Behave Honorably, Refuting Slanders

Behave Honorably, Refuting Slanders

1 Peter 2:11–17

Honoring Christ Where You Are Exiled (2:11–17)

This status as God’s people (2:4–10) makes believers outsiders to the world (2:11), to those who still live as gentiles (2:12). Peter has emphasized believers’ group identity in Christ (2:4–10), but now he underlines the importance of fulfilling social obligations. The eschatological people of God must still function within society, morally distinct but socially honorable. The instructions regarding subjects of kings (2:13), slaves (2:18–25), and wives of nonbelievers (3:1–6) do not mandate maintaining monarchy, slavery, or patriarchal forms of marriage in all societies. (Indeed, attempts to resurrect those structures against current social paradigms would undercut the attempts at peace with society for which these instructions were designed.) These are human institutions (2:13), and Peter himself recognizes that they may act unjustly (2:19).1 They do illustrate the principle of honoring social roles where possible for the sake of Christian witness (2:12–13).

As with the general moral exhortations in 1:13–2:3, Peter provides rationales for the more concrete social exhortations in 2:11–3:17. Here, however, most of the rationale seems less generically Christian (focused on the gospel) and more addressed to the audience’s precarious social situation. We might divide these among four (overlapping) categories, all “on account of the Lord” (2:13):

None of this suggests that believers should seek suffering or subordination; it does, however, instruct believers locked in such situations to respond with grace rather than retaliation. Still, these four categories (of which the first and third seem most prominent) do not exhaust grounds for behavior outside 2:12–3:6. In 2:11, believers should avoid fleshly lusts because they do not belong to this world. In 3:7–12, one should be gracious specifically toward a wife, and more generally others, or God will not hear one’s prayers.

Don’t Act like the World (2:11–12)

2:11

Loved ones, I urge you as resident foreigners and resident aliens to stay away from those physical passions that battle against the soul.

2:12

Behave well among the gentiles. That way, those who slander you as wrongdoers for something may see your good works and honor God on the day when he comes.

2:11

Verses 11 and 12 are key for what follows, but they also relate to the preceding section. As members of a new people (1 Pet. 2:9–10), Christ-followers are aliens on earth (1:1, 17; 2:11), but they should behave honorably in human societies, just as societies expected of other resident aliens (2:12–14). For discussion of the roles of resident aliens, see comment on 1:1, 17.

The address “beloved” or loved ones (2:11; 4:12) was very common in early Christian correspondence.2 This emphasis, natural in a movement that foregrounded the ethic of love, becomes all the more obvious when we contrast other works (admittedly not letters) that entirely omit this vocative form, or at least its substantival usage.3 Love among themselves produces group cohesion, solidifying their identity as distinct from the surrounding world. They thus remain resident foreigners (Peter uses here a cognate of the term in 1:17) and resident aliens (the title from 1:1), the double title4 reinforcing their distinctiveness as a people.5 Not only did the larger Diaspora Jewish communities provide such a model of resident aliens, but so did seminomadic patriarchs and other biblical forebears (Heb. 11:9, 13; cf. Acts 7:6, 29; 13:17).

This is the first of two times that Peter “urges” them (using the verb parakaleō; 1 Pet. 2:11; 5:1), and therefore an important key point in a letter the purpose of which was partly to “encourage” them (again using parakaleō; 5:12). On the function of this exhortation in more detail, see comment on 5:1.

In light of this identity, they should stay away from6 this world’s fleshly desires (2:11). Peter associates flesh with mortality (1:24; 3:18; 4:1). He probably envisions here a soul committed to God but still tempted by physical impulses that are a necessary and inescapable part of creaturely existence (and both individual and species survival).

Although Peter allows for judgment in God’s household (4:17), he need not associate the Christian Diaspora with judgment (even aside from the fact that much of it existed because of conversions in the Diaspora). Whereas the dominant Judean view of Israel’s dispersion was judgment, many Diaspora Jews held more complex perspectives.7 Positive perceptions appear, for example, in the pre-Christian Letter of Aristeas,8 and Philo applies the image universally.9

The Greek terms that I have translated as resident foreigners and resident aliens (paroikos and parepidēmos) appear together only twice in the Septuagint, and in the same sequence. This is particularly significant in view of the fact that these are the only passages in the Septuagint that include the latter term at all. Abraham is a “foreigner” and “resident alien” among long-term residents of Canaan (Gen. 23:4), and the psalmist, echoing Abraham’s experience, is a “foreigner” and “resident alien” before God, like his ancestors (Ps. 38:13 [ET 39:12]). The former term is more frequent and applies initially to the patriarchs in a land promised to them but not yet theirs (Gen. 23:4), and for Israel in Egypt (Gen. 15:13; Exod. 2:22; Deut. 23:7; cf. Exod. 23:9) or Moses in Midian (Exod. 18:3). The psalm (LXX Ps. 38:12–14; ET 39:11–13) depicts the fleeting character of life under God’s discipline but fits well into Peter’s motif that life in this world is merely transitory (cf. 1 Pet. 1:24).

It also includes gentile sojourners in Israel (Lev. 25:6), who could be employed, provided for, and live among them (25:35, 40). They were welcome and fully protected; biblical law forbade oppressing them,10 in contrast to resident aliens’ vulnerable status in many ancient cultures (and in Israel when these laws were ignored). They were second-class regarding some details of the covenant,11 but they could join the covenant and be fully like native Israelites (Exod. 12:48; Num. 9:14)—much more readily than resident aliens could be assimilated into Greek cities. A similar combination declares that God’s own people are just aliens (LXX: prosēlutoi, which came to mean “proselytes”) and foreigners with him in his land (Lev. 25:23).12

Others, especially Hellenistic Jews who understood the ramifications of noncitizen residency, had also figuratively adapted the imagery of sojourning or being temporary residents. Thus, for example:

The Venerable Bede understands Peter as addressing figurative strangers whose fatherland is “elsewhere.”18

I translate sarx as “physical” in relation to passions not in the sense of material as opposed to immaterial, but in the sense of biological. Ancients often thought in terms of bodily desires, a concept we might compare with our understanding of hormones, libido, and so forth, although today we understand that mind and body are much more closely intertwined than many ancient philosophers, especially in the Platonic tradition, thought. Biological desires themselves serve essential functions, but like our forebears, we would agree at least in principle that they also must be governed and channeled appropriately. Virtuous thinking includes the proper governing of passions.

A CLOSER LOOK

Physical Passions (2:11)19

Most ancient thinkers believed that passions corrupted rational thinking, and that reason should control passions; Jewish apologists, however, often chided gentiles for being ruled by passion, and sometimes they offered Jewish law as a way to achieve genuine mastery over passion.20

Desire

In ordinary conversation people could use the language of “passions” or “desires” positively.21 Nevertheless, many intellectuals considered desire a fundamental evil; thus one philosophically informed second-century orator opines, “The greatest human evil is desire.”22 Many therefore warned against passions and desires;23 such cravings were, they felt, insatiable.24 Many thinkers spoke of slavery to passions and sought freedom from their tyranny.25 Overcoming desire was thus praiseworthy,26 and some philosophers were said to have worked to rid the world of passion.27 The ideal Stoic sage was supposed to lack passions, at least in the form of negative emotions;28 Stoics valued this objective because passion was a kind of impulse not subject to reason.29 Later Platonists warned that passions defiled the soul.30 Even Epicureans affirmed that controlling the passions leads to happiness.31

Stoics counted pleasure (hēdonē) a fundamental form of passion.32 Although ordinary people often must have viewed pleasure positively,33 Stoics treated it as negative or at least not to be valued.34 Many other thinkers also viewed it as negative, especially when embraced in excess.35 Epicureans demurred, valuing pleasure, but this was partly because Epicurus defined it differently from others; Stoics and others often criticized Epicurean views of pleasure.36

A major emphasis in ancient philosophy was how to overcome one’s passions.37 Aristotle’s followers, the Peripatetics, merely wanted to moderate passions, but many others, including Stoics, wanted to eradicate them.38 Philosophers in the Platonist tradition felt that thinking about virtue or the divine, which was pure intellect, would free one from passions.39 Thus one later Platonist emphasized that philosophy should cast passion from the soul, as medicine drives sickness from the body.40

Despite differences among particular schools, most intellectuals agreed that one must use reason, guided by virtue, to control the passions.41 Passions could challenge and overpower reason if the latter were not sufficiently strong.42 Stoics and Platonists alike agreed that one must distinguish real happiness from transient pleasures, and that one learns this discernment by “repeated, deliberate choice, a lifelong struggle for rational mastery.”43 Thus one rhetorical historian concluded that Philosophy “drives away every unseemly and useless emotion,” making reason “more powerful than fear and pain.”44

For Stoics, the process was purely cognitive: genuinely understanding what was true would eradicate the emotions that were tied to false assumptions about what really mattered.45

Although the Stoic approach offered some positive insights that can be used even today in cognitive psychology,46 in practice it also severely underestimated (for all the Stoic emphasis on living according to nature!) the physiological connections between natural bodily instincts and emotion, as well as connections between emotion and reason.47 Modern research has shown that powerful stimuli can alert the brain’s amygdala, generating emergency physical responses, before the signals are even processed by the cortex. Only during processing by the cortex can stimuli be rationally evaluated and, when needed, de-escalated rationally.48

Stoics were nevertheless sensitive to experiences they inevitably encountered when seeking to subject emotion to reason. Recognizing that humans experience physical reactions that precede cognitive judgments, Seneca the Younger counted these reactions “first movements,” a sort of pre-emotion that could be nipped in the bud by rational decisions once one had opportunity to consider them.49 Because Origen misconstrued “first movements” themselves as cognitive, Christians later imagined “many intermediate degrees of sin,” provoking new questions, such as “Did you let it linger? Did you enjoy it?”50 Although such exercises stimulated and developed self-discipline, they probably also often bred fixation on sin. Passions were thought to make people irrational, like beasts,51 and thinkers often compared to beasts those ruled by passions rather than by intellect or virtue.52

The Biological (“Fleshly”) Element versus the Soul

Occasionally earlier Greek sources spoke of the “flesh” (sarx) as worthless.53 Some scholars suggest that the usage stemmed originally from reaction against Epicurus.54 Epicureans claimed that those made of flesh (sarkinon) naturally viewed pleasure positively.55 For a first-century Stoic, the divine consisted purely of reason, not flesh (sarx),56 and excellence belongs to moral purpose rather than to flesh.57 For one second-century Stoic, one should “disdain the flesh: it is naught but gore and bones and a network compact of nerves and veins and arteries.”58 Some later sources warned against descending “into the flesh [sarka].”59

Peter may contrast the human flesh and soul as in many Greek and Hellenistic Jewish circles.60 Among gentiles, although people often spoke loosely of the soul and body together as the entire person,61 and some thinkers treated this as the normal approach,62 other thinkers viewed only the soul as the real person.63 Both popular language64 and philosophic discourse65 usually distinguished soul and body. Thinkers in the Platonic tradition emphasized this distinction most,66 but even Stoics distinguished the soul from the body, regarding the soul as the superior part.67 So did Skeptics, despite regarding most matters as merely convention.68 For Platonists and some others, bodies encased souls as containers, sheaths, stalks, or similar container analogies.69 Plato sees the soul imprisoned in the body “like an oyster in its shell.”70 Philostratus’s Apollonius claims that souls are imprisoned, “bound and fettered in a perishable body,” enslaved to feelings.71

Although many thinkers distinguished the soul from matter, not all did so. Aristotle envisioned the incorporeal soul as merely providing “form” or structure to the matter of the body.72 Both Stoics, the most popular philosophic school in this period, and Epicureans were materialists.73 For Epicureans, the body affects the soul and the soul dies when the body dies.74 For many Stoics, the soul in the body was a particular case of universal divine reason permeating and structuring matter.75 Rather than viewing the body as the soul’s container, Stoics considered the soul intermingled throughout the body.76 The body and the soul cannot but affect each other.77 Whereas their relationship could mean pain at their separation on the Stoic view, an Epicurean could argue that the soul could leave easily through the body’s many pores.78 Even Middle Platonists (those following the form of Platonism dominant in this period) were not always fully Cartesian dualists. Sometimes they associated the rational soul with fire, so that the soul was a substance, merely lighter and purer than the body.79

