Friday, November 24, 2023

Social Justice in the Stories of Jesus

I'm excited to announce that my new book, Social Justice in the Stories of Jesus: The Ethical Challenge of the Parables, is now available. I wrote this book for all who have an interest in what Jesus taught and how he taught it, but who also may be interested to consider how aspects of his message have been eclipsed over the centuries through modes of interpretation that either miss the point or, worse, fit the teaching of Jesus into a box in which it really can't be contained. With an eye toward first-century culture and the role of stories in antiquity, this book examines how the teaching of Jesus has something to say to all of us today as we wrestle with some very complex and daunting societal and human rights issues.

The idea for this book started early in my time at Carlow University when I began teaching a new kind of course that is unique to Carlow: a Contemplation and Action course. These courses invite first-year students to explore a particular topic in the liberal arts as they learn about the heritage and values of the Sisters of Mercy. At the same time, they engage in a small act of mercy each day throughout the course, and reflect on that activity in conjunction with the readings about the Sisters of Mercy and the subject matter of the course. As a biblical scholar, it seemed obvious to me that the parables--short stories told by Jesus to challenge, provoke, and engage his listeners in reflection on their own values and actions--would be a great area of exploration for this course. And I was right! But the challenge for me was to find a textbook that both provided an accessible introduction to understanding parables in their original context (many students [and adults for that matter] do not even know what a parable is) as well as linkages to the possible implications of those parables in our world today. In the end, I chose Amy-Jill Levine's excellent book, Short Stories by Jesus: The Enigmatic Parables of a Controversial Rabbi, which provides a great entry point, but is a little advanced in some regards for first-year students with no background in the academic study of religion. As I taught the course over several years and connected the parables with the concept of mercy as lived out by the Sisters of Mercy, I began to see that there was a need for a book that could explicitly make those connections and also share them with others at an accessible level. 

And so I began working on this book in 2018. Since that time, it feels like the world has changed dramatically in some unpredictable and scary ways. Not only the world but it seems that segments of north American Christianity have been changing as well, to the point where messages of exclusion, hatred, and intolerance--things that one would think were incompatible with the love of Jesus for people in need--are praised as virtues. Writing and teaching on the parables in the context of our increasingly fragmented religious, political, and social worlds made it clear to me that this book was more needed than I originally even considered. My hope is that this book will be an encouragement to people of goodwill to engage in the kinds of contemplation and action that are needed in our world today in the face of injustice and inhumanity. 

Social Justice in the Stories of Jesus: The Ethical Challenge of the Parables is published by Wiley-Blackwell and will be in print January 9, 2024.


Sunday, March 28, 2021

Entering into Holy Week with the Good Samaritan

At this point in my spring course on the parables of Jesus we have just explored the parable of the Good Samaritan. This is always a rewarding and challenging week as we consider the parable in its original context and also its implications for today: What does having mercy mean today? Who is my neighbor? Who are the wounded on the side of the road today? Will I allow myself to see them, really see them, and respond?

This week in the class also marks an interesting moment where we encounter a concept which is new to most students: anti-Judaism. Students know about anti-Semitism, but anti-Judaism is a new one for most. In an article I published last year I included a short section discussing anti-Judaism and the parable of the Good Samaritan. Here is a paragraph from it:

The fact that the characters who pass by on the other side of the road and do not show mercy are Jewish religious leaders has given rise to anti-Jewish readings of the parable. In this context anti-Judaism takes shape in an interpretation which, intentionally or unintentionally, promotes Christianity as superior and Judaism as inferior. (Note: It is useful here to consider the distinction between anti-Judaism, which denigrates Jewish religion, and anti-Semitism, a racist ideology. For a good overview of anti-Jewish interpretation of the parables, see Amy-Jill Levine, Short Stories by Jesus: The Enigmatic Parables of a Controversial Rabbi [New York: HarperOne, 2014], 23-25.)
A standard anti-Jewish view of this parable assumes that Judaism is legalistic and heartless and that the priest and the Levite choose to observe Jewish law rather than help a fellow human being. By contrast, such a view claims that Christianity focuses on love and compassion and this parable shows that Jesus came to introduce a message of compassion which is, if not foreign to Jewish thought, at least only minimally present in it. One flaw in this line of interpretation is that Jesus was not introducing a new teaching but rather drawing attention to what Judaism already taught: the obligation to have compassion on one’s neighbor and someone in need (cf. Lev. 19:18). The Hebrew Scriptures are rich with teaching about God’s concern for the poor, the widow, the orphan, the alien, and of the obligation of God’s people to care for them. Jesus, as a Jew speaking to Jews, was not denouncing Judaism with his parables, but reminding listeners of truths they already knew. In light of its history of interpretation, this parable presents an opportunity for all of us to begin to grapple with anti-Judaism and become aware of the subtle ways in which anti-Judaism has influenced biblical interpretation. (Gordley, "Parables and the Principle of Mercy," Journal of Catholic Higher Education 39 [2020]: 15-36)

Consideration of this matter is particularly important in the 2020’s when anti-Semitism is—sadly—on the rise. Addressing anti-Semitism derived from the New Testament is not a minor issue. It is 2021 current headline news:

From Forbes: "Hate Crimes Against Jewish Students Are At An All-Time High." 

