Re-envisioning the Olympic Games: Paul’s use of athletic imagery in Philippians

Abstract

This essay explores how Paul uses athletic imagery to re-envision the Christian life in his letter to the Philippians. In order to explore how Paul is using athletic imagery I first examine some common associations with athletes in the ancient world. Then I discuss how someone contemporaneous with Paul, Epictetus, appropriated athletic language for his moral philosophical purposes. With this context in view I examine Paul’s usage of athletics, specifically focusing on Philippians 3.13–14. I argue that Paul uses the image of the runner in this passage to vividly portray his autobiography (3.5–11), which makes use of the common associations with the runner and is structured similarly to that of Epictetus’ usage of athletics. Given this imagery’s central position in chapter 3 and how it relates to other aspects of the letter, I then explore its connection to Paul’s overarching aim. I conclude that the athletic imagery in Philippians 3.13–14 actually encapsulates what Paul is aiming to do in this letter.

Keywords

athletics divine agency goal-orientation human agency Olympics Paul Philippians

Introduction

The Olympics, which began in Olympia in the Peloponnesus of Greece in 776 bce, played an important role in creating and sustaining Greek values and ideals. It was an event that occurred every four years and was connected to a network of institutions (e.g. gymnasia), practices (e.g. athletic training) and beliefs (e.g. notions about the good and the beautiful) that were intimately bound up with Greek identity. Alexander the Great (and his successors) sought to spread this network of Greek culture across the east in his attempt to create a Panhellenic world. When Rome’s empire emerged and took over the Mediterranean world, the Romans generally left the Hellenistic aspects of the cities intact. The Games, of which the four most famous were the Olympic, Isthmian, Pythian and Nemean, remained popular across a vast swathe of the population. An epitaph of a baker who lived in Macedonia gives evidence of this, testifying that he had gone to Olympia twelve times to see them.¹ It was not just Greeks who were interested in the Games; there is evidence that both the Romans and the Jews were too. While Romans typically preferred combat sports, Greek athletics were held in Pompeii and were part of the festivities held by Julius Caesar in 46 bce when he turned the Campus Martius into a stadium.² For the Jews, Claudius’ letter to the Alexandrians testifies to their interest in the Games. In this document he tells the Alexandrians that the Jews are not to try to attend the Games, which implies that there were some attempting to do so.³ Athletics was something that crossed gender lines as well. There is evidence that women participated in them, which is best illustrated in an inscription from Greece that celebrates the athletic victories of three sisters at places like Isthmia, Nemea and Delphi.⁴ The broad appeal of the Games made knowledge of athletics widespread in the first century ce and therefore someone like Paul could use this imagery as he attempted to communicate to an audience steeped in Greek culture. In this essay I will explore how Paul uses athletic imagery in his letter to the Philippians. In order to understand his usage of this imagery first it is necessary to address some common associations with athletes, especially runners, since this is the imagery in view in Philippians 3.13–14. It will also prove helpful to examine how others in Paul’s world were using the language of athletics. This will provide an analogous usage which we can correlate with that of Paul.

Exertion, goal-orientation and divine aid

The event that is most useful for understanding the athletic imagery in Philippians 3.13–14 is the stadion. The stadion was a sprint (c.192 m) that went from one side of the stadium to the other. It began at the starting line (called a balbis) that had a starting gate (called a hysplex) attached to it with cords that, until they were dropped, kept the runners back, thus ensuring an equal start.⁵ The finishing line (called a terma) was another balbis installed at the opposite end of the stadium. Lucian, a satirist who wrote in the second century ce, provides a picture of what one would see when watching the stadion race.

