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Introduction
ОглавлениеOverview of Paul’s Letter to the Ephesians
Perhaps no letter in the Pauline corpus takes the reader to such mountain heights of adoration and to such level fields of practicality as the six short chapters of Ephesians do. One might call it a feast for the Christian imagination, for it lays out the gospel with great depth and intellectual texture. Paul1 reflects on the magnificence, even lavishness, of God’s redemptive work established in Christ and continued in the Spirit. Chrysostom remarks how Paul grasped the eternal plan of God, connecting Paul’s thought with Christ’s own words in Matt 25:34 to the faithful that he will welcome them into the kingdom prepared for them from the foundation of the world.2 Paul explores the intricacies of what this kingdom looks like for the church now and in the future, as he fills out the picture of the Triune God who from the beginning has orchestrated this grand movement of salvation. Jerome, likely following Origen, acknowledged the complexity of Paul’s thought in describing God’s free gift of salvation. Recall, Jerome remarks, that Ephesus in Paul’s day had at its center the great temple of Artemis/Diana and the widely practiced magical arts commanding allegiance and attention of all its dwellers and visitors. Paul’s letter taught deep theological realities about the powers and principalities against which believers do battle, for the Ephesians were in the thick of the fight.3 Martin Luther, in his theological disagreement with the Roman Catholic Church, argued that Ephesians (4:5) expressed Paul’s vision of the church as the one true body of believers united by one heart even though separated physically by thousands of miles.4 Luther’s comments reflect the general Christian debate about the nature of the church, which has continued through the centuries and relies in large part on Paul’s understanding of the church expressed in Ephesians. As these three examples show, Ephesians covers key foundational aspects of the gospel, including Christology, pneumatology, soteriology, eschatology, and ecclesiology. To these we might add the modern questions of authorship and the social roles described in chapter 5. In Ephesians we find much to reflect upon as God’s plan of redemption, and our own part in the story, is laid before us. The first chapter of Ephesians presents with rhetorical flourish and fanfare the praise rightly due to the one true God, Father, Son, and Spirit. The stage lights are first focused on God the Father, who chose to redeem the world for his good purposes, including creating a people unto himself in Christ. In chapter 2 the spotlight grows to include more fully the role of Christ Jesus in the plan of salvation, and with chapter 3 the stage is flooded with light, revealing the activities of the Holy Spirit in accomplishing the goals of salvation within the church. The final three chapters direct attention to the church, this new creation based on the work of Christ and empowered by the Spirit for God’s glory. Why start with the Trinity? Whatever Paul’s reason, it has the effect of reinforcing the amazingly simple, but profound truth that God is the center of the universe. Not my salvation, not my social justice concerns, not my doctrines on ecclesiology or eschatology; God is the center, the beginning and the end. The tremendous idea—Paul trips over his words to make sense of it—is that the majestic God has determined in our time to make known his salvation plan in Christ. Through the Spirit, he set in motion the salvation plan for a new creation and the full realization of the kingdom of God. If we start with Ephesians in our quest to understand the gospel as Paul outlines it (instead of starting with Romans, for example, although the two letters share quite a bit in common), we might register aspects of Paul’s message that have been muffled or ignored. For example, Ephesians stresses God’s grace in the forgiveness of sins for the purpose of building a new community, a holy temple dedicated to God’s glory. God acted in Christ through the Spirit to make a new creation, which includes personal forgiveness of sins so that a people (Jew and Gentile, slave and free, male and female) might be made into a new household of God for his glory.
Though difficult to reduce such a complex argument as we find in Ephesians into a single sentence, a possible statement might be that through Christ, God the Father has redeemed humanity from sin and has created a new people empowered by the Spirit. The following outline highlights Paul’s major thought units:
I. Introduction
A. 1:1–2: Paul’s Greetings
II. Redemption in Christ makes the Two One
A. 1:3–14: God’s Work of Salvation
B. 1:15–23: Christ’s Rule over All Things
C. 2:1–10: Saved by Grace Alone
D. 2:11–22: Christ Our Peace Builds His Church
III. Mystery of Salvation Seen in Paul’s Imprisonment
A. 3:1–13: God’s Salvation Plan Revealed
B. 3:14–21: Paul’s Prayer for Believers’ Wisdom and Fullness
IV. Exhortation to Walk Worthy of Our Calling
A. 4:1–16: One Spirit, One Lord, One God and Father, One Body
B. 4:17–24: Put on the New Person
C. 4:25–32: Speak Truth in Love
D. 5:1–14: Imitate God, Walk in Love
E. 5:15–21: Be Filled with the Spirit
F. 5:22—6:9: Spirit-Filled Relationships in Christ
G. 6:10–20: Put on the Armor of God
V. Closing Remarks
A. 6:21–24: Paul’s Final Words of Grace and Peace
Modern Interpretive Questions
Since the 1960s, a most heated discussion has enveloped the interpretation of Paul. Two camps emerged, known, with a singular lack of creativity, as the old perspective and the new perspective. The “old” way of reading Paul is to stress his emphasis on forgiveness of sins and justification of the individual sinner through Christ’s work on the cross and his resurrection. The new perspective challenges that Paul was quite interested in the relationship between Jews and Gentiles and how the work of Christ affects each community as well as the newly forming church. In Ephesians, we have both of these convictions represented as two sides of the same coin. The redemptive work of Christ takes material shape in creating a new people of God made up of Jews and Gentiles. The new community is not a serendipitous result of Christ’s resurrection; rather it is the tangible, everyday proof of God’s surpassing power to make all things new. The empty tomb evidences Christ’s resurrection, and his appearance to his disciples and apostles (including Paul, 1 Cor 9:1–2; 15:8) was a testimony many clung to even in the face of martyrdom. But the ramifications of the resurrection are not limited to the salvation of the human soul, or even to restoring the kingdom to Israel as the disciples wondered aloud to Jesus (Acts 1:6). God’s plans are much bigger. They include the whole creation, and the evidence of Jew and Gentile together as equal participants in community is the daily confirmation Paul points to that God is indeed at work in Christ. The Letter to the Ephesians is a six-chapter exposition on the mystery of God’s wisdom revealed in this salvation plan.
Ironically, those who reject Pauline authorship of the letter (see a full discussion below) often point to the focused attention the church receives in Ephesians for support of their contentions. But the emphasis on church is a natural and essential aspect of Christ’s work on the cross, and so the extensive discussion in Ephesians about the church should not give rise to suspicions that the letter is deutero-Pauline, that is, attributed to Paul but not written under Paul’s direct influence. Indeed the church is a necessary part of God’s redemptive plan, which is to make all creation new. The church, as the body of Christ (who is its head), is an instrument through which God works to restore his creation, until the final event when God will establish the new heavens and new earth, when Christ hands over the kingdom to the Father (1 Cor 15:28). The church as the body of Christ represents (imperfectly) Christ to the world, and as such it is not a pleasant, though secondary, consequence of God’s work of redemption. Instead the church signals, by the empowering Spirit, the gospel to the unbelieving and seeking world. Said another way, the church is best understood, not as a collection of saved individuals or a group pledging particular doctrines (Catholic, Orthodox, Protestant), but as a living organism. By walking in the good works prepared for it by God (Eph 2:10), the church led by Christ, the head, witnesses to God’s power and love. Ephesians pushes us toward a healthy vision of the church and away from a purely individualistic understanding of salvation.
Authorship of Ephesians
Pauline authorship of Ephesians is contested, with several reasons put forward to suggest Paul did not write the epistle. For some, the language, its terms and grammar, sound too different from the undisputed letters (Romans, Galatians, 1 and 2 Corinthians, Philippians, 1 Thessalonians, Philemon) to be written by the same hand. For others, the theology, especially ecclesiology and soteriology, are sufficiently distinct to warrant pause in proclaiming Pauline authorship. Again, the apparent acceptance of Greco-Roman social status quo—the hierarchy of father, wife, children, slaves—speaks against this letter being written by the same author who penned 1 Corinthians. These concerns should not be dismissed lightly; however, they are capable of interpretation in a way that holds to Pauline authorship. Moreover, postulating a deutero-Pauline status for Ephesians does not solve all problems; indeed, it can create new ones, such as demonstrating the relative acceptance of pseudonymous5 authorship and pseudepigraphic6 work in the ancient world, their acceptance within the early church, and the reason for detailed personal information in Ephesians. In the end, I suggest the balance of the evidence weighs on the side of Pauline authorship, but I invite the readers to examine the evidence below to satisfy themselves on the matter.
