It has long been recognized that gift exchange has implications for the negotiation of relative status. The descriptions of putatively “archaic” precapitalist societies that characterized studies of gift exchange following Marcel Mauss’s seminal work provide ample evidence that clan chiefs, “big men,” and elders were accorded a greater share than others in distributive schemes based on gift exchange.1 The result was the unequal distribution of material resources. Possessing a greater share of resources, “big men” were able to give lavishly to other members of the community or to engage in the practice of potlatch—the public destruction of wealth that showcases an individual’s surplus.2 Recipients of gifts who were unable to return something of equal or greater value were burdened by a “gift-debt.” The result was a diminution in status and a concomitant elevation in the status of the lavish donor.3 The asymmetric distribution of material goods reinforced the superior status of the “big man” and confirmed the status of his subordinates. Status is the corollary of gift exchange because the latter objectifies the differential access to economic resources of the parties involved. In such cases, wealth constitutes the basis from which prestige is derived.4
Mauss also described another form of giving with implications for the negotiation of relative status: the potlatch, a curious case of giving in which there is no evident recipient. Stated otherwise, the potlatch involves the intentional destruction of property. Mauss describes the potlatch as practiced by indigenous peoples in the American Northwest in the early 1900s:
Consumption and destruction of goods really go beyond all bounds. In certain kinds of potlatch one must expend all that one has, keeping nothing back. It is a competition to see who is the richest and also the most madly extravagant. Everything is based upon the principles of antagonism and rivalry. The political status of individuals in the brotherhoods and clans, and ranks of all kinds, are gained in a “war of property,” just as they are in a real war. . . . Whole boxes of olachen (candlefish) oil or whale oil are burnt, as are houses and thousands of blankets. The most valuable copper objects are broken and thrown into the water, in order to put down and “flatten” one’s rival. In this way one not only promotes oneself, but one’s family, up the social scale.5
More recently, C. A. Gregory has made use of the idea of the potlatch—an intentional destruction of property meant to showcase one’s unhampered access to material resources and thereby to accrue honor and prestige as the concomitants of wealth—in his analysis of giving to churches in Melanesia.6 Various clans compete to offer the largest donation to the church, which subsequently removes those assets from local circulation in a metaphoric “destruction” of property. In this system, gifts to the church are construed as gifts to God.
In the mundane sphere of interpersonal relations, status is attained on the basis of donations; gifts of goods and services that cannot be reciprocated on an equal basis are characteristic of patron-client relations. During the Roman period, clients unable fully to repay the gifts of their patrons were reduced to subordinate status and were obliged to render service through actions calculated to enhance the status of their donors: publicly praising their magnanimity and attending them on morning walks (the salutatio) or at public events.7
Although the close connection between gift—whether potlatch, “gifts to God/gods,” or gifts between human parties—and status has been thoroughly documented, a related point has not yet been generally recognized. Status is accorded not only as a corollary of exchanges that manifest the differential access to economic resources of the parties involved, but certain types of status may be granted by highly placed political figures in the form of patronal gifts. In such cases, the negotiation of status does not occur as a sociopolitical effect of the gift; status itself constitutes the gift. The letters of Paul, too, attest “gifts of status,” and such “gifts” bear significant implications for the sociopolitical organization of early Christian assemblies. Before turning to examine Paul’s statements on the topic, however, a definition of the multivalent term “status” is required.
“Status” is an English loanword from Latin, where the term literally denotes bodily posture or physical stature and by extension refers to one’s political or social situation.8 The term also denotes public rights and civil situation, particularly regarding citizenship and legal status as slave or free, as well as one’s social position defined in terms of political office, trade, reputation, or character.9 Taking the formulations of Max Weber as a point of departure, John Scott understands status as a correlate of the stratification present in complex societies; it refers to the relative rank that one holds within a hierarchically ordered social system. Conceptually distinct from economic class (although often correlated with it),10 status is derived from “the [unequal] distribution of prestige or social honour within a community.”11 Prestige is allocated on the basis of communal judgments concerning the degree to which an individual or group conforms to the evaluative criteria for exemplary behavior recognized by the community. Those whose behavior is deemed to conform to the values and norms promoted by the group are accorded honor and prestige.12 Status refers to one’s relative ranking with respect to the degree of honor and prestige accorded one by the community; it is one’s “standing or reputation in the eyes of others.”13 Lorne Tepperman and James Curtis offer a similar definition: “Status reflects an individual’s position in society according to the relative prestige, esteem, or honour they are afforded.”14
Not all sociologists accept this definition, however. In contrast with both Scott and Tepperman and Curtis, John Macionis asserts that “sociologists do not use the term ‘status’ in its everyday meaning of ‘prestige’”; rather, it refers to “a social position that a person occupies,” such as sister, daughter, friend, or parent.15 Having defined “status” in terms of social role or position, Macionis distinguishes two types: “ascribed status,” which refers to “a social position a person receives at birth or assumes involuntarily later in life,” and “achieved status,” which refers to “a social position a person assumes voluntarily and that reflects personal ability and effort.”16
Other researchers define the term “status” differently. Beth Vanfossen identifies as many as six distinct usages of the term, which may refer to: “1) position in society; 2) position in a hierarchy; 3) any social category; 4) any quality indexed by objective characteristics such as income or occupation; 5) prestige; and 6) a collection of rights and duties.”17
The discrepant definitions invite elaboration and clarification. For the purposes of this study, clarity may be achieved by distinguishing two types of status. Positional status is that associated with the fulfillment of a particular position or role within a sociopolitical field that is often organized hierarchically (e.g., father/daughter, senator/equestrian, citizen/alien, master/slave). This is the sense in which Macionis uses the term “status.” Each role is associated with particular rights, duties, and obligations. Roman fathers, for example, were expected to discipline their children18—although not too harshly19—while children were expected to obey their parents.20 In the imperial period, Roman citizens held rights not accorded aliens, such as enhanced legal protections and exemption from certain types of taxation. Slaves had different obligations, and far fewer rights, than did their masters. Note that Macionis’s “ascribed” and “achieved” types of status both fit easily within the broader category of positional status.
