Jerome Murphy-O'Connor, Paul. A Critical Life.
Chapter 6: Meetings and Meals: Jerusalem and Antioch, p. 130-157

(Detailed summary)


We do not hear from the Thessalonians again until four years later, when Paul plans to travel to Corinth once more from Ephesus via Macedonia (1 Cor. 16:5). What happened in the meantime?

Paul is thought to have stayed in Corinth for 18 months, a plausible figure given the nature of his relationship with the Corinthians. From Corinth, he is believed to have set sail for Syria and, after landing at Caesarea Maritima, traveled to Jerusalem. This sea voyage must be dated to the end of the summer of 51, since his earlier encounter with Gallio (Acts 18:12) could only have taken place in the middle of the summer, and Luke gives the impression that the voyage occurred before the closure of the shipping season in September. Paul himself tells us that he returned to Jerusalem 14 years after his first visit (Gal 2:1). We must therefore conclude that the visit to Jerusalem mentioned by Luke and the one mentioned by Paul are the same.

During this journey, Prisca and Aquila accompanied Paul, who left them in Ephesus. It should be noted that Prisca and Aquila appear almost always with Paul, first in Corinth, then later in Ephesus (1 Cor 16:19), and they will precede him to Rome (Rom 16:3–4). In other words, Prisca and Aquila appear in the same cities as Paul and in the same order. If, as seems likely, their role in Rome was to prepare for Paul’s arrival, is it not plausible that he sent them to Ephesus for the same reason?

  1. The Jerusalem Conference

    1. From Antioch to Jerusalem

      When Paul left Ephesus, did he go directly to Jerusalem after stopping in Caesarea by the Sea? That is what Luke states (Acts 18:22). But Luke is bound by his theological framework, which links Paul’s mission to the Gentiles in Europe to a mandate from the church in Jerusalem, issued during the conference held there; and therefore, this conference must have taken place before Paul’s mission to Europe. But in reality, the mission to Europe precedes his second visit to Jerusalem, and his letter to the Galatians clearly states that he was never an emissary of the church in Jerusalem. And when he wrote his two letters to the Thessalonians, his missionary work was carried out under the auspices of the church of Antioch. His relationship with this church continued until the incident he describes in Galatians 2:11–14. We must therefore assume that Paul, after leaving Ephesus, went to Antioch, his home base, and not to Jerusalem.

      Our hypothesis is confirmed by the fact that Barnabas was with Paul at the Jerusalem conference (Gal 2:1). But Paul never mentions that Barnabas accompanied him during the founding of the churches in Philippi, Thessalonica, and Corinth. And Luke himself reveals that Paul and Barnabas quarreled over Mark before this missionary journey to Europe, and each went his own way (Acts 15:36–41). If Barnabas did not accompany Paul on this journey to Europe, where did they meet? The most plausible hypothesis is in Antioch, which was the home base for both Barnabas and Paul (see Acts 13:1–3; Gal 2:11–14).

    2. The Occasion of the Conference

      It will become clear that Barnabas and Paul went to Jerusalem as delegates of the church in Antioch. In Galatians 2:2, however, Paul insists that he went there following a revelation. It is possible that Paul invoked this reason to refute his opponents’ accusation that by going there he was acknowledging the superiority of the apostles in Jerusalem, and thus implicitly that he was subject to them. But practically speaking, there must have been very serious reasons for two missionaries to put their work on hold to attend this meeting.

      Why, then, did Paul go to Jerusalem? The reason can be found in the somewhat confusing text of Galatians 2:4–5, which addresses the question of the obligation of circumcision for converts from paganism: “It was because of the false brothers, intruders who, having slipped in, were spying on our freedom—the freedom we have in Christ Jesus—in order to enslave us. We did not yield to them, not even for a moment, so that the truth of the Gospel might be preserved for you.” Paul likely had in mind the proponents of circumcision among the Christians in Jerusalem who had come to Antioch to disrupt a community to which they did not belong. The debate was therefore transferred to Jerusalem, where the proponents of circumcision presented their arguments. On this point, Luke’s account is to be preferred over Paul’s.

