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Does law bring virtue? Seneca and Paul on law, virtue and Christ

Published online by Cambridge University Press:  17 November 2025

M. Samuel Adkins Open the ORCID record for M. Samuel Adkins [Opens in a new window]
M. Samuel Adkins*
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Abstract

This article examines Paul’s view of the law with attention to the figure of the pedagogue. It suggests that the law stands in a redemptive-historical role to the coming of Christ. It accomplishes this through a comparison between Seneca’s Moral Epistles and Paul. Seneca’s discussion is a helpful heuristic to elucidate Paul’s teaching on Jewish law. Paul highly values the Jewish law and explains that it leads humans to Christ as a pedagogue, although the law itself does not have the power to make righteous. Scholars offer arguments in support of positive or negative attitudes toward the pedagogue, but the pedagogue’s basic role was to bring a child to the age of maturity and rationality. Paul’s thesis is to argue that the Jewish law functions, historically and ethically, to lead one to Christ. This interpretation suggests that the law plays a positive redemptive-historical role in Galatians 3:19–4:11.

Keywords

ChristlawpedagogueSenecaStoicismvirtue

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Scottish Journal of Theology , First View , pp. 1 - 12
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A perennial issue in Pauline theology is the continuity and discontinuity in Paul’s thought between the Jewish law and Christ (i.e., salvation history). Debates are seen between those associated with the apocalyptic school (e.g. J. Louis Martyn, Douglas Campbell, Beverly Gaventa, Ernst Käsemann) and the salvation-historical school (e.g., NT Wright).Footnote 1 These discussions often revolve around the relationship between Christ and the law, especially the role that the law had until Christ. The apocalyptic school argues for a sharp disjunction between the two realms of the promise of Abraham and the law of Moses. For example, in his exegesis of Galatians 3:19–20, Martyn comments,

We can see, then, that the Law and its curse constitute an angelic parenthesis lodged between and differentiated from two punctiliar acts of God himself, the uttering of the promise to Abraham and to Abraham’s singular seed, and the sending of that seed, Christ. This again indicates that the Law does not stand in a redemptive-historical line between the promise and the coming of the seed. Precisely the opposite.Footnote 2

Martyn’s interpretation of Paul and the Law posits a sharp disjunction between the time of Christ and the law, which becomes a central motif in the apocalyptic school. This article argues that Paul’s attitude toward the relationship between the Jewish law and Christ is elucidated through the figure of the pedagogue and Stoic ethics.Footnote 3 It undertakes a comparison with Seneca, a contemporary of Paul, and how Seneca views the praecepta (precepts) in relation to virtue. It explains the Stoic value system, then examines how Seneca appropriates ‘laws’ or ‘rules’ in relation to virtue. Finally, the primary concern will be an exegesis of Galatians 3:19–4:3, in which I suggest that the text describes the Jewish nomos as leading/pointing to Christ, so that the law plays a part in the coming of the Messiah and God’s promise to Abraham. The narrative of the law does not run beside the narrative of the promise to oppose it, as Martyn’s comment suggest, but is actually a part of the messianic narrative.

The Stoic value system

Zeno and the Stoics defined virtue as ‘life in agreement with nature’.Footnote 4 The sage traditionally was characterised by four primary virtues (πρώται ἀρετῶν).Footnote 5 The Stoics believed the only thing that should be chosen by the sage is virtue. In Hellenistic ethics, this is usually referred to as τὸ ἀγαθόν – ‘the Good’ – which ought to be chosen because it alone contributes to eudaimonia (‘happiness’). This is to be distinguished from things that are ἀδιάφορα. Cicero defines ‘the Good’ and explains that it cannot be compared to other things because it has a different kind of value,

the Good is recognized and pronounced of degree to be good from its own inherent properties and not by comparison with other things… so this Good which we are discussing is indeed superlatively valuable, yet its value depends on kind not on quantity. Value (aestimatio), in Greek ἀξία, is not counted as a good nor yet as an evil; so that however much you increase it in amount, it will still remain the same in kind. The value of Virtue is therefore peculiar and distinct; it depends on kind and not on degree.Footnote 6

In another place, he says that virtue must be established as the only good.Footnote 7 If virtue is not the only good, then ‘the annihilation of the virtues is the consequence’.Footnote 8 The Stoics differed from other Hellenistic schools in arguing that traditional ‘goods’ (health, wealth, etc.) did not contribute to eudaimonia. Other schools claimed that conventional goods did.Footnote 9 Only virtue contributed to eudaimonia for the Stoics, for whom conventional goods are like the light of a lamp that is eclipsed and overpowered by the rays of the sun, a drop of honey that is lost in the vastness of the Aegean Sea, or ‘a single step in the journey from here to India’.Footnote 10 This Stoic view of conventional goods in relation to virtue will be particularly important when we consider Paul.

The Stoics had a further class of good that they termed the ἀδιάφορα.Footnote 11 The ἀδιάφορα constitutes what is neutral or ‘indifferent’, that is, neither good nor evil. Although ἀδιάφορα contribute nothing to virtue, the Stoics admit that these things could stir the impulses or bring aversion.Footnote 12 Therefore, the Stoics argue that at the most important level (i.e., that of first order value) virtue and what contributes to virtue are all that matters. This does not exempt the sage from caring about their life at another level though (i.e., second-order value), which is where the ‘preferred’ and the ‘dispreferred’ ἀδιάφορα factor into moral decisions. For instance, if the sage gets a promotion at work, they gladly accept it, but if their new promotion means that they must exercise deception and vice for personal and corporate wealth, then the sage would rather choose poverty, justice and virtue. This discussion of the Stoic value system informs the way Seneca understands ‘laws’ and virtue, and it will guide in exploring the value that Pauline texts assign to the Jewish law and Christ in Galatians.Footnote 13

Seneca on praecepta and virtue

With this basic sketch of the Stoic value system in place, I would now like to explore how ‘law’ or ‘rules’ or ‘precepts’ factor into Stoic virtue by examining how Seneca reconciles the relationship between law and virtue. What role, if any, does law or rules or precepts play in moral formation? We could ask this question more precisely: do they contribute to the τέλος or virtue of the person? Seneca’s Epistulae Morales 94 and 95 deal with how a Stoic answers this question.Footnote 14 In these epistles, Seneca answers two primary questions (94.4): first, Are precepts superfluous? Do they have any purpose? and, second, Can precepts produce a good man? I consider these in turn.