The second type, accorded status, is that which is allocated on the basis of communal assessments regarding the excellence or exemplary manner in which one fulfills the duties and obligations associated with a particular social position.21 Accorded status is thus synonymous with “prestige” or “honor”; this is the sense in which Scott as well as Tepperman and Curtis use the term “status.” Note that although positional and accorded status may be distinguished for analytical purposes, in practice they are closely linked: with few exceptions, Roman senators were accorded greater social prestige than equestrians, masters greater prestige than slaves, husbands greater prestige than wives, and so on. Despite this close association, it is important to distinguish the two types of status: Rome had a share of dishonored emperors, senators, and fathers. In such cases, the individual’s positional status often was retained, while accorded status was diminished. An example is that of Claudius, who, although emperor, was not held in high social esteem. Suetonius recounts an episode in which a litigator in court dishonored Claudius with the remark, “You are both an old man and a fool!”22 Conversely, it was possible for those inhabiting relatively low stations of positional honor (slaves, women, or children) to be held in esteem and thus to achieve high accorded status.23 Junia Theodora, honored in a number of Corinthian inscriptions, is an oft-cited example.24
To summarize: both positional and accorded status are relational categories. Positional status entails the fulfillment of a particular position or role within a sociopolitical field; each position is associated with particular rights and obligations. The various roles that constitute a given social system are hierarchically ranked: in the Roman context, for example, parents rank more highly than children, senators more highly than equestrians, citizens more highly than aliens, and so on. Accorded status ranks individuals or groups with respect to the degree of honor and prestige assigned to each. Both positional and accorded status presuppose hierarchical ranking systems.
Whereas accorded status results from the aggregate judgment of the community and cannot be conferred by an individual,25 positional status may be granted by an individual or group endowed with the requisite legal authority. Official positions, titles, and offices—each constituting a particular positional status—may be granted by a governing official or legislative body. In the Roman imperial context, three types of positional status were typically granted by individuals endowed with the requisite legal authority: citizenship, rank or order (Latin ordo), and office. This list, it may be noted, is meant to be illustrative, not exhaustive.
Pliny the Younger, a senator with access to the emperor Trajan, was instrumental in brokering grants of political office and ordo (status as senator or equestrian) for his clients. In a letter to Trajan written in 110 or 111 CE, Pliny makes a request on behalf of Rosianus Geminus, who had served as Pliny’s consular quaestor in 100. The letter reads in part:
So I am requesting your personal indulgence that you should take to your heart his high status [dignitas]. You will also, if you repose any trust in me, grant him your favour [indulgentiam tuam dabis]. He himself will ensure, in the tasks that you enjoin on him, that he is deserving of greater things. . . . I beg you, my lord, to assent at the earliest possible moment to my joy at the illustrious standing [dignitas] of my quaestor, which through him affects my own.26 (Ep. 10.26.2–3)
Although it is unclear exactly what Pliny seeks from Trajan, his repeated reference to Geminus’s “high status” or “worthiness” (dignitas) hints at political advancement.27 As P. G. Walsh notes, “Pliny does not specify a particular role for his friend, for fear of twisting the emperor’s arm, but perhaps he hopes for the governorship of a province for him.”28 The use of the terms dare (“to give, grant”) and indulgentia (“favor, fondness, indulgence”) indicates that Trajan’s ability to grant a political office is understood along familiar lines as a patronal donation, in return for which the emperor could expect Geminus’s exemplary fulfillment of official duties and, if his behavior toward Pliny was any indication, “informal gestures of service” as well (publicae necessitudinis pignera privatis cumulat officiis).29 Pliny requests for his client the gift of positional status, in this case likely in the form of public office.
In another of his letters to Trajan, Pliny requests that the freedman physician Harpocras of Alexandria be granted citizen status. The request is couched in the language of reciprocal gift exchange typical of patron-client relationships. The relevant portion of the letter, written in 98 CE, reads:
Last year, my lord, I was afflicted by an illness so serious that my life was in danger. So I called in a physiotherapist, whose concern and attentiveness I can repay with equal gratitude only by your gracious kindness [cuius sollicitudini et studio tuae tantum indulgentiae beneficio referre gratiam parem possum]. I am therefore asking you to award him Roman citizenship [des ei civitatem Romanam], for he is a foreigner, manumitted by a foreign mistress. His name is Harpocras, and his patroness Thermuthis, wife of Theon, is long dead.30 (Ep. 10.5.1–2)
Pliny attributes his recovery from what he describes as a potentially life-threatening illness to the “concern and attentiveness” (Ep. 10.5.1) of Harpocras. As the result of the physician’s services, Pliny incurs a debt of gratitude (10.5.1), which he hopes to discharge with the help of the “gracious kindness” (indulgentia) of Trajan, who, as we learn in a subsequent letter, grants a “speedy award” (sine mora indulsisti) of the right of citizenship to Harpocras. In return, Pliny acknowledges that he has incurred a gift-debt to the emperor (10.6.2). Emboldened by his success, he further requests that Trajan grant Alexandrian citizenship to the physician and describes the anticipated positive response as a “kindness” or “benefit” (beneficium; 10.6.2). Pliny is not disappointed; Trajan “grants” (dare) Harpocras the Alexandrian citizenship (10.7). Trajan’s “grant” of citizenship to Harpocras is a “kindness,” not only to the physician, but also to Pliny who acts as his spokesperson. Pliny, for his part, incurs a gift-debt as the result of the imperial award.