And in Iowa: "Iowans reported four anti-Semitic incidents in 2020, three of them involving public vandalism. Most recently, on the first day of Hanukkah in December, someone used red spray paint to scrawl the New Testament biblical citation “John 8:44” at an entrance of Davenport's Temple Emanuel." (From the DesMoines Register)

And of course we all witnessed the anti-Semitic symbols on display on January 6 at the insurrection and attack on our nation’s Capitol.

In the article of mine that I quoted from above, I also add this:

From anti-Jewish biblical interpretation to destructive action is not a big step. Biblical scholar Dominic Crossan observes, 'The trajectory of human violence escalates almost inevitably from the ideological through the rhetorical to the physical' (Power of Parable, 247). Interpreting the parables in anti-Jewish or other ways that dehumanize, whether intentionally or unintentionally, is a first step on this trajectory of human violence. It is incumbent on anyone who wishes to interpret the parables of Jesus to be mindful of this reality. It is now documented that the shooter at the Tree of Life Synagogue in Pittsburgh justified his actions through the misinterpretation of the New Testament. See Aamer Madhani et al., “Pittsburgh Synagogue Rampage Spotlights Rising Anti-Semitism in America,” USA Today, October 28, 2018.

As Christians enter into Holy Week, we need to recognize that anti-Judaism and anti-Semitism are a real part of Christian history—a part that must be faced honestly and confronted.

It is important that we consider the vast differences between the historical and cultural context of the first century and the cultural context of the present day, and what this means for the language we use when speaking about the Bible. For example, when the gospel writers or the Apostle Paul speak of “the Jews” they are not speaking of an entire grouping of people throughout history but specific Jews who rejected what became the Christian perspective. Further, Jesus and Paul themselves were both Jewish, and so it is important to emphasize that disputes with “the Jews” were originally internal disputes over understanding the meaning of the kingdom of God in a Jewish context.

As we reflect on the crucifixion this week we might take occasion to reflect on how the Bible actually emphasizes that the crucifixion is ultimately understood by Christians to have been for all humanity. It was not only the Jewish religious leaders who played a role (notably, not “the Jews” as a whole). Consider that according to the New Testament, this was God’s doing (it was God who “gave his one and only son”, according to John 3:16), Jesus himself had a key role (he predicted his death and went willingly toward it, Mark 10:45; John 18:11), and his followers (who abandoned him), and certainly the Roman rulers who were the only ones with the authority to put Jesus to death. And if Jesus came into the world to save sinners, isn’t everyone responsible then in a way, according to Christian teaching (1 Tim 1:15)? Sadly, as the Christian message was embraced in a Roman context, the tradition developed in such a way as to minimize the Roman role while placing blame on the Jews as a whole. This unfortunate development has been mirrored throughout history with disastrous results for the Jewish people and Christian mistreatment of them.

And with this, we have come a long way from our Good Samaritan. Nevertheless, the parable is a call to us again to have eyes and hearts open to those in need—our neighbors—and to be willing to respond with compassion. And it is important to recognize that this call comes to us from Jesus, from the heart of Judaism, from the heart of God.


SOME RESOURCES FOR FURTHER READING:

For an overview of anti-Semitism, see this short video produced by the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum.

See article, "The Crucifixion of Jesus and the Jews," for a brief, scholarly treatment for non-specialists that helps clarify the historical reality about the crucifixion and the way the tradition developed to minimize Roman responsibility and blame the Jews: 

A very helpful and concise overview of the larger issue by a leading New Testament scholar is found here: “Is the New Testament Anti-Jewish?” by Amy-Jill Levine. 

Sunday, January 19, 2020

Racism, Violence, and Discrimination versus the Sacredness of Creation


While the first week of the new term is always filled with stress and uncertainty of new classes mixed with the anticipation of new things ahead, this past week held something else: challenging thoughts for the new year. Three different events were held on campus this week that showcase what we mean at Carlow University when we talk about respecting the dignity of every human being--a concept that is closely related to the core value of focus for Carlow’s 2019-20 academic year, “Sacredness of Creation.” As I have noted in another post, this value is not just about respecting the world around us, but also about recognizing that every person we encounter is a unique creation of God. Thus we honor the “Sacredness of Creation” when we recognize the presence of God in every person, and when we treat all people with the dignity they deserve. Three events this week brought this idea into sharp focus as they addressed issues of racism, violence, and discrimination.

