Epistolary Prescript
Epistolary Prescript
1 Peter 1:1–2
From Peter to God’s Chosen in Asia Minor (1:1–2)
1:1
From: Peter, a commissioned agent of Jesus Christ.
To: Those God has chosen—resident aliens dispersed throughout the provinces of Pontus, Galatia, Cappadocia, Asia, and Bithynia—
1:2
chosen, indeed, because God the Father foreknew you. Your chosenness is evident by God’s Spirit consecrating you so you can obey and be sprinkled by Jesus Christ’s blood. May God cause his grace and peace to abound in your lives!
First Peter 1:2–25 highlights the future consummation of salvation brought about by Christ and inherited through new birth by the gospel (1:23–25). This salvation rests on Christ’s sacrificial suffering (1:19; cf. 1:11; 2:24), his resurrection (1:3, 21), and his future revealing (1:7).
1:1
The first two verses of 1 Peter constitute the epistolary prescript1 and introduce some key themes of the letter, such as resident aliens, God’s plan, obedience and Christ’s sacrifice. Peter (1:1) means “Rock” (perhaps an English equivalent would be “Rocky”). This was the special name that Jesus gave to Simon (Matt. 16:18; John 1:42), not what his parents named him. Rock (Petros) also could seem a fitting title for the author of the plays on “stone” texts in 1 Pet. 2:4–8, though Peter reserves the cognate term petra for a stone of stumbling (2:8; cf. Matt. 16:23).
Although the name Peter alone would be sufficient to identify Peter in the early church, he also identifies his role: a commissioned agent of Jesus Christ.2 That he uses this title for himself rather than, say, “the movement’s leader” or Jesus’s “highest-ranked” pupil suggests that Peter understands and follows Jesus’s teaching about servant leadership (Mark 10:42–45; 1 Pet. 5:2–3, 5). The term commissioned agent (apostolos) has a special usage in early Christianity,3 but its relation to wider usage also makes sense. Noting that the cognate verb apostellō (“send”) often translates the Hebrew šālaḥ in the Greek Scriptures, many scholars cite as a (limited) analogy the Jewish conception of the commissioned agent (a šalîaḥ) who accurately represents the sender.4 Sometimes Jewish sources treat as agents Moses, Aaron, or biblical prophets,5 since they spoke on God’s authority rather than their own.6 Peter is not great in himself, but is the agent of Christ, who is great.
All the regions named in 1:1 are provinces in Roman Asia Minor,7 although not all were equally heavily inhabited or Romanized. The province of Asia was heavily populated and was the eastern empire’s most prosperous;8 many Jews lived there.9 The province of Galatia in this period included both what we call “north Galatia” (the primary region in which Gauls had settled) and “south Galatia.”10 South Galatia was more heavily inhabited than north Galatia in this period,11 with a more significant Jewish population.12 Although Paul evangelized Asia and south Galatia, we have at best possible hints of how the good news may have spread in Cappadocia (Acts 2:9),13 Pontus (2:9; 18:2), or Bithynia.14 Spread, however, it did;15 the church began flourishing in Bithynia well before the early second century,16 and by a later time in the second century it is well attested in Pontus.17 Asia Minor was increasingly an epicenter of the Christian movement; by the time of Constantine, Christians constituted “at least a large minority and perhaps a majority” of the population.18 Circulating a general letter to a wide geographic range of locations had precedent, not only in authorities’ decrees19 but also in some Jewish circular letters.20
Apart, perhaps, from contacts made elsewhere (again, cf. Acts 2:9), we do not know what Peter’s direct connections were with these regions.21 Certainly Peter did travel outside Judea (Gal. 2:11) and was well-known in Asia Minor as a leader of the Jerusalem church (1:18; 2:7–9); by the time of Paul’s Jerusalem visit of ca. 58 CE (Acts 21:18), he was no longer in Jerusalem. In any case, however, it was not necessary for one of Peter’s spiritual stature to have visited a region for him to expect his letter’s eager reception among believers there (cf. Rom. 1:11–13; 15:24; Col. 2:1).
Particularly significant and of wider relevance is the title that Peter grants believers there: “chosen” (1:1 Greek; 1:2 NRSV, NIV), connected with God’s foreknowledge (1:2).22 Because chosen and foreknew are so closely connected in early Christian thought (e.g., Acts 2:23; Rom. 8:29), I have moved my discussion of chosen to the end of verse 1, so I can address it in a context adjacent to verse 2’s foreknew. (For the same reason, I repeat chosen in my rendering of 1:2, like some other translations, even though in Greek it appears in v. 1.)
Jewish people before the Christian era prayed for God to “gather the dispersed [diaspora] of Israel” (Pss. Sol. 8:28) and to “gather our diaspora” (2 Macc. 1:27).23 Jewish people dispersed outside the holy land recognized themselves as God’s chosen people, but often lived as resident aliens in the predominantly gentile cities where they settled. This was true in Roman Asia Minor (where all the named Roman provinces are located). They were the Judean Diaspora, those dispersed beyond their ancestral homeland. Peter, however, refers to a spiritual rather than ethnic diaspora, and he transfers these images to all who now follow Israel’s God in Christ (1 Pet. 1:17; 2:11).24 They are God’s people residing as aliens in a culture foreign to their divine origin.
This image, introduced at the beginning of the letter, is a dominant one in 1 Peter,25 revisited at various points (1:17; 2:11), probably including even in the closing greetings (5:13).26 Some scholars contend that the image of resident aliens reflects the social situation of the original audience before their conversion.27 Sometimes they argue this because the literal use was dominant in antiquity.28 A dominant literal use, however, is precisely what informs metaphors’ force; it informs all metaphors except dead ones.29 More likely, and far more often argued today, is that Peter applies this image figuratively regardless of the addressees’ (possibly diverse) civic realities.30 Although the figurative application is likelier, it draws on concrete realities that the audience knew31 and that probably at least some of its actual members had experienced.
In any community, aliens were in a vulnerable position.32 Civic pride typically delimited noncitizen rights,33 and aliens could reside in cities for generations without achieving citizenship.34 Those who did grow up in such cities before becoming citizens usually assimilated local values.35 When Greek cities needed more funds, they levied higher taxes on resident aliens.36 In earlier Athens, perhaps more than half the residents were taxed, noncitizen aliens.37 Although earlier Athenians distinguished resident aliens from pure foreigners,38 they still could mock those with even mixed blood.39 This situation was in no way limited to Athens.40 Well past the lifetime of Peter, many residents born in cities in Asia Minor lacked citizenship there,41 and they were required to pay exorbitant sums to achieve citizenship.42
The empire viewed Jewish communities in non-Judean cities as communities of Judean resident aliens there,43 an identity “bequeathed” to Christians.44 Some Diaspora Jews in Greek cities lacked even the “right of local residence,” but more commonly they were given the right to settle, while treated as aliens.45 When mistreated, they might feel like foreigners.46
Translating resident aliens in terms of “permanent residency status” might communicate an aspect of the concept for modern readers, but it would miss other aspects. Most countries today allow permanent residents to become citizens under certain conditions; but citizens of predominantly gentile cities viewed most Jewish residents as “dispersed Judeans” even if the Jewish ancestors had lived in the city for generations. Peter also wants to emphasize that believers are not permanent residents of this world system; rather, they belong to another one. Despite differences in taxation and assimilation practices, the often greater hardships of today’s millions of global refugees and migrants, both legal and undocumented, offer us some vivid illustrations of the marginal status that Peter envisions for us as believers sojourning in this world. Various analogies today help us grasp the image more concretely.47
Diaspora Jews could also use the language of “aliens” figuratively, apart from any ethnic sense. Thus, the Alexandrian Jewish philosopher Philo reasons that “the mind of the virtuous man is a sojourner,” dwelling only temporarily in the body and on earth; its real home is heaven.48 Likewise, the wise person merely sojourns in the body, “as in a strange land, but dwells in and has for his fatherland the virtues known through the mind.”49
Peter develops the image further in 2:11 (see more extended comment there). Given the context that follows in 2:13–3:7, however, Peter does not envision exiles as so heavenly minded that they are no earthly good. His exilic model seems closer to Jer. 29:7: exiles should seek the welfare of their places of exile, since their welfare in the near future is connected with those places’ welfare.50
Peter applies the title “chosen” both to Jesus Christ (2:4, 6) and to his people (1:1; 2:9). In Greek, Peter separates this title “chosen” from “foreknowledge” with his elaboration of the addressees, thus framing their earthly identity with their spiritual one.
