Читать книгу 1 Corinthians - Luise Schottroff - Страница 43

This section begins with a concluding argument against the profiling and rivalry that Paul rejects for the congregation, since they are the power structures that characterize the world (4:6–7). In 4:8–13 he sets in opposition to these structures a different image, that of a congregation that shares a common fate with those who are the least in society and is in solidarity with them. These least ones can be seen when the festive processions enter the circus or the amphitheater. Within the processions are people about whom the spectators—and they themselves—already know that their death is planned for the hours to come, all to please the crowd.

4:6 The assertion, surfacing again and again in the history of interpretation, that there was a controversial relationship between Paul and Apollos, has no basis in the Pauline texts themselves. In view of 4:6, it is absurd. He says here that he has regarded the relationship between the two as an alternative to controversy and presented it in just that way. In this context, »Do not resist Scripture« refers primarily to Jer 9:22–23 [Eng. Bible, 9:23–24] (see 1:29–31), since from this text he repeatedly (1:29, 31; 3:21), as also in 4:7, takes up the key word kauchasthai/be arrogant/boast. Jer 9:22–23 [Eng. Bible, 9:23–24] reads: »Do not let the wise boast in their wisdom, do not let the mighty boast in their might, do not let the wealthy boast in their riches; but let those who boast boast in this: to comprehend and recognize me, that I, namely God, bring about steadfast love, justice, and righteousness in the earth, …« For Paul, this text is a kind of red thread that runs through the discussion of the competitive structures: people gain power not by using their superiority against one another but by living in a mutuality that grows out of the nearness of God (see above on 1:29–31). But Paul here is also basically going beyond the reference to Jer 9:22–23 [Eng. Bible, 9:23–24]: Scripture, interpreted and lived in that same mutuality, is the source and measure of learning.¹⁸⁴ To this, he and Apollos have held fast.

4:7 is the key to the comparison of »you« and »we« that follows, beginning with 4:8. The »you [plural]« that begins in 4:8 and the »you [singular]« in 4:7 belong together: an alleged counterpart in the congregation who would like to see himself or herself as superior to other members of the congregation and claims to have greater power than others. In Paul’s view this behavior presupposes that people forget that the good gifts they have received are an abundance supplied by God (see 1:4–5; 2:12). And they ignore reality.

And so, in 4:8 he asks skeptically: Are you satisfied? Are you rich? Those addressed know that in the eyes of those around them they are neither satisfied nor rich (see 1:26–28) and that there are many people in addition to themselves that suffer from hunger, poverty, and violence. Paul’s questions are meant make them aware that every claim to superiority (kauchasthai) is unrealistic and isolating. The »we« in 4:8–12 is the »we« of the congregation, the body of Christ (on this see the basic information above after 2:5). The »you« does not refer to opponents, but individuals or small groups in the congregation who let themselves be enticed into a behavior from which they promise themselves more security than from their proximity to one who has been crucified. Here, in a society shaped by power struggles and violence, a congregation seeks a way to an alternative. And that is not so simple, for people do not yet know a life together in solidarity, and the structures of society impede it. Paul mocks them in 8b: It would be useful if you were already holding the reins of power, for then we could rule with you. But the reality is that neither you nor we are at the helm; quite the contrary (see 1:26–28). I rather doubt that these questions should be seen as ironic or, indeed, caustically ironic.¹⁸⁵ It is more likely that they reveal, given the reality, the absurd consequences of the power struggles.

4:9 To all attempts at accommodation with the structures of violence, Paul now opposes a shocking image.¹⁸⁶ We have been sent by God as the last of all in society. We can be compared to and identified with the ones condemned to death in the processions of Rome’s violent mass gatherings. First, we turn to the details in 4:9a: The ones Paul is naming as »we« in 4:9a are the »male and female apostles.« God has put us, the male and female apostles, on exhibition (apedeixen) in the place of those who are the last of all in society. Here the concept of the apostolate is applied to all who are sent by God to proclaim the gospel. To the men and women who serve as God’s messengers, proclaiming and spreading the peace of Israel’s God for all nations in the world,¹⁸⁷ God has assigned the place of the last ones in society. That is their reality and the place assigned them by God. Being an apostle does not entail having a special role in the congregation.¹⁸⁸ All members of the body of Christ have an analogous task to fulfill for the sake of the gospel. The description of the God-given place of the male and female apostles fits all members of the congregation in Corinth (see below). It is both reality and divine determination. They stand in this place as messengers sent by God. So that there is absolute clarity about what kind of place this is, Paul says: We are »last of all,« like those »sentenced to death« in the violent games.

