To hear Paul’s message well, we must place it in its original context. Attention to the first-century setting is important for topics foreign to most modern readers (like eating idol food) and for more-familiar topics (like marriage; 1 Co 7). In both cases, there will be situational factors particular to the original context that differ from contemporary facets of similar issues. Also critical for bringing the Corinthian letters into our own setting is asking recontextualization questions: How well do the proposed situations (then and now) align? If they are closely analogous, how does Paul’s message to that original situation “translate” to contemporary ones? If it doesn’t, what other situations might Paul’s message inform? How might we recontextualize Paul’s message for analogous (or partially analogous) contemporary situations? For instance, the message of Paul in 1 Co 1–4 confronts a situation of hero worship and power leveraging in the Corinthian church. Paul has heard of divisions based on the personalities and speaking capacities of leaders, like Paul himself and Apollos (1 Co 1:10–12; 3:4; 4:6–7). This picture fits the Greek setting of the Corinthian church, in which wealthy persons would provide material support for the best orators and would gain prestige through that relationship. A competition would then ensue, with the elite claiming something like, “My orator is better than yours.” Addressing this situation, Paul denies his preaching came with eloquence; rather, his message and mode center on the cross of Christ (1 Co 1:17).
Is there an analogous type of situation within the contemporary church when we treat human messengers of the gospel as heroes instead of as servants of God? Do we attempt to gain prestige by following the trendiest preacher or teaching type in the Christian circuit? If so, Paul’s message recontextualized confronts us: boasting in our favorite leader must give way to boasting in the Lord (1 Co 1:28–31; 3:21).
A Corinthian issue that might seem less relevant to Western, contemporary Christians is that of eating idol meat (1 Co 8:1–11:1). Yet a careful reading of this passage in its historical context yields two analogous situations. Paul’s concluding exhortation (1 Co 10:23–11:1) allows for eating meat that has been offered to an idol if it is purchased in the market (not eaten in a pagan temple) and if doing so does not disturb a weak Christian’s conscience. Contemporary analogous situations would include adiaphora (actions neither commanded nor prohibited in Scripture) that are matters of Christian conscience.
Yet for most of his argument (1 Co 8:1–10:22), Paul strongly warns the Corinthians against eating sacrificial meat at temple meals because of idolatrous connections and a devastating effect on the “weak” (e.g., 1 Co 8:10; 10:14–22). To recontextualize this warning, we would need to address contemporary temptations toward allegiances that compete with our loyalty to the true God. In Western contexts, we might explore the pull of consumerism that is regularly at cross-purposes with our loyalty to God in Christ. By living as if we can serve two masters, we might actually provoke our Lord to jealousy (1 Co 10:22).
Women in the Greco‐Roman World
Women in ancient Corinth, to a great extent, generally reflected the social, cultural, religious, and familial circumstances of women in the Greco-Roman world. Socially, with rare exception, women in Greek-leaning cities didn’t often leave home, even with their husbands. Women in cities with greater Roman influence did accompany their husbands outside the home more often, but most women lived relatively secluded lives, tending to their homes and families. The social and cultural situation in Corinth in the middle of the first century may have been a bit more complicated due to the significant influx of a great number of Jewish families from Rome during the reign of the emperor Claudius, who in AD 49 had expelled all Jews from the capital city. The Greco-Roman atmosphere of Corinth, as well as its predominant Gentile population, would have been challenged and eventually modified by the influence of these new inhabitants, including that of the newly founded Christian communities in the city.
However, women in the Corinthian church, whether Jewish or Gentile, would have a life similar to women throughout the Roman Empire. Greco-Roman men typically married women ten to fifteen years younger than themselves. It was the usual practice to arrange marriages based on social class, the needs of friends or families, or political and religious favor. Often, girls just past early pubescence would enter into marriage with men well over thirty years of age. Paul’s advice in 1 Co 7:36–38 regarding marriage as optional or delayed beyond custom was unusual for its time. This would have been much like Paul’s countercultural comments regarding slaves within the church (e.g., Philemon).
Women were almost solely responsible for the nurture and education of their children for the first four or five years of a child’s life. After the fifth year, fathers, tutors, and other social mentors became increasingly involved, especially in the lives of male children. Because more female infants than male infants were abandoned, there tended to be fewer women considered eligible to marry and beget legitimate children. Female infants were sometimes rescued, but not just by Christians; it was common for owners of inns and taverns to claim them to be raised as brothel prostitutes. Prostitution was legal and subject to tax revenues throughout the empire.
In Greco-Roman culture, including in some Jewish contexts, women were often expected to be silent in social situations, especially when men to whom they were not related were present. A woman was expected to be submissive to the authority of her husband and to share his religious practices.
In contrast to many social norms of the day, Jesus included women in his ministry and mission, allowing them to learn and be discipled. He also interacted with women in public and in social situations. Paul notably recognized women as disciples and included them in the practice of their gifts within the church with the same accountability to elders expected of men. This challenged Christian men and women to determine new patterns of relating to one another in the fellowship of the church as well as in family and society.
“Spiritual gifts” are particular activities or abilities that are given by the Holy Spirit to build up the body of Christ. In particular, the “spiritual gifts” are those items listed by the apostle Paul in his four ministry lists in Rm 12:6–8; 1 Co 12:8–10, 28–30; and Eph 4:11. (Note also 1 Pt 4:9–11.)
Some interpreters consider the items found in these lists to be comprehensive of all gifts of the Spirit, though most recent interpreters have viewed them as representative. The more significant question is what these lists are lists of. Throughout the twentieth century and into the present, it has been popular to view these listed items primarily in the category of special abilities that one must discover and use in ministry. This continues to be a prevalent view. But others have argued that it is more appropriate to view these items primarily in the category of Spirit-given ministry assignments.
The current issue most often discussed regarding spiritual gifts is whether the miraculous activities included in these lists—particularly those items clustered in 1 Co 12:8–10, including healings, prophecy, and tongues—can and should be a regular part of contemporary Christian community life. “Cessationists” believe such miraculous activities ceased at the end of the apostolic age, since they were given by God as signs to confirm the message of the apostles (2 Co 12:12; Heb 2:3–4). “Continuationists” agree that miracles confirmed the message in the first century but ask whether there is no need for confirmation now, particularly since nowhere is it written in the Bible that miracles will cease. (Unlike earlier generations, many recent cessationists and continuationists agree that 1 Co 13:10 does not speak to this issue because the second coming of Christ is in view; cf. 13:12.)
The triumphal procession was an elaborate parade granted by the Roman Senate, celebrating a momentous victory by a Roman general who was the focus of the celebration. Such a parade was seen as the epitome of military glory, the zenith of a general’s accomplishment. Writers of ancient Greco-Roman literature record over three hundred such processions, and depictions of the celebration occur in plays and paintings, as well as on coins, statues, cups, arches, medallions, and columns of the era. Thus such parades were part of the cultural fabric of the time and would have been readily recognized by Paul’s readers.
The general, referred to as the “triumphator,” entered the city standing on a two-wheeled chariot called the currus triumphalis. The chariot, pulled by four horses, was decorated at times with bells, whips, and laurel branches, and a phallus was attached to its underside, symbolizing the general’s power and manhood. The triumphator wore richly embroidered purple garments, ornamented at some stages in the parade’s development with gold stars and palm branches. The general also wore the corona triumphalis, a crown symbolizing the victory, given to the triumphator by his army. The crown took various forms, the most prestigious being made of laurel or bay leaves. At other times the crown was made of gold and jewels and, being too massive to wear, was held over the head of the triumphator by a public officer, while the officer whispered in the general’s ear, “Remember that you are just mortal.”
The triumphal procession served to portray the general’s victory to the crowds lining the streets of Rome. Spoils of war, such as weapons, jewelry, and other gold and silver treasures, were carried in the parade. Also displayed were large paintings of battle scenes or conquered cities. In the procession there were white oxen, which would be sacrificed on their arrival at Jupiter’s temple. Trumpet blasts filled the air, as did the smell of burning incense, carried in bowls along the parade route. Chained prisoners, often the defeated leaders of the opposing army, marched in front of the general’s chariot. At times these prisoners were killed in the dungeon of Jupiter’s temple, just before the oxen were sacrificed. Others in the parade included members of the Senate, the triumphator’s own children, and Romans who had been slaves in the foreign land before being liberated by the general’s victory. His army brought up the rear, singing bawdy songs deriding the general, meant to keep him humble.
In 2 Co 2:14–16, Paul uses the image of the triumphal procession to portray the nature of authentic Christian ministry. In Paul’s word picture, Christ is the triumphator, Paul is an incense bearer and the gospel the incense, the lost are those being led to death, and the liberated those being led to life.
A “triumphal procession” (2 Co 2:14) was the celebration of a military victory when the conquerors returned home. This first-century-AD chalice displays a procession by the emperor Tiberius.
Paul’s Letters discuss a “collection for the saints,” a “gift” to Jerusalem (1 Co 16:1–4; 2 Co 8–9; Rm 15:25–29). The recipients are clear from Paul’s explanation to the Romans (Rm 15:26). But what type of collection was it? Paul’s descriptions—“gift” (1 Co 16:3; see 2 Co 8:4); “contribution” (Rm 15:26; see 2 Co 8:4); “ministry” (Rm 15:31; 2 Co 8:4; 9:1); and “generous gift” (2 Co 9:5)—indicate this was a freewill offering. This was a unique offering, not a recurring one.
What was Paul hoping to accomplish by collecting an offering from Gentile Christians for Jewish Christians in Jerusalem? According to Paul’s testimony, his ministry to Gentiles included the exhortation to remember the poor (Gl 2:10). Yet this offering seems more than merely implementing the Galatian mandate, since Paul (according to Ac 18:22–23) had returned to Jerusalem at least once without an offering. Ancient gifts always had strings attached. The ancient honor system required the recipient of a gift to reciprocate in some way. Perhaps Paul was seeking to have his Gentile churches accepted by the mother church in Jerusalem as a response to their gracious gift (2 Co 9:13; Rm 15:31).
Was Paul’s offering successful? Both Paul’s later letters and the book of Acts are strangely silent. Acts seems aware of the gift (Ac 24:17) yet gives no indication the gift was accepted. Modern readers often assume it was. But the Jerusalem church could not accept the gift while rejecting the givers, all the more because the gift was delivered by the givers (1 Co 16:3; 2 Co 8:23–24). When Paul arrives in Jerusalem (Ac 21), James recounts the mandate of Ac 15, which does not include the exhortation to remember the poor (Gl 2:10). Does James avoid accepting the gift by redirecting it to a temple offering (Ac 21:24)? We just do not know what happened to the Jerusalem offering.
Paul’s principles for giving (1 Co 16:1–2: regularly, systematically, proportionately, freely) remain timeless, as does the Christian practice of giving (Php 4:15–20), even though Paul’s experiences may remind us not every offering is used as well as we might wish.
