All as σκύβαλα beside the μέγιστον τῶν ἀγαθῶν: Philippians 3:7–11 in Dialogue with Epictetus

Abstract

In Philippians 3:8, Paul holds all things to be loss (ζημία) and even dung (σκύβαλον) in comparison with Christ. Similarly, beside a precise conception of the good (ἀγαθὸν), Epictetus considers earthly achievements and physical benefits as “indifferents” (ἀδιάφορα), which he defines as things that are neither good nor evil. This paper employs a comparative analysis of Paul and Epictetus to examine the tension inherent in both authors as they seek to explain the sufferings and enjoyments of human existence in light of humankind’s ultimate end. Despite Paul’s strong language, he still recognizes the value of temporal goods, including release from prison, recovery from illness, and financial assistance. Thus, a person can value these benefits when they are joined to the greatest good, as illustrated by Augustine’s conception of ordered loves. Like Paul, Epictetus affirms the lesser value of indifferents, particularly when they enable participation in the good. This paper argues that both Paul and Epictetus acknowledge a secondary value in things that are joined to the supreme good, but that Paul differs from Epictetus in classifying them as goods that can be rightly desired and in acknowledging temporary sufferings to be an evil even as they can bring about good.

1. Introduction

Scholars commonly read Philippians in its Greco-Roman context and particularly as it relates to Stoicism, the dominant philosophy of the time. Shortly after the death of Nero, the Stoic philosopher Epictetus gained his freedom from slavery and began teaching in Rome and Greece. A. A. Long, the classical scholar who has written more than anyone else on Epictetus, remarks that there are “clear traces of Stoicism in the Pauline books of the New Testament” (Long 2002, p. 259; cf. Eastman 2017, p. 32). Although he (Long 2002, pp. 17, 110; cf. Bonhöffer 1911, pp. 78–80; Sharp 1914, p. 135) still asserts that there is no evidence that Epictetus borrowed from Christian authors, Epictetus’ references to Christians demonstrate his familiarity with Christianity (Diatr. 2.9.20–21, 4.7.6). Huttunen (2017) argues that these passages point to Christian concepts and phraseology in Epictetus’ Discourses. Regardless of direct influence, striking similarities occur between Epictetus’ teachings and Pauline theology. More specifically, Epictetus’ conception of indifferents provides essential insight when interpreting Paul (Deming 2016, p. 61; cf. Sampley 1991, p. 11; Engberg-Pedersen 1995, p. 270; Arnold 2014, p. 151; Wilson 2022, p. 81). In opposition, Campbell (2013, p. 208) states that “this particular valuing of aspects of human life as indifferents does not facilitate a coherent understanding of the apostle”. Campbell’s rejection of the comparison arises from his misunderstanding that the term indifferents refers to “a certain detachment from life” in which a person’s decisions lack significance (Campbell 2013, p. 208). This position fails to recognize Epictetus’s use of indifferents as a means of assigning value to things explicitly in relation to the supreme good. When properly understood, not only the “deep parallels” between Paul and Epictetus (Bertschmann 2020, p. 257), but also a consideration of their dissimilarities assists in revealing the subtleties of their thought (Barclay 2009, p. 60). Even in differing from Engberg-Pedersen on the level of correspondence that can be found between Pauline and Stoic ethics, Eastman (2017, p. 33) still asserts that a close comparison between Paul and Epictetus can “sharpen understanding of Paul’s theology”. Several scholars also particularly commend the heuristic means of better comprehending Paul’s letters in light of their similarities and differences with Stoicism (Engberg-Pedersen 2015, p. 293; Deming 2016, p. 63; Wilson 2022, pp. 10–11). Building on their work, this paper narrowly examines Philippians 3:7–11 in juxtaposition with Epictetus. Rather than addressing questions of direct influence, it employs a theological reading of Philippians to consider the conceptual parallels between Paul’s and Epictetus’ thought as they engage with shared moral questions.1

As near contemporaries, Paul and Epictetus are addressing the same question along similar lines. In Philippians 3:7–11, Paul describes the aim of human life, the τέλος of knowing Christ, and his willingness to throw all else aside for this relationship. The passage is intense and personal. Presumably, Paul intended his self-revelation and the acknowledgement of his losses to encourage the Philippians to follow him in a passionate love for Christ that would completely overshadow all physical and temporary goods. Epictetus’ teachings were also profoundly practical. He was uninterested in the hypothetical aspects of Stoicism and exhorted his students not to accumulate knowledge but rather to act upon it; otherwise, they would be like an athlete who flaunted his dumb-bells instead of the muscles in his biceps (Diat. 1.4.13–17). Epictetus’ own sufferings were evident, from his former slavery to his lameness, but he was convinced that happiness was still within his grasp. Although philosophy would not offer him externals like health or wealth, he believed it enabled him to address and overcome the misfortunes of life through the attainment of his true good (1.15.1–5, 1.20.15–16). For Paul and Epictetus, the identification of the greatest good carries implications for how a person should regard and respond to all lesser things. Tension develops between life’s τέλος, the enjoyment of secondary goods, and the suffering that results from their loss. Both authors resolve this inherent complexity in different ways that bring a greater understanding of their own nuance and illuminate the other’s approach. This paper argues for a strong correspondence between Paul’s use of σκύβαλα and Epictetus’s use of ἀδιάφορα, even as Paul differs from Epictetus in upholding the intrinsic good of externals and affirming that their presence or privation can rightfully bring enjoyment or sorrow.

2. Paul’s Approach in Philippians

Although Paul does not employ τέλος or ἀγαθός in Philippians 3:7–11, τελειόω appears in 3:12 and τέλος in 3:19, and the passage as a whole demonstrates that he is speaking in terms of the Stoic concept of the supreme good (Engberg-Pedersen 1995, p. 269; Fowl 2005, p. 153; Arnold 2014, p. 193; Wilson 2022, p. 89). Using the language of financial accounting, he calculates his gains and losses with regard to what is most valuable. In 3:4–6, he lists seven credentials that would render him equal or even superior in righteous achievements to other Jews (Keown 2010, pp. 121, 136). Then, in 3:7–11, he evaluates them in terms of his ultimate goal.

