THE present study is a sequel to the author's Epicurus and His Philosophy and it aims at making good the thesis there enunciated that Epicureanism functioned as a bridge of transition from Greek philosophy to the Christian religion. It is hoped by this means to have opened up a new window on the New Testament, a window walled up by prejudice long centuries ago.

This prejudice had its root in exasperation over the theology of Epicurus, which repudiated belief in miracles, prophecy, divine providence, and immortality. Epicurus was consequently denounced as an atheist, which he was not.

Joined with this exasperating theology was an alluring body of ethical doctrine, neatly organized and attractively presented. Unluckily, however, part of the lure of the ethic consisted in analyzing happiness to consist of the memory of pleasures past, the enjoyment of pleasures present, and the hope of pleasures to come. This espousal of pleasure as the chief good of life gave excuse for denouncing Epicurus as a sensualist, which he was not. His pleasures were not the pleasures of the flesh.

Nevertheless the merit of this ethic was so superior and so widely acknowledged that Paul had no alternative but to adopt it and bless it with the new sanction of religion, though to admit his indebtedness to the alleged atheist and sensualist was inconceivable. Epicurus was consequently consigned to anonymity.

When once this screen of anonymity has been penetrated, we shall find that the most beloved devotional readings in the Epistles of Paul exhibit the greatest influence of the friendly Epicurus. An example is the illustrious hymn to love in First Corinthians 13. The philosophy of love or friendship had created a climate of feeling favorable to the acceptance of the religion of love. Epicurus had also established a cult of peace, whether peace of mind or peace among men, long before Paul preached "the gospel of peace" and "the God of peace."

Epicurus had set the fashion for expounding doctrine in the form of an epistle. One of these writings bore the title To the Friends in Asia and was in circulation for three centuries before Paul composed his Epistle with the inscription To the Saints Which Are in Ephesus.

Long before the congregations organized by Paul began to assemble in private houses to perpetuate the memory of Jesus the Christ, innumerable colonies of the disciples of Epicurus had been accustomed to meet in private houses to perpetuate the memory of their founder, whom they revered as the discoverer of truth and a savior. Epicurus, according to the records, had so ordered it, just as we are informed that Jesus did.

The ability to follow the trail of these hidden parallelisms and to spot the unacknowledged adaptations of Epicurean teachings in the writings of Paul is the sole advantage to be claimed by the author of this study over other scholars. The process of detection, when once the clues have been identified, will not be difficult; one discovery will ease the way to another and in the end the total number of appropriated teachings may prove to be astonishing.

Among the immediate rewards will be more precise translations and occasionally for the first time correct translations.

It was the first intention of the author to entitle this study Epicurus and the New Testament but it speedily became apparent that the Pauline writings called for treatment apart from the Gospels.

The division into chapters under the names of the Epistles has resulted in a moderate amount of repetition, for which no apology seems necessary. The objective has been discovery and instruction, not entertainment.

As a last word the author disavows all claim to have made a definitive investigation. He will be content with the hope of having made a definite breach in the ancient wall of prejudice and anonymity. To the work yet to be done in this line of research there is no near limit.

This limit is the farther removed for several reasons. The treatment accorded to Epicurus in histories of philosophy is perfunctory and marred at its best by the inveterate omissions, errors, and prejudices. As for the source materials, even good university libraries may be ill supplied with them; certain items have been long out of print; others have never been translated; many are fragmentary and yield their data only to a diligent and practiced scholar. Even a willing and competent researcher would do well after a year's study to feel capable of handling his sources with facility.

The human factor must also be reckoned with; the philosophy of Epicurus was animated by a characteristic spirit, genial and reasonable and yet resolute, and to capture this spirit will demand a change of attitude, which is not to be accomplished overnight.

In the present study all questions of scholarship concerning the authenticity of certain Epistles have been ignored as unessential to the problem of Epicurean influence. In general the endeavor has been made to hold the exposition at the level of the educated layman, for whom the source material would neither be available nor usable. Those readers who will find profit in footnotes are referred to the preceding volume, Epicurus and His Philosophy.

Thanks are due to a former pupil, Miss E. Marguerite Baker, who generously volunteered to help in the preparation of the manuscript; to a capable colleague, Dr. W. E. Staples, who gave advice on Hebrew thought and literature; and to Professor Arthur Stanley Pease of Harvard University, whose candid criticisms on matters of Epicureanism have always merited respect.

N. W. D.

143 Eleventh Street; Lincoln, Illinois; August 1954

I
 
EPICURUS
Life and Teachings

EPICURUS, although an Athenian citizen by birth, was neither born nor raised in Athens but on the island of Samos not far from Ephesus. The fact is significant: he grew up entirely free from the political obsession that plagued the Athenians of Athens. He favored a minimum of government control and a maximum of individual freedom, while Plato, an Athenian of Athens, fathered the highly regimented state with a minimum of individual freedom and a maximum of government control.

These two ideals are still competitors in our modern world. The open type of society which was sponsored by Epicurus has allied itself with Christianity. The closed type of society which was sponsored by Plato has taken its stand against religion.

The year of Epicurus' birth was 341 B.C. This date will take on significance if it be recalled that Plato was then seven years in his grave and only seven years were to elapse before Alexander should set out on his momentous career of conquest. Thus the lifetime of Epicurus fell squarely in the interval of transition between the localized and introvert culture of ancient Greece and the cosmopolitan and extrovert culture of the so-called Hellenistic age.

In respect of social class Epicurus belonged to the educated poor; his father was a schoolmaster. This too is significant; it placed a social discount upon his philosophy, because schoolmasters enjoyed little esteem in the ancient world, even among the cultured Greeks. Intellectual aristocrats, including those who aspired to be thought of this class, preferred Platonism. Cicero once wrote in a snobbish mood: "I would prefer to agree with Plato and be wrong rather than to agree with Epicurus and be right." Epicureanism was destined to flourish best among the thrifty and intelligent middle classes, the same levels of society to which Paul addressed his message.

An incident that has been recorded from the school days of Epicurus informs us of his precocity and his independent spirit. The teacher was dictating a line of poetry that ran, "Verily first of all chaos was created," whereupon the boy interrupted to ask "out of what chaos was created." The teacher lost his temper, said it was no business of his to know the answer, and told him to go to the philosophers. "Well," said Epicurus in effect, "that is what I shall do."

Additional interest attaches to the incident because in the mature philosophy of Epicurus the existence of chaos was denied. According to him the universe was eternal and had always been an orderly cosmos; all stories of divine creation were myths. In due time his disciples were to make fun of the Book of Genesis.

At the age of eighteen Epicurus was summoned to perform the required two years of military training in Athens, and the call chanced to coincide with the news of the untimely death of Alexander in 323 B.C. A rash war was immediately begun by the elated Athenians, which quickly ended in catastrophe; and so Epicurus became, as it were, an eyewitness of the last scene of the last act of the realistic drama that marked the transition from local democracy to world empire. The offending orators were executed by the Macedonians. This experience was not without its influence upon the youthful Epicurus, who subsequently condemned the political career and the whole program of education that prepared for it. His nonpolitical philosophy flourished in advance of nonpolitical Christianity.

This condemnation of the higher education placed Epicurus in the same position as St. Paul at Ephesus in later days, when he threatened the emolument of the silversmiths; vested interests were at stake. The rhetoricians, who depended upon students' fees, retorted madly by denouncing him as a dullard, an ignoramus, and an enemy of all culture.

These slanders continued to flourish throughout ancient times and are still repeated and believed by acquiescent modern scholars but refutation is not difficult. In reality Epicurus was an acute reasoner and in his youth he had made the round of the schools then flourishing.

Before his cadetship he was enrolled in Samos with Pamphilus the Platonist, probably for the usual four years, from the age of fourteen to eighteen. After his cadetship he studied with a capable Peripatetic, Praxiphanes of Rhodes, who was more interested in good writing than in oratorical rhetoric. Third and last on the list of able teachers was Nausiphanes of Teos, a shrewd and learned, though indolent, man, who perpetuated the teachings of Democritus, the atomist.

From this teacher Nausiphanes Epicurus parted in consequence of a violent quarrel, and it is probable that he had bickered with the previous two. He afterward denied all debt to any of them and boasted of being "self-taught." This boast bears a singular resemblance to the declaration of Paul to the Galatians: But I certify you, brethren, that the gospel that was preached of me is not after man; for I neither received it of man, neither was I taught it.

The comparison ends itself abruptly, however, because Epicurus did not claim divine inspiration. He regarded himself as the originator of truth and his disciples so esteemed him. In his writings he never quoted authorities; his utterances were offered as oracles. He referred to his doctrines as "true philosophy" and his disciples lauded him as a god and the sole discoverer of truth. After the savior sentiment became popular they also spoke of him as a savior.

The consciousness of a mission to bring happiness to mankind seems to have come to him while studying with Nausiphanes. At any rate he gave up all hope of arriving at wisdom by the help of teachers and resumed his residence with his parents and three brothers at Colophon. This was a small but ancient city a few miles north of Ephesus and deserves to be regarded with some distinction. It was there during the ensuing years that Epicurus worked out his system of thought to completion. This was the only world philosophy and the only missionary philosophy produced by the Greeks and was destined to flourish openly for seven centuries, three before Christ and four afterward. Even in modern times its influence operates anonymously.

