ ἀγωνιζόμενος πάντα ἐγκρατεύεται, ἐκεῖνοι μὲν οὖν ἵνα φθαρτὸν στέφανον λάβωσιν, ἡμεῖς δὲ ἄφθαρτον.  26  ἐγὼ τοίνυν οὕτως τρέχω ὡς οὐκ ἀδήλως, οὕτως πυκτεύω ὡς οὐκ ἀέρα δέρων·  27  ἀλλὰ ὑπωπιάζω μου τὸ σῶμα καὶ δουλαγωγῶ, μή πως ἄλλοις κηρύξας αὐτὸς ἀδόκιμος γένωμαι.

The passage is replete with metaphors drawn from the experience of (especially) the Isthmian games which Paul may have experienced first hand.¹ The use to which he puts them is loose enough to invite caution. He is clearly not intending to suggest that only one person can achieve salvation. The passage as a whole suggests that his emphasis is on training rather than competing, and the key idea controlling the later metaphors is that “athletes exercise self-control”. The exercises described in vv26-27 are, it seems to me, best understood as part of the gymnasium training package. That is part of what makes the passage so interesting. Paul shows no sign of discomfort with the imagery of the gym, but seems at ease in the culture. (The other part of what makes it interesting, of course, is the immediacy of this kind of imagery for today’s fitness-obsessed society of largely unfit people.)

It is the training metaphor, therefore, that renders translations of verse 27 like RSV “I pommel my body” or NIV “I beat my body” and Nathan’s own “I black my eyes” so dubious. It’s indisputable that ὑπωπιάζω does mean “give someone a black eye” but the phrase makes little sense if it is taken literally. No-one in training injures themselves on purpose. Incidentally, this also means the verse gives no real support to the use of the flagellum or cilice. A literal meaning is often not a nuance of a colloquial meaning, but a distraction from it.

Without my trying to offer an exact translation, it seems to me that the heart of these closing verses is best captured by a paraphrase something like this:

“I don’t jog around taking my eye off the ball, nor do I ponce about shadow-boxing. Instead I put my body through a punishing training schedule, so that I don’t become one of those who tell others what to do, but themselves collapse before the finishing line.”

1. Murphy O’Connor St Paul’s Corinth (1983) p 16 [↩]

It has always seemed obvious to me that whenever anyone says “the obvious meaning of this text / word is …” they are about to say something that is far from obvious to everyone else. This thought was prompted (again) by Andrew’s post on I Corinthians 6:9-10 and the words malakoi and arsenokoitai. I would completely agree with him that the meaning of these words is far less certain than most people (for and against particular views) state in their respective arguments. The only thing we can say about them for certain is that they denoted forms of behaviour that Paul regarded as sinful.

It also seems obvious to me, but to very few others as far as I can tell, that Paul is not listing sins that he knew various members of the Corinthian church had previously committed. I think he is drawing on a range of common sins in a vice list which he and other Jews more generally attributed to Gentiles. The force of the argument is to say: “These are the sort of things Gentile sinners do, and some of you used to be Gentile sinners, but now you are called to be God’s people.” Why isn’t this generic use of a vice-list obvious to anyone else?

Arguing that these were the sins of specific individuals in the community, and then deciding what sort of sins Corinth was famous for, and then deducing what the specifics of the vice list mean, seems to me an equally dodgy practice as assigning “obvious” meanings to specific words, when the context doesn’t sufficiently clarify them.

Either way, “obvious” obviously means “tendentious”

There is a near consensus among modern translations about the way to render the problematic verse 1 Corinthians 6:4. I list several typical translations embracing the theological spectrum:

βιωτικὰ μὲν οὖν κριτήρια ἐὰν ἔχητε, τοὺς ἐξουθενημένους ἐν τῇ ἐκκλησίᾳ, τούτους καθίζετε;
If you have ordinary cases, then, do you appoint as judges those who have no standing in the church? (NRSV)
So if you have cases pertaining to this life, do you select those who have no standing in the church to judge? (HCSB)
So if you have such cases, why do you lay them before those who have no standing in the church? (ESV)
If, therefore, you have courts for everyday matters, do you seat as judges people of no standing in the church? (NAB)

Among the few that translate differently are these (interestingly NKJV and TNIV agree with the majority):

If then ye have judgments of things pertaining to this life, set them to judge who are least esteemed in the church.(KJV)
Therefore, if you have disputes about such matters, appoint as judges even men of little account in the church! (NIV)

In the majority view the final verb is an indicative, and the whole should be read as a question about accepting as judges pagans outside the community. In the minority view the final verb is an imperative, and the statement is Paul ironically ordering them to appoint even the lowliest member of the community, if they can’t settle their disputes. Either interpretation shares the same context of the church sharing the judgement of the world, including angels (vv2-3).