A CLOSER LOOK
Providence, Fate, and Predestination in Antiquity51
Peter’s idea of chosenness reflects the providential, monotheistic Jewish understanding of God. Jewish and Christian debates about predestination and free will, however, were often forced to address ideas debated in the wider Greco-Roman milieu.52 It is therefore useful to survey some Greco-Roman conceptions of Fate and related ideas before examining predestination.
Sometimes modern readers, like some thinkers in antiquity, are tempted to engage the biblical idea of predestination as if it were an arbitrary determinism instead of benevolent providence. Unlike arbitrary Fate, the Jewish conception of predestination provided encouragement for God’s people. Distinguishing the concepts here, then, may be helpful.
Fate and Fortune
In contrast with what some earlier scholars have argued, pervasive obsession with fate characterized late antiquity more than the early empire in which Peter lived.53 Nevertheless, concern about fate was common long before Peter’s day.54 Thus, for example, Fortune often became the tutelary goddess of cities being founded in the Hellenistic era;55 she was patron deity of Syrian Antioch, for example.56 Public honor of Fortune and Fates continued in the Roman period. Romans worshiped Fortuna as a goddess;57 the cult of Tychē was thus influential, for example, in Roman Corinth.58 The Roman high priest sacrificed to and invoked the Fates in a public ritual;59 individuals might also call on them.60
In common understanding, Fate or Fortune controlled everything;61 nothing could resist her will,62 and she did with persons as she wished.63 Fortune controlled the station in life in which one was born;64 she could either act toward a person with apparent hostility65 or help a person.66 Many burial inscriptions complain that Fate is unavoidable.67 Some sources assimilate Zeus, as the supreme deity, to Fate or Fortune.68 Certainly for Stoics, Fate could be understood as identical to the supreme deity.69 In common Greek and Roman thought, even the gods were subject to Fate.70
People often lamented Fortune’s fickleness or even caprice.71 Some complained of Fate’s cruelty;72 some others (undoubtedly far fewer) responded that people ought not to complain about what happens, since we were born not to govern life but to submit to Fate.73 (Romans did envision another side of chance, personified as good luck,74 and might praise Fate for their benefits.)75 Certainly one ought not ridicule another’s misfortune, some reasoned, recognizing that “fate is common to all.”76
Some intellectuals criticized the popular attribution of everything to Fortune.77 Some cheerfully attributed misdeeds to fate and good behavior to choice.78 By contrast, a Stoic thinker opined that bad doings alone were not predestined.79 Another Stoic felt that most people shared the moral depravity of tyrants but lacked their “fortune” to indulge such depravity.80 Others harmonized fate with their moral sensibilities by suggesting that destiny decrees that the self-controlled should succeed whereas those who indulge passions should fail.81 Some writers observed the inconsistency of praising Fortune for victories and crucifying generals for failures.82
The question of whether the world was ruled by providence remained an ongoing debate between Stoics and Epicureans.83 Epicureans ridiculed the consistency of belief in Fate, noting that it eliminated personal responsibility.84 Logically, they might argue, there is no need to honor lesser gods if all, including those gods, is controlled by Fate.85 They also noted that it was difficult to harmonize the role of the three mythical Fates with Destiny and Fortune.86
Stoics, by contrast, embraced Fate and Providence.87 Some Cynics mocked Fortune, saying they had nothing hence could suffer nothing from its vagaries.88 Stoics and many Cynics89 were more apt to seek to cooperate with Fate, though again by holding nothing as permanent. Early Stoics treated Fate as endless causation, ruling all things.90 For Stoics closer to Peter’s era, order in the universe demonstrated providence.91 Likewise, Pythagoras reportedly affirmed the absolute control of Fate;92 Middle Platonists recognized fate but viewed as inconsequential anything under its power.93
Jewish writers in Greek adopted Greek descriptions for God’s sovereignty; thus God’s plan would be fulfilled by a strong “necessity,”94 and Jewish people often spoke of God’s “providence”95 and sometimes of “Fortune”96 and Destiny.97 Some Diaspora Jews even spoke of the “Fates.”98 The Jewish king Agrippa I commissioned a coin depicting the goddess Fortune, who was considered protectress of Caesarea.99 Most importantly, Josephus uses the Greek term for “Destiny” to distinguish the views of his three Judean “sects.”100 But for Josephus, fate expresses God’s plan and does not overrule it. Thus he mocks Greek myths in which fate rules over even Zeus.101
Philo likewise argues for God’s providence in human affairs.102 But while Philo acknowledges causes and effects, he denies blind Fate or Necessity; God, not Fate, rules the universe.103 Rejecting Stoic determinism, he may opt for the relative free-will doctrine of many philosophic contemporaries, rather than an absolute free-will doctrine such as found in Epicureanism.104 His understanding of providence, arguing against that of the Stoics, also differs from that of Platonism; he believes that God expresses providence in his care for individuals whom God favors.105
Alternatives to Determinism
Views in antiquity varied regarding the relationship among divine sovereignty, foreknowledge, and human choice. Thus Homeric deities could predict but not interfere with Fate.106 Some other writers disputed whether everything was foreordained or whether Fortune and chance act randomly;107 still others debated whether Fate and Nature were identical.108 One first-century poet opines that Delphic Apollo is great, “whether he merely predicts the future or the future is itself determined by the fiat of his utterance.”109
Many associated Fate with the stars, a trend that grew throughout the empire in late antiquity. Some believed that the stars predicted the future but did not control it;110 others believed that astrology simply revealed the unalterable future so one could accept it willingly.111 Some thinkers denied any connection between stars and mortals.112
Apollo could command while foreknowing that his hearer would disobey.113 Lucian, satirizing inconsistent views in Greek religion, notes that one cannot avert fate—the very attempt to do so would bring it to pass;114 therefore, why pay fees for oracles, since foreknowledge cannot change anything?115 Josephus follows this Greek conception in his portrayal of Ahab’s death: Fate let the false prophet seem more convincing, because even with foreknowledge one cannot escape from fate.116
Many thinkers reacted against the growing popular dominance of fatalistic determinism by emphasizing free will.117 For Stoics, freedom was simply the choice to accommodate fate willingly;118 yet first-century Stoics viewed this freedom as real.119 For Epictetus, the divine spark within the soul conferred such freedom;120 for Seneca the Younger, the very knowledge that all had been predetermined gave him freedom to follow God’s plan voluntarily rather than under compulsion.121 Even an early Stoic like Chrysippus may have viewed Fate as compatible with human control of decisions.122
Epicureans argued for total freedom, contending that “atoms” “swerve,” hence the course of matter is not determined;123 arguing against a long chain of causality, they denied Stoic determinism.124 Middle Platonists could affirm human freedom yet accept the accuracy of prophecy by viewing the latter as conditional.125 Later Platonists likewise argued that people were free to choose their moral course.126 Various other writers in late antiquity accepted both Fate and free choice.127
In the determinist mood of late antiquity, Christians and Jews had to qualify determinism to allow enough free will for moral responsibility.128 Well before the Christian era, Jews already usually assumed free will.129 Early in the first century, Philo already was grappling with how to articulate the balance.130 Philo uses free will to distance human sin from divine responsibility, yet his portrayal of God’s sovereignty may owe more to his general determinist outlook131 than to the biblical concept of God’s gracious election of Israel.132
In the late first century, Josephus characterizes questions about God’s sovereignty and human choice as a lively discussion among different Judean sects.133 A number of early Eastern church fathers, faced with the dominant philosophic questions of their era, also argued for free will,134 although later Western fathers for whom Pelagianism was the greater threat emphasized the other side of the question.135
Early Jewish Predestination
Nearly all Jews accepted God’s sovereignty,136 including over human hearts.137 Some segments of early Judaism included a heavy predestinarian element.138 This is especially evident in the Qumran scrolls and related literature.139 That is not surprising, since Josephus emphasizes the Essenes’ predilection toward predestination (though he overgeneralizes their view); his Sadducees deny it, whereas his Pharisees affirm both human choice and divine sovereignty.140 Josephus divides his three prominent Judean sects according to their different views on the matter. In Josephus’s view, the Essenes thought that fate governs everything;141 they thus appear as deterministic as the early Stoa.142 (Modern scholars usually think that Josephus overschematizes this picture.)143 The Qumran sectarians seem to have accepted double predestination, contrasting the “lot” of the community with that of Belial.144 Their view of God’s sovereignty extended to nature and the workings of all ages.145 First Enoch sometimes identifies the chosen with the righteous;146 in the Similitudes, it sounds as if Enoch is personally predestined for eternal life.147
Sadducees rejected Fate, attributing everything to human choice;148 they thus appear like the religiously skeptical Epicureans.