Concerning the first question, Ariston objects that precepts (praecepta) are ‘an object that is held in front of the eyes’ that ‘interferes with the eyes, [and] it must be removed’ (94.5). Most of his objections target the superfluity of precepts. Thus, he argues, ‘What good can I obtain from such precepts, which only teach one who is already trained? To one who knows, it is superfluous to give precepts; to one who does not know, it is insufficient’ (94.11; cf. 94.14–15). Precepts cannot be given to all different types of people in various situations and circumstances (94.12–16). Ariston, therefore, says that the idea of precepts should be taken away ‘because it cannot afford to all what it promises only to a few’ (94.16). For Ariston, precepts are in contradiction to virtue and the discipline of philosophy. He believes that wisdom is sufficient for all, and precepts are not needed (94.16).

Seneca sharply disagreed with Ariston. He argues that precepts were a guide to virtue, even though they did not contribute to it (94.18–22). Precepts function similarly to the eye doctor and his advice: the physician accomplishes the cure with eye treatment but still gives advice.Footnote 15 Seneca says that the advice performs (proficio) the cure no less than the remedies (medicamenta) themselves. Similarly, the mind (animus) needs many precepts in order to see what it should do in life (94.19–20). Seneca, contra Ariston, believes that praecepta are still needed; they are not superfluous (94.21–22). Although vices have been removed, so that luxury is now confined, avarice is now slackened and laziness is pricked by the spur, ‘we must continue to learn what we ought to do, and how we ought to do it’ (94.23). He further describes that virtue is aroused (excito) by a touch (tacta) and a shock (inpulsa) (94.29).Footnote 16 He adds that ‘strength of the wit (ingenii vis) is nourished and kept growing by precepts; it adds new points of view to those which are inborn and corrects depraved ideas (depravata)’ (94.30). Later, Seneca explicitly says that precepts are not superfluous, because even though they are of a second-order value, they lead one to things that contribute to virtue, such as prudence and justice, which are a first-order value. Here again, the concern is with the relationship between virtue and the preferred ἀδιάφορα.Footnote 17 Seneca says, ‘Prudence and justice consist of certain duties; and duties are set in order by precepts. Moreover, judgment as to Good and Evil is itself strengthened by following up our duties, and precepts conduct us to this end’ (94.34).Footnote 18 Therefore, Seneca argues against those who say that laws or precepts are unnecessary. He understands them as guides to those things that really contribute to virtue. Laws per se are not virtuous, but Seneca would argue that the presence of law(s) suggests that there is such a thing as justice and virtue.Footnote 19

The next question Seneca answers in Epistula 95 is are praecepta alone sufficient for moral progress? Seneca answers,

Precepts by themselves are weak and, so to speak, rootless if they be assigned to the parts and not to the whole… There is the same difference between philosophical doctrines and precepts as there is between elements (elementa) and members (membra); the latter depend upon the former, while the former are the source both of the latter and of all things. (95.12)

Inwood explains that Seneca’s answer to the question ‘is based on the fact that right action (κατορθώματα) is needed if the moral life is to attain its goal, and that right actions do require a full grasp of the general moral principles which form the general theory’.Footnote 20 Therefore, Seneca thinks that precepts alone are insufficient for a moral life. Instead, one must focus on general moral principles, which shape their whole way of life and can be applied to every situation and circumstance. In contrast to the praecepta, Seneca later argues, ‘there should be deeply implanted a firm belief which will apply to life as a whole; this is what I call a ‘doctrine’ (decretum)’ (95.44). Here Seneca distinguishes doctrines (decreta) from praecepta.Footnote 21 It is from the decreta that one must derive their conduct. It is through this principle that ‘We must set before our eyes the goal of the Supreme Good, towards which we may strive, and to which all our acts and words may have reference—just as sailors must guide their course according to a certain star’ (95.45). Thus, humans can reach the supreme good, if their whole way of life is established on a general theory of principles. Seneca’s description of the decreta is very similar to his understanding of the lex naturae.Footnote 22 His final answer to the question pursued here is that the praecepta are ineffectual unless they flow out from the general theory of moral principles, which consists in the decreta.Footnote 23 Precepts point to the decreta, but precepts cannot make one virtuous.

The law and the function of the pedagogue in Galatians 3:19–25

The Stoic relationship between law(s) and virtue has been articulated: that is, the Stoics claim there are conventional goods (health, wealth, status, etc.), but only one true Good (i.e. ‘Virtue’ itself). Conventional goods are ἀδιάφορα (neutrals/indifferents) and contribute absolutely nothing to the final telos, the Good (virtue). In this respect, the value of virtue is on an altogether different plane than the ἀδιάφορα.Footnote 24

The article now probes into how Paul understands the relationship between the Jewish law and Christ. The difficult text Galatians 3:19–4:3 is chosen to explain this relationship. Up to this point in Galatians, there seems to be a dual problem between the Abrahamic promise and Torah: 1) Torah/the law does not give the blessing to the Gentiles and 2) Torah/the law does not bring the new covenant to Israel. Further, the law could give neither life (v. 21) nor the Spirit; rather, the inheritance came through the promise (v. 18). The promise is given through Christ (v. 15–18), and the seed (i.e., Christ) solves this dual problem by accomplishing both the blessing for the Gentiles and the new covenant for Israel.Footnote 25 This makes it seem like the law is opposed to the Messiah. If one applies the Stoic value system to this text, the Jewish law does not effect salvation, because only Christ (i.e., virtue) does so. If this is so, then why does God give the law in the first place? In other words, did God give the law in vain? This has been the upshot of Paul’s argument up to Galatians 3:19.

