Two Problems and Their Solution
In this article I aim to address two questions that might initially appear independent, but are really connected. One is about twentieth century thought, the other is about Paul. Seneca will act as a mediator between the two.
There is first the general, broadly philosophical question of what, if anything, distinguishes gift-giving from lending, at least in the premodern societies often studied by anthropologists, in which gift-giving is a fundamental element of society. As is well known, there is a venerable tradition in twentieth century French thought—from Marcel Mauss via Lévi-Strauss to Bourdieu and Derrida—that has put this question at the center of some fascinating thinking.Footnote 1 It is not clear, however, that the underlying problem of whether there is such a thing as a true gift has been solved. Indeed, in the way gift-giving is addressed by the two most recent thinkers of the four, it looks as if a true gift is an impossibility.
Bourdieu and Derrida set up the problem in the following way. On the one hand, a gift is by definition an entirely non-self-interested act; it is gratuitous and completely devoid of egoistic calculation. On the other hand, gift-giving (at least in premodern societies) involves a whole system of expectations and obligations, at the basis of which lies precisely that which was denied by speaking of the gift as a gift: self-interest and egoistic calculation. How can this apparent self-contradiction be removed?
Well, it cannot and that is precisely the point. Thus Derrida, not surprisingly, celebrates the impossibility of the gift.Footnote 2 Bourdieu, at one level, accepts this challenge.Footnote 3 But then he proceeds to provide an account of the way gift-giving actually works in premodern societies that relocates gift-giving from the level of individual intentions to that of socially inculcated dispositions—Bourdieu's famous habitus Footnote 4—and relegates the apparent antinomy to a level of collective repression and self-deception.Footnote 5 At the level of individual intentions, by contrast, the problem of gift-giving cannot be solved. There, for Bourdieu too, a wholly gratuitous gift is impossible.Footnote 6
With regard to the arguments I have just outlined, I will argue that both Derrida and Bourdieu start from a false presupposition, which has its roots in Kant:Footnote 7 the idea that for an act to be truly other-regarding and altruistic—and a gift is necessarily that—it must not involve any self-regarding concern whatsoever. In Kant that idea is famously expressed in the claim that a moral act must be done exclusively from duty and not from inclination. That idea, I think, underlies the modern insistence on the complete gratuitousness of a gift. But both the Kantian idea itself and its modern transference to gift-giving are false. Ancient ethical theory, here instantiated by Seneca, shows that true other-regard (acting for another person for his or her sake) does not necessarily exclude some form of self-regarding concern. And ancient philosophical reflection on gift-giving, as we will see, allows for a strong element of inclination in gift-giving, while at the same time insisting (as do the moderns) that a gift be done for the sake of the receiver and—in contradistinction from a loan—without any thought of being paid back.
The other question I shall address is that of the meaning and function of Paul's use of the term χάριϛ, “grace/gift.” This issue has been extensively and repeatedly discussed in modern scholarship.Footnote 8 But it has come to the fore more recently in connection with the work of the French anthropologists and philosophers just mentioned. Thus at the Annual Meeting of the Society of Biblical Literature in 2003 (Atlanta), it was possible to hear a fine paper by John M. G. Barclay on “Gift and the Circle of Charis in Pauline Theology” that explicitly connected gift-giving to the thought of Derrida and Bourdieu.Footnote 9 Moreover, in his equally fine response, Dale B. Martin explicitly raised the fundamental issue of—let us call it—the purity of gift-giving. Whereas Barclay presupposed an entirely gratuitous, non-self-interested, in short, a pure, notion of gift-giving, Martin himself preferred a decidedly less pure one.Footnote 10
The same issue underlies the monograph by James R. Harrison, Paul's Language of Grace in its Graeco-Roman Context .Footnote 11 Here, to sketch a rich discussion in the shortest possible form, it is suggested that while the inscriptional sources for the actual social and political use of what Harrison calls “the benefaction system” generally just adopt the system without criticism (thus “repressing,” in Bourdieu's term, its underlying “darker side” of egoistic calculation), one finds a little bit of critique of the system in some more philosophically minded writers (primarily Philo and Josephus, though Harrison does introduce Seneca in this connection also). It is only with Paul, however, that one reaches the true notion of the gift, which is, of course, the pure one.Footnote 12
Harrison's book has helpfully sifted and collected a huge amount of relevant source material. It is also completely successful, to my mind, in claiming throughout that Paul's highly variegated use of the language of χάριϛ (gift or benefit) should also constantly be understood in the context of Greek and Roman uses and discussions of the benefaction system. But I am doubtful about the threefold picture drawn by Harrison: sociopolitical acceptance of the system, a little bit of philosophically minded critique of it, and a revaluation in Paul. Instead, I will argue that in the De Beneficiis Seneca spells out the logic of the generally practised benefaction system as reflected in the sociopolitical sources and that Paul may profitably be read as employing the notion of χάρις (and related terms) in accordance with the logic of the system as spelled out by Seneca. The claim is certainly not that Paul had read Seneca, only that he drew on a general system that was then spelled out, as it were, to us by Seneca. With regard to that general system, the claim is that it included both an element of true other-regard and also an element of self-regarding concern. And these two things do not exclude one another.
Here I will focus on those elements in Seneca's extensive discussion in the De Beneficiis that directly shape his nonmodern understanding of gift-giving. I will then select a single, central text in Paul: Romans 1–8, and try to show how the overarching set of ideas in this passage falls very neatly into place when seen in the light of Seneca's discussion.
De Beneficiis
Seneca's De Beneficiis is a masterpiece, one of the great works of the ancient ethical tradition.Footnote 13 I read it not just as an analysis of the sociopolitical benefaction system, whose importance and pervasiveness for ancient social and political life is well known. It is certainly an analysis of that system. It is a brilliant example of a philosopher at work on the actual mechanisms of society. But it is also a piece of philosophy. It attempts to get at the heart of the benefaction system as it actually worked while emphasizing certain elements in it that made it work.Footnote 14 In doing so, it addresses an issue that is absolutely central to ancient ethics as a whole: the relationship between self-concern and other-concern. Seneca's work shows better than any other ancient text the crucial role of other-concern in ancient ethics, even as part of an ethics which begins from the question of each person's own happiness.Footnote 15 Thus when Seneca analyzes all the many facets that go into the three acts of i) beneficium dare (to give a gift or benefit), ii) beneficium accipere (to accept a gift or benefit) or gratiam referre (to return gratitude for a gift or benefit) and finally iii) beneficium reddere (to return a gift or benefit), he is not just talking about the social benefaction system, but about the role of other-concern in a happy life.
There are three fundamental features of gift-giving according to Seneca:Footnote 16 The first is that both the act of gift-giving and that of returning gratitude for the gift are acts desirable in themselves, done with no thought of any return, and done only for the advantage of the receiver or giver. These points are argued extensively throughout the treatise, not least in Book IV, which is dedicated to this theme. One argument in particular is worth quoting since it is directly relevant to Paul. It is derived from a long discussion (4.3–8) of the gods' “countless gifts (munera) that, day and night, they unceasingly pour forth” (4.3.2). This leads to the conclusion that “God bestows upon us very many and very great benefits (beneficia), with no thought of any return (sine spe recipiendi), since he on his side has no need of having anything bestowed, nor are we capable of bestowing anything on him; consequently, a benefit is a thing that is desirable in itself (per se expetenda res). It has in view only the advantage of the recipient (Una spectatur in eo accipientis utilitas; so, putting aside all interests of our own (sepositis commodis nostris), let us aim solely at this” (4.9.1).Footnote 17
Could anything be closer to the Kantian idea of the total gratuitousness of the morally right, other-regarding act and by extension the total gratuitousness of the gift? In fact yes, as we shall see. Still, Seneca insists that both the act of gift-giving and that of returning gratitude for the gift are desirable in themselves and not from a motive of self-interest. This feature we must keep in mind.
