Abstract
Sabbath has been considered by scholars to hold great importance in Jewish ethnic identity. However, there are varieties of Sabbath observance among the Jews. This article attempts to view these varieties under the concept of “the flexibility of myth” by Theodorus P. Van Baaren. In acknowledging the flexibility of Sabbath “myth,” this article endeavors to show that such flexibility fits perfectly with Paul’s “ethnic reasoning.” Paul utilizes the flexibility of Sabbath in his ethnic reasoning to maintain his ethnopolitical agenda and claim an authority within the Jewish community of Rome. The article will be divided into four parts. Firstly, the article discusses the flexibility of Sabbath-commandment. Then, it explores the variety of practices of Sabbath observance. Furthermore, the article presents two concepts that are intertwined in Paul’s rhetoric. First is the fluidity of ethnicity and ethnic. Second is the malleability of Paul. Finally, it analyzes Paul’s rhetoric of Sabbath in Romans.
Scholars have long considered Sabbath to hold great importance in Jewish ethnic identity, particularly proponents of the “New Perspectives,” like James Dunn (1990: 194), who maintained that “to be a Jew was to be a member of the covenant, was to observe circumcision, food laws, and Sabbath.” E.P. Sanders (1992: 236–37) also considered “Sabbath as a day of rest” to be an important aspect of what he thought of as “common Judaism,” along with worshipping God daily and weekly, circumcision, purity observations, and a peculiar diet, as well as the support of the temple. However, Robert Goldenberg (1979: 420) already acknowledges that there are varieties of Sabbath observance among the Jews. Now the question is how to explain such diversities. Should we see the diversities as transgressing the “normative” rule? If so, how can we decide which variation is normative? Or is there another explanation for such a phenomenon? This article considers these varieties under the Theodorus P. Van Baaren’s concept of “the flexibility of myth” (1984). In acknowledging the flexibility of the Sabbath “myth,” this article endeavors to show that such flexibility fits perfectly with Paul’s “ethnic reasoning.” Paul uses the flexibility of the Sabbath in his ethnic reasoning to maintain his ethnopolitical agenda and claim authority within the Jewish community of Rome. Therefore, I view Sabbath as one of Paul’s ethnopolitical devices.
To this end, the article has four parts. The first discusses the flexibility of the Sabbath commandment in the Decalogue in light of Van Baaren’s “Flexibility of Myth” concept. The second explores the variety of practices of Sabbath observance. In the third, it presents two intertwined concepts in Paul’s rhetoric: the fluidity of ethnicity and ethnic reasoning by Denise Buell and Johnson Hodge, and then the malleability of Paul by Cavan W. Concannon. In the fourth and final part, the article analyzes Paul’s rhetoric of Sabbath in Romans 14:5–6 considering the abovementioned concepts.
Theoretical Framework: The Flexibility of Sabbath-Commandment
Van Baaren (1984) argued that “myth, even if we define it as the supernatural charter on which a society is based, is not at all inflexible, except in theory” (p. 217). Such flexibility, for Van Baaren, is “not in the sense of degeneration or secularization when a certain myth is in the process of losing its function … but in the sense of its adaptability to new situations and challenges” (p. 218). Rather than viewing the phenomenon of adaptability as a gradual disappearance, the changes function as prevention of loss and maintenance of effort. Though most of the changes occurred as a result of outside influences, Van Baaren insisted that the leading cause of changes is to be found in the character of the myth itself since myths also change without outside influences. Hence, the specific character of myth, for Van Baaren, is flexibility or changeability itself (pp. 220–22).
Van Baaren further noted that the myth changes are easier to make in non-literate societies, as written traditions are more difficult to alter than oral traditions. However, he said that “in this situation the flexibility of myth is transferred to its exegesis” (p. 224). As one encounters the varieties of versions of the same oral myth and finds difficulties in pointing out which one is the original version, such a phenomenon can also be found in the variety of exegesis of the written traditions. Yet, one has to note that, in addition to the change that may occur in: (1) from an oral tradition to another oral tradition; and (2) written traditions to exegetical traditions, the change can also occur in the process of writing down the oral traditions or in rewriting any written texts (Van Der Toorn 2009). The so-called Biblical traditions are no exception to this phenomenon, hence the biblical scholarship trajectory of compositional history, source criticism, redaction criticism, and the rewritten Bible.