The rare word epithanatios¹⁸⁹ (those »sentenced to death«) refers to those who are condemned to die and whose execution is part of the public displays of violence. In these events for the masses in amphitheaters, theaters and other locations for extravaganzas, they staged a person’s public humiliation and execution as a climax of what was offered.¹⁹⁰ Paul compares himself and those like him with these people, truly the »last« in a society based on dictatorial violence. The doomed are either prisoners of war or people condemned to death because of deeds that are in Rome’s view crimes (see 15:32). In 4:9b Paul gives the reason he made this comparison: he, those like him and these »last ones« are publicly humiliated and despised. They are a »spectacle« (theatron). Then he names the horrific spectators: »the world (kosmos), angels and mortals.« He has before his eyes the sight of these spectators at the games of violence, gluttons for lust and death, and he sees more than just a group of people. He sees the entire world as gluttons for murder, and even mythological beings—angels¹⁹¹—are taking part. In 4:13b Paul returns to these spectators once more.

Violent extravaganzas before hordes of spectators had a fundamental significance for the Roman Empire. They got people used to murder and humiliation: »The empire’s rulers had learned to use for their own purposes festivals formerly initiated for religious reasons, in order to control the masses all the more securely.«¹⁹² Carcopino 1979 also rightly points to the tokenism involved in these games in the face of the actual powerlessness of the people: »In a period in which the assemblies were inactive and the senate merely parroted what they had been told, what the people were thinking could only come out in the frenzied atmosphere of the munera and the ludi.«¹⁹³ Along with the gladiators, the people were supposed to get caught up in the moment. »The people were brutalized, and their choosing sides heightened the rush that always grabs people when they go to a game. They cheered on one or the other of the gladiators.«¹⁹⁴ With this as background, it once again becomes clearer why Paul is criticizing the rivalry within the congregation and why he regards solidarity with the Crucified One, and with those who are being crucified, as irreconcilable with power struggles. In Corinth, the Roman colony, violent games were even more frequently held than in other cities and had great relevance for the life of the city.¹⁹⁵

Paul directs our attention in 4:9 (and 4:13) to the victims of the executions and to the spectators. The following text from Seneca (died 65 CE) also deals with the spectators at the violent games, even if from an elite distance. Seneca also presupposes that he can stay away from mass gatherings of this sort. Very likely few people would have envisioned for themselves such an option. The public pressure to attend and to participate was enormous.¹⁹⁶ Seneca describes a midday event at which it wasn’t gladiators but criminals condemned to death who killed one another until no one was left. This slaughter was even more popular with the spectators than the battles between gladiators, according to Seneca. He went to the midday event because he thought the slaughters only took place at the morning and afternoon programs. At midday he expected a sanguine interlude.