Honor and shame serve as primary motivational factors in keeping order and perpetuating the ideals of a society. Honor is the recognition or attribution of respect, worth, and approval by one’s peers. Shame is the removal of respect or the disapproval by one’s peers based on community-recognized standards. Since human beings are by nature communal, the pursuit of honor and the avoidance of shame shape behavior in powerful ways.
Honor in first-century Greco-Roman culture could be based on a number of factors, including family, wealth, education, skill, social connection, and accomplishments. These, of course, were not monolithic. A person might not be born to an honorable family, but they could be adopted into a more prestigious line. Likewise, people may gain honor by increasing their education, expanding their social circles, or doing something honorable.
Shame would result from some sort of action deemed undesirable by the broader society. Adultery, disrespecting one’s elders, fleeing from battle, or being defeated by an enemy led to shame and disgrace. A shamed person could expect to be insulted, ostracized, and, in extreme cases, faced with violence. These actions did more than punish the dishonored; they also provided an example of what could happen if others violated community standards. Further, groups might anticipate that those they had shamed would change their ways, reenter the group, and thereby reinforce the community values.
In Mediterranean cultures honor could be won or lost, so individuals were always on guard against challengers. An “honor challenge” was an attempt by an opponent to gain honor at the expense of another. Two responses were typical. First, if the challenge was perceived as insignificant, a person could ignore the challenge altogether and effectively dishonor the challenger. Second, if the challenge was perceived as a threat, a person could act to defend his/her honor (riposte), win the challenge, and either maintain or gain greater honor. The outcome of any honor challenge was in the hands of the group. This is likely the social situation behind the Pharisees’ frequent public challenges to Jesus (e.g., Mk 7:1–16; Lk 13:10–17).
“Boasting” of one’s pedigree, training, and experience could be employed to either answer challenges or dissuade opponents from attacking one’s honor in the first place. Leaders were expected to remind others of their claim to honor in order to maintain order and preserve the honor of the group. Paul’s frequent habit of boasting (e.g., 2 Co 11–12) is best explained as his response to theological opponents who have attacked his credentials and criticized his ministry.
To a significant degree, one’s gender played a role in matters of honor and shame. Culturally, men occupied more public, civic functions, while women took care of private, domestic affairs. When these boundaries were crossed, it created disorder and shame resulted. Some of Paul’s teachings on husband-wife relationships may reflect these social realities. For example, Paul urges wives not to pray or prophesy with heads uncovered so as not to disgrace their husbands (1 Co 11:2–16). Likewise, he limits wives from speaking publicly in the churches while encouraging private conversations between husbands and wives (1 Co 14:34–36; cf. 1 Tm 2:9–15).
In Greco-Roman culture, self-aggrandizement—the gaining of honor, position, and prestige via one’s communication abilities—was highly valued. Paul’s opponents at Corinth, who probably were from the Sophist tradition, were elitists who despised the various manifestations of weakness in Paul and his mission. For the Sophists, preaching was an opportunity to showcase one’s superior abilities and, perhaps, grow in position and influence. Thus Paul’s “weaknesses”—his constant afflictions (2 Co 4:7–11; 6:4–10; 11:23–33), his lack of charging for his services, and his unimpressive public speaking—would suggest the apostle was unfit for leadership according to the value system of his opponents.
Yet Paul makes clear that weakness, properly understood, stands as a vital prerequisite for power in an authentically Christian ministry. First, weaknesses force a minister to depend on Christ’s power rather than the minister’s own power. In 2 Co 1:8–9, for instance, Paul records the despair he and his coworkers experienced under severe persecution in Asia. Completely overwhelmed, taxed beyond their own power, and despairing of life, they were taught to hope in Christ, who raises the dead.
Second, weakness in the minister manifests the power of God. At 2 Co 4:7, again in a context dealing with persecution, Paul uses a striking word picture, proclaiming that the treasure of the gospel is delivered in “clay jars,” earthen vessels that could crack or break, so that the power surrounding his ministry could be seen as clearly from God and not originating with the minister. This is what Paul means when he comments on the Lord’s words at 2 Co 12:9, “But He said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is perfected in weakness.’” In the midst of Paul’s weaknesses, including his thorn in the flesh from which he has asked deliverance, God’s power is brought to an apex. This is why Paul boasts in his weaknesses (2 Co 11:30; 12:5, 9) and can say that he is pleased in his weaknesses (2 Co 12:10). His weaknesses manifest the power of God in and through his ministry (2 Co 12:10).
The Jewish practice of circumcision can be traced back to the Abraham story in Gn 17. God instructs Abraham to circumcise every male person in his household as a sign of God’s covenant with him. God also announces that circumcision is to be practiced in subsequent generations by having all male infants circumcised on the eighth day. Indeed, circumcision became the quintessential mark of being Jewish. Even when Antiochus IV “Epiphanes” (ca. 168 BC) made it a capital crime for Jewish people to practice circumcision, the people continued to do so.
This covenant sign, however, was always meant to be coupled with a heart of obedience to God (cf. Gn 17). As Moses prepares the people to go into the land of Canaan, he thus commands them to circumcise their hearts; that is, they are to love God and walk in obedience to him (Dt 10:16). Jeremiah’s prophetic rebuke harks back to these original instructions, exclaiming that God will punish all those who are circumcised in the flesh but not in the heart (Jr 9:25–26). The apostle Paul similarly argues that physical circumcision always requires spiritual obedience (Rm 2:25–29; 1 Co 7:19; Gl 5:6; 6:15).
Unfortunately, God’s people do not consistently combine the practice of circumcision with a loving obedience to him. But despite their disobedient inclinations, Moses assures the people that God will ultimately restore them and will circumcise their hearts and the hearts of their children so that they will love him wholeheartedly (Dt 30:6–10). Again, the prophetic message hinges on this promise of future restoration when God writes his laws on their hearts and gives them his Spirit so that they can keep his laws (Jr 31:31–34; Ezk 36:24–27).
According to the NT, the prophetic promise—that God would circumcise the hearts of his people—is fulfilled in Jesus the Messiah. Although Jewish believers in Jesus naturally continue to practice circumcision, Gentiles do not need to be circumcised, because the Holy Spirit has been poured out on Jew and Gentile alike through faith in the Messiah. In Ac 15, for example, the church in Jerusalem holds a council on the question of Gentile circumcision and concludes Gentiles do not need to be circumcised to be saved. Paul thus explains to the churches of Galatia that Gentiles need not be circumcised for inclusion into God’s people, lest they be severed from the Messiah (Gl 5:2–6). In Rm 4, Paul also explains that Abraham’s faith was credited to him as righteousness before he was circumcised. In this way, Abraham became the father of both Jew and Gentile through faith (Rm 4:10–12).
On this understanding, it therefore comes as no surprise that Paul would not circumcise Titus (Gl 2:1–5), but he is nevertheless happy to circumcise Timothy, who has a Jewish mother (Ac 16:1–4). In Ac 21:17–26, Paul goes to great lengths to correct a false rumor that he has been instructing Jewish people not to circumcise their children. Although the early church understood that Jewish people would continue to practice circumcision, the church recognized that both Jews and Gentiles were adopted as God’s children through faith in Jesus the Messiah.
We often speak of “Paul’s Letters”; yet the letters themselves indicate Paul often had cowriters. “Paul . . . and Sosthenes” wrote to Corinth (1 Co 1:1–2). While some argue Paul merely includes Sosthenes in the letter address as a courtesy, a study of first-century letters shows ancient letter writers did not do this. Courtesy comments were saved for the end of the letter. Why is Timothy mentioned as a sender in Php 1:1 and Col 1:1 but in the final greetings in Rm 16:21? Was Paul being less courteous to Timothy? No, Timothy was a cowriter of some letters but not others.
Christians often imagine Paul wrote letters like we did before email: sitting down with pen and paper, composing while writing, then signing the letter and mailing it off. Ancient letter writing was different in nearly every aspect. Paul did not lock himself away in a private room to write. With trusted team members, he sat in an open atrium or an upstairs balconied apartment and talked of the letter they needed to send to Corinth.
Today, paper and pen are so inexpensive as to be negligible. In antiquity, this was not so. The entire process of writing his letter to the Romans probably cost Paul (in today’s dollars) over $2,000, not including the traveling costs for whoever carried it to Rome (Phoebe?). Ancient letter writers, even literate ones, used secretaries (Rm 16:22). This often surprises us. Yet, just a few decades ago, those in business often used secretaries to prepare letters. Why? Because many people didn’t know how to type. In Paul’s day, literacy meant the ability to read, not the ability to write. Most ancient people rarely practiced writing. Paul indicated this with his comment: “Look at what large letters I use as I write to you in my own handwriting” (Gl 6:11).
Writing down a letter was considered a specialized skill. A secretary needed to know how to cut and glue papyrus, cut and sharpen pens, mix ink, and prick and line the sheets. A letter to a church, to be read publicly as Paul intended (Col 4:16), could not be scratched messily across some sheet. Important letters had to be prepared neatly on good quality papyrus. The quickly scrawled first draft was not suitable for sending to a church. Careful thought and composition were also essential. Ancient writers thoughtfully pondered their drafts, weighing each phrase. Cicero debated over which preposition was best to use. Paul’s letters were not carelessly written. Ancients expected a letter to use an appropriate structure and standardized phrases.
When Paul decided to send a letter to Corinth, he contracted a secretary. It would have taken more than the usual haggling. A typical letter of that time was about the length of 3 John. Paul’s letters were extraordinarily long. Paul’s opponents ridiculed his letters as “weighty” (2 Co 10:10). The secretary would bring a stack of wax tablets. In a typical scenario, as Paul speaks, the secretary scratches furiously on the tablets. Sosthenes interjects at times. Paul ponders and perhaps rephrases. Team members wander through the room at times, pausing to listen, offering suggestions. After several hours, the secretary leaves to prepare a rough draft of that portion. When the secretary returns a few days later, Paul listens to the draft, making corrections and additions. He then adds more to the letter. This process continues over the next few weeks until the letter is precisely the way Paul wanted it, because as the primary sender, he is responsible for every word. The secretary brings the final draft to Paul (on nice papyrus and in good handwriting). As authentication (2 Th 3:17), Paul adds some closing remarks in his own handwriting, sometimes several verses (Gl 6:11–18), sometimes just a line or two (1 Co 16:21; Col 4:18; 2 Th 3:17–18), and sometimes just a final phrase (“Grace be with you,” 2 Tm 4:22). The letter is then rolled. A string is tied around it and clay pressed over the knot to seal it.
We today, of course, cannot know exactly the procedure Paul used or how long each letter took. But a better understanding of ancient letter writing helps us to see how truly “weighty” Paul’s letters were. He invested much time and effort in writing them. We should do the same in reading them.
