Abstract
Despite the scholarly consensus regarding the logical importance of Paul’s reference to baptism in Gal. 3.27, there has been hardly any sustained analysis of why such a brief reference could be effective. With the recent emergence of interdisciplinary methods from cognitive science, memory studies, notions of embodiment, and ritual theories, this study explores the social impact of Paul’s reference to baptism. Paul simultaneously reinforces his authority over, and solidarity with, the Galatian communities in a ‘misrecognized’ manner – neither of which could be claimed by the ‘agitators’ against whom he is arguing.
1. Introduction
In a letter that is densely packed with arguments, Gal. 3.26-29 functions as an important literary unit for Paul’s overall argument. His syntax and semantics indicate that Gal. 3.27 is particularly fundamental, expressing his view that baptism is the means to a comprehensively transformative union with Christ. However, as important as it is, the enigmatic placement of 3.27 does raise questions of rhetorical congruency and the logic of Paul’s train of thought. Despite these observations, there has not been much sustained analysis on the brevity and impact of Paul’s reference to baptism because its social implications have been largely ignored due to other pressing interpretive problems, the under-utilization of various interdisciplinary methods, and the fact that the subsequent verse is loaded with social implications (3.28). I therefore draw on concepts from cognitive science, memory studies, embodiment and ritual theories 1 in order to explore how the reference to baptism functions rhetorically and what this reference actually expresses. 2 In short, Paul’s reference to baptism evokes a memory whose significance cannot be fully articulated, part of which is to express his authority over, and his fellowship with, the communities that he founded in Galatia.
Before employing the modern interdisciplinary concepts referenced above, it is important to base this study on the text of Galatians and background studies on baptism. Hence, we will first examine the rhetorical and logical function of the literary unit in question (Gal. 3.26-29). This examination will give us the first clue as to the critical importance attributed by Paul to his brief reference to baptism, thus warranting the second part of this investigation based on the historical background of baptism. Background studies on early baptism suggest that the reference to baptism (3.27) points to the moment when the Galatian Christians were baptized through something close, if not equivalent, to water immersion, a reference that is accompanied by a general baptismal formula (3.28). Once these textual and historical foundations are laid, I will then apply notions of cultural memory and embodiment to explain the brevity of Paul’s reference to baptism before integrating various concepts from ritual studies to uncover its social impact. 3
2. The Logical and Rhetorical Flow of Galatians 3.26-29
Galatians 3 is the critical portion of the letter where Paul seeks to construct an identity for his hearers, namely υἱοὶ θεοῦ (3.26). Concerning Gal. 3.26-29 in particular, almost every commentator observes the overtly logical role that these verses play within Paul’s overall argument. 4 Such an observation is uncontroversial due to the three instances of γάρ that are lodged within these four verses, along with ἄρα to introduce the concluding statement (3.29). What is important about the syntactic arrangement of 3.26-29 is that baptism plays a fundamental role as the logical basis for all of Paul’s assertions in this literary unit due to the inclusion of γάρ in 3.27 (ὅσοι γὰρ εἰς Χριστὸν ἐβαπτίσθητε). The fundamental role of baptism is further supplemented by Paul’s semantic diction. Words like πάντες (3.26, 28) and ὅσοι (3.27) indicate that Paul’s declarations have sweeping implications dripping with theologically radical content. Because of πίστις and not because of strict Torah observance, such as circumcision (2.1-14; 5.2-12; 6.11-15), all of Paul’s hearers are one in Christ Jesus, a new reality that profoundly alters their social relationships (3.28) and ensures that they are the true recipients of the Abrahamic promises (3.29). In sum, their union with Christ introduces a cosmologically transformed reality that impacts both their relationships with one another and with God (Martyn 1997: 375-76), all of which is facilitated through baptism (3.27). 5
In conjunction with these syntactic and semantic observations, Richard Longenecker has highlighted an important rhetorical problem: ‘Structurally, one can go from v 26 to v 29, omitting vv 27-28, without noticing any break in Paul’s logic or grammar’ (1990: 154). In other words, it is relatively unexpected that at this point in Paul’s all-important argument concerning πίστις and the law, he makes this brief, and somewhat cryptic, reference to baptism. 6 The brevity – or even ambiguity – of this reference has led to questions such as the following: Is Paul referring to a literal ritual? If so, how does this ritual function in Paul’s argument? The most satisfactory responses to these questions come from the interpretations of Hans Dieter Betz and Peter Oakes who independently notice the rhetorical purpose of Paul’s reference. The reference functions as a ‘reminder’ of the baptism event (Betz 1979: 184-85), an event that was so vivid because it presumably took place publicly and involved the physical discomfort of being in the water (and possibly being naked) (Oakes 2015: 130).