In preparation for a brief recital of the doctrines of Epicurus certain paradoxical facts should be brought to attention and stored in mind. Of all Greek philosophers Epicurus is the only one who in point of appearance and demeanor would suggest the person of Christ. His bearded face, which is well known from surviving portrait busts, exhibits a quiet dignity and serenity of mien so suggestive of the popular concept of the countenance of Jesus as to be frequently remarked by the most disinterested observers. In ancient times this kindly face was universally known because of statues in public places and not less because of likenesses set into the finger rings of his followers. In Paul's own lifetime the reverence with which it was regarded provoked the scorn of the elder Pliny in Rome and at a later time the disgust of the churchman Origen in the East.

In harmony with this portraiture is the estimation of his personality as handed down in the tradition of his own school: "A truly sacred character and divinely gifted, the only man who has arrived at a knowledge of the true and the beautiful and has transmitted this knowledge to others, and the only man who has brought freedom to his followers."

In harmony with both portraiture and personality is the plan of life he recommended, a simple, unambitious way of living, far from the ignoble quest of wealth, power, and fame, characterized by courtesy combined with absolute veracity, good will to mankind, considerateness, loyalty to friends, benevolence, gratitude for past blessings, hope for the future, and in time of trouble patience.

Yet this threefold harmony of portraiture, personality, and attitudes – an historical preview of our conception of the appearance, character, and teachings of Jesus – must prompt us chiefly to realize the embarrassing predicament of Paul. The basis of reasoning upon which this plan of life was constructed could only be to him as horrifying as the practical precepts of the life were attractive. The plan was made to depend upon emancipation from the yoke of religion and the fear of death and divine wrath.

Yet this opposition of doctrine was only one aspect of the historical paradox. The more momentous aspect of it lay in the fact that the whole coherent structure of Epicurean materialism had been built up and solidified and disseminated over the Mediterranean world during the three centuries before the birth of Christ. It was consequently a necessity for Jesus and Paul to build up a substitute structure of thought in opposition to a system firmly and widely established and amply equipped in advance to oppose it and to criticize it.

All the armament of Epicurean logic which had been developed to combat Greek paganism and Platonic idealism was available from the outset for the crusade against the nascent Christianity. This conflict fell chiefly upon Paul, because it was his lot to carry the new gospel to the Greeks. For him the specific task was to build up a new structure of spirituality in the face of an entrenched and confident structure of materialism. It was the logic of the cross against the logic of the atom, an early phase of the long strife between science and religion. Epicurus himself became a sort of Antichrist.

Epicurus, like Jesus, began his ministry, if one may so write, about the age of thirty, and it may be added that he exhibited an aggressiveness comparable to that of Jesus in cleansing the temple. For his first venture as a public teacher his choice fell upon Mytilene, a thriving city on the island of Lesbos. There he quickly exasperated the local philosophers, who were Platonists, by denouncing their whole program of education, and especially rhetoric, which was in high demand as preparing young men for a public career and for this reason jealously guarded as the money-making branch of the curriculum.

These enemies retaliated by accusing Epicurus of impiety, which was treason under Greek law and punishable by death; they prodded the civil authorities into action and incited the rabble against him. So vicious became the threat to his life that the sole way of escape was flight by ship in wintry seas.

By good luck he arrived safely at the refuge of his choice, the city of Lampsacus on the Hellespont, now the Dardanelles; but on the way he was in danger of death by exposure or of capture by pirates, and he narrowly escaped shipwreck. This painful experience was taken to heart. Never again did he invite persecution.

Instead he took the determination to confine himself to peaceful methods and even prescribed rules of safety for his followers in his Authorized Doctrines. Thus the words Peace and Safety became catchwords of his sect and unless we are aware of this fact we shall fail to recognize the meaning of Paul in First Thessalonians 5:3: "For when they shall say Peace and Safety, then sudden destruction cometh upon them." This version, however, leaves something to be desired; it would be more accurate to read: "For at the very time that the words Peace and Safety are on their lips, sudden destruction is hanging over them."

In Lampsacus, although destitute and a refugee, Epicurus received protection and speedily made powerful friends among the officials of the local court, and in particular won the friendship of one Idomeneus, a scholarly and affluent man, who continued to furnish him generous financial support throughout the rest of his long life. It was there also that he gathered about him a group of able disciples, especially three: Hermarchus, who had followed him from Mytilene, and Metrodorus and Polyaenus.

These men were to him what Timothy, Titus, and Luke were to Paul at a later time. Moreover, just as Paul numbered women among his workers, such as Priscilla, so Epicurus had one Themista, a talented woman of Lampsacus, who wrote a book long famous on the Vanity of Glory. This may have been in the hands of Ecclesiastes when he wrote, "Vanity of vanities, all is vanity," and it is certain that Cicero mentioned it in a speech before the Roman senate.

After four years of happy residence in Lampsacus Epicurus was advised to leave it for the same reason that had brought him there in the beginning, considerations of safety; war seemed to be imminent between the Macedonian kings of Asia. His choice fell upon Athens, the best location for the dissemination of a new philosophy.

Even there, however, he did not dare to offer himself as a public teacher. Such a venture would have brought him under the jurisdiction of the superintendent of education, known as the gymnasiarch, and the spirit of persecution was then abroad. Only the year before his arrival, which occurred in 306 B.C., a law had been passed imposing the penalty of death for any philosopher who should offer himself as a public teacher without a license from the governing bodies. The law was repealed within the year but Epicurus was taking no chances; he confined his instruction to his own house within the city walls and to a garden outside.

It was no part of his plan to educate the Athenians. Already he had staked his claims in larger spheres of influence. His biographer writes that "friends came from all parts and shared the life with him in the Garden," this being the name by which the school became popularly known. From the outset it was planned that every alumnus should become a missionary. The method was essentially "each one teach one." All were supplied with textbooks specially written for home study and group instruction.

The bond of union among members of the sect in all parts was friendship. They called themselves "Friends of Epicurus." It was for this reason that Paul sedulously avoids the words friend and friendship; they occur nowhere in his writings, although not infrequent elsewhere in the New Testament.

While recognizing Epicurus as a venturesome innovator in ethics and education we must also bear in mind that no thinker, however rebellious, can escape the succession of thinkers and the tradition of culture into which he was born. Each individual is bound to adopt as much as he rejects. Epicurus, for instance, rejected the study of geometry as having no bearing on the practical life but he discerned the merit of the textbook style of writing that was perfected in that field by his contemporary Euclid. He recognized this unadorned way of writing as being specially adapted for the instruction of the multitudes whom he aspired to win over to his version of the happy life. He knew how to write artfully and was inclined toward the poetical, but he suppressed both of these tendencies in the interest of clarity, which he declared to be the sole requisite of style.

In pursuing this course he performed an unwitting service to Christianity by habituating the ancient public to the practice of reading plainly written textbooks on ethical subjects. He prepared the ground for Paul, in particular, who, like himself, felt the need of keeping in check the tendencies toward the rhetorical and the poetical.

In his textbooks Epicurus embodied the most neat and orderly system of knowledge ever put together in ancient times. It consisted of three parts, Canon, Physics, and Ethics, all of them known to Paul, as is revealed by specific references, if only we have learned to recognize the clues. Paul revealed his knowledge of the Canon by setting up a canon of his own; he recognized the Physics by postulating a different source of truth. He recognized the Ethics by adopting many of its teachings, changing the motivation.

By the canon was meant the criteria by which the truth was to be tested. These criteria or tests were three in number: Sensations, Feelings, and Anticipations, all of them furnished by Nature herself. To Epicurus Nature was the supreme teacher and Paul betrays his knowledge of this fact in First Corinthians 11:14 by writing: "Does not Nature herself teach you?" It also comes quite naturally to him to write "according to nature" and "contrary to nature." The more significance attaches to this because nowhere in the New Testament does the word nature occur except in the Epistles of Paul himself and those of Peter and James.

That the Canon of Epicurus was known to Paul is demonstrated by First Corinthians 2, where he lucidly sets up his substitute, which is spiritual insight, not an endowment of Nature, but the gift of God. As for the Physics, Epicurus deduced from this his whole system of ethics and Paul reveals both his awareness of this and his reaction to it by the vehemence with which he insists that "all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge" are hidden in God. A positive assertion of this kind presumes a negative and this negative is assuredly Epicurean. Epicurus had virtually taught that all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge are hidden in Nature.

The Sensations are five, corresponding to the five senses. According to Epicurus these are man's direct contact with physical realities. He thinks of the mind as an automatic mechanism for processing the data of the senses and points out what a marvellous job they do of taking care of us on our daily rounds and keeping us from tripping over sleeping dogs or falling into ditches. He never claims infallibility for the sensations, as modern scholars wrongly assert. Only immediate sensations are to be trusted. For example, if the observer sees a man face to face he can be sure whether it is Plato; at the distance of half a mile he cannot be sure whether it is Plato or Aristotle. Only the faceto-face recognition is sure.

Paul's reaction to this is highly interesting; he rejects it in theory and adopts it in practice. For example, he employs the terminology of sensation in one of his finest verses, First Corinthians 13:12: "For now we see in a mirror, indistinctly, but then face to face." On the contrary, in Colossians 2:18 he pours scorn on the unnamed Epicurean, "taking his stand on what he has seen, puffed up without justification by the mind of the flesh" (the translation is our own). Much of importance awaits to be said on this topic in Chapter IX.

The Feelings are two, pleasure and pain, Nature's educators, her Go and Stop signals, by which she trains man and beast to recognize what is good for him and what is evil in his environment. As criteria of truth the Feelings operate on both physical and social levels of life.