In light of Van Baaren’s concept of the flexibility of myth, in what follows, I look specifically at the Sabbath myth (commandment) in the Pentateuch. The Pentateuch preserves at least two versions of the Decalogue, one in Exodus 20 and the other in Deuteronomy 5. The significant difference between these two Decalogues is in the fourth commandment, the Sabbath commandment. In comparing the two passages, we note two significant differences: First, while Exodus uses the verb zkr (to remember) to begin the commandment, Deuteronomy uses the verb smr (to observe) from the outset. Second, Exodus bases the Sabbath commandment within the creation narrative, while Deuteronomy situates it within the framework of the deliverance from Egyptian bondage. The scholarship on this issue mostly discusses the dating and the origin of both texts, such as (1) the affinity to one of the Pentateuchal layers, (2) the reconstruction of the original form, (3) the originality of the composition, and (4) its Sitz im Leben (Kaiser 1984: 73). However, Martin Prudky (2006) takes a different tack by dealing with the “overall construction logic of the Sabbath-Proclamation, in its text-syntax and palistrophic structure” (p. 255). For Prudky, rather than looking at these differences as being “the result of two partially independent developments in tradition history,” this issue should be considered “two variant elaborations of a literary, textually defined entity.” In his other article, Prudky (2016) concludes that, “the halachic instruction is identical, even verbatim, in both versions; the hagadic part, the ‘preaching of the command,’ is variable, tailored to the specific contexts…” (p. 43). For Prudky, the variances of the Sabbath commandment preserved “in the manuscript sources, in translations from antiquity, and epigraphs, are testimony to the impact of the tradition which developed this requirement … and projected it into changing contexts” (p. 58). He calls this phenomenon “the dynamic character of Biblical traditions.” Or, in Van Baaren’s language, “the flexibility of myth.” I agree with Prudky in regard to how he speaks of how the variation of the Sabbath commandment is tailored and belongs to a specific context. In the next section, I discuss whether the flexibility of Sabbath also extends to its practices.
Beyond the Pentateuch tradition but still within the Hebrew Bible, there are other notions of the Sabbath. However, I restricted myself to discussing only the two versions of the Sabbath commandment due to space constraints. Yet, scholars like Herold Weiss (2003) argue for an eschatological aspect of the Sabbath. Such an argument supports this present article at least insofar as Van Baaren’s asserts that “eschatological myths simply form a special variation” (1984: 222). Thus, the flexibility of the Sabbath is apparent even from its variation within the Pentateuchal traditions. The author(s) of the Decalogues apparently feel free to adapt the Sabbath concept to fit the narrative that matches their specific context and purpose.
The Flexibility of Sabbath Practice
In this section, I explore the variety of Sabbath practices found in extra-biblical materials, particularly those that differ substantially from practices described in the biblical records. I do so in order to emphasize the variations in Sabbath observance. In dealing with the differences, I will not attempt to discern which is more authentic or legitimate, as it will be an almost impossible task (Van Baaren 1984: 224). Instead, I will consider the differences as all being part of the Jewish traditions and as representing the varieties of practice within the tradition—hence, the flexibility of myth in its exegetical tradition. Thus, it endeavors to note the flexibility of Sabbath observance within the Jewish community in antiquity.
Sexual Intercourse
A poet from Gadara named Meleager wrote a poem for a woman named Demo, in which he imagined himself displaced sexually by a Jew.
White-cheeked Demo, someone hath thee naked next to him and is taking delight in thee, but my own heart groans within me. If thy lover is some Sabbath-keeper, no great wonder! Love burns hot even on cold Sabbaths (McKay 2001: 91; Cf. Stern 1974: 93).
The phrase “cold Sabbaths” alludes to a practice of avoiding kindling a fire on the Sabbath, mentioned in the Hebrew Bible (Exod. 35:3). In his text, however, Meleager uses the fire imagery to imply intense sexual intercourse on Sabbath between Demo and the Sabbath-keeper (cf. McKay 2001: 91). The Book of Jubilee forbids such intercourse to be conducted on the Sabbath, noting that:
the man that does any work on it shall die: whoever desecrates [Sabbath] day, whoever lies with (his) wife … shall die (Jubilee 50:8).
In the light of Jubilee, we might conclude that Demo’s Sabbath-keeper lover is desecrating the Sabbath because he is having sex on the Sabbath. However, Babylonian Talmud have a more lenient perspective, as follows:
And that one should eat garlic Shabbat eve. This is due to the fact that garlic enhances sexual potency, and Friday night is an appropriate time for conjugal relations. As it is written concerning the righteous: “And he shall be like a tree planted by streams of water, who brings forth his fruit in his season” (Psalms 1:3); and Rabbi Yehuda says, and some say it was Rav Nah.man, and some say it was Rav Kahana, and some say it was Rabbi Yoh.anan who said: This is referring to one who engages in sexual intercourse every Shabbat eve (b. Bava Kamma 82a; Cf. b. Ketubot 62b).
This Talmud not only permits but also encourages a sexual relationship on “every” Sabbath’s eve, even with the support of a Bible verse. Thus, the variety of Sabbath practices is based on the exegesis of a biblical tradition. Again, such a variety reflects the flexibility of the concept of the Sabbath, the flexibility of myth within its exegetical tradition.
Sabbath Fasting
Another kind of Sabbath practice at which we should look is Sabbath fasting. Here, I discuss this practice at length given the numerous attestations to it in Greco-Roman writings and Jewish traditions, yet many scholars doubt the veracity and accuracy of those descriptions of this practice. Among the Greco-Roman authors who record such a practice are Martial (1993: 4.4), Suetonius (1914: 76.2), and Pompeius Trogus (Justinus 1902). In Pompeius’ record particularly, he wrote that what underlies the practice (at least in so far as he observed it) is Moses’ consecration of the Sabbath as a fast day. This differs from the biblical tradition and is another instance of the flexibility of myth.