Ephesus, situated on the Aegean Sea near the mouth of the Cayster River, was an important city in early Christianity. The city’s founding myth traces its origin back to the thirteenth century BC. In 546 BC, Cyrus’s defeat of the Lydian king Croesus brought the city under Persian control for over two centuries. Alexander’s defeat of the Persians brought the city once again under Greek hegemony. The city was then governed alternately by the Seleucids and Ptolemies until 188 BC when the Attalids took control. In 133 BC Attalus III bequeathed his kingdom to the Romans, who then made Ephesus an important administrative center and later the provincial capital. During the first century AD, Ephesus was the fourth largest city of the Roman Empire with an estimated population of over 200,000 residents. The city was a judicial center, and the Greek term for courts (agoraioi) in Ac 19:38 refers to this activity. Although a temple to the goddess Roma and the deified Julius Caesar was built in 29 BC for Roman citizens, a temple for the imperial cult was not built until AD 89/90 during Domitian’s reign.
Ephesus was a center of spiritual activity, and tension was high among the many religiously diverse communities. Ephesus was known as the temple keeper (neokoros, Ac 19:35) of the goddess Artemis. Thousands made pilgrimages to Ephesus each spring for the annual Artemisia festival. The worship of at least seventeen other deities has been documented in the city. Ephesus also had a large Jewish community (cf. Ac 19:8, 13–16). In Ac 19, when the Ephesian Jews attempt to mollify the crowd assembled in the theater against Paul, their representative, Alexander, is shouted down when the crowd realizes he is a Jew (Ac 19:34). This reaction underscores the underlying tensions between the monotheistic Jews and the pagan Greeks of the city. The city was also renowned as a center for magical practices. Foremost among these were the so-called Ephesian letters. These were written magical spells thought to contain apotropaic power to ward off evil spirits. Acts 19:19 describes how a number of new Christians renounced their involvement with sorcery by burning their scrolls.
Near the end of his second journey Paul stopped briefly in Ephesus, leaving Priscilla and Aquila there (Ac 18:19–21). On his third journey Paul ministered for more than two years in Ephesus (Ac 19), which served as a base for reaching the entire province of Asia. After the riot provoked by Demetrius and the silversmiths, Paul left Ephesus. Paul apparently eventually returned to Ephesus to deal with problems in the church, leaving Timothy there (1 Tm 1:3). Later Paul sent Tychicus to Ephesus to relieve Timothy (2 Tm 4:12–13). Tradition holds that John relocated to Ephesus before the fall of Jerusalem in AD 70. Ephesus is the first of the seven churches addressed by John in Revelation (Rv 1:11; 2:1–7). The traditional provenance of John’s Gospel and three letters is Ephesus.
Three passages in the NT are commonly referred to as household codes: Eph 5:21–6:9; Col 3:18–4:1; and 1 Pt 2:18–3:7. Each passage contains apostolic instruction for how Christians are to live in society’s most basic unit, the family household. Martin Luther was the first to refer to these passages with the name “household table” (German Haustafel) in his German translation of the Bible. The form of these NT passages is striking, addressing paired relationships within the first-century household of master-slave, husband-wife, and father-children, though not consistently in this order or with equal treatment of each pair.
While the instructions in the NT household codes are distinctively Christian, the form is widely found among the writings of the Greek moral philosophers from Plato (427–348/347 BC) to Aristotle (384–322 BC), to Plutarch (ca. AD 46–120) and Seneca (ca. 4 BC–AD 65). Although these writers had very different views on how the head of the household was to relate to his wife, children, and slaves, all shared the belief that orderly relationships in the household in which each member knew and occupied his or her place was necessary for the well-being of society. No religion or philosophy entering the moral world of Greco-Roman culture could fail to address order in the household, and new movements would be evaluated largely on their ideas about this culturally important topic. It is therefore not surprising that when the apostles Peter and Paul write to destinations holding a Greco-Roman worldview, such as Ephesus, Colossae, and the northern provinces of Asia Minor, they needed to provide instruction for Christians whose conversion to Christ raised social problems within their household relationships.
The specific function of household codes in the NT is debated. Some argue they were included in response to social unrest among women and slaves in the church. Still others see the household codes as apologetic, both upholding and critiquing the social status quo, to allow for effective evangelization. Still others see them primarily as the apostolic response to criticism about what effect Christianity might have on the household, and therefore on society at large. From an apologetic perspective, the household codes defend the Christian way of life as nonthreatening to order in the greater society.
Each NT household code has a somewhat different purpose within its immediate context, but all redefine the nature of household relationships by grounding them in a relationship with Christ rather than in Greco-Roman moral philosophy. All three of the NT household codes uphold, but at the same time subvert, the first-century social status quo by a redefinition of terms in comparison to the instruction found in the secular writers. Based on the example of Jesus Christ, obedience is redefined for the slave; submission is redefined for the wife; and love is redefined for the husband.
Philippi: The City and the Church
Acts 16:12 calls Philippi “a leading city of the district of Macedonia.” Situated at the eastern end of a large and fertile plain on the road that connected Europe to Asia Minor, it had a strategic position that ensured its importance as a Greek city and a Roman colony. It was named after Philip of Macedon, Alexander the Great’s father, in 356 BC and came under Roman control in 168 BC. In 42 BC Octavian, later Augustus Caesar, won two great military victories near Philippi and honored Philippi by refounding it as a Roman military colony. This gave every resident Roman citizenship and populated the town and surrounding areas with discharged military veterans, thereby ensuring the allegiance of this strategically located town to the emperor of Rome. By the time Paul came to the city in 49, Philippi was the political center of the area, and both Greek and Latin were spoken in the city. Paul reminds the Philippians that, despite the tremendous advantages in the Roman world of being a citizen of Philippi, as Christians they are now citizens of a heavenly kingdom. Their Lord is not Caesar but Jesus Christ, their Savior, who has everything, even the Roman Empire, under his control.
While on his second missionary journey, Paul received a vision of a man of Macedonia who begged him, “Cross over to Macedonia and help us” (Ac 16:9). So Paul journeyed to Macedonia, and the church at Philippi was founded as the first Christian community in Europe. The well-known story of the founding of the church is told in Ac 16:11–40. Paul found a devout worshiper of God named Lydia, a seller of purple goods, who with her household formed the nucleus of the church at Philippi. Although Acts does not indicate how long Paul actually stayed in Philippi, it was long enough for him to establish a close relationship with this church. Paul and Silvanus left Philippi after Paul was imprisoned for casting a spirit of divination out of a slave girl, but not before the entire household of his Roman jailer had converted to Christianity. We know first from 1 Co 16:5 and 2 Co 1:16 and second from 2 Co 2:13 and 2 Co 7:5 that he visited Philippi at least two more times, and in 2 Co 8:1–5 he wrote them a glowing commendation for generous giving.
The first generation of Christ followers gathered regularly in house churches for instruction, encouragement, and worship. A central part of these gatherings was the chanting and singing of hymns. Explicit reference to the use of hymns in the Christian church is found in Paul’s admonition to sing “psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs” with gratitude to God (Col 3:16; cf. Eph 5:19–20). These three terms likely refer to the practice of using the biblical Psalter along with distinctly Christian compositions. The worship of God with hymns had its immediate background in Jewish synagogue practices. Early believers used psalms, particularly messianic psalms, to express uniquely Christian perspectives on God’s recent actions in the world. Likewise, Eph 1:3–14 is constructed on a Jewish hymn-pattern known as the berakah (“Blessed is . . .”). While the pattern is clearly Jewish, the epistle uses it in a way that is explicitly Christian. Gentile believers would have also been accustomed to hymn singing in the ethos of Greco-Roman religion.
Scholars have detected hymns and hymn fragments throughout the Gospels, Acts, Letters, and Revelation utilizing various criteria, including introductory phrases (e.g., Eph 4:8), poetic parallelism, special uses of relative pronouns and participles, the presence of unusual vocabulary and rhyming features, and disruptions to the context. Although not all scholars agree, there is a general consensus that the following passages represent early Christian hymns: Rm 11:33–36; Php 2:6–11; Col 1:15–20; 1 Tm 3:16; Heb 1:3–4; 1 Pt 2:21–24; Rv 4:8–11; 19:1–4. These hymns may have been preformed traditions quoted or alluded to by a writer or spontaneous compositions understood to be Spirit-inspired. Some hymns are so clear and self-contained that later generations of Christians have named them (e.g., the Magnificat, Lk 1:46–55; the Benedictus, Lk 1:68–79). The NT contains hymns both to Christ and to God the Father, demonstrating a binitarian shape to early Christian devotion. Furthermore, the content of early Christian hymns is directed to soteriological themes such as creation, incarnation, and redemption. For early Christ believers, hymnic praise was essentially a response to God’s saving actions in Christ.
Though not all agree, many scholars think the earliest extant Christian hymn is the hymn found in Php 2:6–11. The hymn consists of two parts. The first narrates the descent and humiliation of the preexistent Jesus to become a man and to suffer a merciless death on the cross. The second describes the ascent and exaltation of the crucified Jesus by God to receive the adoration of every creature and the confession “Jesus Christ is Lord.” This hymn functioned to recall the essential story and therefore had a didactic purpose. Paul utilized it further to make Jesus the lordly example of humility and service (cf. 1 Pt 2:21–24).
By its nature, poetic or hymnic language appears to affect in significant ways those who use it. Whether it was chanted or accompanied with musical instruments, hymns were easier to memorize and recall than other forms of instruction. Therefore, it seems that early Christians used hymns for several purposes: (1) to instruct; (2) to express praise and thanks to God; (3) to confess faith; (4) to form communal identity; and (5) to provide an example for proper behavior.
Stoicheia (“Elements”) in the New Testament
The Greek word stoicheia appears in the NT seven times: Gl 4:3, 9; Col 2:8, 20; Heb 5:12; 2 Pt 3:10, 12. The word has three fundamental senses: (1) natural substances; (2) supernatural powers; or (3) basic principles. No one of these meanings fits all NT uses, but we must seek within the context of each verse (and epistle) the meaning that best captures the author’s intention.
In all but one of his four uses, Paul qualifies stoicheia with the phrase “of the world.” Were the Galatians (Gl 4:3, 9) formerly enslaved to powers or principles of the world? Paul includes both Torah observance (Gl 4:5, 10) and the readers’ prior religious practices (Gl 4:3–4, 8–9) within this former bondage, so it’s unlikely that stoicheia refers to spiritual beings (the demonic world). Thus any principle or religious teaching—whether the preparatory way of the law or any human religion that steers people away from embracing Christ alone—is weak and worthless (Gl 4:9) and must be abandoned.