On behalf of his client Voconius Romanus, Pliny orchestrated gifts of status on several occasions. Probably before the death of Nerva in 98 CE,31 he wrote to Javolenus Priscus, the legate of Syria sometime between 95 and 101 CE, to recommend Romanus for an army post (Ep. 2.13). In the letter, Pliny refers to a change in status that he had earlier orchestrated on behalf of his client, acquiring for him the “right of three children” (ius trium liberorum)—a right that exempted wealthy fathers from munera entailing the obligation to fund public works at one’s own expense and that allowed married women to remain free of legal guardianship.32
Pliny also requested that Nerva elevate the equestrian Romanus’s ordo to that of senator. In a letter written to Nerva’s successor Trajan in 98 or 99 CE, Pliny indicates that legal necessity involving a transfer of four million sesterces to Romanus’s account had prevented Nerva from immediately granting his elevation in status. The requisite legal “business” having been completed, Pliny writes to Trajan:
Your kindness [indulgentia], best of emperors, which I experience in fullness, encourages me to presume to beg you to be bound by it on behalf of my friends. Among them, Voconius Romanus claims a quite outstanding place, for he has been a fellow student and a bosom friend from our earliest years. This is why I petitioned your deified father [Nerva] also to advance [promoveret] Romanus to our august order [in amplissimum ordinem]. However, this wish of mine was held back to await your favour [Sed hoc votum meum bonitati tuae reservatum est]. . . . So now that the business which was delaying my hopes has been completed, with some considerable confidence I give you my guarantee of the good character of my friend Romanus. [Pliny then enumerates the qualities that render Romanus fit for senatorial status, including his good character, his love of learning, his filial piety, and the “prestige of his birth.”] Therefore, my lord, I ask that you grant me this happy outcome which is my dearest wish, and that you indulge what I hope are my honourable sentiments, so that through your adjudication I can take pride [gloriari] not only in myself but also in my friend.33 (Ep. 10.4.1–6)
Romanus’s elevation from equestrian to senatorial status is described using the circumlocution “our august order” to designate the latter rank. Pliny indicates his wish that his client34 “advance” to the senatorial order, indicating the hierarchical ranking system upon which such distinctions were based. Pliny’s mention of Trajan’s “kindness” (indulgentia) serves as a form of captatio benevolentia, a bid for his goodwill, and places the request within the register of gift-giving.35 The close connection between indulgentia and gift exchange is established by Seneca, who in a discussion of the “gifts of the gods” (divinorum munera; Ben. 2.29.1), adduces several divine benefactions: humans’ dominion over animals, food, wealth, crafts, and comprehending minds (2.29.4–5). Analogizing the gods to nature, Seneca writes, “But if you assess nature’s generosity [naturae indulgentia] properly you will have to admit that you have been her darling” (2.29.5).36
Similarly assimilated to the paradigm of gift exchange is Pliny’s request to Vibius Maximus, prefect of Egypt from 103 to 107 CE,37 that the latter grant a post to Pliny’s client Arrianus Maturus. Pliny’s letter to Maximus reads as follows:
The favour which I myself would have extended to your friends, if the same opportunity were available to me, I now appear justified in begging from you for mine. Arrianus Maturus is a leading citizen of Altinum [a city in northeastern Italy. Pliny describes Maturus’s merits, including his wealth, integrity, sense of justice, wisdom, business acumen, and loyalty.] He does not canvass for office [caret ambitu], and he has accordingly confined himself to his equestrian rank [se in equestri gradu tenuit], though he could easily rise to the very top [facile possit ascendere altissimum]. None the less, I must see to his ennoblement and further progress [Mihi tamen ornandus excolendusque est]. So I regard it as important to advance his distinction [magni aestimo dignitati eius aliquid adstruere] without his expectation or knowledge—perhaps indeed against his will. But that advancement is to be one which brings glory, yet without being burdensome [splendidum nec molestum]. I beg you to bestow on him [conferas in eum] something of this kind at your first opportunity. Both he and I will be most gratefully in your debt [habebis me, habebis ipsum gratissimum debitorem], for though he does not seek the favour, he will accept it as thankfully as if he eagerly sought it [tam grate tamen excipit, quam si concupiscat]. Farewell.38 (Ep. 3.2.1–6)
As is customary in such letters, Pliny does not point to a particular post or station that he would like Maximus to grant to Maturus, asking only that he grant “something of this kind”—apparently one that brings “glory” but “without being burdensome.” Regarding the post referred to by the vague phrase “something of this kind,” Adrian Nicholas Sherwin-White opines, “probably a military tribunate or prefecture is meant.”39 Again pointing to stratification in the political system, Pliny indicates that Maturus had “confined himself to his equestrian rank” only because he did not actively promote himself. Otherwise, “he could easily rise to the very top.” Pliny refers to Maximus’s potential gift of a position for Maturus as a form of “advancement” for the latter, indicating that gradations of status were recognized even within the equestrian rank. Pliny’s mention of the “distinction” and “glory” that accompany office indicates the extent to which positional status and accorded status are related; prestige is depicted as a concomitant of political office. Finally, Pliny’s notice that both he and Maturus would find themselves burdened by a gift-debt and his references to gratitude and thanksgiving in the final lines indicate clearly that Maximus’s appointment of Maturus to an office would be construed as a gift.
To summarize our findings thus far: in the Roman context, certain types of positional status, including public office and citizenship, could be received as a gift. Each position carried particular obligations, rights, and duties: in the case of provincial governorship, the right to oversee public building projects and hear legal cases; in the case of citizenship, the right to legal protection and exemption from some taxes. The reception of such gifts of status burdened the recipient with a “gift-debt,” which could be discharged, at least in part, through “gestures of service” performed for the patron’s benefit.
Like Pliny, Paul understood that positional status could be received as a gift. However, unlike his Roman contemporaries, he recognizes positional status as a grant extended not by well-placed political figures but by the god of Israel. When Paul wrote his letter to the early Christian assembly at Rome, likely during the winter of 55–56 or 56–57 CE, Nero was de facto the agent with the most power to grant positional status. Paul’s letter, however, does not mention the princeps, but instead attributes the positional status of Roman “governing authorities” to Israel’s god:
Let every person be subject [hypotassesthō] to the governing authorities. For there is no authority [exousia] except from God, and those who are authorities are appointed by God [hypo theou tetagmenai eisin]. So the person who resists authority opposes the ordinance of God [tē tou theou diatagē]. And those who oppose will bring punishment on themselves. For rulers are not a terror to good conduct, but to bad.40 And if you wish not to be afraid of the one who is in a position of authority [exousian], do what is good, and you will receive praise from him, for he is an agent [diakonos] of God so that you may do what is good. But if you do what is bad, be afraid, for he does not bear the sword in vain. For he is the agent of vengeance for the punishment of the one who acts badly. Therefore it is necessary to be subject [hypotassesthai], not only because of punishment, but also because of conscience. For this reason, then, pay tribute, for they are God’s public service providers41 [leitourgoi], engaged in their duties for this very reason. Pay to all what you owe: to whom you owe tribute, pay tribute, to whom you owe taxes, pay taxes, to whom you owe respect, pay respect, to whom you owe honor, show honor. (Rom 13:1–7)
Those occupying positions within the Roman imperial order, Paul asserts, have been granted authority by Israel’s god, who has “appointed” authorities to regulate the behavior of the populace. The possibility of being punished by the “sword”—a metonym for all types of penal authority—is sufficient to encourage “good” behavior and to discourage the “bad.” The positional status granted Roman authorities by Israel’s god not only entitles those authorities to govern the behavior of the populace, but to extract from it tax and tribute.42 The governing agents within the Roman imperial system were, Paul asserts, “appointed” by Israel’s god: “there is no authority except from God.” Authority figures are God’s “public service providers,” orchestrating a divine moral order in the world. To resist such people is to oppose the “ordinance” of God. Not only obedience, but “honor” and “respect” are due God’s Roman “service providers.” Such deferential attitudes call upon Paul’s addressees to recognize and perpetuate the hierarchical sociopolitical organization of the Roman empire.
