2. Surveying Interpretations

Some commentaries are most interested in pointing out that Paul is speaking prophetically here and that the verse therefore cannot be given theological and general significance. Gordon D. Fee says, ‘But this is neither parenesis nor warning; it is an ad hoc reflection on their own situation. Most likely Paul is here stepping into the prophetic role; by the Spirit he has seen a divine cause and effect between two otherwise independent realities: the present illness of many…and the actions of some at the Table of the Lord’.Footnote ¹ This may well be the case, but it contributes little to understanding the connection which Paul claims between sickness and misconduct at the Lord’s table. It makes sense to distinguish between four kinds of interpretations. The first three, albeit somewhat different in shape, are all opposed to a spiritual or metaphorical understanding. The types of interpretation that are sufficiently characteristic to be distinguished as follows:

1. 1) Paul quite concretely sees illness and even death among the Corinthians as a result of a non-sharing community. The absence of hospitality and failure to reach out to the have-nots have consequences for their health. The sick Corinthians are suffering from malnutrition.Footnote ² This interpretation takes rather seriously the social emphasis in this text. It is about a non-sharing society in which hunger exists (ὃς μὲν πεινᾷ in v. 21 and εἴ τις πεινᾷ in v. 34), and this situation finds no alleviation in the way the Eucharist is celebrated among them. ‘Discerning the body’ (v. 29), therefore, implies caring for the physical needs of fellow believers. This interpretation takes v. 21 as a social description and not merely rhetorical exaggeration. Moreover, it depends on a reading in which those who hunger are the same in both v. 21 and v. 34 and that v. 34 is a final admonition to welcome the have-nots into the home in which the congregation gathers.Footnote ³ Anthony Thiselton has a similar interpretation, arguing that the ill health and death implied in v. 30 are due to drunkenness (ὃς δὲ μεθύει in v. 21).Footnote ⁴ In other words, excess in gluttony and wine came then, as it does even today, with dire consequences for health and survival. The main difference between Sandnes’ and Thiselton’s interpretations is that while Sandnes connects weak health and death to the have-nots, Thiselton’s interpretation assigns them to the haves. Quite recently, David J. Downs has argued in ways which combine these two: ‘…the bodies of both *have-nots* and those who shame them suffer…the former from dietary deprivation and the latter from overconsumption’.Footnote ⁵

1. 2. Dale B. Martin has argued that v. 30 is to be understood in light of the ancient topos of disharmony fostering disease.Footnote ⁶ Paul portrays the consumed body of Christ in analogy to both healing and a poisoning pharmakon that brings disease and even death to those who unworthily partake in it. Thus, the ingested body of Christ becomes hostile, working as a demonic disrupting agent. This interpretation takes seriously that disruption is a key notion here.Footnote ⁷ Furthermore, the demons lurking in the background of the table in 1 Cor 10.19–21 may add to this interpretation.Footnote ⁸ Nonetheless, Martin’s interpretation is somewhat unclear about the relationship between the background of disruption and demonic agents.

2. 3. Social anthropology has drawn attention to the role of holiness and sacredness in ancient religiosity, bringing to mind Rudolph Otto’s classical study of holiness,Footnote ⁹ in which he coined the phrase mysterium tremendum et fascinosum. Holiness comes with a dual face, as also witnessed in biblical traditions (Exod 19.10–25; Acts 5.1–16). The selfish behaviour of the Corinthians not only polluted the sacred meal but also released the destructive powers of the holy.Footnote ¹⁰ This view has found recent support in ritual theory, according to which failure in ritual practice involved risks, as illustrated by, for example, Achan’s failure according to Joshua 7.Footnote ¹¹ Holiness and ritual seems to me of minor importance compared to Paul’s social concerns in 1 Cor 11.Footnote ¹²

1. 4. In his commentary, Anthony Thiselton holds that Sebastian Schneider is ‘almost alone’ in reading the three key words (ἀσθενεῖς, ἄρρωστοι, κοιμῶνται) metaphorically, conveying a cumulative description which reaches its climax in spiritual death.Footnote ¹³ Thiselton’s judgment no longer applies, as Ilaria L. E. Ramelli has given Schneider’s view her strong support.Footnote ¹⁴ She argues that a spiritual interpretation accords with how most ancient interpreters saw the text and that it fits naturally into a common Hellenistic trope on the philosopher as offering a cure for those who are metaphorically ‘sick’.Footnote ¹⁵ There is linguistic evidence for such a use of sickness in New Testament texts and even in Paul. In the light of these observations, it is, according to Ramelli, ‘probable that in 1 Cor 11.30 Paul is constructing a climax from weakness to illness and death of the soul’.Footnote ¹⁶

There are strengths and weaknesses in all these suggestions. The aim of what I lay out below is to present a hitherto unnoticed view. It proceeds from observations not accounted for by the interpretations outlined above.