Immediately the hysplex has fallen the good runner thinks only of what is in front of him and, stretching (apoteinas) his mind (dianoian) toward the terma and putting his hope of victory in his feet, does not plot against the fellow next to him or even consider his competitors.⁶

The good runner is depicted as one who has a singular goal in view and who exerts himself in seeking to attain this goal. While Lucian has selected aspects of the runner that are useful for his purposes, this notion of the runner singularly focused on that which is before him and strenuously exerting himself to attain it can be seen elsewhere as well. For example, in an epigram that would have once been on the base of a bronze statue, the epigrapher, after describing the bronze sprinter as flying across the racecourse, states that the runner’s entire body has been stamped with expectation of the Olympic crown, and that ‘he shows that the breath on the tip of his lips comes from deep within the hollow of his sides’.⁷ Again, the runner is associated with having a singular focus upon a goal, winning the crown, and his body is viewed as completely marked by this goal, exerting himself strenuously to attain it.

These texts seem to portray athletes as ones who solely through their own efforts attain their goal. There is evidence, however, that, while the athletes were known for their strenuous effort, it was also believed that the gods aided them and gave them victory. This is poetically displayed in one of Pindar’s odes:

And you, Far-shooter [i.e. Apollo], who govern the all-welcoming [i.e. Panhellenic] famous temple in the vales of Pytho, it was there that you granted the greatest of joys, and earlier at home you bestowed the coveted gift of the pentathlon during the festivities for you both [Apollo and his sister Artemis].⁸

In another ode Apollo is described as the one who rouses and drives on (auxetai) the performance of the athlete. The contestant’s efforts, from beginning (archa) to end (telos), are completely attributed to the workings of Apollo and the outcome is attributed to the god’s plans.⁹ A small statuette of a runner found in Olympia that was probably a votive offering given by a runner after a victory is also evidence of this belief.¹⁰ It has a dedication to Zeus inscribed on the runner’s leg stating, ‘I belong to Zeus’. From these texts and artefacts we can gather that athletes were associated with exertion, goal-orientation, and that it was believed divine help enabled them to attain victory.

Epictetus and athletic imagery

The moral philosophers of the ancient world found athletic imagery useful to conceptualize various aspects of their moral projects; that is, presenting what it meant to live a good life. This was owing in large part to the athlete’s association with a singular focus on a goal, and the need for exertion to attain that goal. Epictetus, a Stoic writing in the later first and early second century ce, illustrates the latter when he depicts how difficulties are to be viewed as opportunities for training. He views trials in life as contests where one can compete, exerting oneself, and thus developing a virtue such as courage.¹¹ He also uses athletic imagery to conceptualize the entirety of the moral philosophical life. Here, exertion and goal-orientation are combined in his portrayal of living well. He states that the contest (agōn) in which he is engaged is not those of the Games but the contest of eutuchia (good fortune) and eudaimōnia (usually translated happiness, but living well is probably more appropriate). The latter was thought of as the telos of life. It was the ultimate aim in life under which all other aims should be subsumed. The telos therefore mapped out a course for how one was to live by providing the singular aim with respect to which one could organize the whole of life. All moral philosophers used this word to designate the telos of life, but they differed in their discussions as to what this consisted in. For the Stoics, eudaimōnia consisted in living according to nature, which is also stated as living according to reason. The contest is the struggle to align oneself with that which is mapped out by nature/reason. Epictetus goes on to explain this contest in terms of athletics:

Even if we fail here and now, no one stops us from competing again; we don’t have to wait another four years for the next Olympics, but as soon as a man has picked himself up and renewed his grip on himself and shown the same enthusiasm he is allowed to compete. And if you give in again, you can compete again, and if once you win, you are like someone who never gave in at all.¹²

Epictetus views the Stoic life as a whole as a contest, not where one competes with others, but a contest with oneself.¹³ He uses athletic imagery to portray this, capturing both the need for continued effort as one faces losses and the notion that one is striving for a particular goal, living well (i.e. living according to nature/reason). For Epictetus, every situation provides one with a competition, whether or not to make correct judgements, so that one can make progress in the art of life to achieve wellbeing (eudaimōnia). Elsewhere, Epictetus even calls the person who does this the invincible athlete.¹⁴

To summarize, Epictetus uses athletic imagery to portray how one is to aim at a particular goal and exert effort to attain that goal. This goal is the ultimate aim in life, living well (eudaimōnia), which is defined in an active way as living according to nature/reason. One is engaged in a contest to align oneself with the path marked out by this course.