Many intellectuals viewed the soul as intrinsically good80 or even divine81 and heavenly.82 Some felt that the soul was of heavenly substance, merely weighted down with harmful emotions because of the body.83

Many argue that the OT holistic approach persisted in early Judaism.84 Although this observation appears true for most of greater Judea, it was not true for all Jews, whether in Judea or, particularly, in the Mediterranean Diaspora.85 Josephus, for example, a Judean later writing in the Diaspora, views the soul as afflicted by the body’s defilements until freed from the body at death.86 He claims to have urged fellow Judeans to recognize that God had given each person an immortal soul, a portion of the divine.87 He depicts (presumably imaginatively) a Judean revolutionary exhorting his fellow Judeans to view the soul as imprisoned in the body.88

From the Diaspora, the Wisdom of Solomon notes that “the perishable body weighs down the soul.”89 Writing before Peter, Philo of Alexandria distinguishes body from soul or (often more meaningfully) from the mind scores of times.90 For Philo, the mind is the soul’s soul, so to speak.91 Philo emphasizes that humans are created not only from earthly substance but also from the divine breath.92 He often emphasizes the soul’s invisibility,93 which marks its kinship with the invisible God,94 as the image of the invisible God.95

Peter’s More Judean Approach

Despite the contrast between flesh and human soul in 1 Pet. 2:11, however, Peter elsewhere contrasts flesh and God’s Spirit in a more typical Judean manner (1 Pet. 3:18; 4:6). This observation qualifies observations concerning the Hellenistic character of his approach for his Diaspora audience. Scholars sometimes have jumped too quickly from the usual OT holistic usage to NT usage96 as if NT writers were simply writing to ancient Israelites using equivalent Greek terms.97 Against the expectations of some, when the LXX uses sōma, it normally does so with physical connotations.98 Jewish sources sometimes commented on the difference between bodily and nonbodily parts or aspects of a person;99 thus, for example, a Tanna attributed the soul to heaven and the body to earth.100

Peter’s usage fits wider early Christian usage. Despite some similarities of language elsewhere, Paul’s contrasting use of “flesh” and “Spirit” in Rom. 8:4–6, 9, 13,101 reflects especially his background in Judean thought, such as in the Dead Sea Scrolls.102 The contrast appears in the OT in Isa. 31:3 but most notably in Gen. 6:3,103 a highly influential section of Scripture104 (including for 1 Peter; see 3:19–20). In these sources the contrast is between humanity as flesh (like other mortal creatures) and God’s own Spirit.105 In the OT, humans as flesh were mortal and prone to weakness.106

Paul often uses “flesh” as weakness107 but also goes somewhat further,108 yet in a way consistent with some Jewish circles’ development of the language. Unlike some other early Jewish sources,109 the Qumran scrolls develop the sense of weakness in a moral direction, including susceptibility to sin,110 a sense that the equivalent Greek term often bears in Paul’s letters.111 Clearly when Paul contrasts flesh and the Spirit in Rom. 8:4–9, 13, he speaks of God’s Spirit, as the full context shows elsewhere in his usage (cf. also Rom. 1:3–4; 7:6; 1 Cor. 5:5; Gal. 3:3; 4:29; 5:17; 6:8), the clear exceptions being 2 Cor. 7:1 and Col. 2:5.112

Educated ancient hearers would understand Peter’s figurative military language regarding the challenge of passions. Thus Socrates could be deemed a fellow warrior against passions.113 The Cynic tradition also valued warring against passions; one philosopher writes, “If you are trying to subdue the human passions, summon me, for I can wage war against these just like a general.”114 Note also:

Fleshly passions (2:11) resemble gentile behavior (4:2–4). Self-centered passions also are not inclined to submit to or respect others (2:13–17). Abstention from some fleshly passions may inflame outsiders’ hostile perceptions (4:4), but believers can best respond to such perceptions, silencing hostile slanders (2:12), by self-controlled submission and respect (2:13).

2:12

Many might slander Christ-followers as wrongdoers (2:12); this term and its verbal cognate surface also in 2:14; 3:17; and 4:15, which together constitute 57 percent of NT uses.124 The phrase “among the gentiles” is very common in the Septuagint, sometimes for Israel’s dispersion there.125 “Good works” (kaloi ergoi) became a common phrase in early Christianity;126 others glorifying God because of believers’ good works may well echo Jesus’s saying in Matt. 5:16.127 Day when he comes uses a Greek phrase (hēmera episkopēs, “the day of visitation”) found in the LXX of Isa. 10:3 for the day of judgment (cf. the similar phrase in Luke 19:44).128

By maintaining honorable behavior (Peter repeatedly uses the term anastrophē to refer to behavior; 1:15, 18; 2:12; 3:1–2, 16; the cognate verb in 1:17), they can challenge outsiders’ slanders (again, 3:16). The idea of seeing works of Jesus’s followers and so glorifying God is not unique to Peter (Matt. 5:16), but Peter alone in the NT uses this verb (epopteuō) for nonbelievers observing and responding to Christian behavior (2:12; 3:2).129 Sometimes this lifestyle witness proved effective. Justin Martyr, for example, was later converted through witnessing Christians’ lack of fear in the face of death.130

This is not a promise of nonbelievers’ conversion (cf. 1 Cor. 7:16), but it is a strategy for it, and an expectation that at the very least the effort will be vindicated, and God glorified, on the day of judgment. When he comes is literally “in the day of visitation.” The exact phrase appears in LXX Isa. 10:3 for “the day of punishment,” and Jewish thinkers continued to speak of judgment (CD 8.2) and exaltation (Wis. 3:7) in the time of God’s visitation.

Submit to the World’s Authorities (2:13–17)

2:13

Submit to every human system for the Lord’s sake, whether to the king as supreme in rank;

2:14

or to governors, whom God sends to punish people who do wrong and to praise those who do good.

2:15

This is what God wants: by doing good you may silence the ignorance of foolish people.

2:16

So live as people who are free, but don’t use “freedom” as a cloak for wrong, but live as people who are God’s slaves.

2:17

Honor everyone! Love the spiritual family—your brothers and sisters in Christ! Reverence God! Honor the king.

One should not act like the world, as if one belongs to it (2:11–12). But neither should one provoke nongospel offense by failing to submit to its laws or by disrespecting its leaders (cf. 2:13–18; 3:1).131 Such status may not matter in light of eternity,132 but those who live in the world need to follow its demands that do not contradict faith. In modern idiom, believers must choose their battles, and this is not one we need to fight. If human respect does not ultimately matter, then neither does it cost us anything to offer it to those who desire it.

The point is not such that believers in positions of authority should flaunt it; most of Peter’s audience lack such positions, but even those who do hold socially superior positions should use them to serve (5:3). Although believers should submit to human systems in which they are foreigners, they do so not because all these systems are intrinsically just, but for the Lord’s honor—for the Lord’s sake (2:13). They do this to silence critics of the faith (2:12, 15) and bring nonbelievers to the faith (3:1; cf. 1 Tim. 3:7; 5:14; 6:1; Titus 2:5, 8, 10). They are a minority within the wider society and therefore must seek to avoid offense;133 the greatest offense of minority cults in Rome was their potential to subvert traditional social structures. It may also be no coincidence that two of the major sets of household codes in the NT may imply a Roman provenance (Eph. 5:22–6:9; Col. 3:18–4:1), and the most explicit call to submission to authorities appears in a letter addressed to believers in Rome (Rom. 13:1–7, esp. hupotassō in 13:1).

Some also used such instructions as a necessary apologetic tool. Given the sometimes defiant speech of Cynics, the Stoic Epictetus explains that philosophers do not teach people to despise kings.134 The issue was acute for Jews, especially among many elite Romans.135 Thus one later Roman complaint about converts to Judaism (i.e., those who became “Judeans”) was that they immediately learned “to despise the gods, to disown their country, and to regard their parents, children, and brothers as of little account.”136 Responding to anti-Jewish slanders, Josephus thus emphasizes that while Moses forbade idolatry, he did not forbid respect or honors for Roman authority.137 Moses allows honors for officials—just not images, or honors equivalent to those offered to God.138 They thus offer daily sacrifices for the emperors at Jewish expense.139

A CLOSER LOOK

Roman Aristocratic Fears of Anti-traditional Groups140

The Roman aristocracy felt their power base increasingly threatened by social changes occurring around them. The changes included upward mobility of socially inferior elements, such as foreigners, women, and former slaves. Foreign religions were sometimes suspected of aiding what the aristocrats viewed as a subversion of the appropriate moral order.141

The recognized guardians of traditional Roman values, Roman aristocratic men, were uneasy about “new” religions from the East that seemed to challenge standard values such as the honorable man’s sober guidance of his family. Juvenal’s oft-cited complaint about the influx of foreign culture and superstition reflects the feelings of many well-to-do Roman men: “The Syrian Orontes has long since poured into the Tiber.”142 This became an issue all the more when some members of eastern cults began converting Romans to those beliefs.143

Although Roman policy tolerated foreign religions on those cults’ own soil, some religions were initially treated as too disruptive for Rome itself.144 Elite Romans valued seriousness and duty, and emotionalistic cults threatened Roman notions of respectability. Roman citizens were thus officially restricted from the cult of Cybele until the time of Claudius,145 who was emperor from 41 to 54.

Egyptian cults, like that of Isis,146 gained in popularity over time,147 but became acceptable in Rome only shortly before the middle of the first century.148 They gained prominence in Rome only in the period of the Flavians—that is, after Peter’s death.149 Greeks too could be traditionally inhospitable to foreign cults,150 but Rome, where secret meetings were suspect, proved singularly resistant. The Isis cult was persecuted there as late as the early first century CE.151

Enemies of various foreign religions sometimes mixed them up. Some critics even associated Judaism with Dionysiac revelry!152 Since Roman authorities easily mixed up Christians with other forms of Jewish practice,153 their attitude toward Judaism tells us much about their likely attitude toward Christians as well.154

In the early and mid-first century CE, scandals concerning Isis worshipers and Jews in Rome made them appear subversive and led to repressive measures.155 Ancient sources that report these events link them,156 as does an important similarity: a male representative of the offending religion took advantage of a respectable Roman matron. Anti-Jewish slanders continued in Rome (alongside more favorable views) in subsequent generations.157 Converting aristocrats’ wives (cf. 1 Pet. 3:1–2) could spark anxiety and resentment.

Rome protected Jewish rights throughout much of the empire, even in Alexandria158 (which harbored a much larger Jewish population and much more virulent anti-Judaism than Rome).159 But in Rome itself, the success of Jewish proselytism seems to have threatened the traditional Roman establishment.160 Women were attracted and converted to Judaism more often than men were,161 and men resented the turning of wives from their husbands’ gods (cf. 1 Pet. 3:1).162 The Roman aristocracy worked to protect its own social boundaries, including from encroachments by freedpersons163 and by demanding proper aristocratic marriages.164

2:13

After speaking of submitting to every human system (2:13), Peter offers examples.165 Ancient elites naturally promoted the ideal of submission to authorities,166 although even those who urged it might qualify it for special circumstances.167 Ancient writers often narrated household codes—that is, instructions for ideal relationships in households, diverse in form but functionally similar to 1 Pet. 2:18–3:7.168 (Unlike NT examples, however, most surviving examples directly instruct only the male householder.) Sometimes, as here, these household codes appear in a broader set of relational instructions that include civic duties or principles for civic management. Although different from governing the state,169 household management was linked with it.170 Thus Stoics, for example, moved from moral instructions in relation to one’s country171 to familial relationships,172 such as how to treat siblings.173 More generally, love of one’s country was a high virtue.174 One could also summarize exhortations to submission more succinctly, as, for example, in Euripides: “There are three virtues you should practise, child; to honour the gods, the parents who begot you, and the common laws of Greece.”175

A CLOSER LOOK

Household Codes176

Many Greek thinkers liked to define relationships, although other social conventions suggest that these codes were not always implemented literalistically.177 Aristotle’s household codes address especially three pairs of relationships: the male householder’s relationship with wife, child, and slave, in each case defining the nature of the father’s rule. “Household management falls into departments corresponding to the parts of which the household . . . is composed. . . . The primary and smallest parts of the household are master and slave, husband and wife, father and children.”178 Aristotle’s philosophical followers preserved this threefold format, and some other writers adopted it as well.179 Of course, not all writers on domestic relationships chose to follow the same pattern.