The first was a student panel in honor of Martin Luther King, Jr day, co-hosted by the Social Justice Institutes and the College of Leadership and Social Change. The event was entitled “Disruptive Empathy” and began with psychology faculty member, Dr. Pat Jameson, sharing from her research in relational cultural theory—a framework in psychology which promotes the benefits of empowering relationships in contrast to the destructive dynamics of power/over relationships. Notably, she began with mention of the concepts of justice and mercy that we focus on in our Contemplation and Action courses. Specifically, the idea that justice is "finding out what belongs to whom, and giving it back" (citing Walter Bruggeman). In this case: the respect and human dignity that every person deserves. Her comments set the stage for students' talking about their experiences of marginalization based on their multiple identities whether related to gender, race, sexual orientation, religion, or even place of origin. They also spoke about where they sought strength and encouragement, and gave some really thoughtful insights into ways the Carlow community might move forward to become even more of a place where “all are valued and all may thrive.” A key takeaway for all attendees was the advice to listen, really listen, to what our students of color, as well as other individuals with identities which are prone to be marginalized by the majority culture, have to say. And in that listening, not assume that "we" (ie the majority culture) know what those individuals are going through or what they need.

The second event was a faculty and staff training opportunity led by our Student Affairs leaders and chief of police around the university’s new Green Dot training. Green Dot is a bystander awareness and intervention program aimed at producing a culture change related to interpersonal violence whether sexual violence, intimate partner violence, or stalking. The purpose of the faculty and staff session was to share the details of the program with the community prior to its being rolled out with students. Part of the key to this program is having a campus culture that reinforces the message that violence is not ok and that everyone does their part to promote a safe campus. Rather than just a one-time training or seminar, Green Dot looks to be a very comprehensive and multi-pronged approach aimed at culture change. From the statistics that were shared, the program produces measurable and meaningful results where it has been used. A key insight was the idea that there are many ways to intervene in situations where someone may be in danger, and these range from simple distraction to delegation (finding someone in a suitable position or relationship to address the problem) to direct involvement. With awareness of the scope of the problem and with a range of tools in hand, members of our community can be better prepared to respond to a questionable situations where an individual’s safety may be in jeopardy.

The third event was a faculty lecture by Dr. Clara Cheng related to her research on implicit bias. Her talk was part of the President’s Lecture Series celebrating Carlow’s 90th anniversary and showcasing Carlow’s faculty expertise for the university and the broader community. Dr. Cheng did some myth-busting based on her extensive research and explained that implicit bias is something everyone has and that it is absorbed from the culture around us. Further, the problem with implicit bias is that it leads (even if unintentionally or unconsciously) to real impact in peoples’ lives. Dr. Cheng referred to research studies related to school achievement, college admission, job applications, career success, health care, criminal justice, and engagement with police officers, as areas where implicit bias impacts outcomes in very disparate ways for different groups. One recommendation from her talk was to recognize that implicit bias is a habit—and like any habit, if we work at it we can break it. When we catch our minds moving down a well-worn path of judgment of someone who is different from us, we can take the small step to replace biased thoughts about a person we encounter with a neutral thought.

Most encouraging to me about these events was the attendance—by faculty, students, and staff. During a very busy week, all three had better turnout than I have seen at many other open events addressing needs in the campus community. With this level of interest, and the rich content of challenging ideas shared, we all have a lot to think about as we seek to live in ways that recognize and honor the value of each person we encounter. And what a worthy goal to work toward in the new semester, new year, and new decade.

Friday, December 6, 2019

Clement of Alexandria’s Hymn to Christ the Savior


In honor of the day on which Clement of Alexandria is celebrated in the Anglican and Orthodox churches, and in recognition of Clement’s importance in early Christianity, I share below an excerpt of my book, Teaching through Song in Antiquity, pp. 371-381, in which I treat Clement’s “Hymn to Christ the Savior.”
.....