Some Jewish sources, such as Talmud, contradict the Sabbath fasting practice. One of them is as follows:
As it is taught in a baraita: These days that are written in Megillat Ta’anit are days on which fasting is prohibited, as are both the day before them and the day after them. With regard to Shabbatot and Festivals, fasting on them is forbidden, but on the day before them and the day after them fasting is permitted (B. Rosh Hashanah, 19a).
Other Talmud references will also contradict Sabbath as a fast day because, like b. Shabbath 118b and 119a encouraged special feasting that requires a specific type of food on Sabbath. The Book of Jubilee also recorded a prohibition of fasting on the Sabbath—and threatened an even more severe consequence: death.
And every man who does any work thereon, or goes a journey, or tills (his) farm, whether in his house or any other place, and whoever lights a fire, or rides on any beast, or travels by ship on the sea, and whoever strikes or kills anything, or slaughters a beast or a bird, or whoever catches an animal or a bird or a fish, or whoever fasts or makes war on the Sabbaths: The man who does any of these things on the Sabbath shall die, so that the children of Israel shall observe the Sabbaths according to the commandments regarding the Sabbaths of the land, as it is written in the tablets, which He gave into my hands that I should write out for thee the laws of the seasons, and the seasons according to the division of their days (Jubilee 50:12–13).
It is interesting to note that the reason why the person who conducted such practices must die is for the people of Israel to observe the Sabbaths “according to the commandments … as it is written in the tablets, which He (Yahweh) gave into” Moses’ hands. Yet, as we have observed in the earlier section, there is no mention of such an extended prohibition in both versions of the Sabbath commandment in the Decalogue—hence the flexibility of myth within its rewriting tradition.
Nevertheless, Josephus recorded a notion of Sabbath fasting in his writing against Apion. Josephus described a widespread desire among the Greeks and barbarians to observe Jewish tradition:
The masses have long shown a keen desire to adopt our religious observances; and there is not one city, Greek or barbarian, nor a single nation, to which our custom of abstaining from work on the seventh day has not spread, and where the fasts and the lighting of lamps and many of our prohibitions in the matter of food are not observed (2.282–283).
Here, Josephus connected abstaining from work, fasting, lighting lamps, and food restrictions, all under the umbrella of Sabbath observance. Again, we see the concept of flexibility of myth in Sabbath observance.
Some scholars have argued that the Roman’s mention of Jews engaging in Sabbath fasting was simply a misunderstanding (Schiffman and Vanderkam 2000: 805). Menahem Stern (1974) argued that the allusions to Sabbath fasting were derived from “a mistake long-established in the pagan literary tradition” (p. 521). Goldenberg (1979) asserted that such a mistake arose from the Jews’ refusal to light fires and cook on the Sabbath. David Noy (1998) added that it is because Jews are not willing to dine with non-Jews on the Sabbath. At the same time, Feldman (1993) insisted that the Roman authors were mistaken to see Sabbath as a fast day because Jews abstained from work.
More recently, however, Williams (2004) is not satisfied with interpreting the Sabbath-fasting occurrences as a mistake. She suggests that “The Roman writers are demonstrably well-informed about Jewish practices, [and] apparently believed that the Sabbath was a day of fasting. That belief finds expression in several different types of writing (informal correspondence, ethnography, satirical poetry)” (p. 16). Williams invites one to wonder about such a phenomenon instead of simply dismissing it as being the result of wrong inferences or errors. She feels a need to address a feature of tradition that captured so much attention of the Jewish community’s Gentile neighbors. Williams believes that the Roman Jewish community considers other factors to be at work, factors other than merely the biblical tradition. She writes that Roman Jews, “mainly comprised of prisoners of war, [were] brought to Rome as slaves after Pompey’s conquest of Judaea in 63 BCE and Sosius’ recapture of Jerusalem from the Parthians in 37 BCE” (p. 16). Both in 63 and 37 BCE, it was on the Sabbath that Jerusalem fell to the Romans, and that its defenders were taken into captivity because they refused to wage war on that day. While some reject this interpretation, suggesting it to be merely the reworking of a literary topos, Williams does not doubt its veracity. The Book of Maccabees recorded a similar narrative about abstaining from warfare on the Sabbath (1 Maccabees 2:29–37). That said, Williams is confident that his interpretation is not unreasonable.
In that light, the Sabbath, at that time understood to be a practice for the Jewish community of Rome, is associated with pain and sorrow. Hence the Jewish community’s decision to turn the Sabbath, the mournful “foundation day,” into a day of fasting (Williams 2004: 17). Jodie Magness (2011) agrees with Williams’s idea, but she suggests that such a practice occurred elsewhere, too, and not only in Rome. Williams further asserted that “by fasting on the Sabbath, the Jews of ancient Rome were not infringing any scriptural injunction but interpreting the Word of God in an entirely legitimate way” (p. 17). Thus, we once again see the flexibility of the Sabbath myth in the exegetical tradition.