To get to the second fundamental feature in Seneca's discussion, we may note his definition of a benefit as “a loan that cannot be repaid (creditum insolubile),” or perhaps rather “a quasi-loan (tamquam creditum),” since the addition “that cannot be repaid” precisely aims to distinguish it from a true loan, which “either can or ought to be repaid” (4.12.1).
Why can a gift not be repaid? It is here that we get a glimpse of Seneca's fundamental insight.
Seneca has an understanding of gift-giving, gift-accepting, and gift-returning according to which it is the mutual emotional attitude and relationship between giver and receiver that defines the gift element in those acts. By giving, accepting, and returning benefits between one another, giver and receiver establish, support, and give expression to a personal involvement with one another that generates a space of sharing and community within which they may live. In a gift relationship giver and receiver are intentionally directed toward one another as specific people—you and me. The result is a wholly personalized space of sharing and community. This explains why a beneficium is a loan “that cannot be repaid.” Repaying implies annulment. If you repay a loan, the loan has been annulled. But if as receiver you return gratitude to the giver for a gift and even return his benefit “with interest,” you do not annul the giver's beneficent attitude toward yourself. On the contrary, you acknowledge it and even enhance it.
Let us note some quotes in support of this interpretation.Footnote 18
1) What matters in gift-giving is the animus (mind) of giver and receiver, not the res (thing given or received) (1.6.1, 2.18.8, 2.31.1, 2.31.4, 2.32.4, 2.35.1 etc).
2) Even if a receiver cannot actually return the gift, his will to do so is enough (e.g., 4.40.1–2).
3) A receiver who hastens to give back a gift does not have the mind (animus) of a person who is grateful; instead he is unwilling to be indebted (e.g., 4.40.4).
4) The feeling of indebtedness presupposes that the gift has been given to me personally, to me as me or because I am me (tamquam mihi, 6.18.2).
5) The gift relationship is closely similar to that of friendship precisely by being related to me personally (e.g., 6.16.1–5).
6) The “most sacred bond of benefits (beneficiorum . . . sacratissimum ius)”is precisely a bond “from which friendship springs (ex quo amicitia oritur)” (2.18.5).
Hence, the second fundamental feature of Seneca's conception of gift-giving, the existence of a personal involvement between giver and receiver, which is connected to a friendship relationship,Footnote 19 supports Seneca's first fundamental feature—that gift-giving and -returning are not done out of self-interest but are desirable in themselves and done for the sake of the receiver and giver. However, the second feature also qualifies the earlier one. Gift-giving and-receiving are not just desirable in themselves in the abstract, but because they are directed to this particular person, with whom one has and wishes to have a personal bond.
This leads us to the third and final fundamental feature of Seneca's conception. Though characterized by the two earlier fundamental features, gift-giving is not at all completely disinterested. For one thing, it is of course in the interest (though a Stoically qualified interest) of the receiver to obtain the res that he receives and of the giver to get back his benefit in the form of some corresponding res. Moreover, there is quite clearly built into the system an expectation on both sides that this is how the system will work.
For another thing, Seneca at one point (4.18) supports his claim that ingratitude is “a thing to be avoided in itself (per se fugienda res)” (4.18.1) by pointing out that the kind of “harmony (concordia)” and “unity (unitas)” of “the human race on which its very existence depends (qua vita sustinetur)” is destroyed if one does not maintain that “an ungrateful mind (ingratus animus) is to be avoided . . . because of itself (per se, sc. vitandus),” instead of out of fear (4.18.1–4). The idea seems to be that all human beings have an interest—even a quite personal, instrumental interest with a view to their own survival—in maintaining the space of sharing and community that will help them survive. Still, that space is constituted by the personal involvement of both people with one another as the individual people that they are and from no immediate self-concern.
Seneca and Bourdieu
What we have, then, as the fundamental features of Seneca's account are the three ideas that individual acts of gift-giving, -receiving, and -returning are not done for the purpose of personal self-interest; that they are on the contrary performed within a space of sharing and of community in which people are personally involved with one another for each other's sake; and finally, that these two features do not in the least exclude a self-interest in the system as a whole on the part of each participant.
The last part of this picture may remind one of Bourdieu's account. But there are clear and important differences, which make Seneca's account more attractive than that of Bourdieu. Seneca does not at all conceive of gift-giving exclusively in post-Kantian terms of purity: the idea that nowhere in the system must there be any form of self-concern. Neither does Bourdieu, but he does retain enough Kantian input to think that the fundamental interestedness of the gift-giving system, as he rightly sees it, will render “real,” that is pure, gift-giving impossible. Seneca does not draw this conclusion. He is quite prepared to allow for an element of interestedness in the system. Still, he also insists on one crucially important disinterested feature, which serves precisely to define the system as one of genuine gift-giving: the emotionally positive concern for the other as a partner in the space of sharing and of community generated by gift-giving. In this way, Seneca manages to keep alive both sides of the matter, in a way that Bourdieu (and Derrida with him) found impossible. He allows for the interestedness (in terms of res) of the gift-giving system at the systemic level. But he also insists on the disinterestedness (in the same terms) of the system at the level where it is most immediately operating, in the actual giving, receiving, and returning between two people. Moreover, he develops an understanding of this level, which gives it an independent logical role within the system as a whole. The personal involvement with one another (a different kind of “interestedness”), as Seneca describes it, is not just a sham or an illusion, as it comes out in Bourdieu. On the contrary, it is just as real as the other feature of self-interest that goes into the system, too.
Paul—Covenant and χάριϛ from the Side of God Part 1: Wrath and Covenant: Romans 1:16–3:20
There is plenty of material in the De Beneficiis on the gift-giving relationship between the gods and human beings that is relevant to Paul. Here I can only bring in a fraction.
We already noted Seneca's view that the gods unceasingly pour forth gifts upon human beings. This leads him to the complementary view of the human response: “No sane man fears the gods; for it is madness to fear what is beneficial (salutaria), and no one loves (amat) those whom he fears (timet)” (4.19.1). The proper human response to the gods' continuous gift-giving is therefore love. In this text we find a basic contrast between fear of the gods and love for them. This is a contrast that we will also find in Paul. It is relatively indistinct in Seneca, however, mainly because Seneca does not really entertain seriously the idea of fearing the gods. That, he claims, would be insane.
In Seneca's younger contemporary Plutarch, however, the contrast between the fear of the gods and a range of more positive attitudes toward them is genuinely alive. Moreover, in Plutarch this contrast is connected with another dichotomy that is directly relevant to Paul: God's wrath and his χάριϛ. This comes out in a passage in which Plutarch criticizes the Epicureans for “removing from God his χάριϛ together with his wrath (ὀργή)” (Mor. 1101B). In Plutarch's view one should keep the notion of God's wrath as it were as a precondition for giving the proper weight to his χάριϛ. However, like Seneca, Plutarch, too, contrasts human fear (φόβοϛ)in response to God's wrath (Mor. 1100F, 1101B) with the proper response to his χάριϛ, which in this passage he finds, not in love, but in another range of attitudes that are closely similar to what we shall find in Paul: delight (εὐφροσύνη) and joy (χαρά, Mor. 1100F), or hope (ἐγπίς) and gratitude (χάριϛ, Mor. 1101C), or finally cheerful hope and exultant joy (τὸ εὔεγπι καὶ περιχαρές Mor. 1101D).
It seems clear that in both Plutarch and Seneca we are presented with the same system of concepts that revolves around, on the one hand, the idea of God's wrath, which evokes human fear, and, on the other hand, the idea of God's χάριϛ, which generates a range of alternative reactions in human beings: love in Seneca or those just quoted in Plutarch. Both the context in Seneca and the terminology in Plutarch show that God's χάριϛ is seen as an alternative to his wrath.
Against this general background of thought, which does emphasize God's χάριϛ, can we understand Paul's overall picture in Romans 1–8 of the relationship between God and human beings more specifically in the light of Seneca's account of gift-giving? One cannot be sure since other systems of thought might also be in operation. In fact, as we shall see, Paul starts from—and in a way maintains—another specific logical structure: the distinctly Jewish one of the covenant. The question then becomes whether Paul is also drawing on the gift-giving system in chapters 1–8 as a whole. We shall see that not only are there data in the text that are elucidated by the gift-giving model once it is brought in but also elements in Paul's argument that positively require such a model.