    There is no question that Christians in the second century continued the first-century New Testament practice of singing psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs. Clement of Alexandria (ca.150–220 CE) reminds us of this fact in book seven of the Stromata where he discusses the prayer and praise habits of believers who praise as they plow and sing hymns as they sail (Strom. 7.7.35.6). Likewise he exhorts Christians in To the Newly Baptized to make time for prayers and hymns to God, and to take delight in divine words and hymns.[1] In the Paedagogus he cautions Christians to sing psalms and hymns to God in appropriate ways – ways that contrast with the musical customs of the Greeks and Romans (Paed. 2.4.43.1–44.5).[2] While we are certain that the composing, singing, and reciting of songs of praise continued in the second century, we have very few representatives of these songs that would allow us to say much about the nature of Christian hymnody in this period. One hymn that has survived from the end of the second century (dating to ca. 190 CE) is a Hymn to Christ the Savior that comes to us in the manuscripts of Clement’s Paedagogus (3.12.101.4). In this section we will examine the hymn in light of earlier hymnic traditions with particular regard to its form, contents and function. A look at these aspects of the hymn will allow us to say something of the didactic qualities of this hymn.
     Clement of Alexandria was facing some unique challenges in Alexandria at the end of the second century.[3] Representing an earlier generation of scholarship, Henry Chadwick noted, “Alexandrian Christianity before his time is shrouded in mist, but what evidence there is suggests the powerful influence of gnostic thought and a tendency for the dividing line between heresy and orthodoxy to be less clearly drawn in Egypt than in Italy or Asia Minor.”[4] Though it is commonplace nowadays to question the appropriateness of the terms orthodoxy and heresy in this time period, it is nevertheless clear that in Clement’s day there were contested understandings of what the Christian life was about. As a Christian teacher in Alexandria, Clement aimed to show that his vision of the Christian faith was authoritative and authentic, while other competing versions, notably those of the Gnostics, were not legitimate.[5] In Clement’s own writings we can see that he was addressing challenges from at least two distinct groups, but probably more.[6] Within the Christian community were those who were “orthodox” but not highly intelligent.[7] These were perhaps resistant to philosophical reflection and education, and needed to be spurred on toward a greater understanding of their faith as a means of growing in the knowledge of Christ. A different challenge came from the Gnostics: “On the other side stand educated Christians deeply influenced and attracted by Valentinian Gnosticism with its generous fusion of Christianity, Platonism, and almost everything else as well.”[8] In this context Clement aimed to show that the believer in Christ who accepted the traditions of the apostles was the true gnostic.[9]
     Clement’s only known hymn, the Hymn to Christ the Savior, is found at the end of the Paedagogus, a treatise for young Christians on the subject of learning from Christ the instructor regarding Christian faith and conduct.[10] That the epilogue to this work is a hymn is clear from several indicators. First, in the manuscripts it is called a hymn in its title. Second, the hymn is carefully composed in Greek meter. Third, its contents include several calls to Christians to join in praising Christ. Fourth, it includes a number of series of epithets and poetic descriptions of Christ which reflect the traditional language of earlier Greek poems and hymns.[11]
     The Hymn to Christ the Savior is a sixty-six line metrical Greek hymn that addresses Christ directly with multiple epithets and requests, and ends with a series of exhortations to the congregation. The hymn may be analyzed as a well-balanced collection of couplets of anapestic lines, which have a rather free character and may reflect a semi-popular feel.[12] The Hymn is thus quite different from the earliest Christian hymnody we encountered in the New Testament where the hymnic style reflected to a large extent the Jewish tradition of psalmody. Clement’s Hymn reflects more directly the influence and impact of Greek hymnody both in its form as well as its expressions. While some scholars in the past have argued that the form and content can be differentiated and shown to reflect two distinct worldviews, more recent scholarship has maintained that the hymn is a witness to the complex inter-relationship of Greek and biblical elements.[13] Accordingly, it is not merely the case that Clement expresses biblical ideas in Greek hymnic form. Rather, as part of Clement’s larger theological program, the hymn is representative of the ways that biblical truth is reflected in the manner of expression of the Greek poets and philosophers.[14] Further, the hymn points to Clement’s social setting as it reflects some of the characteristics of second-century Gnostic hymns.[15] In view of this complexity we will see that the form of the early Christian hymn has developed to serve a different function in Clement than in the New Testament, and that its contents also reflect that new purpose.
     The opening lines of the hymn reveal just how different this is compared with the Johannine prologue or other New Testament Christological hymns:
Bridle-bit of foals unschooled in worldly ways
Wing of birds that do not go astray
Sure rudder-handle of ships
Shepherd of royal lambs
Gather together
Your simple children
To sing praise in a holy way
To hymn – in a guileless way
With innocent mouths –
Christ, guide of children. (lines 1–10)[16]
While one of the latest New Testament hymns, the Johannine prologue, begins in the beginning (John 1:1), Clement begins with poetic imagery reflecting the present moment where Christians may be gathering for worship. While John focused primarily on the work of the Logos in the past, Clement’s descriptive epithets for Christ have their focus on the present aspect of the relationship between Christ and the believer. Christ actively guides, shepherds, and directs his children. The remainder of the hymn develops in a similar manner as these initial epithets are developed further and as new epithets and images are introduced.
     Though scholars agree that Clement (or some other early Christian) has written this metrical hymn in a Greek style, there is no agreement as to the precise structure of the hymn.[17] Part of the difficulty lies in the way that imagery introduced earlier in the hymn is taken up and expanded on later in the hymn, so that it is possible to show that each of the distinct sections are still closely connected. Thus Wolbergs, for example, divides the hymn into two main sections (lines 1–32 and 33–66). The outline I provide here is based primarily on the implicit functions and the explicit themes that change in some way from one section to the next, resulting in seven distinct but inter-connected strophes:
First Strophe (1–10): Invocation
Second Strophe (11–18): Epithets in praise of Christ
Third Strophe (19–28): Epithets and descriptive interlude