Verse 7 establishes that the things Paul previously regarded as profit (κέρδη), his recounted achievements of Jewish lineage, zeal, and righteousness according to the law, he now counts as loss (ζημία) on account of Christ. Verse 8 goes a step further, with Paul regarding all things (πάντα) as loss “on account of the excelling value of the knowledge of Christ Jesus my Lord” (διὰ τὸ ὑπερέχον τῆς γνώσεως Χριστοῦ Ἰησοῦ τοῦ Κυρίου μου). A matter of potential controversy arises at this point on whether Paul’s designation of πάντα refers to the type of things he mentioned earlier, ones that are beneficial in gaining salvation, the successes that could potentially gain him standing and approval before God, or whether πάντα is absolute in meaning all things whatsoever, including the goods of this earthly existence that have no bearing on winning salvation such as friendship, wealth, and physical health. Biblical scholars often concentrate solely on righteous standing before God in this passage (Airay 1864, pp. 230–32; Eadie 1977, pp. 177–78; Moyter 1984, p. 160; Martin 1987, pp. 148–50; Keown 2010, pp. 140–42; Aquinas 2012, pp. 46–48), thus removing the ability for this passage to be applied more generally to the enjoyments of life. Certainly, Paul is adamant that the personal accomplishments he strove so hard to obtain could not merit the salvation that comes only through Christ’s work. The legal language in verse 9 of righteousness or justice (δικαιοσύνη) and the dichotomy between the righteousness of the law (νόμος) versus the righteousness of faith (πίστις) support a soteriological interpretation. However, this reading need not exclude the other. The emphatic beginning of verse 8 (ἀλλὰ μὲνοὖνγε καὶ), the repetition of πάντα, and the context of Paul’s sufferings in losing all things (πάντα ἐζημιώθην) for the sake of Christ demonstrate that Paul’s meaning of πάντα is all-encompassing. Verse 8 should be taken to indicate that Paul is rejecting anything that stands in competition with Christ (Hunsinger 2020, p. 98; Fee 1995, p. 317; Hawthorne 2004, p. 190; Bruce 1989, p. 112; Michael 1948, p. 145; Jowett 1910, p. 120; Meyer 1893, p. 155).

Paul emphasizes that his true profit, the summum bonum, is to gain Christ (ἵνα Χριστὸν κερδήσω), or more specifically, the knowledge (γνῶσις) of Christ Jesus (3:8). Verses 9–11 detail the aspects of salvation that this knowledge entails. This knowledge is not merely an intellectual assent, but is relational, practical, and experiential (Plummer 1919, p. 74; Hendriksen 1962, p. 167; Melick 1991, p. 132; Reumann 2008, p. 490). It is a knowledge of “personal experience and intimate relationship” (Fee 1995, p. 318) that cannot be separated from love (Bockmuehl 1998, pp. 205–6; Koperski 1996, p. 342). Hansen (2009, p. 235) summarizes that this knowledge embraces “personal relationship, moral action, and intellectual reflection”. In coming to Christ, Paul experienced an “epistemological renovation,” which not merely reordered his current priorities, but gave him a completely new valuing system (Carr 2022, pp. 155–56).

Any gains or losses, therefore, when set in comparison with this relationship with Christ, become as nothing, or as Paul heightens the expression in verse 8, as σκύβαλα, even worse than nothing. This is extreme language. Although not all scholars agree on the translation, with some preferring a mild one like rubbish and others holding to dung or excrement (Martin 1987, p. 150; Maier 2020, p. 15; Punch 2014, pp. 370–71; Bird and Gupta 2020, p. 137), it is most likely that Paul intends the strongest expression (Silva 2005, p. 157; Cook 2020, p. 103). Regardless of the translation, the implication holds true that no nourishment remains in these things, nothing that can be put to use in attaining the ultimate good, one so complete that nothing else is necessary in addition to it.

It is important to note that this calculation of the supreme good in comparison with other things is not a new development in Paul, but rather a clear imitation of Christ and his words. Michael (1948, p. 148) notes the parallel language of gain (κερδαίνω) and loss (ζημιόω) in Mark 8:36, where Christ proclaims that gaining the whole world will not profit a man if he loses his soul (cf. Matthew 16:26; Luke 9:25; Hawthorne 2004, p. 188; Silva 2005, p. 158). Mark’s conception of the “whole world” (κόσμος ὅλος) is captured by Paul in his designation of losing “everything” (πάντα) for Christ. Closely corresponding with this concept is Jesus’ reiteration that one must lose one’s life (ψυχή) in order to find it (Mark 8:35, Matthew 10:39, Luke 9:24), even to the point of a man hating his own life (John 12:25) as well as his parents, siblings, wife, and children (Luke 14:26). Christ requires nothing less than the complete sacrifice of everything else in order to be his disciple. The parallel with Christ also exists in Philippians itself, when Paul (2:5–8) encourages Christians to have the mind of Christ, who counted his own life as loss and became obedient unto death (Koperski 1996, p. 134; Hansen 2009, p. 232). A tight linguistic link appears between Christ’s and Paul’s accounting: just as Christ did not consider (ἡγέομαι) equality with God the prize to be grasped (Phil. 2:6), so also Paul did not consider (ἡγέομαι) his former achievements to be gains when compared with Christ (Phil. 3:7). Despite Bertschmann’s (2018, p. 246) emphasis on the distinction that exists between Paul’s mindset in 3:8 and Christ’s in 2:6, Paul’s consideration still mirrors that of Christ in calculating and surrendering one’s gains.