Were the Colossian readers (Col 2:8, 20) in danger of captivity to dangerous powers (spirit beings) or aberrant principles? In Colossians Paul exalts the role of Christ, suggesting that a philosophy or tradition (Col 2:8) that elevated alternative “elements” (whether spirits or teachings) above Christ lay at the heart of the Colossian heresy. Were these stoicheia rival deities (celestial beings)? Paul’s refutation includes a reminder that Jesus triumphed through the cross (Col 2:15). Perhaps Paul’s mention of people worshipping angels (Col 2:18)—whether it means angels as objects of worship or some celestial worship that angels celebrate—suggests stoicheia are spiritual beings. Alternatively, any stoicheia (“principles” or traditions) that promote such worship fail utterly to secure a true internal transformation (Col 2:23) and the salvation (Col 2:11–15) found in Jesus alone. Besides, in Jesus dwells all God’s fullness (Col 1:19; 2:9). Why settle for lesser (alleged) gods or a teaching that subscribes to this view?
The situation in Hebrews (Heb 5:12) is straightforward. The readers’ progress in the Christian faith is stunted. The author laments that they require stoicheia, basic teaching, the simple truths or elementary Christian principles based on the oracles or utterances of God.
Finally, 2 Peter speaks of the conflagration that dissolves the stoicheia on the day of the Lord (1 Pt 3:10, 12). This denotes “natural substances.” Stoicheia are the world’s basic elements—that is, the literal elements that make up the world.
The Colossians and the Hymn to Christ
While the philosophy that Paul opposes in Colossians is not mentioned directly until chapter 2, the “hymn” in Col 1:15–20 is often seen as a counterbalance to the philosophy. Although scholars who see the philosophy as syncretistic suggest that the hymn presents Christ as above the astral powers, gods, and fate, as a frontal assault on the philosophy’s inadequate understanding of Christ, this approach de-emphasizes the hymn’s concern with the church as Christ’s body and as God’s people sharing their inheritance of the kingdom of the Son (Col 1:12–13). The hymn is rooted in the salvation story of God, it flows naturally from the liturgical language of Col 1:12–14, and its claims echo throughout the letter. The forgiveness of sins and the triumph over powers and authorities are repeated in Col 2:13–15, and themes of creation and new creation in Col 3:10. The exalted picture of the Son as the image of the invisible God champions the majesty of God’s plan of reconciling through Christ (Col 1:23).
The hymn also reminds the Gentile Christians to resist another persistent voice: the imperial cult. The emperor and his military sought to convince all peoples of the omniscience and omnipotence of Rome. Coins, statues, military triumphal parades, and, not least, the imperial cult proclaimed Caesar’s divine status as the savior of the world and Rome’s role as the keeper of moral order and goodness. Time itself was marked by the emperor, with Augustus’s birthday starting the new year. The imperial cult pervaded all life; it was not relegated to public lip service or privatized as individually chosen, personal piety. Therefore, any claim by Christians that Christ was the image of God (Col 1:15) and held full supremacy (Col 1:18) would affect not simply an individual’s personal political views but also the very roots of his or her social network and worldview.
The Greco‐Roman Family and the Household of God
The family in the ancient world was highly structured and hierarchical. The husband/father was the undisputed lord of his family (as Caesar was lord of the empire), including grown sons (and their wives). The wife/mother also had significant authority in the raising of the children, and if she had a substantial dowry, she wielded economic influence as well. Slaves fulfilled many occupations: some were quite learned; most did manual labor. They could earn their freedom or be freed by their master’s will. (Slaves made up about 10 percent of the total population, except in Rome, where slaves made up about 33 percent of the inhabitants.) It was possible for a household slave to have a better quality of life in terms of shelter, food, and clothing than a poor freeborn person.
A well-ordered home was sought by Gentiles and Jews alike. Aristotle’s views carried the day—the home was the foundation of the state, and the home must be organized hierarchically and harmoniously. The vested interests of those at the top of the hierarchy—husbands, fathers, slave owners—were protected and increased. A few dissenters, such as the Cynics and the Essenes at Qumran, called for a radical restructuring of society, or chose to isolate themselves from society altogether.
Into this setting Paul applies the gospel message. We cannot conclude that Paul condoned the social and institutional structures of his day (patriarchy and slavery). He is emphatic that essentialist categories such as race, class, gender, or ethnic identity—things a person cannot change—do not determine rank within the household of God (see Col 3:11; Gl 3:28). In Paul’s argument, Christ as the perfect, fully human being offers to his body, the church, that same fullness. Such completeness comes, however, at a cultural price: one loses one’s cultural or ethnic (or gender) bragging rights to being better than another. Christ is now the focus.
When Paul speaks about social roles and obligations, his aim is to discuss how certain common and important social roles, such as husband and wife, parent and child, master and slave, can be played in that culture with fidelity to Christ. Paul recognizes the legal and cultural power that husbands have over wives, fathers over children (of any age), and masters (male and female) over slaves. He wants those who have been given power through social norms to exercise that rule in Christ-honoring ways. And he wants those who are under such power to respect those wielding it but also to remember that such authority is mediated, for only Christ has ultimate authority.
Work and the Thessalonian Christians
Although Paul indicates that his initial ministry in Thessalonica was fruitful for the work of the gospel (1 Th 1:5, 9; 2:13; 3:6; 4:1; cf. 2 Th 1:3; 2:13), he does not suggest that the founding and forming of the fellowship was easy. On the contrary, as he reflects on his first visit to the city, he depicts it as fraught with hardship. Not only did he and his fellow missionaries experience opposition from unbelieving outsiders (1 Th 1:6; 2:2, 14–15; 3:3–4), but they also engaged in toilsome labor during their stay (1 Th 2:9; cf. 2 Th 3:7–8). Despite having the right to make a living from the gospel (1 Th 2:6; 2 Th 3:10; cf. 1 Co 9:12), it was Paul’s missionary modus operandi to ply his trade as a tentmaker (Ac 18:3) so that he could preach the gospel free of charge (1 Co 9:18; 2 Co 11:7).
In addition to serving as an example for the Thessalonians relative to work (1 Th 2:10; 2 Th 3:9), the apostle also offered the Thessalonian congregation instructions regarding work both in person and by letter. In 1 Th 4:11 Paul admonishes the assembly “to work with your own hands, as we commanded you” (cf. 2 Th 3:10). He also exhorts the church to “warn those who are idle” (1 Th 5:14). In 2 Th 3:6–13, there is an explicit link between the disorderly or unruly, on the one hand, and work, on the other hand. Seemingly, some of the Thessalonian congregation were living unruly lives precisely due to their unwillingness to work (2 Th 3:11). That they were sponging off of the assembly stood in stark contrast to the example of their founders and threatened the stability of the fledgling fellowship.
Whatever the root of this brewing congregational crisis (an aversion to work in general, an errant eschatology in particular, or both?), Paul wants to nip it in the bud. He seeks to do so by commanding the congregation to “keep away” from the work-shy (2 Th 3:6), by reminding the assembly of his conduct and instruction (2 Th 3:7–10), and by appealing directly to the unruly to work in quietness and eat their own bread (2 Th 3:12). In the event that the disorderly fail to respond positively to the instructions given, then they are to be shunned so that they might be ashamed (and subsequently restored) (2 Th 3:14–15). Regardless, the Thessalonian believers are to “not grow weary in doing good” (2 Th 3:13) lest the labor of Paul and his coworkers be all for naught (1 Th 3:5).
Who or What Is the Restrainer in 2 Thessalonians?
Second Peter 3:16 contends that there are some things in Paul’s letters that are hard to understand. Second Thessalonians 2:1–12 lends support to this assessment. Indeed, a slew of complex interpretive questions confront students of this passage. What has caused the eschatological confusion in the Thessalonian congregation? What was the origin of this deception? What apostasy or rebellion does the apostle anticipate prior to the “day of the Lord”? Has Paul fashioned the sinister figure he references on a historical personage like Antiochus Epiphanes, Pompey, or Caligula? Does Paul have a literal temple in mind wherein this lawless one will take his seat and play God? To be sure, this text is chock-full of confounding comments.
No piece of the puzzle that is 2 Th 2:1–12 has perplexed Pauline interpreters more, however, than the identity of the restraining force mentioned in 2 Th 2:6–7. Having been duly instructed regarding “the day,” the Thessalonians knew “what . . . restrains” (2 Th 2:6) the “man of lawlessness” (2 Th 2:3). Correlatively, they were fully apprised regarding “the one . . . restraining” the revelation of the lawless one (2 Th 2:7). If they were in the know, we are in the dark. At least we are not alone in our confoundedness. In commenting on 2 Th 2:6, Augustine of Hippo (AD 354–430) remarks, “We who do not have their [i.e., the Thessalonians’] knowledge wish and are not able even with pains to understand what the apostle referred to.” In addition, Augustine maintains that 2 Th 2:6 is “made still more obscure by what [Paul] adds [in 2 Th 2:7].” After citing 2 Th 2:7, Augustine admits, “I frankly confess I do not know what he means” (City of God 20.19). As Augustine rightly notes, the difficulty of interpreting 2 Th 2:6–7 is compounded in that whereas “what restrains” (to katechon) in 2 Th 2:6 is neuter in Greek, “the one restraining” (ho katechōn) in 2 Th 2:7 is masculine.
If Augustine was taken aback by the “audacious conjectures” of his contemporaries regarding the identity of the “what restrains” / “the one restraining,” then one can but imagine how bemused he would be at the proliferation of subsequent proposals. Exegetes have long suggested that in 2 Th 2:6–7 Paul had in mind the Roman Empire on the one hand, and the person of the emperor on the other hand. A variation on this interpretation is that “the principle of order” is “what restrains” and the “one restraining” is the personification of the same. Other views include the Jewish state, Satan, a force and person hostile to God, God and his power, the Holy Spirit, an angelic figure, and the gospel as proclaimed by the apostle Paul. Beyond eliminating those views that construe “what restrains” / “the one restraining” as sinister (why would evil seek to restrain or hold back evil?), it is perhaps most prudent to leave this befuddling interpretive question open, as the title of this essay suggests.
False Teachers in the Early Church
False teachers are found throughout the story of the Bible (see 2 Tm 3:8). In the NT, the emphases of false teachers may vary, but they are essentially those who teach something different from the truth entrusted by Christ through the apostles (see 1 Tm 1:3; 2 Tm 1:14). The verb translated “teach false doctrine” in 1 Tm 1:3 literally means “to teach something strange or different.” Some false teachers are too strict, requiring things God does not require (e.g., Gl 6:12; 1 Tm 4:1–5), while others are too lax, failing to uphold God’s requirements (Ti 1:10–11; 2 Tm 3:1–9). In the Pastoral Epistles (as in the rest of the NT), improper teaching is closely linked with improper behavior (2 Tm 3:1–9; 1 Tm 1:3–7; 6:3–10). False teaching is not simply an intellectual or academic issue; it’s always a moral issue as well. Similarly, moral error is linked with doctrinal trouble. The true, apostolic gospel produces godliness in its adherents (Ti 2:11–12).