In order to show this, I will consider Paul's overall picture in relation to the three fundamental features of gift-giving that we found in Seneca.Footnote 20 Since Paul's picture is distinctly focused on the relationship between God and human beings, we need to consider separately each of the two parties to the relationship. In accordance with Paul's own basic perspective, we shall begin with God.
The first point to be noted here is that the basic structure of Paul's thought runs from God's wrath (his ὀργή) to God's χάριϛ.Footnote 21 This is all part of God's underlying justice (δικαιοσύνη). With Rom 1:17 as the title for chapters 1–8 as a whole, 1:18 articulates God's wrath, to which non-Christ-believing Gentiles and Jews alike will be responsible (see 1:20 and 2:1 as part of 2:1–10). 3:21 and 3:24 then articulate God's justice (3:21) in the form of his gratuitous gift (3:24), which will save the believers of Christ from his wrath. The theme of wrath and χάριϛ is continued to the end of chapters 1–8 when Paul declares (8:31–34) that God is “for us” (ὑπὲρἡμῶν), and hence not wrathfully “against us” (καθ' ἡμῶν), since he has “given over” (παρέδωκεν) his own son “for us all” and will therefore also “give us (χαρίσεται) everything” (8:32), and that nobody can “condemn us” (8:34) since God “makes us just” (8:33). This fundamental step from wrath to gift—with both expressing God's justice—is of course well known.Footnote 22 We should now consider how Paul spells the step out in more detail, still with respect to God, and whether what he says is illuminated by what we have found in Seneca.
Why has God reacted with wrath toward human beings? Paul explains this in detail in Rom 1:18–3:20 for the two main groups that interest him: Jews and “Greeks,” that is, non-Jews. And he summarizes his explanation in a general way in 5:12–21. The basic answer is of course: because of sin (see 3:9, 23 and 5:12). But what he says of non-Jews (1:18–32), of Jews (2:17–3:8), and of both (2:1–11 plus 3:9–20) gives a somewhat more specific content to the notion of “sin.” Does this fit into the conception found in Seneca and if so to what extent?
In Romans 1, Paul argues that human beings (that is, non-Jews) should have grasped (1:20), praised, and given thanks to (1:21) God for his works in the world “since the creation” (1:20). This argument is ultimately of Stoic origin and so might initially be expected to fit into Seneca's conception.Footnote 23 However, in spite of the fact that Paul does speak in 1:21 of “giving thanks” to God (even using the very term for gratiam referre: εὐχαρίζεσθαι), what he emphasizes in 1:20 about God's creation of the world is not so much God's gift as his “power” (δύναμις) and “divine majesty” (θειότης). Correspondingly, what was missing in human beings is not so much the proper reaction to a gift but giving God “honor” (δοξάζειν, 1:21, 23). This is also why the punishment is—at least initially—stated to consist in human beings being “dis-honored” (ἀτιμάζεσθαι, 1:24). This connection between a failure in the direct relationship with God and a corresponding failure in people's behavior is an important one. The misbehavior (which is itself God's punishment for the lack of recognition) betrays the lack of recognition. The same view of what was missing, connected to the idea of misbehavior, is implied in Paul's remarks about the Jews a little later in the text when he claims that through their transgression of the Mosaic law, Jews “dishonor” God (2:23–24). It seems, then, that the reason for God's wrath is lack of recognition, not of a divine gift, but of the sheer divinity of God, of God's divine majesty—a lack of recognition that is then shown in misbehavior. So far then, it would be false to connect what Paul is saying in these three chapters specifically with the gift-giving system as elaborated by Seneca. This is not really surprising, however, for one would expect such a system to become relevant only with the introduction of the notion of God's and this only comes in later (from 3:21 onwards).
It should be noted here that in addition to chiding Jews about dishonoring God, Paul also describes their failure in another manner. In 3:2–3, leading up to a recurrent mention of the wrath in 3:5–6, he states that whereas God had acted with πίστις toward Jews, they on their side responded with ἀπιστία. Here πίστις means “fidelity” or “faithfulness” and the corresponding πιστία means “unfaithfulness.”Footnote 24 Since πίστις becomes an important term later when, as I will contend, Paul does bring in the gift-giving system, it is noteworthy that it already plays a role here. The reason is presumably that Paul is here speaking specifically of Jewsand, hence, presupposing the system within which the relationship with God was traditionally seen: that of the covenant. After all, he says, using covenantal language, that the Jews were “entrusted (ἐπιστεύθησαν) with God's oracles” (3:2).
This point has implications, which need to be explicated. Just as we saw that Paul did not think of the initial failure (whether of non-Jews or of Jews) as a failure to respond to a gift of God, so we should now acknowledge that the basic logical structure underlying what he says in these initial chapters of the letter is one that is different from the gift-giving system (though comparable with it): the distinctly Jewish one of a covenant between God and Israel. This idea is already made abundantly clear in 1:16–18 when Paul brings in as a central concept the notion of God's justice (δικαιοσύνη), which belongs to a different conceptual system from that of gift-giving. What triggers God's wrath—which is one form of his justice—at the initial stage is human injustice (see 1:18 and 3:5) in the form of a lack of full recognition in both non-Jews and Jews of God's divinity as shown in their behavior. The overall picture of God's justice (as underlying his wrath) and human injustice is a covenantal one.Footnote 25
Afterwards, however, God's χάριϛ—as a genuine alternative to his wrath—came into operation with the Christ event as described in 3:21 and following. Is this something that we can conceptualize—still in relation to God himself—in relation to the gift-giving system as we know it from Seneca? Indeed, yes, and this is where the comparison becomes illuminating.
Paul—Covenant and χάριϛ from the Side of God Part 2: Covenant and χάριϛ Rom 3:21–8:39
There are three things to be said here about God's intervention out of his χάριϛ. The first is that this act was i) a “free gift,” which was ii) not given to those who received it as something that was their due: i) Human beings were justified “as a free gift (δωρεάν) through his χάριϛ” (3:24) and precisely in spite of the fact that they had “all sinned” (3:23); ii) and as in the model of Abraham, this act of justification was done “in accordance with χάρις” and not “as payment of a person's due” (κατὰὀφείλημα, 4:4). On the contrary, in justifying human beings through the Christ event, God acted for the benefit of human beings—that is,in order to do good to them—in spite of the fact that they did not qualify for it (as in a contract). In this sense, God acted for the sake of human beings (see ὑπέρ in 5:8). There was something good for human beings that God wanted them to obtain: justification and the ensuing salvation (see 5:9–10), which consists of eternal life. They could not get this on their own. Then God gave it to them “as a free gift through his χάρις.”
We know what the content of the gift was at two connected, but distinguishable levels. Concretely, it was the Christ event, but with regard to God's purpose of this event, it was also its ultimate outcome: justification and life for human beings. Thus, God truly gave human beings a gift in the sense that—as seen from God's own perspective—God's concrete act with its ultimate purpose was “desirable in itself.” God just wanted the ultimate purpose to be achieved. This, then, is the first thing to be said about God's intervention with a free gift out of his χάρις: God's act was desirable in itself.
This point might be contested by referring to Paul's description of God's purpose with his act in 3:25–26, just after his reference in 3:24 to “a free gift through his χάριϛ.” In particular, more or less directly continuing the use of covenant language in 3:1–8, these verses claim that God wanted to “prove his (own) justice”Footnote 26 by justifying those who aligned themselves with Jesus' faithfulness (3:26). Is it then Paul's idea that in the Christ event God acted on his own behalf only, namely, in order to prove his own justice? Was God not concerned about humans, but only about himself? This cannot be right. God did want human beings to be just, and not merely for his own behalf, but for their sake. That is precisely what is brought in by the notion of God's free gift and his χάριϛ, that is, by describing his act in language that squarely belongs to the gift-giving system.Footnote 27 As Paul describes God in 3:21–26, he acted, in fact, in the Christ event in a manner that corresponds completely to the basic maxim of the gift-giving system with which Seneca concludes the De Beneficiis: “It is no proof of a generous mind (magni animi) to give a benefit (beneficium dare) and lose it; the proof of a generous mind is to lose (a benefit) and still to give” (7.32). Here we see, then, how a basic feature of the gift-giving system is incorporated by Paul into the underlying covenantal system from which he began: it adds to it and extends it. In the Christ event, God acted not only gratuitously vis-à-vis human failure, but also on their behalf or for their sake: to bring them something good that they would otherwise be missing.