… the greater the mob with which we mingle, the greater the danger. But nothing is so damaging to good character as the habit of lounging at the games; for then it is that vice steals subtly upon one through the avenue of pleasure. What do you think I mean? I mean that I come home more greedy, more ambitious, more voluptuous, and even more cruel and inhuman,—because I have been among human beings. By chance I attended a mid-day exhibition, expecting some fun, wit, and relaxation, —an exhibition at which men’s eyes have respite from the slaughter of their fellow-men. But it was quite the reverse. The previous combats were the essence of compassion; but now all the trifling is put aside and it is pure murder. The men have no defensive armour. They are exposed to blows at all points, and no one ever strikes in vain. Many persons prefer this programme to the usual pairs and to the bouts »by request.« Of course they do; there is no helmet or shield to deflect the weapon. What is the need of defensive armour, or of skill? All these mean delaying death. In the morning they throw men to the lions and the bears; at noon, they throw them to the spectators. The spectators demand that the slayer shall face the man who is to slay him in his turn; and they always reserve the latest conqueror for another butchering. The outcome of every fight is death, and the means are fire and sword. This sort of thing goes on while the arena is empty. You may retort: »But he was a highway robber; he killed a man!« And what of it? Granted that, as a murderer, he deserved this punishment, what crime have you committed, poor fellow, that you should deserve to sit and see this show? In the morning they cried »Kill him! Lash him! Burn him! Why does he meet the sword in so cowardly a way? Why does he strike so feebly? Why doesn’t he die game? Whip him to meet his wounds! Let them receive blow for blow, with chests bare and exposed to the stroke!« And when the games stop for the intermission, they announce: »A little throat-cutting in the meantime, so that there may still be something going on!« … The young character, which cannot hold fast to righteousness, must be rescued from the mob; it is too easy to side with the majority. Even Socrates, Cato, and Laelius might have been shaken in their moral strength by a crowd that was unlike them …¹⁹⁷

The perspective of the victim can only be surmised. The following text by Apuleius (born 125 CE) comes from a novel. It recounts the fate of a man who through sorcery is turned into an ass. Despite its genre as a novel, the text offers valuable socio-historical information. The author provides an insight into the presentation of a violent game in Corinth. What is planned for the climax of the presentation is the public rape by an ass of a woman condemned to death, followed by her being torn to pieces by wild animals. The text provides the opportunity of pondering the perspective of the victim.¹⁹⁸ The ass narrates (Book 10, excerpts):

But first I should do what I ought to have done in the first place and tell you now who my master was and where he was from. His name was Thiasus and he came from Corinth, the capital of the province of Achaea. As one would expect of a man of his birth and rank, he had passed through the different grades of office to the quinquennial magistracy; and to honour the occasion in a suitably brilliant manner and by way of displaying his munificence to the full he had undertaken to provide a three-day gladiatorial show. So eager indeed was he for popularity that he had been as far afield as Thessaly to procure wild beasts and celebrated gladiators, and now that he had acquired and arranged all he needed he was preparing to return to Corinth.¹⁹⁹

One sees here how expensive the games were and how connected they were with political offices. Corinth was a stronghold of the games. Apuleius continues, describing how one such event in Corinth played out. Back in Corinth:

… and decided to make a public exhibition of me. Since, however, my noble ›wife‹ was ineligible because of her rank, and nobody else could be found to take her place at any price, he brought in a degraded creature whom the governor had condemned to the beasts to prostitute her virtue with me in front of the people …

Now the day of the games had arrived, and l was led to the theatre in ceremonial procession, escorted by crowds of people. While the show was being formally inaugurated by a troupe of professional dancers, I was left for a while outside the gate, where I had the pleasure of cropping the lush grass which was growing in the entrance.

At the same time, as the gates were left open, I was able to feast my eyes on the very pretty sight inside.

First I saw boys and girls in the very flower of their youth, handsome and beautifully dressed, expressive in their movements, who were grouping themselves to perform a pyrrhic dance in Greek style. In the graceful mazes of their ballet they now danced in a circle, now joined hands in a straight line, now formed a hollow square, now divided into semi-choruses. Then a trumpet-call signalled an end to their complicated manoeuvres and symmetrical interweavings, the curtain was raised and the screens folded back to reveal the stage.

Preparations are made for the show’s climax:

Now, in response to the demands of the crowd, a soldier came out and along the street to fetch the woman who, as I said, had for her series of crimes been condemned to the beasts and was to partner me in these brilliant nuptials of ours. Already what was to be our marital bed was being lovingly made up, an affair of polished Indian tortoiseshell, heaped high with cushions stuffed with down and bright with silken coverlets. Apart from the shame of having to do this act in public, and apart from the pollution of contact with this loathsome and detestable woman, I was in acute and grievous fear for my life. For I thought: there we should be, locked together in a loving embrace, and whatever animal