Ethics and the Spirit in Paul (1): Religious-Ethical Empowerment through Infusion-Transformation?

1. Greco-Roman Literature

The first strand of literature that needs to be discussed is that of the so-called Hellenistic philosophers. A physical concept of Πνϵυ̑μα comes to the fore in the writings about and by the Stoics. To give one example, according to Alex. Aphr., Mixt. 225.1–10, “if God is on their [i.e. the Stoics’] view body – an intelligent and eternal pneuma – and matter is body, first there will again be body going through body; then this pneuma will certainly be either one of the four uncompounded bodies which they say are also elements, or a compound of them.” While the Stoic view of the nature of Πνϵυ̑μα has influenced a number of successive thinkers, it nonetheless did not become the dominant view among Hellenistic philosophers. ¹³ Apart from that, one also needs to rebut D.B. Martin’s view that within Hellenism in general there was no distinction at all between the material and the immaterial, and that the kind of dualism of which many think as Platonic was really developed only by Descartes. ¹⁴ Both ancient (e.g. Plutarch, Mor. 882D) and modern scholars assert that Plato did have a notion of the immaterial and that he differentiated it from the material world. ¹⁵

With regard to the second point of investigation, namely the potential ethically transforming effects of the physical Πνϵυ̑μα-substance, careful analysis shows that one can hardly find a Stoic text in which this matter is explicitly treated. The closest one can get seems to be the description of Stoic physics by Diogenes Laertius in which he mentions in passing that the Stoics “consider that the passions are caused by the variations of the vital breath” (7.158). As there is a lack of more explicit data, I agree with a number of further scholars that the physical concept of Πνϵυ̑μα did not play a central role in the Stoics’ ethics but in their physics. ¹⁶ The Stoics had a materialistic pneumatology, but not an ethic of substantive transformation that is built upon it. After birth, a supplementary increase or “compression” of one’s individual Πνϵυ̑μα through external intervention by the divine is not intended in Stoic philosophy. Rather, cognitive transformation through philosophy and active reasoning played a central role in Stoic ethics. ¹⁷

2. Early Jewish Literature

Progressing to (Hellenistic) Jewish literature, we should begin with a brief look at the Hebrew Bible. Gunkel believes that formulations like “the weight of the wind” (Job 28:25) and “the storehouses of the wind” (Ps. 135:7; Jer. 10:13; Job 37:9) indicate that “the ancient Hebrews” had thought of the Spirit as a material substance. “Indeed, we can say that the more vividly the Spirit’s activities are experienced… the more certainly the Spirit will be taken as a supersensous substance.” ¹⁸ However, a closer look at the context of these locutions indicates that it is a modern misconception to assume that when the writers of the Hebrew Bible describe religious experiences in sensory language they were making statements relating to science. This caution should prevent us from trying to conceptualize the Spirit in the Hebrew Bible in such highly developed notions like “supersensous substance” or even “immaterial substance.”

As we turn to discuss infusion-transformation in the Dead Sea Scrolls (DSS), 1QH^a 15.6–7 is particularly interesting for our purpose. For should the author here operate with a physical concept of the Spirit, one could conclude that he may also be inclined to think of the work of the Spirit in infusion-transformation categories, for he ascribes ethical effects to the inception of the Spirit. Horn argues that one can deduce a substantial view of the Spirit from the “Spirit-water-imagery” in these lines (“you have upheld me with your strength, your Holy Spirit you have poured over me so that I will not stumble,” 15.6–7; cf. 4.26). ¹⁹ In order to verify both Horn’s assertion that we are here dealing with a metaphor as well as his inference from the notion of “pouring” that this presupposes a material concept of the Spirit, I provide a detailed discussion of what a metaphor is, how one can recognize and how interpret a metaphor. ²⁰ On this basis one can confirm Horn’s judgement that we are dealing in 1QH^a 15.7 with a metaphor. God’s giving of the Spirit (tenor) is metaphorically spoken of in terms which are suggestive of the pouring of a fluid, most likely of water (vehicle), thus creating a new meaning. The writer thanks God for his spiritual strengthening and uses in 15.7a a verb that is associated with liquid for the strengthening by the Spirit.