Stoics sometimes adapted these codes,180 and laws also included such categories.181 “Family” was defined more by relationships of subordination than by blood relationship.182 The man in charge of the household was often even compared to a king, since the family was viewed as a microcosm of society.183

It was important that propagandists for “suspicious sects” such as Judaism and the cult of Isis emphasize their pro-family orientation. They often did so, and in so doing occasionally resorted specifically to three-part household codes. Thus, for example, an Isis aretalogy, probably directed toward the average kind of family which did not have slaves, emphasizes proper child-parent and husband-wife relationships.184

It was likewise natural for Greek-speaking Jewish writers, who were very sensitive to their public reputation,185 to dwell on the proper ways to act in various relationships.186 To the extent that they needed to demonstrate their lack of subversiveness to Roman society, the use of household codes became all the more important.187 Demonstrating the “orthodox” character of their family practices would refute a common charge leveled against them.188 Josephus, for example, includes the three-part household code pattern in his defense of Judaism against Apion, one of its slanderers.189 Philo’s treatment of relationships also echoes Hellenistic discussions,190 even the threefold authority of the householder over wife, children, and slaves.191

Early Christian household codes192 may have served the same apologetic purpose: to show that Christians were good members of society, not seeking to radically overturn Roman social structures.193 Other groups through history have adapted similar strategies to counter charges of social subversiveness.194 While recognizing the wrongness of unjust systems, believers must sometimes work within the constraints of a hostile system because it remains the best available option.195 Still, these codes adapt moral instruction in a specifically Christian direction;196 all believers are called to submit or serve (Mark 10:43–44; Eph. 5:21; 1 Pet. 5:5), introducing a fairly distinctive form of mutuality.197

Peter’s relational instructions include but are not limited to wives and slaves; he addresses youth and elders only later (1 Pet. 5:5). Peter’s first example is submission to the king; this example in fact brackets the paragraph (2:13, 17). Rome ruled some client kingdoms, which once included some of the provinces named in 1:1;198 a letter to Ephesus also enjoins prayer for kings and all of high rank (1 Tim. 2:2, using language similar to here; cf. Titus 3:1). Most residents in Roman Asia, however, would envision also the emperor, although in Rome the emperor himself claimed to be merely princeps, “first citizen.”199 The emperor would also be in view here if one dispatching governors refers to a king doing so (2:14), though it more likely refers to God doing so. Respect for kings was an ancient moral expectation,200 and an orator in the later empire could even speak of the two greatest expectations (contrast Mark 12:29–31) as “piety towards the divine and honour to emperors.”201 Jews and Christians in the Diaspora did honor the emperor, though, unlike many gentiles, not as a deity;202 for the Lord’s sake would implicitly limit submission when it violated obedience to God.203

2:14–15

Some provinces were under direct control of the emperor, and others under direct supervision of the senate. Even if “governors . . . sent from him” (2:14) means those sent by the emperor, the principle of respecting governors would apply in both cases. Much more likely, however, it refers to governors whom God sends for this purpose; Rom. 13:3 speaks of leaders praising those who do right, as here,204 and Rom. 13:4 also speaks of leaders as executing God’s will by enacting vengeance on wrongdoers. Provinces, especially those whose leaders appreciated Roman rule, were often lavish in praising their governors.205 People might slander believers as wrongdoers (1 Pet. 2:12), but by being good-doers instead they should merit praise from governors (2:14), and so refute the false accusations (2:15).206 Even in court, a person’s prior reputation would weight the case for or against them.207

Again, Peter offers a strategy rather than a promise; he is aware that believers may suffer, but he urges that it is better to suffer as a good-doer than as a wrongdoer (3:17, using the same verb). Although it is God’s will (This is what God wants) for them to silence accusers by good deeds (2:15),208 Peter explicitly allows that God might will them to suffer for doing good (3:17; 4:19). Critics are ignorant of the truth (2:15), but this is no surprise: so were believers before their faith (1:14).

These governors would also expect the forms of the submission elaborated in 2:18–3:6, on the principle that a household is a microcosm of the city,209 so that “insubordination in one led to insubordination in the other.”210 As Cicero contends, “The first bond of union is that between husband and wife; the next, that between parents and children; then we find one home, with everything in common. And this is the foundation of civil government.”211

2:16

The Greek participle in 2:16 suggests that the thought of the preceding context continues. Although believers should act212 as free (2:16),213 Peter speaks of moral freedom to do good; he is well aware that many of his hearers are slaves (2:18). (He could address only free persons in 2:16 before addressing slaves in 2:18, but 2:17 continues the summary of public responsibilities.) Paul also offers the paradox of Christian freedom: slaves are freedpersons in Christ, and free persons are also slaves (1 Cor. 7:22; cf. Rom. 6:18, 22). Early Christians warned against abusing freedom in Christ for wrongdoing (1 Cor. 6:12–13; Gal. 5:13; Jude 4).

Everyone understood that people sometimes twisted liberty into license.214 Josephus, for example, condemns someone who exploited supposed “liberation” from Moses’s “tyranny” as an excuse for moral license.215 Speakers thus often warned against abusing freedom; true freedom, Dio Chrysostom opined, is knowledge of and choosing what is appropriate, rather than license to follow mere desires.216 As in the case of “free” cities, freedom meant a high degree of self-governance rather than external constraint.217 Many thinkers also regarded freedom from selfish passion as needed for the sake of corporate welfare.218

A CLOSER LOOK

Ancient Images of Freedom and Slavery219

In Diaspora sources, “compulsion” (1 Pet. 5:2) often contrasts with “freedom” (2:16).220 Freedom often included freedom of speech.221 Greek ideals of freedom differed somewhat from modern conceptions.222 Many ancient writers applied the terms for freedom and bondage in their national or political sense223—for example, subjection to or freedom from absolute monarchs224 or other peoples.225

For many Greek thinkers, simplicity and lack of dependence on others was a form of freedom.226 Divine truth “freed” truth-seekers from slavery to worldly concerns.227 Thus internal freedom relativized the significance of one’s natural state;228 freedom of the soul enabled one to ignore external troubles.229 Wisdom or knowledge230 and virtue231 brought such freedom, just as falsehood produced enslavement.232 Greek thinkers quite often warned against being enslaved by false ideologies233 or, most often, by passions.234

Jewish teachers also used the language in regard to political bondage.235 Thus the followers of Judas the Galilean expressed an irrepressible yearning for freedom because they affirmed only God as their master.236 In a different way, Philo claimed that the one who serves God alone is the only one who is free.237 For Judean teachers, the Torah brought freedom, whether freedom from worldly cares, from national bondage, or from slavery in the coming world.238

Some Jews might think of freedom in terms of nationalistic liberation, recalling fondly the Maccabean resistance.239 Jews could envision eschatological liberation; gentiles might also connect this terminology with political freedom. In the Septuagint, freedom (eleutheria) applies to political freedom240 and slaves’ freedom.241 Josephus often uses the term politically,242 including for deliverance from Egypt;243 God grants political liberty for obedience to laws,244 and freedom includes freedom to practice God’s laws.245 Philo applies it to liberation from passion (cf. 1 Pet. 2:11)246 and for reasoning not bound to the body but rather liberated (eleutheroō) from its constraints.247

2:17

As was familiar in paraenesis,248 a moral writer could offer disconnected, short exhortations one after another.249 Most of those in 1 Pet. 2:17 address the same subject of honor.250 Ancient audiences would understand the connections in a series of exhortations for submission to both people and God:

Honor everyone could mean give honor to those who expect it (cf. Rom. 13:7), but more likely means respect for genuinely everyone (cf. believers in Rom. 12:10; Eph. 5:21).255 Peter again urges mutual love (as in 1 Pet. 1:22); this theme appears too important not to repeat (see also 4:8; 5:14). Its inclusion in a brief series of commands about respect demonstrates the degree to which Peter associates love with showing respect (cf. also 3:7). As he speaks of familial love (philadelphia) in 1:22, so in these two passages and in 5:9 he speaks of the family, the siblinghood (adelphotēs, only here in the NT).256

Reverencing God constituted the fundamental characteristic of Jewish wisdom: living in light of the true God’s reality and recognizing that we must give account for all that we do.257 Biblically, respecting God and the king (in the OT, the king of Israel) would normally coincide (Exod. 22:28; Prov. 24:21).

Concluding his briefer social exhortations, Peter emphatically returns to the king,258 who for his primary audience would represent the emperor. Like Jews, Christians could not worship the emperor; but they could honor him.259 Avoiding emperor worship could lead to charges of disloyalty in some cities if it were conspicuous; Christians should avoid grounds for accusation. (In most cities, unless an accusation was brought to them, officials would not notice anyone’s absence from public festivals; if accused of disloyalty to Caesar, however, Christians could not confirm their loyalty by venerating Caesar’s image.)260

Different levels of “fear” existed, even toward rulers. Thus one first-century Stoic thinker observes, “Toward subjects one should strive to be regarded with awe rather than with fear [phoberon]. Reverence [semnotēs] attends the one, bitterness the other.”261 Nor did all persons to be honored merit equal honor. A pre-Christian Jewish sage acknowledges, “Great men, judges, and powerful men are to be glorified,” but notes that no one is “greater than the one who fears the Lord” (Sir. 10:24). Compare also a later Jewish exhortation to maintain the fear of God and honor one’s siblings (T. Jos. 11:1).

1. See esp. Balch, “Criticism.” Smith (Strangers, 79) rightly differentiates in 1 Peter human structures from God’s.

2. Rom. 12:19; 1 Cor. 10:14; 15:58; 2 Cor. 7:1; 12:19; Phil. 2:12; 4:1; Heb. 6:9; James 1:16, 19; 2:5; 2 Pet. 3:8, 14, 17; 1 John 2:7; 3:2, 21; 4:1, 7, 11; 3 John 2, 5, 11; Jude 3, 17, 20; 1 Clem. 1:1; 7:1; 12:8; 16:17; 21:1; 24:1–2; 35:1, 5; 36:1; 43:6; 47:6; 50:1, 5; 53:1; 56:2, 16; Ignatius, Magn. 11:1; Smyrn. 4:1.

3. It is absent in Philo, Josephus, and the LXX apart from a nonsubstantival use in manuscripts of Tob. 10:13. It appears commonly in the Greek Apocalypse of Ezra (5:12; 6:3, 16; 7:1, 13) and the Apocalypse of Sedrach (1:1; 3:1; 13:6), but these are much later, Christian or Christianized works. Its appearances in T. Sim. 4:7; T. Ab. 4:1; 7:1; 20:15 A; 7:3 B; 4 Bar. 7:24 are also nonsubstantival.

4. Elliott (Peter, 458–59) distinguishes parepidēmoi, “most often” referring to “the temporary visitor,” from paroikoi, used esp. for resident aliens. But on 459–60 he also rightly notes the biblical allusions in the combined phrase; these allusions probably reinforce the general image rather than the terms carrying distinctive meanings (cf. Michaels, Peter, 7).

5. Circumstances such as persecution can reinforce socially distinctive identity, but locations that encourage assimilation can dilute such identity if its possessors do not remain vigilant.