Fourth Strophe (29–34): Prayer to the Holy Shepherd
Fifth Strophe (35–41): Epithets in praise of Christ
Sixth Strophe (42–53): Epithet and descriptive interlude
Seventh Strophe (54–66): Triple exhortation
Even if Clement did not compose this with seven distinct strophes in mind, it is still clear that each of these divisions represents a shift in subject matter, emphasis, or addressee. For our purposes, in addition to seeing how the hymn develops over these strophes, it is also significant to note what is absent from this hymn: there is no reference to any aspect of the narrative about Christ that is so prominent in the New Testament christological hymns. One looks in vain for references to the incarnation, the cross, or the resurrection. Instead, the focus is on expressing praise to Christ through imagery and metaphors that capture the current relationship of Christ to his people. It will be useful here to examine the strophes in a little more detail to note the kinds of imagery that Clement utilizes as this hymn unfolds.
     As we have seen, the first strophe begins with a series of epithets in praise of Christ (lines 1–4), followed by a request that he gather his children that they may sing praise to him (lines 5–10). The epithets in 1–4 are varied and can each be traced to Clement’s discussion about Christians as the children needing to be educated in chapter five of book one of the Paedagogus. There Clement discusses the notion that Christians are referred to in Scripture by a number of images including colts, birds, lambs, and children.[18] Each of these images can also be traced to philosophical writings.[19] Taken together the epithets point to the supremacy of the Logos on earth, in heaven, and in the deep.[20] Christ is not identified, however, until line 10 where he is hailed as “Christ, the guide of children.” In this epithet we see a striking instance of Clement’s use of pagan motifs for his own Christian purposes. Marrou notes that this epithet is used by Homer and also applied as an epithet to Zeus, Apollo, and Aphrodite. At the same time the expression is a poetic equivalent of the term paidagogos, thus connecting the hymn closely to the work that precedes it.[21] In the first strophe then, Christ is hailed using a variety of epithets which resonate with Greek hymnic traditions as well as with book one of the Paedagogus, culminating in his being named as the guide of children. The request in this first strophe is that Christ would gather his children to offer pure and sincere praise to Christ.
     The second strophe develops the kingly imagery that was hinted at in line 4 where Christ was hailed as “shepherd of royal lambs.” In line 11 Christ is called the “King of saints,” an expression not found in the New Testament but certainly derived from the New Testament use of kingly imagery for Christ.[22] The kingship of Christ will be a recurring motif of the hymn (cf. lines 31 and 55). The second strophe also introduces new concepts into the hymn. The term pandamator in line 12 (“all-taming word”) is one of several expressions that reflect Clement’s intentional use of Greek poetic style.[23] The term is used by Homer, though not in the Homeric Hymns.[24] The expression also introduces the idea of Christ as the Logos, which will be reflected later in lines 30 and 51. In line 14 Christ is “ruler of wisdom,” an expression in line with Clement’s earlier discussions about Christ as the Wisdom of the Father (Paed. 1.2.6.2; 1.11.97.3; 3.12.98.1) and expressing the development of a Pauline idea (cf. Col 2:3). Wisdom likewise figures later in the hymn (line 47).
     As was the case with the second strophe, the third strophe also returns to imagery introduced in the first strophe mentioning helm, bridle, heavenly wing in sequence before moving on to a new image: Christ as fisher of men (line 24). Though not a prominent image for Clement, he does use this metaphor in Paed. 3.12.99.2 where man is caught as though he were a fish, and it is the Logos who fashions the rod. The unique feature of this strophe is that it moves from a list of epithets to a description of one of the deeds of Christ. He saves the fish from the sea of evil and lures them with the promise of life (lines 24–28). It is here that we find a glimpse of the teaching of the hymn as this image of fisher of men is unpacked to a small extent. May suggests that Clement applies the image of fisher of men directly to the Logos, noting that he leads men to the truth in many ways (cf. Strom. 7.95.3).[25] Wolbergs points to the use of the concept in Greek philosophers and poets as well as in the Hebrew Bible (cf. Hab 1:14).[26] Regardless of the ways it may have resonated with Greek readers, the image strongly suggests two clear teachings: 1) that the world is hostile and evil, and 2) that Christ saves his children from that environment offering them something better, namely, life. The concept of “life” is referenced twice more in the later strophes of the hymn (lines 40 and 59). As we have observed, the life-giving work of Christ has been a repeated theme in second-century christological hymns.[27]
     It is interesting to note the wide range of imagery and epithets that are used thus far in the hymn. At the same time it is fascinating to see how Clement introduces key concepts and expressions that he will allude to later in the hymn: shepherd, king, Logos, wisdom, and life. Though he developed the fisher of men imagery more than others, this is one image that is not reiterated later in the hymn. However, the “life” which Christ offers these fish is referred to again in line 59 as the “teaching of life.”
     The fourth strophe returns to the shepherd imagery introduced in the first strophe. In direct address the singer asks the shepherd and king to lead the children on the path marked out by Christ, which is the path to heaven.
Holy shepherd
of sheep of the Logos,
lead, O king,
the unharmed children;
the footprints of Christ,
are the path to heaven. (lines 29–34)[28]
May suggests that this prayer is the central aspect of the hymn, as the guiding of the Logos is the central teaching of the Paedagogus as a whole.[29] In spite of textual difficulties and proposed emendations,[30] the prayer calls for the king, Christ, to lead his children on the path to heaven, and metaphorically, to lead the sheep of the Logos (or the rational sheep), as a shepherd leads his sheep. Here Clement connects the imagery of children and sheep earlier in the hymn (lines 3–5), and also earlier in the Paedagogus (cf. Paed. 1.5.14.1–2). We can note here in particular Paed. 1.4.11.2 where Clement cites Plato (Laws VII 808D) on the need of sheep for a shepherd and children for a paidagogos. As the central strophe of the hymn, this prayer encapsulates the desire of Clement that Christians be led in the education that only Christ offers, an education leading to heaven.
     The fifth strophe returns to the style of praise through epithets. Marrou points out the subtle play between nominative and vocative, as the hymn opens with the vocative and continues in this manner through line 28. After the prayer in the fourth strophe, the fifth strophe switches to the nominative case.
Ever-flowing word,
unlimited age,
everlasting light,
source of mercy,
artisan of virtue
of those who praise God