Other Sabbath Practices
In this section, I put together several other practices of Sabbath observance that are, again, different from the biblical tradition. First, the role of wine in Sabbath observance. Plutarch (1969) recorded the significant role of wine among the Jews in Sabbath observance. Though one does not find this practice in the biblical tradition, one does in the Talmud. For instance, Pesachim 106a, in interpreting Exod. 20:8, stated that the phrase “‘Remember the day’ implies that it should be remembered over wine when the Sabbath sets in.” It is another instance of the flexibility of myth in the exegetical tradition.
The second practice is the lighting of the Sabbath lamp. We already saw that Josephus referred to this practice in his writing. The writing of one Roman philosopher, Seneca the Younger, also attests to such a practice. He wrote, “Precepts are commonly given as to how the gods should be worshipped. But let us forbid lamps to be lighted on the Sabbath since the gods do not need light” (Stern 1974: 188). Again, this practice does not appear in the biblical tradition; indeed, even kindling a fire is forbidden on Sabbath (Exod. 35:3)—though one could argue that the act of lighting the Sabbath lamp occurs just before the beginning of the Sabbath.
The third practice is dancing and clapping. Shaye J.D. Cohen (2012) discusses these practices, as found in the writing of what he considers to be Pseudo-Ignatius. Though this text’s dating is somewhat later (ca. the second half of the fourth century), I think it is still worth mentioning. Pseudo-Ignatius recorded rejoicing in the dancing and clapping of Syrian Jews during the Sabbath (p. 4). However, Cohen suggests that it is contradicted by the Mishnah (Beitzah 5:2). Yet he is unsure whether the Syrian Jews are tied or subjected to the rabbinical tradition. That said, there is a possibility that such practices are Syrian Jews’ interpretation of rejoicing of the Sabbath. But afterward, Cohen points out a Talmud that wrote something interesting about the Jews of Babylonia, as follows:
Rava bar Rav H.anin said to Abaye: We learned in a mishna: The Rabbis decreed that one may not clap, nor strike a hand on his thigh, nor dance on a Festival, lest he come to repair musical instruments. But nowadays we see that women do so, and yet we do not say anything to them (b. Beitzah 30a) (in Stern 2012: p. 13).
Hence, though the rabbis did not approve of the dancing and clapping practices, they could not prevent such practices from happening. Again, we see the flexibility of Sabbath practice, despite the almost certain prohibition of such practices by the rabbinical authority.
Sabbath, Empire, and Economy
This section discusses two communities of Jews who had to compromise with their Sabbath observance due to administrative policy or economic matters. The first is Jews in Edfu, and the second is the Jews in Elephantine. Willy Clarysse et al. (2010) conducted a study about the taxes collected from the Jews of Edfu during the period of Vespasian’s to Trajan. This study is based on a few hundred ostraca that recorded taxation receipts. According to this study, the Jews of Edfu did pay (general) taxes on the Sabbath. Though Philo and Josephus recorded the Roman Empire being lenient to the Jews in several instances—such as collecting their quota of grain, military service, and court appearance—such leniency did not apply to general taxation. On the other hand, the study recorded that when it came to Jewish tax (fiscus judaicus), it is most likely that the Jews avoided paying such a tax. It could happen as the tax is likely to be collected by members of the Jewish community. However, it was not the case for general taxes. Hence, the study concludes, “it was not always possible to observe the Sabbath strictly when confronted with the governmental power of the Roman Empire” (p. 56). Therefore, flexibility was needed for Sabbath observance. Thus, the flexibility of the Sabbath.
The second case occurred relatively early, namely in the Persian Period. However, I feel a need to discuss it due to the Sabbath’s adaptability toward the changes in the situation. In an ostracon written by a woman named Islah, we find this statement:
Behold, I will send vegetables tomorrow. Meet the boat tomorrow on Sabbath, so that they will not get lost. By the life of Yaho, if not, (then) I will take your life. Do not rely on Meshullemeth or Shemaiah. Now, send me barley in return. Now, by the life of Yaho, if not, (then) you will be responsible for the account (TADAE D.7.10.).
This ostracon indicates that some economic trade in foodstuffs existed on Sabbath. Bob Becking (2011) suggests that the statement in the letter was perhaps prompted by an emergency, that it “might have been a cry from the bottom of a crisis” (p. 124). Yet, Becking also notices that there is no language of apology in the ostracon that might indicate—at least for some Yehudites—that they are significantly concerned by trade on a Sabbath.
Becking also highlights the military duties expected of the Yehudites on behalf of the Persian army. For Becking, the implication is that the Yehudites “were supposed to be on duty all days of the week” (p. 124). No inscriptions give evidence of any conflict resulting from a Yehudite refusing to be on duty all week long. Becking argues that this is not “proof of the absence of the Sabbath, but only an indication that the Yehudites had a liberal stand towards the demand of the powers that were” (p. 125). So here again we see—and by extension presumably could anticipate—other flexibilities in Sabbath observance that might emerge in response to a situational change, whether the result of governmental power or economic struggle.