3. Divine Judgment Has Begun

The primary concern for Paul is related to social issues among the Corinthians and the celebration of the Eucharist in particular. Selfish excess leading to the neglect of sharing and waiting for one another is implied (vv. 20–1, 34), and this brings shame on the have-nots; it is tantamount to contempt for the church of God, which is also the body (σῶμα) of Christ (v. 29).Footnote ¹⁷ Karl Olav Sandnes has argued that this passage belongs within the ‘belly rhetoric’ found in 1 Cor, associated primarily with passages like 6.12–20; 10.1–13 and 15.32.Footnote ¹⁸ According to ancient moral-philosophical anatomy, gluttony and excess come from the belly and the organs below it, paving the way for selfishness.Footnote ¹⁹ Philippians 3.17–18 and Rom 16.18 encapsulate this view in talking about belly devotion. In the passage in question, Paul addresses behaviour associated with gluttony among his converts. The failure to share food is gluttony, according to Musonius Rufus, and is discussed together with issues of excessive eating (Fragm. 18b/116.32–118.8; Cora E. Lutz).Footnote ²⁰ This is the moral-philosophical rhetoric advanced to put things right at the Lord’s table. Historically, Paul may well be exaggerating here, but his argument is rooted in traditional moral-philosophical topoi.

This rhetoric is prepared for in 1 Cor 10.1–13, which is permeated by scriptural passages about the desire for food, the yearning of Israel for meat in Egypt. The minds of the desert generation were on eating and drinking, and hence they forgot about God. Two passages in 1 Cor (10.14–22 and 11.17–34) pick up on this, and in the latter, there is an accumulation of judgment terms: οἱ δόκιμοι (v. 19), ἔνοχος (v. 27), δοκιμαζέτω (v. 28), and κρίμα and cognates, which appear throughout vv. 29–32. Paul interprets the Corinthian situation at the Lord’s table in light of gluttony, and living thusly comes under divine judgment. The disruption and lack of fellowship which their celebration manifests, confirms and maintains fall under divine judgment, just as it did in the desert. The Exodus or desert analogy in 1 Cor 10 is worth noting, since the Exodus traditions of the plagues appear to be a primary scriptural basis for identifying the principle of reciprocity between misconduct and judgment or punishment (see below). This judgment has already begun and is visibly present in what v. 30 is talking about. It is only a matter of perceiving the diagnosis correctly. The general and didactic v. 27 (still in the modus of an ‘if’) becomes specific and present in v. 30.

4. The Vocabulary of Verse 30

Although linguistics alone is not decisive for understanding what v. 30 is really about, it is still necessary to delve into it. Linguistic observations, not least in Philo, play an important role in Ramelli’s contribution: ‘The death mentioned in 1 Cor 11.30, at the end and culmination of the climax involving also weakness and sickness, is the death of the soul of which Paul speaks in Romans.’Footnote ²¹ She argues that ἀσθενής and cognates must be taken in a spiritual sense, as they are in 1 Cor 8.7, 10–12 and 9.22. The precise meaning is articulated in Rom 4.19 and 14.1, where the modifier τῇ πίστει is added, and in Rom 5.6, where this vocabulary is synonymous with sinner. There is no reason to quibble over these observations. Nonetheless, I find that this terminology, as found in 2 Cor 12.7–10, for example, demonstrates that ἀσθενής is not that unambiguous. Paul praying that the ‘thorn in the flesh’ be removed from him finds a divine response in v. 9: ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness (ἐν ἀσθενείᾳ)’. Hence, he boasts of his weakness. This noun cannot be taken in a spiritual sense here as referring to Paul’s poor relationship with the Divine; some kind of sickness or bodily ailment is identified.Footnote ²² In any case, this is not to be taken in a spiritual sense.

Ramelli pays little attention to ἄρρωστοι, even though, as used by Philo, it has the potential to support her opinion. The New Testament evidence outside the passage in question is unequivocal: it refers to bodily sickness, whether physical or psychological, in need of healing (Mark 6.5, 13; 16.18; Matt 14.14).Footnote ²³ It is not about spiritual sickness. Philo, however, uses ἀρρωστία or ἀρρώστημα and offers a more nuanced picture. Most Philo references to this vocabulary have a spiritual meaning, and he attests Ramelli’s remark about the topos of philosophy as a remedy for sickness. According to Spec. 4.100, gluttony is the source and first sign of sickness in both body and soul, thus bringing to mind Paul’s belly rhetoric in our passage.Footnote ²⁴ However, there is a caveat. Philo is well aware that his use of the term is an extension of its physical meaning (Cher. 68; Det. 43; Mos. 1.133) and explicitly states that he transfers the bodily meaning of the term into a spiritual one (Sobr. 45; Her. 284).Footnote ²⁵ Hence, it is a distinctive feature in his use of this terminology to add a modifier which gives the spiritual sense.Footnote ²⁶ Throughout these references, he adds ψυχή and cognates. This conscious use of a modifier implies that Philo is primarily a witness to the physical reference when the adjective appears without a modifier, as is the case in 1 Cor 11.30 (cf. Sir 7.35).