3. Historical Background of Baptism
The interpretations of Betz and Oakes (i.e., Gal. 3.27 is a reminder of a literal baptism event that took place in the past) raise two questions. First, is it possible that Paul is making a metaphorical, rather than literal, reference to baptism? And secondly, if it is a reference to a literal event, how was baptism conducted in Paul’s own context? Concerning the first question, there are only a few scholars who present the possibility that Paul is speaking of a metaphorical baptism. 7 Even if this were the case, however, would not any kind of reference to baptism – literal or metaphorical – conjure up memories of the actual ritual? 8
Concerning the second question, concentrated studies on baptism, particularly Everett Ferguson’s monumental study (2009), have established that baptism in the early Jesus movement would have most likely been a full water immersion. Although this assertion should be qualified by Robin M. Jensen’s criticism of how Ferguson’s analysis of the architectural evidence might have been too narrowly focused, Jensen nonetheless concludes that a high volume of water was still included for baptisms and that ‘it may be reasonable to suppose that submersion was the norm, at least at first’ (2012b: 385). 9 Beyond these findings, it is difficult to reconstruct how the actual practice of baptism was conducted due to the paucity of available data. Recent scholarship has, however, assumed or argued that this ritual would have taken place in a group setting (e.g., Oakes 2015: 130) and would have been distinct in some ways from the ablutions of mystery cults and public baths (Graf 2011; Turley 2015: 51-57), and yet very similar to the washing practices of Second Temple Judaism (Freyne 2011). 10 For the purposes of this study, however, all that is required is that Gal. 3.27 refers to, or at least evokes the memory of, the literal baptism of Paul’s hearers, which would have involved large amounts of water, if not immersion.
Now that the literary and historical contexts have been established, we can explore the impact of this baptismal reference in Gal. 3.27. How does it function in Paul’s rhetoric? Here I draw upon the theoretical tools of collective memory, embodiment and ritual studies.
4. Memory Studies
Recently there has been both a ‘memory crisis’ and a ‘memory boom’, with compelling research on memory undertaken from a wide range of disciplines such as sociology, anthropology, psychology and neuroscience. 11 In his book Beyond the Archive, Jens Brockmeier has synthesized current research from these disparate fields in order to debunk the traditionally held and deeply seated understanding of memory as stored in an ‘archive’ (2015: 1-62). He understands memory as an autobiographical narrative, which foregrounds the idea that memory reveals just as much, if not more, of the present’s hope for the future as it does of the actual events of the past. 12 In the case of Paul, Brockmeier’s observation can explain what the apostle is attempting to accomplish through this reference to baptism. He is reinterpreting the baptism of his hearers by accentuating notions that were latent at the time of the ritual for his present purpose of addressing the authority, authenticity and the ‘egalitarian impulses’ of his ministry. 13
Since Brockmeier is focused primarily on the autobiographical process, his contribution to memory studies does not explain how Paul’s rhetoric would have been effective for his hearers. Maurice Halbwachs’s concept of collective memory (1992), and more recent variations by modern collective memory theorists, 14 is thus an important tool for the present study as it explores why and how baptism would have been evocative for Paul’s hearers. 15 This not only substantiates the perceptive interpretations of Betz and Oakes, but also opens up a vantage point into what Paul and the Galatians experienced together. Memory, according to Halbwachs, is collective and is generated by, and concurrently generates, the ideals, experiences and presuppositions of a given group (cf. Stowers 2011; more details below). Ultimately, collective memory has a constructive function in that it shapes the identity of a particular group. In order to articulate the underpinnings of this dynamic, this section will underscore that (1) memory needs to be tethered to emotions and a community, and, related to this, (2) an ‘embodied’ event makes the memory more indelible and ineffable. 16
4.1. Memory Requires Emotions and Community
Concerning the first notion of memory as tied to emotions and a community, memory studies have established that the process of remembering cannot be reduced to merely an ‘intellectual’ or ‘objective’ faculty. Memories are only remembered when they have value or meaning, requiring them to include some subjective or emotional factor (Assmann 2006: 3). Whether it is from Harald Welzer’s research into social physiology (2008) or Antonio Damasio’s work in neuroscience (2012), it has been well demonstrated that the content of memory is never an isolated object, but that it involves an individual’s holistic interaction with that object whereby only the ‘emotionally salient’ aspects are remembered. 17 ‘Thus it is often the case that it is more the emotional dimension, the atmospheric tinge of a report that is passed on and determines the image and interpretation of the past’ (Welzer 2008: 295). Indeed, the ability to remember is as emotive as it is cognitive. 18 In the case of the Galatians, Paul describes his hearers as having received the gospel message with strong emotions; they ‘received [Paul] as an angel of God … and would have plucked out [their] eyes and given them to [Paul]’ (4.14-15) and ‘suffered so much’ (3.4; from the verb πάσχω). These recollections point to a moment that would have been related to, or even coincided with, their baptism. In fact, it is likely that baptism is what produced the reception of the Spirit and the experience of miraculous activities (3.1-5) as Paul makes explicit elsewhere (1 Cor. 12.4-13). Paul could therefore be simultaneously reflecting upon and injecting emotional meaning into the moments of the Galatians’ spiritual rebirth. 19
Although the ability to remember is based on the biological faculties of an individual body (which includes emotions), the process of recording and recalling memories includes social and cultural factors. 20 As Jan Assmann remarks, while the individual ‘is the sole possessor of a memory … what is at issue is the extent to which this unique memory is socially and culturally determined’ (2006: 8). According to Halbwachs, ‘the individual calls recollections to mind by relying on the frameworks of social memory’ (1992: 182), and it is in society ‘that people normally acquire … recall, recognize, and localize their memories’ (1992: 38). 21 Thus, the memory of baptism is not only conditioned and reinforced by the accompanying emotions of the individual, but also by the individual’s ‘community’.