On the other hand, the discourse departs significantly from typical Roman perceptions in that it legitimizes the imperial sociopolitical organization by locating its origin and authority in the will, not of the deities of the Roman pantheon, but of Israel’s god. Paul clearly viewed the Roman imperial order as of limited duration: in the not-too-distant future, he thought, Christ would be granted the status of God’s vice-regent and executive power on earth. Envisioning an apocalyptic scenario labeled in early Christian parlance as “the end,”43 Paul writes: “Then comes the end, when he [Christ] hands over the kingdom to God the father, when he will destroy every ruler, and every authority and power. For he himself must rule until he [God] places every enemy under his feet” (1 Cor 15:24–25). The “rulers, authorities, and powers” that, in Paul’s imaginative scenario, were to be destroyed by Christ, constituted both human rulers and their heavenly counterparts, the gods and goddesses of Greco-Roman antiquity, who in Paul’s view were nothing more than daimonia, divine beings of a lower order than the god of Israel.44 Paul again refers to both human and divine beings when, in a letter to an early Christian assembly in Philippi perhaps written in 54–55 CE, he predicts, “every knee will bend—of those in heaven, on the earth, and in the chthonic regions—and every tongue will confess that Jesus Christ is the lord” (Phil 2:10–11). Although in Paul’s view Israel’s god had granted Roman functionaries—and their gods—temporary governance, in the apocalyptic future that he envisioned they would all bow in subjection to the very “lord” who had been crucified by Rome’s penal authority (cp. 1 Cor 2:8). In the meantime, however, the empire’s human functionaries were to be respected.
But it is not only the positional status of Roman officials that, in Paul’s view, was granted by the god of Israel. The status of members of the early Christian assemblies was likewise “arranged” by God and is in some cases described as a divine gift. Foremost among the recipients of “gifts of status” within the assemblies were those recognized as apostles.
Paul frequently points to his status as an “apostle”; he applies the designation to himself in five of the seven extant letters that he likely wrote.45 The English term “apostle” is a loanword from the Greek apostolos, literally, “one sent” to deliver a message.46 Paul indicates that he has been “sent” by the god of Israel to proclaim the “good news,” that is, his “gospel” message concerning Jesus, the Christ, or kingly messiah whom Paul saw prefigured in Judean scriptures (e.g., 1 Cor 15:4; Rom 10:6–7; 15:12). He views himself as responding to the dual commission of the god of Israel and the risen Jesus: “Paul, an apostle, not from men, nor through human agency, but through Jesus Christ and God the father, who raised him from the dead” (Gal 1:1). Apostles, in Paul’s view, receive their position through divine appointment: “God has appointed [etheto], first apostles” (1 Cor 12:28). He construes his appointment as a gracious gift: “For I am the least of the apostles—I, who am unfit to be called an apostle, because I persecuted God’s assembly—but by the beneficence of God [chariti de theou] I am what I am, and the favor that he has shown me [hē charis autou hē eis eme] has not been in vain, but I have worked harder than all of them—not I but the favor [charis]47 of God that is with me” (1 Cor 15:9–10; cp. also 1 Cor 3:10).48 Connoting both a gift given and the favorable disposition that might result in the giving of a gift, his repeated use of the term charis indicates that Paul construes his apostolic appointment as a divine benefaction.49 Similarly, in Rom 1:5, he writes that, in order to bring about “faithful obedience among all the nations,” he had “received favor50 and apostleship” (charin kaiapostolēn) from God. The latter phrase may, however, employ hendiadys: Paul received “the favor (or ‘gift’) of apostleship.”51 Later in the same letter, he voices a similar sentiment: “I have written to you rather boldly, in part as one who reminds you through the favor shown me by God [dia tēn charin tēn dotheisan moi hypo tou theou] that I might become a steward of Jesus Christ to the nations, serving the gospel of God as a priest” (15:15–16). Paul’s “stewardship” is depicted as a result of the favorable attitude or disposition of Israel’s god toward him; appointment to office is both a sign and an act of divine favor. The use of charis in this sense corresponds with Pliny’s term indulgentia: the “kindness” or “favor” shown by a benefactor.
Paul also describes his prophetic call—closely related to his apostolic status—as an act of divine beneficence: “When God, who separated me from the time I was in my mother’s womb and, through his beneficence52 [dia tēs charitos autou], called me,53 was pleased to reveal his son to me, so that I might preach him among the people of the nations” (Gal 1:15–16a; cp. Gal. 2:9). With its language of “separation” for cultic service even before birth, Paul’s statement echoes prophetic call narratives (Isa 49:1; Jer 1:5). The emphasis of God’s beneficence (charis) is not present in the earlier biblical exemplars; it is Paul’s own innovation and indicates his investment in the discourse of gift exchange.