Philo may again be called upon with regard to κοιμᾶσθαι. Most references in Philo are about sleep in the physical and concrete sense, as in most cases in, for example, De Somniis and De Josepho; this is unsurprising, given the role assigned to dreams in these writings.Footnote ²⁷ There is no Pauline text in which κοιμᾶσθαι is used to articulate spiritual death, although the idea of a spiritual death was current in the relevant literature. From a methodological point of view, it is probably wise to distinguish the idea or motif of spiritual death from Paul’s use of this particular vocabulary. The Pauline evidence in all instances is unmistakably about physical death (1 Cor 7.39; 15.6, 18, 20, 51; cf. 1 Thess 4.13–15). ‘Sleep of mind or soul’ can only be inferred from Philo, for example, and this is what Schneider and Ramelli do. However, in most cases where a spiritual sense is implied in Philo, there is either a modifier or the overall context making this explicit (Leg. 2.27; Plant. 177; Somn. 2.160).

5. Medical Vocabulary

Having noticed this, we turn to the ancient medical literature, which despite its vastness has been neglected in this regard,Footnote ²⁸ to see what light may be shed on the linguistics here. I concentrate on Galen of Pergamon (129–216/217 CE) and the tradition found in Hippocrates’ Epidemics. Ancient medical sources are especially relevant for understanding ἀσθενής and ἄρρωστος. Neither of these adjectives nor their cognates identify precise diagnoses, but this literature proves that they are at home in ancient discourses on the body. Of the two, ἀσθενής is the more general, while ἄρρωστος has a more precise medical definition (see below).Footnote ²⁹ That the two appear next to each other also situates ἀσθενής firmly in these discourses.

Galen offers a definition of ‘weakness’ in his Method of Medicine (MM) 11.20/805K.Footnote ³⁰ In this definition, the two adjectives are used more or less synonymously. The context is examining how baths may affect patients with fever.Footnote ³¹ On the whole, fever is often connected to these terms. Galen’s definition proceeds from the notion of krasis (κρᾶσις), the blending or mixture of the basic elemental qualities: fire, water, air, and earth or bile, phlegm, blood, and heat or cold. Normality is given as eukrasia, while dyskrasia refers to abnormality where lack of mixing is a major source of disease: weakness is either dyskratic by nature, or a person has become so because of some earlier disease (νόσος). This definition places both terms at the centre of ancient medical theory.Footnote ³²

A consequence of dyskrasia may be weak digestion (ἀρρωστῇ πέττειν; MM 2.5/108K), shivering or rigour (MM 10.4/681K)Footnote ³³ or fainting (MM 12.3/826K). In MM 10.1/665K, Galen discusses strategies in the treatment of fever. The patient’s strength or weakness (ὅταν ἄρρωστος οὖσα) is to be considered. It is worth noting that ἄρρωστος is contrasted here with the verb ῥώνυμι from which it is derived, with a negating ἀ added.Footnote ³⁴ This is interesting since this verb was quite common as a greeting (ἔρρωσθε) with which letters were closed (2 Macc 11.21, 33; 3 Macc 7.9; Josephus’ Life 227, 365; Acts 15.29). This greeting is sometimes rendered ‘farewell,’ which neglects the physical connotations inherent in this term, as in 2 Macc 11.38, in which the letter is closed with ὑγιαίνετε. This brings out what ἔρρωσθε, used twice in the same chapter, really means. The physical reference of this verb is overwhelming when considered against the backdrop of medical texts. It is about staying healthy, which in Galen’s theory means eukrasia or gaining a position which makes it possible to start treatment (MM 12.2/814K–5K).

Galen’s texts are considerably later than Paul, but this should not distract us from their relevance for understanding 1 Cor 11.30. Galen places himself in the Hippocratic tradition and himself comments on Hippocrates’ Epidemics. Some passages from this work can serve to demonstrate a thriving medical tradition in which the two adjectives used by Paul are at home. Cognates of these adjectives are found in passages addressing clear, visible, and physical signs of illness, such as fever, vomiting, lack of appetite, thirst, shivering, trembling and loss of memory. Some of the conditions involved are dramatic and lead to eventual death. Eupolemus’ pains are described in detail. His condition developed ‘until he became weak’ (ἔχων ἕως ἀσθενὴς ἐγενέτο), implying that in this case weakness represents a heightened stage – and thus sickness – in the development of his condition. He died (ἔθανεν) after a few days from ἀσθενείης τοῦ σώματος (Epidemics 5.7/208).Footnote ³⁵ Weakness (ἀσθένεια) leading to death is a recurrent motif (Epidemics 5.18/218; 5.31/229), although recovery may also occur due to treatment (7.93/450–1). In this last passage, it is worth noting that the bodily condition with many signs is said to represent the beginning of illness (ἀπὸ δὲ τῆς ἀρχῆς τοῦ ἀρρωστήματος). In that case, illness is a proper rendering. In all these passages, weakness is synonymous with illness, as spelled out in 5.31 (τὸ νόσημα).Footnote ³⁶ Eventual death also applies to ἀρρωστία; in Epidemics 7.52/421–2 an infant finds himself in this condition and passes away.