If all human and earthly goods count as σκύβαλα beside the knowledge of Christ and the fullness of the relationship that such knowledge entails, this does not mean that Paul views all other things as inherently rotten. They are useless insofar as they can assist in obtaining Christ and also worth nothing in comparison with Christ, but Paul, just like Jesus before him, never disparages the value of earthly goods like one’s relationship with one’s parents, the physical nourishment of bread and water, or even life itself. Certainly, Paul is single-minded in his focus on Christ and the spiritual well-being of the Philippian saints. His prayer for them focuses solely on spiritual benefits rather than the goods of life (1:9–11). In the first and last chapters of Philippians, when mentioning physical goods, he employs the contrasts of life or death (1:22) and hunger or being fully fed (4:12) to show that they are matters of indifference to him (Jaquette 1995, pp. 108–11). Unlike those who seek Christ as their end, others define the summum bonum in terms of the physical and temporary. Those whose god is their belly (ὧν ὁ θεὸς ἡ κοιλία) and whose knowledge and purpose are fixed on earthly things (οἱ τὰ ἐπίγεια φρονοῦντες) are actually pursuing the τέλος of complete destruction (3:19). In contrast, the supreme good of knowing Christ outweighs all other goods to the point that no earthly goods are necessary and they are all spurned in light of it. As Bertschmann (2014, p. 144) notes in regard to their “citizenship in the heavens” (πολίτευμα ἐν οὐρανοῖς, 3:20), the Philippian Christians are ruled by a “heavenly reality”. Like Paul, Epaphroditus serves as an example of one who disregarded his own life (ψυχή) in service to Christ (2:30). At the same time, despite Paul’s strong language of σκύβαλα in 3:8, he still recognizes the value of temporal goods, including release from prison (1:19), recovery from illness (2:27–28), and financial support (4:16). The very existence of the financial gift that is one of Paul’s motives in writing the letter (4:14–16) points to physical need on the part of the one receiving and to the good of the assistance that is offered by others. Additionally, the requests that Paul encourages the Philippian Christians to make to God in everything (ἐν παντὶ) would include earthly goods as well as spiritual ones (4:6; cf. Belleville 2022, pp. 89–90). When Paul assures them that God will fulfil their needs (χρεία, 4:19), he is referring to physical as well as spiritual provision (Bird and Gupta 2020, p. 192). Paul’s indifference in 1:23 regarding his own earthly life is not based on a contempt for life itself but rather on his passionate desire (ἐπιθυμία) and ultimate good, to be with Christ, which he emphasizes is by far the better choice. His indifference in 4:11–12 in regard to being hungry or fed is the result of learning through experience and being initiated into the mystery of what it means to be self-sufficient (αὐτάρκης).2 The ability to be content in troubling circumstances depends on the fact that those circumstances are acknowledged, as Paul does, to be ones of lack and need. If the circumstances did not matter or were easy to handle with one’s own strength, Paul would not need to overcome them through the power of God, as he declares he has done in 4:13. Finally, although he counts as σκύβαλα the circumcision and Jewish lineage that he mentions in 3:5, Paul elsewhere affirms their value (Rom. 3:1–2, 9:4–5). The apparent conflict between counting all earthly things as σκύβαλα and yet desiring and even seeking these things can be reconciled by viewing them through two different lenses. Through one lens, that of comparative worth, all physical and earthly goods are σκύβαλα. Although Cook (2020, p. 106) asserts that σκύβαλον should not be considered a “relative devaluation” since he fears that it will diminish the severity of Paul’s expression, most scholars agree that Paul is speaking in terms of comparison and relative worth (Punch 2014, p. 373; Campbell 2013, pp. 213–14; Plummer 1919, p. 73; Michael 1948, p. 145; Lightfoot 1963, p. 148; Wilson 2023, p. 442). As Koperski (1996, p. 15) states, “Despite the ardour of Paul’s rhetoric, there endures a real reluctance on the part of his interpreters to consider all things to be σκύβαλον in an absolute sense”. Paul is not referring to the intrinsic value of these things, but rather to his own reckoning (ἡγέομαι) of them in relation to the greatest good (Bockmuehl 1998, p. 204). In comparison with Christ, everything else becomes a matter not only of indifference but σκύβαλα. However, through another lens, that of inherent worth, earthly goods can have value.

If earthly, temporal, and physical things can be simultaneously affirmed as goods while also being reckoned σκύβαλα, a person’s response to them can reflect a similar dynamic. It would seem that the loss of something that is counted σκύβαλον should not result in suffering, and that the gain of it should not result in rejoicing. However, Paul allows for suffering and rejoicing in regard to these things even though a person’s supreme good is found in Christ alone.

Human flourishing ultimately requires only Christ, the one who is sufficient for happiness with nothing else being required. Hence, the continual rejoicing that Paul enjoins: “rejoice in the Lord always” (Χαίρετε ἐν Κυρίῳ πάντοτε, Phil. 4:4). The person who possesses intimate knowledge of Christ can take pleasure and delight in that relationship regardless of circumstances and even in the loss of external goods, as Paul can rejoice (χαίρω) in being poured out as a drink offering on the faith of the Philippians and can expect that they will rejoice together with him (συγχαίρω, 2:17). Suffering that results in the spread of the gospel leads toward the summum bonum and is therefore embraced, just as Paul rejoices in his chains and imprisonment that have led people to hear the gospel and become bold in proclaiming it (1:12–14). In this sense, a person could attain human flourishing and happiness even if he is in the well-known situation Plato describes in the Republic (361c–e), when the just man is stripped of reputation, gifts, and honors, and is whipped, stretched on the rack, enchained, and suffers all evils.