For example, justice gives pleasure and injustice hurts no less than a blow or a burn. What is meant by an Anticipation or, as Epicurus calls it, a Prolepsis, is not difficult to explain, though generally misunderstood. Epicurus believed that man is preconditioned by Nature for living in his physical and social environment. On the physical level he is equipped in advance by Sensations and Feelings. On the level of social and intellectual life he is equipped with innate ideas, such as that of justice, which exist in advance of experience and so anticipate experience, being for that reason called Anticipations. He thought of the mentality of the grown man as being anticipated in the newborn infant just as the whole physical body is anticipated in the embryo before birth. He even insisted that man is born with an innate notion of the divine nature, but only as "blissful and incorruptible," not wrathful. In spite of this fact his usual reputation was that of an atheist.

Under the term physics the Greeks included all natural science, the division into various branches such as chemistry and biology being destined to await the modern era. Epicurus chose to sponsor the atomic theory of the constitution of matter, whether animal or mineral. The term atom signified the minimum self-existing particle of matter. The word itself means "indivisible" and in order to express this idea in Latin the Romans coined the word individuus, from which we have the word "individual."  The whole theory of physics was reduced by Epicurus to Twelve Elementary Principles and a syllabus bearing this title was published for the use of his disciples. This list of Principles, it may be interposed, was the most lucid and orderly ever drawn up in ancient times, and with one exception would have been received with respect down to the date of an event so recent as the fission of the atom. By way of illustration the first seven are here listed with some adaptation to modern terminology:

As was bound to happen, this whole system became known to the enemies of Epicurus by that particular Principle which was most offensive and provocative of ridicule, the third. This was offensive because it implied that the soul of man itself was composed of atoms, just as the body itself, and therefore subject to dissolution, just as the body. It was especially open to ridicule because the atoms were such insignificant things upon which to base a whole system of knowledge. In Galatians 4:9 Paul sneered at them as "the weak and beggarly elements."

For the reason that the atom was the smallest thing imaginable the word was also used of time and in First Corinthians 15:52 it is translated "in a moment" and this is amplified as "in the twinkling of an eye," referring to the miracle of the general resurrection. This is the sole occurrence of the word in the Bible.

For the reason that all existing things were thought to be made of atoms, just as all words are made of letters, it was usual also to denote the atoms by the word elements, which properly means letters of the alphabet. The etymology of this word elements is curious and enlightening. The names of the letters seem to have come to us through the Romans from the Etruscans, who for some reason began with L M N, that is, el em en, hence Latin elementa, instead of beginning with A B C.

Under the name of elements the atoms are mentioned six times in the New Testament, three times simply as elements and three times as "elements of the universe," an unmistakable recognition of the third Elementary Principle of Epicurus: "The universe consists of atoms and space." In the light of the fact that Epicurus asserted the atoms to be indestructible it is especially interesting to read the defiant prediction in Second Peter 3:10 and 12: "the elements will be dissolved with fire" and "the elements will melt with fire."

The translators of 1611 were quite at a loss in interpreting these verses and the authors of the Revised Standard, not suspecting the influence of Epicurus, resorted to a farfetched explanation based upon belief in tutelary spirits of the universe; but there is no real justification for inserting the word spirits, as in Colossians 2:8 and 20, "the elemental spirits of the universe."

 
The Universe

As for the universe itself, Epicurus asserted in various writings, including his list of Elementary Principles, that it was infinite in extent. On this assumption, he was bound to believe also in an infinite number of worlds, more or less like our own earth; if there were only one world, the universe would not be infinite. Paul, of course, believed in a finite universe, consisting of heaven and earth, which God had created and would also destroy and rebuild. This idea of divine creation was, of course, ridiculed by Epicurus; he declared that "the universe was the same as it always had been and always would be the same," and this very declaration is placed in the mouths of "scoffers," though not precisely quoted, in Second Peter 3:4.

A curious detail is worthy of mention here. According to Epicurus, the one thing that never changed was the atom; it was eternal. However, the word he employs for "eternal" is not the word used repeatedly in the New Testament in this sense; but when Paul in Romans 1:20 writes of "the eternal power" of God, it is the uncommon word of Epicurus that he employs, which occurs elsewhere only in a similar context in Jude 6. It might seem as if Paul were gently twitting the Epicurean reader of his day. He certainly exhibits a familiarity with the Epicurean vocabulary which will not bear our neglect.

To return to our topic, the universe: in spite of divergence of opinion on the point of its extent, there was one detail in respect of which Epicurus and Paul agreed to differ with their respective races and agree with one another, the abolition of Hell. The Greeks knew this institution under the name of Acheron or Hades, the Jews as Gehenna or Sheoul. Both races thought of the world as divided into three regions: one above, one below, and another in between. Both Epicurus and Paul recognized but two regions, though for different reasons.

According to Epicurus the gods were incapable of wrath and consequently indifferent toward wickedness. According to Paul, God was capable of wrath but deliberately turned his back upon the wicked and abandoned them to their sins unless they chose to recognize the resurrected Christ. They were not punished but doomed to instant annihilation on the last day; "the wages of sin is death." Of temporal punishment there was none and consequently no need of Hell.

Just as Epicurus and Paul were in unison in abolishing a realm of punishment, so they were agreed upon regarding the resultant universe as two regions, the earthly and the heavenly. Yet there is a sharp limit to this agreement. It was the teaching of Epicurus that the abode of the gods was located in the spaces between the worlds, regions of peace and perpetual light. This coincides fairly well, of course, with Paul's conception of heaven; but the subsidiary teaching of Epicurus that these gods were totally indifferent to human wickedness was abhorrent.

His vehement reaction to this shocking doctrine may be found in Ephesians 6:12, where we read in the Revised Standard of "the spiritual hosts of wickedness in the heavenly places." A more detailed interpretation of this verse, however, must await its turn in Chapter VI.

Of the ethics of Epicurus it may be said that in antiquity no other design for living was judged to be more alluring. His teachings were compared to the voices of the Sirens, those mythical maidens whose sweetness of voice was said to cast an irresistible spell. In the Rome of Cicero's day the foremost teacher of the creed was given the name of Siro, that is, the man who lured men like a Siren.

The testimony of the illustrious churchman St. Augustine confirms the judgment of the pagans; he characterized the creed by three alluring words: Pleasure, Suavity, and Peace.

The word pleasure was merely an unfortunate choice of terms for happiness. The truth of this statement is made clear by a saying of Epicurus himself: "Even on the rack the wise man is happy." Under torture the wise man could not affirm that he was enjoying pleasure; but, like the Christian martyr of later times, he could still lay claim to happiness. The pleasure of Epicurus was not the pleasure of the flesh, though his enemies willfully chose to thus misconstrue it.

Happiness in his view of things consisted in the memory of pleasures past, the enjoyment of pleasures present, and the hope of pleasures to come. This teaching was summed up in a famous saying: "Pleasure is the beginning and the end of the happy life."

Plato had committed himself to the doctrine that continuous pleasure was impossible. Epicurus wrote to one of his young disciples: "It is to continuous pleasures that I invite you." This invitation was matched by Paul, who wrote in Philippians 4:4: "Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice."

Fullness was elevated to the rank of an alluring word in the language of Epicurus. In order to reconcile mankind to the surrender of belief in immortality he argued that fullness of pleasure could be attained in this mortal life, because the list of pleasures is limited and all natural desires for pleasure can be satisfied. With pleasure, of course, Paul could have no commerce and he studiously avoids the very name of it, but the idea of fullness was alluring, and so, in the compass of a single Epistle, that to the Ephesians, we find mention of "the fullness of him who fills all in all," "the fullness of God," and "the measure of the stature of the fullness of Christ."

The blessed idea of fullness as a goal and consummation of living has been retained but the content of meaning has been utterly transformed; the word has been lifted bodily out of one context of thought and incorporated into another.

Freedom is bound to be an attractive word in all ages. Epicurus held out this lure to the world of his day. By him it was defined as freedom from fears: from fear of fate, fear of the calamities of life, fear of vengeful gods, of death, and punishment after death. Christianity was bound to have an offer to substitute for this; and Paul writes in Galatians 5:13: "For it was on the presumption of freedom that you Galatians were called, brethren," and to this he adds, with silent reference to Epicurus: "only not to the kind of freedom that means license to the flesh." The new freedom is emancipation from the bondage of sin.

The discovery of faith as a virtue was an incident in the life story of Epicurus. One of the thinkers who captured his interest in his student days was Pyrrho, the skeptic, who had resigned himself to belief in the impossibility of certainty in knowledge. Epicurus, however, was not the man to resign himself; he rebelled, discerning that uncertainty was incompatible with assured peace of mind. So he became a dogmatist, the first dogmatist among the Greek philosophers.

He gave up controversy and began to write as one having authority. Among other writings, for example, he published his forty Authorized Doctrines, veritable Articles of Faith, which his disciples were to commit to memory. Thus faith made its first appearance as faith in doctrine. The solid core of truth in this teaching was too precious to be cast overboard by his successors. Among these was Paul, who discerned even a higher value in the new virtue and transformed its meaning to denote faith in the resurrected Christ, though in its more general aspect it became faith in God.

The virtue of hope has a similar history. It was Epicurus who first assigned to it a specific role in a plan of life. Paul found for it a new role in the plan of salvation. Epicurus deemed it necessary in planning the mortal life to make a rational choice of attitudes; hope was the rational attitude to assume toward the future; the wise man should so order his life as to be justified in the hope of pleasures to come. This function of hope was recognized by Paul when he wrote, "Love hopeth all things," but a new and specific meaning for the word was found in the hope of the resurrection.