with their holy life. (lines 35–41)
After this the sixth strophe will return to the vocative with Christ Jesus in line 42.[31] While lines 35–36 continue the theme of eternal life referenced in lines 26 and 34, Marrou suggests they may also represent a philosophical explication of the first verse of the Logos hymn, John 1:1. May sees these lines as a statement that responds to Gnostic thought regarding the Aeon. Here Clement claims not only that the Logos is eternal but also that the Logos himself is the Aeon (line 36).[32] Further, in this strophe the Logos is also divine light (cf. Paed. 1.28.2).[33] The strophe ends, however, with a focus on what the children of the Logos do, hymning God with their lives. This picks up the image from strophe one (lines 7–10), an idea which will be the focus of the exhortations in strophe seven.
     The sixth strophe (lines 42–53) introduces another new image into the hymn: the idea that Christ Jesus is heavenly milk that nurtures the infants.
Christ Jesus,
heavenly milk
pressed from the sweet breasts
of the bride,
gracious gifts
of your wisdom.
The tiny infants
with tender mouths,
suckled
at the nipple of the logos
and filled
with the dewy Spirit. (lines 42–53)
While new to the hymn that concludes the Paedagogus, the concept is hardly new to the larger composition. Chapter six of book one (Paed. 1.6.34.3–52.3) contains an extended discussion of the milk of the Word drawing extensively on passages such as 1 Cor 3:1–2, Exod 3:8, 17, John 6:57, and 1 Peter 2:1–3. Similar imagery is found in the Odes of Solomon as well.[34] Buell explores Clement’s use of lactation imagery in light of other ancient discussions of the practice, noting its use as a metaphor for both salvation and character formation. She claims, “In developing this metaphor of nursing to depict the activity of the divine toward Christians, Clement resonates with traditions known to virtually everyone in his audience, whether through religious iconography, literature, or discussions of paideia.”[35] Though the imagery was widely known, Buell’s study shows that Clement’s specific application of the metaphor to the Logos and the process of Christian instruction is unique to his context and is in implicit competition with other understandings of the Christian life.[36] This metaphor is a complex one and, as May points out, the milk is understood by Clement as the Logos himself in some of his discussions or the teaching and proclamation of the Church in other places.[37] In fact, Clement can use lactation imagery for a number of different purposes within his larger project. Though a full discussion of this motif goes beyond the scope of the present study, for our purposes here it is important to note two points. First, the imagery was widespread in the second century and so would have been appreciated by Clement’s audience. Second, the inclusion of this kind of language in the hymn in condensed form relates to an extensive discussion of the topic elsewhere in the Paedagogus.[38]
     The final strophe (lines 54–66) consists of three exhortations directed to the Christian audience using a variety of images. They are called to sing together to Christ the king (lines 54–55), to escort the son as a mighty chorus (lines 60–63), and to “sing songs together to the God of peace” (lines 65–66). As Clement suggests in the Paedagogus and elsewhere, this simple and pure praise of God and Christ are the obligation of those who have been instructed by the Logos.
     Having sketched the contents we can now consider the purpose of this fascinating hymn. The original function of the hymn is debated, as there is no witness to the hymn’s use in Clement’s day. In this regard, our discussion of function is similar to the discussion about the function of Cle­anthes’ Hymn to Zeus, a composition that, in the form of praise, presented key precepts of the philosophical program and at the same time made requests of the deity culminating in the call to praise. As we saw with the Hymn to Zeus one can imagine some of the ways these hymns may have been used in their communities, but the results must necessarily be hypothetical. Still, in the case of Clement’s Hymn to Christ the Savior it is most likely that the hymn was used in some kind of a communal setting. Its contents, which very directly refer to the act of singing and praising on behalf of the followers of Christ, suggest that the hymn was not merely literary ornamentation for Clement’s Paedagogus.[39]
     As far as the strategy of the hymn and the way it conveys its teaching, a few more comments can be made. First, as the conclusion to the Paedagogus we have seen that the Hymn to Christ the Savior expresses many of the central ideas of the larger work, particularly as it uses specific phrases and images that were critical to the larger composition. In light of the larger composition the didactic and instructional aspects of the hymn can be much more clearly seen. Second, in light of this, the hymn can be seen as a hymnic summary of the teaching of the Paedagogus. Though it does not capture every aspect of the larger composition, it strikes the central chords of the work as it praises Christ, asking him to lead his children, and as it exhorts the children to bring sincere and pure praise to the one who has saved and nourished them. Third, since the hymn is marked by the piling up of descriptive epithets rather than narrative or even expository sections, the teaching of the hymn is somewhat unique. Rather than focusing on the deeds of Christ in the past, the hymn focuses on the relationship of the individual child or collective group of children to the Instructor in the present. The imagery suggests the ways that Christ relates to his children, and also the appropriate response of his children to Christ. Christ leads, rescues, guides, tames, shepherds, and so forth. His children are marked by simplicity, holiness, artlessness, and wisdom with the result that they sing hymns and psalms of praise to Christ. The Hymn to Christ the Savior also teaches the value of appropriate songs of praise, even as Clement discussed these in Paed. 2.4.43.1–44.4. But as the hymn moves beyond the model of early Jewish psalms and the model of the New Testament, it shows how the educated Greek believer can offer up songs of praise in a fitting way that draws on the best of Greek, Jewish, and Christian thought.
     We are unaware of whether or not Clement wrote other hymns or songs. Having other hymns with which to compare this one would enable many more fruitful conclusions about the development of early Christian hymnody in Alexandria. Nevertheless, in this one passage we see a vivid testimony to one early Christian’s quest to express his teaching in light of the best of Greek culture. Along these lines Robert Wilken wrote, “Among early Christian writers Clement is the most Greek, the most literary, a savant so immersed in the high culture of the Hellenistic world that he effortlessly cited hundreds of passages from poets, philosophers, playwrights, and historians in his writings.”[40] In these few verses of the Hymn to Christ the Savior we can see evidence of the creativity and breadth of Clement, who could draw on such a wide range of ideas and styles to compose a simple yet profound hymn in praise of Christ.