One linguistic argument deployed in favour of the majority view is “the nearly insuperable difficulties of having an imperative appear as the final word in a sentence” (Fee’s commentary ad loc). Others have not found this so difficult, and against these “nearly insuperable difficulties” must be set the fact that Chrysostom as a native Greek speaker had no such difficulty construing it as an imperative (Homily 16 on 1 Cor).

Arguably the main reason for taking it as a statement about using judges who are not even members of the church is one of those “But Paul wouldn’t say that” arguments. Paul surely wouldn’t refer to any members of the church as “those disdained in the church – τοὺς ἐξουθενημένους ἐν τῇ ἐκκλησίᾳ”, would he? I am not so certain.

Consider your own call, brothers and sisters: not many of you were wise by human standards, not many were powerful, not many were of noble birth.  But God chose what is foolish in the world to shame the wise; God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong;  God chose what is low and despised – τὰ ἐξουθενημένα –in the world, things that are not, to reduce to nothing things that are. (1 Corinthians 1:26-28 NRSV)

If, as many suspect, Paul’s primary interlocutors at Corinth are the few who were wise and powerful, then perhaps the imperative does indeed have a certain point, to recall those whom God has also chosen to belong to the community who will judge the world. So Paul actually continues “I say this to your shame.” (1 Cor 6:5). The lawcourt was an arena in which people, particularly wealthy and powerful people, competed for honour. One of the main ways of achieving victory was eloquence: the display of well chosen rhetoric. I note how easily Paul links rhetoric and wisdom:

My speech and my proclamation were not with plausible words of wisdom , but with a demonstration of the Spirit and of power (1 Cor 2:4 NRSV)

Paul seeks to portray going to law, not as a matter of honour but of shame, a resort to persuasive words of wisdom, instead of a demonstration of the Spirit’s power, which is available even to the least esteemed in the church.

 In short, the minority view among the translations, if it is read in the context of a culture of honour and shame, as the first-century Mediterranean was, has a great deal going for it. If this verse means, in effect, “even those you despise on account of their standing have sufficient competence in God’s eyes to judge the world: if you feel yourselves incompetent for these matters, appoint them”, then it adds force to Paul’s argument. He knows they will be unable to do this, and hopes therefore that they will settle the matter for themselves, actually assuming the leadership they claim, in a way which places the honour of the community ahead of their own personal honour.

Suzanne McCarthy posted an interesting reflection on the procedures of translation committees using 1 Cor 12:13 as an example given by Gordon Fee. There was some debate in the TNIV translation committee, where Fee

had argued to have “baptized by one Spirit” changed to “baptized in one Spirit”. He pointed out that the Greek baptizo also means simply “immersed” or “soaked in”. [In fact, in one case in Josephus' Antiquities it refers to being drunk - immersed in wine to the extent that they become insensible and fell asleep. So, baptizo has a wide range of meaning.]

In the end, the committee went instead for

For we were all baptized by* one Spirit so as to form one body—whether Jews or Gentiles, slave or free—and we were all given the one Spirit to drink.
    *footnoted Or with; or in

While Suzanne has some grosser examples of committees over-ruling specialists in favour of a familiar idea or traditional translation, I’ve debated with her in the comments on that post that this example is more genuinely open to being translated either way without theological prejudice. There’s a serious question about how one takes the double prepositions ἐν and  εἰς .

καὶ γὰρ ἐν ἑνὶ πνεύματι ἡμεῖς πάντες εἰς ἓν σῶμα ἐβαπτίσθημεν

It’s possible to read the first as instrumental “by” and the second as “into”: one is baptized into one body; equally the alternative is possible,  ”in water … to become one body.”

Suzanne, in her most recent response, has taken the argument one step further (while not disagreeing with the legitimacy of different English prepositions):

I think it is a matter of opinion, but, of course, the basic meaning of baptizo is to “sink, soak, be immersed in”, etc. It is probably this collocation that suggests “in”. However, in English, we don’t always think of “being immersed in” as the basic meaning. In fact, I don’t think it has any other meaning in Greek.

It is this I have just a hint of a question about, which is why I’m writing a post of my own, rather than leaving another comment on Suzanne’s post. Is βαπτίζω in the process of becoming a technical term even within the pages of the NT, so that immersing, the original means of baptism as well as the meaning of the verb, is on its way to become a connotation of a word which denotes initiation?