The language of “appointment,” “gift,” “beneficence,” and “favor” indicates points of contact between Paul and the broader Roman context of imperial appointments and the patron-client networks that they involve. Just as, in the examples cited earlier, Trajan was able to confer the gift of status upon Pliny’s associates Rosianus Geminus and Harpocras of Alexandria, the god of Israel, as a beneficent gift-giver, had bestowed apostolic status upon Paul. And just as Pliny assured Trajan that Geminus would certainly fulfill his services in exemplary fashion, Paul, too, as a good client claims to have “worked harder” for God, his divine patron,54 than all the apostles who had been commissioned before him. The client’s diligent service reciprocated patronal donations—a logic as at home with Paul as it was in Rome, as Zeba Crook has convincingly demonstrated.55
Just as positional status in Pliny’s Roman context was evaluated within a hierarchical system, Paul construed the early Christian assembly as hierarchized space. At the pinnacle of the assembly’s hierarchized social space stood the figure of the apostle.56 Commenting on the stratified organization of the assemblies, Robert Grant wrote:
[Paul’s] worldview is hierarchical and, in the local church, monarchical. By the time of Ignatius, the bishop will be the local monarch, but for Paul it is the apostle who rules. God himself set apostles first in the church, locally as well as universally (1 Cor 12:28), and Paul is the one apostle to the Corinthians (9:2).57
As Grant indicates, his view is based in part on 1 Cor 12, where Paul ranks various types of positional status—each associated with particular responsibilities—in the Corinthian assembly. Various types of positional status are recognized in Paul’s letters, including familial roles (father/mother, son/daughter), marital status (married/formerly married/unmarried), citizenship, region of origin, ethnicity (Jew or Judean/non-Jew), and status based on the disposition of the male foreskin (circumcised/uncircumcised). Of these roles, only marital status is identified as a gift from God (1 Cor 7:7), although it is possible that circumcision may be implied in Paul’s mention of “the gifts and the calling of God” in Rom 11:28–29.58 Additional types of positional status, including those of apostle, prophet, teacher, and glossolalist (i.e., one who “speaks in tongues”), Paul also construes as gifts of God, as indicated in 1 Cor 12.
The text to which Grant pointed, 1 Cor 12,59 includes important gift exchange motifs. It is located at the beginning of a section that stretches from 1 Cor 12:1 to 14:40, prefaced with the heading “concerning spiritual matters” (peri de tōn pneumatikōn).60 The “matters” of Paul’s interest pertain to the disposition of various charismata, “(spiritual) gifts”—a noun formed from the verb charizomai, “to give graciously,” “to bestow.” He describes these “gifts” as ones that proceed from Israel’s god. Paul’s words address the Corinthian assembly:
But you are the body of Christ, and individually members of it. And (concerning) those whom God has appointed in the assembly: first apostles, second prophets, third teachers, then miracles, then gifts of healing, helpful deeds, acts of guidance,61 types of tongues [i.e., glossolalia]. Not all are apostles, are they? Not all are prophets, are they? Not all are teachers, are they? Not all are miracle-workers, are they? Not all have gifts of healing, do they? Not all speak in tongues, do they? Not all interpret, do they? But eagerly desire the greater gifts. (1 Cor 12:27–31a)
Paul lists a series of more or less clearly defined roles encountered in the assembly in Corinth. These roles, which constitute different types of positional status, are ranked hierarchically, as indicated by the use of ordinal numbers: “first” are apostles, “second” prophets, and “third” teachers. The ordinals soon give way to a series of temporal adverbs, “then miracles, then gifts of healing”; these, too, give way to an asyndetic series (“helpful deeds, acts of guidance, types of tongues”). Their association with ordinals clearly distinguishes the first three items in the list. The fact that subsequent items lack ordinal markers, as well as the fact that “miraculous deeds” and “gifts of healing” appear in reverse order in 1 Cor 12:9–10, suggests that Paul is not concerned to place those items firmly within his ranking system.62 With regard to the first three items, however, “the numbering undoubtedly is meant to indicate an order of importance.”63
The first three roles listed—apostle, prophet, and teacher—as well as the roles of miracle worker, healer, one who speaks in tongues (i.e., engages in glossolalia), and one who interprets the glossolalist’s utterances, constitute types of positional status recognized in Paul’s Corinthian assembly. It is doubtful whether any particular role was associated with the “helpful deeds” and “acts of guidance” mentioned in v. 28; the plural nouns apparently refer to specific acts, rather than to discrete social roles within the assembly. It is, however, possible that “helpful deeds” refers to patronal donations within the assemblies, as Bruce Longenecker has suggested.64 If so, Paul may be intentionally minimizing the role of the patron by failing to designate explicitly that position, in conjunction with apostles, teachers, and so on.
The fact that Paul lists apostles as “first” among the positions recognized within early Christian assemblies is not mere ornamentation. Indicating a preeminent positional status within the assembly, the ordinal “first” connotes a position of relative authority over other members of the assemblies. Paul expresses the same relation in other images, each of which both reinforces and nuances the connotation of relatively high positional status indicated in the ordinal. These include his use of paternalistic images to depict himself as a father to the members of the local assembly who provides an authoritative model for the Corinthians to imitate (1 Cor 4:14–16; Phil 3:17)65 and who may, if necessary, brandish a metaphorical “rod” of discipline (1 Cor 4:21) with which to “punish every act of disobedience” effected by assembly members (2 Cor 10:6; cp. 13:2); his use of maternalistic images likening himself to a mother nursing her young (1 Thess 2:7–8);66 his depiction of the Corinthian assembly as “infants” in need of his care (1 Cor 3:1–2); and his depiction of himself as a “master builder” and the Corinthians as his construction (3:10–15).