Love, like hope, had one aspect for Epicurus and two for Paul. To his followers Epicurus offered the lure of friendship and good companionship; in their own circles his disciples were known as "Friends of Epicurus." Paul never employs the words friend or friendship; he brushes them aside and substitutes the larger concept of the love of God. His readers are urgently exhorted to love one another but this brotherly love becomes a particular aspect of the larger concept, the love of God. To love one another is to imitate God.

The fact remains, nevertheless, that the philosophy of friendship flourished in advance of the religion of love and created a climate of feeling favorable to its reception.

These three topics will be suitably amplified in the chapter on Faith, Hope, and Love.

Of the three watchwords of the Epicureans cited by St. Augustine, pleasure, suavity, and peace, the first has been discussed above. Suavity and peace await brief mention.

Suavity was defined by Cicero, not without having the Epicureans in mind, as "an agreeableness of speech and manners." This virtue defined the proper attitude to assume toward all men and especially toward outsiders, just as Paul advises in Colossians 4:5-6, as the Revised Standard renders it: "Conduct yourselves wisely toward outsiders, making the most of the time. Let your speech always be gracious." Within the Epicurean circle this suavity or courtesy was to be joined with candor. Friends were to correct one another without animus and accept correction without resentment, just as Paul writes in Ephesians 4:15 under the formula, "speaking the truth in love." This topic will be touched upon here and there in the chapters that follow.

Just as Epicurus held out to mankind the pleasures of friendship and good companionship, seasoned with courtesy and candor, so he offered the enjoyment of peace. Peace presents two aspects. So far as it means peace of mind, it overlaps the concept of freedom, which among other things means freedom from fears. This has been dealt with already.

So far as peace of mind means happy relationships in the family and community, this depends chiefly upon the virtue of considerateness, of which Epicurus made a specialty. While this virtue applies to all contacts of the individual with others, a single particular may be cited for illustration.

It was the custom of the ancients to beat their slaves, often without mercy. That Epicurus was opposed to this corporal punishment we are informed by his biographer; and Paul, when listing the qualifications of a good bishop in First Timothy 3:3, warns specifically that he must not be "given to blows but considerate," employing the Epicurean word for considerate, which nowhere occurs in the Gospels. In this passage no ancient reader would have failed to observe that the reference is to the treatment of slaves; even their feelings deserved consideration if family life was to be peaceful.

Thus the philosophy of peace was flourishing in advance of the religion of peace. What Paul did was to rehabilitate the whole concept of peace and assemble all aspects of it under a single phrase, "the peace of God." It may be added that the phrases "gospel of peace" and "God of peace" are peculiar to his Epistles.

In his Epistle to the Colossians, 2:4, Paul issues a warning against the "enticing words" or "beguiling speech" of the Epicurean competitors, whom he will never name. These translations are imprecise; the meaning is rather "plausible reasonings," and we shall improve our understanding if we succeed in pinning the meaning down to specific references.

What Paul fears is the attractiveness of the doctrines compiled by Epicurus in numerous textbooks. These doctrines were simply stated and in forms that were readily memorized. As a specimen we may choose the classification of the desires, which was widely known in antiquity: "Of the desires some are natural and necessary; some are natural but not necessary; and others are neither natural nor necessary." This is Authorized Doctrine 29.

The neatness of this classification was acknowledged even by Cicero. It is not only neat and easy to remember; it is also easy to expand. The natural and necessary desires are four: for food, drink, clothing, and housing. Jesus himself may have had this list in mind when, as recorded in Matthew 6:25, he said, "what ye shall eat or what ye shall drink; nor yet for your body, what ye shall put on."

The point that is regularly urged by Epicurus is this, that it wounds our vanity "but occasions no pain to the body if we lack the garment resplendent with purple and adorned with striking designs in thread of gold, providing only we have a plain cloak to fend off the cold." To covet costly raiment is to labor under a delusion, the false idea that it contributes to happiness.

The second class of desires, those that are natural but not necessary, are sexual, as also those for luxurious viands and rare wines. No harm results if these are not gratified.

The third class, the desires that are neither natural nor necessary, is curiously defined in an ancient commentary as referring to "crowns and statues in public places." Greek statesmen were sometimes awarded circlets of gold as rewards for public service. The warning of Epicurus in this instance is against all highly competitive careers, which bring no real happiness. Paul too has warnings to issue against the competitive spirit; in Philippians 1:17 he even identifies men who, thinking to cause him affliction, "proclaim the gospel of Christ out of a spirit of competition."

If now we make a last scrutiny of this classification, we should observe that its popularity made of the desires a foremost topic in the public mind. Epicurus, of course, recognized many desires as natural and only potentially injurious. This attitude was untenable for Paul. In his view of things, the very name of desire was in the same class as the word pleasure, both of them tainted with suspicion because of the association with the flesh. Thus the word pleasure is banned from his vocabulary and the word desire used regularly in an evil sense.

This very cautiousness of Paul, however, reveals both his fears and his awareness of the Epicurean teaching. This awareness is revealed to us sometimes by a single word. For instance, in a certain saying Epicurus employs the phrase, "injurious desires," which is found also in First Timothy 6:9, though even this adjective injurious occurs nowhere else in the New Testament. When Paul recognizes "injurious desires," he tacitly recognizes desires that are not injurious, just as Epicurus taught.

The evidence is not confined, however, to one word. Paul also employs a word that was probably coined by Epicurus, kenodoxia, as in Philippians 2:3, where mistranslations are the rule. The reasoning behind this is simple; if we allow our desires to make our decisions for us, we become victims of a delusion or cherish an illusion. For example, we imagine that riches spell happiness.

About the topic of wealth and poverty and "the deceitfulness of riches" Epicurus had much to say himself and regarded it as of such importance as to turn it over to his trusted colleague Metrodorus for amplification in a separate treatise. Opposed to the delusive vision of happiness that went with wealth was the genuine happiness that resulted from contentment with little, and much remains to be said about this in connection with Philippians 4:10-13 and First Timothy 6:6-10.

In the meantime, we may quote four aphorisms of the sort that justify the popularity of Epicurean teachings in the times of the New Testament:

Nothing is enough for a man for whom enough is too little.

Of contentment with little the greatest fruit is freedom.

To acquire great wealth and live a life of freedom is impossible.

It were better for you to recline upon a cheap cot in peace of mind than to have a gilded bedstead and a luxurious table and a soul in turmoil.

The jaundiced tradition that denounces Epicurus as an atheist is sheer slander. In point of fact he regarded himself as a religious reformer, who was recalling mankind to a more pure and lofty conception of the divine being.

He maintained the belief in the existence of gods to be innate in the mind of man and to exist there in advance of all religious experience. As evidence of this he cited the universal response of mankind to the belief in the existence of gods.

He conceived of the divine nature as "blessed and incorruptible." Upon his disciples he urged the necessity of associating no idea with the divine nature that was inconsistent with this perfection of happiness and incorruptibility. The supreme duty of man was reverence; the very names of the gods should be sacred. No task was to be ascribed to them that was by its nature onerous, such as superintending the operations of the universe, which was to be thought self-operating under natural laws.

The very first of his Authorized Doctrines declared the gods to be incapable of anger. Anger was a disturbing emotion and a symptom of weakness; to ascribe such an emotion to the gods was to detract from their sanctity and to diminish their claim to the worship of mankind. Upon this worship as embodied in the public festivals, especially the music, he placed supreme importance and among his sayings is one to the effect that "the wise man will derive more enjoyment than other men from the state festivals."

If this elimination of anger from celestial minds was offensive to orthodox pagan Greeks, it was still more so when it became known to orthodox Jews, whose Jehovah bore a unique reputation as a God of wrath. Equally offensive was the removal of the gods from all participation in human affairs, which involved the rejection of belief in divine prophecy, in miracles, and divine providence.

These teachings were judged to cancel all the merit that resided in the demand of Epicurus for more reverence for godhead; they relegated him to the evil eminence of being the archenemy of religion and a sort of Antichrist.

We should recall, however, the words of Paul in Second Thessalonians 2:3: "for that day will not come, unless the rebellion comes first." In the procession of time the rebellion of Epicurus did come first and as a consequence the God of wrath of the Old Testament was transformed into the God of love of the New Testament.

II
 
PHILIPPIANS
Their God Is the Belly

THE Epistle to the Philippians happens to be suitable for beginning a study of Epicureanism in the writings of Paul. The two parties in each community from which the chief opposition arose to the invading Christianity are here typically but briefly presented. The first was the fundamentalist party among the Jews, which is unmistakably identified even for the modern reader by the word circumcision. The second party consisted of the ubiquitous and numerous disciples of Epicurus of which the identity was as plainly manifest to the ancient reader as was that of the Jewish fundamentalists, though to the modern reader the symbols of identification have long since become meaningless.

In order to restore meaning to these symbols the reader must learn first where to expect them and in order to know where to expect them he must know how Paul's letters are put together. They are composed according to a good Greek formula, which was recognized and recommended by Artistotle. If from each Epistle the salutation and concluding messages be lopped off, the body of the letter will be seen to consist of three parts, a beginning, middle, and end.

The beginning conciliatory: Paul compliments the community for its faith or for its kindness to him in the past. This is the bid for good will and a sympathetic hearing, well known to rhetoricians as the captatio benevolentiae. The middle part contains warnings, expositions of doctrine, and scoldings, if any, which might' possibly try the good will and patience of readers. The concluding passage is reserved for friendly admonition and exhortation.