Although a person can be happy when all else is taken away, the surfeit of joy and delight that comes from knowing Christ does not rule out the ability to sorrow in the loss of physical and temporary goods. Unshaken rejoicing in possessing the greatest good and the perspective that regards that good as outweighing all others to the point that they are σκύβαλα in comparison can exist concurrently with profound sorrow about earthly things. The human flourishing that was shattered at the Fall will not be fully restored on every level for embodied human beings until the eschaton, or as Paul describes it, the “day of Christ” (Phil. 1:6, 1:10, 2:16; cf. Rom. 8:22–25, 1 Cor. 15:26–28). Until that time, a person deprived of legitimate earthly goods will inevitably suffer. Paul affirms this in Philippians when he says that if Epaphroditus had died, he would have experienced “sorrow upon sorrow” (λύπην ἐπὶ λύπην, 2:27). This repetition highlights the depth of the grief Paul would have felt, not only for the sake of the work that would have been hindered by the loss of his fellow worker, but also for the loss of one whom he loved as a brother (1:25).3 Similarly, a person can also desire, seek, and rejoice in external goods. Due to God’s mercy in sparing Epaphroditus’ life, the Philippians will rejoice (χαίρω) in seeing him again and Paul will be less sorrowful (ἄλυπος, 2:28). Epaphroditus himself was greatly desiring (ἐπιποθέω) to be with the Philippians and was sorely distressed (ἀδημονέω) at their own grief when they heard he was ill (2:26). Thus, Paul employs the language of rejoicing and sorrowing in regard to the earthly good of relational connections, particularly those of family members in Christ. Even in a cosmos ruled by divine sovereignty, needs and sufferings do not cease to be such. This theme is evident throughout the letter, from Paul’s assertion that he and the Philippians suffer (πάσχω, 1:29) for the sake of Christ,4 to his designation of Epaphroditus as the minister of his need (χρεία, 2:25), and his commendation of the Philippians for sharing in his affliction (θλῖψις, 4:14) and sending him financial assistance to meet his physical needs (χρεία, 4:16).

Augustine’s well-known and influential concept of ordered loves proves helpful in determining the extent to which a person can value and rejoice in external goods that also are reckoned σκύβαλα. Although Augustine engages with Philippians 3 in his writings, he does not mention ordered loves within this specific context.5 However, Augustine’s theological concept of ordered loves directly addresses the issue of external goods, dealing with the tension that arises between the summum bonum and all other things. Like Paul, Augustine employs a comparative lens to explain how a person can value God’s gifts in relation to God himself. Arnold (2015, p. 585) confirms that in Philippians 3:7–11, Paul is engaging in the same kind of teleological consideration as the ancient philosophers and that “gaining Christ can clearly be seen as the summum bonum”. Similarly, Augustine identifies God as the “the true and highest good” (verum ac summum bonum, De civ. D. 8.8; cf. Conf. 2.12), the one who is the “fount of our supreme happiness and the end of every desire” (ipse enim fons nostrae beatitudinis, ipse omnis appetitionis est finis (De civ. D. 10.3). Within this framework, Augustine then defines virtue as an order of love (ordo amoris), saying that although every created thing is good, it can be loved rightly and wickedly; it is loved rightly when it preserves the proper order but wickedly when it confuses that order (Cum enim bona sit, et bene amari potest et male, bene scilicet ordine custodito, male ordine perturbato, De civ. D. 15.22; cf. De doctr. christ. 1.27). Created things (creatura) like wealth, honor, status, and even friendship are external goods (extrema bona) and gifts (dona) from God that are beautiful and bring pleasure, but when detached from the supreme good they are abandoned and ruined because they lose their goodness and sweetness apart from him (Conf. 1.31, 2.10–11, 4.18; cf. McCurry 2011, pp. 49–52). Following Augustine, Traherne (1908, pp. 125–27) asserts that earthly things are gifts from God and cannot be loved too much when God is loved as the end and all earthly things are loved proportionately “in God, and for God: and God in them” with a “well-ordered Love” (cf. Naugle 2008, pp. 48–49). Paul hints at a link between physical goods and God’s gifts to his saints when he mentions the financial gift (δόμα) sent to him by the Philippians (4:17) and refers to God as the one who will satisfy every need (πληρώσει πᾶσαν χρείαν, 4:19). Elsewhere, the Pauline tradition makes the link even clearer, stating that “every created thing of God is good, and nothing rejected if it is received with thankfulness” (πᾶν κτίσμα Θεοῦ καλόν, καὶ οὐδὲν ἀπόβλητον, μετὰ εὐχαριστίας λαμβανόμενον, 1 Tim. 4:4; cf. 1 Cor. 10:26).6 Thus, a person can desire, value, love, and rejoice in earthly goods when they are properly ordered in relation to God as the greatest good. Their inherent worth comes only through relation to his goodness and because they are gifts that he provides. To fail to delight in a gift or to give thanks for it is a spurning of the gift and its giver. If God is loved rightly, his gifts will also be valued, but when they are loved in the wrong proportion, in competition with him, in a way that he prohibits, for themselves alone apart from his goodness, or without the praise and gratefulness to him that must accompany one’s enjoyment, they become σκύβαλα. This is the significance of Augustine’s distinction between the terms to use (uti) and to enjoy (frui), where God is enjoyed as the summum bonum and all else is used in the sense that it is only loved for God and on account of him (De doctr. christ. 1.4, 1.22, 1.27).7 Although they are good, external things can never serve as their own end. They cannot bear such a weight. Therefore, Augustine’s comparative ordering of loves echoes and further clarifies the paradox that occurs when Paul ascribes value to earthly goods but also counts them as σκύβαλα in relation to the summum bonum of knowing Christ.

3. Epictetus’ Approach in Light of Paul

What was the true problem between the brothers Polynices and Eteocles, who battled for the throne of Thebes? Epictetus traces it not to power or status, but to a mistaken notion about the worst of evils and the greatest of goods (τὸ μὲν ἔσχατον τῶν κακῶν, τὸ δὲ μέγιστον τῶν ἀγαθῶν, Diatr. 4.5.29–30; cf. 1.18.3). In striving for the good life (εὖ ζῆν) and happiness (εὐδαιμονία, 1.4.31–32), people must know how to correctly distinguish between what is good, bad, or neither (ἀγαθὰ καὶ κακὰ καὶ οὐδέτερα, 1.20.6; cf. 2.5.4, 2.7.3, 3.22.23).8 When people confuse these things, striving earnestly after the wrong ends like Polynices and Eteocles, they become enmeshed in sorrows.