6. This use of apechō appears also in Sir. 28:8; Wis. 2:16; 4 Macc. 1:34; Acts 15:29; 1 Thess. 4:3; 5:22.

7. Smith, Strangers, 166 (more fully, see 87–162).

8. Smith, Strangers, 117–39.

9. Smith, Strangers, 141–62.

10. Exod. 22:21; 23:9, 12; Lev. 16:29; 19:33–34; 23:22; 24:22; 25:6; Num. 15:14–16, 26–30; 35:15; Deut. 1:16; 5:14; 10:18–19; 24:14, 17, 19–21; Jer. 7:6; 22:3; Zech. 7:10; Mal. 3:5. I include prosēlutos in some of these lists.

11. Exod. 12:45; Lev. 25:45; Deut. 14:21a; cf. 2 Sam. 1:13–15.

12. Cf. LXX 1 Chron. 29:15; Ps. 38:13 (ET 39:12). The same expression occurs for actual foreigner noncitizens among them (Num. 35:15).

13. Cicero, Mil. 37.101 (trans. Watts, LCL, 14:119).

14. Sallust, Catil. 2.8.

15. Philo, Creation 165. Philo lived in a time of interethnic tension in Alexandria, probably partly over Jewish agitation regarding citizenship (see CPJ 2:36–55, §153 = P.Lond. 1912, esp. 1912.88–98; BGU 1079.23–26; Bell, “Egypt,” 308–12; Feldman, “Pro-Jewish Intimations”; Ben Zeev, “New Perspectives”; Barclay, Jews in Diaspora, 58–71).

16. Philo, Heir 267–68.

17. Philo, Confusion 77.

18. Bede, Commentary, 70, on 1 Pet. 1:1.

19. From Keener, Mind, 19–23. Early Christian commentators insisted on the soul distancing “itself from bodily passions” (Didymus the Blind, Comm. 1 Pet. [PG 39:1765; Bray, Peter, 90]).

20. Stowers, “Self-Mastery,” 531–34. For some NT writers, “only identification with Christ . . . can bring about sinlessness and self-mastery” (Stowers, “Self-Mastery,” 536; cf. Stowers, Rereading, 82).

21. E.g., Aelius Aristides, Def. Or. 432, §146D–147D; Phil. 1:23; 1 Thess. 2:17. Cf. desire for wisdom in Wis. 6:13–20, esp. 6:13, 20.

22. Maximus of Tyre, Or. 24.4 (trans. Trapp, Maximus, 203); cf. Apoc. Mos. 19:3. For the sake of brevity, I am treating together epithumia, which is used in 1 Pet. 2:11, and the passion sense of pathos, much rarer in the NT (only Rom. 1:26; Col. 3:5; 1 Thess. 4:5).

23. E.g., Epictetus, Diatr. 2.1.10; Iamblichus, Vit. pyth. 31.187; Porphyry, Marc. 27.438.

24. Galen, Grief 42–44, 80; Iamblichus, Vit. pyth. 31.206; Porphyry, Marc. 29.457–60; cf. Dionysius of Halicarnassus, Rom. Ant. 9.52.6; Maximus of Tyre, Or. 36.4. Passions spawned all crimes (Cicero, Sen. 12.40) and illnesses of the soul (Porphyry, Marc. 9.157–58). Vice proliferates passion (Lucian, Nigr. 16), and one can become psychologically ill through addiction to pleasures (Arius Didymus, Epit. 2.7.10e, p. 62.20–23).

25. Xenophon, Oec. 1.22; Musonius Rufus, 3, p. 40.19; Pliny Y., Ep. 8.22.1; Plutarch, Bride 33, Mor. 142E; Arius Didymus, Epit. 2.7.10a, p. 58.15; Iamblichus, Ep. 3, frg. 3.4–6 (Stobaeus, Anth. 3.5.46); Porphyry, Marc. 34.522–25; 4 Macc. 13:2; T. Jos. 7:8; T. Ash. 3:2; pleasure in Maximus of Tyre, Or. 25.5–6; 33.3; 36.4.

26. Xenophon, Hell. 4.8.22; Polybius, Hist. 31.25.8; Publilius Syrus, Sent. 40, 181; Dio Chrysostom, Or. 8.20; 9.12; T. Reu. 4:9; Josephus, Ant. 4.328–29. Alexander as an example (as in Arrian, Anab. 7.28.2) was not possible outside eulogy (Seneca Y., Lucil. 113.29–31; Plutarch, Flatterer 25, Mor. 65F; Dio Chrysostom, Or. 4.4, 60; cf. b. Tamid 32a).

27. Apuleius, Flor. 14.3–4, on Crates the Cynic.

28. Engberg-Pedersen, “Vices,” 612–13. For a Stoic list of negative expressions of desire, see Arius Didymus, Epit. 2.7.10b, pp. 58.32–60.1. Controlling emotion naturally appealed to Roman traditions of discipline (see, e.g., Valerius Maximus, Mem. 4.1.pref.; 4.1.13).

29. Arius Didymus, Epit. 2.7.10, p. 56.1–4; 2.7.10a, p. 56.24–25; 2.7.10b, p. 58.17–18. As a type of passion, pleasure also disobeyed reason (2.7.10b, p. 58.29).

30. Porphyry, Marc. 13.236–37.

31. Cicero, Fin. 1.18.57–58.

32. Arius Didymus, Epit. 2.7.10, p. 56.6–7; see also Engberg-Pedersen, Paul and Stoics, 311n32.

33. E.g., Achilles Tatius, Leuc. Clit. 2.8.3. On positive Epicurean views of pleasure, see, e.g., Cicero, Fin. 1.9.29; Plutarch, R. Col. 27, Mor. 1122D; Athenaeus, Deipn. 12.546e; Long, Philosophy, 61–69; Klauck, Context, 395–98. Epicurus’s own views appear more moderate; see Cicero, Tusc. 3.21.50; Diogenes Laertius, Lives 10.145–20. For intellectual pleasures in Plato, see Lodge, Ethics, 27–31.

34. Negatively, e.g., Cicero, Fin. 2.12.35–2.13.43; Seneca Y., Lucil. 59.1; Dial. 7.11.1; Arius Didymus, Epit. 2.7.10, p. 56.13–18; 2.7.10b, p. 60.1–2. Earlier Stoic tradition apparently viewed it among indifferents; see Arius Didymus, Epit. 2.7.5a, p. 10.12–13; as not a good, Musonius Rufus, 1, p. 32.22; at least when associated with what is dishonorable, Musonius Rufus, 12, p. 86.27–29; frg. 51, p. 144.8–9; see Brennan, “Theory,” 61–62n31.

35. E.g., Xenophon, Mem. 1.2.23–24; 4.5.3; Hell. 4.8.22; Cicero, Sen. 12.40; Dio Chrysostom, Or. 1.13; 3.34; 8.20; Pliny Y., Ep. 5.5.4; Plutarch, Bride 33, Mor. 142E; Maximus of Tyre, Or. 7.7; 14.1–2; 25.5–6; 33.3–8; 38.6; Menander Rhetor, Treat. 2.10, 416.19; Proclus, Poet. 6.1, K121.14–15; Iamblichus, Vit. pyth. 31.204–6; Libanius, Comp. 1.7–8; 5.7; Speech 16.2; Porphyry, Marc. 6.103–8; 7.125–26, 131–34; 33.508–9; 35.535–36.

36. For Stoic criticisms, see Cicero, Fin. bk. 2, esp. 2.4.11–2.6.18; Arius Didymus, Epit. 2.7.10a, p. 58.8–11; for others’ criticisms, see, e.g., Cicero, Pis. 28.68–69; Aulus Gellius, Att. 9.5; Maximus of Tyre, Or. 30–33, esp. 30.3–5; 31; 33; Galen, Grief 62, 68. See also Keener, Acts, 3:2584–93 on Epicureans, and 2593–95 on Stoicism. Cf. Seneca the Younger’s attack on the Epicurean goal of pleasure in Dyson, “Pleasure” (on De vita beata 11.1).

37. See, e.g., Xenophon, Mem. 1.2.24; Valerius Maximus, Mem. 3.3.ext. 1; Musonius Rufus, 6, p. 52.15–17; 7, p. 56.27; 12, pp. 86.39–88.1; Maximus of Tyre, Or. 1.9; 7.7; 25.6; Iamblichus, Ep. 3, frg. 3 (Stobaeus, Anth. 3.5.46); Porphyry, Marc. 31.479–81; Let. Aris. 256; 4 Macc. 13:1; Malherbe, “Beasts.” Control of oneself was the greatest conquest (Seneca Y., Nat. 1.pref. 5; 3.pref. 10; Lucil. 113.29–31; Publilius Syrus, Sent. 137; Prov. 16:32; cf. Xenophon, Mem. 1.5.1).

38. Tobin, Rhetoric in Contexts, 229; Dillon, “Philosophy,” 796. In 4 Macc. 3:2–5, reason expressly controls and fights passions rather than eradicates them.

39. E.g., Philo, Sacrifices 45.

40. Porphyry, Marc. 31.483.

41. Cicero, Inv. 2.54.164; Off. 2.5.18; Leg. 1.23.60; Sallust, Catil. 51.3; Plutarch, Lect. 1, Mor. 37E; Maximus of Tyre, Or. 33.3; Porphyry, Marc. 6.99; 29.453–60; 31.478–83; 34.521–22; cf. in other cultures, e.g., traditional Morocco (Eickelman, Middle East, 205). For reason ruling the senses, see Seneca Y., Lucil. 66.32.

42. Dionysius of Halicarnassus, Rom. Ant. 5.8.6; Cicero, Sen. 12.40; Chariton, Chaer. 2.4.4; Arius Didymus, Epit. 2.7.10a, p. 58.5–6, 12–16; Marcus Aurelius, Medit. 3.6.2; Porphyry, Marc. 9.154–55; for passions as a distraction from attention to God, see Maximus of Tyre, Or. 11.10. One or the other would be in control, with passion being more feminine (Maximus of Tyre, Or. 33.2, from an androcentric perspective; cf. Philo, Unchangeable 111). Greek thinkers associated passion both with females and with barbarians; see McCoskey, Race, 56 (for barbarians as like beasts, e.g., Libanius, Invect. 2.1; Topics 2.6).

43. Meeks, Moral World, 47.

44. Valerius Maximus, Mem. 3.3.ext. 1 (trans. Bailey, LCL, 1:275).

45. See Sorabji, Emotion, 2–4; Stowers, “Self-Mastery,” 540; Epictetus, Diatr. 1.28.6. Cf., however, Arius Didymus, Epit. 2.7.10a, p. 58.11–16, where passions overpower teaching.

46. As with the limitations of Stoicism (Sorabji, Emotion, 153–54), cognitive therapy when used by itself is more useful for some disorders than others (e.g., for reducing phobias but not helpful for anorexia, 155).

47. For the connections between emotion and reason in modern psychology, see discussion in Elliott, Feelings.

48. Sorabji, Emotion, 6, 144–55 (esp. 145–50). Galen viewed emotion as flowing from bodily states (see esp. 253–62). The Stoic emphasis on indifference is not natural or desirable for modern therapy (169–80).

49. Sorabji, Emotion, 2–5. Seneca would have included among such first movements the involuntary stimulation of male organs, more rapid respiration when provoked, loss of color when startled, and the like (11). Such “first movements” become problematic only if, once wrong judgments are identified, one chooses them, allowing emotion to become worse (see more fully 55–65). Thus if one assents to the movement rather than preferring reason, it becomes full-fledged emotion (73); but it is not a matter of choice so long as it remains involuntary, like anything that befalls the body (73–74, citing Seneca Y., Ira 2.2.1–2.4.2). Earlier Posidonius, who felt that judgments were not always necessary for emotion to occur (Sorabji, Emotion, 121–32; cf. others in 133, 142), accepted something like first movements, but without denying that they involved some emotion (118–19).