However, interpreting this metaphor literally would result in a semantic tension between the expression and its context, because the context does not suggest that the physical aspect of the vehicle (water) was transferred to the tenor (Spirit) by the Qumran community. From the perspective of the context of culture of the utterance, the comprehension of “your Holy Spirit you have poured over me” depends on a priori conceptions of the Spirit. If the Qumran sectarians who used this phrase were accustomed to the idea that the Holy Spirit is a material substance (although the grounds for this assumption would need first to be established) they might very well apply this spectrum of meaning to the idiom. However, if such a concept of the Spirit was not part of Qumran theology, a metaphorical interpretation without the transference of all (the physical) aspects to the tenor would suggest itself. ²¹ In this case the Qumran community might have interpreted the phrase on the basis of its intertextuality with similar Hebrew Bible phraseology encapsulating Spirit-experiences. What is more, the context of reference of 1QH^a 15.7 is not an academic discourse on the nature of the Spirit but an emotive hymn of thanksgiving for God’s strengthening. Accordingly, it is highly speculative to draw inferences from a metaphor with regard to a particular subject-matter (i.e. the ontology of the Spirit) that is not the topic of the locution and its contexts. I therefore conclude that it is methodologically precarious to base one’s theory of how a community thought about the materiality/immateriality of the Spirit solely on metaphorical language in contexts that do not indicate that this question could be under consideration. No scholar has provided instances of non-metaphorical language (like the philosophic discourses of Stoicism) in the DSS that would bear upon the question whether the Spirit is to be understood as a substance. This leads to the conclusion that there is no reason for believing that this concept and concern played a role in the theologies of the DSS. Accordingly, there is also no basis for assuming that the work of the Spirit was conceptualized as infusion-transformation in the Qumran community.

Sänger argues with regard to Joseph and Aseneth that the book gives evidence of the Stoic principle that everything that exists is “körperlich-substanzhaft.” In the case of Joseph and Aseneth this principle is applied to the abstract, theological-philosophical entity wisdom/Weisheitspneuma which is understood to be transmitted substantially through the honeycomb. ²² Horn builds on Sänger’s view and adds that “ein substanzhaftes Pneumaverständnis… sakramental vermittelt war” through bread and drink (8.9) and through Joseph’s kiss (19.11). ²³ In order to evaluate the conclusion that one can only comprehend this concept of the Spirit on the basis of the Hellenistic presupposition that Πνϵυ̑μα is a substance, one needs to take a close look at all three passages which are quoted by Sänger and Horn. With respect to 8.9, a thorough analysis of the structure of Joseph’s prayer for Aseneth shows that the Spirit is not related to bread and drink – there is no indication that these elements would convey Πνϵυ̑μα. Bread and cup rather appear to function as a symbol for the entire Jewish way of life. However, even if bread and cup did refer to a cultic meal, it does not need to follow that the Spirit was therefore perceived to be materially transferred through these elements. The reason for this objection is simple: nowhere in the conversion narrative does Aseneth actually eat bread or drink from a cup. Instead, Aseneth is given a honeycomb to eat (16.15–16).

Is the honeycomb a physical object? Despite the fact that the comb ‘is’ Πνϵυ̑μα ζωη̑ς and ‘contains’ bees (and, likewise, ‘is’ bread of life, cup of immortality and ointment of incorruptibility [16.16]), the honeycomb is destroyed by fire in 17.3. This suggests (together with further evidence) ²⁴ that the author does not work with a systematic reflection of the (physical) nature of the honeycomb or of the Spirit. Nor is there any evidence for the assumption that Πνϵυ̑μα ζωη̑ς had materially fused with the comb (as the comb is portrayed as being consumed by fire). Rather, there are good reasons for interpreting the giving of the honeycomb as symbolizing the giving of the spirit of life both to Aseneth (as prototype) and subsequently to all other converts to Judaism. Taking recent research on the nature of symbolic language into account, one can conclude that the pneumatology of the community of the author of Joseph and Aseneth cannot be reconstructed by inserting the physics of the ordinary world (or that of a Stoic world view) into the symbolic/alternative world of the narrative. This conclusion also applies to 19.10. Horn’s reasoning seems to be built upon a shaky hypothesis, namely, that in the kiss the Spirit fuses with the saliva and thus is/becomes a physical substance. It is much more at hand, however, that it is the process of kissing overall that symbolizes the reception of a/the S/spirit of truth, as this is much more in accordance with the silence in the narrative regarding the specific details of the transferal. This conclusion also calls into question the arguments that have been put forward for conceptualizing the transformation of Aseneth in substance-ontological terms. The time-frame and the implicit eschatology of the narrative suggests that it is more fitting to describe the (effects of the) Spirit in Joseph and Aseneth as a power that puts people onto the way of renewal.