I note first the main other Pauline uses, in English (NRSV) but with the Greek prepositions highlighted.

• Do you not know that all of us who have been baptized into (εἰς) Christ Jesus were baptized into (εἰς) his death? (Rom 6:3)
• Has Christ been divided? Was Paul crucified for you? Or were you baptized in (εἰς) the name of Paul? (1 Cor 1:13)
• all were baptized into (εἰς) Moses in (ἐν) the cloud and in (ἐν) the sea (1 Cor 10:2)
• As many of you as were baptized into (εἰς) Christ have clothed yourselves with Christ. (Gal 3:27)

While the idea of immersing is still clearly part of the word’s meaning, it also seems to be somewhere on the way to becoming at least a metaphor, if not a technical term: what one is baptized into (εἰς) is not a substance in which one can be immersed. What we can’t know, and what we would need to know to establish how much this is happening, is whether the mode of baptism invariably included immersion at this time. One possible instance of an early baptism without immersion comes in Luke’s account of Paul’s own baptism (which must be used with caution):

So Ananias went and entered the house. He laid his hands on Saul and said, “Brother Saul, the Lord Jesus, who appeared to you on your way here, has sent me so that you may regain your sight and be filled with the Holy Spirit.”  And immediately something like scales fell from his eyes, and his sight was restored. Then he got up and was baptized,  and after taking some food, he regained his strength. (Acts 9:17-19 NRSV)

There are at least three options: they left the house and went to the baths or a river, the house had a mikveh, or Ananias used a bowl and jug of water in Paul’s bedroom. The last two are perhaps more likely on the face of the text.

Another possible instance is the account of the Philippian gaoler, which again, needs to be treated with due caution as historical evidence:

They spoke the word of the Lord to him and to all who were in his house. At the same hour of the night he took them and washed their wounds; then he and his entire family were baptized without delay. (Acts 16:32-33 NRSV)

The implication of the account is that this is water which is located somewhere in the house, and that therefore immersion is an unlikely method. So we may (and only may) have two possible instances where the text could hint at a mode of baptism other than immersion. The other instances in Acts are either completely bare of any reference to mode (but probably presume immersion), or else clearly imply immersion. If that is so, it is still possible that later practices emerging in Luke’s day have influenced his story-telling.

Moving outside the pages of the NT we have the evidence of the Didache, which may well be earlier than Acts – its date remains disputed from the mid-first to early second century.

Περὶ δὲ τοῦ βαπτίσματος οὕτω βαπτίσατε ταῦτα πάντα προειπόντες βαπτίσατε εἰς τὸ ὄνομα τοῦ πατρὸς καὶ τοῦ υἱοῦ καὶ τοῦ ἁγίου πνεύματος ἐν ὕδατι ζῶντι ἐὰν δὲ μὴ ἔχῃς ὕδωρ ζῶν εἰς ἄλλο ὕδωρ βάπτισον εἰ δ᾽ οὐ δύνασαι ἐν ψυχρῷ ἐν θερμῷ ἐὰν δὲ ἀμφότερα μὴ ἔχῃς ἔκχεον εἰς τὴν κεφαλὴν τρὶς ὕδωρ εἰς ὄνομα πατρὸς καὶ υἱοῦ καὶ ἁγίου πνεύματος  (7:1-3)

Now, about baptism, once they have been instructed, baptize them in this way. Baptize [=immerse] them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit with [=in] running [= living] water. If you don’t have running water, baptize [=immerse] them with [=in] other water. If you can’t use cold water, use hot. If you can’t immerse them [= do any of these] at all pour water on their head three times in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. (more literal phrases added in parentheses)

Should that word ἐν be translated with, or in? Either is possible, and if it were not for that “in[to] the name …” then “in” would certainly be the more natural translation. What this shows, I think, at least for this group of probably Syrian Christians, is that while “baptize” continues to mean immerse, it is also still baptism when immersion is not possible. Is that a new development, or does it stretch back into the earlier history of Christian communities?

The range of metaphors for what one is baptized into – Christ, Christ’s death, Paul’s name [i.e. instead of Jesus' name], Moses, and finally, the name of the Trinity, does suggest that more emphasis was being placed on what one was being initiated into, than the means of initiation. So, I think, it is not unreasonable to suggest that here we are seeing the early stages of a word that is itself being baptized with a new meaning. This leaves me agreeing strongly with Suzanne that “maintaining the use of transliteration for baptizo is eirenic.” It holds the possibilities open.