In short, a linguistic analysis is not as clear-cut as Ramelli’s spiritual interpretation claims. Taken in isolation, linguistics indeed suggests otherwise.Footnote ³⁷ This observation can now be fleshed out by looking into the reciprocal nature of the punishment that appears in v. 30. The reciprocity or mutuality at work here favours a physical or bodily interpretation of that verse.

6. Reciprocity between Misbehaviour and Judgment or Punishment

The particular contribution of this paper is that the reciprocal nature of punishment found in Rom 1.24–8 sheds light on 1 Cor 11.30. This has been noticed for Rom 1,Footnote ³⁸ but to my knowledge, a similar background for understanding 1 Cor 11.30 has not been suggested. In Romans 1, this is most clearly seen in vv. 26–7, where misbehaviour (v. 26) finds a reciprocal punishment in v. 27. This reciprocity is even spelled out in the phrase τὴν ἀντιμισθίαν ἣν ἔδει τῆς πλάνης αὐτῶν ἐν ἑαυτοῖς ἀπολαμβάνοντες. The noun ἀντιμισθία denotes ‘a transaction as requital based upon what one deserves, recompense, exchange, either positive sense or the negative sense penalty, depending on context’ (BDAG). Paul also uses this noun in 2 Cor 6.11–13, urging them to open their hearts, which are now restricted, so that they may reciprocate the open heart of Paul. Romans 1.28 articulates reciprocity even in the terms used and their misbehaviour is described thusly: οὐκ ἐδοκίμασαν τὸν θεὸν ἔχειν ἐν ἐπιγνώσει. Divine punishment reciprocates their sin: παρέδωκεν αὐτοὺς ὁ θεὸς εἰς ἀδόκιμον νοῦν.Footnote ³⁹ The relationship between misconduct and punishment is obvious and sheds light on 1 Cor 11.17–34, where both δοκιμάζειν (v. 28) and the question of being δόκιμος (v. 19) are found.

The idea of a reciprocal punishment is widely attested in the relevant literature. God’s punishment is meted out in accordance with the transgression. This principle is stated in, for example, Jub 4.31–2 where it says that Cain’s house fell upon him, and

This principle is applied in practice to divine judgment in Wisdom of Solomon, 2 Maccabees, the Testament of the Twelve Patriarchs and Philo’s In Flaccum, and is warranted by e.g. Jer 30.11 (‘I will make an end of all nations among which I scattered you, but of you I will not make an end. I will chastise you in just measure, and I will by no means leave you unpunished’).Footnote ⁴⁰ Wisdom of Solomon 11 develops this principle from the Exodus story and states so explicitly: ‘so that they might learn that one is punished (κολάζεται) by the very things by which one sins’ (16). This compliance or balance between sin and punishment comes clearly through in the preceding verse: foolish and wicked thoughts leading to worship of irrational (ἄλογα) animals are punished by God sending ‘a multitude of irrational creatures (ἀλόγων ζᾠων) to punish them’ (Wis 11.15 cf. 12.23). The subtext is, of course, the plagues mentioned in Exod 8.20–32 and 10.4–15.Footnote ⁴¹ The reciprocal relationship is also implied in the preposition ἀντἱ, which indicates equivalence (BDAG). Likewise, in Wis 11.6–7a, a river with blood is regarded as ἀντἱ with the infanticide narrated (Exod 7.17–21). It is worth noting that in these texts the punishments come as physical consequences, as told in the Hebrew Bible. This applies also to Wis 18.4, which comments on Exod 10.21–3: ‘For their enemies deserved to be deprived of light and imprisoned in darkness, those who held your children imprisoned, through whom the imperishable light of the law was given to the world’. The captivity of Israel (sin) and the captivity of darkness (darkness) form a reciprocal relationship. Without the narrative backdrop in Exodus, however, a metaphorical punishment in terms of Gentile darkness – that is, without the light of the law – might be resonating in this text.