Verse 19 begins ‘Why then the Law?’ The question here is very similar to Seneca’s, ‘Are the praecepta superfluous?’, and Paul, like Seneca, answers that the law is not superfluous. There is a purpose for it: τῶν παραβάσεων χάριν προσετέθη. This phrase could be understood in at least four ways.Footnote 26 How one interprets it ought to be influenced by the interpretation of what follows in Galatians 3:23–25, since those verses further explain what Paul means in v.v 19–22. The preposition χάριν is most likely telic, indicating a goal.Footnote 27 The law defines and brings knowledge of sin in hopes to limit or restrain sin. This is simply how a law functions. It condemns and limits sin out of fear for the law. One may also say it brings the category of ‘transgression’ by explicating sin. A law does not take into consideration the agency of the one hearing it. A paraphrase would be, ‘the law was added to make sin become a transgression’ (cf. Rom. 4:15). Now, this is not the only thing that the law does, because Paul’s discussion centers upon the coming of the seed (vv. 15–19; called πίστις in vv. 22–25) and its consequences (‘inheritance’, vv. 18, 25–29), but it is suggested that Paul explains the essential function of the law in vv. 23–25.

Below I argue that the essential function of the law, seen in the figure of the pedagogue, is to lead Paul’s audience to Christ/virtue.Footnote 28 This colours what Paul says in the verses leading up to vv. 23–25. His interlocutors object, ‘Is the law then opposed to the promises of God?’ (v. 21). The objection is similar to the objections against precepts that we saw in Seneca, one of whose interlocutors may likewise ask, ‘Are precepts (i.e. law) opposed to virtue?’ Both thinkers would answer, ‘By no means!’ The law is not opposed to the promises of God or to virtue because the law is good and useful at the intermediate level. Although the law never gives life, it is a ‘preferred indifferent’. This statement, mutatis mutandis, is true of both Paul and Seneca’s reasoning. Both would say that only Christ or virtue gives ‘life’ (v. 21). Yes, the law reveals wrongs and demands punishment, but it directs to something more valuable than itself. Seneca would say that precepts direct one to virtue; Paul similarly thinks that Jewish law directs Jews and Gentiles to Christ, as seen in Galatians 3:23–25.

Many scholars interpret the εἰς in vv. 23–24 in a strictly temporal sense because of μέλλω in v. 23 and οὐκέτι in v. 25.Footnote 29 The problem with this interpretation, however, is that the collocation συγκλείω εἰς does not reflect temporality.Footnote 30 It often occurs in historical narratives about war and sieges, with most instances used in the literal sense of being enclosed/shut up within a city or the walls of a city.Footnote 31 Occasionally, a metaphorical sense is employed, as Paul does here. For example, Polybius says, ‘As for Philip, after they had crushed him in war and shut him up as a hostage and for tribute (συγκλείσαντες εἰς ὅμηρα καὶ φόρους).’Footnote 32 Two further parallels from the Septuagint illustrate this metaphorical usage: Psalm 77:50 LXX says, ‘he shut up their cattle for death (τὰ κτήνη αὐτῶν εἰς θάνατον συνέκλεισεν)’; and Psalm 77:62 LXX reads, ‘he shut up his people for the sword (συνέκλεισεν εἰς ῥομφαίαν τὸν λαὸν αὐτοῦ)’. In each of these instances, the εἰς is used to describe purpose, what the object is being ‘shut into’ or ‘shut up’ for. Συγκλείω therefore should not be understood as envisioning the figure of the pedagogue as an ‘imprisoning warden’. The word does not imply such a strong sense here. The best way to understand v. 23 is that Paul’s audience is shut up under the law for the purpose that the faith, which was destined, should be revealed.Footnote 33 Translating Paul’s point into a more philosophical idiom, one could understand him to mean that law confines in order to reveal virtue. In Paul’s case, though, virtue would be parallel to Christ (i.e. salvation). In short, when Paul says that the law is our pedagogue εἰς χριστόν (v. 24), he means that it is pedagogical.

Scholars have expressed positive and negative judgments on the role of the pedagogue,Footnote 34 and these variations have affected commentators’ theology of the relationship between Christ and the law.Footnote 35 The problem has its roots in the fact that in the primary sources, it is possible to find both positive and negative attitudes toward the pedagogue to support theological conclusions vis-à-vis Paul’s attitude toward the law. Most likely, however, Paul is not ultimately concerned with either positive or negative attitudes toward the pedagogue.Footnote 36 Paul’s metaphor of the pedagogue is quite basic. His point is simply that the pedagogue led the child to an age of rational maturity – and that is all Paul means to say in using the metaphor.Footnote 37 In other words, his aim is to outline the function of the law in relation to Christ: specifically, the goal of the Jewish law is to direct persons to Christ (εἰς χριστόν) so that they may be τέλειοι ‘mature’ (cf. Phil. 3:15; Col. 1:28; 4:12; Eph. 4:13). The law is negative in the sense that it does not bring virtue and salvation, and that it reveals sin. But the positive side of the law is that it points to salvation and virtue.Footnote 38 This is in harmony with Seneca’s view on the precepts. Praecepta are prescribed a specific positive function with respect to virtue although they do not themselves make virtuous, which would be the negative function of praecepta in Seneca. When one is wise/virtuous or participates in Christ, they no longer properly need the law, but this is not to express a negative attitude toward the law. It is only to say that the law shows wrongs and that it leads to the telos of life, virtue, or Christ (i.e., salvation).Footnote 39