Ancient Letter-Writing Practices
The letter itself claims to be from Paul, who states his name and then describes himself as an apostle of Christ Jesus (1:1) and later as a prisoner of Christ Jesus (3:1, see also 4:1, 6:20). Most of the undisputed letters begin with Paul declaring himself an apostle of Christ Jesus, although the formula is not rigidly followed, for in 1 Cor 1:1 he declares he was called as an apostle, while to the Romans he announces himself a slave of Christ Jesus who was called to be an apostle. The opening description of Paul in Ephesians, then, does not present any immediate hint of irregularity concerning authorship. Nor does the statement that Paul was a prisoner suggest pseudonymity. Paul notes in 2 Cor 11:23 that he has been imprisoned numerous times. He speaks of himself as a prisoner in Phlm 1, 9, and as being in chains in Col 4:3, 18. Acts 16:23–26 indicates that Paul was put in stocks, chained in an inner part of the prison in Philippi. The evidence raises at least two questions: Would someone writing in Paul’s name have included his claims of imprisonment? And were these chains seen in a positive or negative light? Looking at the first question, did Paul’s numerous imprisonments become a leitmotif of Paul’s life such that any person writing decades after Paul would need to include reference to his chains? This answer is related to our second question, which might be answered in one of two ways, based on how we understand Paul’s chains to be understood within the early church. In the larger society, being in chains was shameful; Paul likewise recognized that his chains could be understood in this way.7 But he also celebrates them as a symbol of his apostleship and faithful witness to the gospel message’s power to upset the religious and social status quo. One might argue that it would be rather presumptuous for an author to remake Paul’s actual chains into a literary theme which served to encourage boldness and faithfulness in service to Christ. In the letters to Philemon and Colossae Paul reflects deeply on the reality of his chains; thus “for individuals to write in Paul’s name and bind themselves, figuratively, with Paul’s chains, a considerable audacity would be required.”8 Cassidy raises an important point often overlooked in authorship discussions, namely the fact that if Paul did not write the letter, then whoever did sought to speak not only with the apostle’s voice, but with the authority of one who was in chains for Christ. Those claiming deutero-Pauline status usually explain that the disciple was writing in Paul’s name to bring Paul’s ethics and theology up to date for the new generation of believers. Surely that could be done without also assuming the moral authority of one who suffered so specifically and for such duration as Paul. The moral implications of claiming the voice of one who suffered greatly should give pause to the suggestions that one of Paul’s own followers would strike such a pose.
Throughout both the disputed and undisputed Pauline letters, we have the author declaring that he is writing to his congregations, and today we imagine him sitting quietly at his desk, pen in hand etching strange Greek characters on papyrus scrolls. In the ancient world, however, most people did not write down their own letters but used the services of a scribe. In some cases it was a personal slave or employee, in others it was a hired service. In our particular situation, this means that Paul did not actually write any of his letters, if by that one means that he put pen to papyrus. Rather, Paul used the services of others, a scribe or amanuensis, to take down his letter. Thus when Paul declares to the Galatians or the Thessalonians that he is writing to them, he is describing his personal signature and closing remarks (Gal 6:11; 2 Thess 3:17). How much of the scribe’s own personal style infused the letter? This is difficult to determine, but the range of scribal activity extends from taking dictation syllable by syllable, to composing a letter based on general instructions. In almost all cases, the author would review the letter draft before a final copy was made and sent. We also do not know if Paul used the same scribe several times. One scribe identifies himself as Tertius (Rom 16:22; see also 1 Pet 5:12), but we do not know if he wrote any of Paul’s other letters. Romans was likely written from Corinth during Paul’s third missionary journey, and we would have to postulate that Tertius was with Paul in other cities or over the course of his journeys to suppose that he wrote other letters, which is not an impossible scenario, but one for which we have no information. We should not forget that for several letters Paul is imprisoned (Philippians, Colossians, Philemon), which further complicates his options. We should pause for a moment to observe that Paul coauthors most of his letters; this fact has not usually penetrated discussions about authenticity. This is a rare, almost unique innovation, for we have no evidence that Cicero, Seneca, or Pliny the Younger, for example, ever coauthored a letter. It seems that Cicero’s friend Atticus did write one letter with a group of people,9 and Richards identified six coauthored letters out of the 645 private letters from the Oxyrhynchus corpus, but these are not at all similar to Paul’s letters.10 Only Romans, Galatians, Ephesians, and the Pastoral Epistles are authored by Paul alone (with the aid of a scribe). How involved were Titus, Timothy, and Sosthenes in the content and style of Paul’s other letters? Was it merely courteous of Paul to note his coworkers, or did they have significant input with content and style? Anthony Kenny explores this question with a stylometric analysis, focused not on key terms or unusual vocabulary, but on stylistic quirks and traits that an author expresses unconsciously. For example, those from Pittsburgh drink “pop” but in Philadelphia they drink “soda”; both use these synonyms unconsciously and thus reveal their backgrounds. Kenny observed the frequency of subordinate clauses and conjunctions (and, but), and discovered both great diversity and strong commonality between all of the Pauline letters.11 Interestingly, letters closest to what is understood as the center of Paul’s thought were those he wrote alone (with a secretary), namely Romans, Philippians, and 2 Timothy. Ephesians, heavily indebted to Colossians (coauthored by Timothy) is farther down the list, but still closer to the center than 1 Corinthians, the only letter coauthored with Sosthenes. This evidence suggests that Paul’s coauthors might have played a larger role in the finished product than has been previously thought.
One final note about letters: in the ancient world, as today, they frequently substitute for the personal presence of the writer. Often Paul will declare that he longs to see his congregation, but must be satisfied with sending them a letter. The implication of this is that we expect that the author knows his audience well. For the most part this holds true for Paul’s letters, with a few important exceptions. In the case of Romans, Paul is introducing himself to the Christian community in the imperial capital in hopes of soon visiting them. Similarly, Paul (with Timothy) writes to the Colossians with authority, although it is one of his coworkers, Epaphras, who founded the church. Yet in both cases, mutual friends are listed at the end of the letters. In fact, Romans has the longest list of personal friends, which might not be surprising if Paul is trying to form a relationship with the Roman church. What would be more natural than to cite common acquaintances? Ephesians lacks both a sense of intimacy with the congregation, as well as names of specific church members, which are unexpected, given that he spent over two years there according to Acts. However, Paul’s communications to the Thessalonians has no personal references, even though Paul founded that church only a few months before writing his letters from Corinth (Acts 18:5; 1 Thess 3:6). Any explanation about Pauline authorship of Ephesians must take into account the relative lack of statements of personal knowledge about the addressees. Most explain this as indicating either that the letter was not written by Paul, or that the letter was intended as an encyclical letter to be read by various churches in the vicinity of Ephesus.
External Evidence for Authorship
The latter possibility is reinforced by a particular textual variant. In some of the most reliable manuscripts, the words “in Ephesus” are not found in 1:1 as one would expect. Several questions immediately come to mind, such as whether Paul would write a letter that would be read to various churches. In Col 4:15–16, Paul requests that his letter to them be shared with the nearby city of Laodicea, and the letter he sent to the latter city (not extant) be read by the Colossians. Again, Galatians is also written to the churches in that province. From these examples we could at least conclude that Paul is not opposed to having several churches read each other’s letters. Interestingly, an ancient writer, Marcion (declared a heretic for his views on the Jewish Bible/Old Testament and the person of Jesus) is reported by Tertullian to have identified Ephesians as Paul’s letter to the Laodiceans, but it is unclear, however, whether Tertullian is speaking of the letter itself or the superscription (title page, if you will), and whether Marcion is supplying a missing text or changing an existing text.12
Further questions include whether the manuscripts without “in Ephesus” are accurate in their rendering, or whether there is some corruption whereby the relevant locale was omitted. The oldest sources, including P46 (third century CE), Codex Sinaiticus and Codex Vaticanus (both fourth century CE), omit “in Ephesus” in the actual letter, but do include “to the Ephesians” in the superscription. These three manuscripts are of the Alexandrian text type, which suggests a local variant. The rest of the reliable manuscripts, from a variety of regions, including the early Coptic (Egyptian language) translation, incorporate the phrase “in Ephesus.” This list includes the earliest editorial changes in both Sinaiticus and Vaticanus. Thus we have excellent external evidence for both readings. Finally, Origen, who lived both in Alexandria and in Caesarea Maritima, in his commentary on Ephesians seems not to have used a manuscript that had the words “in Ephesus.” However, he makes it clear in the text that he believes Paul is writing to the Ephesians, as his opening line in the discussion of Eph 1:1 reads “In the case of Ephesians alone we find the phrase ‘to the saints who are.’”13 He has a remarkable interpretation of the awkward Greek, namely that Paul is describing the Ephesians as those who once were not, but now are, through God. He takes his cue from Moses’ encounter with God in the desert, when God reveals who he is by saying “I AM.” In both cases, the verb for “to be” is used. Although we have only fragments of Origen’s commentary on Ephesians preserved, Jerome clearly used it in composing his own commentary.14 And he probably also used Origen’s prologue as well, wherein Origen makes clear that the letter in question is addressed to the Ephesian church, suffering from an overwhelming attraction to magic and the goddess Diana (drawing on Acts 19:1–20).