Second Maccabees 5 describes the downfall of Jason, who found his demise in Egypt. He who had driven many from their country suffered death in his own exile.Footnote ⁴² He who had deprived many of a burial, casting them to lie unburied, he was not given a funeral, no mourning and no place among his ancestors (vv. 9–10). Here is an intended juxtaposition between misconduct and judgment. This compliance is also found in 2 Macc 9.4–10.Footnote ⁴³ Heaven punished Antiochus πάνυ δικαίως – very justly – by inflicting bodily pains and troubles on him. He who had tortured the bowels of others was himself seized with pain in his bowels. The phrase πάνυ δικαίως also appears in 2 Macc 13.7 in precisely such a case: Menelaos met his death in ashes because he committed sins against the holy ashes in the temple. Thus, πάνυ δικαίως encapsulates the reciprocal relationship involved here. This is voiced in 2 Macc 9.4 using another motif; divine judgment ‘rode with him’ (ἐξ οὐρανοῦ δὴ κρίσεως συνούσης αὐτῷ), implying that the sin carried in its bosom its reciprocal judgment, so to say.Footnote ⁴⁴

The principle of reciprocity is also affirmed in the Testament of the Twelve Patriarchs: ‘For God brought on me a disease of the liver…For by whatever human capacity anyone transgresses (παρανομεῖ), by that he is also chastised (κολάζεται). Since my anger was merciless (τἁ ἥπατά μου ἀνηλεῶς) in opposition to Joseph, through this anger of mine I suffered mercilessly (τῷ ἥπατι πάσχων ἀνηλεῶς)’ (T.Gad 5.9–11; cf. T. Sim. 2.11–12).Footnote ⁴⁵ The liver is the seat of hatred or anger (T.Naph. 2.8–9 cf. T.Rub. 3.4). In this literature, this principle is rooted in a moral-philosophical discourse to which Paul also owes his belly rhetoric. Each of the twelve testaments displays ethical ideals or misconduct to the descendants, echoing Greek moral-philosophical traditions. These topics are given in the titles. The Testament of Gad has the superscription ΠΕΡΙ ΜΙΣΟΥΣ (On Hatred). Conduct or ways of living must be within the limits set by this anatomy and not exceed them. According to T.Rub 3.3, ‘the spirit of insatiability resides in the stomach’ (ἐν τῇ γαστρί). Greed and belly form a tandem, as they do in Paul’s sub-textual terrain in 1 Cor 10–11.

T.Zeb. 5 nicely illustrates my point. The title of this testament is ΠΕΡΙ ΕΥΣΠΛΑΓΧΝΙΑΣ ΚΑΙ ΕΛΕΟΥΣ (On Compassion and Mercy). Zebulon tells his children that he showed mercy (ἔλεος) to his neighbours and compassion (εὐσπλαγχνία) for both people and animals. Hence, ‘when all my brothers were ill (ἀσθενοῦντων), I alone passed without sickness (ἄνοτος)’. This biographical piece of information paves the way for the principle that God acts in accordance with the deeds of people: ‘For the sons of my brothers were sickly (ἠσθένουν) and died (ἀπέθνῃσκον) on account of Joseph, because they did not act in mercy out of their inner compassion (οὐκ ἐποίησαν ἔλεος ἐν σπλάγνοις αὐτων). But you my sons, were preserved from illness’ (ἄνοσοι διεφυλάχθησαν). From this, a principle or lesson is drawn, ‘whatever anyone does to his neighbour, the Lord will do to him’ (3).Footnote ⁴⁶ This is a theological habitat in which Paul’s 1 Cor 11.30 is also at home.

Philo’s In Flaccum, on the Roman governor’s misdeeds against the Jews in Alexandria, takes a turn from 108, where his arrest and eventually exile are told. Soldiers seized him while at a symposium (115). Philo phrases this as both necessary (ἔδει) and just (τὴν δίκην; cf. 146 and the role of πάνυ δικαίως in 2 Macc), referring to how his sins were reciprocated: ‘a hospitable hearth (ἑστίας) should be the scene where justice first fell on one who had destroyed numberless hearths and homes (ἀνεστίους οἵκους) of persons that had done no wrong’.Footnote ⁴⁷ The scene of the arrest is a reminder of the nature of the sins committed by the governor. The relationship between Flaccus’ sins and the unfolding of his punishment is carefully articulated in accordance with the principle we are working with here. This is shown in Flacc. 148–53, where the loss of his property, inherited as well as acquired, is told in a way mirroring his lavish life and eventually his being exiled to the remote island of Andros. The sentence brought upon him a journey which was in all aspects, even the geographic, a reversal of the travels he had undertaken when he was appointed governor of Egypt.