More evidence as to why Paul’s image of the pedagogue is appropriately brought into conversation with Seneca’s rebuttal to Ariston’s view on law/precepts is that elsewhere Seneca himself in his response to Ariston on the praecepta and the role of a pedagogue makes the same sort of connection that Paul does. Seneca says, ‘Ariston of Chios held that physics and logic not only are superfluous but actually get in the way [of virtue]. He also eliminated the topic of advice-giving, saying that it was a job for one’s tutor (paedagogus), not for a philosopher – as though a wise person is anything other than a tutor (paedagogus) for the human race.’Footnote 40 If one permits the comparison with Paul in Galatians 3, the Stoic sage and the Mosaic law have parallel functions in their respective systems: that of leading one to virtue/Christ. This image of the pedagogue seems to be contrary to the image depicted by apocalyptic interpreters. Rather than creating a sharp disjunction between Christ and the law, the law complements the coming of Christ and, thus, plays a salvation-historical role in Galatians.

Therefore, Paul may think that a book like Genesis, which often speaks of the ‘seed’ (cf. Gen. 3:15, 9:9, 15:5, 17:7–9, 48:4, 19 LXX), would lead his audience to Christ, whom Paul equates with the ‘seed’ (Gal. 3:16, 19). In Genesis, God continually reaffirms his covenant for the sake of the ‘seed’. The Mosaic law and the ‘seed’ are both part of Torah, and so reading Torah might cause one to recognise the theme of the seed as a part of and complementary to the law.Footnote 41 The Mosaic law would conduct one to the seed/Christ (i.e. salvation) through revealing their transgressions.Footnote 42 A Gentile audience is not exempt from such arguments. The pronouns, which are ambiguous throughout this passage,Footnote 43 cause the Gentile audience to participate in the Jewish narrative from Genesis unto Paul’s day, so that they too may be conducted to the Jewish Messiah. The narrative of the Messiah that Paul relates in these verses is linked to the witness of the Old Testament.Footnote 44 The hermeneutical moves that Paul makes are similar to the way in which Seneca understands the relationship between precepts and virtue. Seneca believes that precepts are not strictly needed for the virtuous person, but that does not mean they are negative or useless. They are useful at the level of an intermediary. In the Stoic system, they can be selected (ἐκλέγομαι) or deselected (ἀπεκλέγομαι), and it would not affect the virtuous person. Further, the precepts would lead one up to virtue even though the precepts themselves do not contribute to virtue. Only things, such as justice, prudence and good judgement, contribute to virtue. These are the decreta (‘principles’) in Seneca’s system.

Galatians 4:1-3: The law, immaturity and τὰ στοιχεῖα τοῦ κόσμου

In Galatians 4:1, Paul continues to explain his metaphor of immaturity that he has alluded to in 3:19–29. As mentioned above, looming large in the context has been the Abrahamic inheritance (cf. 3:15–18), which is salvation and participation in Christ. This is the Jewish background, but Paul synthesises the Abrahamic inheritance with the Roman system of inheritance (3:26–29; 4:1–7) by introducing the metaphor of a minor who is an heir of all things in vv. 1–3 to signify the one who does not yet participate in Christ. The minor is like the προκόπτων (‘advancer’ or ‘progressor’) in philosophy. He is not yet virtuous. He is not a wise man. Similar to the ‘we’ enslaved to the law in Galatians 3:24–25, the minors are enslaved under the τὰ στοιχεῖα τοῦ κόσμου. This phrase is admittedly difficult but should probably be understood as referring to elementary teaching.Footnote 45 Paul most likely argues that both Jews and Gentiles were enslaved under elementary teaching because it shut them out from participation in Christ. For Jews, that teaching would have been the law; for Gentiles, it could have been idolatry or philosophy. If the phrase is taken to refer to the elements of the world, then Paul could be critiquing the idea of the law of nature, which in Cicero’s system brings one to ratio/virtue.Footnote 46 Any of these options would support the interpretation here because Paul’s whole point is that these factors are other than Christ and, therefore, do not in themselves effect salvation, because Christ is the only thing that effects salvation for Paul. Similarly, the Stoics could say that anyone who is not yet wise is enslaved under the precepts at an intermediate level because wealth, health, strength, power, lust/pleasure, and so on do not produce virtue and only what produces virtue matters. In Galatians 3, Paul locates the Jewish law at the level of the intermediates and so to emphasise that it is categorically different from the first-order value of Christ. Seneca had first asked about the purpose of precepts and then whether they can make a person wise. Similarly, Paul first has asked ‘what is the purpose of the law’ (Gal. 3:19) and then discusses whether the law and τὰ στοιχεῖα τοῦ κοσμοῦ can save (Gal. 4:1–11).