The second thing to be said about God's intervention with the Christ event—and still as seen from the perspective of God himself—is that it is an expression of God's ἀγάπη (“love”) for human beings. The notion of God's love is brought in at 5:5 and taken up again toward the end of chapter 8. The precise location of this word, just after chapters 1–4, is noteworthy in itself, as we shall see. Now God's love is explicitly stated by Paul (see 5:6–8) to have lain behind God's act in the Christ event itself. But this love also shows itself concretely in a more specific act that follows the Christ event and the justification to which it gave rise: in the gift of the πνεῦμα (“spirit”), through which “God's love has been poured into our hearts” (5:5).
Is God's love as described here not just identical with his wish to act on behalf of human beings themselves, which we saw to be implied in the reference to his free gift and χάριϛ? Not quite. When Paul describes the Christ event as an act of χάριϛ, what he wishes to emphasize is God's generosity: that he is “lenient” (3:26), “overlooks” human sin (3:25), and aims at doing good to human beings (on their behalf) in spiteof their failures. As we just saw, this emphasis is to be found in Seneca, too. By contrast, when Paul describes the Christ event as ultimately springing from God's love, but also as issuing in God's pouring his love into believers' hearts, he wishes to emphasize God's personal investment in human beings, his emotional attitude toward them.Footnote 28 This difference fits the fact that Paul only brings in the reference to God's love in chapters 5–8, after he has established the basic story in the language of covenant (namely, justice) and χάριϛ (compare the transition in 5:1). There is a clear progression here. The background to the Christ event was set up in language that was covenantal rather than of the gift-giving sort. Then the notion of the gift was introduced in order to extend the covenantal language of God's justice, so as to explain the change from wrath to its opposite (the gift). Once it had been shown, by the end of chapter 4, how the original purpose of the covenant had been achieved through that change, the road was open to bring in even more elements from the gift-giving system. That is what happens when Paul begins to speak of God's love. For as we know, Seneca's conception of gift-giving carried with it the idea of a mutual personal investment—what Seneca called the beginning of friendship. Similarly in Paul, God not only acted gratuitously on behalf of human beings. He loves them, that is, has a personal investment in them. This, then, is the second thing to be said about God's intervention with the Christ event when one looks at it from the perspective of God himself.
Third, God's act in the Christ event does not spring only from his χάριϛ and his love for human beings, it also reflects God's own interests:i) God has an interest in recognition; he demands to be recognized and honored as God. This was very clearly stated in relation to non-Christ-following non-Jews (1:18–32), but it also applies to non-Christ-following Jews (see 2:23–24). ii) This interest on God's part finds expression in his interest that human beings do his will, whether they know it directly from his law or not. This is most clearly stated in 8:3–4. Not doing God's will is sin (see 5:12–14); God acted in the Christ event in order to remove sin (8:3–4); thus God–also–acted in order to make human beings do his will.
How will God achieve or fulfill these two interests? Precisely through the Christ event. This is another place where the notion of χάριϛ and the Senecan gift-giving structure as a whole reveals its tremendous importance. For it is only because of the precise character of the Christ event as a real gift that God may achieve these two interests. That happens, as we shall see, when human beings respond to the Christ event in the precise ways described by Paul. Then God's two interests will in fact be fulfilled. Human beings will recognize God's immense power as one who can raise the dead into life (as in the Christ event). And they will in fact also fulfill God's will as stated in the law. So far, we cannot quite see why this is so. The point around which everything turns, however, is God's giving the Christ event (with all that this implies) as a true gift and human beings accepting it as just that. It is through God's meeting human beings and human beings meeting God at this focal point of gift-giving that the original covenantal relationship between both parties may eventually reach its destined goal: recognition and the doing of God's will on the side of God; justification and eternal life on that of human beings. Everything hangs on the distinctly gift-giving character—in the full Senecan sense—of God's act and its human response.
To summarize,we may conclude that when we focus on God's perspective, there are particular data in the text that are responsive to the claim that Paul is drawing on the gift-giving system in addition to the underlying covenantal structure. Indeed, some of these data positively require such a claim: i) The idea of describing the Christ event as a gift that trumps God's justified wrath is such a datum. It brings to the surface the idea that in the Christ event, the Pauline God has acted on behalf of human beings or for their sake in spite of the fact that they had previously failed to recognize God sufficiently and to do his will. God gave the Christ event and the ensuing justification “as a free gift out of his χάριϛ.” ii) The idea of combining God's act of χάριϛ directly with his personal love for human beings is another such datum since, when seen in the light of the gift-giving model, it brings to the surface a point that does seem to be present in the text: that the relationship between God and human beings is (also) conceived as an emotional one.Footnote 29 iii) Finally, the idea that God, through the Christ event understood as a gift, will at long last achieve a number of interests of his own is yet another such datum. The point that these interests will be achieved through these means is primarily about the way the gift will function in its recipients. But the fact itself—that it is for this very reason that God decided to give a gift—is a fact about God. It shows that God staged his relationship with human beings precisely in the form of a gift in order to achieve his own aims.
Paul—Covenant and χάριϛ from the Side of Believers Part 1: Romans 4
Let us now consider in relation to believers how Paul's overall picture might correspond to the three fundamental features of gift-giving that we found in Seneca. As it happens, there are three different, though interlocking, answers to be found in Paul to the question of how God's gift is received by those who receive it the way it should be.
There is first the response of πίστις (see 1:16–17 and 3:22). We know already from 3:2–3 that πίστις may be used as a general term for the proper covenantal relationship between God and human beings. Here the proper translation is “faithfulness.” However, in connection with the “good news” (εὐαγγέλιον, see 1:16)of the Christ event, it has the somewhat more specific and pregnant meaning of “belief that God raised him from the dead” (10:9)and “trust in him who raised Jesus our Lord from the dead” (4:24). Thus in connection with the Christ event, πίστις (and the corresponding verb: πιστεύειν) appears to have the meaning both of accepting as true what God has done in the Christ event and also of trusting the God who has done precisely this.
Is this first response to God's gift one that belongs specifically within the gift giving system? To answer this question we must consider some points in Romans 4, where Paul discusses Abraham's πίστις, in particular.
Paul's basic aim with the chapter is to show three things. The first (4:2–8) is one we partly know: that when Abraham reacted with πίστις to God's promise of descendants, with the result that his belief or trust in God was then credited to him as righteousness, he had not done anything that might have earned him righteousness as something that was his due. His sheer πίστις in God's promise sufficed for justification. For the latter was given to him “in accordance with χάριϛ” (4:4). Similarly, “David” speaks in the Psalms about human beings to whom righteousness has been credited without their having done any appropriate act or even in spite of their having performed inappropriate and sinful acts. (Presumably, though, one should take it that they did have some form of πίστις relationship with God.)
Paul next aims to show (4:9–17) that this πίστις/χάριϛ relationship between Abraham and God should be understood as prefiguring the situation of Christ-following non-Jews, too, with the consequence that without having adopted any of the traditional Jewish identity markers consisting of certain things to be done (e.g., circumcision and in general following the Mosaic law), but merely through their πίστις relationship with God with regard to the Christ event, they, too, will have Abraham as their father and be counted as just (4:11, 25). The crucial verse here is 4:16, in which Paul explains that the reason why righteousness was credited in Abraham's case specifically from πίστις was that only in such a way would it be “in accordance with χάριϛ” and that the purpose of this was that only in such a way would the promise given to Abraham be guaranteed to all his descendants, that is, to non-Jews, too.Footnote 30 By contrast (as Paul seems to imply), had the promise been dependent on something to be done (e.g., circumcision or other requirements of the Mosaic law), it would not have been possible to extend it to non-Jews. This verse is crucial because it brings into the open the ethnic logic that underlies the chapter as a whole.Footnote 31 What happened to Abraham, the forefather of the Jews (4:1),happened in this particular way in order that the same kind of thing might then also happen in the same way to non-Jews, who would thereby become heirs together with Abraham (cf. 4:13–14) to the promise given to him.