If the manuscript evidence is inconclusive, the internal evidence might shift the balance. Usually textual critics prefer the more difficult reading and the shorter reading. If these rules are followed, the omission of the phrase in the original seems assured. In this case, the copyists, aware of the difficult reading, stayed true to the text in front of them, not smoothing out the reading. They would have no apparent reason for omitting the city’s name. In fact, they might have assumed Paul was following the Hellenistic custom whereby a royal decree was often lacking a specific addressee because the declaration was to be read in numerous cities.15
However, a further critical rule suggests that if a variant reading is nonsensical or uncharacteristic of the author’s work, the longer reading should be supported. In this case, the omission creates an odd reading in Greek and is uncharacteristic of Pauline letters. Normally we find Paul using “to those who are” followed by a place name in his introduction and greetings. Those manuscripts that omit the place name read awkwardly, “to the saints, to those who are, and believers in Christ Jesus.” The problematic reading might be better explained as a copyist error than coming from the original text. Some suggest, however, that the omission indicates this letter was intended as an encyclical epistle to be read in several churches. It was up to Paul’s envoy and letter carrier, Tychicus, to insert the city’s name as he read it to the several churches in small cities in the vicinity of Ephesus. Although no copy of the letter has either a space in the manuscript for a city’s name to be inserted or the preposition “in” followed by a blank space, nonetheless, if Tychicus was instructed to insert the name of the city when he read it to the churches, there would be little need to leave a space in the actual text. We might pause for a moment and note that Paul gives Tychicus the responsibility to inform the listeners of his situation (this is true as well in Colossians). It seems that Paul instructed his envoys to communicate more than what was on the page, for example when he reveals in 2 Cor 7:6–16 that he expected Titus to reassure the Corinthians of Paul’s concern for them. Again, the custom of reading the letter publicly to the church was apparently consistent throughout Pauline churches. Even a letter as personal as Philemon was read to the entire church, as indicated by the plural “you” at the beginning and end of the letter. Furthermore, the instructions that Tychicus give details of Paul’s situation (in chains) suggests that the apparent lack of personal details in Ephesians itself might be counterbalanced by Tychicus and by Paul’s personal knowledge of individual communities surrounding Ephesus. Paul’s situation in prison might have prevented him from writing individual letters, but would not prevent Tychicus from passing along specific greetings and encouragements directed orally by Paul through him. An intriguing, but limited parallel could be drawn with contemporary papyrus invitations, many of which lack the name of the addressee. These one-line invitations to a birthday party, wedding, or other festivity depended upon the messenger to include the guest’s name at the time the invitation was read to them.16 In the end, it seems the evidence is weighed slightly in favor of the letter being addressed to the church in Ephesus, but given Paul’s encouragement to the Colossians to share their letter with the Laodiceans, it is entirely possible that Tychicus, as he traveled from Ephesus to Colossae, read Paul’s letter to the Ephesians to the satellite Christian communities orbiting around the central city of Ephesus.
Support for this possibility might come from 1 Corinthians, which was penned in Ephesus (1 Cor 16:8). In 1 Cor 16:19, Paul extends greetings from the churches in the province of Asia, which may signal that he sees the Ephesian Christian community not limited to the city limits, but extending to the towns beyond. “Paul here seems to imply . . . that the Christian community of Ephesus was the central Christian community of the province. . . . This suggests that the Ephesian Christian community was a missionary centre, and maintained contact with Christians in other parts of the province.”17 This follows the Roman assumption concerning the polis or city, which understood its influence to cover extensively the surrounding territory outside its walls. For example, even before Paul’s time, most of Italy was seen as part of Rome, broadly speaking. Freeborn Italians had a form of Roman citizenship known as Latin rights citizenship. A similar attitude towards large urban centers outside of Rome continued in the imperial period.18 This allows for the possibility that someone living even twenty miles (a day’s journey) from the Ephesus city center might be considered (and consider themselves) an Ephesian. Clearly the limit did not extend to Colossae, one hundred miles from Ephesus, or Smyrna, thirty-five miles away.
Internal Evidence
Literary Character of Ephesians
The main internal concerns that surface in any conversation about Pauline authorship of Ephesians focus on the literary character, the theological emphases, and the historical setting implied in the letter. Turning to the first point, we can be more specific in highlighting the singular turns of phrase that some point to as indicative of a deutero-Pauline hand. For example, instead of the usual term “Satan” in Ephesians, Paul speaks of the “devil” (4:27, 6:11). Again, rather than his usual wording “the heavens,” he speaks of “the heavenlies.” These terms hardly indicate theological shifts, but because they are so insignificant they are thought to expose the author’s automatic reflex. Since Paul would think automatically of the evil one as “Satan,” the author of Ephesians, in using “devil,” exposes himself as other than Paul. However, if we apply this logic to his other letters, we see that it is flawed. Paul can use synonyms for an idea or action, even within the same letter. He is not limited to a single term to express his ideas.19 Again, the lengthy sentences and numerous participial phrases are pointed to as reasons to doubt that Paul composed the letter. For example, his opening thanksgiving runs from 1:3–14 (see also 1:15–23; 2:1–7; 3:2–13, 14–19; 4:1–6, 11–16; 6:14–20). But we find long sentences in other letters, especially when Paul writes doxologically (Rom 1:1–7, 8:38-9, 11:33–39; 1 Cor 1:4–8; Phil 1:3–8; and 2 Thess 1:3–10) or about doctrine (Rom 3:21–26; 1 Cor 1:26–29), or concerning ethical matters (compare Eph 6:14–20; 1 Cor 12:8–11; and Phil 1:27—2:11). In the past, statistical analysis was used to support a deutero-Pauline position. But more recently this method has been called into question, due in no small part to the lack of material by Paul himself. Even though he has written many letters in the New Testament, the actual corpus is relatively small, failing to provide a statistically significant amount of words from which to draw conclusions. Even more, when Ephesians is compared, for example, with the uncontested Galatians, the results are surprising. The letters are about the same length, and each contain about the same number of terms occurring only in that epistle (41 terms out of 2,429 in Ephesians, 35 terms [or 31 if you subtract proper names] out of 2,220 in Galatians) and similar numbers of terms unique to the epistle but found in the New Testament outside of the Pauline corpus (84 in Ephesians, 90 [(80 if you subtract proper names] in Galatians).20 Phrases we readily associate with Paul, such as “fruit of the Spirit” or “present evil age” or “the marks of Jesus,” are found only in Galatians, but these are not used to disqualify that epistle as written by Paul. Instead, it is recognized that Paul’s audience, the situation faced by Paul and the letter’s recipients, as well as Paul’s theological creativity and energy, all play a role in his choice of expression, style, and mood. Finally, some point to the expressions that serve to identify writers, much as a speaker’s tone of voice and idiomatic turn of phrase serve to identify them. In particular, it is suggested that Ephesians has an unusually high number of the prepositions kata (according to or against) and en (in). However, Galatians actually uses kata with the genitive more than any other Pauline letter. Again, Romans uses dia (because of or through) and para (beside) more frequently, while Philippians prefers meta (after or with) and peri (around or concerning). Even more, Ephesians shares with Romans, Galatians, and 1 and 2 Thessalonians the special construction ara . . . oun (therefore . . . therefore).21
Relationship to Colossians
Not only are the literary character, the words chosen (or omitted), and the grammatical forms alleged to be outside Paul’s expressive range, but the letter’s similarity to Colossians raises red flags for many who believe the latter served as a model for the former. The argument concludes that Colossians as well as other letters of Paul was used in composing Ephesians. Both include a similar overall pattern and the household codes, both stress redemption, body, mystery, and power in similar ways, and both include exact parallel descriptions of Tychicus’ instructions in delivering the letter. But these observations need not rule out Pauline authorship, for an examination of the data suggests that many of the similar terms include common prepositions, pronouns, and the words God and Christ. Again, scribes often made copies of their letters, in case the first was inadvertently destroyed or failed to make its destination. For example, Cicero remarks that his letter to Julius Caesar was ruined because the carrier managed to get it wet and the ink ran. But all was not lost, because Cicero had a copy of the letter, and so he re-sent it.22 It was common to keep copies23 and to share letters with friends, as does Cicero when he sends a copy of his letter to Pompey to Atticus.24 It was assumed that people shared their letters, such that Cicero’s friend Curius specifically asks Cicero not to show this particular letter to anyone.25 And Cicero, Atticus, and others saved copies of what they wrote to use the text in other, similar circumstances. At one point Cicero blushes at this practice, for he admits that he used the same preface in two works. He clarifies that he was not paying attention when he sent the work in question to his friend Atticus, and it was only a bit later when he was reading another work that he saw it had the same preface. He explains that he keeps a volume of his prefaces from which he chooses suitable beginnings for his projects. In this case he was writing a new preface, and requests that Atticus cut out the old preface and glue the new one in place.26
Thus if Paul wrote Ephesians and Colossians within the same basic time frame, which fits with the note that Tychicus delivered both letters, then one might comfortably assume Paul used the same scribe, and might have wished to stress similar ideas to churches in the same general region. Moreover, it seems ironic to declare that Ephesians is not by Paul because it uses language found in other Pauline material. Why assume a second author instead of asserting that the same author reused much of his material to address a similar circumstance? What is really at stake is not the vocabulary per se, but the alleged meaning of those terms. For that we turn in the next section to the theological arguments against Pauline authorship. In summary, the literary analysis does not show conclusively that Paul could not have written the epistle. Indeed, the evidence points to Pauline authorship inasmuch as it highlights the creativity of Paul to tailor his language to the audience and occasion. The number of hapax legomena or unique occurrences of terms in Ephesians are no more than we find in the undisputed letter to the Galatians, for example. Two options are left to consider: either Paul wrote the epistle which varied from his other letters by about 5 percent, or someone was able to match Paul’s writing by 95 percent. These percentages suggest that Paul wrote Ephesians, but it is not on literary analysis alone that most render their judgments concerning Paul’s authorship.