Paul’s images depicting himself as one in a position of relative authority over other members of the assemblies was further reinforced by the particular set of obligations, privileges, and rights that he associated with the positional status of apostle. The primary obligation of the apostle is to “proclaim the gospel” (1 Thess 2:4; 1 Cor 1:17; Rom 1:1, 9) of Jesus’ crucifixion, resurrection, heavenly exaltation, and imminent return to earth to gather his faithful.67 Apostles, in Paul’s view, are granted special privileges, including the authority to command subordinate assembly members (Phlm 22), anticipating their obedience (2 Cor 7:15; 10:6; Rom 1:5; 15:18; Phlm 21),68 and to “build up and to tear down” assemblies in the manner in which they see fit (2 Cor 10:8)—an image that refers to instruction and exhortation (1 Cor 3:10–15), on one hand, and vehement opposition to rival discourses and practices, on the other (2 Cor 10:4–5). Similarly, apostles are privileged in their ability to commend or to withhold commendation regarding local assemblies (1 Cor 11:2, 17) and their “right” (exousia) to receive room and board at the expense of those to whom they preach (1 Cor 9:3–12)—even if in some instances they politely refrain from making use of such “rights” (1 Cor 9:12b–15; Phlm 8–9). Finally, the apostle claims the right to exercise penal authority within the assemblies, pronouncing judgment in the name of Jesus (1 Cor 5:3–5; 2 Cor 13:2–4)—even if, in practical terms, he realizes that no penal measures will be enacted without the support of important constituencies within the local assembly: “We are ready to punish every act of disobedience, when your obedience is complete” (2 Cor 10:6, emphasis added). Unlike the Roman administrators appointed by Trajan, Paul had at his disposal no external apparatus (such as courts and military might) to enforce his policies. These rights and privileges were not accessible to other members of the assemblies; they were the prerogatives solely of those who claimed the positional status of apostle.69
Closely related in function to the role of apostle, although distinct from and subordinate to it as a form of positional status (i.e., “second”), is that of the prophet. Not necessarily entailing either prediction of the future or ecstatic states, prophecy is defined by Paul as a form of speech “to other people for their upbuilding and encouragement and consolation” (1 Cor 14:3 NRSV) for the purpose of “building up the assembly” (1 Cor 14:4). Paul attributes to prophets an ability that is generally reserved for the god of Israel and his Christ: the capacity to “disclose the heart’s secrets” (1 Cor 14:25; cp. Rom 8:27; 1 Cor 4:5). This is likely because he views prophets as endowed with the divine spirit, which itself possesses and makes available insight into the mind of both God and humans (1 Cor 2:9–12). This view may be compared with a statement recorded in Lucian of Samosata: “Prophecy is a piece [aporrhōx] of the divine mind” (Alex. 40).70 Prophets are granted the right to address the assembly; when multiple prophets are present, they must take turns speaking (1 Cor 14:29–33). In his discussion about the propriety of women’s veiling during assembly meetings, Paul indicates that both women and men were able to assume the prophetic role in the Corinthian assembly (1 Cor 11:4–5). This practice would seem to be contradicted by a prohibition of women’s speech in the assembly in 1 Cor 14:34–35: “Let women be silent in the assemblies, for they are not permitted to speak, but let them be subject, as indeed the law says. But if they wish to learn something, let them ask their own husbands at home, for it is shameful for a woman to speak in the assembly.” The passage, however, may well have been inserted by a later editor of Paul’s epistles; in some manuscripts, the verses appear in a different location in the letter—often a sign of editorial tampering.71
Paul construes the positional status of prophet as one of the “spiritual gifts.” In a section of 1 Corinthians describing the “varieties of gifts” (diaireseis de charismatōn; 12:4–11), Paul writes, “now to one is given through the spirit the utterance of wisdom . . . to another, prophecy” (1 Cor 12:8, 10). Similarly, in his letter to the early Christian assembly at Rome, Paul writes, “We have gifts [charismata] that differ according to the grace [tēn charin] given to us: prophecy, in proportion to faith, ministry, in ministering” (Rom 12:6 NRSV). In Corinth, he recommends that assembly members “strive for spiritual things [zēloute de ta pneumatika], but especially that you should prophesy” (1 Cor 14:1). Paul’s depiction of prophecy as a gift for which one could “strive” may indicate that in his view, it could be granted in response to eager petitions, as was clearly the case with another of the “spiritual gifts,” the ability to interpret glossolalic utterances: “Let the one who speaks in a tongue pray that he might interpret it” (1 Cor 14:13). Paul’s god, like Rome’s emperors, is portrayed as amenable to granting requests.
Although Paul classified prophets as “second”—outranked only by apostles—in the social hierarchy of the assemblies, they clearly surpassed glossolalists in rank: “The one who prophesies is greater than [meizōn . . .ē] the one who speaks in tongues” (1 Cor 14:5). “Speaking in tongues,” or glossolalia, consists of the utterance of a series of unintelligible phonemes that, in the context of Greco-Roman religions, were construed as the “language of the gods.”72 In Paul’s Judaic perspective, however, such utterances constituted the “language of the angels” (1 Cor 13:1).73 There is a notable caveat to Paul’s subordination of “tongues” to prophecy; the prophet is granted superior status “unless someone interprets, so that the assembly might receive edification” (oikodomēn). Paul holds open the possibility that the ranking system could be modified; in this case, the value of glossolalia—if interpreted, or rendered as intelligible speech—could rival that of prophecy, as both modes of speech deliver to the gathered assembly messages that claim a divine origin and authority. Both, he reasoned, are useful for “building up” or “edifying” only to the extent that they were intelligible to the gathered assembly (1 Cor 14:6–25). Both types of speech, however, claimed as their sources agencies that transcended human authority: Paul construed prophecy as a mode of speech inspired by the spirit of God and glossolalia as the “language of the angels.” In contrast, the “merely” human speech of the teacher qualified that position for a ranking third in importance, just below prophecy and twice removed from apostleship.
Like apostleship and prophecy, Paul construed the role of the teacher as a gift from Israel’s god (Rom 12:6–7). He assumes the role of the teacher to include ethical instruction, of both children and adults, particularly through the inculcation of Mosaic law (Rom 2:20–23). Inasmuch as instruction in Mosaic law presupposes literacy, the role of teacher would not, like prophecy, have been one to which the majority of people within the early Christian assemblies could aspire. Since Paul says so little about the role, the extent of its associated prerogatives and duties is not known.
In light of the argument advanced here that Paul advocated a hierarchical sociopolitical organization within the assemblies, a brief discussion of the contrary position is required. Let me begin, however, with a digression on the “politics of interpretation” of Pauline texts at work within both the academy and religious organizations. There is often resistance to interpretations of Paul that view him as promoting hierarchical relations within early Christian assemblies, and for understandable reasons. The contemporary academy tends to prefer “egalitarian” social systems over hierarchical ones. Hierarchical organization is often associated with forms of oppression that the academy wishes to escape: most notably, racism, sexism, classism, and discrimination based on sexual identity—problems that continue to plague contemporary cultures. Second is the fact that Paul’s letters are often made to function as “charters” for the ideologies and practices advocated by contemporary religious groups, some of which are loath to attribute to Paul the acceptance of patriarchalism, heterosexism, or slavery, for example. The predilections of the modern academy and of progressive religious organizations ought not divert us, however, from the properly historical enterprise of adequately describing the discourse of Paul’s letters or the sociopolitical organization of the assemblies that he founded. As Bruce Lincoln reminds us, the critical scrutiny of ancient religious texts hones skills that can be “put to good use at home” in contemporary contexts.74 It is only after regimes of discourse and practice have been subjected to critical scrutiny that oppressive practices may be recognized, opposed, and then replaced with practices that entail a greater degree of equality and social justice. For that reason, the critical analysis of Paul’s letters is not inimical to contemporary concerns to promote just social and religious systems, but rather is a prerequisite to their formation.
