Jerome Murphy-O'Connor, Paul. A Critical Life.
Chapter 5: Learning with the Thessalonians, p. 102-129

(Detailed summary)

We have already dated Paul’s ministry in Macedonia to between September of AD 48 and April of AD 50, a two-year period divided equally between Philippi and Thessalonica. These two communities were probably the ones that brought him the greatest joy. The quality of their community life became a model for Macedonia and Achaia and a source of pride for Paul (1 Thess 1:6–8; Phil 2:14–16). For this to be the case, Paul must have spent a considerable amount of time with these communities so that they could fully assimilate his teaching, which contradicts Luke’s statement that Paul stayed there only three weeks before being expelled by agitators (Acts 17:2–10). The deep affection and trust expressed in 1 Thess 2:13–4:2 point to a prolonged stay. This is confirmed by Phil 4:16, where Paul expresses his gratitude to the Philippians for their financial support on several occasions after he left them to go to Thessalonica.

The cities of Philippi and Thessalonica were connected by the Via Egnatia, a Roman road that ran from the Adriatic Sea to the Bosporus. They were 150 km apart, a distance covered in three days with stops at two inns along the way, which meant daily walks of 46, 48, and 56 km.

Why did Paul leave Thessalonica in April of the year 50? Here, we cannot rely on Luke, who states that Paul had to flee the city at night because the Jews had stirred up the people against him (Acts 17:1–10). We should recall his earlier account of Paul’s departure from Damascus because of the Jews (Acts 9:23–25), an account contradicted by Paul himself, who attributes the cause to the Nabateans (2 Cor 11:32–33). For in Thessalonica, the only hostility toward him documented by Paul himself came from the pagans. Moreover, it was a city with a pagan majority (1 Thess 1:9), and the persecutions experienced by the Christians came from their fellow citizens (1 Thess 2:14). The hostility toward Paul must have begun before his departure, and this was undoubtedly the main reason for leaving the city.

It is not impossible that Paul’s plan was to follow the Via Egnatia westward to the Adriatic, and from there travel to Rome by ship. But it would have been imprudent to remain on the main road where he might have encountered Roman cohorts, since he had been declared persona non grata. This is likely why he headed toward the coast to take a ship southward, toward another Roman province. It is probably such a memory that Acts 17:14 evokes, where Paul, fleeing Berea, heads toward the coast. Paul thus went to Athens (1 Thess 3:1; Acts 17:15), where he was able to take time to catch his breath and reflect on the situation of his converts in Thessalonica.

1. Contacts with Thessalonica

   The New Testament contains two letters to the Thessalonians. Among biblical scholars, there is a debate in which some argue that only one letter was sent to the Thessalonians, while others go so far as to suggest there were four. Each of Paul’s letters typically includes a salutation and a prayer of thanksgiving that gently introduces the theme the apostle intends to develop. However, what is surprising in 1 Thessalonians is the presence of two expressions of thanksgiving: one in 1:1–10 and the other in 2:13–14. Similarly, there are two conclusions: one from 3:11 to 4:2 and the other from 5:23–28. Thus, we would be dealing with two independent letters: on the one hand, 2:13–4:2, and on the other, 1:1–2:12, followed by 4:3–5:8; one has been inserted into the middle of the other; 1 Thessalonians would therefore be a compilation of two letters. This phenomenon is not unique, because, for example, the letter to the Philippians comprises three letters, and 2 Corinthians two letters.

   When two letters are combined, certain parts are inevitably truncated, with the introduction and conclusion sometimes becoming superfluous. This is why the section from 2:13 to 4:2 has neither a normal address nor a normal conclusion, such as wishes for peace, greetings, and a final blessing. But then why was 2:13–4:2 inserted right in the middle of the letter that runs from 1:1 to 2:12, and then from 4:3 to 5:8, rather than at the end, as the letter 2 Cor 10–13 was added to the end of 2 Cor 1–9? It is likely that the final instructions (4:1–2) of the inserted letter fit well with those in 4:3–12 of the other letter. This allowed for harmonization, giving the impression of a single letter.