Epictetus is not unlike Paul when he states that “the end is to follow the gods” (τέλος ἐστὶ τὸ ἕπεσθαι θεοῖς, Diatr. 1.20.15; cf. 1.30.4). In the same way that Paul advocates in Philippians 3:7–8 for a personal and relational knowledge of Christ, Epictetus’ language when he speaks of god or the gods is also deeply personal.9 Even in this mortal life, he says, a man should resolve to have communion with Zeus (πρὸς τὸν Δία κοινωνίας, 2.19.27). However, the relational aspect of Epictetus’ portrayal of god should not lead readers to think that he is speaking of Zeus in the same terms that Paul does of God, since Epictetus also refers to god in terms of nature (φύσις), mind (νοῦς), and right reason (λόγος ὀρθός) and affirms that each person is a piece of God (1.17.14–18, 4.11.9, 2.8.2, 2.8.11). While affirming the similarity between the language and commitment to the divine that is seen in Paul and Epictetus, Long (2002, pp. 143–44) cautions against associating them too closely (cf. Bonhöffer 1996, pp. 117–20). Nevertheless, Epictetus’ placing of the supreme human good not in the physical and temporal things of life but rather in the spiritual and divine parallels Paul’s prioritization of the knowledge of Christ.10

Also akin to Paul, Epictetus engages in an act of ordering and comparing other things in their relation to the supreme good. He constantly returns to the theme of the true nature of good and evil (οὐσία τοῦ ἀγαθοῦ…καὶ τοῦ κακοῦ, Diatr. 2.1.4; cf. 4.13.24), which he defines in terms of προαίρεσις, which is a conscious act of the will. More specifically, as Dobbin (1991, p. 114) explains, προαίρεσις is a deliberate choice involving “both reason and desire, so that it has both a strong intellectual and ethical component”.11 Unlike the body, προαίρεσις is a person’s true self (1.1.10–12, 3.1.41). All good and evil things fall within the bounds of προαίρεσις, which enables a person to respond correctly to external impressions (1.1.7; cf. 2.1.4; Rist 1969, p. 228). Good things include “the virtues and all that partakes in them, while evil things are the vices and all that partakes in them” (ἀγαθὰ μὲν οὖν αἱ ἀρεταὶ καὶ τὰ μετέχοντα αὐτῶν, κακὰ δὲ κακίαι καὶ τὰ μετέχοντα κακίας, 2.19.14; cf. 1.30.4, 2.9.15, 4.5.32). All other things are external (ἐκτός), outside of a person’s προαίρεσις (4.4.4, cf. 3.8.1–4, 3.20.1–2, 3.24.3). Epictetus counts all these as indifferent things (ἀδιάφορα), whether positive ones that bring pleasure such as the body, a spouse, children, friends, horses, wealth, clothes, and a house, or negative ones that cause pain such as exile, imprisonment, death, and ignominy (1.1.14, 1.30.2–5, 2.19.13–14, 4.1.66–67; cf. Gill 2023, p. 98). The greatest thing (μέγιστον) is the right use of προαίρεσις, while the greatest harm (μεγίστη βλάβη) that can befall a person is its destruction (1.18.8). Unfortunately, people tend to be concerned about indifferent things rather than the greatest thing; for instance, they worry about losing physical sight, which is an indifferent thing, instead of worrying about losing intellectual sight, which is the greatest thing (1.20.12). A person who honors any indifferent thing destroys προαίρεσις (4.4.23). Thus, a person must strive “to learn what is the greatest of existing things and to pursue this in everything, to be earnest about this, having considered the other things secondary to this” (τὸ κράτιστον τῶν ὄντων καταμαθεῖν καὶ τοῦτο ἐν παντὶ μεταδιώκειν, περὶ τοῦτο ἐσπουδακέναι, πάρεργα τἆλλα πρὸς τοῦτο πεποιημένον, 2.23.34). In his own reframing of losses in light of the greatest good of knowing Christ, Paul also highlights that this perspective is one that he had to learn (μανθάνω, Phil. 4:11).

Although superficial differences appear in their perspectives, Epictetus’ language in regard to ἀδιάφορα mirrors Paul’s conception of σκύβαλα. Both employ their respective words in distinguishing between higher and lower levels of goods. A small divergence appears between Paul’s willingness in a specific context to call external things good (καλόν, 1 Tim. 4:4) and assign them profit (ὠφέλεια, Rom. 3:1) and Epictetus’ insistence that indifferent things cannot be classed as good or evil (2.16.1–2, 4.5.32), even as he ascribes some value (τις ἀξία) to them (2.23.25). Epictetus refuses to use the common language of humankind in designating externals as good or evil since such language may serve as a trap, tricking people into the lie of supposing that happiness can be found in externals and that they contribute to the supreme good (1.22.12–13). On the other hand, Epictetus’ reckoning of external things as indifferents appears more positive than Paul’s stronger use of σκύβαλα. Overall, a deeper examination reveals that Epictetus’ assessment of ἀδιάφορα is essentially the same as Paul’s valuation of σκύβαλα.

Both authors view physical things as potentially instrumental in a person’s pursuit of the supreme good. For Paul and Epictetus, it is only when the supreme good is sought for itself alone that indifferents can be valued rightly. Just as Paul prizes the Philippians’ financial gift because it produced spiritual fruit in their lives (Phil. 4:17), so also Epictetus affirms the lesser value of indifferents when a proper use of them enables a person to participate in the good. For instance, a person’s father, brother, or country are not good in themselves, but the safeguarding of these relationships becomes good when one protects and cares for them on account of the supreme good (Diatr. 3.3.5–8). Epictetus goes further, arguing that only those who prioritize a right προαίρεσις, thereby valuing virtue over self-interest, will be able to uphold those relationships (2.22.20–21, 3.3.6–7). Only the wise man who correctly identifies the good truly possesses the power to love (φιλεῖν, 2.22.3), just as Socrates loved his children and Diogenes loved everyone he met, but both as servants of Zeus with their ultimate allegiance to him (3.24.60–65; cf. Reydams-Schils 2005, p. 123). Similarly, Paul speaks of the love of Christ generating a genuine love for others (Phil. 2:1–3). Thus, externals can serve as means to the end and become valuable in that context, but they can never serve as ends in themselves or they lose all value. Externals are like beautiful inns on the road; a person on a journey passes through the inns but never stays there (Diatr. 2.23.37; cf. August. De doctr. christ. 1.4). Additionally, in the same way that Paul’s imprisonment served in the proclamation of the gospel (Phil. 1:12–13), Epictetus views external pains or the loss of external pleasures as a potential means of attaining the good (Diatr. 3.3.8–9, 3.20.12).