The Ambiguity of the Beginning of the Sabbath
The beginning of the Sabbath also had its share of indecision regarding practices, as we see from Lutz Doering’s 2017 study. While it is widely accepted that the Sabbath is reckoned from evening to evening, Doering highlights the ambiguity of the term “evening.” By analyzing the use of the term “evening” from the phrase “between two evenings” in the Book of Jubilee, he finds that the term can mean “the last third of the day(light)” and the “first third of the night.” While some rabbinic texts attempt to distinguish between the time for Sabbath preparation and the beginning of Sabbath rest proper, Doering asserts that “the precise transition to the Sabbath remains a problem for the practitioner, and it is not sufficiently clarified in the early rabbinic (Tannaitic) period” (pp. 215, 220).
Doering then discusses the role of the Sabbath meal in resolving or flattening the ambiguity about time. This practice differs from the Sabbath-fasting practice that I presented earlier. Doering writes:
Before it became customary to pray in the synagogue at the onset and close of the Sabbath, Jews spent both the beginning and the end of the sabbath days at dinner. These meals provided a framework for [a] Sabbath-conforming demeanor from before and until after the Sabbath and participating in them absolved Jews from the need to determine the precise transition from one day to the other. Importantly, the rituals referring to the distinction between sacred and profane time (Sabbath and non-Sabbath) were integrated into the grace after meals (pp. 223–24).
Hence, in this practice we find the flexibility of practice that deals not with outside influence or situational changes but rather with the ambiguity of the myth itself, as Van Baaren (1984) noted regarding the character of the myth itself.
So, what does all this mean? Allow me to summarize what I have proposed so far. First, I discussed the concept of the flexibility of myth. In itself, myth is flexible, adaptable, and changeable, depending on the situational change. Such flexibility is not to make the myth disappear. Instead, it is to maintain it. While it is easier to adapt the myth within the oral tradition, the flexibility of myth in the written tradition is manifested in the exegetical tradition. Hence, the myth is still flexible despite the permanent appearance of the text. Second, I have shown the flexibility of the Sabbath myth, beginning with its commanding tradition in the Decalogue, its flexibility of practice based on various situational changes, and the invention of practice in dealing with the ambiguity of the Sabbath myth itself. Therefore, when one says that Sabbath is one of the Jewish ethnic identity markers, one must deal with its flexibility. In the next part of the article, I discuss how the flexibility of the Sabbath contributes to Paul’s ethnic reasoning. Here, Gerbern S. Oegema’s 2016 work is helpful.
After discussing several texts that can be recognized as coming from certain identified groups (Hasmonean, Sadducees, Pharisees, Essenes, and People of Jubilees), Oegema concludes in his study that “identity marker is more than simply a mark on someone or something that automatically ‘makes’ him or her Jewish. Instead, it is a complex phenomenon with different and often changing connotations that are crystalized in texts” (p. 117). He adds that while the texts refer to certain aspects of the identity marker, at the same time, they serve as the multiple facets of continuing socio-religio-political settings. Oegema claims this has to do with “how these texts and the authors and audiences behind them have negotiated their identity” (p. 117). He finally notes that the “various and different interpretations and practices also marked important differences between certain groups within Judaism” (p. 118). Oegema hints at how the “flexibility of myth” contributes to identity construction, not only between the Jewish and non-Jewish but within the Jewish tradition itself. In the following parts of the article, I discuss this how the flexibility of the Sabbath functions as one of Paul’s ethnopolitical devices of identity construction.
The Fluidity of Ethnicity
Denise Kimber Buell (2005) discusses the concept of race and ethnicity in the Greco-Roman era. Buell suggests that “instead of viewing race or ethnicity as ascribed or fixed … we view each as concepts to which fixity is attributed but that are nevertheless malleable” (p. 6). Buell draws from Ann Stoler (1997), who said that “the force of racial discourse is precisely in the double-vision it allows, in the fact that it combines notions of fixity and fluidity in ways that are basic to its dynamic” (p. 198). The concepts of race and ethnicity are always unstable as they are not characterized continuously in a similar course in all specific situations. Yet, Buell writes, “considerable energy and anxiety have been expended to ‘secure’ stable meanings for race [or] ethnicity in colonial and racist regimes” (p. 7).
Buell discusses that the flexibility of such concepts has been apparent even since antiquity. Quoting Irad Malkin (2011), Buell shows a range of conventions from which the concept of Greek ethnicity can be drawn. Some scholars draw from Herodotus’ five-fold criteria of Greekness, that is: “common purpose (avenging the burning temples by Persians, kinship (having the same blood, homaimon), shared language (homoglosson), shared sanctuaries of the gods and sacrifices … and similar ways of life or customs” (pp. 5-6). However, other texts regarded the territory and climate as more significant elements in defining an ethnicity (Antonaccio 2001). The climatic zones are considered to determine specific human characteristics, such as temperament and skin color, and some authors insisted that the world is divided by such climatic zones (Thomas 2011).
Furthermore, Buell explains how the same complex issue happened in the Roman imperial period. Ptolemy of Alexandria, for instance, suggested that the physical and social (ethical) characteristics of a specific group are based on the climate but also the influence of astral bodies. However, Polemo, a physiognomist in the second-century C.E., finds difficulties in determining who belongs to what race when he finds Syrians in Italy and Libyans in Thrace, if only by hair and skin color. Egyptian ethnicity is also difficult to determine, at least in the eyes of Emperor Caracalla. His edict, according to Buell, “reveals a tension between the presuppositions that Egyptianness ought to be marked on the body in obvious ways (occupation, dress, manners, and religious practice) and the acknowledgment that it is not necessarily so” (p. 39). For instance, one can find linen weavers as Egyptians, yet one must listen to their speech. However, even this may not pan out in practice. Ultimately, the emperor referred to the Egyptians as “those who flee the countryside where they belong to avoid farmwork,” though even this is obviously a stereotype rather than an absolute indication.