Conclusions

Though our evidence is limited, it is clear that the Christian hymnody of the second century indicates an increasing level of sophistication among the poets and teachers who composed and used this medium of instruction and reflection. This claim is suggested first of all by the greater instances of the use philosophical terminology together with Hellenistic philosophical styles of expression (e.g., the paradoxes of Ign. Eph. 7:2 and the negative theology of Ign. Pol. 3:2). Second, it is suggested by the move to compose poems in Greek meter (as seen in the Gnostic hymns and in Clement of Alexandria’s Hymn to Christ the Savior). Third, it is seen in a move beyond the simpler contents of the christological hymns of the New Testament, while at the same time continuing to develop further the kinds of specific issues they raised (e.g., cosmology, the incarnation, the effects of the redemptive work of Christ, etc.). Along with the increasing sophistication of second-century Christian hymnody and its didactic emphases, the practice of singing hymns of praise continued in full force among Christian communities of diverse beliefs. The preservation of one particular hymnbook, the Odes of Solomon, illustrates both the devout and joyous nature of hymnic praise, as well as the development of christological and theological thought that occurred in the second century CE.
     The second-century Christian didactic hymns we have examined confirm once again the perceived effectiveness of hymnic praise to convey truth to human audiences. Particularly in the context of the developing christologies of the second century, hymnic reflection about Christ and hymnic description of his redemptive work was a fruitful means of theological expression as well as a useful tool for passing on one’s teaching.[41] It was also a useful tool for assessing and evaluating the teaching of others, as the citations and comments in the third-century writings of Hippolytus make clear.

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For more on the history of early Christian hymnody, and particularly in the second century CE, see chapter 6 of my New Testament Christological Hymns volume from 2018.