At one point Josephus attributes to Pharisees (whose mediating position he apparently favors) the view that Fate controls some events, but not all,149 a view that he later expresses in somewhat different language: although the Pharisees “postulate that everything is brought about by fate, still they do not deprive the human will of the pursuit of what is in man’s power, since it was God’s good pleasure that there should be a fusion and that the will of man with his virtue and vice should be admitted to the council-chambers of fate.”150 Although they “attribute everything to Fate and to God,” “they hold that to act rightly or otherwise rests, indeed, for the most part with men, but in each action Fate cooperates.”151
Most important for the concept of chosenness in 1 Peter,152 early Jewish sources, following Scripture,153 particularly emphasize the chosenness of Israel154 or (especially in the Dead Sea Scrolls) its righteous remnant.155 Jewish people emphasized God’s special election of Israel156 and not that of Abraham’s other descendants, sometimes predicated on his foreknowledge: “He did not choose them . . . because he knew them.”157 The Qumran sectarians could note, “You chose a people for yourself,”158 or have Israel cry, “You chose us as your own.”159 The Qumran scrolls often link predestination with God’s special favor toward Israel, often emphasizing his goodwill toward the elect.160 The emphasis on chosenness continues in the rabbis;161 God also chose Abraham162 and the other patriarchs.163
Most Jewish groups affirmed human responsibility alongside God’s sovereignty.164 According to one understanding of the early rabbis, “All is foreseen, but freedom of choice is given.”165 The consensus throughout rabbinic literature embraced both providence and free choice.166 This idea corresponds with the position that Josephus attributes to the Pharisees. Later rabbinic theodicy opines that Israel also chose God.167 In contrast to some systems then and later, most Jews probably viewed predestination and human responsibility as compatible. Early Christians probably shared the same conviction.168 Early Christian understanding of providence and predestination was much closer to the analogous Jewish notions than to common pagan notions of arbitrary determinism. Rather than impersonal, random chaos without rhyme or reason, Christians affirmed the trustworthy wisdom of a personal God with whom they had a relationship.
1:2
Although in the Greek text chosen precedes resident aliens dispersed, the majority of translations are right to connect it with foreknew in 1:2. Jewish teachers also recognized that God foreknew every thought before humans thought them;169 God had complete, eternal foreknowledge.170 “You alone know the end of times,” one writer proclaims, “before it has arrived.”171 An earlier writer has the angels confess to God, “You know everything before it happens.”172 God could thus arrange events with ultimate wisdom.173
Here (cf. 1:1) and in its only other NT use (Acts 2:23), this particular noun for foreknowledge (prognōsis) is closely connected with God’s choosing and plan (cf. also Jdt. 9:6). Early Christians also believed that God foreknew even all who would be saved (Rom. 8:29; Rev. 17:8). In other contexts, this noun can refer to human foreknowledge that is not causative, though it often refers to such foreknowledge that is divinely revealed.174 Peter also uses the cognate verb (proginōskō) in this chapter, a verb that, lexically, also need not entail causation (see discussion of the verb at 1 Pet. 1:20).175 Nevertheless, early Christians recognized that God knowing and God choosing or bringing about are closely connected (Acts 2:23; Rom. 8:29), as in earlier Scripture (see LXX Gen. 18:19; Jer. 1:5; Amos 3:2).
Most early church fathers predicated predestination on foreknowledge in the sense that God’s “choice depends on our foreseen response to his invitation.”176 Augustine, who came to emphasize predestination more than most Eastern fathers,177 continues to connect predestination and foreknowledge in some sense: “There is, in the foreknowledge of God, a predetermined limit and number of saints who love God.”178 Aquinas later views all events, including sins, as foreknown, but applies causative predestination to salvation.179 This emphasis may, however, reflect the specter of philosophic determinism against which Christians had to protect moral responsibility. Determinism, however, was probably less dominant for Peter’s first-century audience; Peter may simply echo biblical perspectives on God’s gracious choice of his people whom he foreknew (Rom. 11:2).
The mention of God the Father, the Spirit, and Jesus Christ so closely together here may presuppose a trinitarian or triadic, prototrinitarian understanding,180 as in, for example, 2 Cor. 13:13 nearly a decade earlier.181 For God as Father (1 Pet. 1:2) and his people as his children (1:14, 17), see the excursus “The Supreme Deity as Father in Ancient Thought” (at comment on 1 Pet. 1:17).
The reality of chosenness is effected by God’s Spirit. God’s Spirit consecrates his people apart for himself (for more discussion of such consecration, see comment on 1 Pet. 1:15–16, 22).182 Although early Jewish sources associate the Spirit of God or Holy Spirit especially with prophetic empowerment, a number of sources, especially in Essene circles, develop the biblical conception of the Spirit that purifies (Ezek. 36:25–27).183 Some early Christian writers also mention the purifying work of God’s Spirit (e.g., John 3:5; Titus 3:5), sometimes using consecration or sanctification language similar to here (Rom. 15:16; 1 Cor. 6:11). That is, they could associate the Holy Spirit, naturally enough, with holiness (cf. Rom. 1:4; 1 Thess. 4:7–8).184 In some sense God could choose (cf. 1 Pet. 1:1–2, though using a different term; or, perhaps, bring to pass his choice) his servants by such consecration by the Spirit and faith (2 Thess. 2:13, which includes consecration by the Spirit).
Jubilees, after a warning against the spirit of Beliar, who leads into sin (1:20), notes that God will “create a pure heart and a holy spirit”185 for Israel, purifying them to obey his will (1:21). The language echoes that of Ezekiel, who also associates Israel’s new heart and new spirit, as well as God’s own Spirit, with Israel’s restoration and obedience. Interestingly, some early Christian writers also emphasize this imagery from Ezekiel (e.g., John 3:5).186 Yet even the Qumran scrolls associate the Spirit with revelation more often than with purification.
Although the meaning of being sprinkled by blood seems foreign to most modern readers, this act was used to consecrate or purify sacred things or people.187 It might evoke the promise of obedience at the inauguration of the covenant (Exod. 24:7–8),188 though Peter prefers the more common verb for the sprinkling ritual.189 Biblically literate ancient hearers would understand its connection to consecrating (see comment on 1:22). God chose and foreknew his children, and set them apart by the blood of Christ for obedience to him.190 That is, as Peter reiterates in 1:3, God initiated the calling of these believers from among the nations, no less than he initiated it in the case of Israel. For the significance of Jesus’s blood, see comment on 1:19.
Obedience recurs in 1:14, 22, in at least 1:14 as a result of being God’s children (for 1:22, cf. 1:23). In 1:22, purification seems to coincide with obeying the truth—that is, embracing the good news. Here the obedience and sprinkling follow from God’s foreknowledge and choosing; possibly they signify continuing obedience and cleansing consequent on consecration and conversion (cf. 1 John 1:7), but they may, as probably in 1:22, refer to such conversion and consecration themselves.191
Although the mention of grace in Peter’s blessing is relevant to Peter’s interests in the letter (1:10, 13; 2:19–20; 3:7; 4:10; 5:5, 10, 12) and peace appears in 3:11 and 5:14, this combination of blessings is frequent in early Christian letters.192 It appears in all opening greetings attributed to Paul in the NT, as well as in 2 Pet. 1:2; 2 John 3; and Rev. 1:4.193 It adapts the standard Greek greeting chairein (Acts 15:23; 23:26; James 1:1) as charis (generosity or grace) and the Jewish greeting Well-being! or “Peace!” (e.g., Judg. 19:20). Some Jewish sources had already combined these194 before Christians did.
Jews used “Peace” as more than a greeting, however; it was a blessing, formally addressed to the recipient but implicitly functioning as a request (or at least hope) that God would bless the person with well-being (cf. Num. 6:26; Matt. 10:13; Luke 10:5). Here Peter offers what is sometimes called a “wish-prayer,”195 a prayer for his letter’s recipients to receive well-being (peace) and God’s generosity (grace). Prayers or wishes for a recipient’s well-being were extremely common in ancient letters (e.g., 3 John 2).196 The petition that the grace and peace might abound (also 2 Pet. 1:2; Jude 2) may have influenced subsequent models.197
1. Thurén, Strategy, 90; Martin, Metaphor, 42–47. For epistolary criticism, see esp. Weima, Letter Writer.
2. A matter without dissent in the earliest sources (e.g., Mark 3:14–16; Gal. 2:8; Ignatius, Rom. 4:3; Papias, Frag. 3:5; 5:2; 21:2).