Finally, Paul aims to show (4:17–22) that the πίστις on the basis of which God counted Abraham as just had a very special character. It was unwavering and invincible even against all normal expectations. God had promised Abraham an heir. Everything spoke against that happening. But Abraham remained adamant that God would fulfil his promise.Footnote 32
In the light of these points, if Abraham's πίστις prefigures that of Christ followers, can we then say that the believers' response of πίστις to God's gift in the Christ event is one that belongs specifically within the gift-giving system? We saw that Paul has constructed the whole story about Abraham in his specific way—with its emphasis on Abraham's πίστις alone and on God's counting him just “in accordance with χάριϛ (4:4)—in order to make it fit the situation of Christ-following non-Jews, who also act “in accordance with χάριϛ” (4:16). Since Paul aims to be speaking precisely of non-Jews, who by definition do not follow the Mosaic law, one might take the phrase “in accordance with χάρις” as used by him here actually to mean “. . . and so not on the basis of works of the Mosaic law.” That is, one might take the phrase to have lost its most obvious meaning of “as a gift” with its direct reference to the gift-giving system. That is not the case, however.
To see this, we must be extremely precise in accounting for the logic that underlies Paul's whole argument. Logically, there are three stages in the “story line” that Paul is presupposing: i) God made a promise to Abraham; ii) Abraham believed it; iii) God reckoned this belief/trust as righteousness. Similarly with non-Jews: i) God staged the Christ event; ii) non-Jews believed it; iii) God reckoned this belief/trust as righteousness. Here it is noteworthy that what is said to have occurred “in accordance with χάρις” is specifically the last of the three things: that the belief/trust is reckoned as righteousness. This is noteworthy since this claim is not exactly the same as what appears to be the basic and most comprehensive claim made in the argument as a whole—to the effect that both Abraham and the Christ-following non-Jews receive justification (that is, κατὰ χάριν)and not as something that is their due. Apparently, Paul wishes to say somewhat more specifically that both Abraham and Christ-following non-Jews received justification ἐπὶ τῇ πίστει (that is, “concomitantly with their πίστις,” as we might say). What, then, is the role of this πίστις, which evidently cannot have the character of being an “act” (something done through which they might have “earned” justification as their due? And why is Paul so careful to operate with three different stages and to place the stage of πίστις between the two others?
In order to answer these questions we must note two things. The first is that in spite of the fact that the reference to God's gift is tied to the third of our three stages, the general direction of Paul's argument suggests that the two initial acts on God's part (the promise to Abraham and the Christ event, respectively) were also staged as a free gift and in accordance with his χάριϛ. The whole process begins with a free gift on God's part (in the case of the Christ event due to the breakdown of the earlier covenantal relationship). The second thing to be noted is then the specific characteristic of Abraham's πίστις that Paul is so keen on bringing out in 4:17–22—that he had a complete and unwavering trust in God's promise.
If we bring these two things together, we can see that God's reckoning Abraham and Christ-followers as just ἐπὶ τῇ πί στει (third stage) means this: as part of a gift-giving relationship that has been established by God's own gift-giving initiative (the promise and the Christ event) on the one hand (first stage) and, on the other hand, by the corresponding response on the part of those to whom the gift has been initially offered (second stage). God has done his part in order to establish a gift-giving relationship simply by offering the gift. And those to whom it has been offered have, on their side, done the corresponding part of entering into the gift-giving relationship simply by accepting (second stage) God's offer (first stage), in the sense of being firmly convinced that it will in fact come about (third stage): that they will receive what God has offered them. With that relationship having been established of gift-giving and the corresponding acceptance of the offer, the human parties to the relationship are counted as just. Or in other words, through the means of the shared establishment of the gift-giving relationship in its full mutuality, the original goal of the covenant has been established. Human beings who enter into the gift-giving relationship and accept God's free offer are now counted as just.
The fundamental point here is a very simple one that immediately explains why Paul has distinguished between the three stages and why he places such an emphasis on the role of πίστις. The point is that justification (third stage) is given by God—as a free gift and in accordance with his χάριϛ—as part of a fully established gift-giving relationship. This relationship has been established by God's free promise and offer (first stage) and by an equally trusting attitude on the part of human beings (second stage), an acceptance of God's promise and offer that reflects only the fact of God's having made them.
Thus, to go back to our question, the phrase “in accordance with χάριϛ” is very far from meaning only “. . . and so not on the basis of works of the Mosaic law.” On the contrary, Paul is attempting to show positively that Abraham and Christ followers have been counted as just as part of a wholly distinct, new relationship between God and human beings, which is that of the gift-giving relationship. God took the initiative; human beings responded; and it is within that relationship that the promise and offer reaches its eventual goal.
We should conclude that underlying Romans 4 there is a very carefully thought out understanding of the meaning of the claim that God has counted human beings as just ἐπὶ τῇ πί στει and as a gift, whether in the case of Abraham or in that of non-Jewish Christ followers. Indeed, the whole point of this understanding is that i) the Christ event itself, ii) people's response to it with πίστις, and iii) God's counting them as just all belong precisely within a gift-giving structure and that it is through this new means that God aimed to recreate the covenantal relationship that had unfortunately been broken: of God's πίστις (or justice) being met by the πίστις (or justice) of human beings (see 3:2–3, 26).
Paul—Covenant and χάριϛ from the Side of Believers Part 2: Romans 5 and 8
Let us now consider the other two answers to the question of how God's gift is received by those who receive it in the proper way. Do these, too, fit into the gift-giving system as we know it from Seneca?
In addition to the response of πίστις, Paul also operates with a directly emotional reaction to God's gift. Paul calls it ἀγάπη, just as Seneca spoke of reacting with love (amare) to the gods' gifts. As we know, the theme of ἀγάπη is introduced in Rom 5:5 and it comes up again in the latter half of Romans 8 (8:28, 8:35 and 8:39). This distribution is not fortuitous. On the contrary, 5:1–11 and 8:14–39 are bound together thematically in a number of ways.Footnote 33 We need to consider the thematic connections very carefully in order to form a precise picture of the emotional relationship between God and believers.
Romans 5:5 introduces the theme of ἀγάπη in a manner that is both immediately intelligible and yet also raises some intriguing questions. The overall theme of 5:1–11 is that of the status and position vis-à-vis God of those who have been justified by faith (cf. 5:1). They are in a state of “peace in relation to God” (5:1); they have obtained “access . . . to the χάριϛ” in which they now “stand” and “rejoice (καυχᾶσθαι) in the hope for the glory (δόξα) of God” (5:2). The same theme is brought in at the end of the section in 5:10–11, where peace and access are now termed “reconciliation” (καταλλαῆναι, καταλλαγή) and where Paul repeats the motif of rejoicing (καυχᾶσθαι, 5:11). In between, however, he has taken up the theme of hope (ἐλπίς) from the end of 5:2 and is now (5:3–10) more concerned with hope for the future than with rejoicing about the present.