Theological Emphases in Ephesians
More troubling for many who argue a pseudepigraphic status for Ephesians are the theological and ideological statements permeating the letter that seem at odds with Pauline thought. For example, it is often said that Ephesians assumes a realized eschatology, with salvation having been accomplished fully in the past with no future implications (2:8–9). For example, Paul uses the perfect tense when speaking about believers being saved, rather than talking about the hope which looks forward. The cross is not emphasized, nor is justification; instead the exaltation of Christ and his cosmic superiority over all powers take center stage. Again, the emphasis on the church universal rather than the local body strikes many as deutero-Pauline. A closer look at the theology in Ephesians, however, suggests close connections with theology expressed in the undisputed letters. For example, although the term “cross” is found only once (2:16), this reference forms the platform upon which is built the arguments for reconciliation of humanity to God and between human groups (Jews and Gentiles). A similar case is made in 2 Cor 5:18–21 concerning reconciliation, where, interestingly, we also find Paul describing himself as God’s ambassador, a term used in Eph 6:20 (“ambassador in chains”). Justification is a central concept in Romans and Galatians, but Paul does not use it in Colossians or the Thessalonian correspondence, and in 1 Corinthians the noun occurs only once (1:30), and the verb “to justify” twice (4:4, 6:11). The absence, then, of this particular word group should not disqualify Ephesians as Pauline. Additionally, the claim that Ephesians holds a realized eschatology fails to consider adequately both the future expectations noted in the epistle, as well as the use of the past tense by Paul in other letters when dealing with salvation. In 4:30, we find reference to the coming day of redemption, a future event (see also 1:10), as well as mention of the age to come in 1:21 and 2:7. Additionally, in Romans we discover Paul explaining the hope by which a believer is saved (past tense, 8:24) as well as declaring, also in the past tense, Christian brothers and sisters predestined, called, justified, and glorified (8:30). Speaking more broadly about eschatology, some suggest that in Ephesians Christ’s imminent second coming has receded to the background, and shoved to the forefront is Paul’s concern with the here and now. To substantiate this claim, the household code (Eph 5:21—6:9) is contrasted with 1 Cor 7:7 and Paul’s encouragement later in 7:29–31 to refrain from marriage because the time is short. This contention, however, fails to appreciate fully the context of each argument. In 1 Corinthians, Paul faces a community struggling with issues of sexuality, and it seems that some married couples are refraining from sex with each other (7:1–5), although perhaps some husbands are visiting prostitutes (6:15–18). Moreover, the Corinthians downplayed the eschatological future in Christ, leaving Paul to insist upon it at every opportunity. Ephesians does not address sexual immorality or confusion within marriage; rather, it describes the institution in light of Christ and the church. And within the description is a forward looking emphasis, namely that the purpose of Christ’s death was to make the church holy and blameless (see also 2 Cor 11:2). The church is not presently holy or blameless (at least as Paul describes the behaviors of believers in his letters!), but Paul is consistent with the larger New Testament picture of the church as the bride of Christ who, in the Last Day, will be presented to Christ (Matt 22:1–10; 25:1–13; Rev 19:7–10; 21:9). A final point concerning eschatology in Ephesians: Paul’s command to put on the armor of God to fight against the powers and principalities (6:10–20) would be nonsensical if he believed that Christ had already defeated such powers, as some understand 1:20–22 to say. In Ephesians, as in the rest of the Pauline corpus, believers live in the tension between the now and the not yet; now is the time of salvation, but as of yet, not all that Christ has accomplished on the cross has been realized.
Finally, much has been made of the universal church described by Ephesians. Because Paul deals only with the local community in his other letters, so the argument contends, Ephesians must be deutero-Pauline. While it is true that Paul does not refer to the local church in Ephesians, it must also be stated that he does refer to the universal church in the uncontested letters. In 1 Corinthians, he addresses the letter not only to the local congregation but to all those everywhere who likewise call upon the name of the Lord Jesus (1 Cor 1:2). Moreover, he speaks to the Corinthians of baptism into one Spirit (1 Cor 12:7–14, see also Gal 3:27–9). The body of Christ is described as having various parts or dedicated ministries, such as apostles, prophets, teachers, and so on (12:27–31), with no hint that this configuration is based on the local church (a similar listing is found in Eph 4:11–13). In both Romans and Galatians, Paul speaks of believers as children of Abraham (Gal 3:29; Rom 4:16), clearly imagining a wide-reaching community. Lastly, as Paul describes his persecution of believers, he speaks of attacking the church of God, implying not isolated congregations but a larger group of communities (Gal 1:13; 1 Cor 15:9; Phil 3:6). Paul refers to the church as the “Israel of God” in Gal 6:16. Just as an individual synagogue would hardly imagine itself as other than part of the larger Jewish community, it appears that Paul too sees each congregation as connected to a larger entity, what he can refer to as the body of Christ (Eph 5:29; 1 Cor 12:13).
A final sticking point is Paul’s declaration that the church is built on the apostles and prophets (Eph 2:20). This is said to conflict with his claim that the church’s foundation is Christ (1 Cor 3:11, see also Col 2:7). But is there a sharp difference? Paul understands his apostolic ministry as speaking only of God’s work in and through Christ, that is, the gospel and its ramifications. He is not at liberty to expand or eliminate any part of the tradition handed down to him. However, Paul should be given the flexibility to develop imagery that best describes the concepts, for his metaphors gain much of their power because they are dynamic. In Eph 2:20, Paul describes Christ Jesus as the chief cornerstone that secures the foundation of the building (the church), a sentiment not at all foreign to his point made to the Corinthians. In both cases, it is Christ who establishes the shape of the building and gives it security and strength.
Historical Context of Ephesians
A third area of concern for those who postulate Ephesians as pseudo-apostolic is the historical context of the letter, or more accurately, the apparent lack of historical context. In other letters, Paul is responding to intruders in the congregation (Galatians, 2 Corinthians), a letter sent by the community (1 Corinthians), a false teaching (Colossians), or even a gift sent by the community (Philippians). With Ephesians, nothing of the sort immediately presents itself. Additionally, alleged glimpses of the church suggest to some a congregation of a generation or more after Paul. Specifically, the church is described as fully integrated, with Jew and Gentile now one in the peace of Christ (2:14–18). Such a scene is markedly different from the tensions between Jew and Gentile that seem to permeate the Galatian churches or the Roman community. While these points have some merit, not all churches struggled with such tensions; for example, 1 and 2 Thessalonians as well as 1 and 2 Corinthians rarely mention the law or Jews or Judaism. It may be because the communities were mainly Gentile, but if Acts can be used to shed light here, we might suggest that some allied with the synagogue (Jews and God-fearers) began to associate with followers of Christ. Moreover, history does not support the assumption that a generation or two after Paul the church had sorted out the Jew/Gentile situation. Thus pushing the epistle into the second century does not help the problem. A close reading of Eph 2:11–21 suggests Paul is not describing the current state on the ground, as it were, in his congregation. Instead, he is declaring what the cross and resurrection have done to bring Gentiles, those formerly alienated from the true God, into fellowship with God’s people (2:19). Indeed, it is precisely this truth that presents the historical setting for the epistle, namely the urgency for living out this unity within the congregations. And, we might add, interpreters have struggled to discern Paul’s overarching reason for writing Romans (beyond his personal introduction and request for aid in his planned visit to Spain), but have accepted the letter as genuinely Pauline. Furthermore, the description of Paul in 3:1–11 raises problems for some. They note that the description of Paul as less than the least of the saints (3:8) is too harsh. Yet Paul describes himself elsewhere as one who was like an aborted fetus (1 Cor 15:8)—hardly a flattering picture. Others suggest that Paul would not identify apostles as holy (Eph 3:5), as this was a later, post-apostolic appellation. But Paul is quite complimentary when speaking of apostles as gifted by God (1 Cor 12:28). Could the same writer be both highly critical of Paul, and warmly sympathetic to the apostles (which included Paul, Eph 1:1)? Another problematic aspect of 3:1–11 is the apparent assumption by the author that the audience has not seen Paul, but has heard of him (see 3:1, which notes that they heard of Paul, implying that they did not know him directly). Presumably if Paul spent over two years in Ephesus (Acts 19:10), then many in that city would have known Paul personally. If this is an encyclical letter, however, then Paul could not assume that he has met with each of the churches who will hear this letter read in their congregations. A second possibility is to understand Paul’s remarks as referring narrowly to his current imprisonment. If he is writing from Rome, the majority in Ephesus would be aware of his circumstances but not know them from personal encounter. Paul’s point, then, in these verses would be to set his current situation in context: he is a prisoner for the sake of Gentiles (3:1) and rather than that news dismay or shame them, his sufferings are a source of glory for them (3:13). In sum, the biographical details of chapter 3 need not indicate an author other than Paul himself.