Both authors also view external things as gifts that require thankfulness on the part of the recipient. Paul’s assertion that Christians should receive good things from God with thankfulness (1 Tim. 4:4; cf. Smith 2004, p. 237) is given an even stronger emphasis in Epictetus’ Discourses. Repeatedly, Epictetus refers to God (θεὸς) as the giver (ὁ διδούς, 4.4.47; cf. 1.12.24). As a king and father, he bestows favors (χάρις), including life, the body, the senses, food, wine, possessions, the seasons, the light of the sun, and family members, for which people ought to return thanks (1.6.40, 2.23.5, 4.1.102–111, 4.10.16).12 Epictetus emphasizes that these externals do not belong to a person; they have been given for a short time and they can be taken away without blame: “the one who gave takes away” (ὁ δοὺς ἀφαιρεῖται, 4.1.101–110).

Inherently, however, these gifts matter little to Epictetus in comparison with a right προαίρεσις. He compares Athens and the Acropolis to stones and a refined rock (2.16.33) and considers all externals only a mixture of figs and almonds thrown on the ground (4.7.23–24). Even further, because externals contribute nothing in attaining εὐδαιμονία (Jaquette 1995, p. 51), Epictetus declares that they are “nothing to me” (οὐδέν πρὸς ἐμέ, 1.30.3; cf. 1.29.24). Lightfoot (1963, p. 322) disapproves of this viewpoint, declaring that Jesus departed from the Stoic position when he affirmed that “ye have need of all these things” (Matt. 6:32). However, Lightfoot fails to mark Epictetus’ distinction between physical needs and one’s supreme good. Epictetus is not denying that food is required for physical life; he even states that food and drink are prepared for the body; rather, he is denying that death is the true evil and urging that a deeper kind of food is needed (Diatr. 1.16.1, 3.26.38, 2.16.39).13 In the same way that Paul speaks of counting all things loss for Christ (Phil. 3:8), Epictetus urges people to cast aside externals in their pursuit of the ultimate good: “throw it away, it is nothing to you” (ἀπόβαλε, οὐδὲν πρὸς σέ, Diatr. 3.3.15, cf. 4.1.112, 4.5.17).14

Nevertheless, even as he counted externals as σκύβαλα from a spiritual perspective, Paul was willing to call externals good in a physical context so long as they remained tethered to the supreme good. Although initially a minor difference with Epictetus, Paul’s classifying of externals as good has broader implications for how a person should respond to the gain or loss of them. In their views on the proper attitude to external things, Paul and Epictetus diverge. In a way that is not true for Epictetus, Paul is able to seek and rejoice in externals as inherently significant. They derive their goodness from the ultimate good and gain value through their relation to it. Paul prayed for Epaphroditus’ healing, desired it, and rejoiced when it came. On his part, Epictetus does not utterly rule out the potential for the enjoyment of externals. God invites his children to participate in life as a festival, with dancing, applauding, calling upon the gods, and singing hymns (4.1.108, cf. 3.5.10). However, Epictetus does not consider externals worthy of desire or avoidance unless they are required for virtue. If one can be virtuous without them, they are unnecessary. Seeking or desiring them will only cause unnecessary sorrow, and the wise man will be just as willing to leave the festival and have externals taken away as he is to retain them. Thus, a person must limit desire (ὄρεξις) and avoidance (ἔκκλισις) to what is within his will, never yearning after or fleeing from externals (3.12.5–8, 1.4.19, 1.12.15, 4.1.81–84, 4.4.33). Εὐδαιμονία and yearning for externals are incompatible, as seen in the example of Odysseus, who wept for his wife during their long estrangement (3.24.17–18).

In regard to a person sorrowing over externals, Paul and Epictetus have an even greater difference of perspective. Both view God’s will as ultimately good. Paul accepts either life or death so long as Christ is magnified (Phil. 1:20), he tells the Philippians to follow the example of Christ who was obedient even to death (2:8), and he affirms that God works in them so that they might will (θέλω) what is in accordance with his good will (2:13). However, while Paul would clearly accept God’s will no matter the outcome, he still says that Epaphroditus’ healing saved him from experiencing “sorrow upon sorrow”. Barclay (2009, p. 67) observes that this grief “contrasts sharply with Epictetus’ denial that others can fundamentally cause us harm” (cf. DeSilva 1995, p. 561; Fletcher-Louis 2023, p. 52; Peterman 1997, p. 137). On one level, Paul can gladly yield his will to God and experience God’s promised peace (εἰρήνη, 4:7), and on another level he can still grieve over externals and urge Christians also “to weep with the weeping ones” (κλαίειν μετὰ κλαιόντων, Rom. 12:15). Like Paul, Epictetus emphasizes acceptance and complete submission to God’s will, asking about the loss of an external, “will you not yield it joyfully to the giver?” (οὐ χαίρων παραχωρήσεις τῷ δεδωκότι, Diatr. 1.12.24). Epictetus’ aim is absolute alignment between his will and God’s: “for I believe that the thing God wills is better than what I will. As a servant and a follower, I will devote myself to him; I move together with him, I reach out to him, in short, I have the same will as him” (κρεῖττον γὰρ ἡγοῦμαι ὃ ὁ θεὸς θέλει ἢ ὃ ἐγώ. προσκείσομαι διάκονος καὶ ἀκόλουθος ἐκείνῳ, συνορμῶ, συνορέγομαι, ἁπλῶς συνθέλω, 4.7.20; cf. 2.7.13). Hence, if God willed illness or poverty for him, Epictetus declares that he would embrace that while rejoicing (ἀλλὰ χαίρων, 3.5.9). Thus far, Epictetus and Paul would agree. Epictetus sounds like an echo of Paul’s command to “rejoice in the Lord always” (Phil. 4:4; cf. 1 Thess. 5:16–18). However, unlike Paul, who was sorrowful yet rejoicing (λυπούμενοι ἀεὶ δὲ χαίροντες, 2 Cor. 6:10), Epictetus does not believe he can rejoice and sorrow at the same time. A person who grieves (λυπέω, Diatr. 3.11.2, 3.2.16, 4.4.32) is in opposition to the person who possesses happiness and all peace (εἰρήνη πᾶσα, 3.22.105; cf. 1.24.9; Long 2002, p. 192).