Athletic imagery in Philippians

Paul uses athletic language in several places in Philippians (1.27, sunathlountes; 1.30, agōna; 2.16, edramon; 3.13–14, forgetting the things behind and stretching forward to the things before, I press on; 4.1, stephanos; 4.3, sunēthlēsan). Our focus will be upon 3.13–14 since this is the most extended usage of athletic imagery and, as will be shown, relates to the overall aim of the letter. Philippians 3.13–14 has typically been read as Paul countering claims to perfectionism (usually Jewish perfectionism). These readings, however, make too much of the perfection vocabulary in 3.12 in their mirror-reading of opponents. While the notion of Jewish perfectionism is usually seen as flowing out of the thought in 3.2–11, as Morna Hooker has argued, ‘the warning [in 3.2] serves mainly to introduce a discussion of his [Paul’s] own renunciation of Jewish privilege, which reflects Christ’s own self emptying’.¹⁵ The Judaizing threat does not appear to be present in Philippi and the warning is general rather than specific in nature (and more exhortatory than polemical). Furthermore, the two issues currently facing the Philippians that are emphasized throughout the letter (as many commentators have pointed out) are persecution from without and disunity from within, not problems associated with false teachers of whatever kind. Moreover, the verb in 3.12 (teteleiōmai, having been brought to completion) can be understood as furthering the idea of the initial verb in the sentence (labon, received) and thus have nothing to do with Paul taking up the language of opponents. The athletic imagery is therefore best read not as Paul countering perfectionist opponents but as Paul’s concluding thoughts in his presentation of himself (3.5–11), which sets up his exhortation to the Philippians to join together in imitating him (3.17). Verses 5–11 narrate Paul’s life, while verses 13–14 vividly portray his life.

As with the usage of athletic imagery in Epictetus, Paul emphasizes both exertion and goal-orientation. The exertion is evident in his usage of ‘press on’ (diōkō), a present tense verb indicating continuous action. The present participle ‘stretching forward’ (epekteinomenos) advances further the idea of exertion and highlights the intensity of his effort. This verb (related to that which Lucian uses in the text above) is prefixed with a preposition giving it an emphatic nuance and is probably best understood in terms of exertion to the uttermost.¹⁶ The goal-orientation is seen in Paul’s singularity of focus. Prior to the athletic imagery he states literally, ‘but one thing’ (hen de); that is, there is one thing that he considers. The first participle that follows (‘forgetting’) can be treated either as Paul referring to something specific (i.e. his past privileges and accomplishments in Judaism as well as his achievements post conversion) or as indicating more generally the focus of the runner in attending to one thing. As the text from Lucian illustrated, the good runner thinks only of what is in front of him. Thus, forgetting what is behind could signal the singularity of focus of the runner coming out of the starting gate and attending only to the goal. This goal-orientation is most clearly seen in 3.14 where Paul states he presses on toward the goal. There is one goal toward which he strenuously exerts himself.

Running towards the goal

Runners obviously focused on the finishing line, the terma, but, as we noticed with Epictetus, when this imagery is appropriated for other purposes the goal can be understood as something else. The question is begged, what is the goal for Paul? By following the flow of his thought in 3.7–11 we can identify this. He begins this passage after delineating his Jewish privileges and accomplishments (3.5–6) by indicating that these things he now considers loss on account of Christ. In his re-evaluation of values, he goes on to state that he considers them rubbish in order that he might gain Christ, and continues by stating how he wants to be found in Christ and to know Christ in a participatory way (3.9–11). In 3.12 Paul begins with a clarification, ‘not that (ouch hoti) I have already received’, which is probably a teaching device to set up something that he wants to emphasize.¹⁷ The verb has no object; so one must fill in what it is that Paul has not received. That which he has not received is knowing Christ to the extent that he desires to do so, which is the main topic in 3.7–11 and thus naturally fits as the object of the verb. The sentence (3.12) could be rendered, ‘not that I have already received Christ in such a way or already arrived at this goal, but I press on in order that I might attain it’. The goal at which Paul aims his life, for which he stretches out strenuously, is therefore Christ, gaining him fully in the sense described in 3.7–11.

