SECSOR: Day One

The 2010 meeting of the Southeastern Commission for the Study of Religion (SECSOR) began tonight. Attendance appears to be down quite a bit from last year, if memory serves. This time last year wasn't exactly plush, economically speaking, so I'm not sure the economy is the main factor at play here. But maybe it is. Or maybe tomorrow will be different. I dunno.

Anyway, I attended tonight's "New Testament I" session, which featured three rather interesting papers (the fourth, "Gossiping Jesus Into Being: The Oral Processing of a Social Personage in the Gospels" [John Daniels, Flagler College] was, unfortunately cancelled).

• The first paper, "Eschatology and Soteriology in 1 Peter" (Alexander Stewart, Southeastern Baptist Theological Seminary), examined the "now" and "not yet" aspects of the language of salvation in 1 Peter. The paper doesn't exactly break new ground; Stewart acknowledged that he was taking aim at a more popular-level conception of salvation in "the American church." And his focus, as is often the case in discussions of "now" and "not yet," was on the relation between the present and the future. As I mentioned to him in a conversation after the session, however, the question that interests me is the relation (and the distinction!) between the present and the past! That is, if the "new age" is supposed to be different from the "present age"—with its suffering, injustice, etc.—and if early Christians believed that Jesus' death and resurrection inaugurated the new age, what's changed? I still don't think Stewart has addressed the question, though he emphasized conversion (and, I think, the inclusion of gentiles among God's chosen people) as the difference. Something still seems missing to me, but I enjoyed the way Stewart's paper framed the question for me (albeit indirectly).


• The second paper, "Neglected Considerations in Understanding the Structure of the Book of Revelation" (Kevin Larsen, Mid-Atlantic Christian University), raised questions about Revelation's structure (sequential or cyclical) and, relatedly, its genre. Larsen—whose training is in the gospels and who acknowledged at the start his novice status among the apocalypses—reads Revelation salvation-historically, with Jesus and his climactic role in the story of salvation not figuring into Revelation's narrative until chapter 12. There were a number of interesting observations, I thought, but then again I, too, know very little about John's apocalypse. What I appreciated most, however, was Larsen's insistence that Revelation, as a text, spoke to and was written for real first-century CE people. This is a truism among NT scholars, but with Revelation in particular the temptation to read the text as written for (and about!) later Christians too easily leads interpretation astray.


• The third paper, "One Saturday in Capernaum: Mark's Gentile Appropriation of the Sabbath" (Ricky Shinall, Vanderbilt University), discussed gentile [mis]understandings of Jewish Sabbath observances and then read Mark's portrayal of Jesus healing and teaching in the Capernaum synagogue on the Sabbath. In Shinall's reading, Mark has little knowledge of or use for Jewish Sabbath observance, except that Sabbath does present a useful occasion for teaching and healing. So, unlike the superstitious Jews (in Mark's perspective, not Shinall's), Jesus is uninhibited in his Sabbath observance and, just as importantly, isn't lazy. Shinall closed by suggesting Mark's misunderstanding of Jewish Sabbath observance supports a Roman rather than Palestinian provenance for the gospel. Unfortunately, there were too many other ways to read the evidence (e.g., whereas gentiles mistakenly thought Jews fasted on the Sabbath, Mark has Simon's mother-in-law serve Jesus and his companions after Jesus healed her fever [Mark 1.31]), though presumably, outside the confines of a 25-minute paper, Shinall addresses this (I would prefer to locate the Sabbath controversies within an inter-Jewish framework; Shinall cited E. P. Sanders and J. P. Meier to explain his preference for a gentile framework).

I missed the presidential addresses, which was too bad given that Jodi Magness presented what I presume was an interesting paper: "Truth and Fiction: The Talpiyot Tomb in Context." The reception afterward (which I did not miss, of course) was perhaps the best-supplied SBL reception I've ever seen. I had the pineapple and some grapes, but there was sushi, various dips, and many other selections. I was thoroughly impressed.

That's it for Day One. I'm looking forward to tomorrow; I'll let you know how it goes. If you'd like to see the program, it's available online on SECSOR's website.

and yet . . . Carter on 1 Peter

In a previous post I mentioned, with some approval but more with interest, Warren Carter's brief reading of Revelation as aimed at a church too comfortable with the Roman Empire rather than fiercely opposed by it.