Now to our theme: although Robert Grant’s statement that Paul’s “worldview is hierarchical and, in the local church, monarchical” has much to commend it, Edwin A. Judge has been an advocate of the contrary view in which Paul renounces status. Judge argues that Paul rejects a “notable aspect of classical ethics, their emphasis on status—the concern with relations between people and the appropriate ordering of them as between greater and lesser.”75 This, Judge asserts, is due to Paul’s “fascination with the self-abasement of Christ,”76 a fascination manifested in “servitude to the interests of others.”77 He notes that Paul construes his role as one of “ministry” and “stewardship,” rather than “the theory of leadership which one would expect to see in his counterparts on the classical side of the fence.”78
Others scholars since Judge have added to the arguments in favor of the view that Paul did not engage in the “appropriate ordering of [people] as between greater and lesser.” Each of the arguments, however, rests on misperceptions concerning the relevant information in Paul’s letters. When the letters are understood correctly, it becomes evident that even the apparently “egalitarian” material in Paul supports and reinforces the hierarchical ranking system that Paul would promote in his assemblies. The most significant arguments against the view that Paul ranked positions within the assemblies include the following:
1. Judge correctly notes that Paul’s self-descriptions as a “servant” portray him in a subordinate position. He is generally portrayed as subordinate, however, not to other human members of the assemblies, but to Christ, whose servant he proclaims himself to be (Rom 1:1; Gal 1:10; Phil 1:1). With respect to other humans associated with the early Christian assemblies, Paul resists the implication that he should be seen as subordinate even to authoritative figures such as James (the brother of Jesus), Peter, and John, the “pillar apostles” active in the early Christian assembly in Jerusalem (Gal 2:6–9).
2. As Dale Martin has shown, the status of slaves, former slaves, and clients is linked to that of their patrons or masters.79 Subordinates of high-status figures basked in a measure of the reflected glory of their superiors:80 imperial slaves and former slaves were frequently accorded a status above that of most freeborn citizens. To portray oneself as a slave of Christ, the exalted “lord,” is therefore not to portray oneself as an individual of low status.
3. In some instances, Paul even asserts that he is a slave to other members of the assembly (1 Cor 9:19; 2 Cor 4:5) or a steward on their behalf (1 Cor 4:1). However, Judge makes a false assumption in viewing service as incompatible with hierarchical preeminence. By way of comparison, Dio Chrysostom argues that kingship is a form of stewardship (epitropē) given as a gift (dōrea) by Zeus (Or. 1.45–46). Similarly, Dio writes: “Then, the care bestowed on his subjects he [the king] does not consider an incidental thing or mere drudgery . . . [but] it is only when he helps people that he thinks he is doing his duty, having been appointed to this work by the greatest god. . . . No indeed, the king does not object to toil and discomfort in behalf of others, nor does he deem his lot any worse simply because he has to face the most tasks and have the most troubles” (Or. 3.55–57).81 And as Paul Veyne has shown, liturgies and public benefaction were forms of service to the public that enhanced, rather than undermined, one’s status and prestige.82
4. Judge’s apparent assumption that self-interest and interest in others are mutually exclusive options involves a false dichotomy.83 Dio Chrysostom indicates that the good king is concerned for the welfare of subordinates, “not divorcing his own interest from that of his subjects, but rejoicing most and regarding himself as most prosperous when he sees his subjects prosperous too” (Or. 3.39).84 Paul’s construction of a role of authority over other assembly members is not incompatible with genuine concern and positive regard for those construed as subordinates.
5. Paul’s use of the language of fictive kinship (i.e., members of the assembly are “brothers and sisters”) is sometimes viewed as undermining hierarchical ranking systems.85 However, as every ancient commentator indicates, the domestic space of family and household was highly stratified. Aristotle writes: “the male is by nature better fitted to command than the female . . . and the older and more fully developed person than the younger and immature. It is true that in most cases of republican government the ruler and ruled interchange in turn . . . but the male stands in this relationship to the female continuously. The rule of the father over the children on the other hand is that of a king” (Pol. 1.1259b).86 Despite Elizabeth Schussler-Fiorenza’s now classic arguments to the contrary, Paul’s position was not fundamentally different.87 We need only point to a few passages to substantiate this view: “I write these things not to shame you, but to admonish you as my beloved children” (1 Cor 4:14); “I want you to recognize that Christ is the head of every man, man is the head of his wife, and God is the head of Christ” (1 Cor 11:3);88 Paul claims to have behaved toward the Thessalonian assembly blamelessly, “as a father encouraging his own children” (1 Thess 2:11–12). Note that Paul’s ultimate authority figure, the god of Israel, is construed as “father” (e.g., 2 Cor 6:18; Gal 4:6); second in authority is Jesus, God’s “son” (e.g., 1 Cor 15:28; Rom 8:32). No transcendent authority figure is classified as female.89
6. As Bruce Lincoln, Margaret Mitchell, Dale Martin, and others have shown, in Greco-Roman antiquity, the description of the corporate entity (whether empire, city, or local assembly) as a body was often deployed in calls for civic unity.90 Such calls for unity, however, were accompanied by pleas in support of hierarchical leadership (i.e., the body politic never lacks a “head”). In 1 Corinthians, the metaphor of the body is accompanied by an ordinal system ranking certain members.
7. Paul could at times resort to the language of “equality,” but contrary to the contemporary use of the term, Greco-Roman discourses of equality both recognize and perpetuate systems of economic, political, and social stratification.91 According to Aristotle’s classical view, “equality” entailed the notion of proportionality: to each a share “‘according to merit;’ for all people agree that what is just in distribution must be according to merit in some sense. . . . This, then is what the just is—the proportional; the unjust is what violates the proportion. Hence one term becomes too great, the other too small, as indeed happens in practice; for the person who acts unjustly has too much, and the person who is unjustly treated too little, of what is good” (Nic. Eth. 5.3.7, 14–15).92 Aristotle’s view of “proportional equality” did not entail numerically equal distribution of goods between all parties; rather it entailed a “just” distribution proportional to the “merit” of each.93 “Injustice” resulted only when the disparity between the various parties became too great. Paul’s advice concerning the distribution of economic resources between various early Christian assemblies adopts the notion of proportional equality. As part of his plea to the assemblies of Achaia to contribute to a collection that was to be delivered to Jerusalem, he cites Exod 16:18 as an example of proportionally equal distribution: “The one who had much did not have too much, and the one who had little did not have too little” (2 Cor 8:15 NRSV).94 Paul’s advice was not designed to bring about numerically equal distribution among the assemblies, but to avoid the “injustice” evident when some enjoy an overabundance “of what is good,” even as others suffer deprivation. The ideal of proportional equality does not seek to eradicate socioeconomic stratification, but to attenuate it; it seeks only to avoid extreme disparities in distribution.