The notion of community and all of its attendant assumptions have been problematized by Stanley Stowers. He points out that scholars tend to assume that this notion of community implies a group that is ‘highly cohesive with commonality in belief and practice’ (2011: 245). Although in Galatians we only have Paul’s side of the story, there is evidence that the hearers of this letter did not consist of a ‘highly cohesive’ group or community (e.g., Watson 2007: 100-35; Hellholm 2011: 458-59). For instance, there are indications that some of Paul’s hearers were not adhering to, or were at least unclear on, the initial message that Paul had preached (Gal. 1.6-7; 3.1–5.1). Moreover, Paul’s sustained discussion on circumcision (2.1-14; 5.2-12; 6.11-5) implies that there was dissension among Paul’s hearers on which ritual practices should be normative.
On the other hand, there is evidence throughout the letter that Paul is seeking to create some sense of unity (e.g., DeMaris 2008: 25; Stowers 2011: 242-43; Horrell 2016). Paul frequently reminds his hearers of their spiritual rebirth (Gal. 1.6; 3.1, 3-5; 4.13-15, 19). In each of these instances, there is a social focus: Paul frequently uses plural pronouns (e.g., ὑμᾶς), which remind his hearers of their shared experiences (3.3-4) and the miracles that were performed among them (ἐν ὑμῖν in 3.5), and he regards them as his ‘children’ (τέκνα in 4.19). As noted earlier, words such as πάντες and ὅσοι (3.26-28) imply that Paul is not only trying to make a strong soteriological claim, but a social one as well (see also 3.28). That Paul reminds his hearers of their baptism both explicitly (3.27) and implicitly through the baptismal formula (3.28), without any need for elaboration, implies that the baptismal experience was ‘common knowledge’ for his hearers (Chwe 2013). 22 Accordingly, this serves as a key premise to Paul’s ‘Argumentationsstrategie’ to address social issues among his hearers as he also does in 1 Cor. 12 (Hellholm 2011: 471). 23 To return to Assmann’s quotation (2006: 8), each hearer’s memory of baptism is thus being interpreted, or ‘determined’, in part by Paul. Before discussing what Paul is specifically attempting to signify through this brief reference, we must not overlook the embodied element of baptism.
4.2. Embodiment
Beyond the emotional and collective layers involved in the processes of memory, there is yet another aspect of memory that makes it both ineffable and indelible. The embodiment of an act—that is, the sensorimotor aspect—has a crucial effect on one’s memory as suggested by recent research in cognitive science. However, embodiment cannot be restricted to the physical alone. As Mark Johnson argues, there is no ‘fundamental ontological divide between mind and body’ (2007: 7). They ‘are not two things, but rather aspects of one organic process’ (2007: 1). Moreover, the word ‘process’ is instructive. In his articulation of how the mind works, Damasio concedes that he ‘cannot emphasize the word interaction enough’ (2012: 67). In the same vein, Johnson describes an individual’s interactions with the world (which includes oneself) as ‘visceral connections to life’ (2007: ix). Far from simply encoding into and decoding from the static archive, the processes involved in memory are dynamic and visceral, with the embodied mind playing an absolutely essential role.
Hence, the sensorimotor dimension of baptism is critical. At this stage in the history of Christianity, baptism involved immersion or at least large amounts of water. One of the important implications of embodiment is that when sensorimotor faculties are a fundamental aspect of an experience, the full depth of that experience cannot be exhaustively expressed through words. Similarly, anthropologist Harvey Whitehouse would categorize baptism, especially considering its high degree of ‘personal consequentiality’, as an imagistic mode of religiosity. Because baptism would trigger one’s episodic memory – rather than one’s semantic memory – the individual is invited to ‘spontaneous exegetical reflection’ but does not have an explicitly articulated understanding of the ritual’s significance. 24 Embodiment described in this manner is a challenge to the modern preference towards propositional logic and the assumption that meaning is limited to, or identical with, verbal linguistics (so Shantz 2009: 1-66). On the contrary, Johnson incisively argues that meaning transcends verbal and written communication by advancing various pieces of evidence, such as studies on how infants are able to learn meaning prior to formulating language (2007: 33-51). As philosopher/psychologist E.T. Gendlin has demonstrated, internal thoughts, though often perceived to be vague, are actually very deep and very precise, even more so than overtly expressed language (1995). 25 While it is beyond the scope of this study to debate linguistic theories such as the Sapir-Whorf hypothesis, it can at least be presumed that there are instances in even Paul’s (and his contemporaries’) writing where certain realities are ineffable (e.g., 1 Cor. 2.11; Rom. 8.23, 26; cf. also 1 Pet. 1.8). It is therefore not coincidental that a panoply of motifs is used to describe the significance of baptism in early Christian writings. 26
Not only is embodied memory ineffable, but various theorists have shown that it is indelible, particularly when associated with rituals. 27 Edward Casey concludes that an embodied memory ‘perdures because of its capacity to permeate one’s entire sensibility and thus to be an invaluable sacrament’ (2000: 253). Paul Connerton proposes that between the two types of social practices – incorporating and inscribing practices – the former is more effective as a mnemonic device (1989: 71-88). It follows, then, that the experience of baptism would have been memorable for Paul and the Galatians. In other words, there is an inextricable convergence between memory, embodiment and ritual – all factors that are at play in Paul’s brief reference to baptism.