3. Actually two special usages: the Gospels and Acts usually reserve the title to the Twelve; Paul and the Didache apply it more widely. Since the wider usage includes the narrower one, to which Peter belongs, it makes little difference which usage Peter thinks of here. For early Christianity’s broad use of “apostle,” see further Lightfoot, Galatians, 92–101.
4. See esp. m. Ber. 5:5; the connection appears at least as early as Jerome; for fuller discussion, see Keener, John, 310–15.
5. Mek. Pisha 1:87 (Lauterbach, 1:8); Sipra Behuq. pq. 13.277.1.13–14; Sipra Sav Mek. d. 98.9.6.
6. Sipre Deut. 5.1.1; 19.1.1; 25.5.1.
7. See, e.g., in Pliny E., Nat. 5.43.148–50; Appian, Hist. rom. 12.1.1–2; Mitchell, Anatolia, 1:98; Mitchell, “Archaeology,” 129–30, 186–88. Some (Ramsay, “Roads and Travel,” 402; Kelly, Peter, 41–42; Hemer, “Address”) suggest that the named provinces may be arranged in the geographic sequence of a messenger’s itinerary. I am less convinced (with Best, Peter, 15–16); Asia or (unmentioned) Troas would be a simpler starting point. The church was also likely stronger in Asia and Galatia, so the sequence might be random.
8. E.g., Rives, Religion, 55; later, Menander Rhetor, Treat. 1.2, 350.6–8.
9. E.g., Philo, Embassy 245; Josephus, Ant. 14.223–24, 230; 16.160, 167, 172.
10. See discussion in Keener, Galatians (2019), 15–22.
11. See Mitchell, Anatolia, 1:96
12. Josephus, Ant. 12.149; Mitchell, “Galatia,” 2:33, 35; Stern, “Diaspora,” 148–50; Meyers and Kraabel, “Archaeology,” 191.
13. On Cappadocia, see Pliny E., Nat. 6.3.8–6.4.14; Edwards, “Cappadocia”; Mitchell, “Archaeology,” 186–88; for Jews there, Hemer (Acts in History, 223) cites CIJ 910, 931. Chrysostom (Hom. Rom. 29) believes that Paul ministered in Cappadocia, but Chrysostom flourished in the fourth century; in Paul’s day, Cappadocia was primarily rural (Mitchell, Anatolia, 1:98). It was closely related historically to Pontus (Strabo, Geogr. 12.1.4).
14. Perhaps Paul’s converts elsewhere in Asia spread the message there (cf. Acts 19:10); Paul did not enter it in Acts 16:7. On Bithynia, see Strabo, Geogr. 12.3.1; 17.3.25; Pliny E., Nat. 5.43.148–50; Appian, Hist. rom. 12.1.1–2; Mitchell, “Archaeology,” 129–30; for Jews there, see Philo, Embassy 281. Given Bithynia’s unpleasant relationship with Roman administrators (Pliny Y., Ep. 6.13.1), Pliny’s repeated consultation with Rome in Ep. 10 is not surprising; in an earlier period it shared a proconsul with Asia (Velleius Paterculus, Comp. 2.42.3).
15. Cf. Wilson, “Cities.”
16. See Pliny Y., Ep. 10.96.
17. See Grant, Paul, 58–59, esp. on Lucian, Alex. 25. Rural Pontus may have lacked much Hellenized education (Lucian, Alex. 17).
18. Latourette, First Five Centuries, 171.
19. E.g., 1 Macc. 1:44.
20. E.g., Esther 9:20–32; Jer. 29:1; 2 Macc. 1:1; 2 Bar. 78–87 (fictitiously); Aune, Environment, 180, 185; Horrell, Peter, 8–9; cf. Bar. 1:7. Early Christian circular letters include Acts 15:23–29; James 1:1; Rev. 1:4; Mart. Pol. 20:1; and probably Ephesians.
21. Later sources report that he preached in these regions (Eusebius, Hist. eccl. 3.1.2 [but probably dependent on his understanding of 1 Pet. 1:1; cf. Hist. eccl. 3.4.2]); Watson (“Peter”) adds here Epiphanius, Pan. 27.7; Jerome, Vir. ill. 1. Jobes (Peter, 25–33) suggests that Peter knew some from Rome.
22. In light of Jer. 1:5, some church fathers saw Peter’s apostleship as what was foreknown (Oecumenius, Comm. 1 Pet. [PG 119:513]; Andreas Presbyter, Catena [CEC 42]; Bray, Peter, 66); but chosen is plural and foreknew belongs with it.
23. Israel’s exile is presented as a scattering or dispersion in Deut. 28:25; 30:4; Neh. 1:9; Ezek. 11:17; 36:19; Bar. 2:4, 13; 3:8; Tob. 13:3; Jdt. 5:19; 1 En. 89:75; T. Mos. 4:9; Josephus, Ant. 11.212; Ag. Ap. 1.33. For debate about the ideology of continuing exile (cf. 4Q176 f4–5.1–3; Pss. Sol. 17:26; Josephus, Ant. 11.133; 4 Ezra 13:40, 46–47), see Wright, Faithfulness, 139–62 (in my view persuasive); Evans, “Exile”; Bird, Gentile Mission, 39–44 (offering valuable qualifications); Pao, Isaianic Exodus, 143–46; Pitre, Last Supper, 463, 473; but also widely challenged (e.g., Kim, New Perspective, 136–41). Cf. Kraabel, “Unity,” 49, 58.
24. With, e.g., Moffatt, General Epistles, 89–90; Minear, Images, 61–62; Kelly, Peter, 40–41; on the frequency of this view, cf. Horn, “Christen.” Because they are gentile converts, van Unnik (“Christianity”) connects the language with proselytes (literally already Bede, Commentary, 69); figuratively, cf. Seland, Strangers, 56, 61, 72 (as cited in Joseph, “Reading,” 105). For believers as proselytes, cf. Rom. 11:17–18; Donaldson, “Riches”; Donaldson, “Convert.”
25. With, e.g., McKnight, “Aliens”; Smith, Strangers, 42 (more generally, 15–83); Martin (Metaphor, 144–61) views it as the letter’s controlling metaphor.
26. With, e.g., Elliott, Peter, 69.
27. Elliott, Home, 21–58; Elliott, Peter, 457, 476–83; cf. Pilch, “Strangers.” Elliott (Home, xxviii–xxx; Peter, 481–82) allows for both literal and figurative dimensions. While Elliott is correct that their status as literal aliens has not been disproved, the figurative usage seems sufficiently clear, thereby rendering the literal status also unproved. Jobes (Peter, xi, 23–33, 61) views them as Christians converted in Rome but subsequently displaced to Asia Minor. Would enough have been sent to colonies (Jobes, Peter, 29–32; much of her evidence applies simply to Claudius granting colony status) to account for Peter’s general address in 1:1? Much more convincingly, she notes the expulsion under Claudius (Jobes, Peter, 32–33; cf. Suetonius, Claud. 25.4; Keener, “Edict”; Keener, Acts, 3:2697–710, esp. 2708–10). More, however, would be displaced to locations such as Corinth. Moreover, her argument could require Peter’s presence in Rome before 49 CE. While that suggestion is not impossible (see Eusebius, Hist. eccl. 2.14.5; Wenham, “Peter to Rome?”), neither does it seem very likely (Fitzmyer, Acts, 489; Das, Romans Debate, 24–25; Keener, Acts, 2:1952).
28. Elliott, Peter, 480–81.
29. On dead metaphors as a category, see, helpfully, e.g., Traugott, “Metaphors Revisited”; Deignan, Metaphor, 36–41, 47, 138; in biblical studies, Foreman, Metaphors, 16–20. Still, even the contours of this distinction remain contested (cf. Müller, Metaphors, esp. 210).
30. Bechtler, Steps, 74–83 (as cited in Joseph, “Reading,” 104); Martin, Metaphor; Wikenhauser, Introduction, 500; Storm, “Pilgrim People”; Achtemeier, Peter, 81–82; Prasad, Foundations, 244–59 (though allowing the possibility of both readings, 257–58); Senior, Peter, 9–10; Feldmeier, Peter, 13–17; Schreiner, Peter, 50; Powell, New Testament, 484; Hockey, Role of Emotion, 263n21; cf. Bede, Commentary, 70.