None of Judge’s observations contradicts the overwhelming evidence that there existed in the early Christian assemblies hierarchized social relations and that Paul himself was a primary agent in the construction and perpetuation of those hierarchical relations. When understood correctly, Paul’s statements that might at first glance seem to undermine hierarchical relations actually serve to maintain them. Nor were the forms of sociopolitical organization that Paul deployed in the assemblies far removed from “the theory of leadership” espoused by his “counterparts on the classical side of the fence.” Paul, like Aristotle, understood that extreme disparities in the distribution of material goods were not conducive to the harmonious operation of the body politic. And like Dio, he understood that the effective leader needed to be able to generate the assent of subordinates and that domineering and overbearing tactics were not the most effective methods to accomplish that goal. But if his tacit admission that his methods were at times perceived as authoritarian offers any indication, it appears that this lesson may not have been learned with alacrity. Paul concedes: “Now if indeed I boast somewhat excessively about our authority, which the Lord has given for building up and not for destruction, I will not be ashamed of it. I do not want to seem as though I am trying to terrify you with my letters” (2 Cor 10:8–9). Negative reactions to similar statements may have precipitated his denial that he “acted as master” (ouch hoti kyrieuomen) over the faith of members of the Corinthian assembly (2 Cor 1:24). For Paul, the negotiation of a “middle way” between tyranny and anarchy required frequent course corrections, and the way forward was not always self-evident.
In light of the fact that sociology works with multiple, sometimes contradictory, definitions of “status,” we have identified two distinct usages of the term: positional status refers to the fulfillment of a particular position or role within a sociopolitical field, and accorded status accrues on the basis of communal assessments regarding the excellence or exemplary manner in which one fulfills the duties and obligations associated with a particular social position. As Pliny the Younger’s letters amply attest, in the Roman context certain types of positional status, including citizenship and political office, were regularly conferred as patronal donations. In his letters, these donations were orchestrated by Pliny himself as “broker” between client and emperor.
In Paul’s letters, several types of positional status are described as “gifts” from Israel’s god: foremost among these are the positions of apostle, prophet, glossolalist, and teacher. Like various positions within the Roman cursus honorum, Paul ranks hierarchically the various types of positional status that he identifies as active within early Christian assemblies. Of the positions named in 1 Cor 12, Paul construes that of apostle as preeminent among the members of the assembly. Corresponding with the priority of rank claimed by the apostle are rights and privileges not available to other members, including the “right” to room and board at the expense of the assembly within which the apostle is active, and the right to make demands of subordinate members, to threaten to deploy penal authority, and to “build up and tear down” assemblies as the apostle saw fit. In terms of both rank and rights, the apostle claimed a preeminent position among the membership of the early Christian assemblies. Although some New Testament scholars have propounded views in which Paul eschews status in its various forms, such views misconstrue the available evidence and are contradicted by Paul’s clear statements promoting a hierarchical organization within the assemblies.
Some clear consequences of Paul’s discourse on the “gift of status” may be identified. First, Paul’s discourse, to the extent that it was accepted as authoritative, effectively orchestrated a hierarchical organization within early Christian assemblies, with the role of apostle inhabiting the superior position. Second, the discourse more or less effectively naturalized the hierarchical organization that Paul proposed. He did not claim authority for his views as an itinerant leatherworker, but as one who had been commissioned as an “apostle” by the god of Israel; and it was this god who, in Paul’s discourse, “appointed” the hierarchical order of the assemblies. Although he claimed that the sociopolitical organization of the assemblies was “arranged” by God, it is clear that Paul’s own discourse and management practices were instrumental in promoting the organizational structure that he envisioned.
In addition to the mechanisms of gift-debt typically associated with the development of hierarchical social relations in the anthropological literature since Mauss, the study of Paul adds another mechanism by which the discourse of “the gift” affects sociopolitical organization. Perhaps taking his cues from the practice whereby a highly placed political figure bestows political office as a patronal gift, Paul construes certain aspects of the social organization of the early Christian assemblies—notably the positions of apostle, prophet, teacher, and glossolalist—as gifts from Israel’s god. In the case of such gifts, it is not the failure of one party to reciprocate on equal terms that effects a social hierarchy, as in Mauss’s examples; instead, it is the discursive claims that “gifts of status” had been granted by Israel’s god that serve to structure sociopolitical relations.
There is a distinction to be made between the “gifts of status” described in Paul’s letters and Pliny’s. Whereas in Rome, those who held positions granted as the result of patronal or imperial assignation could expect to demonstrate their positional status through legal documentation, titles, and decrees, Paul was unable to call on such forms of legitimation to demonstrate his position as “apostle.” Unlike Harpocras of Alexandria or Voconius Romanus, who could anticipate legal documents to attest to their newly bestowed positional statuses, Paul could adduce only his own claims to have received apostolic status as a gift of God. The gifts of emperors are more readily demonstrable than those of gods. To the extent to which his claims were recognized as legitimate by his auditors, Paul could invoke rights and privileges that he associated with apostolic status, not least of which was a preeminent position within early Christian assemblies. His discourse concerning divine gifts, therefore, carried significant implications for the orchestration of sociopolitical relations within those groups, even in the absence of external legal or martial support.
Paul’s practical and discursive construction of a preeminent positional status within the assemblies, however, by no means ensured that all parties involved would accept his suggestions. On the contrary, there is ample evidence that he was engaged in a nearly continual struggle to achieve and maintain a privileged status within some assemblies. In this struggle, too, the discourse of the gift played a decisive role. But that story must await our next chapter for its telling.