This happens to be a good Epicurean pattern. The same formula is employed by the Epicurean poet Lucretius. He begins each book with a flourish of enthusiasm, packs all the prosaic material in the middle, and takes care to conclude, as if leaving the lectern and mounting the pulpit, with a lofty discourse upon ethics. Even the three extant letters of Epicurus conclude with brief moral exhortation.

It is in the middle part of the Epistles of Paul that offensive doctrines of the Epicureans are to be expected; it is in the last section of each Epistle that adoptable features of the friendly Epicurean ethics are to be expected. Of the two kinds of doctrine, the offensive and the adoptable, the former are the easier to identify. For example, in the Epistle to the Philippians we should have but little trouble in learning to identify the Epicureans either by the words "their god is the belly" or "they glory in their shame." On the other hand, a keener discernment must be acquired to recognize Epicurean teaching toward the end in 4:11: "for I have learned in whatever state I am, therewith to be content."

When once we have become thoroughly alerted to the implications of Paul's words and phrases the references to the Epicureans will prove to be numerous. For example, when he speaks in 3:18 of "the enemies of the cross of Christ," this denotation of the rival sect will be found elaborated in First Corinthians, where the logic of the Epicureans is opposed to "the word of the cross," that is, spirituality. Again, when he writes in 3:19, "Their end is destruction," this doom is specifically predicted for the Epicureans in First Thessalonians 5:3, where they are identified by their catchwords Peace and Safety. Again, when in 3:19 he writes, "with minds set on earthly things," the antithesis between "things that are on earth" and "things that are above," with demonstrable reference to Epicureanism, may be found elaborated in Colossians 3.

All of these allusions are damning enough but the more serious are two (3:19): "their god is the belly" and "they glory in their shame." Both reproaches are as old as Epicureanism itself. The former has been the longer lived; it may be found in any English dictionary today by looking up the word epicure, which will be found to denote a sensualist and especially one who is given over to the pleasures of the stomach. In the Middle Ages the idea was expressed in pictures. In one of these Epicurus is represented in company with Sardanapalus, an infamous oriental voluptuary.

It mattered little that this charge was false. It has been rightly said that Epicurus is the most calumniated of all philosophers. His offense, in the eyes of his enemies, was to have reached the conclusion that pleasure was the chief good in life or, to be more precise, the chief end of man as demonstrated by the teaching of Nature herself. Even the newly born, Epicurus pointed out, whether brute or human, reaches out for pleasure as the greatest good and shrinks from pain as the greatest evil.

In the judgment of his enemies, it was not to be chalked up to his credit that by the teaching of the very same Nature who identified pleasure as the greatest good the definition of true pleasure was so narrowed as to demand of her devotees a strictness of life that was almost ascetic. The pleasure of drinking, for example, was to be limited by the quenching of thirst; the pleasure of eating was to be limited by the satisfaction of hunger.

Of these principles Paul was fully aware, as he was of the whole doctrine of Epicurus, and in Colossians 2:23, he even shows himself compelled to concede some merit in them, although to ascertain his exact attitude the translation will require correction. This will be one of the many passages where the knowledge of Epicurean doctrine will help us to discover what Paul was intending to say.

In addition to the general sponsorship of pleasure there were specific teachings that lent plausibility to the charge that "their god is the belly." One of these stems from Metrodorus, able lieutenant of Epicurus: "The pleasure of the stomach is the beginning and the root of all good, and in this the things of wisdom and the refinements of life have their standard of reference."

Quoted out of context this judgment exhibits a shocking rawness. It must be appraised, however, as part of a genetic approach to the study of ethics. It presumes that human life develops by stages: infancy, childhood, adolescence, and maturity. The pleasure of the stomach is the first one known in infancy; other organs with their respective pleasures come to activity one by one. The mind matures last of all and must be regarded as an organ of the physical being no less than the stomach. The poet Lucretius, for example, chooses to insist upon the point that the mind is an organ of the body no less than the ear.

This adds up to the conclusion that pleasure is a common denominator of all bodily activity, mental activity not excluded, and justifies the declaration quoted above that "in this . . . the refinements of life have their standard of reference." The timorous thinker would rather embrace unreason than be escorted by reason to such a verdict.

Epicurus, however, was quite immune to the timidity of the conventional moralist with regard to pleasure. He maintained that pleasure and health go together just as pain and disease; nor was it any more possible to dissociate pleasure from the healthy life than it was possible to dissociate heat from fire. Pleasure, he taught, is the ruling motive from the cradle to the grave. Even virtue is practiced for the sake of pleasure; the good life and the happy life go together just like sweetness and honey. He flouted the idea of Plato that the value of a virtue is diminished if accompanied by pleasure. "I spit upon the beautiful," he wrote, "if it fails to give pleasure."

It was the sponsorship of pleasure that from the first drew upon Epicurus the imputation of shamelessness. The very name of pleasure can be frightening to conventional morality and pious respectability. Aristotle ventured the judgment that even people who believed that pleasure had the sanction of Nature as the chief end of man would hesitate to sponsor the doctrine. Cicero, speaking for the man in public life, observed the impossibility of sponsoring pleasure "in the forum, in the senate, or in the camp."

Epicurus was denounced by Timon, a vulgar satirist, as "the lowest dog among the physicists," the dog being to the Greeks the symbol of shamelessness because it does in public what human beings veil with privacy. It is this satirical jab of the Greek Timon that enables us to interpret with unassailable certainty the reference to Epicureans in 3: 2: "Beware of the dogs." It is this idea that Paul with his customary tenacity of topic is elaborating in 3:19: "they glory in their shame."

A variant of this general outcry was authored by the Platonists, who declared that to sponsor pleasure as the end of living as to bring life down to the level of the beasts. A censorious Stoic named Hierocles capped this chorus of denunciations by the acrid epigram: "To believe that pleasure is the end is the creed of a prostitute; to deny providence is beneath even a prostitute."

Incidentally, the popular opinion that the Stoics were the outspoken and courageous sect is questionable. Their outspokenness was rather an affectation and their real intention was to astonish rather than to defy. Essentially they were reactionaries, fundamentalists in revolt against Epicurean hedonism. They made a great show of sponsoring the words and concepts that salve the consciences and flatter the vanity of mankind: virtue, duty, divine providence, reason. The hypocrites rallied to their side. Meanwhile, it was around Epicurus and the memory of him that "all the dogs of philosophy were barking" – to borrow a phrase from the churchman Lactantius – Stoic dogs foremost among them.

It required no courage to preach that virtue is the chief good. It did require courage to declare that the practice of virtue cannot be separated from pleasure, that the gods were not superintending engineers of a complicated universe, and that the divine being was incapable of anger.

Even the Authorized Doctrines of Epicurus would have afforded ground for the accusation that "they gloried in their shame." In certain of these Doctrines the founder had stated his teachings on the subject of pleasure with a directness that seemed like shameless defiance of orthodox morality. One of them reads: "No pleasure is evil in itself but the practices productive of certain pleasures may result in distresses outweighing by many times the pleasures themselves." This means that all pleasures are good; the evil lies solely in their consequences.

In another of these doctrines he went so far as to assert that if the pleasures of profligates dispelled the fears of the mind and similar disturbing emotions, "we would never have cause to blame them, glutting themselves with pleasures from every side and experiencing no pain of body or distress of mind from any quarter, in which the evil lies."

This statement alone, originally published in the heat of controversy, even if no other evidence were citable, would justify the censure, "they glory in their shame."

The mention of "minds set on earthly things" is a further identification of Epicureans. This refers to the fact that Epicurus based his whole system of ethics, including a very definite design for living, upon his Physics, of which the basic doctrine declared: "The universe consists of atoms and void," implying definitely that nothing else really existed.

A more suitable place for amplifying this topic will be presented by the Epistle to the Galatians. Here it may be profitable, however, to prepare the way by an advance notice to the effect that this materialism, based upon the atomic hypothesis, accounts in large part for a characteristic dualism in Paul's thought. The atoms stand for "earthly things," that is, "things that are on earth" as opposed to "things that are above," well known from Colossians 3: 2. Another guise of the same dualism is discerned in the opposition between the flesh and the Spirit and in "the desires of the flesh" and "the desires of the Spirit," as also in "the works of the flesh" and "the works of the Spirit," long stamped on Christian minds by Galatians 5:16-25.

This dualism, a fruitful and fascinating feature of Pauline thought, was inherent in the philosophy of Epicurus, who thought of this earth we inhabit as a place "where the forces of destruction always prevail in the end over the forces of creation," and set in opposition to it the heavenly regions, "where the forces of preservation always prevail over the forces of destruction."

We shall find this distinction making its reappearance in our study of the illustrious fifteenth chapter of First Corinthians. It will be seen to be there typified by the Pauline expository invention of "the first Adam" and "the last Adam," the former the recipient at God's hand of mortal life -- that is, corruption -- the second, Jesus Christ, endowed by God with the power to bestow immortal spiritual life -- that is, incorruption. This will be one of the many items of interpretation that serve to uncover for us the background of Paul's thought, just as a later painting is sometimes peeled off the wall of an ancient church to reveal a fresco of earlier Christianity.

Such discoveries may have for their reward an improved understanding and more precise translations.

In the last chapter of Philippians Paul turns to friendly admonitions, of which the firm but genial Epicurus had made a specialty long before him. It is in concluding sections of each letter that these adoptable teachings of the friendly pagan sect may most often be detected. A specimen may sometimes be identified in the simplest and most innocent admonition.