31. Minority cultures can remain largely invisible to dominant cultures (rightly, Whitley and Kite, Psychology2, 419), but resident aliens’ existence, at least, was visible to citizens.
32. Aeschylus, Suppl. 202–3, 917. Cf. the ideas in Acts 7:6, 29; 13:17; Eph. 2:19; Heb. 11:9; often in the LXX.
33. Rapske, Custody, 141.
34. Cartledge, “Metoikos,” 810.
35. Plutarch, Lect. 2, Mor. 37EF.
36. Watson, “Cities,” 212.
37. Cartledge, “Metoikos,” 812.
38. Dio Chrysostom, Or. 31.3. On this residence tax, see also Lucian, Parl. 3 (in the comic dialogue as a whole, the Olympians have to purge from their citizenship roll all the aliens who had been added over time, such as Mithras, who does not even understand Greek [Parl. 9]).
39. Aeschines, Leg. 78, 172.
40. Cartledge (“Metoikos,” 813) notes their presence “in some seventy cities of the Hellenistic as well as the classical periods.” Catiline contests Cicero’s accusations by demeaning his accuser as a resident alien (Sallust, Catil. 31.7).
41. Dio Chrysostom, Or. 34.21–23, noting in 34.23 that their linen workers normally had to pay five hundred drachmas to achieve citizenship.
42. Five hundred drachmas in Tarsus (Dio Chrysostom, Or. 34.23). “Wealthy benefactors” sometimes achieved citizenship (Harland, Associations, 102).
43. Meeks, Moral World, 28. Noncitizens in Rome, including Jewish noncitizens, were resident aliens (Lyall, Slaves, 236).
44. Stowers, Letter Writing, 42; cf. Aune, Environment, 221.
45. Rabello, “Condition,” 725.
46. 3 Macc. 6:3.
47. See, e.g., Elliott, “Counterculture”; Rensburg, “Aliens”; Moy, “Resident Aliens”; cf. Steuernagel, “Community”; for homeland, Obermann, “Fremd.”
48. Philo, QG 3.45 (trans. Colson and Whitaker, LCL, 1:240).
49. Philo, Confusion 81 (trans. Colson and Whitaker, LCL, 4:55). For Philo’s allegorical use of exile motifs, see further Runia, “Flight.” Note esp. Abraham’s migration from the sensory world to the cognitive realm, in Migration passim, in Congourdeau, “Exil.”
50. See, helpfully, Winter, Welfare, 15–17.
51. Adapted and greatly condensed from Keener, Acts, 1:927–38.
52. Cf. the Hellenistic ideas in L.A.B. 13:6; Urbach, Sages, 1:256; the challenge in Sent. Sextus 436.
53. Cf. Denzey, “Enslavement” (rightly, against Cumont, E. R. Dodds).
54. See, e.g., Horace, Odes 2.17.16; 3.24.6 (Necessity); Song 25. On Fate, see further, e.g., Frede, “Fate” (including on philosophic theories, 367–68).
55. Nilsson, Piety, 94; on her importance as a goddess for the Hellenistic world, see Tarn, Civilisation, 340.
56. Stambaugh and Balch, Environment, 146. In the Roman period, she was patron deity of Caesarea in Judea; see Carmon, Inscriptions, §211 (Eng. p. 100; Heb. p. 216).
57. See Graf, “Fortuna.” Fortuna was more an abstraction than personalized (Lind, “Abstraction”).
58. Engels, Roman Corinth, 99. We know that Fortune was also among the gods worshiped at Ephesus (I.Eph. 1237; 3817.1) and Pisidian Antioch (I.Eph. 1238).
59. Sherk, Empire, §11, p. 21.
60. So Apuleius, Metam. 6.28. For the three mythical Fates, see, e.g., Lycophron, Alex. 584, 716; Martial, Epigr. 4.73; Juvenal, Sat. 9.135–36; Philostratus, Vit. Apoll. 4.1; 8.31; and passim; in more detail, Apollodorus, Bibl. 1.3.1.
61. Demosthenes, Or. 60.21 (“lord over all,” in a funeral oration); Thales in Diogenes Laertius, Lives 1.35 (Necessity); Heraclitus in Diogenes Laertius, Lives 9.1.7 (Destiny); Democritus in Diogenes Laertius, Lives 9.7.45 (Necessity); Plutarch, Aem. Paul., e.g., 36.1; Alciphron, Farm. 4 (Eupetalus to Elation), 1.25; Lucian, Z. Cat. 1.
62. Aeschylus, Suppl. 1046–47; Chariton, Chaer. 2.8.4; Apuleius, Metam. 9.1.
63. E.g., Seneca Y., Dial. 6.16.5; Apuleius, Metam. 10.13.
64. Cicero, Inv. 1.25.35 (though he believed that nature’s demands were higher than Fortune’s [Off. 1.33.120]). Epicureans, by contrast, simply attributed them to chance (Lucretius, Nat. 1.455–58).
65. E.g., Achilles Tatius, Leuc. Clit. 6.3.1; slaying people in Homer, Il. 16.849, 853; Virgil, Aen. 11.43 (Fortuna); Horace, Odes 4.13.22–23; Epod. 13.15; Propertius, Eleg. 2.28.25; Quintilian, Inst. 6.pref. 1–2; Seneca Y., Apocol. 3; Silius Italicus, Pun. 3.134–35; T. Sol. 8:7.
66. E.g., Seneca Y., Dial. 7.23.2; Juvenal, Sat. 12.63–65; Achilles Tatius, Leuc. Clit. 1.3.2; 4.1.3; 7.13.1. Cf. Horace’s portrayal of Fortune (Odes 1.7.25; 1.31.10; 1.34.14–16; 1.37.11–12; 2.1.3; 4.14.37; Epod. 4.6) and Fate (favorably in Odes 3.9.12; 4.2.38).
67. E.g., Horsley, Documents 4, §5, pp. 20–21; §6, p. 25; §9, pp. 33–34; see also Sherk, Empire, §168G, p. 217 (including, e.g., CIL 2.4314). Some complained that at least death freed them from fate (Menander Rhetor, Treat. 2.9, 414.9–10).
68. Aeschylus, Suppl. 1046–49; Pindar, Pyth. 5.122–23; Dio Chrysostom, Or. 64.9; Maximus of Tyre, Or. 4.8; cf. Zeus as guide of Fate in Pausanias, Descr. 8.37.1; Zeus decreeing all things together with the Fates in Epictetus, Diatr. 1.12.25. But in Homer, Od. 1.32–43, Zeus attributes some bad fortune to human malice rather than divine choice; in Maximus of Tyre, Or. 5.1, bad things come not from the gods but from chance; Aelius Aristides (Def. Or. 336, §111D) opines that human misdeeds come from human rather than divine choices.
69. Klauck, Context, 353.
70. E.g., Homer, Il. 18.94–96; Herodotus, Hist. 1.91; Virgil, Aen. 7.314–15; Ovid, Metam. 15.808–9; Seneca Y., Dial. 1.5.8; more complex is the picture in Silius Italicus, Pun. 17.374, 385. Apollonius was pleasing to the Fates (Philostratus, Vit. Apoll. 4.1).
71. Polybius, Hist. 29.21.1–6, 9; 38.21.2–3; Dionysius of Halicarnassus, Rom. Ant. 9.25.3; Terence, Moth. 406; Cornelius Nepos, Gen. 10 (Dion), 6.1; 13 (Timotheus), 4.1; Valerius Maximus, Mem. 7.1.pref.; Pliny E., Nat. 2.5.22; 7.41.133–7.43.141; Tacitus, Hist. 4.47; Apuleius, Metam. 7.2. Some spoke of Necessity (Horace, Odes 3.1.14–15) or Fortune (Dio Chrysostom, Or. 64.8) as “impartial,” but many viewed it as randomness (cf. Martial, Epigr. 4.21, regarding the gods not avenging). Some nevertheless entreated Fortune for help (Apuleius, Metam. 6.28).
72. Polybius, Hist. 29.21.1–6; Horace, Odes 2.6.9; CIL 11.1421 (Sherk, Empire, §19, p. 34); Lucan, Civ. W. 1.114; cf. “Necessity” as a “grim goddess” (Horace, Odes 1.35.17). This is frequent even in novels with happy endings (Achilles Tatius, Leuc. Clit. 5.11.1; Chariton, Chaer. 5.1.4; 5.5.2; Apuleius, Metam. 7.16).