      Then certain individuals came down from Judea and were teaching the brothers, “Unless you are circumcised according to the custom of Moses, you cannot be saved.” And after Paul and Barnabas had no small dissension and debate with them, Paul and Barnabas and some of the others were appointed to go up to Jerusalem to discuss this question with the apostles and the elders (Acts 15:1-2)

      Barnabas and Paul were therefore chosen by the community in Antioch to serve as delegates to Jerusalem. Paul’s account in Galatians 2:2 may be due to his desire to distance himself from both the church in Antioch and the one in Jerusalem, especially after his conflict with Peter. Paul also insists that the presence of Law-observing missionaries, who attacked his preaching in Antioch and later in Galatia, Macedonia, and Corinth, was motivated by less-than-praiseworthy reasons. But he does not specify these reasons. What is clear is that he considered this to be a threat to his life’s work. This danger was all the greater because Paul clearly perceived that their theology was not without foundation.

      What is this theology? For a Jew, including Paul, salvation is linked to belonging to the chosen people, who honor a single God and to whom God has sent his Messiah. The question regarding the Gentiles thus became: how to integrate them into God’s messianic people? Paul’s opponents could point out that Jesus had obeyed the Law—for example, by making his annual pilgrimages to Jerusalem—that he himself had proclaimed the eternal value of the Law (Mt 5:18–19), and that he had recommended obedience to it (Mk 1:40–45). It was therefore natural that those converting to Christianity should do the same as those converting to Judaism. This view is expressed in the Jewish-Christian pseudepigraph The Letter of Peter to James:

      Some from among the Gentiles have rejected my [Peter’s] lawful preaching and have preferred a lawless and absurd doctrine of the man who is my enemy [Paul]. And indeed some have attempted, while I am still alive, to distort my words by interpretations of many sorts, as if I taught the dissolution of the law and, although I was of this opinion, did not express it openly. But that may God forbid! For to do such a thing means to act contrary to the law of God which was made known by Moses and was confirmed by our Lord in its everlasting continuance. For he said, ‘The heavens and the earth will pass away, but one jot or one tittle shall not pass away from the law’ (2:3-5).

      Given the intense eschatological atmosphere of the Jesus movement, it is unlikely that the first generation of Christians would have questioned Jerusalem’s central role, especially since, with the Parousia imminent, there was not enough time to convert all the Gentiles. Such a perspective failed to take into account the extraordinary appeal of the Gospel to the Gentiles, especially in Antioch, where conversion required only faith in Jesus Christ. All of this clashed head-on with the vision of observant Jewish Christians, for whom the church was meant to be the full fulfillment of Judaism. And if Gentiles were allowed to enter the community without becoming Jewish, this would imply that they themselves would become a minority within an institution whose only ties to Judaism would be that (1) the founders and the first generations were Jewish, and (2) the recognition of the Old Testament’s role as a testimony to God’s preparatory work for the coming of Jesus Christ. For many Jewish Christians who observed the Law, this could not be allowed.

      For these Jewish Christians, there were two possible and non-mutually exclusive paths: to challenge the validity of the Pauline approach and to convert Gentiles who agreed to be circumcised. This latter aspect is reflected in the apocryphal work Recognitions of Pseudo-Clement:

      It was necessary that the Gentiles should be called into the place of those [Jews] who did not believe [in Jesus as the Messiah], so that the number might be filled up which had been shown [by God] to Abraham. Thus the preaching of the blessed Kingdom of God is sent into all the world (1:42:1)

      The reference to Abraham alludes to Genesis 12:3, where Yahweh promises that through Abraham all the nations of the earth will be blessed—a promise that Ben Sirah (44:21) interprets as a pledge to bless all nations through his descendants. Thus, Law-observant Jewish Christians viewed this promise as sufficient justification for a mission among non-Jews. The coming of the Messiah in the person of Jesus of Nazareth marked the providential moment when the privileges of election and the covenant were to be extended to the Gentiles, but obviously under the same conditions that governed their enjoyment by the Jews, namely, observance of the Law. Thus arose among Jewish Christians a movement aimed at inviting non-Jews to a Jewish way of life rooted in faith in Jesus.