   If we have two letters, which one was written first? Although the choice remains subjective, there are reasons to believe that 2:13–4:2 was written first, and we will refer to it as Letter A.

   1. Letter A

      This letter is imbued with a deep sense of relief. Paul was deeply concerned (2:17) that persecution (2:14) might force the Thessalonians to renounce Christianity (3:2–5, 6, 7). He would have liked to come to their aid in person, but had been prevented from doing so (2:17). He therefore sent Timothy (3:2), and the good news that Timothy brought him regarding the steadfastness of the Thessalonians (3:6) was the source of the joy Paul was feeling at that time (3:9), and the occasion for this letter. The general tone of Letter A suggests that this was Paul’s first communication with the Thessalonians since his flight. It arose from his own need and was not a response to any communication from the Thessalonians. The persecution, which had begun before Paul’s departure, remained his primary concern. His uncertainty about the outcome is the only explanation for the emotionally charged language in virtually every verse. Letter A is precisely the kind of letter one might have expected Paul to write in response to Timothy’s good news, whereas 1 Thessalonians, in its present form, certainly is not. Finally, the euphoric optimism of this letter stands in striking contrast not only to the tone of Letter B, but also to the ethical directives in 4:3–8, which presuppose that all is not well in the community.

      What time interval should we assume between Paul’s departure from Thessalonica and this first letter? Recall that Paul is in Athens, and the distance from there to Thessalonica is 500 km. Including Timothy’s round trip and the fact that Paul traveled slightly south before reaching Athens, we must calculate a total of 1,500 km of travel, which amounts to about 60 days of walking at a rate of 25 km per day. In total, therefore, we must allow for a minimum of ten weeks.

      In the meantime, Paul preached in Athens. His silence regarding converts in that city betrays his lack of success, which Luke confirms in Acts 17. It is not impossible that his anxiety while awaiting news from Timothy hindered his zeal in preaching.

   2. The Move to Corinth

      Paul headed for Corinth after being joined by Timothy (2 Cor 1:19; Acts 18:1), which places Silvanus, Timothy, and Paul—the co-authors of Letter B—in that city at the time of its founding. Why Corinth? Perhaps Corinth had advantages that Athens lacked in Paul’s missionary planning. As he continually moved westward, he likely intended to quickly establish communities and move on, leaving their development and direction to the Holy Spirit. But the experience in Thessalonica made him realize the need for prolonged contact. From then on, the strategy was to establish a base that met two conditions: it must be easy to establish a community there, and communications with the surrounding area must be excellent.

      Within the framework of such a strategy, Athens had to be ruled out and Corinth chosen. Indeed, the city of Athens was but a shadow of its former self. Weakened by the wars against Mithridates in the 1st century BC, it was no longer productive or creative. Having become a mediocre university town, it limited itself to preserving its heritage and tradition, viewing any innovation as a threat. Even as a center of learning, it was now surpassed by Tarsus. The poverty of its economy was evident in the absence of new buildings. By contrast, Corinth was a booming city, open to the world, much like San Francisco during the Gold Rush. Julius Caesar’s decision in 44 BC to refound the city—which his predecessors had sacked a century earlier—was motivated by the legendary reputation for “wealth” that the city enjoyed. The new colony quickly lived up to expectations, and within two generations, it had become the most important commercial center in the eastern Mediterranean. All its wealth was fresh money. Even those who, in Paul’s time, had inherited wealth were close enough to their origins to know where it came from. In contrast to Athens’ complacency, Corinth questioned everything. It was still a city of self-made men, living for the future. New ideas were guaranteed to be heard, not necessarily out of intellectual curiosity, but because profit could be found in the most unexpected places.