73. Plutarch, Apoll. 18, Mor. 111E.
74. See Schaffner, “Felicitas,” 377. Earlier Greeks also believed that Fortune could bestow good things on a people (e.g., Isocrates, Paneg. 26).
75. Petronius, Sat. 29 (ridiculing Trimalchio); ILS 1980 (from Ravenna) (Sherk, Empire, §178H, p. 238).
76. Isocrates, Demon. 29.
77. Pliny E., Nat. 2.5.22–25, esp. 22. Some responded that Fortune was all the worthier of praise for such control (Dio Chrysostom, Or. 64; cf. also Or. 63; 65).
78. Plotinus, Enn. 3.1.10. Some attributed their own misdeeds to fortune (e.g., Aeschylus, Lib. 910–11; others noted in Dio Chrysostom, Or. 64.2; also for protagonists’ acts in Chariton, Chaer. 2.8.4). Cf. passion blamed on Fate or Fortune (Gorgias, Hel. 6; Propertius, Eleg. 1.6.30). Blaming behavior on fate was a way to evade responsibility (Maximus of Tyre, Or. 13.8–9).
79. Long, Philosophy, 181.
80. Musonius Rufus, 23.
81. Plutarch, Poetry 6, Mor. 23DE.
82. Valerius Maximus, Mem. 2.7.ext. 1 (on the Carthaginians). For victories depending on Fortune’s favor, see, e.g., Dionysius of Halicarnassus, Rom. Ant. 6.21.1; Virgil, Aen. 9.282; Fortune predicted Philip’s rule over Greece (Plutarch, Demosth. 19.1). Fortune helped both Athens (Demosthenes, [4] Philip. 38) and Philip (Demosthenes, Ep. Philip 15).
83. Quintilian, Inst. 5.7.35. As Marcus Aurelius (Medit. 4.2) summarizes it, “Either Providence or Atoms.” Later philosophers often sided with the Stoics (e.g., Iamblichus, Ep. 8, frg. 4, in Stobaeus, Anth. 2.8.45).
84. So Lucian, Dial. D. 410–11 (27/19, Aeacus and Protesilaus 1–2); Dial. D. 451 (24/30, Minos and Sostratus 2).
85. Lucian, Z. Cat. 5–7, 19. Contrast other thinkers, e.g., Iamblichus, Ep. 11.1 (Stobaeus, Anth. 1.1.35).
86. Lucian, Z. Cat. 2.
87. See Providence in Musonius Rufus, 47, p. 140; Epictetus, Diatr. 1.6; 3.17; Marcus Aurelius, Medit. 2.3; 12.1.1. One should submit to whatever happens, for it is not an evil (Epictetus, Diatr. 3.17). On Necessity in the philosophers, see Hübner, “Necessity.”
88. Dio Chrysostom, Or. 64.18 (Dio disapproving).
89. E.g., Pseudo-Crates, Ep. 35.
90. Cicero, Top. 15.59; Diogenes Laertius, Lives 7.1.149 (citing Chrysippus, Fat.; Posidonius in Chrysippus, Fat. bk. 2; Zeno and Boethus in bk. 1). On causation in Stoicism, see Long, Philosophy, 163–70.
91. Seneca Y., Dial. 1.1.2 (cf. Dial. 12.8.3); Epictetus, Diatr. 1.6.1. Belief in providence in human affairs also appears in Chrysippus in Aulus Gellius, Att. 7.1. By contrast, Cicero (Fat.) argues that chance explains events as well as fate does. Romans honored Providence; Cicero’s discussion of Stoic providence affected Augustan propaganda (Schlapbach, “Providentia”).
92. Diogenes Laertius, Lives 8.1.27.
93. Porphyry, Marc. 30.470–76.
94. Sib. Or. 3:571–72; cf. Wis. 19:4; Josephus, Ant. 8.419.
95. E.g., 3 Macc. 4:21; Let. Aris. 201; Sib. Or. 5:227, 324; Josephus, Ant. 10.277–78.
96. Josephus, Ant. 18.54 (and often in Josephus); Aune, Environment, 108; Attridge, “Historiography,” 327.
97. Josephus, J.W. 6.84. Cf. possibly even “destiny” in 1QS (Dombrowski, “Misfortune”).
98. Sib. Or. 5:215, 230, 245 (probably late first- to early second-century CE Egypt); cf. Sib. Or. 1:294; T. Sol. 8:3.
99. Carmon, Inscriptions, §211 (Eng. p. 100; Heb. p. 216). Tychē is prominent on many coins, often assimilated to the Roman Fortuna or Dea Roma (Gersht, “Tyche”).
100. Josephus, Ant. 13.171–73. Martin (“Heimarmene”) argues that Josephus uses popular astrological (more than Stoic) language and that Josephus views Israel as freed from fate to freely obey God.
101. Josephus, Ag. Ap. 2.245.
102. See fragments of Philo, On Providence in LCL, 9:458–507.
103. Philo, Heir 300–301.
104. See Sterling, Ancestral Philosophy, 135–50, esp. 149–50; Winston, Freedom, 14–15 (also the responses by Dillon and Eisenberg); cf. Winston, “Freedom” (emphasizing determinism and rejecting absolute free will).
105. Wolfson, Philo, 1:180.
106. E.g., Homer, Il. 18.94–96 (Thetis).
107. Lucan, Civ. W. 2.10–13. Pseudo-Plutarch (On Fate, Mor. 568B–574F) distinguishes fate from providence and (against Stoicism) notes interruptions in the causal chain. Maximus of Tyre (Or. 5.4) differentiates four causes: divine providence, necessity, human activity, and chance. Ptolemy (Tetrab. 1.3.11–12) distinguishes between irresistible and more resistible forces.
108. Aulus Gellius, Att. 13.1. Some doubted that they were (e.g., Cicero, Off. 1.33.120), whereas for Stoics they would be interwoven (Marcus Aurelius, Medit. 2.3) (Murray, Philosophy, 40–41).
109. Lucan, Civ. W. 5.91–93 (trans. Duff, LCL, p. 245).
110. The Neoplatonist Plotinus, Enn. 2.3; 3.1; 3.3.6.
111. Klauck, Context, 247. Seneca Y. (Lucil. 88.14–15) criticizes worrying over astrological predictions of Fate that one could not change anyway.
112. Pliny E., Nat. 2.6.28–30; Epicurus in Long, Philosophy, 41–42.
113. Epictetus, Diatr. 3.1.16–17.
114. Lucian, Z. Cat. 12. The view that attempting to avert prophecies leads to their fulfillment appears elsewhere (e.g., 1 Kings 22:30–35; Babrius, Fab. 136; Valerius Maximus, Mem. 1.8.ext. 9).
115. Lucian, Z. Cat. 13. On this point biblical oracles differ, since they are often warnings (2 Kings 20:1–6; Jon. 4; Jer. 18:7–10).
116. Josephus, Ant. 8.409, 419; cf. 18.54.
117. E.g., Aristotle, Eth. eud. 2.6.1–11, 1222b–1223a; Cicero, Fat. passim; Plutarch, Peri tuchēs (On Chance), Mor. 97C–100A; cf. Plutarch, Cor. 32.4–5; see Bobzien, “Conception.” For one survey of the range of solutions to the apparent contradiction between Fate and free will, see Dihle, “Liberté.”
118. See, e.g., Seneca Y., Lucil. 54.7; Klauck, Context, 375; Murray, Philosophy, 44.
119. They affirmed both causality (with teleology and providence) and human will (see Long, “Freedom”), the universal causal principle dwelling in each person’s share in the Logos (Long, “Freedom,” 194).
120. E.g., Epictetus, Diatr. 1.17.27; on human freedom, see further, e.g., Diatr. 1.6.40; 4.6.5. Some argue that Epictetus’s slave background influenced his emphasis on freedom (Oldfather, “Introduction,” vii–viii), but the emphasis was hardly limited to him (see, e.g., over fifty sources besides Epictetus in Keener, John, 750–51), though some later Stoics quoted him (Marcus Aurelius, Medit. 9.36).
121. E.g., Seneca Y., Dial. 1.5.6.
122. Aulus Gellius, Att. 7.2.
123. Lucretius, Nat. 2.225–50. Randomness may occur in particle physics today, though of course these particles are not Epicurean “atoms.”