Because of this complexity, Buell refers to the fact that most sociologists, anthropologists, and now also many classicists and ancient historians dismiss the thought that there is any key substance to ethnicity. Instead, they view ethnicity as a contingent social construction. Hence, scholarly discussions move “away from the question of whether or not race/ethnicity is fixed or mutable to analyses of how discourses of race and ethnicity rely upon the notion of fixity and primordiality even while they are also always under negotiation and flux” (p. 7). Thus, Buell suggests seriously considering the flexibility or fluidity of ethnicity.
Out of these two discourses of the fixity and fluidity of ethnicity, Buell suggests understanding “some forms of the early Christian imagination and practice as ‘ethnic reasoning’” (p. x). Ethnic reasoning, he says, refers to “the modes of persuasion that may or may not include the use of a specific vocabulary of peoplehood” (p. 2). This reasoning allows the early Christians to validate its various views as the universal and most genuine while simultaneously offering a self-definition both in relation to “outsiders” and competing with other “insiders” for superiority. Buell notes four strategic uses of ethnic reasoning for Early Christians:
First, race/ethnicity was often deemed to be produced and indicated by religious practice… Second, although the ancient authors frequently refer to membership … as a matter of one’s birth and descent (that is, as fixed or ascribed), such membership was nonetheless seen to be mutable… Third, this juxtaposition of fluidity and fixity enabled early Christians to use ethnic reasoning to make universalizing claims, arguing that everyone can, and thus ought to, become a Christian… Finally, early Christians also used ethnic reasoning polemically, especially to compete with one another (pp. 2–3).
Hence, ethnic reasoning includes a notion of religious practice and its membership that is intertwined with a notion of fixity of birth and descent. Yet, this concept is juxtaposed with its claim of fluidity that allows other people to join its membership while simultaneously establishing superiority in relation to its competitors.
In her other work, co-authored with Johnson Hodge (2004), Buell points out that Paul uses this very strategy in his rhetoric. Paul’s usage of this reasoning functions “to solve the problem of the exclusion of gentiles from God’s promises to Israel” (p. 238). Such a strategy is suitable for Paul as “it offers a model of unity and connection among peoples while still maintaining differences” (p. 238). Paul’s use of ethnic reasoning is as follows. First, “Paul formulates his central theological problem in terms of ethnicity: gentile alienation from the God of Israel” (p. 245). They then make a clear distinction between Judeans and non-Judeans based on their “ethnicity,” which is kinship with Abraham. But then, Paul offers a way out that is also within the kinship and ethnicity terminology, hence ethnic reasoning. As Buell and Hodge contend: “On the one hand, the differences between gentiles and Judeans seem fixed, having some real content; on the other hand, it is also fluid—through Christ, the gentiles receive a new ancestry and a new identity” (p. 245). Paul did not argue that ethnicity is fixed and that Christ has broken or “fulfilled” it. Instead, he illustrates how Christ can bring about ethnic transformation. Now this kind of argument clearly requires his audience to understand ethnicity and kinship as something fluid, despite his seemingly fixed contrasting differentiation between Judean and gentile.
However, Buell and Hodge carefully assert that this ethnic reasoning does not signal a neutral ethnicity; rather, it is a Judean identity. For Paul, being a gentile in Christ means entering the broader kinship of Israel. To conclude, they assert that Paul’s rhetoric emphasizes “the fluidity and messiness of ethnoracial categories” (p. 251).
The Malleability of Paul
In this section, I present Cavan W. Concannon’s concept of the malleability of Paul (2014). Not surprisingly, Concannon also benefits from Buell’s concept of ethnic reasoning, as indeed he lays out in his introduction. Yet, he advances the discussion by analyzing the malleable body of Paul in Paul’s own political rhetoric.
Concannon discusses this issue through Philo’s writing on political life and polymorphic self. He observes that “Philo suggests that the political life was one that necessitated a polymorphic self, an ability to be many things for the sake of safeguarding one’s political community” (p. 27). For Philo, a good politician is one who functions as both a leader and a polymorphous mirror image of the political system, as the political system itself “is many-colored and multiform.” Concannon further argues that by claiming that he trains his body so that he can “become all things to all people” (1 Cor 9:22), “Paul similarly presents himself as an ethnically polymorphous politician” (p. 27). Thus, Paul’s trained body was able to become a Judean who is “outside the law,” a gentile who is “under the curse of the law,” and to become weak. For Concannon, Paul ultimately “lifts up his ethnically malleable body as an object deserving of praise (1 Cor 9:19–23)” (p. 29).