Finally, we need to look at the potential presence of the concept of infusion-transformation in Philo of Alexandria. While Philo places the (anthropological) Πνϵυ̑μα into the category of σω̑μα in his discussion of the substance of the human mind (Leg. 1.91; Somn. 1.30), there are a number of passages that suggest that Philo comprehends the Spirit of God to be immaterial (Opif. 29–30: ἀσώματος οὐσία; Deus 2; QG 1.90, 92; Gig. 19, 29, 53–54). Through employing such abstract language (i.e. Πνϵυ̑μα as ἀσώματος οὐσία), and through the fact that he defines the Spirit at all, Philo differentiates himself from the rest of the Jewish sources that have been called upon in support for the thesis that ancient Judaism comprehended the Spirit as a material substance. However, he does not base ethical empowerment (which he does relate to the Spirit as we will see in section 5) on the physical make-up of the Spirit. Philo’s writings thus neither give evidence for a material concept of the divine Spirit (possibly with the exception of one small trace), nor for the infusion-transformation approach to ethics. However, we do find in Philo an abstract type of language as well as the (philosophical) genre from which it is hermeneutically legitimate to single out the writer’s (or community’s) concept of the nature of the Spirit. It is an explicit topic of Philo’s discourses. This is mainly due to the intention with which Philo writes, namely, to give a philosophical defence of Judaism. He is not representative of the rest of Judaism in respect to these aspects of his pneumatology as one can see when comparing Philo with the other strands of Judaism analysed in this section. However, he still remains faithful to his understanding of his ancestral religion in that he argues that the Spirit is an incorporeal entity.

Conclusion: Having explored the different Greco-Roman and Jewish sources which various scholars believe to contain both the concept of the divine Spirit as a material substance and the idea of infusion-transformation by this Spirit, I conclude with regard to the former that a clear difference in genre and focus can be observed between certain strands of Hellenistic pneumatology and the Jewish writings that talk about the Spirit. A number of Hellenistic philosophers are interested in the ontology of pneu/-ma, and they discuss its im/material nature in their discourses. Some of them, particularly the Stoics, are convinced that the spirit is a physical substance. Within Judaism, however, this interest cannot be traced. The Jewish writings give evidence of statements regarding the Spirit’s work but not regarding its im/material nature (with the exception of Philo). As far as the concept of infusion-transformation is concerned, however, neither Hellenism nor Judaism give any proof for its existence in antiquity. Consequently, we can dismiss the thesis that “Paul presupposes that the Corinthian church is familiar with the fact that the Spirit is comparable to a substance or fluid which become[s] the new substance of his [i.e. the believer’s] existence,” ²⁵ – at least as far as the New Testament-church’s Hellenistic-and-Jewish background is concerned.