False teachers are to be rebuked and silenced (1 Tm 1:3; Ti 1:11–13), and their teaching is not to be taken lightly. Such error will upset whole families (Ti 1:11), ruin some people’s faith (2 Tm 2:18), “spread like gangrene” (2 Tm 2:17), and deceive people into thinking they are right with God when they are not (Ti 1:16). Doctrinal error jeopardizes souls and, therefore, must be dealt with firmly and clearly. Hope is held out that false teachers and their followers will repent (2 Tm 2:24–26), in which case they will be received by the church. However, those who persist in teaching false doctrine must be put out of the church (Ti 3:10–11).
Church Leaders in the New Testament
The Pastoral Epistles contain the most detailed discussion in the NT about the office of church leaders. Three main terms are used for church leaders: elders, overseers, and deacons. “Elder” occurs most commonly in the NT (Ac 11:30; 14:23; 15:2, 4, 6, 22–23; 16:4; 20:17; 21:18; 1 Tm 4:14; 5:17, 19; Ti 1:5; 1 Pt 5:1–5). “Overseer” is the term used in the list of qualifications in 1 Tm 3:1–7 (see also Php 1:1). In the list of qualifications in Ti 1:5–9, the terms “elder” and “overseer” occur together (as in Ac 20:28). Because of the use of “elder” and “overseer” together (and the use of the verb form “oversee” as a duty of “elders” in 1 Pt 5:1–5), scholars commonly agree that they refer to the same office. Even those who do not agree still group them together in distinction from “deacons.” There are then two main offices of church leaders: overseers/elders and deacons.
Qualifications. The primary texts on qualifications for these church leaders are 1 Tm 3 and Ti 1:5–9. Overseers/elders are addressed in 1 Tm 3:1–7 and Ti 1:5–9. Deacons are addressed in 1 Tm 3:8–13 (also see Ac 6). These qualifications focus more on Christian character than on ability or duties. Church leaders are to be those whose lives are shaped by the gospel. They are to embody the message both personally and in their home life.
Duties. Overseers must be able to teach sound doctrine and to refute false teachers (1 Tm 3:2; Ti 1:9). First Timothy 5:17 says special honor should be given to those who preach and teach. The repeated exhortations throughout the Pastoral Epistles for faithful, sound teaching also demonstrate the importance of the teaching duty of church leaders (e.g., 1 Tm 1:18; 4:6, 11; 6:2–3; 2 Tm 2:14; 4:1–2; Ti 2:1; 3:8). There is also a significant degree of authority in this teaching (e.g., Ti 2:15), though it is to be used in gentleness (2 Tm 2:24–26).
Deacons are not required to be able to teach. This is a key distinction in the offices. There is no explicit mention of the duty of deacons in the Pastoral Epistles. They would appear to assist the overseers. If Ac 6 refers to the first deacons (which seems likely), deacons assisted elders by attending to specific needs in the congregation and in that way guarded the unity of the church.
In addition to teaching, overseers are to lead the church and oversee the members. Teaching, guiding, and living holy lives are ways in which elders guard and shepherd the souls of their flock (Ac 20; 1 Tm 4:16; Heb 13:17).
The Greek word doulos (“slave, servant”) is used 126 times in the NT and at least once in all but six of the NT books. This frequency should not be surprising since virtually all cultures of the first-century Mediterranean world practiced slavery.
Even though slavery was widespread, the conditions varied from place to place. The Greek and Roman economies were slave-based, since such a large percentage of their populations was indentured. Estimates indicate that roughly one-fifth of the people in Rome were slaves, and in other large cities maybe as many as one-third. In Palestine, however, slavery was not nearly as common, and the Qumran community near the Dead Sea was one of the few ancient groups to forbid slavery.
Slavery of the first-century world needs to be distinguished from slavery of the New World (and elsewhere) in the seventeenth, eighteenth, and nineteenth centuries. Most significant, slavery of the Greco-Roman world was not based on race. Slaves could not be identified by nationality, because slavery was not limited to certain ethnic groups. Instead, the Greco-Roman slave system was populated variously by prisoners of war, litigants found liable in the courts, financial debtors, freeborn children who were abandoned or sold, or most commonly by children born to women who were slaves.
Perspectives on slavery varied as well. Some Greek writers spoke of their slaves as “living tools.” Based on the Torah, however, Jewish slaves were to be granted important privileges such as a weekly Sabbath, restrictions from certain abuses, and circumcision in order to share in community worship.
Due to their status in the Greco-Roman world, slaves did not have personal rights regarding work or travel, but slaves could own personal property and hold their own beliefs. Unlike the New World slaves, first-century slaves had freedom to assemble, and slavery was not considered a lifelong indenturement. An elderly slave was a rare exception in the Greco-Roman world, since most slaves gained their freedom by their thirties or forties.
The NT frequently mentions slavery, sometimes literally but often metaphorically. Slaves are called to render their service obediently and cheerfully, and masters are instructed to be fair and considerate (Eph 6:5–9; Col 3:22–4:1; 1 Pt 2:18–20). In an egalitarian spirit, Paul envisions the new people of God as being neither “slave” nor “free” (1 Co 7:21–24; Gl 3:28; Phm 16). Metaphorically, Paul often refers to himself as a “servant” (doulos) of Christ Jesus, which is an appropriate analogy since Jesus is his “Lord” (or “master” or “owner”; Gk kyrios; see Col 4:1; Eph 6:9). Furthermore, Paul’s concept of redemption seems to be largely based on the manumission of slaves.
The Deity and Humanity of Christ
Christians believe Jesus Christ is a person who is both human and divine. Existing as one person, he nonetheless possesses two “natures,” and, in the words of the Chalcedonian Formula (451), he has these natures “without confusion, without change, without division, without separation; the distinction of natures being in no way annulled by the union.” This belief, which is at the very heart of the Christian faith, is grounded in the Bible’s witness to both the humanity and the divinity of Jesus Christ.
The humanity of Jesus is attested to in several ways. The genealogies of Jesus (Mt 1:1–17; Lk 3:23–38) bear witness to the fact that he was the descendant of particular human ancestors. The NT says that he was born with the “likeness of humanity” or nature (Php 2:7), and that he developed (Lk 1:80; 2:40, 52) and became a tradesman (Mt 13:55; Mk 6:3). The Gospels are unembarrassed about the fact that Jesus was hungry (Mt 4:2; 21:18) and thirsty (Mt 25:35; Jn 19:28), as well as exhausted on many occasions (e.g., Mt 8:24). The emotional life of Jesus is on full display in the Gospels: he exhibits anger and wrath (e.g., Mk 3:5; 11:15–19), compassion (e.g., Mt 9:36; 14:14; 15:32; Lk 13:34; Jn 11:35), and sorrow (e.g., Mt 23:37; Lk 19:41). His knowledge (at least as human) is shown to be limited (Mk 5:30–33; 13:32; Lk 2:52), and he exhibits great stress and agony in the garden of Gethsemane (Lk 22:42–44; cf. Mt 26:37–38). And most notably, Jesus dies from the crucifixion. John 1:14 clearly says that the eternal Word “became” flesh, and this testimony to the full and complete humanity of Jesus is echoed in 1 Jn 1:1.
The deity of Christ is also attested in Scripture. Jesus is worshiped by the earliest Christians, which shows that his first followers understood he was more than merely human (e.g., Jn 18:6; 1 Co 16:22; Heb 1:6; Rv 22:20). They believed Jesus to be preexistent (Jn 1:1–2; 1 Co 8:6; Php 2:5–11; Col 1:15–16; Heb 1:5–6; Rv 1:17; 2:8; 22:13), for a good reason: Jesus himself claims preexistence and deity (Jn 8:58; 13:19). The NT goes further, claiming that Jesus performed works only God is able to do. Jesus Christ is the Creator (Jn 1:3; cf. Col 1:16; Heb 1:10). He is the one who sustains the cosmos; he is the one who has defeated death (2 Tm 1:10) and whose lordship is eternal (Heb 1:8). He has the authority to pronounce forgiveness of sins (e.g., Mk 2:5–11; Lk 5:24; Rm 10:9, 13), and he claims that he will be the final judge who holds the destiny of all in his hands (e.g., Mt 25:31–46; Rm 2:16; 2 Th 1:7–8). Indeed, the exalted status of the man Jesus is portrayed as nothing less than complete unity and equality with the Father, for the Son is the “exact expression” of God’s being (Heb 1:3), and he claims to be “one” with God (Jn 10:30; 17:22) as in him the “entire fullness of God’s nature dwells bodily” (Col 2:9). It is no wonder, then, that the titles of Christ testify to his divinity, most notably, the Pauline uses of “Lord” with reference to Jesus (e.g., Php 2:10–11; cf. Is 45:23). When Paul says that “there is one God, the Father. . . . And there is one Lord, Jesus Christ ” (1 Co 8:6), he is including Jesus in the Shema (Dt 6:4). Finally, the NT does not shrink from referring to Jesus directly as God (Jn 1:1, 18; 20:28; Rm 9:5; Ti 2:13; Heb 1:8–9; 2 Pt 1:1).
Throughout the book, Hebrews has two very distinct types of literature: exposition and exhortation. These alternate back and forth, weaving a tapestry of concepts and rhetorical tools used to call the reader of Hebrews to endure in following Christ. The expositional material focuses on the person and work of Christ, while the exhortation material uses various means to motivate readers of the book to respond positively to God’s Word. Among the various tools the author uses to exhort readers (e.g., promises and warnings, positive and negative examples), the warnings play a striking role, confronting readers with noticeably harsh language, calling them to turn away from a path that leads to the judgment of God.
There are five main warning passages in Hebrews: Heb 2:1–4; 4:12–13; 6:4–8; 10:26–31; and Heb 12:25–29. Each builds on the broader theological teachings in the book, and each concerns the Word of God and God’s judgment on those who do not respond well to God’s Word. Three of these warnings (Heb 2:1–4; 10:26–31; and Heb 12:25–29) are built around arguments “from lesser to greater” (called a fortiori arguments), which reason that if something is true in a lesser situation, it certainly is true in a greater situation and has greater implications.
For instance, in Heb 2:1–4 the “lesser” situation is the receiving of the Word of God, through angels, under the old covenant, and the “greater” situation is the hearing of the word of the gospel. The author reasons, if under the old covenant those who rejected God’s Word delivered through angels were punished, how much greater punishment is deserved by those who reject the word of the gospel given by God’s superior Son?
Although we often read Heb 4:12–13 positively as a melodious reflection on the power of God’s Word, this warning functions to echo the treatment of Ps 95, quoted in Heb 3:7–11. Those who do not listen to God’s voice experience God’s Word as a word of judgment.
Throughout the history of the church, Heb 6:4–8 has prompted the spilling of much ink in discussion of the theological issue of apostasy. Here the author uses “wilderness wandering” language (Heb 6:4–6), language of crucifixion (Heb 6:6), and agricultural imagery (Heb 6:7–8) to describe those in his own era who have turned their backs on Christ and the church.