50. Sorabji, Emotion, 8–9 (quotations from 9); more fully, 343–56 (on Origen, esp. 346–51). This led further to the seven cardinal sins (357–71) and Augustine’s philosophic and linguistic misunderstanding of Stoics regarding emotion, through which sin was thought to pervade every layer of one’s being (372–84). Though respecting Augustine, Sorabji prefers Pelagius’s approach to lust (417); monasticism’s legacy in parts of Europe may have contributed to Freud’s interest in repressed passions.

51. Iamblichus, Ep. 3, frg. 3.4–6 (Stobaeus, Anth. 3.5.46; cf. Ep. 13, frg. 1, line 18, in Stobaeus, Anth. 2.2.6).

52. Philosophers sometimes depicted the passions as beasts (Malherbe, Philosophers, 82–89; cf. the body in Maximus of Tyre, Or. 7.5), but even more often intellectuals so depicted those ruled by passions (e.g., Xenophon, Hier. 7.3; Mem. 1.2.30; Rhet. Alex. pref. 1420ab.4–5; Polybius, Hist. 1.80.10; Cicero, Mil. 12.32; 31.85; Pis. 1.1; Seneca Y., Lucil. 103.2; Musonius Rufus, 10, p. 78.27–28; 14, p. 92.21; 18B, p. 116.14; Epictetus, Diatr. 1.3.7, 9; 2.9.3, 5; 4.1.127; 4.5.21; Dio Chrysostom, Or. 8.14, 21; 32.26; 77/78.29; Plutarch, Demosth. 26.4; Bride 7, Mor. 139B; R. Col. 2, Mor. 1108D; Pseudo-Diogenes, Ep. 28; Maximus of Tyre, Or. 15.2; 33.7–8; Marcus Aurelius, Medit. 3.16; Philodemus, Death 35.14–15; Crit. frg. 52.2–3; Philostratus, Vit. Apoll. 7.30; Libanius, Anec. 2.1). Animals’ souls, unlike those of humans, were usually deemed devoid of reason (e.g., Polybius, Hist. 6.6.4; Cicero, Fin. 2.14.45; Tusc. 1.33.80; Off. 1.4.11; Diogenes Laertius, Lives 7.1.85–86).

53. Despite the partly correct warning about later usage in Davies, Paul, 18. For hulē (matter) and psuchē, see, e.g., Philo, Posterity 61.

54. Epicurus sometimes applied sarx to the location of desire (Schweizer, “Σάρξ,” 103), often followed by Hellenistic Judaism (105).

55. Plutarch, R. Col. 27, Mor. 1122D. Plutarch also complains of those who view the entire person as fleshly—i.e., bodily (Plutarch, Pleas. Life 14, Mor. 1096E)—and notes that the flesh by nature is susceptible to disease (Pleas. Life 6, Mor. 1090EF). But even as late as Porphyry, Marc. 29.453–57, negative “flesh” pertains primarily to externals, so the issue is more “body” and especially “matter.”

56. Epictetus, Diatr. 2.8.2.

57. Epictetus, Diatr. 2.23.30; cf. similarly 3.7.2–3, also against an Epicurean.

58. Marcus Aurelius, Medit. 2.2 (trans. Haines, LCL, pp. 26–27).

59. Porphyry, Marc. 9.172–73 (trans. O’Brien Wicker, 55); instead, one should flee from the body (10.176), gathering the dispersed elements of one’s soul up from the body (10.180–83).

60. The following material comes from Keener, Mind, 268–76.

61. Perhaps Livy, Hist. 28.15.6; 28.19.13; Philostratus, Her. 27.10. Seneca the Younger’s soul is part of his person in Lucil. 113.5.

62. Musonius Rufus, 6, p. 54.3–4; Marcus Aurelius, Medit. 5.13; 6.32; for animals, see Hierocles, Ethics 4.39–40.

63. Plato, Phaedo 115D; Epictetus, Diatr. 1.1.24; 1.25.21; 3.13.17; Diogenes Laertius, Lives 3.63 (on Plato); Porphyry, Marc. 8.147–50; 32.485–89; cf. Cicero, Rep. 6.24.26; Tusc. 1.22.52.

64. E.g., Rhet. Alex. preface 1421a.17–18; Josephus, Ant. 18.282; Fronto, Nep. am. 2.8; Philostratus, Love Letters 8 (46); Gr. Anth. 7.109.

65. Cicero, Tusc. 3.3.5; 3.10.22; 4.13.28; Philostratus, Vit. Apoll. 8.5. For Iamblichus, the soul mediates between intellect and body (Finamore and Dillon, “Introduction,” 15).

66. E.g., Plutarch, Plat. Q. 3.1, Mor. 1002B; Table T. 5.intro., Mor. 672F–673A; Pleas. Life 14, Mor. 1096E (protesting detractors); Whether the Affections of the Soul Are Worse Than Those of the Body, Mor. 500B–502A passim; Maximus of Tyre, Or. 33.7–8; Diogenes Laertius, Lives 3.63 (on Plato); Porphyry, Marc. 9.154–58.

67. Cicero, Fin. 3.22.75; Musonius Rufus, 6, p. 54.4–6; Arius Didymus, Epit. 2.7.7b, p. 46.11–18. For that matter, even Aristotle attributed virtue to the soul rather than to the body (Aristotle, Eth. nic. 1.12.6, 1102a).

68. Sextus Empiricus, Pyr. 1.79.

69. See, e.g., Plutarch, Is. Os. 5, Mor. 353A; Porphyry, Marc. 32.485–93; Iamblichus, Anim. 6.34, §382; beyond Platonists, e.g., Cicero, Tusc. 1.22.52; Dio Chrysostom [Favorinus], Or. 37.45. Cf. even the Stoic Marcus Aurelius, Medit. 3.7: “his soul overlaid with his body” (trans. Haines, LCL, p. 57).

70. Plato, Phaedr. 250C; quoted approvingly in Plutarch, Exile 17, Mor. 607D.

71. Philostratus, Vit. Apoll. 7.26 (trans. Conybeare, LCL, 2:223).

72. Iamblichus, Anim. 1.3, §363; Martin, Body, 7–8. Though incorporeal, it remained matter as fire did (Martin, Body, 8). Stoics could also divide the person according to “causal” and “material” (Marcus Aurelius, Medit. 5.13).

73. Ramelli, Hierocles, 44n24; for Stoics, see Iamblichus, Anim. 2.10, §367. Stoics distinguished soul from body, unlike Aristotelians, but normally treated it as material, unlike Platonists (Finamore and Dillon, “Preface,” x). Because Stoics envisioned πνεῦμα as material (see Keener, Acts, 1:530–31 and sources cited there; e.g., Long, Philosophy, 155–58, 171; Lake, “Spirit,” 103; see Klauck, Context, 353–54; Scott, Spirit, 52–53; cf. Büchsel, Geist, 45–49, esp. 47; Schweizer, Spirit, 29; Nolan, “Stoic Gunk”; Vogt, “Brutes”), Engberg-Pedersen (“Spirit”; Cosmology) suggests this use for Paul, but Paul usually refers to God’s Spirit, which would be no more material than is God. For some responses to Engberg-Pedersen on this point, see, e.g., Levison, “Stoa Poecile”; Barclay, “Stoic Physics.”

74. Lucretius, Nat. 3.417–977 (esp. 417–829).

75. Long, “Soul”; Long, Philosophy, 171 (citing Diogenes Laertius, Lives 7.156); cf. Martin, Body, 21; Stowers, “Self-Mastery,” 527–28.

76. Hierocles, Ethics 4.4–6, 44–46.

77. Hierocles, Ethics 4.11–14.

78. Philodemus, Death 7.6–20; see Henry, “Introduction,” xix. Others also regarded the soul as a fine substance (cf. Lucretius, Nat. 3.370–95; Iamblichus, Anim. 1.2, §363; 1.9, §366).

79. Martin, Body, 13; Stowers, “Self-Mastery,” 527.

80. E.g., Epictetus, Diatr. 3.3.4; 4.11.5; Maximus of Tyre, Or. 34.2 (cf. also 10.6); in Jewish works, Let. Aris. 236. Contrast the usage of the term (psuchē) in Sir. 6:2, 4; 18:30–31.

81. E.g., Cicero, Tusc. 5.25.70; Seneca Y., Lucil. 78.10; Nat. 1.pref. 14; Maximus of Tyre, Or. 33.7; Menander Rhetor, Treat. 2.9, 414.21–22, 26; Philo, Heir 64; Creation 135; see further Caird, Age, 102, and sources cited there. Deities have soul but not body (Maximus of Tyre, Or. 41.5; Apuleius, God Socr. 123).

82. Plato, Phaedr. 248AB; Virgil, Aen. 6.728–34; Seneca Y., Lucil. 120.15; in Jewish circles, see Philo, Heir 64 (cf. Spec. Laws 3.2); Sipre Deut. 306.28.2; Gen. Rab. 8:11. In earlier Orphic circles, cf. the gold funerary plates in Grant, Religions, 108. Even Epicureans, who denied an afterlife, acknowledged a person’s heavenly elements (Lucretius, Nat. 2.991–1006).

83. E.g., Virgil, Aen. 6.728–34.

84. See Urbach, Sages, 1:250, on even the Amoraim (though acknowledging that Amoraim often distinguished between soul and body). Cf. perhaps the spirit released into air when the body returns to dust in Ps.-Phoc. 108 (though van der Horst, OTP 2:578n. j, may be right to suggest “Stoic influence”). The argument for a Jewish tradition behind Philo’s use of Hellenistic anthropology (Melnick, “Conception”), however, does not strike me as persuasive.

85. E.g., Let. Aris. 236; 1 En. 102:5; T. Job 20:3; Apocr. Ezek. 1–2; t. Sanh. 13:2; b. Ber. 10a; 60b; b. Yoma 20b, bar. Diaspora Jewish authors often distinguished body and soul, though often “in order to express an ethical rather than an ontological dualism” (Isaacs, Spirit, 75–76). For body and soul mentioned together but with more emphasis on the whole, see, e.g., 2 Macc. 7:37; 14:38; Let. Aris. 139; T. Sim. 2:5; 4:8; probably L.A.B. 3:10; perhaps T. Ash. 2:6; for their close correspondence, see, e.g., T. Naph. 2:2–3.

86. Josephus, Ag. Ap. 2.203. He elsewhere distinguishes soul and body (Ant. 18.117, regarding John the Baptist’s ministry; 18.333), though sometimes in ways emphasizing their connection (Ant. 4.291, 298; 15.190; 18.282; J.W. 1.95, 429; 2.60, 136, 476, 580, 588; 3.362). The soul left the body at death (Ant. 6.3; 13.317; 19.325; J.W. 1.84).

87. Josephus, J.W. 3.272. He speaks of the body as a foreigner to the soul in J.W. 3.278.

88. Josephus, J.W. 7.345; cf. 7.341–88 (esp. 7.340, 348, 355). Ancient hearers would have recognized the speech as Josephus’s composition (Luz, “Masada”).

89. Wis. 9:15. This Alexandrian Jewish work reflects here the sort of Middle Platonic influence also reflected in Philo. For immortality in this work, see also Mazzinghi, “Morte e immortalità.”

90. E.g., Philo, Creation 67 (the mind being eternal and divine); Alleg. Interp. 2.22; Sacrifices 9.

91. Philo, Creation 66 (cf. 69, 139); cf. Heir 55, where the soul’s soul is energized by the divine Spirit. Cf. discussion of two minds in Philo in Konstan, “Minds.”

92. E.g., Philo, Creation 135; cf. Gen. 2:7. In Gen. 1:1, Philo parallels “heaven” with the mind and “earth” with sense knowledge (Alleg. Interp. 1.1).

93. E.g., Philo, Dreams 1.73, 135; Joseph 255; Mos. 2.217; Virt. 57, 172.

94. E.g., Philo, Cherubim 101.

95. E.g., Philo, Worse 86; cf. Planting 18; Decalogue 60.

96. See, e.g., Grant, Judaism, 62; Sandmel, Judaism, 178; cf. Davies, Paul, 18–19 (appealing to rabbinic thinking for the differences; cf. Davies, Origins, 145–77); Hunter, Paul, 17.