He begins by drawing a contrast between hope for the future and the superficially negative reality of the present. Not only do believers “rejoice in hope for the glory of God”: they also “rejoice in (their present) trials” (5:3) since they know that trials will generate endurance (ὑπομονή), which will generate a tried character (δοκιμή), which will generate hope—and hope will not put them to shame (5:3–5). The latter claim is then justified: “. . . for the love of God has been poured into our hearts through the holy πνεῦμα that has been given to us” (5:5). Commentators regularly and rightly discuss whether Paul intends to speak of God's love for human beings, the love of human beings for God, or both.Footnote 34 Two facts show that “the love of God” is—at least also—to be understood as God's love for human beings. One is that Paul goes on to justify his claim about the love of God by referring to the Christ event (5:6–7); the other that he repeats this justification (5:8) in terms of a claim about the love of God which unmistakably says that “God shows his own love toward us” in the Christ event.Footnote 35 Does it also refer to love the other way round? This is where 5:5 becomes intriguing. I will end up answering, “not quite” to this question. But Paul's formulation in 5:5 also opens up a line of thought that is then taken up in 8:14–39, where his position becomes somewhat different.
Within 5:1–11 itself the reference to “the love of God” has the function of justifying believers' hope for the future. God's love lay behind the Christ event, to which believers responded with faith and were therefore justified. So much more may they now feel certain that “having now been justified” through the Christ event they “will be saved . . . (in the future) from the wrath (of God)” (5:9–10). God's love as shown in the Christ event will also provide the final salvation from his wrath. Thus the basic function of Paul's reference to God's love both here in 5:5 and also in the section that concludes chapter 8 (8:31–39) is that of generating certainty in the readers that the object of their hope will in fact be realized: God's love will ultimately see itself through.
It is interesting to note the way Paul brings this out in 8:31–39. There is first (8:31–34a) an account of what God has already done and will (surely) also do in the future: “He who did not spare his own son, but gave him up for all of us, will he not with him also give (χαρίζεσθαι) us everything?” (8:32). This is then (8:33–34a) rephrased in a manner that takes up the initial point about God's being “for” believers with the implied consequence that nobody will therefore be able to be “against” them (8:31). Paul now asks who may bring a charge (ἐγκαλεῖν)against those whom God has elected and who may condemn (κατακρίνειν) those whom God has justified. The question about who and the fact that he speaks of ἐγκαλεῖν and κατακρίνειν together show that Paul has two things in mind: first, that with God on their side believers need fear no one at all (so overwhelming is God's power), and second, that with God on their side, believers no longer need to fear God. With God's having elected and justified believers, and with his having given over his own son on behalf of believers, God himself will neither bring a charge against nor condemn them. Instead, in his χάριϛ he will give them everything (8:32).Footnote 36
This first part of 8:31–39 has not spoken explicitly of God's love. Instead, it has drawn on language that belongs back in chapters 1–4 while also (slightly implicitly) celebrating the idea that was mentioned in 5:9 to the effect that justification will mean final salvation from God's wrath. With the second part of 8:31–39 (8:34b–37), Paul brings in the Christ event as in 8:32, but now with a focus on Christ himself (as against God in 8:32), which leads him to claim that since Christ has died and been raised and is now sitting at the right hand of God interceding on believers' behalf (8:34), no one (or as it turns out in 8:35b: nothing) can “separate” them from “the love of Christ” (8:35a). The sense of the latter expression is not immediately obvious.Once more, is the genitive subjective, objective, or both? Fortunately, 8:37 suggests a solution. If believers are able to be “victorious over” all the worldly hardships listed in 8:35b “through the one (namely, Christ) who has conceived love for us” (8:37), then the idea must be that the (subjective) love of Christ is sufficiently strong to protect believers by keeping them within its own orbit or power sphere and thus to ensure that in spite of whatever may happen to them, they will receive whatever that love was meant to give them. “The love of Christ” is “Christ's love” that will see them through.
Finally, the last part of 8:31—39 (8:38—39) repeats exactly the same point, but now by referring explicitly to God's love, “the one (shown) in Christ Jesus, our Lord” (8:39). Here again Paul says that nothing will be “able to separate” believers from this love. And here again the sense must be that God's love as shown in the Christ event will see itself through against all the other entities listed in 8:38–39.
Concerning 8:31–39, we should conclude that the divine love that is mentioned here (Christ's or God's) serves the same function as in 5:5 of ensuring Paul's readers that the ultimate object of their hope will be in fact realized by God. We should also conclude that the idea that nobody and nothing may “separate” believers from Christ's or God's love is primarily about that love's being able to see itself through and reach the goal for human beings that it has set for itself from the beginning. So far, then, in what is said in 5:5 and 8:31–39 about divine love, we have found no clear indication that Paul was also thinking of human love for Christ or God.
This brings us back to the intriguing aspect of 5:5: why does Paul say that God's love has been “poured into our hearts”? And why does he bring in the πνεῦμα at all? As commentators note, the former question should probably be answered in terms of the latter. That is, since one might regularly speak of the πνεῦμα as being “poured into the hearts,” and since Paul apparently wanted to say that God's love had been given to believers not just through the Christ event itself but also in the giving of the πνεῦμα, for that reason, he chose this particular way of phrasing his point. But then, why did he want to bring in the πνεῦμα at all? As we have seen, his claim about God's love is supported twice in the immediately subsequent reference to the Christ event. And the πνεῦμα has no role to play, neither here nor anywhere else in 5:1–11 as a whole. So why? The answer is not so difficult to find: 5:5 anticipates the whole of 8:14–39.Footnote 37 With its reference to God's love and the role of that in overcoming his wrath and ensuring that the object of human hope will be realized, it anticipates 8:31–39 (as we have just seen). With its reference to the πνεῦμα as present in the hearts of believers, it anticipates the whole of 8:14–30. Let us now consider the point of this.
I am concerned to show that throughout 8:14–30, where the πνεῦμα plays a crucial role, Paul aims to speak of the emotional relationship of believers with God (partly through their relationship with the object of their hope). More specifically, I aim to show that the explicit reference in 8:28 to believers' loving God is not just an obiter dictum. On the contrary, it brings out from the side of believers the attitude toward God that corresponds to the attitude the other way round that was introduced in 5:5 and will be further spelled out in 8:31–39.
Romans 8:14–30 consists of four sections that are relevant:Footnote 38 8:14–17, 8:18+23–25, 8:16–27, and 8:28–30. 8:14–17 brings in a range of concepts that will be important in what follows. First, there is the πνεῦμα itself, which is said not to be a πνεῦμα of slavery, which would lead believers back to fear (φόβοϛ). As will be shortly evident, the πνεῦμα plays an important role in 8:23–25 and 8:26–27. Second, there is the idea of sonship (8:14, 15) and being the children of God (8:16, 17). This is particularly closely connected with the πνεῦμα. It is when one is being “driven by God's pneuma ” that one is a child of God (8:14). And it is by having received a πνεῦμα that is one of sonship that one cries out (when rising from the baptismal bath) “Abba! Father!” (8:15).Footnote 39 Moreover, by making believers do that, the πνεῦμα itself as it were tells them that they are children of God (8:16). The idea of sonship is next taken up in 8:19 and 8:23. It is also taken up in 8:29, along with the idea of being children of God, as Paul states that God has beforehand singled out believers to become conformed to the image of his own son, which will make him the firstborn “among many brothers.” Third, there is the point in 8:14–17 that believers will be “heirs of God,” but “co-heirs of Christ” (8:17)—a point that again looks forward to 8:29 which is about Christ and his brothers. And fourth, there is the idea that believers will be co-heirs with Christ in the precise sense that they will initially suffer with him but will then be glorified with him. Here the idea of suffering foreshadows the whole of 8:18–27, which precisely spells out the present suffering. And the idea of final glory constitutes the concluding point in the account given in 8:28–30, which is about the knowledge that believers nevertheless have that God has known and singled them out beforehand, that he has called them, justified them, and (as it were also beforehand) glorified them. This means that God has, in a way, already done to them what will in fact only be done to them on the Day of Judgment.
In these four ways, 8:14–17 constitutes a precise and powerful introduction to 8:18–30. It is noteworthy, however, that the passage is also clearly intended to bring out what one may call the positive side of the present situation of believers. It is only with the last five words on suffering and ultimate glorification that the passage introduces the account of the present sufferings that extends from 8:18 to 8:27. Before that, what we hear about believers is altogether positive: that being led by God's πνεῦμα they are “God's sons”; that they have received a πνεῦμα that is not one of slavery leading back to fear; that the πνεῦμα itself bears witness to them that they are “God's children”; and finally, that being children of God, they are also his heirs and Christ's co-heirs.