This convergence is especially effective in shaping a communal sense of feeling, attitude and even identity due to the tacit nature of embodied knowledge produced by rituals (see also Manier and Hirst 2008: 259). Indeed, it is precisely this tacit (or ineffable) characteristic of embodied knowledge that becomes a key premise in our exploration into ritual studies. Is it possible to extract some of the obscure significance of Paul’s reference to baptism despite its brevity? I will argue in the affirmative that – through various concepts in ritual studies – this endeavour is possible precisely because of the brevity of Paul’s reference to baptism. 28 That is, ritual studies provide the tools to help explain how ‘Paul does not argue for baptism but from it’ and also to delineate what Paul’s argument actually is (DeMaris 2008: 15; italics original).
5. The Social Impact of Baptism
Rather than proposing a static theory of ritual that is susceptible to unhelpful generalizations, Catherine Bell provides a dynamic framework of ritualization that more accurately models the specific nuances of how and why rituals can be effective (2009b) – or, as Wayne Meeks insightfully asks, ‘What do they do?’ (2003: 142; italics original). Though Bell advances a number of profound concepts related to ritual, only one of these will be applied in our examination of Gal. 3.27: the idea that misrecognition occurs during rituals. 29
In order to understand Bell’s concept of ‘misrecognition’, we must first recall how she defines rituals: they are social practices with a heightened degree of situationality, strategy, misrecognition and redemptive hegemony (2009b: 81). Bell’s concept of misrecognition is largely based on Jacques Derrida’s critique on structuralism and Edward Said’s ‘practical worldliness of the text’, along with Louis Althusser’s theory of seeing and not seeing (2009b: 86-88, 104-107, 108-10, 113-14). Within the context of rituals, Bell argues that how a ritual works is its ability to make an impact in an ineffable – or misrecognized – manner where ‘meaning may never be given but is always implied’ in an ‘endless deferral of reference’ (2009b: 105). Not even the one who conducts the ritual – let alone the participants – is fully aware of the full depth of its significance. Indeed, rituals can be viewed as a ‘mute’ activity whose significance cannot be fully encapsulated across ‘the threshold of discourse or systematic thinking’ (2009b: 93). The elusiveness that is inherent to rituals compels Whitehouse to describe rituals as acts that ‘invite exegesis’ and articulates how ‘they open the floodgates to an indefinite flow of possible interpretations or symbolic motivations’ (2004: 4; italics original). In the case of Paul and the Galatians, it is the misrecognition – or ineffability – of baptism that allows it successfully to hierarchize and integrate a community.
5.1. Hierarchization: An Expression of Authority
Within this concept of misrecognition, Bell, citing Émile Durkheim and Claude Lévi-Strauss, asserts that what is certain about rituals is that they create a series of binary oppositions that ‘almost always involve asymmetrical relations of dominance and subordination by which they generate hierarchically organized relationships’ (2009b: 102). 30 Additionally, these binary oppositions, though asymmetrical, are hardly ever perceived as imbalanced since they are organically mapped in such a way that makes sense or appears natural to society. 31 An example provided by Bell is the catholic mass, where a binary opposition can be perceived between the priest, who is elevated, and the congregants, who sit at a lower level. Such an opposition, which is rarely verbalized, is subtly associated with other oppositions: the elevated position would align with the priest’s authoritative role and sacred status, while the lower-level position would map to the congregants’ lay role and a more mundane status (2009b: 102).