97. Flusser, Judaism, 63. Following Bultmann, Conzelmann (Theology, 176) emphasizes holism in Paul; nevertheless, he acknowledges a sort of anthropological dualism (177).

98. See Gundry, Sōma, 16–23. Robinson (Body, 31) treats sarx as humanity distanced from God but sōma as humanity “made for God.” Gundry (Sōma, 50) sees sōma as “the physical body, roughly synonymous with ‘flesh’ in the neutral sense”; cf. Craig, “Bodily Resurrection,” 53–54, also following Gundry.

99. See Moore, Judaism, 451 (though also the qualification on 502).

100. Sipre Deut. 306.28.2; later, cf. Gen. Rab. 8:11.

101. See also Gal. 3:3; 4:29; 5:16–17; 6:8; Phil. 3:3; cf. Rom. 7:14; 1 Cor. 3:1. Sometimes in contrasts with the Spirit sarx refers simply to the body (John 3:6; 1 Tim. 3:16; 1 Pet. 3:18; 4:6), as also when the contrasted spirit is human (Mark 14:38; 1 Cor. 5:5; 2 Cor. 7:1; Col. 2:5; 2 Clem. 14:5; Ignatius, Magn. 13:1; Trall. pref.; 12:1; Phld. 11:2; Smyrn. 1:1; Pol. 5:1).

102. See Frey, “Antithese”; Flusser, Judaism, 64–65. Pryke (“Spirit and Flesh,” 358) understands it as good versus evil spirits.

103. Though the Hebrew is worded differently in 4Q252 1.2, the LXX of Gen. 6:3 uses the same words for “flesh” and “Spirit” that Paul does.

104. Cf. also Jub. 5:8; 1 En. 106:17. Even in Philo, Heir 57, the Spirit alongside reason, contrasted with fleshly pleasure, is the divine spirit.

105. Robinson (Body, 11–14) argues that the OT was so holistic that it lacks a term for “body” and a distinction between “body” and “soul” (perhaps an exaggeration; cf. Isa. 10:18 in MT and LXX). Humans are flesh also in traditional Jewish sources such as, e.g., Jub. 5:2; Sir. 28:5; physicality seems implied in, e.g., Gen. 17:11–14; Jdt. 14:10.

106. Baumgärtel, “Flesh”; Davies, Paul, 18.

107. For flesh as humanity, e.g., Rom. 3:20; 1 Cor. 1:29; Gal. 1:16; for weakness, e.g., Rom. 6:19; 8:3; 1 Cor. 7:28; 2 Cor. 1:17; 5:16; 7:5; Gal. 4:13–14; for mortality, 1 Cor. 15:50; 2 Cor. 4:11; Phil. 1:22, 24. Sheldon (Mystery Religions, 79) cites OT language as more relevant than the mysteries.

108. Bornkamm, Paul, 133.

109. The decomposition of flesh (m. Sanh. 6:6; m. Moʿed Qaṭ. 1:5), even understood as atoning for sin (e.g., Pesiq. Rab Kah. 11:23; b. Sanh. 47b), does not suggest that the body was viewed as evil.

110. Meyer, “Flesh”; Driver, Scrolls, 532; Wilcox, “Dualism,” 94–95; Best, Temptation, 52; esp. Flusser, Judaism, 62–65. See 1QS 3.8; 4.20–21; 9.9; 11.7, 12; 1QM 4.3; 12.12; 1QH 4.29–32; 9.14–16; 13.13; perhaps CD 1.2; 4Q511 f48–49 + 51.4; as in Scripture, its range of meaning remains extensive, sometimes referring simply to kinship (CD 5.9, 11; 7.1; 8.6), humankind (1QM 15.13; 17.8; 4Q511 frg. 35.1; 1Q20 1.25, 29), or to physicality alongside the heart (spirit; 1QM 7.5). In Greek, in T. Job 27:2 (Spittler, OTP 1:851; 27:3 in Kraft, pp. 52–53), Satan contrasts himself as a spirit with Job as “a fleshly person”—i.e., weak and mortal.

111. Dunn (Romans, 1:370) correctly notes that “it is precisely the weakness and appetites of ‘the mortal body’ (= the flesh) which are the occasion for sin.” Likewise, “the problem with flesh is not that it is sinful per se but that it is vulnerable to the enticements of sin—flesh, we might say, as ‘the desiring I’ (7.7–12)” (Dunn, Theology, 67).

112. Unlike Seneca the Younger, Paul’s use of “Spirit” refers to God’s Spirit in Christ, not a shared possession of humanity (Sevenster, Seneca, 79–80); Paul thinks not of “two ‘parts’” of people but rather of “two modes of existence” that characterize the old aeon and the new aeon (Ridderbos, Paul, 66). He is not anti-body (pace Kohler, Theology, 215).

113. Xenophon, Mem. 1.2.24; cf. Oec. 1.22–23.

114. Pseudo-Diogenes, Ep. 5 (trans. Fiore, in Malherbe, Cynic Epistles, 97). Ep. 12 speaks of warring against pleasure and hardship. Cf. Dio Chrysostom, Or. 8.15, on Diogenes the Cynic warring with his hardships for a prize greater than athletic wreaths.

115. Publilius Syrus, Sent. 137 (Minor Latin Poets, LCL, 1:33). His Syrian roots may inform his proverbial form.

116. Seneca Y., Nat. 1.pref. 5.

117. Seneca Y., Nat. 3.pref. 10.

118. Seneca Y., Lucil. 113.29–31.

119. Maximus of Tyre, Or. 34.2 (trans. Trapp, Maximus, 269). In 33.8, he argues for removing bestial desires.

120. Maximus of Tyre, Or. 38.6 (trans. Trapp, Maximus, 304). Cf. also the later Neoplatonist Porphyry, Marc. 9.154–57, on protecting the soul from passions.

121. Lucian, Phil. Sale 8 (trans. Harmon, LCL, 2:465).

122. Iamblichus, Ep. 9.4–7, 10 (Stobaeus, Anth. 2.33.15 [trans. Dillon and Polleichtner, 29]).

123. m. ʾAbot 4:1 (trans. Danby, Mishnah, 453). He goes on to cite Prov. 16:32. Ben Zoma was a younger contemporary of Akiba (m. Soṭah 9:15). Cf. later, e.g., Num. Rab. 14:11; Ruth Rab. 8:1. Cf. also desires causing internal conflicts in James 4:1.

124. The terms do not appear in the Apostolic Fathers but they are common enough in the LXX. Peter may include an alliterative element here (kalēn . . . katalalousin . . . kakapoiōn . . . kalon; en tois ethnesin echontes . . . ergōn epopteuontes . . . en hēmera episkopēs).

125. Israel’s dispersion could also affect the reception of God’s name there; cf. LXX Isa. 52:5, applied in Rom. 2:24. The phrase remains occasionally in Luke (Acts 15:12; 21:19) and Paul but vanishes in the Apostolic Fathers.

126. Matt. 5:16; 1 Tim. 5:10, 25; 6:18; Titus 2:7, 14; 3:8, 14; Heb. 10:24; 2 Clem. 12:4; sg. in Mark 14:6; equivalently, agathoi ergoi (or pan agathon ergon), as in Acts 9:36; 2 Cor. 9:8; Eph. 2:10; 1 Tim. 2:10; 5:10; 2 Tim. 2:21; 3:17; Titus 1:16; 3:1; sg. in Rom. 2:7; 13:3. The phrase appears in Jewish circles before and after this period: Let. Aris. 18, 272; Sib. Or. 1:126; 2:313; 3:220; Philo, Sacrifices 53; Worse 35; 3 Bar. 15:2 MSS; T. Reu. 4:1; T. Benj. 5:3; sg. in Josephus, Ag. Ap. 2.230; T. Naph. 8:5. Epictetus later speaks of the work of a kalos kai agathos person (Diatr. 2.11.25; 3.3.1; 4.8.24).

127. Schreiner, Peter, 123, following here both Gundry (“Verba Christi,” 340; “Further Verba,” 224) and Best (“Tradition,” 109–10).

128. The eschatological time also in 1 Clem. 50:3. Cf. the time of reckoning in 1QS 4.11; CD 5.15–16; 8.2.

129. The cognate noun (epoptēs) appears only in 2 Pet. 1:16 in the NT, and in a different sense in 1 Clem. 59:3.

130. Justin, 2 Apol. 12. Winning friends by how one behaves was good moral counsel (e.g., Pythagorean belief in Diogenes Laertius, Lives 8.1.23).

131. Kloppenborg (“Associations”) views 1 Peter as ambivalent toward the civic context.

132. Donelson (Peter, 71–72) notes that the semantic range of hōs includes both “as” and “as if,” potentially relativizing some of the praise of authority here.

133. Cf. Richard, “Conduct”; Evang, “Gewalt.” Behavior compensation (also studied in individual moral contexts; e.g., De Cremer, Perspectives, 80) is a common response of minority groups to prejudice (Swim and Stangor, Prejudice, 191–92; Jones, Psychology, 168; Whitley and Kite, Psychology2, 451–53; Whitley and Kite, Psychology3, 434–35; Bordens and Horowitz, Psychology, 143), thoughtfully applied to 1 Peter in Holloway, “Prejudice.”

134. Epictetus, Diatr. 1.29.9. For loyalty to and noncriticism of kings from a sociological perspective, cf. Malina and Neyrey, “Honor and Shame,” 40.

135. All the more important if Peter writes from direct knowledge of Rome.

136. Tacitus, Hist. 5.5 (trans. Moore, LCL, 2:183).

137. Josephus, Ag. Ap. 2.75. Agrippa urges submission in Josephus, J.W. 2.345–401.

138. Josephus, Ag. Ap. 2.76.

139. Josephus, Ag. Ap. 2.77 (for no one else, however, he adds).

140. Borrowed from Keener, Paul, 139–42.

141. On this, see esp. Balch, Wives, 65–80 (chap. 5, “Greco-Roman Criticism of Eastern Religions”); see also 118.

142. Juvenal, Sat. 3.62. Syrian Antioch, a major sending church in Paul’s gentile mission (Acts 13:1–3; 14:26–28), was situated on the Orontes. Although Juvenal writes in the early second century, the sentiments on which he plays are earlier.

143. Stern, “Greek and Latin Literature,” 1150, 1157, citing Tacitus, Seneca, and Juvenal; cf. Meeks, Moral World, 22.

144. Cf. Cicero, Leg. 2.10.25, whose ideal laws exclude “the worship of private gods, whether new or alien” as disruptive to Roman religion (trans. Keyes, LCL, 16:400–401). The necessity of preserving Roman religious custom is often heard (e.g., Rhet. Her. 3.3.4).

145. Grant, Gods, 33.

146. No doubt made a Mystery only under Greek influence.

147. For its popularity, see Kee, Miracle, 105–45.

148. In the 40s, under Caligula; see Dunand, “Mystères,” 38; Cary and Haarhoff, Life, 343. It existed in Rome, with its own temple, from the first century BCE (Grant, Gods, 34), but the scandal in the reign of Tiberius had been a major setback (Josephus, Ant. 18.65–83, elaborated further below).

149. Heyob, Isis, 26–27.

150. Cf. Athens in Xenophon, Mem. 1.1.1; Plato, Apol. 24B; Dio Chrysostom, Or. 43.9; Josephus, Ag. Ap. 2.267; but the response was more positive by this period (Strabo, Geogr. 10.3.18).

151. Heyob, Isis, 36. Religious tolerance seems to have been higher in the period of the republic; see Frank, Aspects, 42. Judaism, too, naturally despised Isis worshipers; cf. Sib. Or. 5:484–91 (probably late first- to early second-century CE Egypt); the “thrice-wretched goddess” (5:484 [trans. Collins, OTP 1:404]) may be an allusion to the triple-goddess tradition applied to other composite-goddess figures of antiquity.