      Thus, the city of Corinth met one of the criteria of its strategy: having excellent means of communication. For it was one of the great crossroads of the ancient world, and even setting aside the flowery language, the praise that Aelius Aristides lavishes on Corinth contains a great deal of truth:

      [Corinth] welcomes all cities and sends them on their way, and it is a common refuge for all, like a sort of road or passageway for all humanity, whatever the destination, and it is a city common to all Greeks, indeed, as if it were a sort of metropolis and mother in this regard (Orations 46:24)

      Traffic entering, leaving, and passing through the city was intense. It was situated on the land bridge connecting Greece to the Peloponnese. Ships shuttled back and forth between Asia and Europe. Paul had the opportunity to influence people from a wide variety of different regions, and converts could bring the Gospel back to their own people. Travelers heading in all directions provided a measure of security for Paul’s messengers.

      Paul tells us nothing about his founding visit to Corinth, except that he was accompanied by Silvanus and Timothy (2 Cor 1:19). And it was there that he wrote his Second Letter to the Thessalonians, while staying with Prisca and Aquila.

   3. Letter B

      In this letter, which spans 1:1–2:12 and 4:3–5:28 of 1 Thessalonians—where a calm tone has replaced the fervor of Letter A—Paul is sparing with his praise. His primary focus is on how his missionary work has been perceived and on defending the authenticity of his motives. Then, when his focus turns to the Thessalonians, he details what constitutes the behavior of a true Christian, before addressing the question of those who have died before Christ’s return. It should be noted that at no point in this letter does Paul express a desire to see the Thessalonians again. This is easy to understand given that Paul’s attention is absorbed by the fledgling community in Corinth, even though he still feels responsible for the community in Thessalonica.

      The emotional distance between Letter A and Letter B implies that a considerable amount of time separates the two. This hypothesis is confirmed by indications in Letter B that contacts existed between the churches of Thessalonica and Corinth, independent of Paul: the fact that the community life in Thessalonica had become known to the Corinthians, as mentioned in 1 Thess 1:7–8, implies that some Corinthians had traveled north and reported to Paul how much he was still appreciated in Thessalonica (1:9; cf. 3:6). It was likely these same individuals who also conveyed to him the information he elaborates on in the body of the letter.

   4. 2 Thessalonians

      The authenticity of 2 Thessalonians is a matter of debate among biblical scholars. Some argue that this letter was not written by Paul, but by one of his disciples toward the end of the first century, based on its style and vocabulary. It has even been suggested that this disciple borrowed the structure and language of 1 Thessalonians, a typical sign of a forgery. When used objectively, however, such evidence proves that 2 Thessalonians is more at home in the Pauline corpus than 1 Thessalonians or 1 Corinthians. The similarity between 1 and 2 Thessalonians was also mentioned as evidence that the latter was a forgery. But when we compare, for example, 2 Thessalonians with Letter B, the similarities are in fact limited to the reference to the Lord’s return (2 Thess 2:1–12 || 1 Thess 5:1–11), followed by an ethical exhortation (2 Thess 3:6–15 || 1 Thess 5:12–22). This argument is so weak that it is better to accept the traditional attribution of 2 Thessalonians to Paul. The similarities with the preceding letters can be explained by the need to revisit the same topics, which implies the same language: doctrinal points followed by exhortations.