Take, for example, 3:1, "rejoice in the Lord," and 4:4. "Rejoice in the Lord always." Why should Paul say "always" and why should he seek emphasis by repetition, "Again I will say, Rejoice"? Behind this lies a chapter of discussion in the history of philosophy. Plato, became rather notorious after his death for having put himself in a position to deny that a man could be happy all the time. He had associated pleasure with the various organs of the body. These, of course, cannot be in a state of excitement all the time. Consequently there must be peaks of pleasure separated by intervals devoid of pleasure or by "mixed states," in which pain and pleasure are simultaneously present.

Epicurus, who followed closely upon Plato in point of time, vigorously rejected the assumption that continuous happiness was impossible. "If your analysis of pleasure leads to this conclusion," he said in effect, "then your analysis of pleasure is wrong." His solution was to associate pleasure with health just as pain is associated with disease. It follows that if a man can be healthy all the time, he can also be happy all the time.

Moreover, he denied that pleasure and pain could be mixed, as Plato claimed. He maintained instead that pain could be subtracted from pleasure, leaving a balance of pleasure, and that this was true in all but the most acute illnesses. Hence Epicurus is on record as writing to a youthful correspondent: "As for myself, it is to continuous pleasures that I invite you." His aim is to immunize the minds of his disciples against Platonic teachings without naming the adversary, an example that Paul copied in his treatment of Epicurus.

If we now bear in mind, as we ought, that Paul is addressing himself to communities in which Epicureans are numerous and that he is willing to become "as a Greek to the Greeks" in order to bring some of them over to his creed, could he afford to offer them less happiness than Epicurus had offered? Hardly. Therefore, his "Rejoice in the Lord always" may be taken as a substitute for the words of his competitor, "It is to continuous pleasures that I invite you." Yet how completely the motivation has changed! In the logic of Epicurus pleasure is continuous because it can no more be separated from living than sweetness from honey; even the invalid can subtract the pain from the pleasure, leaving a balance of pleasure. The reason for the Christian's rejoicing, on the contrary, is the imminence of the second coming: "The Lord is at hand."

Incidentally, the recognition of this fact reveals an error of translation in the Revised Standard, which reads in 4:5: "Let all men know your forbearance." It is not forbearance that this happy expectation demands but consistency; unless they rejoice their conduct will not be in keeping with their belief. Consequently, for the sake of precision we should read: "Let your consistency be known to all men."

It may be interjected, by the way, that the Greek word here rendered "consistency" occurs only in the Epistles and is a favorite of the Epicureans. It denotes propriety in matters of conduct, that is, what befits or becomes a person in a particular case.

Paul's reluctant partiality for the vocabulary of Epicurus often supplies the clue that leads to precision of interpretation, and, as already mentioned, this is especially true of the concluding sections of the Epistles, where adoptable items of the friendly creed most often present themselves. Take for an example the familiar verse 4:8, which begins, "Finally, brethren, whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honest."

As a devotional reading this ephonious passage has been casting its spell over innumerable congregations for the space of centuries, but how many of the worshipers who have experienced comfort and uplift from the sound of it could explain exactly what is meant by "whatsoever things are lovely"? Would the translators themselves be capable of explaining? To press this question might prove to be embarrassing.

In advance of the experiment of trying to discover what this verse would have signified to an Epicurean a word of caution is in order. It is not being denied that Paul was capable of using his language artfully, but it will be emphatically denied that he was ever willing to sacrifice meaning for the sake of euphony. It will be consistently assumed instead that his ideas are clean-cut and his references definite at all times. The problem will be to pinpoint the reference and to bring the meaning into focus.

In seeking help from Epicurus to explain Paul it deserves also to be brought to knowledge that this procedure involves a shocking rivalry of loyalties. In the Greek language the name Epicurus signifies "helper" or "succorer" and this may account in part for Paul's detestation of it and unwillingness to mention it. To concede to the adversary the title of helper, which by implication belonged to Jesus, was only one degree less repellent than to know that his disciples knew him as a savior, which they did. Epicurus became virtually a sort of Antichrist.

This understandable aversion is nevertheless not unmixed with reluctant admiration, which is also understandable, because Epicurus and his disciples had surpassed all others in their shrewd studies of human behavior. Paul's admiration is revealed in the words he employs.

It will be best for us to begin with "whatsoever things are lovely," because the word lovely is so very vague. There is no vagueness in its Greek counterpart, prosphiles, which applies to a person's demeanor and signifies "friendly" or "disposed to make friends." It is citable in Epicurean writings and in the New Testament only in this verse. The disciples of Epicurus were urged "all at the same time to wear a smile and practice their philosophy." They were a cheerful and ingratiating breed of men, aiming "to make friends with as many people as possible." They made a cult of friendliness.

It becomes manifest, therefore, that what Paul is urging upon the Philippians is to let their thoughts dwell upon "whatever makes for friendliness." The meaning is clean-cut.

Now that we have discovered Paul to be speaking of the proper demeanor for Christians we are in a better position to make a try for the meaning of "whatsoever things are agood report" or "whatever is gracious," as the Revised Standard has it. Both of these are needlessly vague. The Greek word here employed is the opposite of "blasphemous," which originally meant "slanderous." So Paul's meaning becomes clear; he is urging the Philippians to let their thoughts dwell upon "whatever makes for charity in speaking of others."

Next let attention be turned to "whatsoever things are honest" or, as in the Revised Standard, "whatever is honorable." The Greek word is semnos and means neither "honest" nor "honorable" but "worthy of reverence." It is used in the New Testament only by Paul and was a favorite of Epicurus. The latter demanded reverence for himself as the discoverer of truth and declared the principle: "Reverence for the wise man is a great blessing for him who feels the reverence." Moreover, he required of each disciple to show reverence for all who were farther advanced than himself on the way to wisdom.

Let us next scrutinize Paul's own use of this Epicurean word. In First Timothy 3:8 and 11 and Titus 2:2 he requires that deacons, elders and women should so deport themselves "as to be worth of reverence." Conversely, he is urging the Philippians always to display reverence toward those who had been appointed to positions of superiority over them, precisely as Epicurus had demanded reverence for those who were farther advanced in wisdom.

In other words, Paul is making the Christian pattern of behavior. acceptable to Epicurean converts by adapting to the needs of the new community the very pattern of behavior to which they were already habituated. In his own words, he was making himself  "as a Greek to the Greeks," which means "as an Epicurean to the Epicureans."

The requirements of precision will be served if we translate this as "whatever makes for reverence." The same exhortation expressed in other words may be found as a parting admonition in First Thessalonians 5:12 and Hebrews 13:7 and 17.

In dealing with the remaining items of Paul's list of injunctions the principle should still apply, that his reference is invariably precise. For example, in the case of "whatever is pure," the reference is to fornication and homosexual practices. It is a fact no less deplorable than well authenticated that these vices were often condoned by Greek philosophers. even by Plato, as Cicero conceded. It is not true, however, as sometimes asserted, that the Christians were the first to set their faces against such inchastities. Epicurus had taken the same stand three centuries before.

Plato had even dreamed that the passion of the flesh could be sublimated into a passion for knowledge and it was in reply to this astonishing teaching that Epicurus retorted crisply: "Sexual intercourse never did anyone any good and it is fortunate if it does no harm." He was unable to call it an offense against the gods, because he declared them indifferent to human wickedness, but he did denounce it for its ugly fruits, which he took pains to enumerate.

In this instance we may recognize yet another segment of the common ground of doctrine between Epicureanism and Christianity which eased the transition from the age of philosophy to that of religion. The truth of this statement is not canceled by the fact that the sponsorship of pleasure by Epicurus was sometimes made an excuse for loose living. Even Paul's doctrine of election by God for salvation was seized upon by some as a license to sin; if a man had been elected for salvation, it was argued, laxity of conduct could not alter the fact.

The usual precision of reference is to be demanded for the next item of Paul's six injunctions, "whatsoever things are just." To assume that the reference is to righteousness is not specific enough. In the everyday ethic of Epicurus the meaning of justice was obedience to the law of the land. In one context we find him writing: "Let us do everything honorably according to the laws." In Romans 13:1 Paul writes: "Let every person be subject governing authorities." Epicurus writes: "The laws are enacted far the of the wise, not that they may do wrong, but to prevent them from suffering wrong." Paul writes in Romans 13:3: "For rulers are not a deterrent to good behavior but to bad."

These quotations demonstrate plainly that the attitude of Paul toward the civil authorities is practically identical with that of Epicurus, but, as usual, the motivation is different. In this chapter of Romans Paul takes the position that "the powers that be are ordained of God" and that "love is the fulfilling of the law." In the last analysis, according to him, the Christian obeys the law "because love worketh no ill to his neighbor."

Neither was the motivation of Epicurus coldly utilitarian. His biographer speaks of his patriotic attitude toward his country as "beyond words to describe." If in his candor he often mentioned the motive of expediency, we must also remember that the most honorable action may also be profitable.

In respect of this question of obedience to the law the procedure of Paul himself deserves to be scanned. In spite of the fact that in First Thessalonians 5: 3 he poured contempt upon the catchwords of Peace and Safety, he was by no means blind to the wisdom of the Epicurean practice. For himself he did not pursue safety; at times it was his deliberate choice not to seek protection for himself as a Roman citizen: he submitted to scourging under Roman law just as he had submitted to flogging under Jewish law. For the members of his churches, on the contrary, he coveted the blessings of peace and safety. He encouraged for them no cult of martyrdom any more than Epicurus encouraged it for his followers. It was after his time, though immediately afterward, that the leaders of Christianity began to find reason for the defiance of Roman law.