Epictetus’ rejection of grief and sorrow is based on two foundational and separate premises, both of which are orthodox Stoic positions. First, because the world is well-ordered, whatever happens will always be good (Diat. 4.7.6–7, 3.17.1, 3.24.19–20, 3.26.28–29; cf. Sandbach 2018, p. 167; Cochran 2014, p. 213). The only evil that Epictetus identifies is a wrong use of προαίρεσις, when a person makes the conscious move away from virtue, a problem that can still be fully remedied through his own efforts (Diatr. 1.7.40–43, 3.24.23). As Long (2002, p. 145) affirms, “Epictetus rejects the existence of any evil principle in the universe” (cf. Long 1968, p. 335; Bonhöffer 1996, p. 37; Aquinas ST I-II, q. 59, a. 3). The universe is free from a devil, innate human corruption, or a fallen creation. Sufferings do not implicate God’s goodness because the only sufferings that exist are those that derive from a person’s deliberate choice. Thus, a profound disparity arises between Epictetus and Paul. Both authors believe that the loss of externals can result in good, for Epictetus as the result of one’s own conscious will and for Paul as the result of God’s power. Epictetus issues the challenge, “bring whatever you wish, and I will make it good” (ὃ θέλεις φέρε κἀγὼ αὐτὸ ἀγαθὸν ποιήσω, Diatr. 3.20.12). On his side, Paul boldly declares that “God works all things together for good” (εἰς ἀγαθόν, Rom. 8:28). However, Paul also affirms the presence of evil in the spiritual realm, in nature, and in the human condition (Eph. 6:12, Rom. 8:22, Rom. 3:23, Phil. 3:2). Sorrow is the proper response to this evil, whether the death of a friend, an earthquake that destroys homes, an ancient forest ravaged by fire, warfare between nations, loneliness, divorce, illness, lack of resources, the pain of aging, disability, infertility, or even the loss of a beloved pet. God does not desire for evil to reign, and one day he will cause it and all sorrows to end; thus, the person whose will is aligned with God’s will both grieves over present evil and desires its termination. Barclay (2009, p. 71) notes that “it is only on the eschatological horizon that Paul sees the well-ordered universe that Epictetus takes for granted as the present condition of life” (cf. Bertschmann 2020, p. 272). While Epictetus is able to acknowledge a positive value in externals even though he does not label them good, he never views externals like natural disasters, illness, or even death as partaking to any extent in evil. In this context, sorrow would be an irrational and self-tormenting response.

The second premise that underlies Epictetus’ rejection of sorrow is the Stoic doctrine that virtue alone is sufficient for happiness. The question of whether externals are necessary for εὐδαιμονία was a contested one in antiquity. Aristotle identified three kinds of goods (ἀγαθῶν), those of the body, the soul, and those external to a person (Eth. Nic. 1098b. He argued that the happy person requires perfect goodness in action with an adequate amount of external goods (1101a), since it is nonsense to say that a good man will be happy even if he falls into the greatest ill fortunes (1153b). Breaking with Aristotle and the Peripatetics, the Stoics held the unique position that virtue was enough for happiness, the τέλος of human life (Long 1996, p. 184; Brunt 2013, p. 12; Annas 1993, p. 392; Annas 2000, p. 337; Long and Sedley 1987, p. 357).15 The dilemma is more difficult than it might initially appear, with direct implications for life, since it addresses whether a person who suffers grave misfortunes can hope for happiness or not. Cicero wrestled with the question throughout his life and at times provided different answers, although he eventually agreed with the Stoics (Brunt 2013, p. 183). He concluded that human beings face a multitude of severe misfortunes in life, including poverty, loneliness, bodily pains, loss of one’s possessions, blindness, the destruction of one’s country, exile, and slavery (Tusc. 5.29); if virtue is not sufficient for happiness, then happiness will be destroyed (5.40). Both Aristotle’s and Cicero’s arguments are compelling. It sounds ludicrous to assert that a man in the utmost agony can be happy, but it sounds equally problematic to assert that a person can be happy when his happiness depends on externals. Siding wholeheartedly with the Stoic position, Epictetus refuses to call externals good, regarding them as accomplishing nothing in regard to happiness (Dobbin 1998, p. 170).