124. Lucretius, Nat. 2.251–60. Motions begin in the mind, which then acts on the body (Nat. 2.261–65).
125. Maximus of Tyre, Or. 13.5. Scholars debate the emphasis Philo gives to each, but no one debates that he includes both free and deterministic elements.
126. Plotinus, Enn. 3.1. Traveling a mediating course, he rejects control by the stars (Enn. 2.3, arguing that Soul controls), yet accepts stars and other signs for divination because of the universe’s unity and correspondence (Enn. 3.3.6).
127. E.g., Iamblichus, Vit. pyth. 32.218.
128. Cook, Dogma, 151–52, 156.
129. E.g., Pss. Sol. 9:4; cf. Segalla, “Problema.” For various views on Ben Sira, see Boccaccini, Judaism, 105–9; Winston, “Determinism”; Kaiser, “Rezeption.”
130. On the deterministic side, see, e.g., Winston, Freedom; Winston, “Freedom”; on the free will side, see Wolfson, Philo, 1:424–62. See brief discussion above on Philo.
131. See Winston, Freedom; Winston, “Freedom.” By contrast, Wolfson (Philo, 1:424–62) argues more for free will in Philo.
132. Carson, “Sovereignty in Philo.”
133. Josephus, Ant. 13.171–73; J.W. 2.162–65.
134. Justin, Dial. 141; 1 Apol. 43; Tatian, Or. Graec. 11 (arguing against Fate in 8–10); Ps.-Clem. Hom. 4.12.3–4 (rejecting Fate as an abdication of moral responsibility); 4.13.1–2 (rejecting random chance, hence, by implication, Epicureanism). Part of Justin’s concern was apologetic against the Gnostic predestinarian perspective (Chadwick, Early Church, 77).
135. E.g., Ambrosiaster (Bray, “Ambrosiaster,” 36–37) and the later Augustine, after a long shift (see Bright, “Augustine,” 76–78; Reasoner, Full Circle, 71–72, 97, 100, 106; Roach, “Choice”; contrast earlier Augustine in Rom. 62; Simpl. 1.2.1; 10; see Bray, Romans, 244, 249, 254, 257).
136. E.g., Let. Aris. 17, 195, 210, 227, 239, 244, 255, 266–72, 287; Wis. 7:15–16; T. Mos. 12:4; T. Job 37; 2 En. 33:7.
137. E.g., Gen. 13:6–9; 36:6–7; Deut. 29:4; Prov. 21:1; Jer. 32:40; Let. Aris. 231, 237–38, 243, 246, 252, 267, 270–72, 274, 276, 278, 282, 290; Sib. Or. 1:304.
138. See, e.g., Sterling, Ancestral Philosophy, 44–56. This appears true even in the LXX (see Carson, Sovereignty, 42–44). Carson (Sovereignty, 74) argues that apocalyptic literature tends to deemphasize election; in a different sense, however, determinism features heavily in apocalyptic (Arrington, Aeon Theology, 74–77).
139. E.g., 1QS 11.11; 1QHa 7.26–28; 4Q180 f1.2; 4Q403 f1i.27; 1 En. 1:1–3, 8; 5:7–8; 25:5; 38:4; 48:1, 9; 50:1; 58:1; 61:4, 12; 93:2; Jub. 11:17; T. Job 4:11/9. They probably go beyond the OT (see Carson, Sovereignty, 83).
140. Josephus, Ant. 13.172–73; 18.3; J.W. 2.162–64. Despite Josephus’s presentation of the Essenes (Ant. 18.18), however, even the DSS do not completely deny free will (Nötscher, “Schicksalsglaube”; Driver, Scrolls, 558–62; Marx, “Prédestination”; Sanders, Judaism, 251).
141. Josephus, Ant. 13.172. This may influence Josephus’s view about them foretelling the future accurately (J.W. 2.159).
142. Some compare instead Platonists here (cf. Pines, “Model”).
143. Most scholars argue that Qumran sectarians accepted both predestination and free will; see, e.g., Vermes, Scrolls, 52; Price, “Light from Qumran,” 17; Driver, Scrolls, 558–62; Brown, Essays, 151–54; Sanders, Judaism, 251; Nötscher, “Schicksalsglaube.”
144. 1QM 1.5. For double predestination, see also 11Q13 col. 2, lines 8, 12.
145. 1QS 10.1–5; 4Q180 f1.2–3.
146. 1 En. 1:1, 8; 5:7–8; 25:5; 93:2, 10; cf. Jeremiah in 4 Bar. 1:1, 5, 8; 3:5, 7; 7:9, 16.
147. 1 En. 37:4; 39:8–9. Cf. the use of “chosen one” in, e.g., 39:6; 45:3–4; 48:6, 9; 51:3; 53:6; 55:4; 61:8, some for an exalted personage.
148. Josephus, J.W. 2.164–65; Ant. 13.173.
149. Josephus, Ant. 13.172.
150. Josephus, Ant. 18.13 (trans. Feldman, LCL, 8:11–13).
151. Josephus, J.W. 2.162–63 (trans. Thackeray, LCL, 2:385). See more developed discussion in Klawans, “Fate.”
152. And elsewhere in early Christianity, e.g., Col. 3:12; 2 Thess. 2:13; 1 Clem. 50:7.
153. See, e.g., Deut. 4:37; 10:15; 1 Chron. 16:13; Ps. 105:6 (LXX 104:6); Neh. 9:7; Isa. 42:1; 45:4; 65:9; Jer. 33:24. See further Joseph, “Reading,” 97–102.
154. E.g., Sir. 46:1; 47:22; 2 Macc. 1:25; Jub. 1:29; 22:9–10; 2 Bar. 48:20. See further Sanders, Paul and Judaism, 84–106, 329–33, 362–64, 389–90; Wright, People of God, 259–68.
155. 1QS 1.10; 2.5; 9.14; 11.7; 1QM 10.9–10; 12.1, 4; 15.1–2; 17.7; 1QpHab 5.3; 9.12; 10.13; 4QpPs 37 (4Q171) frg. 1; 4Q164 frg. 1.3; 4Q171 frg. 1 2.ii.5; 4Q171 frg. 1 + 3 4.iii.5; 4Q171 frg. 3 10.iv.14; 4Q174 frg. 1 2.i.19; 3.ii.2; 4Q381 frg. 46a + b.5; 4Q504 frg. 1 2R.iii.9. See further Sanders, Paul and Judaism, 257–70.
156. E.g., Jub. 19:18; 2 Bar. 48:20.
157. Jub. 15:30.
158. 1Q34, and 1Q34bis frg. 3, col. 2, line 5.
159. 4Q504 col. 3, line 9.
160. Flusser, Judaism, 32–33.
161. Mek. Pisha 1:135ff.; Shir. 9.118ff.; Gen. Rab. 1:4; cf. Urbach, Sages, 1:524–41; Sanders, Paul and Judaism, 88–107; on foreknowledge, see, e.g., Marmorstein, Names, 154. On an individual level, it is possible that some rabbis accepted predestination of the righteous but not the wicked (y. Ber. 1:5, §7); one who suffered Persian persecution accepted the corporate predestination of the Persians for damnation (b. Ber. 8b). God foreknows what he will do but relates to humans in their time (ʾAbot R. Nat. 37 A).
162. Neh. 9:7; Apoc. Ab. 14:2; Num. Rab. 3:2.
163. E.g., 4Q266 frg. 11.11; 2 Macc. 1:25; Jub. 19:18; 22:10; Num. Rab. 3:2.
164. E.g., Pss. Sol. 9:4; Sipre Deut. 319.3.1; cf. Boccaccini, Judaism, 105–9; Wolfson, Philo, 1:424–62; Urbach, Sages, 1:268–69; Bonsirven, Judaism, 17, 20, 100. Cf. conditional promises, as in, e.g., Gen. 18:19.
165. m. ʾAbot 3:16 (trans. Danby, Mishnah, 452; the reference is 3:15 in my Hebrew text); cf. Moore, Judaism, 1:454ff.; Bonsirven, Judaism, 17, 100; Urbach, Sages, 1:268–69. The Hebrew could, however, be rendered differently.
166. E.g., Sipre Deut. 312.1.1–2; 319.3.1. Moore, Judaism, 1:454ff.; Urbach, Sages, 1:268–69 (for astrology, 276–77). Later rabbis reacted even against the moral determinism of the fall, though perhaps partly because of Christian exploitation of the fall (Hayman, “Fall”).