    3. The Meeting in Jerusalem

      What was likely a long, complicated, and stormy encounter is summarized by Paul in two verses:

      I went up in response to a revelation. Then I laid before them (though only in a private meeting with the acknowledged leaders) the gospel that I proclaim among the gentiles, in order to make sure that I was not running, or had not run, in vain. But even Titus, who was with me, was not compelled to be circumcised, though he was a Greek (Ga 2, 2-3)

      Paul briefly outlines the problem and the solution.

      1. The problem

        "the gospel that I proclaim among the gentiles". This gospel boils down to faith in Jesus Christ as the sole condition for salvation. Paul does not say that obedience to the Law is wrong, but that it is not necessary. It is unclear whether there were two meetings—one with the entire community, followed by another with the group of decision-makers identified as James, Cephas, and John (Gal 2:2)—or only the latter group. In any case, it was this latter group that made the decision on behalf of the community.

        By writing “I laid before them…,” Paul implicitly acknowledges the authority of the church in Jerusalem, even as he downplays the authority of the decision-makers by calling them “acknowledged leaders”. He must therefore await their verdict, even though the stakes are very high for him: even if he was convinced he was right based on the call he received from Christ at his conversion, a negative decision from the three could destroy everything he had accomplished and block his future ministry; emissaries could then be sent to the communities founded by Paul to inform them that Paul was acting on his own, an outsider who did not represent the Church, since the true disciples of Jesus observed the Law.

      2. The solution

        “But even Titus, my companion, a Greek, was not compelled to be circumcised.” This means that circumcision is not necessary for salvation. Some biblical scholars have wondered whether Titus might not have been circumcised even though he was not required to, since this is what Luke states in Acts 16:3, where Paul had Titus circumcised under pressure from the Jews. Furthermore, in some manuscripts of Galatians 2:5, “To these people we did not (oude) yield, not even for a moment,” the negative particle oude is missing, so that Paul would appear to be saying, “To these people we yielded.” But textual criticism has shown that the absence of oude in certain manuscripts stems from the scribe’s effort to harmonize this verse with Acts 16:3. And so the consensus is to maintain that Titus was never circumcised.

  2. Why Did James Agree with Paul on Circumcision

    We must rule out from the outset the possibility that James held a favorable bias, given his subsequent activities in Antioch, where he supported the observance of Jewish traditions. Furthermore, he must have remained open to the argument of the pro-circumcision faction, which saw circumcision as a sign of belonging to the people of the covenant—the divine channel accepted by all Christians as the path to salvation. Similarly, it is unlikely that James, while acknowledging that the Law had been given solely to Israel, would have concluded that it did not apply to converts from paganism; the pro-circumcision faction’s attack on Paul would then be inexplicable.

    If religious reasons cannot explain James’s change of course, then we must look for political reasons. In the first half of the 1st century, relations between the Roman authorities and the Jewish people were fragile. The Jews enjoyed certain privileges clearly and precisely defined by law. But these privileges depended on the emperor’s goodwill and could be revoked at any time. Thus, in the year 19, Tiberius expelled the Jews from Rome on charges of fraud. Similarly, Caligula’s weakness allowed an anti-Semitic movement to arise in Alexandria, Egypt, in the year 38, which massacred Jews and burned synagogues. In the year 40, Caligula sought to erect his own statue in the form of Jupiter in the Holy of Holies in Jerusalem, and this project was abandoned after his assassination in the year 41. His successor, Claudius, closed a synagogue in Rome and expelled its members due to the turmoil caused by discussions surrounding Jesus as the Messiah. In the spring of 45, the Roman procurator Cuspius Fadus locked away the high priest’s liturgical garments following a movement centered on a false messiah. Under the procurator Cumanus (48–52), various provocations initiated by Roman soldiers were recorded. All these incidents fostered a sense of insecurity: the Romans could not be trusted, and the Jewish people could rely only on themselves for defense. This is what happened in the year 51 when Cumanus refused to punish the Samaritans who had massacred Galileans on their way to Jerusalem: their friends and other Jews took revenge on the Samaritans. In short, if the Jews had to rely solely on themselves, it was vital that they remain united to survive.