Similarly harsh language occurs in Heb 10:26–31, where, again using an argument from lesser to greater, the author describes those who reject Christ as having trampled him underfoot, as treating his blood as unworthy of sacrifice, and as having insulted the Spirit of grace.
Finally, in Heb 12:25–29, the author again warns that God, who speaks from heaven, must not be rejected, for, as prophesied in Hg 2:6, the day is coming when God will shake the heavens and the earth. In other words, a day of reckoning approaches.
These five warning passages of Hebrews seek to do much more than instruct; they motivate and challenge the audience to endure in following Jesus.
Hebrews makes much of “high priest” imagery (Heb 2:17; 3:1; 4:14–15; 5:1, 5, 10; 6:20; 7:26–8:1; 8:3; 9:7, 11, 25; 13:11) and is the only NT book to speak of Christ as “high priest.”
In the OT, Aaron is the first high priest, and his descendants are to serve as his successors (Ex 29:29–30). The high priest is to be especially holy, as shown by his consecration to his position and his special garments, which include a turban inscribed with “HOLY TO THE LORD” (Ex 28:36), a richly embroidered robe, and an ephod with its jewel-adorned breastplate (Ex 29:1–37; Lv 6:19–22; 8:5–35). The twelve jewels of the breastplate represent the twelve tribes, symbolizing the high priest as the representative of the people of God.
Hebrews capitalizes on the image of the high priest in a number of ways. The author summarizes the role of the high priest in Heb 5:1–4, and this lays the foundation for the author’s reflections on Jesus as high priest. First, the high priest, taken from “among men,” has a special solidarity with the people (Heb 5:1). Exodus 28:1 says Aaron is brought to Moses “from the Israelites,” and the author of Hebrews might have this passage in mind. So too Jesus is a merciful high priest who sympathizes with people (Heb 2:17; 4:15).
Second, although the high priest has certain responsibilities in common with priests in general (Heb 5:1), the high priest alone offers the sacrifice on the Day of Atonement (Ex 29:1–46; Lv 16:1–25), and he alone can go into the most holy place to offer that sacrifice. The Day of Atonement sacrifice involves two goats and a ram. One of the goats is offered as a sin offering; the other is sent into the desert by the high priest, after he has laid hands on its head and confessed the sins of the people (Lv 16:15, 20–22). This backdrop points to the main way Hebrews appropriates the high priest imagery. Yet Christ’s sacrifice is superior in three ways: his blood has been shed, rather than the blood of animals; Jesus entered the heavenly holy place rather than the earthly tabernacle; and Jesus’s sacrifice, rather than being made annually, was made once for all time (Heb 9:1–10:18).
Third, on the Day of Atonement the high priest also has to offer a sacrifice for himself and his household prior to offering the sacrifice for the people (Heb 5:3; Lv 16:11). This sacrifice deals with the high priest’s own weakness (Heb 5:2), weakness that enables him to “deal gently with those who are ignorant and are going astray” (Heb 5:2). By contrast, Christ needs no such sacrifice, since he is without sin (Heb 4:15; 7:26–28).
A fourth general principle of high priesthood in Heb 5:1–4 concerns how one becomes a high priest. High priests don’t enlist but rather are appointed by God (Heb 5:1, 4; Ex 28:1; Lv 8:1; Nm 16:5). Thus the foundation for the position of high priest rests in the authority of God. This is true of Jesus (Heb 5:4–6), but Jesus’s appointment is based not on heredity (he is not from the tribe of Levi) but rather on God’s oath, found in Ps 110:4: “You are a priest forever according to the pattern of Melchizedek.” Also, because of his indestructible life, Jesus serves as a high priest eternally (Heb 7:11–25).
Faith and Works in James 2:24 and Galatians 2:15–16
On the surface, these two passages seem to contradict one another. We begin to resolve the apparent contradiction by understanding the situation addressed by the two authors. James and Paul are fighting different problems. James is fighting a “head-knowledge-only” view of faith that neglects works. As a result, he needs to stress the importance of doing works. Paul, however, is fighting against the teaching that works of law are necessary to be a true member of the people of God. Paul needs to emphasize the truth that people are justified by grace through faith in Jesus Christ.
Next, we should notice how James and Paul define faith. James attacks a “faith” that is dead (Jms 2:17, 26), demonic (Jms 2:19), and useless (Jms 2:20). His main point is that true faith is more than mere intellectual assent; true faith works! Paul certainly does not teach that “faith” is only verbal profession (cf. Rm 1:5; Eph 2:8–10). Notice also that both Paul and James use the same person—Abraham—to illustrate what they mean by true faith (Gl 3:6–29; Jms 2:21–24).
We should also look closely at the two passages in question. In Gl 2, Paul is referring to “works” that precede conversion. No one can earn salvation; it is a gift of grace. In contrast, James is referring to works that follow conversion. One who is truly saved will act like it. This sounds a lot like Paul’s emphasis in his letter to Titus.
The two passages are not really contradictory but only apparently contradictory. Paul and James are like soldiers in the same army standing back to back fighting a common enemy coming from different directions. The one true gospel is given by God’s grace and results in our good works. When we tamper with either grace or works, we tamper with the one true gospel.
Persecution in the Early Church
Targeted by hatred and hostility because of their belief in Jesus Christ (Mt 10:22; Mk 13:13; Lk 21:17; Jn 15:18–25; Rv 1:9; 12:17), the early church could suffer verbal (e.g., Mt 5:10–11), social (e.g., Jn 9:22), and economic (e.g., Heb 10:32–34) persecution. Most often, however, persecution in the NT includes some kind of physical harm in opposition to someone’s faith (e.g., Ac 16:19–24), sometimes resulting in death.
While persecutors might have political (e.g., Ac 12:1–3), social (e.g., Ac 17:5), and/or economic (e.g., Ac 19:23–34) influence, persecution in the NT stems primarily from those with religious influence, often from people of the same general faith. For example, the Jews persecute Jesus much like the Israelites treated their own prophets (Ac 7:51–53). With religious authority, Paul persecutes Christians as if they were enemies of God (Ac 9:1–2; 22:3–8; 26:1–15; cf. Jn 16:2). After he comes to faith, Paul’s message that Jesus is God’s Messiah is often met with opposition and persecution from the Jews (e.g., Ac 9:23–25; 20:3, 19; 21:27–36; 23:12–22). Thus Christians suffer persecution from adherents of Judaism (e.g., Ac 5:17–42; 6:8–8:1), sometimes in complicity with Gentiles (e.g., Ac 13:45–52; 14:1–7, 19–20; 17:1–15; 18:5–17; 28:16–20). The NT also describes persecution of Christians due to Gentile instigation (Ac 16:19–24; 19:23–41). Prior to AD 250 various Roman emperors are known to have supported (while not necessarily initiating) persecution of Christians: Nero, Domitian, Trajan, Hadrian, and Marcus Aurelius. Finally, persecution of Christians is even evidenced as coming from other Jesus followers (e.g., Php 1:15–17).
The NT indicates persecution has greater purposes for believers. Persecuted believers share in the sufferings of Christ (Rm 8:14–17; 2 Co 1:3–7; Php 3:10–11; 1 Pt 4:13). With salvation accomplished only by Christ’s suffering (Heb 9:24–10:23), persecution serves an identification purpose, showing connectedness to Christ and his people (Mk 10:28–31; Ac 5:40–41; 1 Th 2:14; 2 Th 1:3–12; 2 Tm 1:8–12; Heb 11:24–27; 1 Pt 5:9) and the following of Christ’s example (1 Pt 2:19–25). Thus Jesus counts persecution of believers as persecution against himself (Ac 9:4–5; 22:7–8; 26:14–15). Persecution services evangelism. Christ suffered to accomplish salvation; believers suffer in spreading that message (Mt 10:16–20; Mk 13:9–11; Lk 21:12–15; Col 1:24–25; 2 Tm 2:1–10; e.g., Ac 8:1–4; 11:19–21). Persecution strengthens faith, demonstrating God’s power and keeping him the focus of hope (2 Co 1:8–11; 4:7–15; 6:1–10; 12:7–10). Persecution clears away false believers (Mt 13:18–23; Mk 4:13–20; Lk 8:11–15) and helps render temptation less effective in true believers (1 Pt 4:1–5).
First John contains two direct affirmations about the character of God: “God is light” (1 Jn 1:5) and “God is love” (1 Jn 4:8). What is significant about these aspects of God’s character for the interpretation of 1 John is that they correspond with the major themes in the letter concerning what can be expected of those who know God: obedience and love. The first half of 1 John emphasizes that true children of God obey his commands, while the second half emphasizes that true children of God love those who belong to God’s family.
God is light without any hint of darkness. He shines forth perfect holiness. Therefore, those who know God walk in the light, with the result that they are continuing to be made clean from their sin through the blood of Jesus (1 Jn 1:6–7). To walk in the light involves learning and following God’s ways. Anyone who claims to know God but refuses to obey God is lying and walking in the darkness (1 Jn 2:4; cf. 1 Jn 2:9–11). Those who make it the pattern of their lives to disobey God and to continue in sin have never really been born of God (1 Jn 3:7–10). Instead, those who know and love God make it the pattern of their lives to obey his commands (1 Jn 2:3). They see the light and walk in it.
God is also love. Loving relationship and sacrificial giving belong to the very nature of God. He has revealed his love by sending his Son to die for us so that we might have life through him (1 Jn 4:9–10; cf. 1 Jn 3:16). God has poured out his love toward us by making us his children (1 Jn 3:1). Since God is love, all those who know God and have experienced his love naturally live with love as well (1 Jn 4:7–11). We love because he first loved us (1 Jn 4:19). Our love for others in God’s family serves as evidence that we have in reality moved out of death into life (1 Jn 3:14). It is impossible to know and love God and yet hate the children of God, and anyone who claims to love God while hating a brother or sister is lying (1 Jn 4:20–21). In the context of 1 John, love involves laying down one’s life for others and giving with compassion to those in need (1 Jn 3:16–17). In this way, our love is grounded in the love that we have received in Jesus, who first laid down his life for us in our time of need. Therefore, through faithful obedience and sacrificial love, our lives reflect the God who is both light and love.