Only one of Paul's six injunctions now awaits explanation: "whatsoever things are true." This, like the others, may be redeemed from its present vagueness by recourse to the precepts of Epicurus. He required of his disciples total truthfulness in personal relations. This virtue was to be seasoned with courtesy, not peppered with censure, as with the Stoics. Expressed in Latin, where it is well authenticated, the ideal was comitas with severitas, a kindly courtesy joined with unflinching veracity. It was for this combination of traits that Atticus, the Epicurean friend of Cicero, was praised; his biographer writes of him that "it was hard to decide whether his friends feared or loved him more."

Commendable as this union of courtesy with veracity may seem to be, it still falls short of describing the whole meaning of truthfulness according to Epicurus. Veracity must be demanded as well as practiced. Of the Epicurean Atticus it is recorded: "He would neither be guilty of telling a lie nor of submitting to listen to one." Is it then likely that Paul was demanding less when he wrote in Colossians 3:9: "Do not lie to one another," and in Galatians 6:1: "Brethren, if a man is overtaken in some misdoing, you who are spiritual should set him right in a spirit of gentleness"?

It is hard to escape the conclusion that all three aspects of truthfulness are in the mind of Paul: to speak the truth, to demand that others speak the truth, and to correct the friend without condemning him.

Incidentally, the words gentle and gentleness seem to have been overworked in our translations of the New Testament. They are not specific enough. For instance, in the sentence above it would be more precise to read "a spirit of considerateness." The Epicurean combination of truthfulness with a considerate courtesy undoubtedly attracted Paul. In Ephesians 4: 15 he calls it "speaking the truth in love."

If now we pause and survey these findings and set them in order, it will appear that the rhythm of this sententious verse, as we have come to know it in the King James Version, has been sacrificed, but by way of compensation the true significance of each item has been fixed with precision and the reference of all to the appropriate area of conduct has been defined. The residue may be worded as follows in plain prose: "Finally, brethren, everything that promotes truthfulness, everything that promotes reverence, everything that promotes respect for law, everything that promotes chastity, everything that promotes friendliness, everything that promotes charity in speech, whatever virtue there be, whatever be worthy of praise, think on these things."

 
Think on These Things

Out of our prosaic version submitted above it has been thought worth while to reserve for closer scrutiny the final injunction of Paul, "think on these things." In these innocent words we shall find something more than meets the eye. To this formula of writing the reading public of the time had long been habituated by the textbooks of Epicurus. For example, he concludes the hortatory letter to the lad Menoeceus with the advice, "Meditate upon these things."

A rewarding clue may be found in the verb employed by Paul. It is more colorful than think. It has been taken over from the domain of arithmetic and means "to do figuring" or, we may say, "to calculate," because the ancients used pebbles in counting. The word calculus means "pebble" in Latin.

This verb signifying "to calculate" is often used by Paul; it does not occur in the Gospels but is a favorite of Epicurus. For instance, he recommends to the lad Menoeceus the practice of "sober calculation, which searches out the reasons for deciding to do or not to do any particular thing." In another context he puts the same advice in a different shape, saying in effect: "What will be the result for me if I choose to do this and what will be the result if I choose not to do it?"

To illustrate by an imaginary example: "This sumptuous meal will make me ill but my stomach hankers for it. Will the pleasure be worth the pain?" Modern critics have disdainfully dubbed this "the calculus of pleasure" but more precisely it may be called "the calculus of advantage." In this same letter to Menoeceus Epicurus writes: "The proper procedure in all actions is to scan the advantages and the disadvantages and weigh them against each other."

This calculus of advantage under the name of expediency is in bad odor today and has been seized upon to justify the denunciation of Epicurus as an "egoistic hedonist," actuated solely by self-interest. This charge, however, will not bear a moment's scrutiny. Epicurus came very close to enunciating the Golden Rule and declares in one of his best-known Authorized Doctrines that a man cannot live pleasurably unless honorably, that is, in accordance with the unwritten laws that govern the conduct of a gentleman. In another saying he warns a young man who was prone to sexual indulgence against "causing distress to a neighbor" and in this context he was expressly stating the principle of expediency.

This topic was a familiar ingredient of public knowledge in Paul's time and he reveals ample awareness of it, employing the same terminology as Epicurus. He is also at one with Epicurus in understanding expediency as the good of one's neighbor. For instance, he writes in First Corinthians 10:23-24: "All things are permissible for me but all things are not expedient; all things are permissible for me but not all things are edifying. Let no man seek his own good but the good of the other man." Both he and Epicurus conceive of advantage or expediency as being a reciprocal thing, the parties to the action being mutually benefited.

It will consequently be justifiable, when Paul writes "think on these things," to infer that his meaning is definite and specific, that he is encouraging his readers to make a practice of striking a balance between the advantages, for example, of speaking charitably of others and the disadvantages of speaking maliciously, or between the advantages of showing one's self friendly and the disadvantages of discourtesy and surliness.

We should next observe that this technique of meditation, measuring the gains of virtue against the costs of vice, conduces to peace of mind in the individual and peace in the community. This boon of peace in both its aspects was a chief objective of Epicurus no less than of Paul; but Paul cannot afford to appear to be in debt to philosophy, much less to Epicurus. He consequently ignores his predecessor even while building upon the foundation he had laid and concludes with the words, "and the God of peace will be with you."

The philosophy of peace is in process of being replaced by the religion of peace.

There is a definite irony in the fact that Paul should have hurled at the Epicureans the taunt of making a god of the belly and then wind up his letter with the topic of self-control in matters of eating, revealing that his teaching is up to a certain point identical with that of Epicurus. The words in which he sums up his doctrine, "in whatsoever state I am, therewith to be content," hold equally valid as summing up the creed of his competitor.

The King James Version, however, was "appointed to be read in churches" and the instructions of the translators were to produce a book of devotion, in which they succeeded magnificently. For this use their version is irreplaceable but for the purpose of study a more precise rendering is needed. To attain this end it becomes consequently necessary to sacrifice the euphony for the sake of the precision which was previously sacrificed for the sake of the euphony.

The topic of self-control in eating and drinking was a hackneyed one and the key word in the discussions was autarkes, here translated as "content," though "self-sufficient" would be more exact. It is used by many philosophers, Epicurus not excepted, but in the New Testament only by Paul. A quick glance at the history of the idea will be in order. To Diogenes the Cynic self-sufficiency signified independence of all the amenities of life, including food, clothing, and shelter, and he chose to sleep in an overturned wine cask, as if in a kennel. Against this beastliness the gentlemanly Epicurus rebelled with vigor and he defined the word anew to mean independence of all changes of fortune, such as from riches to poverty or freedom to slavery, along with the compulsions and privations that attend them.

Even in a brief statement of his teaching may be discerned the repudiation of Diogenes: "And self-sufficiency we believe to be a great good, not that we may live on little under all circumstances, but that we may be content with little when we do not have much."

With this judgment Paul was in total accord. He saw no intrinsic merit in stinting one's self systematically nor any demerit in eating heartily when plenty was available. The merit consisted in being prepared to adapt one's self to circumstances. Neither did this readiness to adapt one's self, either in his case or in that of Epicurus, mean resigning one's self. In either event, plenty or want, the man was equally master of himself, always under self-control. Paul knows the regular Greek term for self-control, and uses it once, Galatians 5: 2 3; it denotes a "fruit of the Spirit." It is not found in the Gospels.

The question of riches and contentment is briefly discussed by Paul in First Timothy 6:6-10, where a knowledge of Epicureanism will clarify the meaning and improve the translation, which in the Revised Standard is somewhat obscure and ambiguous, as in verse 6: "There is great gain in godliness with contentment." Paul is not intending us to believe that contentment results in a "gain in godliness." The clue to the meaning is to be found in a famous saying of Epicurus, excerpted from a letter to a patron who was financing the studies of a lad Pythocles: "If you wish to make Pythocles really rich, do not add to the money, but subtract from his desires."

This is a paradox and we must concentrate sharply to grasp it. Another saying of Epicurus will help: "Nothing is enough for a man for whom enough is too little." In other words, the adequacy of income varies with the desires; as the desires diminish the income may be said to increase.

We must now concentrate again to read this meaning into Paul's words. He first speaks of evil men who "think godliness a means of increasing their income." To this he retorts: "Godliness joined with self-sufficiency means an amazing increase of income." Instead of "self-sufficiency" translators have accustomed us to read "contentment" and to this there is no objection as long as we understand it to mean "contentment with little," concerning which Cicero informs us that "no one had more to say than Epicurus."

This is one of several instances where a passage much preferred as a devotional reading is Epicurean in both subject and sentiment. The Greek term for "self-sufficiency" or "contentment with little" occurs only here in the New Testament.

With all these facts kept well in mind and the willingness to sacrifice the euphonious liberties of the King James Version for the sake of precision, verses 11-12 may be rendered as follows: "Not that I speak of not having enough, for I have learned to content myself with the conditions in which I find myself; I know how to humble myself and I know how to restrain myself when there is more than enough; under any and all conditions I understand how to eat my fill and how to endure hunger, and likewise how to act when there is more than enough and how to content myself when there is less than enough."