    In this context, a Jewish Christian was first and foremost a Jew, and secondarily a Christian. The only difference from other Jews was their acceptance of Jesus as the expected Messiah. Even without pressure from their fellow Jews, their instinct would have dictated that the early 50s was the time to affirm, not weaken, Jewish identity. What purpose would the circumcision of non-Jewish converts have served? Clearly the latter. Circumcising these converts amounted to publicly accepting them as Jews, even though they had no attachment to Judaism; they were disciples of Christ, not of Moses. What loyalty to the Jewish people could be expected from such individuals when hostile pressures began to mount? In a time of crisis, could a Jewish nationalist truly trust them? Would these nominal Jews be willing to sacrifice their lives for the temple and the Law?

    It is plausible that James asked himself these questions. As leader of the church in Jerusalem, he was influenced not by theological considerations, but by very practical and historical ones: the dilution of Jewish identity. All of this may have led him to be receptive to Paul’s personality and arguments. Just as he had been fourteen years earlier, he could not doubt Paul’s sincerity when he explained the implications of his conversion. Nor could he deny the grace manifested by the number of Gentiles who had accepted Paul’s Gospel. A similar success was likely achieved by Barnabas elsewhere. Such signs of the Holy Spirit’s presence demonstrated the divine will that Gentiles be admitted into the Church as Gentiles. But this perspective had a corollary: to strengthen Jewish identity among Christians of Jewish origin by insisting on strict observance of the Law.

  3. The Agreement

    Paul summarizes the Jerusalem Agreement as follows:

    and when James and Cephas and John, who were acknowledged pillars, recognized the grace that had been given to me, they gave to Barnabas and me the right hand of fellowship, agreeing that we should go to the gentiles and they to the circumcised. (Gal 2:9)

    The inclusion of Barnabas in the agreement implies two things: first, Paul is just one of several missionaries sent to the Gentiles; second, the exemption from circumcision granted to his converts applied to all the others as well.

    But this agreement did not prevent the Judaizers from disrupting Paul’s mission in Galatia and Corinth. Undoubtedly, the agreement was not without ambiguity. In fact, some biblical scholars have wondered whether the terms of the agreement were primarily geographical, i.e., Paul received the mandate for territories considered pagan, while Peter and the apostles received that for Jewish territories. But this perspective is untenable, as it would imply that Paul and Barnabas were given the mandate for nearly the entire Roman Empire. Other biblical scholars have interpreted the agreement from an ethnic perspective: Paul and Barnabas could only address Gentiles, while the missionaries from Jerusalem could only address Jews. First, it is hard to imagine that the Judaizers would have thus left the field open to Paul among all the Gentiles—that is, the majority of potential listeners to the Gospel—and second, this would imply a ban on Paul entering a synagogue, which no evidence supports; on the contrary, the communities founded by Paul included Jews.

    To fully understand the terms of this agreement, we must return to the issue that was raised: it is not a question of the legitimacy of the mission to the Gentiles, but of the conditions required for the admission of new members into the Church. Jerusalem would therefore have agreed that Paul should require nothing more of new converts than faith in Jesus Christ, which implied that it was not necessary to circumcise them. This implied that other missionaries were free to circumcise their converts. Thus, the focus of the agreement was neither geographical nor ethnic, but a missionary practice.