1. The Spirit as an Immaterial Substance?

The infusion-transformation approach to Paul’s ethics builds on a concept of the Spirit as a physical substance. Nonetheless, as Horn has suggested that Paul sometimes operates with a concept of the Spirit as an immaterial substance, we need to deal with his proof texts for this hypothesis. In the context of his differentiation of what he thinks are various concepts of the Spirit in Paul, Horn states that the Spirit is understood as an immaterial substance “when the Spirit takes up residence within the believer as ‘forma substantialis’ (1 Cor. 3:16; 6:19; Rom. 8:9; 1 Thess. 4:8).” ²⁷ However, trying to prove or disprove that Paul held a particular scholastic concept of the Spirit does not appear to promise a profounder comprehension of Paul’s pneumatology. Rather, as Paul does not discuss or evidently presuppose a particular make-up of the Spirit, I maintain that it is best to refrain from such claims regarding the nature of Πνϵυ̑μα in Paul – whether material or immaterial. In respect to the somewhat elusive statements of indwelling, I suggest that for Paul the Spirit was a new and dominant influence in a person’s life and that he seems to say that a new and intimate relationship to God/Christ/the Spirit has commenced through God/Christ/the Spirit’s ^(“)living in^(”) the believer. I have placed the inverted commas within brackets in this phrase because I want to indicate that a binary interpretation of the indwelling statements in the sense of either literal or metaphorical will not suffice. By adopting this strategy of interpretation I apply Aaron’s gradient model of meaning as a continuum, according to which the indwelling statement could be designated with the term “ascriptive.” ²⁸ It is a “quasi-local” indwelling by the Spirit. I hence suggest that one can speak of Paul’s statements of mutual indwelling in Romans 8:9–10 as portraying the believer’s intimate union with the Spirit of Christ. The advantage of this formulation, which should not be confused with fusion, is its potential ambiguity that comes close to Paul’s usage of evn in the indwelling statements. The concept of intimate union allows for a more or less local indwelling (which would concur with the anthropologies of Paul’s time) ²⁹ as well as for an interpretation which draws on the concept of being strongly influenced by and belonging to the subject that is said to indwell the person. It has to remain uncertain whether he ever understood God’s Spirit as an immaterial or material substance, but it is certain that for Paul the new reality and new self-understanding as people who are indwelled by God’s Spirit has an impact on the realm of ethics.

2. The Resurrection Body

Paul’s treatment of the resurrection body in 1 Corinthians 15, particularly his locution σωμα pneumatiko,n, has a long-standing tradition of being employed as a major argument for the thesis that Paul understood Πνϵυ̑μα to be a material entity. Recently, D.B. Martin has come back to this tradition and has given it a proper grounding by investigating 1 Corinthians 15 as well as the popular philosophies of the time. ³⁰ His arguments for the material nature of the σωμα πνϵυματικόν need to be tested on contextual, rhetorical, logical and linguistic grounds. For example, one can challenge Martin’s thesis that for Paul the σωμα πνϵυματικόν is analogous to the substance of the σώματα ϵ̓πουράνια (v. 40) because on discourse analytical grounds this parallelism appears forced. Paul’s mentioning of σωμα πνϵυματικόν in verse 44 is part of a textual unit (vv. 42–44) which works on the contrast between what is sown and what is reaped. Verse 40, however, is part of the previous section and works on the differentiation of earthly and heavenly bodies, introduced by verse 39 (“Not all flesh is alike, but there is one kind for…”). Verses 39–41 (cf. vv. 36–38) describe different bodies within the present creation. Verses 42–44 (cf. vv.45–50), per contra, discuss not only a present, created body, but also a transformed (future) body that will be available only after death. Moreover, it is problematic to apply the meaning of the descriptive dative-constructions in verses 42–44 to the σώματα ϵ̓πουράνια of verse 40, as this application would mean, for instance, that Paul views the created stars as incorruptible. Such a cosmology, however, seems foreign to Paul (see, e.g., Rom. 8:19–23, esp. v.22: πα̑σα ἡ κτίσις συστϵνάζϵι).