Paul takes a nuanced position that paradoxically agrees with both Aristotle and the Stoics, although it is closer to the Stoics. Both Paul and Epictetus aim at a τέλος, but it is a matter of debate whether Christianity is compatible with the ancient pursuit of εὐδαιμονία. Wolterstorff, for instance, believes that εὐδαιμονία is “similar to egoism in that it too is self-oriented” (Wolterstorff 2015, p. 5), and therefore, he argues that it is inconsistent with Christianity’s call to love (Wolterstorff 2008, p. 194; cf. Toner 2010; Hare 2000, pp. 34–35). Long (2002, p. 200) responds to this kind of argument by saying, “There are not two dispositions, a self-interested one and an altruistic one, but a single attitude that treats concern for others as integral to concern for oneself”. Additionally, Wolterstorff is mistaken to view the Stoic εὐδαιμονία as unrelated to love of something outside the self. The single disposition that Long identifies is driven by love, which causes a person to passionately pursue virtue as an objective and external reality. In voicing the Stoic position, Cicero says that virtue possesses a beauty that awakens desire and compels love, drawing humans to seek it for itself alone (Off. 1.15; Leg. 1.48; Fin. 2.46, 2.49, 2.51–52, 3.21). Finally, the question of the summum bonum is inherently framed in terms of the human good; for Epictetus, the answer is virtue, for Paul, it is intimate knowledge of Christ, but both can be framed in terms of εὐδαιμονία, a person’s wellbeing or flourishing.16 God is both the highest good in himself and also the highest good for the individual. The link between Paul’s τέλος of knowing Christ and εὐδαιμονία is seen in Augustine’s search for the summum bonum of happiness (beatum, De civ. D. 8.8) when he calls God “the highest good and my true good” (summum bonum et bonum verum meum, Conf. 2.12).17 Aquinas also situates εὐδαιμονία within a Christian perspective, identifying both happiness and God as the final end of man (ultimus finis hominum est beatitude…Deus est ultimus finis hominis (ST I-II, q. 1, a. 8). He reconciles this apparent contradiction by saying that an end is twofold, consisting of the good itself and the use or attainment of that good (ST I-II, q. 1, a. 8); thus, “happiness includes two aspects, certainly the highest good itself, which is the greatest good; and the attainment or the enjoyment of that good” (beatitudinis duo includuntur, scilicet ipse finis ultimus, qui est summum bonum; et adeptio vel fruitio ipsius boni, ST I-II, q. 5, a. 2). A person’s summum bonum consists of God and his enjoyment of God. To separate the enjoyment from the good itself is to make it no longer a person’s own good. In this context, the search for εὐδαιμονία is neither a “personal-relative or an intense hedonistic pursuit,” but rather “the condition of genuine human fulfillment and flourishing rooted in a relationship with God” (Naugle 2008, p. xv; cf. Strawn 2012, p. 318; O’Donovan 1980, p. 156; Traherne 1675, pp. 4, 34, 548). Thus, a better distinction between the Stoic and Christian view is not in regard to the notion of εὐδαιμονία itself, but in regard to whether one is motivated by the love of virtue or the love of God. Like Epictetus, Paul believes that a person’s εὐδαιμονία does not depend on externals. For the one who possesses knowledge of Christ, that is enough and nothing else is ultimately needed, no matter the circumstances. Otherwise, how could Paul rejoice in his chains (Phil. 1:18), face death as a gain (1:21), and promise the Philippians that God’s peace would guard their hearts and minds in the midst of a troubled world (4:7)? With Epictetus, Paul believes that the τέλος of life can be reached without externals, so they are unnecessary for it and even σκύβαλα in comparison. Full human flourishing consists in being in an intimate relationship with Christ. In contrast to Aristotle, Paul views this as a happiness that can withstand the loss of all earthly things. Paul’s focus echoes that of Christ, who said not to be like the Gentiles in striving after food, drink, and clothing, but rather to strive for a heavenly good (Matt. 6:31–33). However, while acknowledging the “telos-formation” of the command to seek first the kingdom of God and the resulting relative devaluing of physical necessities, Betz (1995, pp. 428, 471, 483) asserts that the promise is given that these physical necessities will also be provided. This tension also appears in Paul. At the same time that he places the summum bonum in Christ alone, Paul is also in agreement with Aristotle on the inherent value of earthly goods; they are needed for embodied human flourishing. Although a person’s complete happiness is found in Christ, that happiness will not be complete until the restoration of all things, physical and spiritual (Rom. 8:23; 2 Cor. 5:4; Aquinas ST I-II, q. 5, a. 3). In the meantime, part of the delight in human life derives from the things God created for people to enjoy as good, and the loss of these legitimate goods is undeniably a sorrow since it results from evil that will one day be no more. Thus, through the lens of comparative worth, Paul is in alignment with Epictetus, but through the lens of inherent worth, he agrees with Aristotle. Nevertheless, even as he validates sorrow, Paul mitigates it with an ordering of gains and losses that parallels Epictetus. For Epictetus, the loss of external things cannot be compared with the greater value that comes from exercising right moral judgement (Diatr. 4.3.1). His first injunction is not to wail at pain, but he modifies that: “I do not say that it is forbidden to groan, but you must not groan from deep within,” 1.18.19). Similarly, Christians should not be undone by sorrow. Paul reminds them that no tribulation or distress can separate them from the love of Christ (Rom. 8: 35), and he tells them that when they grieve, not to do so as those who lack hope (1 Thess. 4:13). In contrast to Epictetus, Paul would acknowledge a loss to be such, but he also engages in the same proportionate accounting as Epictetus, which causes him to count the losses as σκύβαλα in comparison with his desire to know Christ and, through his own losses, to share in Christ’s sufferings (Phil. 3:10). In the end, Paul reckons that affliction is light in weight (2 Cor. 4:17) and that the “sufferings of the present time do not weigh as much as the future glory” (Rom. 8:18; cf. Muir 2022, p. 258).

4. Conclusions

Identifying a τέλος that ensures human flourishing causes Paul and Epictetus to evaluate all other things in light of it. An apparent contradiction appears in both their writings, that physical and temporary things do not matter and also that they have value. In comparison with the greatest good, externals are ἀδιάφορα or even σκύβαλα. However, while Epictetus acknowledges the value of externals when they participate in the ultimate good, unlike Paul, he neither recognizes them as inherently good or evil nor thinks that they are something humans should desire or avoid. On one level, similar to Epictetus, Paul assures Christians that they are completely secure in Christ and can rejoice no matter the circumstances. On another level, Paul views externals as gifts from God, ones that he has affirmed as good from the beginning of creation. Until the new creation, these gifts will properly gladden the hearts of humankind, and their loss that comes through evil will also entail sorrow. Nevertheless, externals cannot serve as an end in themselves, but can only be loved, desired, and sought when they are rightly ordered in relation to Christ. Despite their differences, Paul and Epictetus are working diligently to explain what people should prioritize in life and how they can cope with suffering. In a society that is currently wealthy but not happy, plagued with depression, anxiety, and a lack of purpose, Paul and Epictetus would not provide precisely the same answers to the problem, but they would both suggest the identification and reordering of goods.