152. Plutarch, Table T. 4.6.1–2, Mor. 671C–672C, e.g., 6.2, Mor. 671DE (the Feast of Tabernacles is associated with Dionysus) and 672A (so also the Sabbath).

153. In the second century, Lucian still confuses them (Peregr. 11). Outsiders recognized Christianity’s Jewish roots well into the third century, no doubt to the embarrassment of many of the Jewish leaders (cf. Wilken, “Christians,” 119–23).

154. The sorts of charges cited against Judaism (cf. Tacitus, Hist. 5; Josephus, Ag. Ap. 2) came to be leveled against Christians (cf. the ass’s head in Tacitus, Hist. 5.4, and Tertullian, Apol. 16.1–4).

155. Josephus, Ant. 18.64–83. Josephus may adapt his narrative according to standard literary conventions for apologetic purposes (Moehring, “Persecution”), but this does not bring his basic story into question (Heyob [Isis, 118] thinks Josephus was just making Judaism look good at the expense of Isis devotees).

156. Tacitus (Ann. 2.85), who does not supply all the details provided in Josephus, nevertheless links the two events.

157. Juvenal, Sat. 14.100–103; Tacitus, Hist. bk. 5.

158. Cf., e.g., Josephus, Ant. 16.162–65; 19.280–85. The status of religio licita is often affirmed for Judaism (e.g., Reinhold, Diaspora, 74; Selwyn, Peter, 51), though it may not be strictly accurate, since Judaism functioned as a collegium rather than a religio (Parkes, Conflict, 8; cf. Koester, Introduction, 1:365). Josephus’s evidence points not toward a religio licita status per se, but toward the use of precedents and appeals (Rajak, “Charter”). Precedent was important in Roman law (Augustus’s powers are cited in support of those of Vespasian in a law of 69–70 CE, in CIL 6.930 [Sherk, Empire, §82, pp. 124–25]), and Luke seems to appeal to as many legal precedents as possible in establishing the acceptability of Christianity in the book of Acts.

159. See Stern, “Greek and Latin Literature,” 1118. For anti-Judaism in Greco-Roman antiquity, see, e.g., CPJ 1:24–25; 2:36–55, §153; 3:119–21, §520; Philo, Flaccus 1, §1, 7, §47, 10, §85; Sib. Or. 3:271–72; Quintilian, Inst. 3.7.21; Horace, Sat. 1.5.100–101; Juvenal, Sat. 14.96–106; Persius, Sat. 5.179–84; Cohen, Maccabees, 46–49; Meagher, “Twig”; Daniel, “Anti-Semitism”; Goodenough, Symbols, 12:54. Its popularity, on the other hand, is attested in the numbers of proselytes and God-fearers (Gager, Anti-Semitism, 67–88; Cohen, Maccabees, 49–58), though this only exacerbated the hostility of other outsiders (Gager, Anti-Semitism, 59–61; cf. Smallwood, Jews, 203–5).

160. See especially the thesis of Gager (Anti-Semitism), who thinks that the main cause of antipathy toward Judaism in Rome was its popularity among others in Rome. Jewish proselytism does not appear in favorable light in our Roman sources: Horace, Sat. 1.4.141–44; see the full sampling in Whittaker, Jews and Christians, 85–91; cf. Parkes, Conflict, 25–26. Of course, the foreignness and non-Roman exclusiveness of Judaism was also offensive, as may be attested in repeated criticisms of circumcision, Sabbath, and food laws (cf. Tacitus, Hist. 5.1–5; see Gager, Anti-Semitism, 58; Smallwood, Jews, 123; Sevenster, Anti-Semitism, 89–144); but Judaism’s popularity may be what made these threatening and more than objects of ridicule.

161. Women comprised half of all proselytes and 80 percent of God-fearers in inscriptions, though only 40 percent of tomb-inscriptions relate to them (Riesner, Early Period, 351).

162. See Plutarch, Bride 19, Mor. 140D (trans. Babbitt, LCL, 2:310–11). For an example of Plutarch’s objections to foreign superstitions, cf. Plutarch, Superst. 2, Mor. 166AB (he includes Judaism as such in Superst. 8, Mor. 169C).

163. MacMullen, Social Relations, 105.

164. Pomeroy, Goddesses, 154, 230.

165. This was rhetorically appropriate; cf. later Iamblichus, Vit. pyth. 33.229, moving from all humanity to citizenship to immediate family, and then summarizing again with all people (as Peter does in 3:8–9). Green (Peter, 72) rightly notes that general instructions (2:13–17; 3:8–12) frame Peter’s instructions to slaves (2:18–20) and spouses (3:1–7).

166. E.g., to the senate (Polybius, Hist. 6.17.1); those above oneself (1QS 5.23; m. ʾAbot 3:12); the emperor (Gen. Rab. 98:2); though submission to others does not come naturally (Dio Cassius, Hist. rom. 1.5.12).

167. Cf., e.g., Musonius Rufus, 16, p. 102.12–31.

168. These were not limited to the Aristotelian format available in Eph. 5:22–6:9 or Col. 3:18–4:1 (Balch, “Household Codes,” 34). See further discussion in Lips, “Haustafel”; Christensen, “Debate.”

169. Aristotle, Pol. 1.1.2, 1252a.

170. Aristotle, Pol. 1.1–3, esp. 1.2.1, 1253b. Cf. Lycurgus 21, in Plutarch, S. Sp., Mor. 228CD.

171. Hierocles, Country (Stobaeus, Anth. 3.39.34–36).

172. Cf. Hierocles, Marriage (Stobaeus, Anth. 4.67.21): “The first and most elementary of the communities is that in accord with marriage. For there would not be cities if there were not households” (trans. Ramelli, Hierocles, 73).

173. Hierocles, Siblings (Stobaeus, Anth. 4.84.23); in different sequences, Epictetus, Diatr. 2.14.8; 2.17.31. Earlier, Pythagoras reportedly taught people to honor elders, and then “gods before demi-gods, heroes before men, and first among men their parents” (Diogenes Laertius, Lives 8.1.22–23 [trans. Hicks, LCL, 2:341]).

174. For Romans, see, e.g., Valerius Maximus, Mem. 2.2.1a.

175. Euripides, frg. 853 (trans. Collard and Cropp, LCL, 8:479); this sequence appears in Isocrates, Demon. 16; Epictetus, Diatr. 2.17.31.

176. Here I borrow from Keener, Paul, 146–47.

177. Osiek, MacDonald, and Tulloch, Woman’s Place, 19, 141.

178. Aristotle, Pol. 1.2.1, 1253b (trans. Rackham, LCL, 21:12–13). The three pairs also appear in Aristotle, Pol. 1.2.2, 1253b; 1.5.3–4, 1259b; 3.4.4, 1278b. Aristotle distributed honor according to social categories (Meeks, Moral World, 36, citing Eth nic. 9.2.7–10).

179. Balch, “Household Codes,” 27. Even Artemidorus (Onir. 1.24) defines as classes subservient to a man “wife, children, and slaves.” Some other philosophers, like (of course) the Cynics, completely ignored questions of transforming the social order (Meeks, Moral World, 55). Post-Aristotelian Greek thinkers seem to have shared Aristotle’s penchant for categorization.

180. Cf. Musonius Rufus, 8, p. 66.13–15; Arius Didymus, Epit. 2.7.11d, p. 64.10–14; but not all Stoics: see Seneca Y., Lucil. 94.2. On such codes of conduct in Stoicism and differences from Platonic approaches, see Sedley, “Debate,” 128; for differences from even Aristotle, see Barnes, “Logic,” 52; Inwood, “Rules,” 96–99.

181. Gaius, Inst. 1.48–51, 108–18 (esp. 116–18); most common dependents or nonequals as “women, slaves, and minors” (e.g., m. Sukkah 2:8; y. Sukkah 2:9; cf. Swidler, Women, 117–18).

182. Meeks, Urban Christians, 30.

183. Aristotle, Eth. nic. 8.11.2, 1161a (over son); 8.11.4, 1161a (over wife); Stowers, Letter Writing, 31. Aristotle agreed that the state was composed of households (Pol. 1.2.1, 1253b), but disagreed with those who thought its government the same as that of the city-state (e.g., Pol. 1.1.2, 1252a).

184. In Grant, Religions, 131–33, esp. 132. This copy is from second-century CE Asia, probably copying an earlier one from Egypt.

185. E.g., 4 Macc. 5:18; in Judea, cf. Sipre Deut. 344.3.2.

186. See already (originally in Hebrew and not apologetically oriented) Sir. 7:18–28. Michaels (Peter, 122) notes various sources, including Ps.-Phoc. 175–227.

187. Apologetic concerns could also be reflected in Palestinian Jewish community laws; cf., e.g., Sipre Deut. 344.3.2. Many moral instructions in 1 Pet. 2:13–3:7 also have OT parallels; cf. Manns, “Morale.”

188. Malherbe, Social Aspects, 51; Balch, Wives, 87; cf. Meeks, Urban Christians, 106.

189. Josephus, Ag. Ap. 2.199–217; see especially the comments in Balch, “Household Codes,” 28–29, though other relationships also fall in these paragraphs. Josephus classes women, children, and slaves as baser and more easily duped (Josephus, Ant. 19.129–31). For a proposed, nonapologetic Judean analogy to household codes, see 4Q416 2.3.15–2.4.8 (suggested in Wold, “Family Ethics”).

190. Philo, Decalogue 165–67; Spec. Laws 2.225–27 (brought to my attention by Wold, “Family Ethics”).

191. Philo, Hypothetica 7.14.

192. Eph. 5:22–6:9; Col. 3:18–4:1; Titus 2:2–10; 1 Clem. 1:3; Did. 4:9–11; cf. echoes in 1 Clem. 21:6–8; Barn. 19:5–7; Polycarp, Phil. 4:2–3 (in 4:2–6:2); Ignatius, Pol. 4:1–3; Pseudo-Ignatius, Antioch. 9–10; cf. Connock and Rensburg, “Context.” For reasons for the codes’ prominence in Pauline texts, see Longenecker, Remember the Poor, 285.

193. In 1 Peter, see Balch, Wives, 81–116; followed by, e.g., Aune, Environment, 196; Balch, “Household Codes,” 26; Seim, “House,” 53. Early Christianity’s socially liberating aspects may have been what made it most vulnerable to charges of subversion (cf. data from ancient moralists in Balch, Wives, 90–92).

194. E.g., Cragg, Church, 105; cf. Keener, “Subversive Conservative.”

195. See Boring, Peter, 118; on 114–15, he also offers the example of Barth resisting the Nazis yet advising East Germans after the war to remain loyal “to the officially atheist Marxist state.” Still, resistant theologians could face persecution under both (cf. Ernst Lohmeyer in Edwards, Swastika).

196. Cf. Bauman-Martin, “Women”; Lu, “Role”; Glahn, “Vessels.”

197. Cf. 1 Cor. 7:2–4; see Keener, Paul, 168–72, 206 (for some other more progressive voices, cf. vi–ix); Wright, Faithfulness, 1375–76.

198. Cf., e.g., Josephus, Ant. 12.119, 414; 13.78; 16.131; 19.338; Plutarch, Cic. 36.1–2; Ramsay, Letters, 94.

199. Regarding princeps, see Judge, First Christians, 395–400. “King” here is singular, however, and most subjects in the east considered the emperor “king” (cf. again Judge, First Christians, 400–401; Elliott, Peter, 490, citing John 19:15; Dio Chrysostom, Or. 7.12; 21.6, 8, 10).

200. E.g., Euripides, Dict. frg. 337 (Stobaeus, Anth. 4.4.2); Isocrates, Demon. 36.

201. Menander Rhetor, Treat. 2.1–2, 368.17–20 (trans. Russell and Wilson, 77); this is in encomia on the emperor.

202. Harland, Associations, 213–37. Cf. Oakes, Empire, 24–25.

203. So Andreas Presbyter, Catena (CEC 55), citing Matt. 22:21 (Bray, Peter, 92). Some find here more specifically implicit criticism of the imperial cult (e.g., Schreiner, Peter, 128), but Peter does not address this issue explicitly (Elliott, Peter, 501); 1 Pet. 4:3 would provide a clearer example, since it would necessarily include worship of the emperor (see brief comment there).