To use David G. Horrell’s words, there is an ‘irony of power’ even in baptism, perhaps the prima facie example of an ‘egalitarian impulse’ (2016: 133-36; cf. DeMaris 2008: 29-30; Uro 2016: 163-67). For instance, despite the intended inclusiveness that lies behind baptism, it is evident that schisms were nonetheless formed due to competing authorities associated with various baptizers (1 Cor. 1.13-17), forcing Paul to distance himself from baptism altogether. 32 Perhaps the very first baptizer of the NT most succinctly sums up the inherent expression of authority in the act of baptism when he asks Jesus, ‘I need to be baptized by you, and do you come to me?’ (Mt. 3.14). 33
The simple point that Paul was the likely ritual agent for the Galatians’ baptism would have produced and reflected a web of binary oppositions; this would have reinforced his role in the Galatian community, a point that would have served as a helpful reminder of Paul’s authority. As Hellholm suggests, some of the Galatians were being persuaded by teachings that were antithetical to Paul’s gospel (2011: I, 459). One of the ways that Paul responds is by making reference to baptism (Hellholm 2011: I, 467), which bolsters both his gospel and authority; baptism was a visceral reminder of both the Galatians’ spiritual experience and Paul’s leadership role. These observations become even more manifest when recalling the cultural patterns of the ancient Mediterranean reconstructed by Bruce J. Malina in his influential study, particularly concepts of honour/shame and collectivism (2001: 27-29). 34 Drawing upon these patterns and employing Social Identity Theory, Philip F. Esler has argued that one of the primary reasons for Paul having written to the Galatians was that both the authority and authenticity of his gospel were at stake (1998: 58-92, 117-40, 218-22.). 35 Hence, the reference to baptism (Gal. 3.27) can be interpreted as a covert example of Paul’s authority over his hearers – though this should not undermine the spiritual reality of union with Christ, which is still the overarching concern of Paul’s argument. 36 Accordingly, the hierarchical authority engendered by baptism is not equivalent to saying: ‘I have authority over you because I baptized you’. 37 Although the ritual and its reference convey a similar message, they do so in a way that is less direct and more powerful than overt verbalization. That Paul metaphorically describes himself as experiencing the pain of childbirth on behalf of his hearers (4.19) only reinforces this point, not to mention Paul’s frequent reminders to his hearers of their origins with Christ (1.6; 3.1, 3).
5.2. Integration: An Expression of Fellowship
Baptism as a ritual not only conveys Paul’s authority but also integrates a community. 38 Following Michel Foucault, Bell articulates, in her discussion on how rituals constitute social relationships through the negotiation of power, the ritual’s ability to hierarchize synchronously (i.e., to further cement Paul’s authority) and to bring about integration (i.e., to produce fellowship). Power is exerted by the ritual agent, but it is also constrained and limited by the participants, even though they appear to be controlled by the ritual. 39 Within this tension is the unseen negotiation between the two parties until there is ultimately a consensus generating a sense of cohesion.
What is important in this part of Bell’s discussion is that rituals can promote and establish social cohesion and integration; 40 these are also ideas that Paul needs to re-establish due to the precarious state of his hearers (Gal. 1.7; 4.29; 5.10; 6.12). Baptism would have forged a strong ‘kinship’ between the baptized and her or his new community (MacDonald 2009); however, this would also entail ‘profound uncertainty’ and a ‘great deal of anxiety’ with regard to ‘the whole network of social relations in which those parties are embedded’ (DeMaris 2008: 23-24). 41 Baptism does not therefore only signify life in Christ and death to sin, but also life in the new community and death to old communities. Such inferences can be further substantiated by early Christian writings that not only regard baptism as having a soteriological impact, but also a social one (1 Cor. 12.12-13; Justin, 1 Apol. 65). More germane to the Galatians, however, is Paul’s allusion to this communal need of solidarity as he enjoins them to become as he is, for he has become as they are (4.12), an exhortation that resonates with perhaps the most frequently quoted verse about solidarity (3.28). A reference to baptism, especially when regarded as a recollection of the hearers’ ‘common knowledge’ and embodied experience, would stimulate emotions of companionship. In short, Paul, through this reference to baptism (3.27), is not only exerting his authority by reminding the Galatian Christians of his authoritative role, but also his fellowship with them. 42
6. Conclusion
My reading of Gal. 3.26-29 reveals two conflicting rhetorical movements. While Paul’s syntax and semantics point to the fundamental role of baptism, his reference to the ritual is oblique and perhaps even extraneous (Longenecker 1990: 154). This observation raises questions as to why Paul would make such a brief reference to baptism at this point in his rhetoric as well as the possible impact of that reference.
Based on concepts drawn from memory studies, we are able to gain a better understanding of the brevity and impact of Paul’s reference to baptism. The reference is necessarily brief because the full significance of its referent, particularly its accompanying emotions, is ineffable; the reference is also unnecessary because its memory, at least according to Paul, was indelible. What is more, baptism was a phenomenological sensation (tautology intended). This self-evident point corresponds to interrelated notions within memory studies, particularly the efficacy of ritual for memory and the pervasiveness of its embodiment. The very fact that baptism was an embodied experience further ensures that both its depth and precision transcend the power of words, making baptism and its memory that much more effective.
Given the close connection between collective memory, ritual and embodiment, our investigation of Bell’s framework of ritualization has helped us to read between the lines of Paul’s brief reference, uncovering more of its social impact. In a ‘misrecognized’ manner, the reference to baptism simultaneously expresses hierarchy and integration. Paul would have been remembered both as a ritual agent and as one who had been with the Galatian Christians at the very beginning of their spiritual journey, a journey marked by vulnerability and controversy. What Paul is therefore arguing from baptism is one of the competitive advantages he has over his ‘agitators’. 43 Unlike his ‘agitators’, Paul was there at the beginning of the spiritual rebirth of the Galatian communities, a point that is insinuated by this brief reference to baptism (3.27) and reinforced through the baptismal formula (3.28; see also 1.6; 3.1, 3; 4.13-15, 19). Indeed, this moment is interpreted as having altered every aspect of their reality, not only in their union with Christ and in the heavenly way that they relate with one another, but also, perhaps to a lesser degree, in their relationship with Paul. Such a significant event is adeptly elicited by Paul as a way to remind the Galatians of both his authority and their camaraderie originating at the inception of their union with Christ. Returning to Longenecker’s observation regarding the superfluity of Gal. 3.27-28, these verses can therefore be understood as Paul connoting: ‘It is I, not our agitators, who was there with you when you became the offspring of Abraham and the children of God in Christ Jesus’. Moreover, and analogous to our findings emerging from the concepts of memory and embodiment, it is the ritual’s subtlety that makes it rhetorically effective. Paul is keenly aware that certain realities cannot be fully articulated through language, fully remembered within a social framework, fully experienced with embodiment, or even fully generated by a particular ritual. As he writes elsewhere, ‘What no eye has seen, nor ear heard, nor the human heart imagined, what God has prepared for those who love him (1 Cor. 2.9). 44
Footnotes
1.