This strategy of Paul’s is not unique. Concannon brings to our attention an orator named Favorinus, who employed a similar strategy. Concannon writes:
Favorinus present himself as an ethnic mimic, who, though a roman equestrian from Gaul, not only seems but actually is Greek. Favorinus’ ethnically polymorphous body is made to parallel the Corinthians themselves, who are cast as Romans that have “hellenized.” Favorinus’ self-construction emphasizes education (paideia) and ethnic mimicry as attributes that should be praised by his Corinthians audience and acts as a defense of Favorinus himself as an arbiter of “true” Hellenism (p. 28).
Hence, much like Paul, Favorinus “deployed his own ethnically malleable self before an audience of Corinthians” (p. 28).
Concannon further notes that the flexibility that Paul developed was in regard not to only to his ‘other’ ethnicity, but also to with his own, his Judeanness. When Paul says he “became as” a Judean, he construes his Judeanness as malleable. He never gave up his identity as a Judean, yet he “reconfigured that identity in light of his voluntary enslavement to the law of Christ” (pp. 28–29). Note that Paul first insists that his body can be reconfigured in relation to any ethnicity, even Judean ethnicity. Yet, his polymorphic body has a stable core “in the law of Christ.”
Ultimately, by portraying his body as ethnically malleable, Paul invites his addressees to recognize that their bodies also have a potency of malleability, whether it is as a Judean or a gentile. Says Concannon,
Paul’s ethnically flexible body is presented to the Corinthians as a model of ascetic self-control and the selfless exercise of a divine calling; Paul claims to be both a slave of a powerful master who subjects his body to a painful workout for the sake of others and a free man with authority who renounces it for the benefit of all. Paul’s self-presentation thus serves as a site for what Castelli calls “body power,” wherein the body becomes a site where competing discourses coalesce around the articulation of identity” (p. 35).
In sum, Concannon recognizes that Paul argues for the fluidity of ethnicity by presenting his own body as ethnically malleable.
The Flexibility of Sabbath as Another Ethnopolitical Device of Paul’s in Romans
Helpful to our investigation is also Gay Byron (2002), who coined the term “ethnopolitical rhetorics.” Byron explains that ethnopolitical rhetorics “are discursive elements within texts that refer to ‘ethnic ‘identities or geographical locations and function as political invective. [And] ethnicity is the chief constituent component of any ethnopolitical rhetorics” (p. 2). Byron understands the concept of ethnicity similarly to Buell and Concannon—namely, that it is not a “given” but a “social construct that draws attention to the differences that exist within communities” (p. 2). She emphasizes that ethnopolitical rhetorics function in differentiating between “insiders” (hence, a self-definition) and “outsiders” (an ethnic-othering attitude).
I see the concept of “ethnic reasoning” functions well to “resolve” the “invectiveness” that Byron suggests in the ethnopolitical rhetorics. By this, I mean that ethnic reasoning attempts to embrace the difference, yet of course doing so for a particular political purpose. Paul cleverly (or perhaps even cunningly?) used both strategies in his writing, as Buell and Byron point out in their respective work. Here I introduce another term that I call “ethnopolitical devices.” I understand “ethnopolitical devices” as the “ethnic” elements that are being used both in the “ethnopolitical rhetorics” with their divisive nature and in “ethnic reasoning” with its unifying nature. Ethnopolitical devices exist both under the notion of ethnicity as a social construct in boundary-making and under the notion of the flexibility of such ethnicity. Thus, when I refer to something as an ethnopolitical device, I emphasize its notion of being considered fixed yet having the potency of becoming flexible or even, by nature, being flexible. For instance, when Buell discusses how Paul is differentiating the ancestry of Judeans and Gentiles but at the same time is insisting that through Christ the Gentile can share in the Judean ancestry, I understand ancestry as one of Paul’s ethnopolitical devices. I also understand Paul’s own body as his ethnopolitical device when Concannon points out his ethnically malleable body. In light of this concept, I recognize how Paul employed one of his ethnopolitical devices in Romans 14:5–6, namely, the Sabbath.
Paul wrote:
Some judge one day to be better than another, while others judge all days to be alike. Let all be fully convinced in their own minds. Those who observe the day, observe it in honor of the Lord. Also, those who eat, eat in honor of the Lord, since they give thanks to God; while those who abstain, abstain in honor of the Lord and give thanks to God (Romans 14:5–6, NRSV)
In interpreting to what specific “day” and “days” Paul is referring in this passage, scholars have various suggestions. Some argue that it is an early development of Sunday as a day of worship. Others argue that it is about particularly auspicious days in the Greco-Roman astrological calendar. However, the majority of scholars understand him to be referring to the Jewish Sabbath and/or Jewish festivals, while the rest think he is referring to fast days. James Dunn (1988) persuasively argues that Sabbath was a sensitive issue within Judaism at this time. He points out that already in Josephus’ writing, “eating unclean food and violating the sabbath ranked together as the two chief hallmarks of covenant loyalty” (p. 805).
Dunn concludes by saying:
The most obvious reference for v. 5 is to a concern on the part of some Jewish Christians and others who had been proselytes or God-worshippers lest they abandon a practice of feast days and Sabbath commanded by scripture and sanctified by tradition, a central concern lest they lose something of fundamental importance within their Jewish heritage, something close to the heart of the distinctiveness of the whole Jewish (and now Jewish-Christian) tradition and identity” (p. 806).