In Galatians, Paul seems to have understood that the law is continuous and discontinuous with the present age of Christ.Footnote 47 Historically, the law is continuous with the Christ-event because it is part of God’s promise to Abraham and ongoing revelation through the covenants, and the continuity ideally leads one to understand the coming of the Messiah (i.e. the Christ-event). But there is discontinuity in that once the messiah comes, there is no further need to be under the law. Similarly, the law ethically leads one to virtue (i.e. Christ), so that there is continuity in that law leads people to virtuous conduct and to possess virtue. The law can reveal right and wrong and can even remind the virtuous and righteous of virtue and δικαιοσύνη, but it cannot empower people to internalise virtue. But there is also discontinuity on the ethical level, in that the unrighteous or unvirtuous can observe a given law or commandment and yet not possess virtue, or δικαιοσύνη. In Seneca’s letters, laws/praecepta have these same characteristics of continuity and discontinuity with virtue/decreta and thus offer a helpful heuristic for interpreting Paul on the law. The interpretation offered here attempts to intertwine the historical and the ethical in Paul to make sense of both, as well as to explain the difficulties of continuity and discontinuity.Footnote 48

Conclusion

New Testament scholarship has often emphasised the ‘purity’ of Judaism in the first century, in the sense of arguing that Hellenism had relatively little cultural influence on New Testament Jewish writers. This article attempts a comparison between Paul and Stoic ethics to push against this emphasis, challenging the ideas 1) that Judaism in the first century was ‘unique’ and 2) that readers of Paul in subsequent centuries ‘corrupted’ the authentic Paul with their use of pagan philosophy. In short, the upshot of this article is that Paul and ancient philosophy should be brought into conversation to offset this long strand of historiographical analysis in New Testament scholarship.

The intention here is not to make genealogical claims. Paul is not a Stoic.Footnote 49 The larger question has been: how do law and Christ/virtue function in the perspectives of Paul on the one hand, and Seneca’s Stoicism on the other? How does each writer reason within his given framework and ascribe value to the matters about which he speaks? The intention has been to compare the interpretative moves each make based on the ascribed value of law and Christ/virtue, on the grounds that it is heuristically beneficial to look at Paul’s formulation of Jewish law through the lens of the Stoic value system. It was fruitful to first examine the Stoic value system and the way in which Seneca understands the relationship between praecepta (viz., rules or laws) and Stoic virtue. Seneca teaches that ‘laws’ are not superfluous, but rather are valuable insofar as they can lead one to virtue, although virtue has a different kind of value, a better and higher one, than that attributed to the praecepta. Observation of the praecepta does not mean one possesses virtue. This teaching on praecepta simultaneously posits both continuity and discontinuity between law and virtue: there is continuity in that the purpose of law is meant to bring about righteous behaviour, but discontinuity in that once a person has reached a virtuous or righteous state, their behaviour does not look to laws and commands. They simply behave virtuously because they are so.Footnote 50

Paul makes a similar move in Galatians 3:19–4:11. In 3.19–25, he says that the law is the pedagogue to Christ, both historically and ethically. It points to Christ (i.e. salvation), but the law per se cannot procure salvation and δικαιοσύνη (4.1–11).Footnote 51 Paul values the Jewish law because it has a certain function in relation to Christ and δικαιοσύνη, but he sees the value of Christ being on an altogether different plane. Nevertheless, the figure of the pedagogue presents us with the essential function of the law in Paul’s thought, and the central purpose of the Jewish law in Paul’s understanding is historically to prepare for the coming of the Messiah and ethically to lead one to Christ and δικαιοσύνη. This suggests, contra Martyn, that the Jewish law in Galatians stands in a positive redemptive-historical relation to Christ.

References

1 Ernst Käsemann, ‘Die Anfänge christlicher Theologie’, Zeitschrift für Theologie und Kirche 57/2 (1960), pp. 162–85. J. Louis Martyn, Theological Issues in the Letters of Paul (Nashville, TN: Abingdon Press, 1997). Douglas A. Campbell, The Deliverance of God: An Apocalyptic Rereading of Justification in Paul (Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans, 2009). Beverly Gaventa, Apocalyptic Paul: Cosmos and Anthropos in Romans 5-8 (Waco, TX: Baylor University Press, 2013). N. T. Wright, Paul and his Recent Interpreters (London: SPCK, 2015). Grant Macaskill attempts to bridge these schools through the category of ‘providence’ in ‘History, Providence and the Apocalyptic Paul’, Scottish Journal of Theology 70/4 (2017), pp. 409–26.

2 J. Louis Martyn, Galatians: A New Translation with Introduction and Commentary (New York: Doubleday, 1997), p. 342.

3 Comparisons between Paul and the Stoics has been fruitful in recent decades, especially after Troels Engberg-Pedersen, Paul and the Stoics (Edinburgh: T & T Clark, 2000). For a few studies on Stoic ethics and Paul’s view of the Law, see Niko Huttunen, ‘Stoic Law in Paul?’, in Tuomas Rasimus, Troels Engberg-Pedersen, and Ismo Dunderberg (eds.), Stoicism in Early Christianity (Peabody, MA: Hendrickson Publishers, 2010), pp. 39–58; Niko Huttunen, Paul and Epictetus on Law: A Comparison (London: T & T Clark, 2009); Annalisa Phillips Wilson, Paul and the Jewish Law: A Stoic Ethical Perspective on His Inconsistency (Boston: Brill, 2022). Neither Huttunen nor Philipps Wilson discuss Galatians 3 and the figure of the pedagogue in their work.

4 Diogenes Laertius [hereafter DL] 7.87.

5 DL 7.92. Wisdom (φρόνησις), courage (ἀνδρεία), justice (δικαιοσύνη), temperance (σωφροσύνη). Cf. Cicero, De Finibus 5.37.

6 Cicero, De Finibus 3.34. Unless otherwise noted translations are from the Loeb Classical Library (hereafter LCL) edition.

7 Ibid., 4.40.

8 Cicero, Tusculanae Disputationes, 5.52.

9 Phillips Wilson, Paul and the Jewish Law, p. 27.

10 Ibid.

11 DL 7.101, τῶν δ᾿ ὄντων φασὶ τὰ μὲν ἀγαθὰ εἶναι, τὰ δὲ κακά, τὰ δ᾿ οὐδέτερα.

12 DL 7.104–105. τὰ μήθ᾿ ὁρμῆς μήτ᾿ ἀφορμῆς κινητικά. Cf. Cicero, De Finibus 3.50; and Katja Maria Vogt, ‘The Stoics on Virtue and Happiness’, in Christopher Bobonich (ed.), The Cambridge Companion to Ancient Ethics (Cambridge: CUP, 2017), p. 193.