Beyond this point Paul is no longer in accord with Epicurus and, as usual, the necessity of their parting can be traced to the motivation. Epicurus was perpetuating the time-honored assumption of the rational Greeks that virtue is knowledge, though he invokes his own version of this principle, that is, the calculus of advantage. He carefully lists the advantages that accrue to the side of moderation and these may be quoted in summary: "It is conducive to health; it enables the individual to face unflinchingly the vicissitudes of life; it disposes men to exercise better judgment when rich foods become available after intervals of scarcity; lastly, it renders men dauntless in the face of Fortune."

In this seemingly unimpeachable pronouncement the lurking fallacy in Paul's judgment is the assumption that right reason is a guarantee of right action. What the system lacks is the dynamic element, some power to ensure that the individual will possess the resolution to do what reason has judged to be advantageous. This tacit criticism is contained in verse 13: "I can do all things in him who strengthens me."

It may be questioned, however, whether this translation is the best possible. If allowance be made for Greek idiom a new version may be ventured for the sake of locating the emphasis where it is needed: "There is nothing I lack the power to do through him who puts his strength into me."

If now a moment may be spared for a rapid survey, we shall have discovered Paul to be reasoning at times after the fashion of Epicurus; we shall have observed the employment of certain words that are peculiar to the vocabularies of Epicurus and Paul; we shall have found several topics to have been illuminated for us by citation of the teachings of Epicurus; and in particular, we shall have found the euphonious verse beginning "whatsoever things are true" to be completely redeemed from its present vagueness by knowledge of Epicurean precepts.

One item of information may also be mentioned for future reflection: Paul seems to display far too much affinity with the cheerful and friendly Epicureans to have ever been enamored of the censorious Stoics, who revered as their founder "the sour and scowling Zeno."

III
 
THESSALONIANS
Peace and Safety

WHILE the chief topic of this Epistle will be Peace and Safety we shall learn something worth while about Paul by calling Epicurus to testify concerning the question of honesty, which arises in First Thessalonians 2:1-8.

In the Revised Standard it is made to begin: "For you yourselves know, brethren, that our visit to you was not in vain." We believe this to be wrong and that this error has beclouded the interpretation and translation of the whole paragraph, which consequently calls for fresh scrutiny. We believe the true meaning to be, "our visit to you was not a sham" or a "pretense." Paul will be found to be defending himself against the charge of duplicity, as he also does elsewhere.

The clue to a correct interpretation, as often happens, may be found in a word that Paul shares with Epicurus. It is the verb parresiazomai (2:2), which in the New Testament occurs only in Acts and in two Pauline Epistles. In the Revised Standard it is rendered "we had courage" and in the best New Testament lexicon it is defined "to speak freely or boldly, be bold in speech." This definition is not incorrect for classical Greek but in the philosophy of Epicurus the word was slightly deflected to signify "speak with absolute frankness or truthfulness."

Absolute veracity was a fetish with Epicurus and, as usual, it was part of his structure of thought. His teachings were later amplified by the Epicurean Philodemus of Gadara under the title On Frankness, a work still extant in extensive fragments. From these may be gleaned much information on the topic of admonition, of which the Epicureans preceded Paul in making a specialty. It is likely that Paul knew the treatise at first hand.  Even the teaching of Epicurus himself can be documented to a certain extent and it possesses intrinsic value, quite apart from the help it affords in arriving at Paul's meaning.

As elsewhere mentioned in this study, Epicurus rejected the Platonic reason as the norm of truth and exalted Nature in its stead. Nature, he insisted, was honest herself and demanded honesty of her devotees. To be dishonest or untruthful was deemed unworthy of a student of natural phenomena; for a scientist to lie about his observations would be a sort of treason. This is implied in a saying of his: "As for me, I should prefer to speak with absolute honesty, as befits the study of nature, and utter oracular sayings beneficial to all men, even if not a soul shall understand me, rather than, by falling into line with popular opinions, to reap the lush praise that falls from the favor of the multitude."

With this contempt of popular favor Paul could fully concur and he reveals his feeling in this very paragraph, verse 6: "nor did we seek glory from men, either from you or from others."

In another saying Epicurus writes: "I was never ambitious to please the multitude." In this same paragraph Paul writes, verse 4: "so we speak, not to please men," though he makes the customary change of motivation, "but to please God, who scrutinizes our hearts." This is characteristic of Paul's use of sentiments taken from Epicurus: he changes the motivation; in this instance he substitutes loyalty to God for loyalty to Nature, whom Epicurus the scientist revered as the supreme teacher.

Still other echoes of Epicurus may be delved out of this engaging paragraph, which amply deserves to be redeemed from its present obscurity. However surprising it may seem to be, this man Epicurus, who was reputed to be an enemy of religion, shared with Jesus a reverence for little children. He did not, it is true, believe them to be born sinless, because the word sin was not in his vocabulary, but he did believe them to be born honest and sincere, though often defiled later by education. For example, if children should have been given such an education as to lead them to suppose that happiness was to be derived from wealth or fame, they would have been defiled. They would have erred from the truth and become unclean.

The knowledge of this teaching will now enable us to apprehend the exact significance of verse 3 of our paragraph, which is decidedly vague in the Revised Standard: "For our appeal does not spring from error or uncleanness." At a slight sacrifice of brevity this may be rendered precise by reading: "For our appeal does not have its origin in an aberration from honesty or from impure motives."

If Paul had either sought favor by flattery or been possessed of a desire for gain which he sought to conceal, his motives would have been impure according to Epicurus, nor would he have been following the straight path of honesty. It is against these very imputations that Paul defends himself, in verse 5: "For never did we use either words of flattery, as you know, or a cloak for gain."

Epicurus the helper may be invoked to assist in correcting still another error in this darkened paragraph, verse 7, which in the Revised Standard reads in part: "But we were gentle among you, like a nurse taking care of her children." It is the word gentle that strikes a false note: the word babes has been used in its stead and is closer to the Greek. The key to the true meaning may be found in two items of Epicurean teaching: first, that children are honest unless spoiled, as already mentioned; and second, that the good teacher or nurse will also be honest, that is, actuated solely by the good of the child. Hence the meaning must be: "But we came among you guileless as a child, just as a nurse is guileless in caring for the children given to her charge." The correctness of this is confirmed in verse 11, "like a father with his children," the good father being free from self-interest and actuated solely by the good of the children.

The pagan Epicurus, though a convinced celibate like Paul, displayed a keen discernment in matters of family life. The two men, in spite of the chasm that separated the logic of the atom from the logic of the cross, thought remarkably alike on domestic matters.

Before assembling the corrections already made it remains to make a minor improvement in verses 6-7, which in the Revised Standard read in part as follows: "nor did we seek glory from men, neither from you nor from others, though we might have made demands as apostles of Christ." It is this last clause that falls short of being precise.

The key word of the Greek text is associated with vainglorious kings who pitch their voices low to impress their subjects and with pretentious actors who do the same in performing kingly roles. Epicurus used to twit the Platonists with putting on similar airs; in point of fact they bore the reputation of being the highsteppers among the philosophers. The last clause in the sentence above may consequently be rendered: "though we might have assumed the grand manner as apostles of Christ." Paul means to say that he might well have made a bid for glory.

It remains now to readjust our understanding of the whole paragraph in the light of these findings. Paul is manifestly defending himself against the charge of having been animated by self-interest. It is for this reason that the words "our visit was not in vain" must be changed to read "our visit was not a sham."

It is equally necessary to emend the words that follow: "we had courage in our God to declare to you the gospel." To mention courage is tempting in English but the Greeks did not call moral courage by the same name as physical courage. The question here is rather one of honesty or dishonesty, sincerity or pretense. The manhandling suffered by Paul at Philippi might have been thought to tempt him to appease the Thessalonicans by flattery; it might, he hints, have deflected him from that absolute honesty, which he, like Epicurus before him, esteemed to be of paramount consequence. What he writes may therefore be rendered more precisely: "but notwithstanding the fact that in Philippi we had been assaulted and subjected to shameful indignities, as you well know, still, with the help of our God, we spoke the absolute truth in declaring to you the gospel of God under great stress."

Among the numerous clues that serve to identify references to the Epicureans none is more specific and certain than the mention of their watchwords Peace and Safety. These occur in First Thessalonians 5:3, where the King James Version runs: "For when they shall say, Peace and Safety, then sudden destruction cometh upon them." This falls far short of exactitude but it is superior to the Revised Standard: "When people say, 'There is peace and security,' then sudden destruction will come upon them."

The unlucky change from "when they shall say" to "when people say" is based upon the gratuitous assumption that no particular group or sect is being singled out for censure but merely some section of the populace that refuses to be alarmed by the prediction of the second coming and the destruction of unbelievers. The perplexity of translators is due to the fact that catchwords of unmistakable reference in Paul's time have lost their significance through the lapse of the centuries.

No person of ordinary intelligence at the date when the letter was written would have been ignorant that peace and safety were objectives of the Epicurean way of life. Recognition of this fact will enable us to correct the translation. To this end it must be remembered that the second coming and the destruction of unbelievers are events in the future but the threat is present and perpetual. With this knowledge kept well in mind we shall be able to set the tenses to rights: "At the very moment that they are saying 'peace and safety' sudden destruction is hanging over them."

When once this identification of the Epicureans has been made, confirmation will be the more certain in the seemingly innocent words (4:3), "the others who have no hope." This signifies no hope of benefiting by the grace of God and the Epicureans were so characterized even outside of the New Testament by their rivals the Stoics, because they denied divine providence.

Additional confirmation of a new and oblique sort will be found in the Second Epistle, 2:1-12, where the coming of Antichrist is predicted