Two additional claims of parallelism between the heavenly bodies and the resurrection body need to be questioned. First, when Martin states that the resurrection body will have its own substance and glory analogous to the heavenly bodies, he ignores the fact that Paul says of the resurrection that it is raised in glory (ϵ̓ϵίρϵται ϵ̓ν δόξῃ) (v. 43). He neither speaks about substance nor does he name “glory” as an attribute of the resurrection body. Moreover, when Paul uses “glory” as an attribute in verses 40–41, it is in reference to both earthly and heavenly bodies. This shows, once again, that it is not possible to place verses 39–41 in parallel with verses 42–44 (where “in glory” refers only to the raising of the σωμα πνϵυματικόν, but not to the sowing of σωμα ψυχικόν). Second, Martin explains that Paul speaks of “the pneuma as the entity held in common by human beings and stars.” ³¹ However, when Paul speaks about the stars (v. 41) he does not mention Πνϵυ̑μα at all.

The fact that Paul employs Πνϵυ̑μα only in connection with the resurrection body is a significant drawback for an anthropological interpretation of the text. Martin believes that “for Paul, the current human body is made up of sarx, psyche, and pneuma. The resurrected body will shed the first two of these entities… and retain the third, a stuff of a thinner, higher nature.” ³² However, Paul does not indulge in anthropological speculation. Otherwise Paul would have had to arrange his various terms, understood according to Martin as individual anthropological components, by placing σωμα, σάρξ, ψυχή, and Πνϵυ̑μα on the “merely human” side, and σωμα and Πνϵυ̑μα on the “resurrected” side. ³³ However, Paul uses his terms here mainly in a pars pro toto and broader theological fashion. This is obvious when he says that “flesh and blood” cannot inherit “the kingdom of God” (v. 50) and employs Πνϵυ̑μα ζῳοΰοιου̑ν for Christ (v. 45). Therefore, when Martin claims that “the resurrected body is stripped of flesh, blood, and soul (psyche); it has nothing of the earth in it at all, being composed entirely of the celestial substance of pneuma,” ³⁴ it seems that he is mistaking Paul for Plato. According to Paul’s discourse, however, it is σωμα that stands for the continuity of the believer before and after the resurrection, and not Πνϵυ̑μα (which is only mentioned on the “resurrected” side).

I conclude that the notion of σωμα πνϵυματικόν does not provide sufficient evidence for asserting that Paul had a material concept of the Spirit. Rather, by calling the resurrection body πνϵυματικός, Paul conveys that the natural body will be transformed, animated and enlivened by God’s Spirit. ³⁵ It is the most elegant way Paul can find for saying both that the new body is the result of the Spirit’s work (answering “how does it come to be?”) and that it is the appropriate vessel for the Spirit’s life (answering “what sort of a thing is it?” [v. 35]). Moreover, it is the resurrection body that is the focus of this passage and not the nature of Πνϵυ̑μα. It is thus methodologically misleading to make the phrase σωμα πνϵυματικόν the starting point of one’s understanding of Πνϵυ̑μα in Paul as well as his theology in general, as Engberg-Pedersen has recently done. ³⁶

3. The Spirit and the Sacraments

The remainder of the present section is devoted to the so-called “sacramental” passages that potentially relate both a material concept of the Spirit as well as the infusion with this substance and its religious-ethical effects. Horn explains that “with the sacramental transferal of the Spirit an ontic basis of the new being is given, from which conduct in harmony with the Spirit is to be expected.” ³⁷ The central text on which this thesis rests is 1 Corinthians 12:13. My treatment of this passage deals with two questions: first, is there an infusion with the material Spirit at baptism? (cf. 6:11), and, second: is there an infusion with the material Spirit at the Lord’s Supper? (cf. 10:3–4). In answering the first question (which focuses on 12:13a: “for by one Spirit we were all baptized into one body”), one needs to engage with T. Martin’s fresh arguments for a physical Πνϵυ̑μα-transferal based on the insights from ancient medical texts. ³⁸ A detailed comparison of both texts (and genres) shows that Paul’s language and purpose differ considerably from medical accounts. In 12:13 Paul is concerned with the basis of the Corinthians’ unity and not with the mode of the reception of the S/spirit and of spiritual nutriment. This leads to the conclusion that 1 Corinthians 12:13a does not lend support to the infusion-transformation approach to Paul’s ethics. The Spirit is not portrayed as Stoff that is transferred through the water of baptism in order to re-organize the interior of believers in such a way that holy living would be a natural result. Nor is it likely that the half-line has the Synoptic tradition of “baptism in the Spirit” in view (pace Barth, Dunn, Fee, et al.), although it is possible that Paul uses βαπτίζϵιν as a metaphor for being “plunged” (i.e. incorporated) into the one body by the one Spirit. More likely, however, Paul reminds the Corinthians of their common experience of the one Spirit at their baptism. This conclusion also holds true for 1 Corinthians 6:11. Again, Paul refers the Corinthians back to their conversion-initiation, and the Spirit, though not the single focus of the verse, is portrayed as an instrument of sanctification (cf. Ezek. 36:25–27). However, this connection provides no clues that Paul would in this way introduce the concept of infusion-transformation as an answer to the ethical problems of the Corinthian Christians.