Once on the island, Flaccus himself becomes, in Philo’s words, a sinner confessing the principle of reciprocity (170–4). He considers himself proof (πίστις) that God acts in this way (171). The passage is packed with reciprocal relationships between sin and punishment. He who treated the Jews as foreigners when they were citizens with rights now finds himself in exile without any rights. He who marched some of them into theatres to be maltreated (αἰκίζεσθαι) before the eyes of the public was now justly maltreated (αἰκισθείς) ‘in his miserable soul rather than in body’ (173).Footnote ⁴⁸ Furthermore, he was led into a theatre, publicly paraded through Italy, Achaia, and the Peloponnese to Andros. All of this happened to him, according to Flaccus himself, to reach the sum of or to counterbalance (πρὸς ἐκπλήρωσιν ἀντίρροπον) all he had done (174). Philo’s use of this noun and cognates elsewhere often takes the form of a weight in which balance is sought (Sacr. 122; Virt. 186; Mos. 2.228; Spec. 4.167). That is to say, this word equals ἀντιμισθία in Paul’s Rom 1. The weight seeking balance brings out Flaccus’ fate. When Philo turns theological at the end of this treatise, he formulates a lesson (189–91): ‘For it was the will of justice (τῆς δίκης) which she wrought on his single body (σώματι) should be as numerous (ἰσαρίθμους) as the number of the Jews who he unlawfully put to death.’ The bodily aspect of his punishment is thus emphasised. The end of the story is that the blood of the Jews was compensated in his being assassinated and thrown into a ditch flooded with his own blood. In this way, his fate was to Philo ‘an indubitable proof’ (ἀψευδεστάτη πίστις) of how God acted in favour of the Jews, picking up on 189 (see above) but also providing an analogy to 1 Cor 11.31–2 on the sickness as divine paideia (see below).

7. Reciprocity in 1 Cor 11.30?

Is it possible to identify in this passage a reciprocity somewhat similar to what we have described above? Are there any signs that Paul here reasons like himself in Rom 1? That particular chapter is, of course, a necessary point of departure since it demonstrates Paul’s familiarity with the topos and even his own use of it. Paul is indebted there to a logic where what is inflicted on the body is reciprocal to the offence. Furthermore, Paul seems in 1 Cor 5.5 to reason likewise: ‘you are to hand this man over (παραδοῦναι) to Satan for the destruction of the flesh, so that the spirit may be saved in the day of the Lord’. This Greek verb is used here in ways similar to Rom 1.24, 26, 28, and both the punishment and the sin committed are bodily (πορνεία). As in 1 Cor 11.30, it is also a matter of righteous κρίμα (see κέκρικα in 1 Cor 5.3). It is worth noting that 1 Cor 5.5b speaks of this not in eschatological terms but as a means to finally bring about salvation, and is hence very much in line with 1 Cor 11.32 (κρινόμενοι δὲ ὑπὸ [τοῦ] κυρίου παιδευόμεθα, ἵνα μὴ σὺν τῷ κόσμῳ κατακριθῶμεν; see below). With these observations in mind, we turn to 1 Cor 11.30.

We have noted that v. 30 is surrounded by verses about κρίμα, judgment, and also that the sentence is introduced by διὰ τοῦτο, which supposes a link between misconduct and the punishment meted out. Romans 1 is more explicit on this point, as there we find ἀντιμισθία. No such signal is given in our passage, but διὰ τοῦτο is not to be ignored since it works analogously to ἀντί and ‘justice’, which appear frequently in our investigation. Furthermore, while Philo pronounced the divine reciprocity with ἔδει, Paul has a similar δεῖ in 1 Cor 11.19 connected directly to the question of being δόκιμος.

We also notice that there is an intended link between the adjective ἀδόκιμος and Paul urging them to self-examination: δοκιμαζέτω. This implies that οὐκ ἐδοκίμασαν from Rom 1.28 is what Paul holds against his converts in Corinth. They have failed to make genuine tests of themselves and ‘the body’.

In addition to this failure, the sin of the Corinthians takes two other forms that are intimately connected. Their misconduct is social, failing to share and/or wait for the have-nots, a misbehaviour which is seen as unworthy (ἀναξίως) and which also makes them ἔνοχος ἔσται τοῦ σώματος καὶ τοῦ αἵματος τοῦ κυρίου (27). As demonstrated by Otfried Hofius, this is not a reference to eschatological judgment, but to ‘juridische Terminologie!’Footnote ⁴⁹ Thus, these two failures are, in fact, one failure subsumed in the word σῶμα (29), which is intentionally polyvalent here, as it refers to both Christ’s physical death, the idea of fellowship as a body (cf. 1 Cor 12.12, 27) and also the body of the participants.