      Now comes the question: when was this letter written? In 2 Thess 2:15, Paul writes: “So then, brothers, stand firm and hold fast to the traditions that we taught you, whether by word of mouth or by letter.” Paul is referring to a Previous Letter. It cannot be Letter A, which contains nothing regarding traditions. It must therefore be Letter B. This is confirmed by 2 Cor 3:17: “The greeting is in my own hand, Paul’s. I sign every letter this way: this is my handwriting”; the Thessalonians had therefore previously received at least one letter from Paul. But why this new letter? In 2 Thessalonians 2:2, Paul writes: “Do not be quickly shaken in mind or alarmed by any prophecy, word, or letter supposedly from us, claiming that the day of the Lord has already come.” Some have interpreted this statement by Paul as an allusion to forgers who had fabricated a letter purported to be from Paul. But it is more likely that Paul was referring to a Previous Letter that had been misinterpreted. And in fact, we can identify two passages in Letter B that could be misunderstood. For example, 1 Thessalonians 5:2: “You yourselves know perfectly well: the day of the Lord comes like a thief in the night.” While Paul is certainly referring to a future time, some have interpreted the present tense “comes” as asserting that the Lord is already here, but in secret, and that the absence of persecution is a sign of his presence. Similarly, in 1 Thessalonians 5:9–10, Paul writes: “For God did not appoint us to suffer wrath, but to receive salvation through our Lord Jesus Christ, who died for us so that, whether we are awake or asleep, we may live together with him.” Some Thessalonians may have concluded from this passage that their salvation was guaranteed, and that therefore their moral conduct no longer mattered. It is therefore understandable that Paul could not let these misinterpretations of what he had written go unchallenged; he had to clarify the nature of the eschatological signs that must precede the parousia and refute the idea of a parousia that was already present, hence this letter known as 2 Thessalonians.

      In summary, Paul wrote three letters to the Thessalonians. The first, Letter A, was written from Athens, about ten weeks after his flight from Thessalonica, thus in the spring of the year 50. Letter B was written next, but from Corinth. The interval between these two letters is difficult to calculate, as one must take into account the time required for the converted Corinthians to travel to Thessalonica and back. This may have occurred during the summer of AD 50. It is impossible to determine how and when the news of the misinterpretation of Letter B—which necessitated the sending of a third letter, the Second Epistle to the Thessalonians—reached Paul, but there is no indication that a long interval separated them. The Second Epistle to the Thessalonians may therefore have been written in late summer or early fall of the year 50, or at the latest the following spring.

2. Thessalonica and its Christians

   Thessaloniki owes its name to Thessalonike, the half-sister of Alexander the Great. Her husband, Cassander, founded the city in 316 BC by uniting several villages around the finest natural harbor in northern Greece, at the mouth of the Thermaic Gulf. Rome conquered Macedonia in 167 BC. It became a Roman province in 146 BC, with Thessaloniki as its capital. Its economic prosperity grew considerably in 130 BC with the construction of the Via Egnatia, which connected it to Neapolis to the east and the Adriatic Sea to the west. Strabo, the Greek geographer, described Thessaloniki as the “mother city of what is now Macedonia” due to its larger population.

   1. The Ethos of the City

      From the spring of 49 BC until August of 48 BC, the city was regarded as a second Rome.

      For not only the consuls, even before their departure, but also Pompey, in his capacity as proconsul, had ordered all the senators to accompany him to Thessalonica, on the pretext that the capital was in enemy hands and that they themselves, constituting the Senate, would maintain the form of government wherever they might be. This is why most of the senators and equestrians joined them, some immediately, others later, as did all the cities that had not been subdued by Caesar’s armed forces (Dion Cassius, History 41, 18, 4–5)

      Julius Caesar put an end to such ambitions just as effectively as his own had been crushed by Brutus and Cassius. The latter, in turn, fell to the blows of Octavian and Antony. Thessalonica admired Antony so much that its leaders instituted a new era in his honor. But Antony was defeated by Octavian at Actium in 31 BC. However, Octavian harbored no grudge, and the honors bestowed upon him by the city were rewarded with the recognition of Thessaloniki’s status as a free city.

      The city’s vitality repaired the damage caused by the civil wars. Octavian-Augustus accelerated the process by establishing Roman colonies there. This development could only benefit Thessaloniki, given its port at Neapolis and its location on the Via Egnatia. The city of Thessaloniki wielded such influence in Rome that in the year 15 it succeeded in changing the system of proconsular government to one directly under the emperor, thereby putting an end to the rapacious governors who had enriched themselves through taxes. In the year 44, Emperor Claudius once again granted Macedonia its independence, separating it from Moesia and placing it under senatorial control.