With 8:18, however, Paul begins to give a different picture of believers. Like the whole of creation (8:22), they sigh (8:23) while waiting—patiently (8:25)—for sonship (8:23), just as does creation as a whole (8:19). Three times in this passage, Paul uses the almost technical term of ἀπεκδέχεσθαι, which has the sense of “anxiously expecting” or “eagerly awaiting.” The note of longing to get away from the present intermediary state is strong here. In fact, it is hardly wrong to see a progression in Paul's account of the level of despair (even as part of the state of hope) in sections 8:19–22, 23–25, and 26–27. He begins in 8:18 by stating that he does not consider the present sufferings to be worth anything in comparison with the glory that is about to be revealed. However, his account in 8:19–22 of the sufferings of the whole of creation certainly stresses the longing to be away from the present state. And the same goes for his account in 8:23–25 of believers who are sighing among themselves and eagerly waiting to obtain the status of sonship, which includes getting away from the body as it is now. They are only saved in the mode of hope, and since this hope is for something that is not present, they are eagerly—but also patiently—waiting for its final consummation. Moreover, all of this is in spite of the fact that they have already received the first—fruits of the πνεῦμα. Even worse, however, is the fact that they do not know what to pray for. But here they are helped by the πνεῦμα, which generates some kind of direct contact with the God who “searches the hearts” and sees what the πνεῦμα has in mind when it is present within believers' hearts and intercedes with God on their behalf.
It seems clear that Paul is trying to bring out very strongly a sense of near-despair and a longing away from the present state and toward the hoped-for future. Still, in spite of finding themselves in this precarious situation, believers are also helped, to some extent, at least, by the fact that they do possess the first-fruits of the πνεῦμα and that it even intercedes with God on their behalf. What is Paul's purpose in describing the present state of believers in this very complicated way? The answer may be found by considering the last bit of text (8:28–30) in relation to what immediately precedes.
Note the motif in 8:26–27 of not knowing and knowing. Believers do not even know (see οὐκ οἴδαμεν in 8:26) how to pray. God, however, knows (see οἶδεν in 8:27) πνεῦμα has in mind. Then comes 8:28: Οἴδαμεν δὲ κτλ., that is, “But we do know that. . . .” The contrast here with what precedes is very emphatic. And in fact, 8:28–30 returns completely to the positive note of 8:14–17 by spelling out exactly how it is certainly the case (as 8:17 had it) that believers will “suffer together with (Christ) in order also to be glorified together with (him)” and how it is certainly also the case (as Paul had stated in 8:18) that the present sufferings are worth nothing in comparison with the glory that will soon be revealed to them. What is it then, according to 8:28–30 itself, that believers know? They know that to those who love God (as they themselves do) everything works out for the good of those who are called in accordance with God's purpose (8:28). These people have been known and singled out beforehand (8:29). And they have been called, justified and glorified—even before the actual event (8:30). Thus, in spite of all the sufferings and vacillations that Paul listed in 8:19–27, believers know—and may take comfort in the knowledge—that since they themselves love God, things have been organized for their good from the very beginning. Their love of God almost ensures that things will come out right in the end.
Looking back over 8:14–30, we can thus see that Paul is focusing very strongly on the emotional state of believers, on their understanding of their own situation and on their attitude toward God and what they hope to receive from him. They are filled with the πνεῦμα and hence i) free of fear and ii) turned as sons toward God as their father. In this way they are also filled with the sense of being God's children. However, in the present state of suffering, they are only more or less desperately longing to receive the full and final sonship. They are sighing for it and only hoping for it. In the end, however, they do know that since they love God, everything will turn out for the good. They have been called beforehand and God has beforehand done everything that will lead them to the final glory.
τί οὖν ἐροῦμεν πρὸ ςαῦτα (8:31)? In the last section, which we have already discussed, Paul argues that the knowledge believers have of what will happen to those who love God is in fact wholly justified since it is matched by God's own love the other way round. That love, which is the opposite of God's wrath, will “give us everything as a gift (χαρίσαεται)” together with (the gift of) Christ (8:32).
So, does Paul have the idea of a human love of God that is connected with God's love the other way round? Definitely yes. Moreover,in the light of the development we have elucidated from 8:14–17 via 8:18, 23–25 and 26–27 to 8:28–30 (and 8:31–39), we may even say that the human love of God that is explicitly mentioned in 8:28 at the turning-point from near-despair and mere hope to certainty is already de facto brought in with full force in 8:14–17 when Paul explains the effect in believers of their reception of the πνεῦμα. Receiving the πνεῦμα means becoming children of God. But it also means something more: an emotional turning away from fear and toward God, whom one greets as one's father.Footnote 40 8:28 then explicitly states what must have been implied all along: The emotional content of this positive turn is that of love.Footnote 41
In the light of all this, how should we understand 5:5? I think we can now see that the specific phrasing chosen by Paul contains a supernumerary content that is only explicated in 8:14–30. As part of the argument of 5:1–11 it would have been enough to say—as Paul in fact does say in 5:8—that God has shown his love for human beings in the Christ event. But Paul also says something more. He brings in the πνεῦμα, which has no role in the immediate argument. And he brings in the idea that God's love is “poured into our hearts” through the πνεῦμα that has (also) “been given to us.” These are supernumerary ideas that are only fully explicated much later. And there they do imply the idea of a human love that responds to God's love.Footnote 42
Similarly, how should we in the end understand the two references in 8:35 and 39 to the idea that nothing is able to “separate us from” Christ's or God's love? Once more, the immediate sense is the subjective one I have given. But now, with so much in 8:14–30 concerned with the emotional directedness of believers toward God, can anybody be certain that the very peculiar idea of “non-separation” does not also contain the note of human beings feeling inseparable or non-separated from the divine love—namely, by responding to it in kind?Footnote 43
Enough has been said to conclude that the important theme in Romans 5 and 8 of God's love has, as its counterpart, an equally important theme of the love with which human beings meet and respond to that divine love. What we have here, according to Paul, is precisely a mutual, interlocking state of love, one that corresponds to the mutual gift-giving relationship that we saw him develop in chapter 4. This idea intimately fits the gift-giving system as we know it from Seneca. Paul only begins to speak of this mutual love in Romans 5 and 8 after the basic gift-giving system has been established, with God's χάρις being responded to by Christ followers' πίστις, all of which results in believers' being declared just (see 5:1). By contrast, the love relationship—though hardly God's own love—is established at a later stage when believers are baptized and have received the πνεῦμα. Similarly, as we saw, in Seneca the gift-giving relationship was itself only the beginning of friendship (with all the connotations of Stoic “friendship,” which certainly includes an element of “love”).Footnote 44
The third response to God's gift on the part of the Pauline Christ followers corresponds to the one we noted in Plutarch: cheerful hope and exultant joy (τὸεὔελπι καὶ περιχαρές). This is the theme of hope (ἐγπίς), and indeed hope for glory and salvation, which we have already come across and which Paul celebrates in 8:17–30.It is important to see that this theme is looking toward the future and that it is about concretely obtaining something (more) from God: post-mortem glory, in fact what Paul has earlier (6:22–23) described as “eternal life,” as contrasted (6:21) with “death.” This idea takes up the description Paul has given already in chapter 2 (2:6–10) of the reward or punishment that God will give to human beings “on the day of wrath when God's righteous judgement will be revealed” (2:5): “eternal life” (2:7) with “glory and honor and peace” to “everyone who does good” (2:10), and “anguish and distress” to “everyone who does evil” (2:9). Seen in the light of of Seneca's analysis of gift-giving, this third theme of hope clearly belongs with the res, the things to be obtained through gift-giving, not with the animus, the mental attitude of the recipient vis-à-vis the giver. The latter idea falls under the two previous themes of post-baptismal ἀγάπη and the initial response of πίστις. Still, it is noteworthy that under the general rubric of how God's gift is received by those who receive it in the proper way, Paul identifies three different reactions that all fit into the picture we derived from Seneca. What is more, it should surely make one pause to realize that these three reactions are in fact identical with the famous Pauline triad of faith, hope and love.Footnote 45
Romans 1–8: Two Corollaries and a Retrospect
Before concluding on Romans 1–8, we should note two corollaries of our reading of the role played by the gift-giving system as part of Paul's argument. One concerns the theme of fulfilling God's will. The other is about the wider rhetorical function of Paul's gift-giving interpretation of the Christ event itself.