The central motif of διακρίνων (v. 29) is a separation that leads to recognising what is different. It is about making a distinction or differentiation.Footnote ⁵⁰ Paul urges them to do this with τὸ σῶμα. Some scholars consider this only a matter of simplification; that is, body and blood are intended, as in v. 27.Footnote ⁵¹ Many mss add τοῦ κυρίου (+͐Ιησοῦ), which may be viewed as strengthening that assumption, though it is not entirely compelling. This addition appears to be driven by the sacramental use of the text. Paul’s concern in this text is primarily about the fellowship,Footnote ⁵² and the interpretation of ‘body’ is to be guided by that. What light may the perspective of the present study shed on διακρίνων τὸ σῶμα? It should be noted that σῶμα in vv. 24 and 27 obviously has physical connotations. Elsewhere in this epistle, σῶμα always refers to the physical body, with the only ‘exceptions’ being in 10.16–17 and chap. 12, where the Corinthian church is considered the body of Christ (and in 12.27 explicitly so). Even in chap. 12, this notion is described in terms of a physical body (12.1, 14–22). The present study suggests that scholars have too easily declared 10.16–17 and chap. 12 to be exceptions in the form of metaphor, analogy or even simple comparison with the physical body. This brings us to 1 Cor 12.12, where Paul introduces a comparison (καθάπερ) that takes the physical body as the place of departure but then brings the point home by saying οὕτως καὶ ὁ Χριστός. We would expect Paul to say οὕτως καὶ ἡ ἐκκλησία, but what Paul does here goes beyond a comparison or analogy. In 1 Cor 11.30, the emphasis on physical implication follows immediately upon the issue of ‘recognising the body’. If reciprocity in punishment is involved here, that implies that the Corinthian fellowship is considered not merely a metaphor. Rather, it is Christ present among them, analogously with the tradition voiced in, for example, Mark 9.37; Matt 10.40; 18.5; 25.40; and Luke 10.16.

There is something puzzling in v. 31, because σῶμα is replaced by ἑαυτοὺς: oneself or one’s own body. The verb remains the same. Dale B. Martin argues that v. 31 means ‘giving proper attention to one’s own body so as to keep it from judgment of disease and possibly even death’.Footnote ⁵³ This likely captures what is going on here. Taken together, vv. 29–31 together urge paying attention to the fellowship, which is Christ present, and is tantamount to caring for the health of one’s own body. This formulates the dependency of fellowship and bodily health that is at the centre of these verses.

The Lord’s table or the meal itself commemorates the death of Jesus. Hence, the passion narrative is hinted at in v. 23. The broken bread is Christ’s body given for them (24), and the wine symbolises his blood (25). It is all celebrated in a continuous celebration of his death: ὁσάκις γὰρ ἐὰν ἐσθίητε τὸν ἄρτον τοῦτον καὶ τὸ ποτήριον πίνητε, τὸν θάνατον τοῦ κυρίου καταγγέλλετε ἄχρι οὗ ἔλθῃ (26). Paul holds against the Corinthians that they celebrate Christ’s altruistic death in a way which paves the way for a selfishness that amounts to ‘serving their belly’.Footnote ⁵⁴ In other words, the core of their failure is to misjudge and shame the death of Christ.

What then are the repercussions of what the sufferings in v. 30 are about? Are they physical or spiritual? We notice that the diagnosis in v. 30 is all about the human body, which is not to be overlooked, since the misconduct of the Corinthians applies to σῶμα in ecclesiological, individual and also Christological ways. This is suggestive of a reciprocal relationship. Furthermore, in all the examples presented above, divine punishment is concrete or physical; bodily effects are quite prominent. Not a single example among these texts uses the topos of exchange for misconduct with spiritual consequences, although Flacc. 173 is an exception that proves the rule (cf. Wis 18.4 if taken in isolation from its context; see above).Footnote ⁵⁵ The topos is closely attached to divine judgment as physical demonstration. If wrongdoings find a spiritual punishment, they escape visibility, which seems to be indispensable for how this topos works. This adds powerful support to the linguistic argument presented above.

The words in 1 Cor 11.30 are about physical weaknesses and death among the Corinthians. Schneider says that ἐν ὑμῖν (v.30) speaks against a physical interpretation since this phrase implies presence, and the dead are of course no longer present. Hence, they cannot be ἐν ὑμῖν. Ramelli mentions this without any critical questions.Footnote ⁵⁶ This argument does not account for how slippery prepositions are in Greek; here, it simply means ‘among you’ in the sense of ‘some of you’. Furthermore, ἐν ὑμῖν stands at the beginning of the sentence with relevance for the weak, the sick and the dead. It is only to the last group that Schneider’s argument applies.

We noted above that Wis 11 is an important text with regard to reciprocity between offence and divine punishment. That text is also important because it demonstrates a difference in how this logic applies to Israel and its enemies, respectively. This finds an analogy in 1 Cor 11.32, where Paul speaks about ‘we’ versus ‘the world’. The context for stating the principle of reciprocity in Wis 11 is crucial for understanding how the punishment works vis-à-vis Israel. The punishment meted out was not as severe as it could have been. God did not ‘lack the means to send upon them a multitude of bears or lions or newly created beasts full of rage…But you have arranged all things by measure and number and weight’ (Wis 11.17–20). In the midst of punishment, God’s mercy (ἐλεεῖς) is visible in the way castigation is meted out, ‘so that they may repent’ (εἰς μετάνοιαν; v. 23). According to Wis 12.8–10, God’s judgment on the Canaanites took place little by little, thus giving them opportunities to repent (κρίνων δὲ κατὰ βραχὺ ἐδίδους τόπον μετανοίας; v. 10). Paul is familiar with this notion (Rom 2.2–4). Likewise, T. Rub. 1.6–7 conveys that reciprocal punishment may serve repentance. Ruben relates that he defiled his father’s marriage bed when a youth. Hence, he was struck with a wound in his loins for seven months, clearly a reciprocal relationship. But his father prayed for him, and God therefore did not destroy him. Without using παιδεία, this corresponds in content to how Paul reasons in our passage. The punishment serves, according to vv. 31–2, the purpose of self-examination.