For an eclectic approach to early Christian rituals, see DeMaris 2008: 20-21; Uro 2009: 231. See Uro’s recent summary on the state of cognitive science, a description of this area of research, and what it can offer to the studies of religion (2016: 41-70); for another recent overview on cognitive science, see Geertz 2017. Although the present study is inspired by the emergence of the cognitive science of religion, it nevertheless addresses primarily sociocultural questions and so Catherine Bell’s framework of ritualization will feature most prominently. For the distinction between them, see Uro 2009: 226-27. Broadly speaking, the cognitive-scientific approach is able to draw conclusions that are more reliable (or at least more verifiable) but more limited in scope. For example, in this study, cognitive science is able to explain how a ritual can be effective, but it might not be suitable to explain what the ritual actually does. Conversely, the sociocultural emphasis might be more speculative, but it offers a wider range in what it can articulate (i.e., what Paul is expressing in his reference to baptism). On a philosophical level, the cognitive science of religion is sometimes perceived to be reductionistic or as unfairly privileging the hard sciences. There have been criticisms on the cognitive-scientific approach to religion, e.g., how Harvey Whitehouse’s approach can neglect ‘ritual performance’, namely its pragmatic effects (Yelle 2006); for more general criticisms, see Bell 1996; Whitehouse and Martin 2004; Whitehouse and McCauley 2005; Czachesz 2010; Luomanen 2013; Biró 2013; Grimes 2014: 200-202. Likewise, there have been criticisms of Bell’s approach (see Grimes 2004: 122-36; Uro 2016: 28-30). For a general overview of ritual studies, see Bell 2005; 
: 19-66.
2.
The closest sustained treatment of Gal. 3.26-29 is found in David Hellholm’s survey of how Paul uses baptismal traditions in 1 Corinthians, Galatians and Romans (to be discussed further below). Hellholm’s study is not focused on Gal. 3.26-29, nor does it explore the underlying concepts concerning why or how Paul’s brief reference in 3.27 can be effective for his argument ().
3.
The use of cultural memory in this study does not necessarily presuppose that the reference to baptism in Gal. 3.27 is to be set within a communal/group setting. All that is being assumed is that the hearers of Galatians understood what baptism was and that most, if not all, of them were baptized – otherwise, 3.27-28 would be, at best, meaningless to Paul’s hearers and, at worst, disadvantageous to his argument. Nevertheless, I would surmise, like most commentators, that this reference to baptism did take place in a communal context. Admittedly, the most explicit data is later. Ignatius warns that baptism can only be done in the presence of a bishop. The communal context is both explicit (‘Let the congregation …’) and implicit (baptism is in conjunction with ‘a love feast’) (Smyrn. 8.2; cf. Magn. 7.1-2; all translations of ancient Greek outside of the NT are from the Loeb Classical Library). Similarly, Justin Martyr’s description of baptism presupposes a communal setting wherein members are assembled together. Against these references to a communal context would be accounts of ad hoc baptisms from Acts (e.g., 8.36, 38), which are more indicative of the embryonic phase of the Jesus movement that precedes Paul’s own context. Note also that in Paul’s writings, references to baptism function to bolster group solidarity (Gal. 3.27-28; 1 Cor. 1.10-17; 12.12-3; though Rom. 6.1-4 would be the exception). See also Uro’s recent study where he suggests that most baptisms occurred in a household setting based on Acts 10.34-48; 16.13-15, 33; 18.8; 1 Cor. 1.16 (cf. 2 Tim. 1.16; 4.19) (: 168-69).
4.
Beasley-Murray 1962: 146-47; Schnackenburg 1964: 183; Betz 1979: 181; Hansen 1989: 137; Dunn 1993: 200; Hartman 1997: 54-55; Witherington 1998: 276; Esler 2006: 31-32; Fee 2007: 140-41; Matera 2007: 142; Schreiner 2010: 255; Hellholm 2011: 471; Moo 2013: 251; Wright 2014: 15; Das 2014: 379; Oakes 2015: 130; Soards 2015: 171; : 29-30.
5.
So Esler 2006: 31-32. For a recent monograph that employs a methodological approach similar to the present study in order to further elaborate on this cosmological significance, see : 49-58.
6.
Although it is unlikely that this is Paul’s first reference to baptism in the letter (cf. Gal. 2.20).