    In short, Paul and Barnabas were free to accept converts from either paganism or Judaism, just like all the other missionaries. All of this led to mixed communities. Jewish converts were therefore free to continue observing the Law and, if they wished, to circumcise their children. These communities were truly heterogeneous and inherently unstable, as their members followed different rules. Often, what was important to one part of the community was of no importance to the other. If they achieved true unity, it was only as a result of conscious concessions on both sides. Such arrangements were a constant source of tension, as they were constantly subject to renegotiation, as illustrated by the case of the church of Antioch.

  4. The Collection

    Paul concluded the Jerusalem Council as follows:

    They asked only one thing, that we remember the poor, which was actually what I was eager to do (Gal 2:10)

    What is the meaning of this request? Should “poor” be understood in a spiritual sense? In Paul’s writings, the terms “poor” (2 Cor 6:10; Gal 4:9) and “poverty” (2 Cor 8:3) almost always refer to material poverty. This socio-economic meaning is confirmed by the reference to “the poor among the saints in Jerusalem” in Rom 15:26. Thus, a number of Christians were in need. How many? Perhaps a large proportion of the Jerusalem community. Here is what J. Jeremias writes about social conditions in Jerusalem in the 1st century:

    Jerusalem in the time of Jesus was already a centre for mendicancy; it was encouraged because alms-giving was regarded as particularly meritorious when done in the Holy City.… Jerusalem had already in Jesus’ time become a city of idlers, and the considerable proletariat living on the religious importance of the city was one of its most outstanding peculiarities (Jerusalem in the time of Jesus, p. 116)

    The fact that a number of Christians belonged to this category is attested by the passage in the Acts of the Apostles stating that the wealthier members of the community sold their lands and houses to provide for the needs of the less fortunate (Acts 2:45; 4:34–35). Without a steady influx of new wealthy members, this system could only lead to one outcome: the community would run out of money. Since Christians were being persecuted by at least some Jews (Gal 1:22–23), the hope of obtaining aid from traditional Jewish sources was gradually fading. All that remained, therefore, were the rapidly growing churches of Christians of pagan origin, whose members, though not wealthy, were almost certainly better off than the majority of the Jerusalem community.

    In Paul’s statement in Galatians 2:10, note the shift from the plural (“we ought to remember…”) to the singular (“what I took great care…”). The fundamental agreement was between churches: Jerusalem had made a significant concession to the church in Antioch, and it hoped to receive something in return. As a mere emissary from Antioch, Paul bore no personal responsibility for the fundraising. And after his break with the church in Antioch (Gal 2:11–14), he was no longer officially involved. But his conscience dictated otherwise. He knew the social situation in Jerusalem from experience, having lived there for several years, and perhaps he had even hoped that the Jews of the diaspora would do more for the holy city. Now that he had the opportunity to invite those who owed their conversion to him to come to the aid of their brothers in Jerusalem, he likely felt morally obligated to do so. The idea of heaping burning coals on the heads (see Rom 12:20) of those who had put obstacles in his way in Jerusalem may not have been absent.

    With the meeting over, Paul no longer needed to linger in Jerusalem. Strengthened by the confirmation he had received, he was eager to set out and explore new mission territories. Autumn was already well advanced in the year, and it was too late for ships to still be at sea. In any case, the crossing to Europe was always an extremely slow and arduous undertaking. The prevailing wind blew from the west, and the ships of that era were not designed to sail efficiently against the wind. They had to drop anchor when the wind was against them, then struggle to take advantage of the slightest favorable breeze. The decision to travel north by land was inevitable, even though Paul was not required to return to Antioch with Barnabas to report on the conclusions of the Jerusalem conference. By November, the first snows had already fallen on the Anatolian plateau, and crossing the Cilician Gates, while not impossible, was extremely perilous. Consequently, we must assume that Paul and Barnabas spent the winter of 51–52 in Antioch.