13 In Paul and the Jewish Law Annalisa Phillips Wilson helpfully applies the Stoic value system to Pauline texts. She examines in depth Philippians 3:1–4.1, Galatians 2:1–21 and 1 Corinthians 8:1–11:1. I consider her lens, which views Paul and the law through the Stoic value system, particularly helpful. It avoids the pitfalls of traditional readings and the shortcomings of the Paul within Judaism school.

14 See Brad Inwood, Reading Seneca: Stoic Philosophy at Rome (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 2005), pp. 95–131.

15 ‘There is no reason why you should at once expose your weak vision to a dangerous glare; begin with darkness, and then go into half-lights, and finally be more bold, accustoming yourself gradually to the bright light of day…’ (94.20).

16 The antecedent of touch and shock seems to be admonitio. This word, which the LCL translator Richard Gummere translates as ‘advice’, is a synonym for the praecepta. Therefore, the point appears to be that admonitio and praecepta arouse virtue. We should allow lexical variety for the sake of style (cf. Epistula 114).

17 The Stoic distinction between καθήκοντα ‘appropriate actions’ and κατορθώματα ‘morally right actions’ should be noted. The καθήκοντα are incomplete actions. They are not done virtuously and are classified as intermediates. However, the κατορθώματα are complete and virtuous actions. Thus, the καθήκοντα can 1) be done in an intermediate sense, 2) be neglected or 3) be completed/perfected through the κατορθώματα. The κατορθώματα would then make the καθήκοντα a virtuous action; see Phillips Wilson, Paul and the Jewish Law, p. 43. ‘The all-important factor determining the “rightness” of any action is the disposition of the person acting, which is why the set lists of intermediates and prescriptives or commands could be only provisional’ (Annalisa Phillips Wilson, ‘“One Thing”: Stoic Discourse and Paul’s Reevaluation of His Jewish Credentials in Phil. 3.1–21’, Journal for the Study of the New Testament [2023], p. 389). This explains how obedience to a law or a preferred ἀδιάφορα can be merely an appropriate action at an intermediate level, or it can be a virtuous action, contributing to the good. It depends on whether the actor is wise or not. It is important to notice from this that appropriate actions could be abandoned, and this would not affect the virtue of the person. See Brad Inwood, ‘Goal and Target in Stoicism’, The Journal of Philosophy 83/10 (1986), pp. 547–56.

18 Et prudentia et iustitia officiis constat, officia praeceptis disponuntur. Praeterea ipsum de malis bonisque iudicium confirmatur officiorum exsecutione, ad quam praecepta perducunt.

19 So, Inwood: ‘Though praecepta themselves do not prove anything and do not demonstrate the goodness of a particular course of action, they still aid the agent in deciding what to do’ (Inwood, ‘Rules and Reasoning in Stoic Ethics’, p. 118). Seneca also mentions that praecepta refresh our memory (94.21) and point out the obvious which our minds often want to suppress (94.25).

20 Inwood, ‘Rules and Reasoning in Stoic Ethics’, p. 119.

21 Seneca defines what a decretum is at 95.10. He says it translates the Greek work δογμάτα, but the Romans use the words ‘doctrines’ (decreta), ‘tenets’ (scita) or ‘adopted principles’ (placita) to refer to this.

22 Inwood, ‘Rules and Reasoning in Stoic Ethics’, pp. 122–3.

23 Ibid., p. 116.

24 As the Cicero quote above expresses. For more details on the Stoic value system, cf. Phillips Wilson, Paul and the Jewish Law, pp. 25-55.

25 N. T. Wright, The Climax of the Covenant: Christ and the Law in Pauline Theology (Minneapolis, MN: Fortress Press, 1992), p. 154.

26 For the different views, see Richard B. Hays, The Faith of Jesus Christ: The Narrative Substructure of Galatians 3:1-4:11, 2nd edn. (Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans, 2002), p. 183; Martyn, Galatians, pp. 354–5; David A. DeSilva, The Letter to the Galatians (Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans, 2018), p. 317: James D. G. Dunn, The Theology of Paul the Apostle (Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans, 2006), p. 139.

27 I am inclined to think Paul’s theological reasoning is largely the same in Galatians as in Romans. Therefore, I do not think the preposition indicates ‘reason’. The law could have been added for the reason of ‘sins’ but not ‘transgressions’. The key text is Romans 4:15, as rightly noted by Engberg-Pedersen, Paul and the Stoics, pp. 241–2.

28 That Christ functions the same mutatis mutandis for Paul as virtue for the Stoics has been extensively argued by Troels Engberg-Pedersen: ‘Paul made use of a comprehensive, but also sharply focused model that had been developed in Stoicism, the I-X-S model’. Troels Engberg-Pedersen, Paul and the Stoics (Edinburgh: T & T Clark, 2000), p. 293. This exercises influence into historical-theological reasoning on Christ perhaps due in part to the influence of Augustine and the Latin tradition’s translation of 1 Corinthians 1:18, 24 (the Vulgate reads, Christum Dei virtutem et Dei sapientiam).

29 Richard N. Longenecker, Galatians (Dallas, TX: Word Books, 1990), pp. 145–7; Martinus C. de Boer, Galatians: A Commentary (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2011), p. 237; Martyn, Galatians, pp. 361–3; Hans Dieter Betz, Galatians: A Commentary on Paul’s Letter to the Churches in Galatia (Philadelphia, PA: Fortress Press, 1979), pp. 175, 178; Pierre Bonnard, L’épitre de Saint Paul Aux Galates, 2nd edn. (Neuchâtel: Delachaux & Niestlé, 1972), p. 76.