It’s commonly assumed that any sense of an “office” of ministry is a later development in the church That assumption underpins both older theological theories of the development of “Early Catholicism” and more modern sociological theories of the routinization of charisma. Corinth is often taken as a shining example of this: nowhere does Paul appeal to any leaders to sort out the problems of the church, rather he continues to emphasize the charismatic gifting of a variety of ministries.

I want to suggest, however, that there may be a hint or two to the contrary: at least enough to add some nuances to this picture. The key passage is 1 Cor 16:15-18.

Now, brothers and sisters, you know that members of the household of Stephanas were the first converts in Achaia, and they have devoted themselves to the service of the saints; (16) I urge you to put yourselves at the service of such people, and of everyone who works and toils with them. (17) I rejoice at the coming of Stephanas and Fortunatus and Achaicus, because they have made up for your absence; (18) for they refreshed my spirit as well as yours. So give recognition to such persons.  (NRSV)

The translation obscures the fact that the verb that appears to begin v16 actually occurs at v15: so “I urge you, brothers … ” – Παρακαλῶ δὲ ὑμᾶς, ἀδελφοί. With this, Paul returns for the first time to the language with which he opens his exhortation   in 1:10 “that all of you be in agreement and that there be no divisions among you, but that you be united in the same mind and the same purpose.” Witherington’s commentary sees this as the letter’s rhetorical propositio or basic thesis.¹ It is, therefore, at least noteworthy that Paul now repeats the phrase.² Could this be flagging up a return to the topic of unity and schism?

Paul classifies Stephanas and his companions (possibly his clients, perhaps his slaves or freedmen) in several ways:

1. they are “the first converts” – ἀπαρχὴ.³ We should presume then, that they were part of the founding circle of the church into which others have come.
2. they “have devoted themselves to the service of the saints” –  εἰς διακονίαν τοῖς ἁγίοις ἔταξαν ἑαυτούς. While the whole phrase denotes ministry, the verb “devoted” – ἔταξαν is interesting. Customarily it carries ideas of appointing, assigning a role and the like.”They gave themselves the duty” may be a better translation.
3. they are implicitly treated by Paul as ambassadors for the Corinthian church — “they have made up for your absence”

None of these add up to an “office” as such, but they do point towards a long-standing role of exercising ministry, in language which suggests Paul recognizes them as in some sense fellow-workers. To this we have to add the ways in which Paul urges the Corinthians to treat Stephanas and company.

1. First (v16) he urges them “to put yourselves at the service of such people” – ἵνα καὶ ὑμεῖς ὑποτάσσησθε τοῖς τοιούτοις. This time he uses a cognate of the earlier verb ἔταξαν — ὑποτάσσησθε. Whereas the former suggests “ordered themselves to” this implies “order yourselves under” and is characteristically translated submit, be subject to, be subordinate to. Paul is not urging a mutual, but a lop-sided relationship. Interestingly it is language echoed by 1 Clement writing to the Corinthians⁴  to urge them to submit to the leaders they have ejected.
2. Secondly (v18) he urges them to “give recognition to such persons” – ἐπιγινώσκετε οὖν τοὺς τοιούτους. This urging that they should acknowledge Stephanas and his companions is clearly less strong, and the precise sense in which they should “know” them is unclear, but presumably carries the sense that they should know tem as Paul does: ministers, fellow-workers, ambassadors, and recognise their value to the church.⁵

Again, this does not quite add up to an “office” of ministry, but it does suggest a role of established ministry, dependent as much on their senior status as first-fruits, and their record of devoted service, as it does on any charismatic gift. The language of “submission” suggests that this ministry is further along the road to “office” than is commonly recognized. Perhaps the end of the century rebellion against appointed ministers recorded in 1 Clement is a playing out a fortiori of a situation that has already occurred in nuce, yes, even in Paul’s time.

1. Ben Witherington Conflict and Community in Corinth Eerdmans 1995, p76 [↩]
2. Of the only two other occasions on which he employs it elsewhere, one is also concerned with unity: Rom 16:17 [↩]
3. Rom 16:5 which ascribes the same to Epaenetus complicates this slightly, but the principle is the same [↩]
4. 1 Clem 57:2 Learn to be subject, (μάθετε ὑποτάσσεσθαι) laying aside the proud and arrogant self-confidence of your tongue. [↩]
5. One possible explanation of the more muted verb may be that Stephanas, with higher social status is in view when Paul urges submission, whereas the worth of Fortunatus and Achaicus, if slaves, should only be recognized, but this remains speculative. [↩]