167. Sipre Deut. 312.1.1–2; Num. Rab. 14:10.
168. See, e.g., Lee, “Tension.” God is not responsible for people’s resistance and lostness; Didymus the Blind, Comm. 1 Pet. (PG 39:1762–63); Oecumenius, Comm. 1 Pet. (PG 119:533; Bray, Peter, 86–87). For John, early Christianity, and its Jewish setting, see esp. the thorough study of Carson, Sovereignty.
169. Gen. Rab. 9:3; cf. Ps. 139:4.
170. Sir. 23:20; 1QS 4.25; 11.11; CD 2.9–10; 1 En. 39:11; Let. Aris. 132–33.
171. 2 Bar. 21:8 (trans. Klijn, OTP 1:628).
172. 1 En. 9:11 (trans. Knibb, Ethiopic Book of Enoch, 86); Isaac (OTP 1:17) translates, “You know everything (even) before it came to existence.”
173. E.g., later, Eccl. Rab. 3:11, §2.
174. See Josephus, Ant. 8.234, 418; 13.300; 15.373; 17.43; 18.201; pagan revelation in Ag. Ap. 1.232. It can thus be the result of some causation rather than causative itself. On 1 Pet. 1:2, see Didymus the Blind, Comm. 1 Pet. (PG 39:1755–56), in Bray, Peter, 66.
175. Cf. also 2 Pet. 3:17, although it rests on divine truth (3:15); similarly Wis. 18:6. Wis. 8:8 may speak of what we call foresight (cf. eikazō in the second line). See esp. the careful study by Himes, Foreknowledge, esp. the summary on 182.
176. Edwards, Galatians, xix. Note, e.g., Severian of Gabala, Paul. Comm. (NTAbh 15:232; Bray, Corinthians, 23); Origen, Comm. Rom. 7.7.5 (Reasoner, Full Circle, 87; Burns, Romans, 209–10); Comm. Rom. on 8:29 (Bray, Romans, 234–35); Ambrosiaster, Comm. Rom. 8.29 (Burns, Romans, 211); Theodoret of Cyrrhus, Comm. Rom. 8.29–30 (Burns, Romans, 211; Bray, Romans, 237).
177. See Burns, Romans, 217.
178. Augustine, Letters 186 (Bray, Romans, 234, on Rom. 8:28).
179. To guard against salvation merely by foreknown works; Levy, Krey, and Ryan, Romans, 208.
180. With Selwyn, Peter, 247–50; Davids, Peter, 22, 47; Bony, “Lecture I”; Jobes, Peter, 68; Watson, “Peter,” 22; Schreiner, Peter, 49; Edwards, Peter, 31–32; in the following blessing, cf. Baldanza, “Euloghia” (EphLit); Baldanza, “Euloghia” (Laur); Baldanza, “Euloghia” (RevistB). Not all those who view it as triadic find the Spirit already clearly indicated as a person (Goppelt, Peter, 72).
181. 2 Cor. 13:14 in some versions; cf. also Rom. 15:30; 1 Cor. 12:4–6; Gal. 4:6; Eph. 4:4–6; Matt. 28:19; note discussion in Fee, Presence, 839–42; Fee, “Christology and Pneumatology”; Watson, “Identity”; Grieb, “People of God.”
182. Cf. here O’Connor, “Holiness.”
183. E.g., 1QS 3.7; 4.21 (cf. initiatory ritual immersion in the context in 3.4, 8–9). See further 1QH 8.30; 16; 4Q255 frg. 2.1; 4Q257 3.10; 4Q444 frg. 1, col. 1, lines 1–4; Jub. 1:20–23; Chevallier, Souffle, 56–57; Coppens, “Don,” 211–12, 222; Puech, “Esprit”; Bruce, “Spirit in Qumran Texts,” 52–54; Hur, Reading, 230; Keener, “Pneumatology,” 65–69; Smith, “Spirit of Holiness,” 98; Wenk, Power, 98–111; Bennema, Power, 51–99; Menzies, Empowered, 71–82. T. Sim. 4:4 associates God’s Spirit with doing good; cf. T. Benj. 8:3 (though this might belong to a Christian interpolation).
184. Cf. again 1QS 3.7; 4.21; 11Q17 9.5.
185. Probably the pure heart and the holy spirit are meant to be identical.
186. See Keener, John, 546–55, esp. 551–52; Keener, Spirit, 143–46.
187. See, e.g., Exod. 29:16, 20–21; Lev. 1:5, 11; 3:2, 8, 13; 4:6, 17; 5:9; 7:2; 8:19, 24, 30; 9:12, 18; 14:51; 16:14–15, 19; 17:6; Num. 19:4; 2 Chron. 29:22; Ezek. 43:18; 4Q220 f1.3; 4Q365 f9b.2.2–3; 11Q19 52.21; Philo, Moses 2.152; Spec. Laws 1.199, 231, 268; Heb. 9:21; Josephus, Ant. 3.205, 226, 228, 231, 242; 4.79; b. Yoma 14a, 56b; b. B. Qam. 76b. It also signified Passover (2 Chron. 30:16; 35:11; Heb. 11:28) and inaugurating the covenant (Exod. 24:6–8; Jub. 6:11; Heb. 9:19; 12:24). Barn. 5:1 also associates ritual purification with Jesus’s sprinkled blood. Pagans might view sprinkling as an inferior alternative to full-body purification (Macrobius, Sat. 3.1.6).
188. Dunn, Baptism, 220; Arichea, “God or Christ,” 413; Michaels, Peter, 12; Davids, Peter, 49; Achtemeier, Peter, 88–89; Elliott, Peter, 320; Senior, Peter, 26, 29; Schreiner, Peter, 56; Feldmeier, Peter, 58. Donelson (Peter, 27) suggests instead an association with Christ’s suffering that in 1 Peter believers share.
189. The LXX employs a distinctive verb here, employing it just once; Josephus employs it for pouring (Ant. 8.341) and never uses the common LXX term for sprinkling.
190. Some object to rendering Iēsou Christou as an objective genitive for “obedience” and also a possessive genitive for “blood” (Achtemeier, Peter, 87; Schreiner, Peter, 55; Jobes, Peter, 71). Koine hearers were probably less strict in dividing such categories (cf., e.g., ESV, NASB, NIV, NRSV, WEB), but out of deference to the debate I have opted to leave the object of obedience ambiguous here (cf. 1:14, 22; 4:17; ASV; KJV; NET; LSG).
191. For conversion as a form of “obeying” the truth or the gospel, cf. Acts 6:7; Rom. 6:17; 10:16; 2 Thess. 1:8.
192. I borrow comments here from Keener, Galatians (2019), 52.
193. Also 1 Clem. 1; Ignatius, Smyrn. 12:2.
194. 2 Macc. 1:1; cf. 2 Bar. 78:2.
195. Wiles, Prayers, 25–27, 71. For examples of such blessings grammatically directed to the hearer but implicitly to God, see 1QS 2.4, 9; Let. Aris. 185; ʾAbot R. Nat. 8A.
196. E.g., P.Cair.Zen. 59060.1; P.Oxy. 292; P.Lond. 42; P.Giss. 80.13; CPJ 1:244–45, §132; Cicero, Fam. 14.8.1; Seneca Y., Lucil. 10.4; Fronto, M. Caes. 5.25 (40); Ant. imp. 1.2.1; 2.4; Philostratus, Apoll. ep. 48; Diogenes Laertius, Lives 8.4.79; Let. Aris. 35; 2 Macc. 9:19; 3 Macc. 7:1–2, 9. Cf. further Kim, Letter of Recommendation, 15–16, 25–34; Stowers, Letter Writing, 20, 74; Aune, Environment, 163; Weima, Endings, 34–39. In verbal greetings, see Lucian, Slip 1, 5–7; Dio Cassius, Hist. rom. 69.18.
197. 1 Clem. intro.; Polycarp, Phil. intro.; Mart. Pol. intro. Dan. 4:37 LXX seems a more obscure source, although “abundance of peace” would be sufficiently familiar (LXX Pss. 36:11 [ET 37:11]; 71:7 [72:7]; cf. Zech. 9:10; 1 En. 3:9). Manuscripts of Dan. 4:1 and 6:26 do pray for peace to be multiplied (with the optative, as here), but 1 Clem. intro. adds grace, as in 1 Pet. 1:2, and Polycarp, Phil. intro. and Mart. Pol. intro. add “mercy,” as in Jude 2.