      This special relationship between Thessalonica and Rome is illustrated by the acceptance of Julius Caesar’s divinity and the construction of a temple to Caesar, whose priest reported directly to the emperor. At the beginning of the 1st century, Roman benefactors were honored by the clergy and were perceived as the channel of the goddess Roma. A hierarchy could be discerned within this entire cultic structure: first the priest of Augustus, then the priests of the city’s various gods, and finally the cult of Roma. The preeminence of Roman-inspired cults clearly indicates that civic life was dominated by those whom the city’s native inhabitants regarded as foreigners.

      Although the Romans exercised political and ideological control, they constituted only one component of the city’s elite. A municipal cult of the Egyptian gods was also practiced there, and its officials had established a dinner club resembling a prestigious social circle, under the patronage of Anubis. If Thessalonica maintained such contacts with Egypt, one can assume that it maintained equally close relations with the other merchant cities of the eastern Mediterranean, whose pantheons are well represented. Profit was the unifying factor of a merchant class whose members came from everywhere except the city where they earned their living. The native population was thus excluded from the decision-making process by foreigners and cut off from the sources of true wealth, in which it participated as wage laborers or, even more indirectly, as slaves.

   2. Converting the Proletariat

      According to the letters to the Thessalonians, the Christians in that community came from the working class (1 Thess 4:1: “Make it your aim to lead a quiet life… and to work with your hands”). This point is confirmed by 2 Thess 3:12 when Paul addresses those who have stopped working in anticipation of the Parousia: “Let them work in peace and eat the bread they have earned themselves.” This great poverty of the community would explain why Paul had to work with his own hands “with toil and hardship, night and day” (2 Thess 3:8; see also 1 Thess 2:9) so as not to be a burden to them; moreover, financial support was also needed from the community in Philippi (Phil 4:16). We note the absence of a wealthy patron who could host the community in his villa, as seen, for example, in Corinth. Thus, when the community gathers, everyone must contribute to the communal meal; this leads Paul to say that if anyone refuses to work, they should be denied food at these gatherings (2 Thess 3:10).

      Thus, the workshop where Paul worked was his place of ministry. We assume there was a good demand for tents or leather goods in the city, where many traveling merchants passed through. This workshop must have been located on a busy street or in the marketplace. But we do not know whether Paul was employed by someone else, self-employed, or had assistants. On the other hand, we know that a craftsman typically worked twelve hours a day, seven days a week, for an income that barely provided for his own and his family’s subsistence.

      In this context, how was Paul able to win converts? He likely filled a spiritual void among this working class. Recall that the cult of the Cabiri, a mystery religion, was very popular in Thessalonica. A legendary tale of this cult recounted that a young man, killed by his two brothers, would return to come to the aid of the powerless in Thessalonica. Symbolized by the hammer, he was invoked to bless manual labor, and gave this working class a sense of security and freedom. But in the time of Augustus, the elite took control of this cult and incorporated it into the city’s official religion. All of this left the working class orphaned, all the more so since the elite were regarded as a foreign group. And not only did they deny the indigenous population the democratic equality that the Greeks considered their inalienable right, but they monopolized the sources of profit and, now, they have deprived the poor of their only traditional divine friend.

      One can imagine the impact of Paul’s preaching, which speaks of a young man put to death, then resurrected, and who now has the power to fill the world with his blessings. While such preaching was well received, the same could not be said of the municipal authorities. For the mention of a new “god,” capable of radically transforming the fate of the most destitute, was perceived as subversive. Had the movement taken root and grown, it would have threatened the social fabric. As ridiculous as the crucified Jesus of Nazareth might have seemed as a “god” in the eyes of the Romans or the refined Greeks, the ruling class was politically astute enough to recognize the danger posed by an uncontrollable “god” who eluded the structures of civic religion. He could serve as a rallying point for a proletariat that was, by definition, dissatisfied. His message could amplify thwarted ambitions. Under his impetus, the beginnings of discontent could turn into revolutionary action.