These passages are certainly not alone in conveying judgment as a means of salvation, in fact, an act of grace (Lam 3.31–3; Tob 13.5; Wis 12.21–2; 16.5–6). These texts revolve around divine grace limiting or meting out the punishment. Most illuminating is 2 Macc 6.12–16 where this idea is developed theologically as a topic of grace towards Israel, and which sheds light on their history: ‘Now I urge those who read this book not to be depressed by such calamities but to recognise that these punishments were designed not to destroy (μὴ πρὸς ὄλεθρον) but to discipline (πρὸς παιδείαν) our people’. This is a sign of divine εὐεργεσία. God ‘never withdraws his mercy (τὸν ἔλεον) from us. Although he disciplines us with calamities, he does not forsake his own people’. With this perspective, the story of the martyrs is then unfolded. Thus, divine discipline was aimed at averting final judgment. A metaphorical or spiritual understanding of the ‘weaknesses’ in v. 30 hardly works vis-à-vis Paul’s conclusive words about discipline as protection against being condemned alongside the world.Footnote ⁵⁷

The clear distinction between judgment or punishment and condemnation in 11.32 finds an analogy in 1 Cor 3, where Paul distinguishes between ‘suffer loss’ (ζημιωθήσεται; v. 15) and ‘God destroying’ (φθερεῖ; v. 17), and the need for testing is also emphasised here (δοκιμάσει; 1 Cor 3.13). Again, we find that God’s final condemnation parallels the sin: εἴ τις τὸν ναὸν τοῦ θεοῦ φθείρει, φθερεῖ τοῦτον ὁ θεός. This reciprocity is negotiated in 3.15, since there it is about finding salvation at the end (αὐτὸς δὲ σωθήσεται; 3.15). Paul’s careful distinction between punishment and condemnation, which finds a place for divine discipline, sheds light on 11.32. This distinction echoes the texts where God metes out punishment. When reciprocity between misconduct and judgment appears as paideia, the balance between the two is disturbed due to divine grace. But this also raises a troubling question for my interpretation. If the diagnosis in 11.30 aims at punishment – which differs from condemnation – how can this apply to those who are dead? Implied in the paideia argument is that punishment in some way is limited, whether in time or mode. In other words, discipline paves the way for warnings and possible change. Does this also apply to those who have already passed away? This question is probably raised by a more individualistically oriented approach than Paul’s. His primary perspective seems not to be on individuals but on the situation in the fellowship as a whole.

Paul Duff has recently argued that Paul’s emphasis on his infirmity in 2 Cor (see 12.7–10 in particular) is his response to how (some) Corinthians reacted to his dictum in 1 Cor 11.30.Footnote ⁵⁸ This caused anger and fuelled the fire of the situation witnessed in 2 Cor 10–13. Now they claim that Paul’s sickness is to be interpreted likewise: if sickness among the Corinthians is a sign of divine punishment, so also with Paul himself! Duff’s view is a likely scenario viewed historically, but can hardly be used to oppose the argument presented here. Duff – rightly in my mind – speaks of the ‘unintended consequences’ of 1 Cor 11.30; in fact, his interpretation presupposes a bodily interpretation of this text. This is the only way that 1 Cor 11.30 might have some relevance for how to understand the backdrop of 2 Cor 12 and Paul’s body.

8. Summary

We have addressed the enigmatic 1 Cor 11.30, in which some kind of connection between misbehaviour at the Lord’s table and divine punishment is assumed. The key to unlocking this verse is the reciprocal nature of the punishment; it parallels the sin committed. This notion of reciprocity is widely attested in relevant contemporary sources and is used by Paul in Rom 1 and 1 Cor 3 and 5. This kind of reciprocity suggests that the weakness, sickness and death mentioned in v. 30 are not metaphors. Within the notion of reciprocity, physicality is usually involved. In most cases, reciprocal judgment refers to God’s final judgment, but Paul turns this into punishment with the aim of bringing salvation at the end. Thus, the paideia perspective mentioned in 11.32 changes the idea of reciprocal judgment into punishment, voiced explicitly in the distinction between judgment and condemnation. This is, however, not without analogies in relevant Jewish literature, as Wis 11 in particular makes clear. A metaphorical interpretation of v. 30 fails to do justice to the distinction in v. 32; it is hard to see spiritual poverty as a means of divine punishment.