204. Perhaps the civic duty of officially recognizing public benefactors (Winter, Welfare, 21, 26–40, esp. 30–33, 195), although Peter’s audience are not likely deemed civic benefactors (Williams, “Benefiting,” challenging Winter, “Honouring”). Others also note similarities with Rom. 13, although explaining it in various ways, often as literary dependence (Cullmann, Time, 197; Cullmann, State, 70; Jossa, “Sottomissione”) or as simply “similar vocabulary” (Achtemeier, Peter, 181, highlighting differences). While I believe that Peter knew Romans, in this case the shared concepts could reflect wider early Christian teaching.

205. Later, see esp. Menander Rhetor, Treat. 2.10, 414.31–418.4. Governors often did abuse their power, however (e.g., Cicero, Att. 5.16; 6.1; Verr. passim; Josephus, Ant. 20.118–19, 127, 163, 215, 253–54; J.W. 2.272–73, 277, 287, 293–95; see further Keener, Acts, 4:3439–41), and could be recalled and punished (Josephus, Ant. 20.136).

206. Kelly (Peter, 110) suggests that this focus on governors fits the local persecutions of Nero’s era much better than the more standard persecutions of Trajan’s.

207. E.g., Xenophon, Mem. 4.8.4; Apol. 3; Lysias, Or. 19.24, §154; Isaeus, Nicost. 27; Aeschines, Tim. 181; Rhet. Alex. 36, 1443b.34–38; Cicero, Vat. 10.25–26; Rosc. com. 7.21; Sull. 24.68; Cael. 29.69; Appian, Hist. rom. 11.7.40–41.

208. Note some alliteration in 2:15: agathopoiountas . . . aphronōn anthrōpōn agnōsiam.

209. With, e.g., Malherbe, Social Aspects, 51; Meeks, Moral World, 21.

210. Balch, Wives, 94.

211. Cicero, Off. 1.17.54 (trans. Miller, LCL, 21:57).

212. Perhaps better, “submit”; the implied imperative probably comes from 2:13 (Schreiner, Peter, 131; Dubis, Peter, 68–69; Schlosser, Épître, 157; Watson, “Peter,” 65).

213. For alliteration in 2:16, note eleutheri . . . epikalumma echontes . . . eleutherian.

214. E.g., Livy, Hist. 5.6.17; 27.31.6. Cf. Phaedrus, Fab. 1.2.1–3, 11–31; the Greek saying in Dunn, Galatians, 287. Cf. the numerous references connecting freedom and virtue in Selwyn, Peter, 174.

215. Barclay, Gift, 364, citing Josephus, Ant. 4.145–49.

216. Dio Chrysostom, Or. 14.3–6, 18 (in deSilva, Readings, 246). For liberty as freedom from dependence on others, see, e.g., Xenophon, Mem. 1.2.6–7; Pseudo-Diogenes, Ep. 9.

217. See Spawforth, “Free Cities.”

218. Stowers, “Self-Mastery,” 544; Engberg-Pedersen, “Vices,” 613.

219. From Keener, Galatians (2019), 114–16; in turn condensed from Keener, Mind, 39–41; see more fully, Keener, John, 750–51.

220. Philo, Good Person 36, 95–96; Dreams 2.196; Josephus, Ant. 14.77; Musonius Rufus, 16, p. 106.8 (Lutz).

221. Musonius Rufus, 9, p. 72.23, 27–29; pp. 72.31–73.3; p. 74.10–13; Philo, Good Person 48, 52. Probably compulsion and parrhēsia (freedom of speech) are contrasted in Josephus, Ant. 16.27; parrhēsia is related to freedom (Philo, Good Person 95, 125; Josephus, Ant. 11.39; 14.77; cf. 4.187).

222. See Söding, “Freiheit.”

223. E.g., Diodorus Siculus, Libr. Hist. 10.34.8; Strabo, Geogr. 10.4.16.

224. Arrian, Anab. 4.11.8; Sallust, Catil. 51.31; Jug. 31.11; Musonius Rufus, 9, p. 72.9–10.

225. Demosthenes, 3 Philip. 36; [4] Philip. 25; Isocrates, De pace 105; Dionysius of Halicarnassus, Rom. Ant. 3.23.18–20; 6.7.2; Sallust, Jug. 102.6; Cicero, Att. 14.14; Phil. 3.5.12; 3.11.29; 3.13.33; 6.7.19; 14.14.37; Appian, Hist. rom. 4.10.80; 8.9.56; Maximus of Tyre, Or. 23.4.

226. E.g., Aristotle, Rhet. 1.9.27, 1367a; Anonymous 37, in Plutarch, S. Sp., Mor. 234B; Dio Chrysostom, Or. 18; Epictetus, Diatr. 1.4.19.

227. Pseudo-Crates, Ep. 8; Epictetus, Diatr. 4.7.17.

228. E.g., Seneca Y., Ben. 3.20.1–2; Epictetus, Diatr. 1.9.21; 1.12.9; 1.19.8; 1.25.3; 2.18.28; 4.1.1; Dio Chrysostom, Or. 14.18.

229. E.g., Seneca Y., Ben. 3.20.1–2; Epictetus, Diatr. 1.11.37; 1.19.8; 3.24.68; 4.7.16–18; Aulus Gellius, Att. 2.18.9–10; Diogenes Laertius, Lives 7.1.121–22.

230. Cicero, Parad. 33–41; Seneca Y., Lucil. 27.4; Diogenes Laertius, Lives 2.72 (Aristippus); Plutarch, Lect. 1, Mor. 37E; 4 Macc. 14:2.

231. Marcus Aurelius, Medit. 8.1; Diogenes Laertius, Lives 7.1.33 (Zeno).

232. E.g., Plutarch, Superst. 5, Mor. 167B.

233. E.g., Arrian, Anab. 3.11.2; Seneca Y., Lucil. 8.7; 27.4; Plutarch, Lect. 1, Mor. 37E; Superst. 5, Mor. 167B.

234. E.g., Aeschines, Tim. 42; Xenophon, Oec. 1.22–23; Hell. 4.8.22; Apol. 16; Sophocles, Antig. 756; Trach. 488–89; Plato, Phaedr. 238E; Isocrates, Demon. 21; Cicero, Amic. 22.82; Off. 1.29.102; 1.38.136; 2.5.18; Tibullus, Eleg. 2.4.1–3; Appian, Bell. civ. 5.1.8–9; Seneca Y., Ben. 3.28.4; Lucil. 14.1; 39.6; 47.17; 110.9–10; 116.1; Nat. 1.16.1; Musonius Rufus, 3, p. 40.19; Epictetus, Diatr. 3.24.70–71, 75; Maximus of Tyre, Or. 36.6; Diogenes Laertius, Lives 2.75; 6.2.66; Pseudo-Diogenes, Ep. 12; Pseudo-Heraclitus, Ep. 9; Socratics, Ep. 14; Pyth. Sent. 21, 23.

235. E.g., 3 Macc. 2:6; Josephus, Ant. 3.19–20; 6.86; T. Mos. 3:14; Sipre Deut. 305.2.1.

236. Josephus, Ant. 18.6.

237. Philo, Good Person 20.

238. E.g., m. ʾAbot 6:2; b. B. Meṣ. 85b; b. Qidd. 22b (attributed to ben Zakkai); see further Abrahams, Studies (2), 213; cf. Ps. 119:45.

239. Cf. Dunn, Galatians, 100. George (Identity, 208) notes freedom as a postcolonial emphasis as well.

240. 1 Esd. 4:49, 53; 1 Macc. 14:26; eleutheroō in 2 Macc. 2:22.

241. Lev. 19:20; Sir. 7:21; 33:26; 3 Macc. 3:28.

242. For the Maccabean era, e.g., Josephus, Ant. 12.304, 433.

243. E.g., Josephus, Ant. 2.281, 290, 327, 329; 3.64.

244. Josephus, Ant. 12.281.

245. Josephus, Ant. 12.281; 13.198.

246. E.g., Philo, Alleg. Interp. 3.17; Heir 271.

247. Philo, Heir 68. Reason is freest of the free in 4 Macc. 14:2.

248. Using the conventional scholarly definition; for technical correction, see Stowers, Letter Writing, 23; in letters, see 91–106.

249. E.g., Isocrates, Demon. 13–43; Nic. 51–56; Dicta Catonis (collection of distichs, lines 1–57); Diogenes Laertius, Lives 1.70; 4Q412 f1.5–10; Ps.-Phoc. passim; T. Dan 5:1; in Jewish wisdom, Gammie, “Paraenetic Literature”; in early Jewish sources, Theron, “Motivation”; Stachowiak, “Pouczenia”; generally, Aune, Environment, 191. Rhetorically, cf. epitrochasmos in Anderson, Glossary, 54; also asyndeton in Rhet. Her. 4.30.41; elsewhere, cf. Confucius’s Analects. For asyndeton, see Rhet. Her. 4.30.41; Rowe, “Style,” 136; Lee, “Translations: Greek,” 779–80; Black, “Oration at Olivet,” 86; for examples, see Rhet. Alex. 36.1442a.11–14.

250. For coherence in some paraenesis, see Verner, Household, 112–25, esp. 125. Moralists also could adapt paraenesis to the settings they addressed (Malherbe, Moral Exhortation, 65–66, 121).

251. Isocrates, Demon. 16 (trans. Norlin, LCL, 1:13).

252. Marcus Aurelius, Medit. 7.31 (trans. Haines, LCL, p. 177).

253. Syr. Men. Sent. 9–10 (trans. Baarda, OTP 2:592).

254. Syr. Men. Epit. 2–4 (trans. Baarda, OTP 2:591).

255. Cf. also Kelly, Peter, 112, citing m. ʾAbot 4:1.

256. It appears soon after in 1 Clem. 2:4; later perhaps in Herm. 38:10. It applies to alliances in 1 Macc. 12:10, 17, and among literal brothers in 4 Macc. 9:23; 10:3, 15; 13:19, 27. Jews regarded one another similarly (Bonsirven, Judaism, 150–51).

257. E.g., 2 Chron. 19:7, 9; Job 28:28; Pss. 34:11, 15–16; 111:10; Prov. 1:7; 2:5; 9:10; 15:33; cf. CD 10.2; 20.19–20; Jub. 18:9, 11; 43:10; Pss. Sol. 2:33; 3:12; 4:23; 5:18; 6:5; 12:4; 15:13; 17:40; 18:8–9; Let. Aris. 159, 189; 2 En. 43:3; 48:7; 3 En. 23:9; T. Benj. 3:3–4; 4:4; 10:10; T. Dan 9:1; T. Jos. 10:5; 11:1; T. Jud. 16:2; T. Naph. 2:9; T. Reu. 4:1; T. Sim. 3:4. It would make arrogance impossible (Prov. 3:7). In the ancient Near East, fearing deities meant piety (Walton, Thought, 153). Contrast sinners (1 En. 101:9; 2 En. 34:1; 48:8; Pss. Sol. 4:21; Sib. Or. 1:112; 3:29; 4 Ezra 16:70; 3 Bar. 16:2).

258. Donelson (Peter, 70) notes a sort of inclusio between 2:13 and 2:17 based on submission to all and to the king.

259. Some plausibly propose that by suggesting merely honor—as for everyone else in 2:17a—Peter relativizes the role of the emperor (Schaefer, Husband, 108, though it goes too far to call it “satire by understatement” [109]).

260. See esp. Pliny Y., Ep. 10.96. Peter’s eschatological Christology has political implications; see Horrell and Wan, “Christology.”

261. Musonius Rufus, 33, pp. 132–33 (Lutz).

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