7.
E.g., Dunn 1999; Hunn 2004; Dunn 2010: 109-12. The majority of scholars, on the other hand, regard this specific verse as referring to a literal baptism, e.g., Betz 1979: 186; Bruce 1982: 185; Longenecker 1990: 155; Martyn 1997: 375; Fee 2007: 140-41; Schreiner 2010: 255; Sandnes 2011: 1447-48; De Boer 2011: 243; Moo 2013: 351; Das 2014: 379-80; Oakes 2015: 130; : 171-81.
8.
Related to this is interpreting Gal. 3.28 as a baptismal formula (as most scholars do). In support of this interpretation, see De Boer 2011: 245-46. For others who also interpret Gal. 3.28 as a baptismal formula, see Schlier 1965: 172-75; Bouttier 1976: 6-8; Betz 1979: 181; MacDonald 1987: 4-9; Donaldson 1994: 185; Martyn 1997: 375, 378-83; Witherington 1998: 270-71, 278; Hansen 2010: 154-58; Hellholm 2011: 422-29, 436-37; Vegge 2011: 512-13; Strecker 2011: 1389; Shantz 2013: 252; Soards 2015: 171, 181. For the most recent argument, see : 30-37) who applies J.L. Austin’s speech acts to conclude that Gal. 3.28 was indeed a baptismal formula.
10.
Oakes suggests that it would have been ‘rather radical for a group of various statuses and both genders to engage in a process that probably involved something such as the group going to a river and the new member being immersed in front of the group’ (2015: 130). Although there is no direct evidence to support this, Turley summarizes research in this area to conclude that baptism for Paul was likely distinct in some ways (e.g., the ways in which βαπτίζω and cognates are used, the invocation of Jesus’ name, and the fact that baptism is not the preparation for initiation, but is the initiation itself) (2015: 51-57). DeMaris regards the preference for running and cold water (Did. 7.1-2) as a practice that was observed in Corinth by Paul as a subversive act against the empire’s preference for hot baths (2008: 49-50). On cold water, see also Josephus, Ant. 3.263; Vita 11; B.J. 2.129. Graf’s study (2011) draws on later primary texts (from Justin Martyr and Tertullian). Lastly, note that washing practices of Second Temple Judaism were quite diverse (: 43-79).
11.
On the general background of memory studies and current trends, see Olick, Vinitzky-Seroussi and Levy 2011. On ‘memory crisis’ and ‘memory boom’, see : 15-21.
12.
See especially Brockmeier 2015: 97-128, 257-84. For a similar point specific to Galatians, see Francis Watson’s observation on how Paul re-presents his Jerusalem and Antioch accounts in Gal. 1–2 (2007: 102-108). Note that social memory also implies the opposite effect on how the past shapes the present (Schudson 1989; : 221-22).
13.
The quoted phrase is from David G. Horrell (2016). One of the perennial challenges for historians attempting to interpret ancient texts is the paucity of data. The only available evidence in this case is Paul’s account of the baptism. As Stanley Stowers has argued, Paul’s rhetoric might not always reflect actual historical circumstances, and there is always a gap between prescription and practice (2011: 242-44). The value of employing concepts from these interdisciplinary fields, however, is that they help to fill the gaps between some of the lines of Paul’s text (e.g., : 21).
14.
In particular, Assmann 2006: 1-29; 2008; Manier and Hirst 2008; Markowitsch 2008. For brief introductions to social and cultural memory theories and how they relate to biblical studies, see Kirk 2005; Williams 2011. Note that Jens Brockmeier draws upon Anthony Hoskins and José van Dijck’s ‘connective memory’ to critique the assumption made by Halbwachs and his followers that individual memory and collective memory are separate from each other (: 38-39). For the purpose of this study, however, such a nuanced distinction is immaterial.
15.
16.
Similarly, Georgia Masters Keightley (2005) successfully revives these two exegetical insights of John Knox by intersecting collective memory theory with Paul Connerton’s notion that memory is most effectively sedimented in ritual; the present study, however, focuses more on Paul as founder of, rather than participant in, these early ‘Christian’ communities and also focuses on the socio-political implications of Gal. 3.27. Although social memory has a malleable character, an embodied memory makes it more indelible or ‘persistent’ (: 128-30).
17.
: 140. For a brief introduction to the neuroscientific ‘machinery’ of emotions and feelings, see Damasio 2012: 115-38.
18.
19.
For the connection between emotions and ritual, see Whitehouse 2004: 70-74, 105-11; Jenkins 2008: 175; though Robert N. McCauley and E. Thomas Lawson advance a different theory based on cognitive science from Whitehouse (the Ritual Form Theory instead of the Modes Theory); for the interests of this study, they nonetheless agree with Whitehouse on the need to make rituals ‘emotionally provocative’ (2002: 103). For both a summary of and a series of important qualifications to both the Ritual Form Theory and the Modes Theory, as well as the relationship between emotions and memory, see Czachesz 2010; for further challenges in applying McCauley and Lawson’s theory, see (see also n. 2 above).
20.
21.