In conclusion, the results of the internal evidence point to including Ephesians as one of Paul’s genuine letters, with the admitted distinctive language and content varying within an acceptable range from the undisputed letters. We proceed under the assumption that this letter was commissioned directly by Paul and was executed under his guidance and authority.
Pseudonymity in the Greco-Roman World
and the Early Church
Historical Survey of Pseudonymity
Having examined much of the evidence put forward in support of understanding Ephesians as deutero-Pauline, a brief exploration of the notion of pseudonymity (borrowing a well-known author’s name for one’s own work) in the ancient world merits our attention. Until about 300 years ago, most readers of the Pauline corpus assumed all letters attributed to Paul were penned by him or his scribe. But with the rise of the modern criticism of the Bible, and a renewed interest in ancient literary practices, various scholars today assert that pseudonymity was an accepted and common literary convention in the ancient world. Some even assert that only four of Paul’s epistles can be certified as genuine: Romans, 1 and 2 Corinthians, and Galatians. To evaluate these conclusions, several points should be taken up, including the nature of the claims about ancient pseudepigraphic letters, expectations of intellectual property, and the way the early church addressed pseudepigraphy and pseudonymity. We should note at the start that pseudepigraphic letters were popular in the Greco-Roman world, and Jews of this time also produced and read pseudepigraphic works. Both of these claims, however, require careful nuance if they are to inform the discussion over the authorship of Ephesians. When we think about the range of letters today, we imagine official letters sent between diplomats wherein every word is carefully parsed, as well as grade school children writing home from summer camp to parents or grandparents eager for some news (and perhaps in this latter case the contents would be likewise carefully edited!). In the ancient world, letters likewise served to unite friends, accomplish tasks, keep in touch with family, or simply entertain. In the latter category we find collections of letters presented as written by the ancient philosophers such as Plato (philosopher of the fourth century BCE who studied under Socrates) or Diogenes (Cynic philosopher of fourth-century BCE Athens). While no one doubts that the capabilities of those two men certainly extended to writing letters, the collections of their letters, produced in the Hellenistic period, were understood for the most part to be pseudepigraphic, that is, written by someone other than the claimed author. These collections served to entertain and edify, they offered another window into the imagined life of the great men (and a few women in their circles). Today they also are cited by some as an analogue to the deutero-Pauline material, so it is important that we explore the world of pseudonymity on the ancient landscape.
The definition of pseudonymity in modern scholarship varies widely, at times being conflated with the category of “anonymous.” A genuine letter is one written (directly or indirectly through a scribe) or commissioned by the author named in the text. An anonymous letter does not contain within the text an attribution to authorship; however, such a text might later have an author falsely attributed to it. For our purposes, a pseudepigraphic letter is one written by a person other than the one named in the text, and thus the text’s author could be categorized as pseudonymous. A key concern when speaking of pseudonymity is the intention of the authors; namely, are they intending to deceive their audience, or are they using an accepted literary device? Intentions are not always easy to determine, but two were commented upon in the ancient world: greed and admiration for the author. Some writers were anxious to have their own ideas propagated, and so used a well-known name to forward the writer’s cause, while others genuinely appreciated the person whose name they used, and sought to promote that person’s ideas out of love, respect, and personal humility. Forgery is another category; here the author intentionally deceives his audience for some perceived gain, which might be wealth, or the downfall of his opponent. In the case of pseudonymous authorship, the audience is not deceived; rather it recognizes without censure the false authorship attribution.
A quick summary of the pseudepigraphic epistolary collections in the Greco-Roman world reveals that they were the product of several authors, or at least an accumulation of material surrounding an authentic core. These collections developed in the first and second centuries CE, perhaps because of the general, widespread interest in classical Greek thought and literary expression. The figures chosen had well-known reputations, and the letter collections might be read alongside their corpus of work. In almost all cases the letters were written to a single individual, another well-known person of the past. Moreover, composing letters in the name of famous philosophers, tyrants, and kings was standard rhetoric training for students. “The goal of the pseudonymous epistolographer was thus to work the bare bones of a biography into a compelling life story. He was both scholar and creative artist, researching historical materials in order to define the bounds of the tradition, and using his imagination to elaborate creatively and dramatically on that tradition.”27 It must be noted that these letters were not read singly, but within the corpus, and the evidence suggests a school setting for their production. For these reasons, a few argued that the disputed Pauline letters were produced by a Pauline school, although this view has never gained much traction due to the paucity of evidence for such an academy.
Additionally, many of these collections focus on ethics and imitating the famous figure. To facilitate these goals, often the letters include personal data or alleged historical details that might motivate the reader to copy the philosopher’s behavior. Since the reader knew the important figure of the distant past was not in fact the author, presenting the personal details as though the philosopher himself wrote it was not deceptive, but rather a literary convention that served to promote the well-known ideals of the philosophy. Because genuine letters can exhibit similar characteristics, such as encouraging imitation and stressing ethics, recognizing pseudepigraphic epistles is not, therefore, always simple and straightforward.
Pausing for a moment, it seems useful to ask whether the characteristics noted above are helpful in deciding whether there are pseudepigraphic letters in the New Testament. A review of the various Greco-Roman corpuses reveals few similarities with the Pauline corpus. Many in the former category do not have the sender’s name in each letter; rather, the real reader knows who the sender is because the letter is embedded in the larger corpus of epistles attributed to that figure. Second, often the material is of a very general nature, amounting to a philosophical reflection. Third, the letters are usually much shorter than the ones in the New Testament, though a few are the length of Paul’s shorter letters. Finally, the attributed author is a figure from the distant, classical Greek period. An exception is the second-century CE collection of Apollonius of Tyana’s letters, which, as single-line statements or quips, are hardly comparable to the epistles of the New Testament.
Authority and Ownership of Literary “Property”
Digging deeper into the issue of ancient pseudepigraphy requires an examination into the sense of intellectual property held at the time, and the role of the apostle and apostolic authority within the early church. While no copyright law existed in the ancient world (that would not happen until the advent of the printing press), there were guidelines and standards of behavior. Readers held a much more laissez-faire attitude towards fictitious letters by Plato, and reacted strongly against letters reportedly by Cicero but written by another. The rule of thumb was that if the alleged author is long deceased, and his ideas and thoughts had been widely disseminated and absorbed, then producing letters to help an audience understand the great man’s personal life and ideas was considered acceptable. As noted above, letter collections of Plato, Diogenes and other Cynic philosophers, or Pythagoras (sixth-century BCE philosopher and mathematician) and the Neo-Pythagoreans, were usually produced by a school, or at least several hands are evident in the final redaction. Indeed, ancient commentators pointed out that Pythagoras was known to have written little himself, but much of his surviving work is the result of his disciples’ careful note taking. For example, Porphyry (second-century CE Neoplatonist) notes that of the 280 works with Pythagoras’ name attached, only 80 are from the philosopher directly; the others were written by his disciples. This fact was not troubling because, as Iamblichus (Neoplatonist, ca. 250–325 CE) observes, it was their custom to sign everything in their master’s name. Olympiodorus (sixth-century CE Neoplatonist) notes that Pythagoras did not leave any personal writings behind because he believed his “spiritual” writings, his disciples, were a better source for hearing his philosophy. These students out of goodwill for their esteemed teacher wrote down his teachings from their notes. Pythagoras is thus somewhat distinctive in that he chose not to write but instructed his students to do so. We have no record of Paul making a similar request, and of course, Paul also wrote some letters. But if someone wrote in Cicero’s name, or Seneca’s, they faced condemnation, because the purpose of writing such a letter was either the real author’s personal gain or the disgrace of the important figure. The physician Galen (second century CE) laments that his works were redacted in inappropriate and lazy ways that violated his literary property. He wrote On His Own Books in an attempt to stem the tide of these inferior works, wherein he recounts an incident that highlights his frustration over forgeries and unscrupulous editors. He explains that a group had gathered in a bookshop and was discussing the authenticity of one of his books. A fellow steps forward, reads the first couple of lines, and tosses it aside as fake, because it was evident that it was not Galen’s style.28 Likewise Quintilian says he published only one of his court orations; however, to his great dismay, the court stenographers, having recorded what was said, later took his ideas and expressed them in their own words.29 Quintilian felt he should have the rights to publish his spoken word, that his orations were not part of public domain.