      The impact of the authorities’ hostility must have surprised the Christians, who expected that their new situation under the protection of the risen Christ would exempt them from the endemic violence of the past. Their reaction was not one of fear or cowardice, but of incomprehension. The awareness of the potentially disastrous consequences of such disorientation—namely, a disappointment so profound that it leads to the abandonment of the faith—explains why Paul was so concerned about the steadfastness of the Thessalonians. If they felt they had been deceived, all was lost.

3. Maintenance Differs from Mission

   Letter A expresses Paul’s relief after Timothy informed him that the community, though shaken by recent events, had remained faithful. Unfortunately, this letter tells us nothing else about the community’s situation. It is only in Letter B that we learn more. How did Paul handle this situation at this stage of his ministry?

   1. Remembering his own Experience as a New Convert

      We know that when someone joins a new group, whether religious or social, they first experience a period of upheaval and disruption that can lead to feelings of confusion, despondency, or discouragement. This sense of rupture is all the more significant because it involves a break from traditional religion and customs, as well as from family and friends, and because this rupture invites public criticism. It is therefore important for the group or sect to define its identity and its approach to integrating new members. Paul must have been aware of all this. Even though, through his education, he knew of the existence of philosophical groups and their recruitment techniques, it was likely based on his own experience that Paul understood what the Thessalonian community was going through. Let us not forget that Paul underwent two conversion experiences: first by becoming a Pharisee, and then by becoming a Christian. Thus, when he tells the Thessalonians that they received “the Word in the midst of great distress, with the joy of the Holy Spirit ” (1 Thess 1:6), he may be referring to his own ambivalence—first the sense of losing a world he must leave behind, and at the same time the satisfaction of doing God’s will.

      What enables one to get through such a difficult period? Community support. This is what Paul experienced when he became a Pharisee, and later when he became a Christian and joined the community in Damascus. Thus, he presents himself to the Thessalonians as a “father” (1 Thess 2:11) and as a mother nursing her children (1 Thess 2:7), and emphasizes the fraternal bonds that unite them in order to convey a sense of security. Likewise, he knows from experience the importance of having a role model. For this choice of a new life is not the result of logical reasoning, but of a leap of faith driven by a mysterious impulse. This leap is justified by the example of lives that demonstrate the fruits of this new direction, but embody what it entails. Thus, Paul was fully aware of his responsibility to be a role model for the Thessalonians (1 Thess 1:6, 2:9; 2 Thess 3:7, 9).

      If Paul sought to be a role model for the community, why was he attacked? One would search in vain for the details of the criticisms in the two letters to the Thessalonians. The tension between the sweeping defence and the passionless tone in these letters suggests that Paul had become aware that he was the object of criticism, but knew none of the details. Only this explains his concern to refute all possible accusations without giving weight to any one in particular. His insistence in response to what must have been a hint rather than a report betrays a sensitivity to criticism, which is rather curious in a man of 50 who has been an active missionary for over ten years. This may have been a personality trait, but it was also the other side of his identification identification with his message. If he exemplified the gospel (2 Cor 4: 10–11), then any attack on him was an affront to the word of God, which justified—necessitated?—a response.

   2. Learning on the Job

      The most likely source of the Thessalonians’ criticism of Paul concerns his teaching on the end times, eschatology. Letter B makes no sense unless Paul taught them a fulfilled eschatology. Of course, they heard what they wanted to hear. And one can imagine that if they were so receptive to Paul’s preaching, it was because there was a connection between that preaching and their deepest desires, even if their interpretation of what he said was partly distorted. And Paul himself, with his impetuous temperament, may have used ambiguous language and exaggerated certain points.

      The possibility of misinterpretation can be illustrated by this passage from 1 Thess 1:9b–10, which reflects the substance of his preaching and consists of two stanzas, each with three lines:

      you turned to God from idols
      to serve a living and true God
      and to wait for his Son from heaven,
      whom he raised from the dead
      Jesus, who rescues us
      from the coming wrath.