30 Diodorus (Bibliotheca Historica, 10.4.6) and Polybius (Histories 18.7.3) use the construction τῆς ὥρας συγκλειούσης to convey the temporal sense, but this is different from συγκλείω εἰς.

31 E.g., Josephus, Antiquities 7.129, 13.277; Bellum Judaicum, 1.65, 1.659; Polybius, Histories 3.63.3, 15.20.7; Diodorus Siculus, Bibliotheca Historica, 2.26.7, 19.47.3.

32 Polybius, Histories 21.11.9; LCL translation modified.

33 Although εἰς τό is the usual construction with an infinitive, the εἰς by itself still expresses purpose here. See Debbie Hunn, ‘Does the Law Condemn the World? Law, Sin, and Faith in Galatians 3,22–23’, Zeitschrift für die Neutestamentliche Wissenschaft und die Kunde der älteren Kirche 106/2 (2015), pp. 245–61. The idea could be similar to Plato’s ‘saviour of the law’.

34 It is beyond my scope to detail the positives and negatives of the pedagogue. See David J. Lull, ‘“The Law as Our Pedagogue”: A Study in Galatians 3:19-25’, Journal of Biblical Literature 105/3 (1986), pp. 481–98; Norman H. Young, ‘Paidagogos: The Social Setting of a Pauline Metaphor’, Novum Testamentum 29/2 (1987), pp. 150–76; Norman H. Young, ‘The Figure of the Paidagōgos in Art and Literature’, The Biblical Archaeologist 53/2 (1990), pp. 80–6; Stanley F. Bonner, Education in Ancient Rome: From the Elder Cato to the Younger Pliny (Berkeley, CA: University of California Press, 1977), pp. 38–46. There is evidence contemporaneous with Paul that there were pedagogues who were freedmen and often taught slave children; see A. V. Yannicopoulos, ‘The Pedagogue in Antiquity’, British Journal of Educational Studies 33/2 (1985), pp. 173–9; Clarence A. Forbes, ‘Supplementary Paper: The Education and Training of Slaves in Antiquity’, Transactions and Proceedings of the American Philological Association 86 (1955), pp. 321–60; and especially, S. L. Mohler, ‘Slave Education in the Roman Empire’, Transactions and Proceedings of the American Philological Association 71 (1940), pp. 262–80.

35 ‘The Law of v. 23, that is to say, is not a pedagogical guide, but rather an imprisoning warden’ (J. Louis Martyn, Theological Issues in the Letters of Paul [Nashville, TN: Abingdon Press, 1997], p. 363). On the same page, Martyn says that Paul ‘is using the term paidagogos in the sense of a distinctly unfriendly and confining custodian, different in no significant way from an imprisoning jailer’. Belleville more positively comments, ‘The picture of strict supervision and custodial care for a designated period of time does not fit with a positive interpretation of the Law’s function as a moral guide or instructor that leads to Christ’. Linda L. Belleville, ‘Under Law: Structural Analysis and the Pauline Concept of Law in Galatians 3:21–4.11’, Journal for the Study of the New Testament 9/26 (1986), p. 60.

36 Rightly, ‘Der Apostel hat weder eine Drangsalierung noch eine Förderung des Schützlings durch den “Pädagogen” im Sinn. Er ruft den Begriff allein ab, um die Unfreiheit und Unmündigkeit ins Bild zu setzen, die seiner Auffassung nach mit dem Gesetz in der Zeit zwischen seiner Anordnung und dem Kommen Jesus Christi gegeben ist’. Peter von der Osten-Sacken, Der Brief an die Gemeinden in Galatien (Verlag W. Kohlhammer, 2019), p. 170.

37 This reflects Plutarch’s neutral and casual comment on the pedagogue, ‘the children’s tutor is said to lead, though he walks behind them and not before’ (Moralia 1008F).

38 Cf. Udo Schnelle, Paulus: Leben und Denken (Berlin: De Gruyter, 2014), p. 561; and Eckstein’s comment, ‘denn eine absolute Abwertung des νόμος ist weder aus dem Wortlaut von Gal 3,19f. noch aus dem Duktus der gesamten Argumentation von Gal 3,6-4,7 abzuleiten – ganz zu schweigen von der Darstellung im Römerbrief’. Hans-Joachim Eckstein, Verheissung und Gesetz: Eine exegetische Untersuchung zu Galater 2,15-4,7 (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1996), p. 200.

39 Konig has recently done great work on the teleological law and the pedagogue in Paul; Harro Koning, Sünde als Zielverfehlung bei Paulus: eine Studie zum stoisch-sokratischen Kolorit paulinischer Hamartiologie (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2024), pp. 421-34.

40 Seneca, Epistula 89.13, trans. Inwood; cf. 94.9.

41 This presupposes a narrative reading; see Todd L. Patterson, The Plot-Structure of Genesis: ‘Will the Righteous Seed Survive?’ in the Muthos-Logical Movement from Complication to Dénouement (Leiden: Brill, 2018).

42 Similarly, Roman law could lead one to consider more weighty things such as justice and righteousness, even though the Roman law itself would not contribute to virtue.

43 Paul begins the chapter addressing ‘you’ (vv. 1-7), the Galatians, but then shifts to the third and first-person plural (vv. 8-14), not distinguishing between Jew or Gentile and incorporating the τὰ ἔθνη into the narrative. This is not taken into consideration in Douglas A. Campbell, The Deliverance of God: An Apocalyptic Rereading of Justification in Paul (Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans, 2009), pp. 583-6.