[1] Clement, “To the Newly Baptized,” in Clement of Alexandria (trans. G.W. Butterworth; Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1979), 368–377, 375.
[2] For a full discussion of musical imagery and thought in Clement see Charles H. Cosgrove, “Clement of Alexandria and Early Christian Music,” JECS 14 (2006): 255–282.
[3] For the issues in Alexandria see Eric Francis Osborn, Clement of Alexandria (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2005), 1–23. See also the discussions in John Ferguson, “Introduction,” in Stromateis. Books 1–3 (trans. John Ferguson; Washington, D.C.: Catholic University of America Press, 1991), 3–19, esp. 4–10, and Moreschini and Norelli, Early Christian Greek and Latin Literature, 1:248–267.
[4] Henry Chadwick, Early Christian Thought and the Classical Tradition: Studies in Justin, Clement, and Origen (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1966 repr. 1984), 33.
[5] See for example, Denise Kimber Buell, Making Christians: Clement of Alexandria and the Rhetoric of Legitimacy (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1999), 12. She writes, “Clement employs language that naturalizes and authorizes his own speaking position, while also differentiating him from his competitors. Specifically, he asserts himself as a rightful heir to a tradition of knowledge and interpretation that he depicts as having emerged from a single source” (12).
[6] Ronald Heine notes four specific groups that Clement appears to address in the course of his writings. Ronald E. Heine, “The Alexandrians,” in The Cambridge History of Early Christian Literature (ed. Frances M. Young, Lewis Ayres, and Andrew Louth; Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2004), 117–130, here 119. On the make-up of the Christian community in Alexandria see Osborn, Clement of Alexandria, 22–23.
[7] See the discussion in Strom. 1.43–45 (GCS 15); Clement refers to the orthodox believers in 1.45.6 (GCS 15).
[8] Chadwick, Early Christian Thought, 34.
[9] Along these lines see Strom. 7, esp. 104.2 (GCS 17): “The life of the Gnostic is in my view no other than works and words which correspond to the tradition of the Lord.” Rudolph cites this verse and explains that Clement “sought to take up in a positive way the legitimate concerns of Gnosis and to reconcile them with the basic Christian affirmations in an original fashion” (16). In this sense Clement attempted to not only deny the claims of false gnosis, but to use gnosis in a positive sense meaning “Christian knowledge of truth” (Rudolph, Gnosis: The Nature and History of Gnosticism, 16). On this idea see the comments by Marrou in his introduction to Clement, Le Pédagogue: Livre I (trans. Marguerite Harl; introduction and notes by Henri-Irénée Marrou; SC 70; Paris: Éditions du Cerf, 1983), 29–34.
[10] GCS 12:291–292. The fact that the hymn is missing from one of the primary manuscripts of Paedagogus leads some scholars to question whether the hymn is a secondary addition. See the summary and discussion in Cosgrove, “Clement of Alexandria and Early Christian Music,” 266–268. The present study interprets the hymn in its current literary context.
[11] For a fuller development of these points, see the commentary and discussion by Marrou in Clement, Le Pédagogue: Livre III (trans. Claude Mondesert and Chantal Matray; notes by Henri-Irenee Marrou.; SC 158; Paris: Éditions du Cerf, 1970), 257–273; Gerhard May, “Der Christushymnus des Clemens von Alexandrien,” Liturgie und Dichtung 1 (1983): 257–273; Annewies van den Hoek, “Hymn of the Holy Clement to Christ the Saviour,” in Prayer from Alexander to Constantine: A Critical Anthology (ed. Mark Christopher Kiley; London: Routledge, 1997), 296–303.
[12] Clement, Le Pédagogue: Livre III, 204.
[13] May, “Christushymnus,” 260.
[14] Ibid., 258.
[15] Wolbergs, Griechische religiöse Gedichte, 84.
[16] Translation is mine based on the Greek text in SC 158.
[17] Ferguson, Marrou, and May each propose different outlines, and point to still other possibilities as well. Clement, Le Pédagogue: Livre III, 206–207; John Ferguson, Clement of Alexandria (New York: Twayne Publishers, 1974), 105; May, “Christushymnus,” 263.
[18] On the Christians as children see Paed. 1.5.12.1–13.4. On the children of Christ as birds see Paed. 1.5.14.3–5 where Clement cites Matt 23:37: “In that sense we are young birds, a name which graphically and mystically describes the simplicity of soul belonging to childhood” (14.5). On Christians being described under the figure of a colt see Paed. 1.5.15.1–3 where Clement cites Zech 9:9 and Gen 49:11. On Christians as lambs Clement cites Isa 40:11 explaining, “Once again he uses the more innocent class of sheep, lambs, as a figure for simplicity” (Paed. 1.5.15.4). Clement will draw on the characteristics of these animals, particularly guilelessness and simplicity, in the Hymn in lines 9 and 60.
[19] Wolbergs, Griechische religiöse Gedichte, 86–88.
[20] May, “Christushymnus,” 265–266.
[21] Clement, Le Pédagogue: Livre III, 194.
[22] May, “Christushymnus,” 266. The image does not figure prominently in the Paedagogus, though Christ is identified as king in Paed. 2.8.73.3–6. Cf. Strom. 1.159.5–6 where Clement refers to “Christ our king,” citing part of the Philippian hymn (Phil 2:10–11).
[23] Ibid.
[24] Il. 24.5; Od. 9.373.
[25] May, “Christushymnus,” 267.
[26] Wolbergs, Griechische religiöse Gedichte, 91–92. He also suggests a baptismal overtone.
[27] Cf. Ign. Eph. 19:3; Odes Sol. 41:11–16a.
[28] Translations of Clement’s hymn from this point on are from van den Hoek, “Hymn of the Holy Clement,” 296–297.
[29] May, “Christushymnus,” 267.
[30] See a variety of views in Clement, Le Pédagogue: Livre III, 196; May, “Christus­­­hymnus,” 267; Wolbergs, Griechische religiöse Gedichte, 11.
[31] Clement, Le Pédagogue: Livre III, 198, 206.
[32] May, “Christushymnus,” 268.
[33] Wolbergs points to this understanding in the NT, Wisdom of Solomon, and elsewhere in Clement (Wolbergs, Griechische religiöse Gedichte, 94).
[34] Cf. Odes Sol. 8:14; 19:1–5.
[35] Buell, Making Christians, 127.
[36] See Buell’s extended discussion of Paed. 1.34.3–1.50.2 on pp. 119–179.
[37] May, “Christushymnus,” 270.
[38] See Odes Sol. 8:14 and 19:1–4 for other second century hymns that employ images of nurture through breast milk.
[39] May, “Christushymnus,” 263–265.
[40] Robert Louis Wilken, The Spirit of Early Christian Thought: Seeking the Face of God (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2003), 54.
[41] Cf. the quote preserved in Eusebius (Hist. eccl. 5.28.5) and cited at the beginning of this chapter.