      At first glance, the meaning of this passage seems clear. But it all depends on where we place the emphasis. If we emphasize “wait for his Son from heaven,” we are in the context of a future eschatology. But if we emphasize “rescues us from wrath,” we are in the context of a fulfilled eschatology. One might even argue that the second stanza interprets the first, and thus that the dominant theme is the liberation already brought by the risen Jesus, present in the world. This is what the Thessalonians may have understood, guided by Paul’s enthusiasm.

      Similarly, the death of some members of the community who had been promised a glorious assumption must have created an intolerable problem for the members left behind (1 Thess 4:13); this was not what had been anticipated. Then, the feeling of living in the last days led others to abandon their normal lives, perhaps indulging in sexual excesses, and certainly ceasing to work (1 Thess 4:11; 2 Thess 3:6–12). It was therefore important for Paul to prevent the community from losing its reputation and to direct attention toward what was yet to come, to insist that the Christian creed does not necessarily imply a realized eschatology. Thus, Letter B contains a series of allusions to a future Parousia (1 Thess 1:10; 5:2, 23) in which Paul reassures his readers that their departed loved ones will not be forgotten and will be reunited with the living (1 Thess 4:13–18). Paul’s corrections, however, take place within a context where people were convinced that the Parousia would occur within the present generation. All of this made his task easier in his call to “wait.”

      But the fact remains that Paul did not realize to what extent the Thessalonians were steeped in a realized eschatology, which they regarded as his message. Their reaction was to bring the near future—to which the apostle now wished to draw their attention—into the present (2 Thess 2:2). Another letter—the Second Epistle to the Thessalonians—thus became necessary, in which Paul is compelled to set forth the signs that will precede the coming of the last days (2 Thess 2:3–12). Contrary to what he had stated in 1 Thessalonians 5:2–3, the Day of the Lord will come neither suddenly nor quietly; it will be preceded by major social upheavals.

   3. Exemplary Behaviour

      From his very first visit, Paul taught about the conduct expected within the community. And this conduct was essential to the apostolic mission, regardless of how long the Parousia might be delayed. For the word of God is not merely fine rhetoric, but a powerful word, a transforming word: it is manifested through renewed conduct. Thus, by asking the Thessalonians to imitate him, Paul hopes that the community will be an extension of his missionary work (1 Thess 1:6). It is called to be a model (1 Thess 1:7) and a demonstration of the power of the Spirit in their lives (1 Thess 2:13; 2 Thess 1:4, 11).

      In his Letter A, Paul assumes that the Thessalonians have fully understood his instructions. In his Letter B, he is less optimistic and must issue a reminder summarized in the section 1 Thess 4:3–7, where he contrasts the behavior of believers with that of pagans.

      3 It is God’s will that you should be sanctified: that you should avoid immorality (porneia); 4 that each of you should learn to control your own body in a way that is holy and honorable, 5 not in passionate lust like the pagans, who do not know God; 6 and that in this matter no one should wrong or take advantage of a brother or sister. The Lord will punish all those who commit such sins, as we told you and warned you before. 7 For God did not call us to be impure (akatharsia), but to live a holy life.

      The believer’s way of life is thus described as a state of sanctification (1 Thess. 4:3, 7). The term does not primarily have a moral connotation, but refers to the fact of having been set apart by God and thus having a life dedicated to God. The alternative to sanctification is designated by two terms, porneia (immorality) and akatharsia (impurity). The latter term does not have a sexual meaning, but a cultic one. Together, these two terms refer, for a Jew, to the pagan world, a disordered world. For Paul, unbelievers are not their own masters, but are manipulated by the social and economic forces of their environment, so that they are under the power of Sin (see Rom 3:9) and slaves to Sin (see Rom 6:17). The believer lives in a different environment expressed by the word “brother” (1 Thess 4:6), an environment where lust has no hold.