What troubled these authors and others was not simply that someone might gain financially from this deception, but that the entire corpus of their work, their ideas and reputation, could be smeared or lowered with the addition of works claiming to be their own. Herodotus explains that Onomacritus was exiled from Athens for adding to the oracles of Musaeus.30 Diogenes Laertius notes that the Stoic Diotimus wrote fifty obscene letters in his opponent Epicurus’ name, attempting to ruin his reputation.31 But notice also in Galen’s story above that at least some ancient readers asked questions of authorship by examining the style of a work compared to known authentic texts. Suetonius echoes the same sentiment in his critique of some works in the Homer corpus that he identifies as not genuine because they are both common and obscure, that is, their style and grammar did not match that of the genuine works of Homer. “What emerges clearly is the widespread use of pseudonymity in Greco-Roman antiquity, a literary practice well-regarded by some but held in contempt by others.”32
Plato’s Noble Falsehood
Alongside the question of intellectual property is Plato’s concept of a noble falsehood. The idea taught that if a fabrication would help a person, then it was acceptable for someone to tell a lie. The example often given by the ancient authors themselves was of a physician who, in order to help the patient, would lie about a remedy so that the patient would follow orders and thus be healed. Some argue that the early church would have accepted a pseudepigraphic letter if its content was in line with apostolic thought, because the message mattered more than the medium. While it is true that a few church fathers speak favorably of the noble falsehood, the contexts differ so greatly from the issues of apostolic writings so as to limit their usefulness in the argument. For example, Chrysostom approves of the noble falsehood, but the context is his “lie” to his friend concerning their joining the priesthood.33 He explains why he was not straightforward about his own actions in the matter, but notes that he obfuscated his position for his friend’s greater good. Again, Origen admits that the noble falsehood is a logically conceivable way of understanding how Jesus might have taught.34 But he then goes on to reject that possibility as it pertains to Christ. Finally, Clement of Alexandria uses the concept, even citing the example similar to the one noted above of a physician’s practice.35 He suggests that such was also used by Paul in circumcising Timothy, but in the end he says that he cannot accept the label of deceit; Paul was accommodating to the Jewish sensibilities, not being deceitful. Interestingly, Chrysostom, in his long explanation to his friend about his apparent duplicity, also notes Paul’s circumcision of Timothy, and likewise rejects a label of deception. In any case, while these few church fathers do acknowledge the noble falsehood as a possible reality in their daily lives, they do not accept it as the modus operandi for apostles and Jesus Christ. It seems, then, that the early believers would not have countenanced a pseudepigraphic letter on the grounds it that was a noble falsehood.
Evidence from the Early Church
The early church resisted accepting as authoritative anything beyond the apostolic period, such as the Acts of Paul.36 For example, in the fifth century, the presbyter Salvian wrote Timothei ad Ecclesiam (libri IV). The local bishop guessed that his presbyter was responsible, and protested the writing. Salvian responded that he knew who wrote it (he denied responsibility), and that he felt it necessary to attach an authoritative name to the work, for otherwise no one would read it. Moreover, Salvian asserted the author was being humble by not attaching his name. And anyway, the name Timothy was chosen as a play on words, for it means “honor of God.” Salvian wanted it both ways, to say that people read it because of the reputed author, and that the name means nothing. At bottom, Salvian (the likely author) used the name Timothy to deceive the readers, and his bishop denounced it. The problem is addressed from a different angle in Eusebius’ discussion of Dionysius, bishop of Corinth (ca. 170 CE), who commented that his epistles had been defaced. “As the brethren desired me to write epistles, I wrote. And these epistles the apostles of the devil have filled with tares, cutting out some things and adding others. For them a woe is reserved. It is, therefore, not to be wondered at if some have attempted to adulterate the Lord’s writings also, since they have formed designs even against writings which are of less account.”37
One might argue that such late evidence does not help us with Ephesians, which is an early work. In an interesting twist, some scholars have suggested that the earliest church followed the Jewish practice of accepting pseudepigraphic works, and that second-century Gentile Christians condemned the practice.38 Some of the Jewish pseudepigraphic texts cited to defend the theory, however, are from the apocalyptic genre, which might as part of its literary technique attribute the text to a worthy ancient such as Enoch or Ezra. The Christian biblical texts were written in the apostolic age and use apostles’ names, not names of the distant past. Additionally, 1 Baruch and its final chapter, the Epistle of Jeremiah, while part of the LXX and the Vulgate, were not included in the Jewish canon. It is difficult, then, to state definitively from this example that Jews accepted pseudepigraphy. The Epistle of Jeremiah does not begin with the sender’s salutation, but the narrator indicates that this was a letter the prophet sent to the exiles in Babylon. The lack of salutation limits its usefulness as a direct comparison to Ephesians. Generally speaking, the pseudepigraphic works use the names of ancient patriarchs or heroes of the faith, which increases the possibility that the Jewish authors mirrored the Gentile writers. Both looked back with admiration at their historical past, and wished to have those great figures speak anew in their day. We might bring the book of Hebrews into the discussion here. This work was ultimately put into the Christian canon by connecting it with the Apostle Paul, though the letter itself is anonymous. Origen’s discussion of Hebrews is instructive. He recognizes that the style of speech is much better than Paul’s rough wording. But he also observes that the content is Pauline, and suggests that someone who was very familiar with Paul’s ideas, who perhaps even took notes from the master, wrote the piece. Origen acknowledges that those who claim it comes from Paul are right to say so. But as for him, he declines to make any specific judgment, instead admitting that only God knows who wrote it. That does not stop him quoting Hebrews as though it were Paul’s work.39 From this evidence two points should be emphasized. First, Origen was well aware of the Greek style and grammar of the Pauline corpus, and was comfortable discussing questions of authenticity based on that data. Second, Origen does not say anything similar about the disputed Pauline epistles as he does about Hebrews. That is, he does not offer that the style, grammar, or theology of any of the Pauline letters might have been that of a disciple of Paul who used Paul’s name to extend Paul’s thought for a new day or situation.
A related issue is that of apostolic authority. Paul insists that his apostolic authority is of a special type: it is directly from God (Gal 1:1). We have no evidence that Paul seconded that authority to his coworkers; indeed, that would not be possible, for only God could appoint apostles (1 Cor 12:4, 28). And the early church also regarded the era of the apostles, and the apostles themselves, as divinely commissioned to communicate the word of God. Yet Hebrews shows that authoritative material need not have within its text the name of an apostle (the canonical Gospels are another example; the author’s name is found in the title page). What does seem off limits is assuming apostolic authority without having been given that responsibility by God.40
Conclusion
In closing, I justify the time spent reviewing the evidence concerning pseudonymity in the Greco-Roman world and early church because the issue is often treated as a fait accompli: the Ephesians letter is pseudepigraphic, but not deceptive both because the early church accepted the wider conventions of pseudonymity, and because the ancients had little sense of intellectual property. This survey has cautioned against accepting these claims. Instead, the evidence suggests the church did not accept (knowingly) pseudepigraphic letters or works. If Ephesians is determined to be pseudepigraphic, then the use of Paul’s name and personal data were included in an effort to pass off the letter as genuine. In that case, it was an attempt, in the end successful, to deceive the audience.41 This conclusion must then be processed with issues of canon (a difficult subject in its own right) and of apostolic authority.