The Identity of the Antichrist
Christian speculation about the identity and advent of the antichrist has been a major pastime from the second century until today. In order to stay close to the text and its original meaning, however, we should be aware of several facts. (1) The Greek word antichristos does not appear in Revelation; the term is used only four times in the Bible, in 1 and 2 John (1 Jn 2:18, 22; 4:3; 2 Jn 7). The antichrist passages may have nothing to do with “the beast” in Revelation. (2) Rather than pointing to a single person as “the antichrist,” the three antichristic passages in the Johannine Epistles are primarily plural: they did this or that. (3) Rather than a futuristic threat, the first antichristic passage points to an event in the recent past—a church split. Therefore, “antichrists” is the term used within this Christ-centered community to explain the fact that family and friends have left John’s church and perhaps joined another religious community. (4) The antichrists of 1 Jn 4:1–3 and 2 Jn 7 are not former schismatic threats but present and impending invasive threats. They are false teachers, not community-abandoning schismatics. (5) The problematic theological content of the two antichristic groups is entirely different, and the groups probably represent two threats, not one. The first refuses to believe that Jesus was the Messiah; the second refuses to believe that Jesus came in the flesh. The anti-Messiah predictions of long ago have now come to rest on the Johannine community, but the warnings of the elder are contemporary—addressed to his immediate audience—not futuristic predictions.
The phrase “elect lady” in 2 Jn 1 may refer to women leaders in this sector of early Christianity, especially as the woman in whose home a house church met would have had special authority in offering hospitality and in guiding community life. A larger home would have been a more likely place to hold worship than a smaller one; and within such settings the man of the home would have taken leadership in the public sphere, but the woman of the home would have taken leadership domestically, managing servants and welcoming guests. Her responsibilities would likely have extended to the leading of worship.
The high place of women in the Gospel of John, featuring the Samaritan woman as the apostle to the Samaritans, Martha as uttering a climactic christological confession, her sister Mary as the anointer of Jesus’s feet, the mother of Jesus and other women as faithful to Jesus at the cross, and Mary Magdalene as the apostle to the apostles, this featuring of women in leadership and ministry reflects a more primitive epoch in the history of the early church than the more patriarchal developments soon to follow. The Second Epistle of John appears to follow this pattern as an established one. Then again, the reference to the chosen lady’s “sister” in 2 Jn 13 could suggest a feminine reference to a connected church community, as the reference to “the children of your elect sister” sending their greetings seems to refer to a community if not another female Christian leader.
Hospitality in the Johannine Epistles
The Letter of 3 John commends a man by the name of Gaius for showing hospitality to traveling missionaries, even though they were strangers to him when they arrived. The letter also encourages Gaius to continue responding in the same way when other opportunities arise (3 Jn 5–8). Such hospitality would have included providing the travelers with food and a place to sleep, and therefore with public recognition as people worthy of honor and support. In addition, John considers it appropriate “to send them on their journey in a manner worthy of God” (3 Jn 6). In other words, John is calling on Gaius to provide them with sufficient food and financial support to enable them to reach the next stop in their journey. Paul uses the same expression in his letter to Titus, asking that Zenas and Apollos might be sent on their way and might therefore have everything they need (Ti 3:13; cf. Rm 15:24; 1 Co 16:6, 11; 2 Co 1:16). Such support could be offered at various levels, and John calls for a provision that errs on the side of generosity, since it is directed toward those who work for God.
Who were these recipients of Gaius’s hospitality? They were apparently missionaries who left their homes for the sake of Jesus’s name in order to bring the message of truth to unbelievers. They had no intention of receiving any financial help from those they hoped to reach with the message of Christ (3 Jn 7). Therefore, they were dependent solely on other Christians for support. Believers like Gaius who showed them hospitality joined with them in their ministry and by doing so became fellow workers for the truth (3 Jn 8).
The Letter of 3 John also criticizes a man named Diotrephes for failing to welcome these traveling Christian workers. His refusal to show hospitality grew out of his desire to have all the attention in the church directed toward him (3 Jn 9–10). The Letter of 2 John touches on another problem related to hospitality, although in a different direction. In that letter, John finds it necessary to warn a congregation not to welcome false teachers to stay in their homes and not to offer them support (2 Jn 10–11). Such hospitality would serve only to spread the destructive work of false teachers who insist that Jesus Christ was not fully human (2 Jn 7). Shortly after the time of the NT, an early Christian document shows that church leaders also found it necessary to warn congregations not to take in and support charlatans who were seeking to take advantage of believers (Didache 11–12). Hospitality calls for a balance of generosity and wisdom.
Numbers play an important literary and structural role in Revelation. Whether the numbers are to be interpreted literally or symbolically is much debated. The meaning of some numbers is interpreted. For example, in Rv 1:20 the seven stars and seven golden lampstands are identified as seven angels and seven churches. However, most numbers are not interpreted. Revelation’s numerology draws on ancient Jewish cosmology in the OT. The numbers four, seven, twelve, and their multiples have particular significance.
Four stands for cosmic completeness and is the number of living creatures around the throne. Four angels restrain the four winds in the four corners of the earth from prematurely harming the earth before the saints can be sealed.
Seven is the most frequently used number and symbolizes perfection and completeness. The Holy Spirit is repeatedly called the “seven spirits” or “sevenfold Spirit.” Seven is also used as a structuring device. Revelation is addressed to seven churches in Asia (Rv 1:11; 2:1–3:22). The three judgment cycles feature seven seals (Rv 6:1–8:1), seven trumpets (Rv 8:2–11:19), and seven bowls of seven plagues (Rv 15:1–16:21). The great prostitute sits on a beast with seven heads. The number’s meaning here is polyvalent: the seven heads are interpreted both as Rome’s seven hills and also as seven kings who ruled the empire in the first century (Rv 17:3, 9). The identity of these seven emperors is much debated by scholars.
Probably the best-known number in Revelation is 666. John exhorts his audience to calculate the number of the beast—a man—using this isopsephism, or gematria (Rv 13:18). In the Greek and Hebrew languages, letters were also used as numbers. The sum of the letters in a name could thus be converted to a number. Throughout church history there has been much speculation about this individual’s identity, and various antichrist figures have been associated with 666. Many scholars believe that 666 refers to the Hebrew gematria of the Emperor Nero, NERON KAISAR. Nero conducted the first general persecution of Christians after the fire in Rome in AD 64, and during his reign both Peter and Paul were martyred.
The number twelve likewise represents completeness as well as unity in diversity. Twelve doubled equals the twenty-four elders on twenty-four thrones around the heavenly throne (4:4). There are twelve gates in the heavenly city inscribed with the names of the twelve tribes of Israel. There are also twelve foundations; on them are the names of the twelve apostles (Rv 21:12, 14). The square of twelve is the thickness of the city, 144 cubits; twelve times one thousand is the size of the city cubed (Rv 21:16–17). Twelve squared times one thousand equals the number of God’s servants from the twelve tribes of Israel, the 144,000 (Rv 7:4; 14:1, 3).
The Seven Churches of Revelation 2–3
Ephesus. Ephesus (Rv 2:1–7), whose harbor, roads, location, wealth, and special privileges with Rome made it an axis of trade in the Mediterranean, was the most cosmopolitan of the seven cities. Home to the imperial cult, it boasted magnificent temples dedicated to the emperors Domitian and Hadrian. It was also the site for one of the seven wonders of the ancient world: the Artemision, the temple of Artemis (goddess of the hunt and fertility). The Artemision was famous for its size, with a platform spanning over one hundred thousand square feet, and for its tree shrine at the center. The temple functioned as a place of asylum for fleeing criminals and symbolized abundant life. It also served as a bank that could receive huge monetary deposits.
Smyrna. Smyrna (Rv 2:8–11) was a large port city known for its architectural achievements and aesthetic appeal. Its coins read: “Smyrna, first in Asia . . . for its beauty and splendor.” Smyrna was known for its magnificent buildings and numerous temples (including one to the imperial cult). When viewed from a distance, Smyrna looked like a crown resting on the summit of a hill. In the sixth century BC, the city had been destroyed by the king of Lydia but was later rebuilt to its former glory in 290 BC. Because of its death and rebirth, Smyrna was likened to the legendary phoenix, which dies in flame and reincarnates from its ashes. The apostolic father Polycarp, bishop of Smyrna, was executed in this city by fire and sword.
Pergamum. Pergamum (Rv 2:12–17) was situated on a plateau some one thousand feet above the Caicus River Valley and stood prominently in the expanse of the Mysian Hills. The city was known for its great libraries, parchment materials, large theater, and many shrines (including the ones to Zeus, Athena, Asclepius, Hygeia, and Apollo). The temple of the Sebastoi (Gk for “the venerated ones,” referring to Augustus Caesar and his successors) in Pergamum was the first imperial temple erected in Asia Minor (29 BC). Of the three greatest cities in Roman Asia (i.e., Ephesus, Smyrna, and Pergamum), the imperial cult was the most influential in Pergamum. Every five years or so, the Pergamene games were held in honor of the imperial family. It was a circus of epic proportions.
Thyatira. Thyatira (Rv 2:18–29), unlike the other cities of Asia Minor, lay on almost level ground and was bordered by rising hills. Although vulnerable to invasion, Thyatira had a prosperous exporting business because of the various roads that ran through the city and connected it to the Greek East. The first Christian convert in Macedonia—Lydia, a merchant of purple linens—was originally from Thyatira (Ac 16:14–15). Thyatira’s guild of dyers was prominent, along with its clothiers, linen workers, and coppersmiths.
Sardis. Sardis (Rv 3:1–6) had a reputation for wealth that exceeded its reality. According to an early Greek legend, King Midas washed off the cursed touch that turned everything into gold by bathing in the Pactolus River, which ran through Sardis. Sardis in its early history prospered through gold deposits discovered in the river. During the Roman era, however, Sardis became prosperous through its textile industry, its important trade routes, and its fertile plains. It had at least two temples on site, one to Augustus and the other to Artemis. In AD 17, Sardis suffered from a sudden earthquake. With help from the emperors Tiberius and Claudius, Sardis was rebuilt. It quickly regained part of its former prosperity and sought the right to renew the imperial cult.
Philadelphia. Legend has it that Philadelphia (Rv 3:7–13) was named after two rulers of the Attalid dynasty, the brothers Eumenes II and Attalus II Philadelphus. Philadelphia was known as the “gate” or “door” because it stood at the juncture of two major road systems. One road ran north from Ephesus and through a pass above the Cogamis Valley, while the other road ran east of Philadelphia through the Phrygian province. Philadelphia experienced the benefits and burdens of living in a volcanic area called the Katakaumenē (literally “burned over”), which provided rich, fertile soil for the city’s large vineyards but because of frequent tremors also sent citizens fleeing from the city. Philadelphia, along with Sardis and Laodicea, experienced the infamous earthquake of AD 17 that leveled all three urban centers. When Philadelphia was rebuilt with Roman aid, the city was renamed “Neocaesarea” to honor the imperial family, and later “Philadelphia Flavia” to honor the Flavian emperor Vespasian.