The athletic imagery highlights the strenuous effort of Paul in reaching forward to this goal, but does it do more than this? Does the goal in any way affect how he runs? As noted in the epigram above the runner’s body was seen as shaped by his goal of gaining the Olympic crown. Epictetus as well uses athletic imagery to depict how the goal of living well (i.e. living according nature/reason) is to shape the contours of one’s life. Since the goal for Paul is Christ, exploring what he emphasizes about Christ in Philippians can help us to understand the ways in which this goal might shape how he runs. As has long been noted, a central feature of Philippians is the Christ hymn/story (2.6–11). While one should be cautious not to reduce this story to simply an ethical example, it is fair to say that Paul uses this story as the basis for how he reasons about the Christian life (2.5).¹⁸ It is the plot structure of Christ’s story, his self-lowering and obedience in this path all the way to the point of the shameful death on a cross, which is then rewarded by God with exaltation, that provides the analogous pattern for thinking about Christian existence.

This can be illustrated in the way Paul narrates his autobiography. Paul’s life of renunciation follows an analogous path as Christ’s. He has given up privileges and accomplishments, and now he even envisages his life in terms of the Christ story (i.e. suffering, death and resurrection). This same downward/upward pattern is evident in Paul’s exhortation to the Philippians. He instructs them in humility (tapeinophrosunē)¹⁹ to consider others ahead of themselves, not to look out for their own interests but rather the interests of others (2.3–4): a downward movement. Paul even sees the believers’ lives as being so marked by such behaviour that he characterizes the body prior to Christ’s transformation of it at his return (the upward movement) as a body of humiliation (3.21, to sōma tēs tapeinōseōs) echoing both the noun used in 2.3 and the verb in 2.8. Paul’s and the Philippians’ experience of suffering also illustrates how the Christ story forms the basis for his reasoning about Christian existence. Paul in discussing his circumstances (imprisonment, probably on capital charges) exclaims that Christ will be magnified in his body (1.20), and states that for him to live is Christ. He exhorts the Philippians not to be afraid of those opposing them (1.28), and tells them that it has actually been given to them to suffer for the sake of Christ (1.29). Paul even states that somehow this experience gives evidence of the Philippians’ salvation (1.28). Again, it is because of the Christ pattern that Paul reasons in such a way. Suffering and self-lowering are the path to exaltation. It is precisely in conforming one’s life to Christ’s, which entails the fellowship of Christ’s sufferings (cf. 3.10), that gives evidence of final deliverance, which is salvation.

For both Paul and the Philippians a reward, analogous to the reward given to Christ, is held out for those who conform to the Christ pattern. The downward movement of humility and suffering brings the expectation of the upward movement of resurrection, salvation and ultimate transformation. We see the same in Paul’s image of the runner. He states in 3.13–14 not only that he is pressing on towards the goal but also that he will be rewarded with a prize. The prize is described with a series of genitives ‘of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus’. Given the way in which Paul typically uses the word ‘call’ (klēsis),²⁰ the prize is probably best understood as that which is held out in God’s call to salvation (a subjective genitive). The preposition ‘upward’ (anō) designates the direction of this calling (i.e. it is one that follows an upward trajectory). This, again like the shape of how one is to run, is predicated upon the Christ story; hence it is an upward movement.