Paul’s Imprisonment
Proceeding under the conviction that Paul wrote Ephesians, we turn our attention to the significance of Paul’s imprisonment as the backdrop to this letter. Two locations are generally given as the setting for the writing: Ephesus and Rome (with a small minority suggesting Caesarea Maritima). Acts notes Paul’s imprisonment in Rome (and Caesarea Maritima) and Paul makes a comment about facing beasts in Ephesus, which some suggest is an oblique reference to an imprisonment there (1 Cor 15:32). The resolution of this problem is controlled in part by conclusions reached concerning Pauline authorship of Philemon and Colossians, and to a lesser extent, Philippians. Put simply, the problem involves four epistles (known as the prison epistles), three interconnected lists of names, two very similar epistles (Ephesians and Colossians), and one author, Paul. It seems that Paul was in the same location when he composed Philemon and Colossians, because Timothy coauthored the letters and so many of the same people are referenced in both letters, including the slave Onesimus. Additionally, it seems that Paul was in the same location when he wrote Ephesians and Colossians, because both were to be delivered by the same person, Tychicus. That suggests a scenario that allows for a single imprisonment for at least three of the four prison epistles.42
Onesimus’ Status
A key element in the debate is the role played by Onesimus, Philemon’s slave. The general consensus has been that Onesimus was a runaway slave who happened upon Paul while both were imprisoned, and there he came to faith in Christ through Paul’s ministry. Following this fortuitous outcome, Paul seeks Onesimus’ release from Philemon, his owner and Paul’s friend. Decisions about where Paul is imprisoned when he writes to Philemon are thus predicated on where one imagines a runaway slave might flee, or more specifically, how far might he travel from Colossae. The events are reconstructed as follows: Onesimus is imprisoned with Paul and becomes a follower of Christ. Paul is duty bound to send Onesimus back to Philemon, but he urgently desires that Philemon free his slave. He urges Philemon to settle the outstanding debts owed by Onesimus to Paul’s account. The letter is a success; Philemon frees Onesimus, who returns to Paul who is still imprisoned. After some unspecified time elapses, Tychicus and Onesimus return to Colossae with their letter (and presumably the one to the Laodiceans).
The above scenario depends upon Onesimus being a runaway slave, but such a conclusion has rightly come under heavy scrutiny in recent years. First, it assumes that runaway slaves were imprisoned, but why did the person who captured Onesimus not return him to his owner, especially as often rewards were given for returned slaves? Second, it is alleged that Onesimus stole from Philemon, but Paul does not include any mention of Onesimus’ repentance for running away or stealing goods. In fact, Paul does not even mention that he had found Philemon’s runaway slave! This suggests that Philemon knew Onesimus’ location and was aware of his reason for being there.
Another theory suggests that Onesimus was not so much running away as seeking out Paul to mediate a disagreement between himself and Philemon. The argument draws on the figure of the amicus domini, or friend of the master. An ancient example from the early second century CE often cited is Pliny the Younger’s letter to his friend Sabinianus.43 In this exchange, Pliny speaks of Sabinianus’ freedman (a former slave) who begs Sabinianus’ mercy and forgiveness by beseeching Pliny to speak on his behalf. Pliny agrees, and writes to assure his friend Sabinianus that the freedman is reformed, repentant of his past deeds, and ready to make a clean start. None of these details are present, however, in Paul’s letter to Philemon. Moreover, no mention is made of Onesimus repenting and seeking mercy, or of Philemon being angry at his slave’s behavior (Pliny notes Sabinianus’ outrage at his freedman’s behavior). Importantly, Pliny is speaking about a freed slave, not one currently enslaved.
A second, and stronger, argument concerning Onesimus is that he was sent to Paul by Philemon to help the former survive in prison. Onesimus was functioning in a similar way to Epaphroditus, who was the emissary for the Philippian church, bringing aid and cheer to the confined apostle (Phil 2:25). Onesimus apparently became quite valuable to Paul’s ongoing ministry, thus prompting Paul to ask that Philemon consider releasing Onesimus to full-time service with Paul. This reconstruction makes better sense of Paul’s letter to Philemon, and is more historically sensitive to the situation of ancient slavery and the realities of imprisonment. A close examination of the letter reveals language commonly used in speaking about letter carriers and private messengers. Specifically, Paul implies that he would rather not send back Onesimus at that particular moment (12–14), suggesting that Onesimus was permitted by Philemon to stay only a specified amount of time.44 Moreover, Paul uses the verb anapempō (to send back) in v. 12, which is often used in correspondence to signify the return of the messenger.45
In the end, it does seem to defy the odds that Onesimus, a runaway slave, would be imprisoned with Paul, especially in a city as large as Ephesus or Rome. Paul, as a Roman citizen, would not suffer the same fate as a slave, even in prison. Acts 16:22–24 records Paul’s chains and imprisonment in the deepest recesses of the Philippian jail, and notes that this treatment was unacceptable for a Roman citizen who had not yet been condemned. The situation was resolved with an apology by the city council (16:37–39). Again, why would Paul believe he had authority to decide whether to return Onesimus to his owner? Surely once his status was known, would not Onesimus be returned irrespective of Paul’s own thoughts on the subject? Paul was chained to Roman guards; it seems unlikely that they would have turned a blind eye to a runaway slave helping their captive.
It must be noted as well that in the Roman period, a freed slave was still beholden to his owner, under the latter’s power, much as a father retained authority over his grown children. It would not be enough, then, for Onesimus to be granted freedom, Philemon must also release him to serve Paul and the ministry. Paul’s letter requesting as much fits this reconstruction of events. Finally, if one assumed that Onesimus was fleeing his owner, either as a runaway or as one seeking a mediator, then a more cynical (but possible) reading of his situation was that he agreed to the gospel message only to enhance his standing with Paul. One might argue that Philemon (and Paul) would suspect the genuineness of Onesimus’s conversion, inasmuch as his profession of faith was a key argument for his release and forgiveness of all past deeds and debts. But if Philemon sent Onesimus to Paul, the genuineness of the latter’s conversion is on more solid ground.
Ephesus Imprisonment
Looking closely at the arguments for Paul’s imprisonment in Ephesus, one assertion put forward depends on Onesimus’s runaway status. The claim is that he would not have had the funds to flee to Rome. This theory usually alleges that he stole from Philemon, which invites the question of why Onesimus did not steal enough to get himself as far from Colossae as possible. Where better to lose oneself than in Rome, a city of a million people, as some estimates put Rome’s population in the first century CE? A second argument in favor of an Ephesus imprisonment focuses on accommodating the several visits between Colossae and Paul indicated by the correspondence. The timeline runs as follows: Onesimus meets Paul, Paul sends a letter with Onesimus back to Philemon, the latter frees Onesimus to serve with Paul (who is in prison), and Tychicus is sent with Onesimus back to Colossae. Travel between Ephesus and Colossae is about five days; between Colossae and Rome about two months. Thus it would be quite simple for Philemon to send Onesimus to care for Paul in Ephesus, and for the former to make several trips back to Colossae.
A serious challenge to the Ephesus theory is the lack of evidence for an Ephesus imprisonment. Acts is silent on this, which in and of itself does not disqualify the argument. But the positive evidence is likewise slim. Paul speaks of enduring many imprisonments (2 Cor 11:23), and specifically of facing “wild beasts in Ephesus” (1 Cor 15:32). This latter phrase is taken as implying some sort of literal incarceration in the city. Several points, however, caution against drawing this conclusion. First, if Paul was given over literally to the beasts, he would have been stripped of his citizenship. However, from Acts it appears that Paul retained his citizenship throughout his ministry. Moreover, the content in 1 Cor 15 has many connections with the philosophical jargon of the day. Often philosophers would speak of battling their passions and hedonistic rivals with language similar to Paul. Paul quotes from the philosopher Menander, “Bad company corrupts good character” (15:32), which suggests he is placing his argument in the context of a philosopher’s admonitions. Moreover, Paul uses the diatribe method, firing off rhetorical questions to jar the Corinthians back to their senses and act rightly.46 This form of argumentation was common among philosophers.
Finally, we must raise the obvious question: Why would Paul send a letter to the Ephesians, or even to satellite churches surrounding Ephesus, if he was imprisoned in their midst? Or from another angle, if he was unable to speak with the Ephesian Christians, one would presume that he would lack the liberty to write to them. Either way, if Paul was in an Ephesus jail, it seems highly unlikely that he would choose to write to the church in that very same city. Indeed those who postulate an Ephesus locale for Colossians and Philemon generally suggest a Rome venue for Ephesians, precisely because it is so difficult to explain why Paul would write when he could presumably speak directly with the Ephesian church. The similar statements in Ephesians and Colossians about Tychicus delivering the letters are usually explained as the author of Ephesians copying from Paul’s letter to the Colossians.
Rome Imprisonment
That leaves Rome as the most likely spot for Paul’s imprisonment in composing the four prison epistles. The major roadblock raised against this theory is the length of time it would take to make a journey from Rome to Philippi, Ephesus, or Colossae. At this point we should note that Philippi and Ephesus were major cities in themselves; Ephesus was the largest and most important city in Asia Minor, and Philippi was a Roman colony. Thus travel between these cities and Rome by all manner of traders, government officials, and military personnel would have been frequent. Assuming the typical distance of 15–20 miles per day on foot, it would take the average traveler from Rome to Philippi about two or three weeks to traverse the 360 miles to the eastern Italian port city of Brundisium, then two days to sail to Greece (perhaps the port cities of Dyrrachium or Aulona), with the final 370 miles of the journey along the Via Egnatia (the superhighway of the day) to Philippi taking about another two weeks. The 800 miles could be covered in about a month and a half. Alternatively, Paul’s envoy traveling to Ephesus might take a boat from Italy to Corinth, then on to Ephesus. This route would take one to two weeks from Rome to Corinth, and then another week to Ephesus, but so much depended upon the winds.47 The time involved, then, in traveling to Rome from either Ephesus or Philippi was not appreciably more than traveling on foot between the two latter cities. Hence a Roman imprisonment seems the most likely provenance for the letter to the Ephesians.