In the very next section, however, Carter turns his eye towards another New Testament text addressed to Christians in Asia Minor: 1 Peter. I would not claim to be a Petrine expert by any means, but I have done some research into 1 Peter. And I'm quite sure that Carter has flattened the interactive dynamics pulling at accommodation and separation in 1 Peter. In fact, precisely these dynamics sustain the rhetoric throughout this brief epistle, in which the author forges a social space for his readers (former gentiles now aligned with Israel's story). In that space suffering may continue, but it will be suffering "as a Christian" (4.16) rather than as evildoers (e.g., 2.19–20).

Carter, then, unhelpfully suggests a "strategy of public compliance and participation, yet private devotion to Christ" (42), primarily on the basis of 1 Pet. 3.15, which he thinks suggests a schizophrenic (my term, not Carter's) perspective in which Asian Christians participated in the cultic civic life of their society while internally professing faith in Jesus as Lord. If Carter's is not a very convincing reading of 1 Pet. 3.15, he neglects altogether other aspects of 1 Peter, including the language of identity as a παρεπίδημος [parepidēmos; "stranger"] and of παροικία [paroikia; "sojourn"], as well as the striking language of identification at 2.9–10, the strong exhortation in 4.1–6, and so on.

In actual fact, the tensive balance between accommodation and isolation in 1 Peter has been the subject of some discussion, especially between John Elliott and David Balch. For what it's worth (very little indeed), in my view this balance is what sustains the letter through its five brief chapters. Unfortunately, unless I've misread him, Carter has cut the connection between fitting in and standing out and so disrupted the epistle itself.

Not a descent into hell

A few weeks ago on Primal Subversion Sean posted some comments on the vexing problem at 1 Pet. 3.18—22. His point is very well taken, namely that the "proclamation" [ἐκήρυξεν; ekēruxen] Jesus made "in the Spirit" [ἐν ᾧ; en hō, referring back to πνεύματι (pneumati) at the end of 3.18] to the "spirits in prison" [τοῖς ἐν φυλακῇ πνεύμασιν; tois en phylakē pneumasin] refers to the Christian community's proclamation in the hostile areas of NW Asia Minor of Jesus' victory over death. I think he rightly understands that Peter is not referring to any cosmic preaching of Jesus in the world's (or heaven's) nether regions. The problem remains, however, that the reference to these spirits' disobedience in the days of Noah [ἀπειθήσασίν . . . ἐν ἡμέραις Νῶε; apeithēsasin . . . en hēmerais Nōe; 3.20] hasn't found adequate explanation. I'd like to propose a solution. What follows is an extremely condensed version of an argument I have made elsewhere.

The whole passage up to 3.18 is concerned with a judicial, or at least an interrogative situation (cf. 3.15); either way, the focus here is squarely on the imagery of opposition. Opposition is the link between the Anatolian Christians' readiness to offer an answer to anyone who asks about their curious hope before 3.18, on the one hand, and the reference to Noah and the discussion of Christian social norms after 3.18, on the other.

While the author acknowledges the difference between Christ’s salvific death/resurrection and the suffering of the churches in Asia Minor, he simultaneously points to a vital link between Christ's suffering and the community's. Christ’s suffering paved the way for humanity’s salvation; similarly, the suffering of Christians for their righteous lifestyle in Christ serves to proclaim that offer of salvation to the unbelieving world. Concerning the application of both ἄδικοι [adikoi; "unrighteous ones"] and δίκαιοι [dikaioi; "righteous ones"] to Christians, remember that, “because the notion that Jesus Christ ‘came not to call the just, but sinners,’ was so firmly rooted in the Gospel tradition, it became necessary at times for NT writers to characterize the redeemed as ‘unjust’ or ‘sinners’ before God in order to highlight their new status as ‘just’ or ‘righteous’” (Michaels, 1 Peter, 202—203). In this sense, Peter’s readers are called to suffer in order to lead the world to God before he pours out his judgment on all who are doers of evil, just as Christ suffered in order to lead those who believe to God. 