The emphasis in our discussion of Paul’s use of athletic imagery has thus far focused on one’s own exertion in pursuing the goal of gaining Christ and thus receiving a reward. Paul, much more strongly than Epictetus, yet more in accord with Pindar’s presentation of the athlete, presents the entirety of the Christian life as one that is made possible through the activity of God. Just prior to Paul’s use of athletic imagery in 3.13–14 he speaks of being apprehended by Christ (3.12). Commentators largely agree that what is in view is Paul’s conversion experience; the point at which God revealed his son in Paul (cf. Gal. 1.16).²¹ Paul views both the beginning of Christian existence (cf. 1.6) and its completion (cf. 3.20–21) in terms of the activity of God. Even one’s obedience is viewed in connection with divine activity. He states in 2.13 that it is God who is working in you continuously to will and to work. The present tenses of the verbs in this sentence highlight the ongoing activity of God as believers continue to work out their own salvation. This is seen again in 4.13 where Paul states that he can do all things by the one who enables him (another present tense verb). There is a robust understanding of divine agency in this letter, which is coupled with an emphasis on the need for human effort. Paul’s use of the runner in 3.13–14, in accordance with beliefs about the runner in antiquity, should be viewed in this regard. Paul signals as much in 3.12 where he calls attention to Christ’s incursion into his life and in 3.14 where the prize is viewed in terms of the calling of God in Christ Jesus.

Athletic imagery and the aim of Philippians

The image of the runner in 3.13–14 gathers together many central features of the letter. Given this and how Paul uses it to vividly portray his narrative, we should ask what the relationship of this imagery is to Paul’s overarching aim in this letter. This aim is highlighted in the thanksgiving section of Philippians (1.3–11), and can be summarized as Paul exhorting the Philippians to make progress in leading a life that will be found pure and blameless on the day of Christ, by developing a particular way of reasoning.²² In this section Paul twice calls attention to how their lives are moving in a particular trajectory towards a specific goal (1.6, 10–11). In his prayer for them he develops this idea in terms of their love abounding in knowledge to discern the things that really matter in order that they would arrive at their goal (1.9–10). As the rest of Philippians demonstrates, knowledge to discern the things that matter is that which is bound up with the Christ story. It is the drama of Christ’s downward/upward pattern that is to form the basis of their knowledge, and it is with respect to this narrative that they are to discern what matters. By analogously aligning their lives to the Christ story they will be more and more conformed to Christ and thus be able to lead lives that result in purity and blamelessness at the day of Christ.

Paul begins his exhortation to the Philippians with both a political and an athletic metaphor (1.27) to unpack this idea of making progress. He returns to an athletic metaphor at the end of his exhortation as well (4.3). But, it is the athletic imagery in 3.13–14 that best fills out and sums up this orientation. Just as the runner aims at a particular goal, so does the Christian. The goal is Christ; that is, gaining him fully, which is presented as ultimately being transformed to be like him (3.20–21), and also expressed as being pure and blameless on the day of Christ (1.10–11). This goal shapes the contours for how the believer is to run the race; it maps out a course for how he or she is to live. As we have seen, the Christ story provides an analogous pattern for thinking about Christian existence and informs how believers are to reason about their life in the face of various circumstances. The athletic imagery presents the Christian life as a contest, where believers are engaged in a struggle to align themselves with the pattern marked out by Christ. As believers exert themselves in an attempt to conform to the life of Christ, all of which is intertwined with the enabling activity of God, they make progress towards attaining the goal. Given the way athletic imagery depicts the Christian life, and that Paul uses it to vividly depict his life, which he emphasizes is a pattern for his readers to imitate (3.17; 4.9), we can safely conclude that the image of the runner in 3.13–14 indeed encapsulates Paul’s aim in Philippians.

Conclusion

Paul draws on the familiar imagery of athletics, which was associated with the Olympic Games, to re-envision the Christian life. He presents Christian existence as a life of progress toward a particular goal. Christ is viewed as the goal of life and therefore the one who maps out a course for how believers are to live. Progress is made in this contest as believers align their lives to the Christ story. As athletes strenuously exert themselves in their effort to attain the goal and win the prize, so Paul envisions the Christian life in an analogous way. Believers are to make every effort to imitate the Christ pattern. This exertion, as with ancient athletes, is viewed not in terms solely of personal striving but also in terms of God’s initiative and continued activity as believers make progress in conforming their lives to that of Christ. Paul depicts his life as a runner in a race aimed at a goal, an image that not only vividly portrays his understanding of himself but also encapsulates his overarching aim in Philippians.

Footnotes

Notes

Author Biography

Bradley Arnold is a PhD student in the Department of Theology and Religion, University of Exeter.