We saw that God had an interest in seeing the fulfillment of his will; and I suggested—without being able to spell it out then—that God's use of gift-giving might precisely serve that interest. We can now see how. The reason is that the two first responses of Christ followers to God's act of gift-giving have precisely the effect of making believers wish to fulfill God's will. The response of piv sti~ itself has this character since it consists in an unwavering directedness toward God. And the response of ἀγάπη has this character, too, and to an even larger extent. With human beings meeting God's love with a love of their own in a mutual, interlocking pattern, there is nothing they may wish to do other than fulfilling God's will. Everything is ready, therefore, to make them return God's gift (compare the idea in Seneca of beneficium reddere) by actually fulfilling his will. In this way, by God's use of the gift-giving system, the original purpose of the covenant is achieved.
The other corollary concerns the way Paul's reasoning on gift-giving fits in with what is his most comprehensive aim in Romans 1–8 as a whole: to show that the what is his most comprehensive aim in Romans 1—8 as a whole: to show that the proper response for Jews and non–Jews alike to God's beneficial act of sending Christ is in fact one of faith and love—and hence returning the benefit. What Paul is saying is that God has performed an overwhelming act of χάρις. Nobody acts rightly, then, if he does not respond to that act in kind, which means: in the way in which a beneficial act done to you requires your proper response of πίστις, of returning ἀγάπη for the ἀγάπη shown by God, of gratitude (or thanks, εὐχαριστία, as Paul has it elsewhereFootnote 46, and of returning the benefit by doing God's will. Any other response will amount to annulling God's gift.Footnote 47 By relying on the semantic field of gift-giving as elucidated to us by Seneca, Paul becomes able to “remind” (see 15:15) his addressees that they must respond appropriately to God's gift by receiving it with the direct (πίστις) and emotional (ἀγάπη) involvement with God that also constitutes gratitude (in Seneca: gratiam referre). That is also the attitude that must be found in his addressees if they are to solve the remaining issues that he goes on to address. In all this Paul is relying on the special character of the gift-giving system that he has chosen as the grid through which to see the Christ event and to fit it into the underlying scheme of covenant and justice.
This leads to a few retrospective remarks on the proposed reading of Ro-mans 1–8.
First, I have argued that Paul in Romans 1–8 is drawing distinctly on the ancient Graeco-Roman gift-giving system as spelled out to us, for instance, by Seneca. But would it not be sufficient to see him as operating within a more or less traditional form of Jewish covenantal thinking? For instance, while the notion of God's wrath is certainly a traditional element of covenantal thinking, so is that of God's “steadfast mercy” (his ḥesed
).Footnote 48 Correspondingly, the notion of πίστις on the human side, to which I have given a specifically gift-giving interpretation (as it is spelled out in Romans 4), was not a “post-covenantal,” Pauline invention, but rather an intrinsic part of covenantal thinking itself. Indeed, is it at all convincing to see Paul as operating with two distinct systems of thought (of covenant and of gift-giving) within the same very few verses, e.g. Rom 3:23–26, as I have suggested?
I shall not repeat here the arguments already given for viewing the gift-giving system to be at work in the Pauline texts. Still, the emphasis on the “free gift” of God (3:24) is striking. (See also 5:15 and 17 as part of a passage, 5:15–21, which as a whole almost overemphasizes the “free” character of God's χάριϛ.) The contrast between God's act in accordance with χάριϛ and God's paying people their true due (4:4) exactly corresponds to Seneca's contrast between gift-giving and lending. And the special character of Abraham's response of πίστις presupposes the former particular kind of act on God's side.
If all of this is accepted, then I have no objection to saying, as I have already done, that Paul, throughout, is working within a covenantal system of thought, which he also extends by drawing on the gift-giving system that we know from elsewhere. He may well be relying on the more traditional notion of God's “steadfast mercy” (but then again extending it in the gift-giving direction). And he is surely relying on the traditional notion of πίστις (both divine and human) in his account of the special form that it has taken in Abraham and Christ followers. The point will stand that we need to bring in the gift-giving system, too, in order to capture everything he says.
Nor is this really very strange. After all, Paul is arguing in Romans 4, as we have seen, for an understanding of the Abraham story that would immediately extend the divine-human relationship to a similar relationship between God and people who were not Jews. But then a system of thought that had been most distinctly elaborated outside a Jewish context but which could nevertheless be seen as a clear and strong extension of traditional Jewish covenantal thinking would be a perfect fit. Here, it seems, Paul found an ideal set of ideas with which to develop traditional Jewish covenantal thinking in a direction that would precisely explain why the traditional role of the Mosaic law within that thinking should be rejected.
The second retrospective remark is that the interpretation I have given of the underlying logic of Romans 1–8 is quite close to a traditional Christian interpretation: that of God's completely free gift as expressing his χάριϛ and that of the corresponding, completely unwavering human response of πίστις, which in itself suffices for justification. Where the proposed interpretation differs is—once more—in an extension of that particular idea to cover also these two themes: of God's love for human beings being met by their love for God in a mutual, interlocking pattern, and of God's personal interests (in recognition and having his will be done) in and behind the whole process being met by human beings also having a personal interest (in salvation and eternal life) in participating in it. All three elements go into Paul's overall picture, which nevertheless stresses the first feature of the free gift and human πίστις.
It seems a strength of the proposed interpretation that it is able to integrate both a “traditional Jewish,” covenantal reading of the logic of Paul's argument and a “traditional Christian,” grace-oriented one while at the same time giving the whole picture a more comprehensive and very precise point. If this result has been achieved by analyzing Paul's argument in the light of the logic of the gift-giving system as spelled out to us by Seneca, then this only shows once more that Paul must truly be read “beyond the Judaism/Hellenism divide.”Footnote 49
Conclusion
I have argued that Seneca's analysis of gift-giving helps to dissolve the modern problem about gift-giving raised by both Derrida and Bourdieu. This is a good example of the way in which a return to ancient Greek and Roman ethics behind the Christian tradition and its modern offshoots (from Kant onwards) may help us to see a one-sidedness in the later tradition.Footnote 50 I have also argued that Paul himself belongs with Seneca and before the later tradition. As we have seen, Paul should not be interpreted as entertaining a puristic understanding of God's gift even though, like Seneca, he, on one level, emphasizes the completely other-regarding character of God's act.
This result also throws serious doubts on much of the modern scholarly analysis of the ancient material on χάριϛ. For instance, James Harrison's picture, which I sketched very briefly to begin with, appears to me highly doubtful. It is not that we find the beginning of a critique of the gift-giving system in the Roman philosopher Seneca, a critique that is then taken one step further in the Jewish philosopher and theologian Philo, and is only brought to full bloom in the Christian theologian Paul. Rather, Seneca is articulating with philosophical precision an understanding of the gift-giving system that was part and parcel of the ancient system itself as socially practised throughout the Hellenistic world. And Paul is relying on the same understanding in articulating what God has done to human beings in the Christ event.
The villain in all this is the modern, puristic conception of gift-giving. I hope to have shown that this is not there in the ancient sources. Instead, there is one element in those sources that is sufficient to make gift-giving different from any other kind of person—to—person relationship and indeed sufficient to save its life—giving character: the element of personal involvement with the other as the person he or she is, the element that, as Seneca has it, makes gift-giving an act “from which friendship springs.”Footnote 51 This element is developed and emphasized by Seneca and Paul alike. They saw better, I believe, on this topic than their successors.Footnote 52