  5. Antioch and its Jews

    1. The City of Antioch

      During the period in question, the city was known as Antioch on the Orontes to distinguish it from the fifteen other cities bearing the same name, all of which were founded by Seleucus I Nicator (311–281 BC). It was the third-largest city in the Roman Empire after Rome and Alexandria. The construction of the port of Seleucia in Pieria at the mouth of the Orontes, 32 km west of the city, encouraged the use of the river for trade routes leading to the Fertile Crescent. Its population was an artificial mix of Macedonians, Athenians, and Jews, who joined the local Syrians, who were considered second-class citizens. In the first century, the population numbered at least 100,000. In 64 BC, Pompey made it the capital of the Roman province of Syria. Emperors and kings competed to contribute to its splendor. Thus, Herod the Great commissioned the marble paving of the wide central street and its sidewalks over a length of 3.2 km.

      According to Flavius Josephus (The Jewish War, 7:43–45), there were many Jews in Syria, concentrated in Antioch. But it is difficult to verify this information. Some must have become citizens of the city. As a group, they were considered resident foreigners, forming part of a specific administrative unit within the city. This granted them an official status in the city, though without a say in its affairs. Nevertheless, they remained masters of their own affairs, endowed with clearly defined rights, which in Antioch were publicly inscribed on bronze tablets.

    2. The Foundation of the Church of Antioch

      Paul tells us nothing about its founding. Luke writes: “Some of them, however, who were from Cyprus and Cyrene, when they arrived in Antioch, began to preach the Good News of the Lord Jesus to the Greeks as well” (Acts 11:20). What is certain is that a mixed church existed there by the late 30s. It was in this community that Paul and Barnabas ministered for a year. According to Luke, Barnabas came to Antioch from Jerusalem and subsequently went to Tarsus to recruit Paul (cf. Gal 1:21).

      Luke writes: “And it was in Antioch that the name ‘Christians’ was first applied to the disciples” (Acts 11:26). What is the significance of this designation coming from the mouths of non-believers? In first-century non-Christian sources, the names “Christ” and “Christians” are invariably associated with public disturbances and crimes. This phenomenon can be linked to three incidents that took place in Antioch in 39–40. First, the Greek chronicler John Malalas recounts that several Jews were killed in a pogrom, the unlikely cause of which was a dispute between two circus factions. Next, a pogrom, similar to the one in Alexandria under the prefect Flaccus of Egypt, occurred when Gaius Caligula planned to install his statue in the temple. Finally, there is a mention in Eusebius’s Chronicle that the founder(s) of the Church of Antioch had to leave the city for Rome. All these events share a common thread: the disciples of Jesus were first called Christians in Antioch in connection with unrest among the city’s Jewish population during the third year of Gaius Caligula’s reign (39–40), and this unrest was linked to the preaching of the Gospel and the early days of the church in Antioch. Christian missionaries preached Jesus as the Messiah, which could be interpreted politically as a call for liberation. In the extremely tense climate created by the announcement of Gaius Caligula’s plan to desecrate the temple, Jewish extremists used this as a pretext to stir up opposition to Rome. In doing so, they alienated the people of Antioch, who rose up against them and massacred many residents. When Petronius managed to put an end to the violence, he sought out the instigators. Realizing they would likely be held responsible, the founders of the Church left, leaving behind converts who found themselves branded as troublemakers prone to sedition.

      All of this helps us understand why the Jerusalem community sent Barnabas to Antioch to assist a community that had been severely weakened after its leaders’ departure for Rome: a demoralized community needed to be stabilized. Luke takes the trouble to explain the meaning of his name: “the man of encouragement” (Acts 4:36). In this context, Barnabas’ recruitment of Saul proved to be a masterstroke. For a persecuted community, the symbolic value of a converted persecutor was inestimable. Saul’s presence among the believers in Antioch, weighed down by distress, confirmed the power of the grace promised in the Gospel. God was all-powerful. Hope was reborn.

  6. The Problem of a Mixed Community

    According to the account in the Acts of the Apostles, the Christian community in Antioch was thriving and vibrant. Given that it was composed of a mix of converts from Judaism and paganism, such an achievement is no small feat.