In order to answer the second question (which is based on 12:13c: “we were all made to drink of one Spirit”), one needs to engage with the two interpretative options of this sentence as a reference to either the Lord’s Supper or baptism. I suggest that it is preferable to read πάντϵς ϵ́̔ν Πνϵυ̑μα ϵ̓ποτίσθημϵν as a metaphor for the Corinthians’ reception of the Spirit, functioning as a pars pro toto reference to the Spirit’s activity in conversion-initiation. This interpretation can be tested against the strategies for interpreting metaphors that were developed in the context of the discussion of 1QH^a 15.7 (see above). A metaphorical reading means that the giving of Πνϵυ̑μα (tenor) is spoken of in terms which are suggestive of the drinking of a fluid (vehicle), thus resulting in a new meaning. ³⁹ A literal interpretation of the locution, per contra, conveys that the Spirit itself is a fluid (or fuses with the wine in the Eucharist or the waters of baptism) and enters the person via the skin at baptism or via the mouth and digestive system at the Eucharist. However, there is suggestive evidence for interpreting 1 Corinthians 12:13 as reminding the Corinthians of their common experience of the Spirit at conversion-initiation. Thus, in 13a Πνϵυ̑μα is the subject of divine action in that the Spirit is portrayed as the instrument of baptism. In 13c Πνϵυ̑μα is the object of divine action in that the Spirit is granted to be taken in by the converts. However, we have not seen any evidence that the Spirit was assumed by Paul to be a (physical) substance that would be incorporated into believers through the baptismal waters or the Eucharistic drink in order to become the new substance of their existence.

Conclusion: It can be observed that the infusion-transformation approach to ethical enabling in Paul has been built on passages belonging to those most controversially debated. My exegesis leads to the conclusion that the evidence that has been provided by the religionsgeschichtliche Schule and the modern proponents of the infusion-transformation approach is not satisfactory. One cannot determine an explicit inclusion, transformation or even densification of (nor a demarcation from) Stoic pneumatology in Paul’s writings.

However, from the perspective of the reception of Paul’s letters it cannot be ruled out that Paul’s Spirit-language, as for instance the image of being made to drink of the Spirit (1 Cor. 12:13c), evoked associations of Stoic pneumatology in Paul’s audience. Nonetheless, as we have seen, the philosophic language of Stoicism fundamentally differs from that of Paul. Furthermore, the proponents of the infusion-transformation view would need to provide evidence that Stoic pneumatology was part of the general education of the members of Paul’s churches (and not just of the educated elite), and that they would, over and above that, be able to fill the logical gaps between the role of Πνϵυ̑μα in Stoic physics and the infusion-transformation concept of ethical enabling.

Apart from that, a methodological weakness of the infusion-transformation approach has come to the fore in that this approach places a lot of weight on the (physical) nature of the Spirit and the precise mode of its reception. However, my investigation has shown that Paul does not attribute such an importance to these factors; rather, he leaves these matters open (I am thus not arguing that Paul operates with an immaterial concept of the Spirit). Therefore, I do not establish my own approach to the relationship of Spirit and ethics in Paul on the interpretation of such ambiguous data. Rather, the second instalment of these two articles will propose a model of the work of Spirit in Paul’s ethics that is based on the actual effects which are attributed to the Spirit in Judaism and in Paul.