See also his discussion of how there are no purely ‘exterior’ or ‘interior’ perceptions, since the individual ‘conforms to the group’s conventions, which supply his [or her] thought’; that is, we are always perceiving ‘from the point of view of others’ (1992: 168-69). Assmann, however, tempers Halbwachs’s strong assertion that individuals in total isolation are incapable of memories (: 2-3).
22.
Cf. Jenkins 2008: 175-77; : 167-70.
23.
24.
This is in contrast to the doctrinal mode of religiosity that is triggered largely by one’s semantic memory (Whitehouse 2004: 63-85). For more information on the imagistic mode of religiosity, see Whitehouse 2004: 105-18. For a concept that is similar to Whitehouse’s ‘personal consequentiality’, see Czachesz’s concept of self-relatedness and how it can enhance the memory of a ritual for both the participants and the ritual agent (: 334).
26.
E.g., in the first and early second centuries, baptism was associated with a myriad of themes including forgiveness of sins (1 Cor. 6.11; Barn. 11.1, 11; Mandates 4.3.1), union with Christ (Rom. 6.11), one’s spiritual armor (Ignatius, Pol. 6.2), seal and means of salvation (Visions 3.3.5; Sim. 9.15.4; 4 Bar. 6.25), kinship (Gal. 3.27), group solidarity (1 Cor. 12.13; Eph. 4.4-5; Justin, 1 Apol. 65), association with authority (1 Cor. 1.13; Mt. 3.14; Ignatius, Smyrn. 8.2; Justin, 1 Apol. 61.9), and so on; also, see how Jensen structures her more recent study on baptism () by identifying five motifs derived from early Christian art and the NT (i.e., baptism as cleansing, incorporation, sanctifying, dying and rising, and the beginning of a new creation).
27.
29.
For instance, because Bell focuses on the intrinsic significance of the act of ritual, she is able to undermine the Western, contrived dualism between thought and action that inevitably – and uncritically – renders ritual as being ‘described as particularly a thoughtless action’ (2009b: 19; italics original). For a survey of how ritual theories have been applied to NT and early Christian studies, and how such usage is only in its embryonic phase, see DeMaris 2008: 1-10 and : 7-40.
30.
31.
33.
In addition to these first-century references, there are references to baptism closely associated to authoritative figures within the church in the early second century (e.g., Ignatius, Smyrn. 8.2; Justin, 1 Apol. 61.9).
34.
Malina’s study has been critiqued over recent years, especially with respect to his overemphasis on the notion of collectivism at the exclusion of any hint of individualism. The most recent and comprehensive work in this area can be found in Dunson, where he advocates ‘the interplay and integration … of the individual and community’ (2010: 88; emphasis mine). See also Dunson’s analysis on Epictetus’s notion of the individual in his fuller study (2012: 64-107) and Engberg-Pedersen’s interaction with Malina and Dale Martin (: 13-14).
37.
It would not have been unusual for a group leader to assert his or her authority in this direct fashion as we see in Ignatius (Trall. 13.2; Eph. 6.1). Even earlier and more widespread, some associations of the Graeco-Roman world expected members to obey leaders (e.g., AGRW 301, c. 43 : 62). Paul’s case might have been different due to his itinerant nature (e.g., AGRW 295, c. 69–58
38.
So MacDonald 1999: 239-44; Keightley 2005: 144; Jenkins 2008: 176-77; Uro 2016: 167-70. Horrell regards this as one of the dominant themes of Paul’s writings (: 109-45); baptism in particular is highlighted as being able to engender this solidarity (2016: 112-16).
39.
40.
The concepts of social cohesion and integration should not be confused with Durkheim’s solidarity thesis which sees ritual as merely a means for social control. For a brief summary of Durkheim’s viewpoint along with some of its weaknesses as highlighted by Stephen Lukes and Max Gluckman, see various discussions by Bell (2009b: 171-72; : 24-26).
41.
See also DeMaris 2013: 15-16. From a more theoretical perspective, see : 175.
42.
Similarly, Bell posits that the ‘basic logic’ of ritualization consists of two ‘systematic dimensions’, which are (1) to create vertical opposition that produces ‘hierarchical structures’, and (2) to create horizontal opposition that produces ‘lateral or relatively egalitarian relationships’ (2009b: 124-25); hence, rituals ‘are constantly differentiating and integrating … the field of social relations’ (2009b: 130). For the same conclusion concerning Paul, see Horrell 2016: 109-45 and Uro 2016: 163-70. In the context of Philippians, see Engberg-Pedersen’s perceptive observation: ‘On the one hand, he [Paul] appears to place himself on the same level as them [Paul’s hearers] … On the other hand, he also … adopts a far more authoritative tone which presupposes his sense of a clearly defined hierarchy’ (: 127).
43.
44.
An earlier version of this paper was presented at the 2016 Annual Meeting of the Society of Biblical Literature (‘Religious Experience in Antiquity’ unit). I would like to thank Ann Jervis, Colleen Shantz, Joshua Chang, Warren C. Campbell and Wolfgang Ernst for their helpful feedback. Above all, I would like to thank my wife, Jeanie L. Yuh, for her overall support.