      The guidelines given in 1 Thess 4:3–7 remain very general: they provide direction without imposing specific obligations. It is up to the Corinthians to discover the lifestyle appropriate to their new being in Christ. Thus, in Letter B, Paul neither imposes nor prohibits any specific act. Even more significantly, his list of commandments includes the essential injunction to “test everything” (1 Thess 5:21a), which places the responsibility for their moral choices back on the Thessalonians. Ultimately, it is their judgment that counts. The implication that the Thessalonians themselves are responsible for managing their own community is also significant. Paul did not consider it his place to dictate their conduct.

      This liberal approach to morality came under heavy pressure when it became evident that some members of the community continued to lead disorderly lives. Note that the adjective “disorderly” and the verb “to instruct” appear more frequently in the Second Letter to the Thessalonians. Paul clearly indicates the course of action he wishes the community to take: to ostracize the unruly. He thus unequivocally shows to outsiders that true Christians do not behave in a reprehensible manner. However, this restraint fades at the very end of the letter. The correlation between the imperative infinitive “do not associate with them” and “if anyone does not obey” in 2 Thessalonians 3:14 clearly indicates that Paul expects them to do exactly what he asks. Imposing a moral decision regarding the effective exclusion of a member of the community constitutes a clear departure from Paul’s practice as it appears in the two preceding letters.

      The fact that Paul does not appoint a representative in Thessalonica to report to him and ensure the execution of his will testifies to his understanding of the nature of his authority and how it should be exercised. This underscores his recognition of the autonomy of the local church, which is accountable to itself. Consequently, it must develop its own leaders.

      At most, Paul can suggest the qualities he deems necessary in these leaders. The Thessalonians must “recognize those who labor among you, who take the initiative to serve you in the Lord and to exhort you” (1 Thess 5:12). Such total devotion to the good of others can only be the fruit of love. Therefore, the only appropriate response is love (1 Thess 5:13). The leaders Paul hopes to see emerge are distinguished neither by their social status nor by particular skills, and the relationship they maintain with others is not based on obedience or deference. Here we see another indication of Paul’s awareness of the radically different nature of the Christian church compared to any secular group. His perception of its true identity will become more refined. At this stage of his ministry, it is clear only that it is a community of love that radiates love (1 Thess 3:12; 4:9–10).

   4. The Paul of the First Letters

      The issues surrounding eschatology in Corinth reveal certain aspects of Paul’s character, foremost among them his difficulty in understanding what goes on in people’s minds. He probably didn’t have time to develop a deep understanding of the Thessalonians’ mindset. It’s possible that the joy he felt at the reception of his initial preaching prevented him from fully realizing the impression he was making. It is therefore not surprising that he was stunned to learn of the impact of his preaching and deeply hurt by the reaction to his attempt to correct the situation. His first attempt to qualify the vision of eschatology held by the Thessalonians was not a success. For the alternative perspective on the future dimension of eschatology was not presented with sufficient vigor and clarity. To avoid completely changing his message, he contented himself with hinting at the new perspective through a parenthetical allusion to the Parousia (1 Thess 1:10; 3:13; 5:2, 23), while giving the Thessalonians leeway to persist in their error with phrases such as: “As for the times and the seasons, brothers, you have no need to have them written to you” (1 Thess 5:1).

      Paul’s naivety in interpersonal relations is highlighted by his astonishment at the Thessalonians’ lack of response to what he considered his invitation—both gentle and firm—formulated in Letter B. He had, however, learned a lesson from this, and his discourse in 2 Thessalonians is clearer and far more convincing. But to extricate himself from a delicate situation, he had to resort to an apocalyptic scenario (2 Thess 2:1–12) as an ad hominem argument.

      The confidence of his moral teaching, on the other hand, is remarkable and reveals a clear vision of the nature of the Christian community. Clearly, he was far more concerned with the community’s actions than with its thoughts, and had devised a strategy in advance. From the very beginning, he understood that for the Church in Thessalonica to bear witness to its mission in a way that would strengthen and extend it, its members had to adopt an exemplary and freely chosen way of life. This intuition was soon reinforced by the conviction that imposing binding precepts would amount to recreating the Mosaic Law for believers, something he absolutely did not want.