44 This is one of the chief reasons why Paul retains a high value of his Jewish customs and considers them as valuable per se. He would much rather be a Jew than a Gentile because Jews had the knowledge of God’s coming salvation in the Messiah. Wright’s article makes a similar point, but also differs from my thoughts here; N. T. Wright, ‘Romans 2:17-3.9: A Hidden Clue to the Meaning of Romans?’, in Pauline Perspectives: Essays on Paul, 1978-2013 (Minneapolis, MN: Fortress Press, 2013), pp. 489–509.

45 The Greek word is just as flexible as ‘elements’ in English. English speakers can speak of the elements of good character, the elements of math, and the elements of the communion table. ‘Elements’ also have a technical meaning in chemistry. Esau McCaulley (Sharing in the Son’s Inheritance: Davidic Messianism and Paul’s Worldwide Interpretation of the Abrahamic Land Promise in Galatians [London; T & T Clark, 2019], pp. 178–82) understands the phrase to refer to the fundamental elements of the universe, but connects this to the covenant curses, as also does N. T. Wright (Galatians [Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans, 2021], p. 253). The connection to the curses seems unlikely because the context is so far from the covenant curses in 3:10. Further, the context in Galatians 4 more likely foregrounds the Roman background of inheritance, while the Abrahamic inheritance is latent, undergirding the idea of salvation. Paul is likely not reading Deuteronomy 4:26-28 and Jeremiah 16:11-13, as McCaulley suggests. Paul is more concerned about what takes his audience away from their telos, salvation in Christ. A further deficiency is that the covenant curses would mainly, if not only, pertain to a Jewish audience.

Interpreters should find a solution that accords with both audiences, and the virtue of the interpretation offered here is that it does so. In support of this interpretation of the phrase, see especially Neil Martin, ‘Returning to the stoicheia tou kosmou: Enslavement to the physical elements in Galatians 4.3 and 9?’, Journal for the Study of the New Testament 40/4 (2018), pp. 434–52. McCaulley does not cite this article. Understanding the στοιχεῖα as ‘elemental spirits’ simply lacks attestation in the 1st century. Martin’s excellent article argues against the position of J. Louis Martyn and John Barclay (who follow de Boer) that ‘elemental spirits’ are in view (the elemental spirits are connected to the physical elements in de Boer’s reading). Martin shows that only 15 percent of the citations in the wider 1st century BCE and CE have anything to do with the physical elements and concludes, ‘the [Pauline] context in which στοιχεῖα appears has nothing to do with science, philosophy or apologetics. The context is a discussion about maturation from the pre-Christian state to the Christian state. And so it seems highly probable that Paul chooses the term στοιχεῖα here to refer to the fundamental components of pre-Christian living as it contrasts to fullness of life in Christ’ (p. 449). Additionally, Clement of Alexandria (Stromateis 6.8.62; cf. 6.15.117) connects the phrase in Galatians 4:3, 9 and Colossians 2:8, 20 to Hebrews 5:12. Clement, along with Tertullian (Adversus Marcionem 5.4), understands the phrase as the basic elements of religious education (see also, DeSilva, The Letter to the Galatians, pp. 348–53). Galatians 4:8-11 further supports this interpretation. The antecedent of τοῖς οὖσιν is likely τὰ στοιχεῖα. The gender is neuter, not masculine. So, rather than ‘beings who are not gods by nature’ (NRSV), it is ‘things/principles that are not gods by nature’. The τὰ στοιχεῖα in verse 9 is mentioned without τοῦ κόσμου, but this could be implied and seems to be tied to the ‘days, months, times, and years’ in v. 10, again leading to the conclusion that elementary principles or teachings are likely in view.

46 Cicero says, ‘Nature, alone and unaided, goes a step farther; for, with no guide to point the way, she starts with those things whose character she has learned through the rudimentary beginnings of intelligence (ex prima et inchoata intellegentia genere), and, alone and unaided, strengthens and perfects the faculty of reason’ (De Legibus 1.27; 1.30; cf. Stobaeus, Eclogae 2.65.8–9; Plutarch, De Communibus Notitiis 23 [1069e]). Nature plays a different role in Cicero’s system of value than Paul’s, but Cicero’s point is that a human cannot attain virtue through the first principles of things. One needs help from nature. Paul says that humans cannot attain salvation through elementary things. One needs help (i.e., grace) from Christ.

47 This is clear in Galatians 3:21, ‘For if a law was given that could make alive, then certainly δικαιοσύνη would be from law’, and the succeeding verses 22-25. It is debatable whether Paul’s view of the law is only retrospective, not prospective, and unlikely, in my view, that Paul is only addressing Israel (pace Campbell, The Deliverance of God, p. 883).

48 This would agree with Käsemann’s ‘once’ and ‘now’ and his ‘already saved’ and ‘still tempted’, as well as his anthropological-psychological interpretation of law and righteousness, Ernst Käsemann, ‘Justification and Salvation History in the Epistle to the Romans’, in Perspectives on Paul (London: SCM Press, 1971), pp. 67 and 72.

49 Although a heuristic comparison is argued for here, Brookins highlights the problems of genealogical and heuristic (or, ‘illustrative’) claims in Timothy A. Brookins, Rediscovering the Wisdom of the Corinthians: Paul, Stoicism, and Spiritual Hierarchy (Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans, 2024), pp. 27–48. Brookins prefers a ‘philosophical interactivity’ model. If he is right about Paul and Stoicism, this would add more historical credence to the present argument.

50 Similarly, on Luther, grace, and virtue, see Gilbert Meilaender, The Theory and Practice of Virtue (Notre Dame, IN: University of Notre Dame Press, 1984), pp. 100–26.

51 Augustine describes the positive and negative aspects of the pedagogue for those under the law, connecting it with the spirit and the letter in 2 Corinthians 3:6. See Augustine of Hippo, De Doctrina Christiana 3.20-34, ed. R. P. H. Green (Oxford: Clarendon, 1995), pp. 141–7.