Date of Ephesians
Assuming Paul wrote from Rome, we can then date the letter to the early 60s CE. The first letter he wrote would be to Philemon. This might have been written within a few months of his arrival at Rome. After Onesimus returned to Rome (which might take as little as two and a half months), Paul set about writing to the Colossians and the Ephesians. We might suggest that Paul wrote these in late 60 or early 61. This date takes into account the earthquake that hit nearby Laodicea. Tacitus explains that, though it was devastated, Laodicea rebuilt quickly and without Rome’s financial assistance. Because no mention of such a natural disaster is noted by Paul, many argue Colossians could not have been written after the tragedy. Alternatively, since we do not have Paul’s letter to the Laodiceans, we have no way of knowing whether Paul was writing to encourage the church as they faced the catastrophe. However, Paul made no mention of the expulsion of Jews from Rome under Claudius in his later letter to the Romans, so we need not assume that major social or natural upheavals would be so noted in Paul’s letters. Arguably he might have considered such a note redundant or obvious. Thus, while a date in early 61 would work, it is unclear whether we should accommodate the date of the earthquake when determining the writing of Colossians and Ephesians. And while these movements are taking place, Paul is also communicating with the Philippian church, with Epaphroditus serving as their envoy conveying aid and service to Paul.
Audience of Ephesians
A major hurdle in describing the community (or communities) receiving this letter is that the church described is universal. Moreover, if we take Ephesians as an encyclical letter, we are left to surmise which satellite towns received the letter. While I argue that Ephesus is the most likely target for the letter, the possibility of several outlying churches receiving it is quite strong. In either case, the fact that Paul speaks of the church not as a local body but in its universal dimensions means that we must look to topics in the letter which pertain to the general social world in reconstructing the recipients. Such an approach is similar to 1 Peter, James, or Hebrews, letters whose addressees are unspecified in terms of a city. Judging by the content of the letter itself, several tentative conclusions can be drawn about the audience receiving this letter. Unlike his tension-filled letter to the Galatians, in this epistle Paul is comfortable with the congregation. They are on good terms, and Paul feels his time among them has been effective (1 Cor 16:9). But that does not mean that Paul’s time in Ephesus was one long holiday. Paul informs the Corinthians of serious struggles and suffering he endured in Ephesus, and Acts describes the riot that flared up surrounding Paul’s teaching and healing. It seems probable that the Ephesian Christians faced similar hostility, though not of the same magnitude. Both the Philippian and the Thessalonian churches faced serious persecutions, and Acts indicates that Paul was persecuted harshly in both cities. The same pattern likely existed in Ephesus.
First Corinthians gives us a window into at least a few members of the Ephesian church. Paul wrote 1 Corinthians from Ephesus (1 Cor 16:8) and his coauthor was Sosthenes (1 Cor 1:1). Was this the same person who in Acts was a leader in the synagogue in Corinth? The fact that Paul offers no introduction beyond the label “brother” suggests that Sosthenes was well known to the Corinthians, lending weight to the conclusion that this person met Paul in Corinth, and traveled with him to Ephesus. Paul notes that some people from Chloe reported divisions within the Corinthian church. We know precious little about these people, or Chloe for that matter. The strongest suggestion is that they were outsiders to the local Christian community because they brought what Paul evaluates as unbiased information. We could reasonably surmise that Chloe’s people (and perhaps Chloe herself) were members of the Ephesian church. In the final chapter he mentions Timothy coming to the Corinthians, presumably from Ephesus. He also notes the presence of Apollos, who was not anxious to travel to Corinth in the immediate future, and we might assume that he remained in Ephesus. From 2 Cor 2:4 and 7:6–11 we learn that Titus was with Paul in Ephesus, and took his “tearful” letter to them. Finally Paul makes special mention of Aquila and Priscilla and the church meeting in their home in 1 Cor 16:19. This Jewish couple is described in Acts (18:2) as originally coming to Corinth from Rome (being expelled under Emperor Claudius). Paul shared their profession (tent making or leather working), and lived with them. After eighteen months, all three left Corinth and headed to Ephesus, where it appears the couple remained for some years.
We find them mentioned again by Paul in his letter to the Romans (16:3–4). This curiosity has prompted the theory that Rom 16 was actually sent to the Ephesians, perhaps as a letter of recommendation for Phoebe, the deacon of Cenchreae. Textual evidence is called upon to support this theory: the earliest copy of Romans (P46) includes chapter 16 after the doxology of 16:25–27, for example, suggesting the names were attached by a later copyist. If this reconstruction is accurate, then we have a decidedly clearer picture of some who populated the Ephesian church. However, serious doubts are raised, including that every ancient manuscript contains the listing. And we have every reason to suppose that Priscilla and Aquila, with Claudius’s edict rescinded, returned to Rome along with many of their Jewish compatriots. In Paul’s other letters to churches he started, he does not offer a list of people to receive his greetings (see Galatians, Philippians, 1 and 2 Thessalonians, 1 and 2 Corinthians). Would someone in Ephesus feel snubbed if Paul forgot (or declined) to mention them by name? Instead, it seems most likely that the list of names in Rom 16:1–16 was intended for Rome, an opportunity for Paul to connect with the wider community by noting that he has friends and acquaintances among them.48
The Ephesian letter recipients line up with the social patterns of the larger Greco-Roman culture. They are members of families: slaves or masters, parents, spouses. They seem to be neither wealthy nor destitute; indeed, their financial status is not addressed directly. A sizable number, perhaps the majority, are Gentile, for Paul speaks of himself and other Jews as “we” and the letter’s recipients as “you” Gentiles. This distinction remains crucial for Paul’s argument concerning the advantages wrought in Christ, namely that through his death he made the two groups one in the church. Yet it also appears that some members of his ministry team working in Ephesus were Jewish, including Aquila, Priscilla, Timothy, Apollos, and perhaps Sosthenes.
The City of Ephesus in Paul’s Day
The mixture of Jew and Gentile revealed in Paul’s letter mirrored the larger social context. Josephus informs us that a sizable Jewish population of 2000 families was resettled in this region by the Seleucids in the late third century BCE.49 Probably some moved to Ephesus and established their families and businesses. Jews in Ephesus were permitted to practice their ancestral customs, although the latter half of the first century BCE included disputes with the Gentile leadership in the city. At the end of the first century BCE, Augustus established that Jews could follow their own laws and customs, could send money and donations to Jerusalem, and were excused from appearing in court on the Sabbath. Jews with Roman citizenship were exempt from military service. In Paul’s day, Jews and Gentiles apparently interacted with equanimity. Despite the fact that a synagogue has not been excavated in Ephesus, both Josephus and the book of Acts informs us of Jews meeting together.50
The population of Ephesus likely numbered 200,000 to 250,000 in the first century CE, making it the third largest city in the Roman Empire (Rome and Alexandria took first and second place).51 The city had much to offer its inhabitants. It was located strategically at the mouth of the Cayster River on the eastern coast of the Aegean Sea, providing easy transport of goods and people into and out of western Asia Minor. In 31 BCE Ephesus was named the capital of the Roman province of Asia, and within two years it included an imperial temple dedicated to Roma and the divine Julius Caesar. Wealth poured into the city, providing the resources to build magnificent temples, monuments, fountains, theaters, baths, and houses. A visitor today can walk the lengthy paved main street lined with elaborately carved columns and arches, remains of its glory days. Terrace houses built into the hillside retain their beautiful mosaic and fresco interior decorations, attesting to the affluence of this ancient city. In the 50s and 60s CE, Ephesians might be entertained in the grand theater, which seated 25,000, or visit public baths and the gymnasium. The exalted reputation of ancient Ephesus lay primarily in its magnificent temple to Artemis. One of the seven wonders of the ancient world, it was about four times larger than the Parthenon in Athens, making it the largest Greek temple in the ancient world. Poets praised its unmatched splendor, including Antipater of Sidon who, comparing the temple to the hanging gardens of Babylon, the colossus, and the pyramids of Egypt, declared “but when I saw the house of Artemis that mounted to the clouds, those other marvels lost their brilliancy, and I said, ‘Lo, apart from Olympus, the Sun never looked on aught so grand.’”52 Sadly today, all that is left of its former majesty is a single column providing a nesting place for birds.
1. Pauline authorship of Ephesians is debated, and a detailed discussion of the matter is found later in this chapter.
2. John Chrysostom Hom. Eph. 1.
3. Jerome Comm. Eph., preface, bk. 1.
4. Martin Luther, Papacy (1520).
5. This term for our purposes does not include nom de plume such as Samuel Clemens’ pen name Mark Twain.