Both Christ's and the community's suffering, then, serve two functions: (i) proclamation, which is achieved when the suffering is for righteousness’ sake and not as a consequence of evil action; and (ii) vindication, which comes after suffering. To miss one point or the other will affect the interpretation of the difficult verse which follows. The suffering of the people of God for the gospel of Jesus Christ serves a similar function as the suffering of Christ; Christ’s suffering functions as a metaphor for the community’s current experiences of suffering. But, more importantly, suffering for righteousness identifies followers of Christ with the One whom they follow.

Notice that Peter never says that Jesus went to the prison; rather, Jesus "went and proclaimed to the spirits in prison"; in the spirit of the NASB, I translate the ἐν φυλακῇ [en phylakē; "in prison"], along with the participle πορευθεὶς [poreutheis; "he went," or "going"], as "he went to the spirits now in prison. They were not necessarily imprisoned when Jesus preached to them. “Although [Noah’s contemporaries] were not then in any physical prison, they have been confined after their death — they are spirits now in prison” (Skilton, "Old Problems," 6).

Peter also describes the spirits to whom Jesus preached as “those who were disobedient when the patience of God was waiting in the days of Noah during the construction of the ark” (3.20). ἀπειθήσασίν [apeithēsasin; "were disobedient"] functions as a temporal circumstantial participle (“when they were disobedient”), rather than an adjectival participle (“those who were disobedient”). “The participle here does not look at all like an attributive or substantive participle, but it looks for all the world like an adverbial participle” (Skilton, "Old Problems," 1–2). Moreover, ὅτε [hote; "when"] suggests a temporal function. Therefore, when we ask, Who are these spirits to whom Jesus made proclamation? the answer is clear: They are those who were disobedient during the construction of the ark. Here Peter draws upon the image of Noah experiencing the same type of opposition which the community is experiencing now. Whether Peter is referring to supernatural spirits who were disobedient (cf. Gen. 6.1–5, 1 Enoch) or human beings who heard the message of God’s judgment and grace (cf. 2 Pet. 2.5) and mocked Noah’s boat-building enterprise is the subject of much debate, and the text itself does not necessarily suggest one over the other.

If we understand τοῖς ἐν φυλακῇ πνεύμασιν [tois en phylakē pneumasin; "to the spirits (now?) in prison") as human agents who were given (and rejected) the chance for repentance upon hearing the proclamation made by Christ [ἐν] πνεὐματι [(in) the S/spirit; cf. 3.18], we need to ask when Peter understood that proclamation to have occurred. Was it while they were spirits in prison, or are they spirits in prison because they did not heed the preaching made to them? We would opt for the latter choice on the basis of the image Peter paints of the spirits’ disobedience “during the construction of the ark”. As Noah built his big boat on the side of an arid mountain, his actions and his preaching (again, cf. 2 Pet. 2.5) proclaimed the coming judgment of God against an evil world.

 

At some length — 120 years? — it began to rain, and Noah, ridiculed for so long on account of the ark he was building, was the only one prepared to endure God’s judgment. Of course, Noah was prepared for God’s judgment only because God, in his mercy, had provided for him a way of escape. And Noah, in his faithfulness to God, took that way despite the opposition that his faith-in-action drew. In this way, we avoid the incoherent conclusion of Jesus proclaiming the gospel to people who rejected God during their lifetimes. This view is also distinct from the one that sees Peter portraying Jesus as a second Enoch proclaiming his victory — without an option for salvation — to those “sons of God” who were the height of evil and motivated God to deluge his creation.

This explains perfectly the reference to baptism, ὃ καὶ ὑμᾶς . . . νῦν σῴζει [ho kai hymas . . . nyn sōzei], "which now even/also saves you" (3.21). That 1 Peter is a baptismal paranaesis has been widely accepted (cf. 1.22). Here Peter makes the point that baptism, as an example of faith-in-action that incurs opposition from those outside the community, can be understood in precisely the same terms of Noah's ark-building, another example of faith-in-action that brought about opposition. But baptism — just like Noah's ark — does not only bring opposition; it is also the vehicle through which (a) God proclaims his mercy to the world and (b) God vindicates those who suffer for his sake. Noah was saved by the ark; the Anatolian Christians to whom Peter writes will be saved through baptism (again, νῦν σῴζει; nyn sōzei).