Laodicea. The city of Laodicea (Rv 3:14–22), compared with Hierapolis and Colossae, was the most prominent of the three cities in the Lycus River Valley. A trade route that connected Laodicea with Ephesus, along with lesser roads north to Hierapolis and east to Colossae, allowed for a prosperous exporting business. The city was a central hub between the three regions of Lydia, Phrygia, and Caria. Laodicea’s textile industry was known for a fine, dark wool. The city was also a banking center, exchanging Roman coinage, gold, and other items of deposit for local currency. Laodicea was so wealthy that when the infamous earthquake of AD 17 struck, it was the only city that refused Roman aid. It was home to a medical school that prized among its other healing drugs an ointment for burns.
Seals Rv 6:1–8:1 | Trumpets Rv 8:2–11:19 |
Interlude—Rv 12:1–14:20 |
Bowls Rv 15:1–16:21 | |
1 | White horse—military conquest | Hail and fire, mixed with blood, burn up one-third of earth | Sores on those with beast’s mark | |
2 | Red horse—violent bloodshed | Burning mountain causes one-third of sea to turn to blood and destroys one-third of creatures and ships | Sea turns to blood and everything in it dies | |
3 | Black horse—famine | Blazing star (Wormwood) turns one-third of fresh water bitter, killing many people | Rivers and springs turn to blood | |
4 | Pale horse—Death and Hades bring death to one-quarter of earth | One-third of sun, moon, and stars turn dark | Sun scorches people with fire and they curse God | |
5 | Martyrs cry out to God for vindication and are told to wait | Fallen star opens Abyss, releasing locust-scorpions to harm those without seal of God for five months | Throne of beast cursed with darkness. Again, people in agony curse God | |
6 | Shaking of entire cosmos followed by wicked attempting to hide from wrath of God and Lamb | Release of four angels bound at Euphrates who then raise an army of serpent-lions to kill one-third of people on earth | River Euphrates dries up as demonic forces gather kings of earth for battle at Armageddon | |
Interlude—Rv 7:1–17 | Interlude—Rv 10:1–11:14 | No interlude | ||
7 | Silence and seven trumpets | Christ’s kingdom arrives as elders thank God for his judgment, rewarding of saints, and vindication of his people | Voice from temple says, “It is done,” followed by storm-quake and destruction of Babylon by God. Islands and mountains disappear and huge hailstones fall on people who respond by cursing God | |
Storm-earthquake at Rv 8:3–5 | Storm-earthquake at Rv 11:19 | Storm-earthquake at Rv 16:18 |
The Imperial Cult in the Book of Revelation
The imperial cult, or ruler cult, was a religious and political institution in which the Roman emperor was worshiped as a divine being. It was widespread in the Roman Empire in the first three centuries AD, with its center being in the eastern Mediterranean, particularly Asia Minor. Offering divine honors to rulers was not native to the Romans but developed under Greek influence.
An antecedent of the cult was the worship of Alexander the Great, who was declared a god at Siwa in 331 BC. The Hellenistic rulers who succeeded him were likewise accorded divine honors. The erection of a statue of Antiochus IV in the temple of Jerusalem was one of the provocations for the Maccabean revolt in 167 BC. After his assassination in 42 BC, Julius Caesar was deified by the Roman Senate. The Romans would give divine honors to their rulers only after death, while the Greeks would worship living emperors as gods.
In 29 BC Caesar’s adopted son, Augustus, authorized the Greek provincial assemblies (koina) to construct the first imperial cult temples in Pergamum and Nicomedia, the provincial capitals. These temples, dedicated to Augustus and Roma, the patron goddess of Rome, were for the Greeks in Asia and Bithynia. For the Roman residents, Augustus granted Ephesus and Nicea the right to dedicate a sacred precinct to Divus Julius and Dea Roma. In AD 26 Tiberius chose Smyrna to become the temple keeper (neokoros) for Asia’s second imperial cult temple. Smyrna was a longtime ally of Rome, having established the first temple in the east to Dea Roma in 195 BC (Polycarp, the bishop of Smyrna, was martyred in AD 156 for refusing to offer incense to the emperor).
Gaius Caligula (AD 12–41) was the first emperor to demand worship from his subjects while he was still living. The imperial cult sanctuary built for him in Miletus was closed by the Roman Senate after his assassination in AD 41. Ephesus received its first neocorate (a rank granted by the Roman Senate for building a temple for emperor worship) in AD 89/90 when Domitian built the temple of the Sebastoi there. The refusal of Christians to worship the emperor appears to underline the tensions with the state depicted in Rv 13. It was probably one of the reasons John was exiled to Patmos (Rv 1:9).
The principal official of the provincial assembly (koinon) was the imperial cult’s chief priest. This official, chosen annually, is regarded by most interpreters as the second beast out of the earth (Rv 13:11–17). The identification of Pergamum as the throne of Satan (Rv 2:13) probably refers to the city as a center of imperial cult activity. The woman seated on seven hills in Rv 17:9 is the personification of Dea Roma.
The imperial cult existed in other biblical cities in the first century. Coins document the presence of a temple in Antioch on the Orontes. In AD 25 the assembly of Galatia authorized the construction of imperial cult temples in the capital Ancyra and at Pisidian Antioch. On the walls of the Greek-style temple in Ancyra is the bilingual Greek and Latin inscription of the Res Gestae, a biographical propaganda piece detailing the deeds of Augustus. Fragments of the same inscription were found in the entrance gate of the Roman-style temple at Pisidian Antioch. Imperial cult worship was likewise practiced in Greece and Macedonia, especially in Roman colonies such as Corinth and Philippi. Josephus reports that Augustus built three imperial cult temples in Judea: at Caesarea Maritima, at Sebaste in Samaria, and at Caesarea Philippi.
Statues of the emperor, which John calls the image of the beast (Rv 13:14–15), were erected in the cult temples. Processions, sacrifices, and games were likewise held in the emperor’s honor. It has been questioned whether the imperial cult met any religious needs of the people or was just a political institution. The cult seemingly contained genuine religious content as the worshipers expressed devotion to their ruler. The emperor as an incarnation of god was thought to bring order and stability to daily life, viewed generally as governed by capricious Fate. It is little wonder the early Christians came into sharp conflict with the imperial cult. Emperors were called such names as divus (divine), savior, lord, creator, and son of god—the same names that Christians used for Jesus Christ. Christians were to submit to the emperor (Rm 13:1; 1 Pt 2:13) but never to pray or sacrifice to him.
Three major interpretive views are related to the issue of the millennium. Premillennialism (“pre” meaning “before”) is the view that Christ will return before establishing an earthly reign with his saints for a thousand years. This may or may not be a literal thousand-year period of time, but it will be a full and complete earthly reign. Many premillennialists understand the millennium to be the fulfillment of many Old Testament prophecies portraying the son of David ruling over a kingdom of righteousness and peace on earth. Premillennialists tend to take Rv 19–21 as a sequence of events occurring at the end of the age. Christ will return (Rv 19), Satan will be bound, and the saints resurrected to reign with Christ for a thousand years (Rv 20:1–6). Then Satan will be released for a final rebellion before his ultimate defeat (Rv 20:7–10). Then comes the last resurrection and the final judgment (Rv 20:11–15), followed by the new heaven and new earth (Rv 21).
Postmillennialism (“post” meaning “after”) believes that Christ will return after the millennium. Postmillennialists maintain that the gospel of Christ will eventually triumph and bring about the millennial age (e.g., wars cease, peace and righteousness prevail, the conversion of most of humanity). This view is founded on the notion of progress, since it is the progress of the gospel rather than the return of Christ that ushers in the spiritual reign of Christ known as the millennium. The millennium will be followed by the return of Christ, a general resurrection and judgment, and the eternal kingdom.
Amillennialism (“a” meaning “no”) contends that there will not be a visible, earthly millennial reign of Christ. This view stresses the symbolic nature of Revelation and interprets Rv 20:4–6 as symbolizing either (1) the heavenly reign of Christ with Christians who have already died and are now with the Lord, or (2) the spiritual reign of Christ during the present age in the hearts of believers on earth. Satan has been bound by the gospel of Christ. At the end of history and as part of the transition to the eternal state there will be the return of Christ, a general resurrection, and a last judgment.
Genesis 1–11 | Revelation 19–22 | |
Sinful people scattered | God’s people unite to sing his praises | 19:6–7 |
“Marriage” of Adam and Eve | Marriage of Last Adam and his bride, the church | 19:7; 21:2, 9 |
God abandoned by sinful people | God’s people (New Jerusalem, bride of Christ) made ready for God; marriage of Lamb | 19:7–8; 21:2, 9–21 |
Exclusion from bounty of Eden | Invitation to marriage supper of Lamb | 19:9 |
Satan introduces sin into world | Satan and sin are judged | 19:11–21; 20:7–10 |
The Serpent deceives humanity | The ancient Serpent is bound “so that he would no longer deceive the nations” | 20:2–3 |
God gives humans dominion over the earth | God’s people will reign with him forever | 20:4, 6; 22:5 |
People rebel against the true God resulting in physical and spiritual death | God’s people risk death to worship the true God and thus experience life | 20:4–6 |
Sinful people sent away from life | God’s people have their names written in the Book of Life | 20:4–6, 15; 21:6, 27 |
Death enters the world | Death is put to death | 20:14; 21:4 |
God creates first heaven and earth, eventually cursed by sin | God creates a new heaven and a new earth where sin is nowhere to be found | 21:1 |
Water symbolizes unordered chaos | There is no longer any sea (symbol of evil) | 21:1 |
Sin brings pain and tears | God comforts his people and removes crying and pain | 21:4 |
Sinful humanity cursed with wandering (exile) | God’s people given a permanent home | 21:3 |
Community forfeited | Genuine community experienced | 21:3, 7 |
Sinful people are banished from presence of God | God lives among his people | 21:3, 7, 22; 22:4 |
Creation begins to grow old and die | All things are made new | 21:5 |
Water used to destroy wicked humanity | God quenches thirst with water from spring of life | 21:6; 22:1 |
“In the beginning God . . .” | “I am the Alpha and the Omega, the Beginning and the End” | 21:6 |
Sinful humanity suffers a wandering exile in the land | God gives his children an inheritance | 21:7 |
Sin enters the world | Sin banished from God’s city | 21:8, 27; 22:15 |
Sinful humanity separated from presence of holy God | God’s people experience God’s holiness (cubed city = most holy place) | 21:15–21 |
God creates light and separates it from darkness | No more night or natural light; God himself is the source of light | 21:23; 22:5 |
Languages of sinful humanity confused | God’s people is a multicultural people | 21:24, 26; 22:2 |
Sinful people sent away from garden | New heaven/earth includes a garden | 22:2 |
Sinful people forbidden to eat from tree of life | God’s people may eat freely from the tree of life | 22:2, 14 |
Sin results in spiritual sickness | God heals the nations | 22:2 |
Sinful people cursed | The curse removed from redeemed humanity and they become a blessing | 22:3 |
Sinful people refuse to serve/obey God | God’s people serve him | 22:3 |
Sinful people ashamed in God’s presence | God’s people will “see his face” | 22:4 |