Regarding the food debate, scholars mostly interpret this to be referring to the Kosher laws, given how significant such laws are for Jewish identity, as mentioned in Josephus. I, however, would like to propose a different reading by considering the study of Margaret Williams (2004) that I discussed above. Williams proposes a possibility for the Roman Jews to observe the Sabbath through the practice of fasting. The text supports this reading in several ways:
First, the counsel parts of the food debate (vv. 3, 6) only mention the two groups as “those who eat” (ho esthiōn) and “those who not eat” (ho mē esthiōn). Without any specific reference to what is being eaten, it is possible to read the counsel as referring to those who do not eat anything at all, hence fasting. Even more, throughout the passage Paul is more concerned with the act of eating rather than what is being eaten.
Second, the presence of wine in v. 21. I have discussed above the significance of wine for certain groups of Jews in observing the Sabbath. The juxtaposition of meat and wine can also be seen as a Jewish feast, and again, as I have shown, in some parts of the Talmud (among others, b. Shabbath 118b and 119a), Jews view the Sabbath as the day of gladness and thus as the occasion to hold a special feast. Yet Paul encourages those who hold this kind of observance that it is better not to feast than to cause your “weak” brother to stumble (v. 21).
Third, throughout the food debate in this passage, the discussion about days appears only in two verses (vv. 5, 6), and there it is connected to the food debate. The counsel about the observance of the days is tied to the counsel about eating and not eating. Thus, it is not unreasonable to consider both elements (days and eating/not eating) as an integral part of the practice of fasting in observing the Sabbath, rather than as separate parts (observance of Sabbath and Kosher laws). If this reading is correct, we can now see the Sabbath as another of Paul’s ethnopolitical devices.
In Romans 14:5–6, Paul presents two kinds of Sabbath observances: fasting on the Sabbath (ho mē esthiōn) and non-fasting or even Sabbath feast (ho esthiōn). This indicates the flexibility of the Sabbath that I discussed in the first part of the article. Paul, however, then employed ethnic reasoning when he mentioned:
those who observe the day, observe it kyriō (to/for the Lord)
ho phronōn tēn hēmeran kyriō phronei
those who eat, eat kyriō (to/for the Lord)
ho esthiōn kyriō esthiei
those who abstain, abstain kyriō (to/for the Lord)
ho mē esthiōn kyriō ouk esthiei
Instead of using the formula en khristō (in Christ), here Paul uses the term kyriō (to/for the Lord). Through such reasoning, Paul points out the legitimation of the flexibility of Sabbath observance, whether it is by fasting or special feast, as long as it is offered kyriō (to/for the Lord), Paul’s “stable core” (Concannon 2014: 35). In this reasoning, one can see the interplay of the three-fold concept of the flexibility of Sabbath, the fluidity of ethnicity, and Paul’s malleability. While Paul was aware of the Sabbath’s significance among the Jewish community, he was also aware of the various practices and interpretations of the Sabbath. Similarly, while Paul was aware of the significance of ethnic identity, his ethnic reasoning shows us how he played around with the fluidity of ethnicity. In short, as he embraced both parties through his ethnic reasoning, we can now clearly see his strategy of “being all things to all people.” Hence, his malleable body.
One might ask: “What motivates Paul to employ this strategy?” Here, Rudolf Brandle’s and Ekkehard W. Stegemann’s (1988) study is useful. They suggest that “we must ask the question of how the ‘Christ-faith’ happened to come to Rome at all. Paul certainly did not bring it there…Romans, however, also presupposes that Paul and his missionary endeavors in Rome were not unknown. There are indications in Romans 3:8 that certain negative opinions of Paul were well known” (p. 127). Hence, Paul’s letter to the Romans can be seen as an apologetic or an attempt to exercise his authority over the Christ-believers in Rome. To do that, he had to gain as many “votes” as possible, or to win over as many minds as he could. The kind of reasoning that enabled him to embrace as many people as possible under his authority is ethnic reasoning.
Conclusion
This study explored how Sabbath become another of Paul’s ethnopolitical devices. The flexibility of the Sabbath fits well with Paul’s ethnic reasoning in relation to the fluidity of ethnicity and Paul’s ethnically malleable body. Paul embraced the two conflicted Sabbath observances in Rome—fasting and non-fasting or special feast—by subsuming them to the formula of kyriō (to/for the Lord). Paul was aware of the Sabbath’s importance as a Jewish ethnic identity marker, yet he was also aware of the various interpretations of the Sabbath observance. Through this ethnic reasoning, Paul attempted to exercise his authority over the Jewish Christ-believers in Rome.
Footnotes
Acknowledgement
Special thanks to Fernando Segovia and Ekaputra Tupamahu for their valuable comments in the earlier versions of this article. An earlier version is presented at the Political Biblical Criticism unit on 2019 Society of Biblical Literature International Meeting in Rome, Italy. I am grateful for the helpful comments and suggestions given during the session. Any shortcomings that may remain, however, are my sole responsibility.