    1. Meeting places and shared meals

      Unlike the Jews, whose synagogues were legally recognized as public gathering places, Christians had to make do with the hospitality offered by the wealthier members of the community. There is no evidence that there were any patricians with large mansions. It is likely that a space problem arose as the community grew. In Antioch, it is estimated that the community consisted of at least 50 people. No ordinary house could accommodate such a number. Moreover, Paul rarely speaks of a gathering of the entire church (Rom 16:23; 1 Cor 14:23). There must therefore have been a number of subgroups, “the church in the house of X” (Rom 16:5; 1 Cor 16:19; Col 4:15; Philem 2). Thus, we must assume that in Antioch, for purely practical reasons, the Christian community consisted of a number of house churches. This offered new converts the advantage of choosing the group they wished to join. Furthermore, it would be unrealistic to think that these groups were composed of both Jews and non-Jews: the tendency was surely toward the creation of house churches of Christians of pagan origin and those of Jewish origin. But there must have been regular and strong ties between these groups.

      An important aspect of these ties was shared meals. In the Near East, a formal shared meal was the basic social event, as sharing food strengthened social bonds and supported ongoing commitment and deep ethical obligations. This means that among Christians, during the Eucharistic ritual, there was also a shared table. This aspect of social life was very prominent in Judaism. Recall that in Pharisaic legislation dating from before the year 70, 229 of a total of 341 rules concern dietary matters. We can assume that all Jews observed certain basic rules, such as the distinction between clean and unclean foods, and the requirement that meat be drained of all its blood. And when Jews and non-Jews were brought together at the same table, there was no problem as long as the Jews brought their own meat and wine.

      What was the situation in Antioch? How could a semblance of unity be maintained? The most likely hypothesis is as follows. When non-Jewish believers dined at the homes of Jews, they accepted the food offered to them, even if the kosher meat did not necessarily suit them. When Jews dined at the homes of non-Jews, they trusted their fellow believers to offer them Jewish food and drink. From the Jewish perspective, such trust constituted a significant concession. Most, if not all, of the meat available outside Jerusalem came from pagan sacrifices, and it was generally assumed that non-Jews would defile Jewish food and drink at the slightest opportunity (Mishnah, Abodah Zarah 5:5). This is why Jews regularly brought their own food when dining at the homes of non-Jews. Furthermore, among the non-Jews were a number of God-fearing people—that is, people who had adopted certain Jewish practices—and meeting Jewish requirements represented only minor concessions. In practice, all they had to do was shop at a Jewish store when hosting Jewish guests and accept the extra cost. Indeed, not only had tithes to be paid on these products to comply with the Law, but it is common knowledge that any product required to meet higher standards than those of the market is inevitably more expensive.

    2. Outside Interference

      According to Galatians 2:12, the delicate balance of this mixed community was disrupted by a delegation from Jerusalem, “people sent by James.” Before their arrival, Peter had no problem eating in the house-churches of non-Jewish Christians. He seems to have continued doing so for a while before stopping completely, “and the other Jews joined him in this hypocrisy, so that even Barnabas was led astray” (Gal 2:13). There was now a barrier between the house-churches.

      What must James’s delegates have insisted on? They likely declared that Jewish Christians should not assume that non-Jewish Christians would offer them Jewish food. This declaration was certainly very hurtful to the non-Jews, especially since some were willing to give them full control of their kitchens. But why such a radical stance on James’s part? It was the same nationalist rationale that led to exempting non-Jewish Christians from circumcision: it is the only way to fully preserve Jewish identity and prevent it from being diluted; a clear separation is required.

      In this context, Peter had to take a public stand. He chose his Jewish roots. This is understandable, since at the Jerusalem Council he was made responsible for the mission to the Jews (Gal 2:8). For Paul, Peter’s motives are unworthy, for it was out of fear of the Jews that he acted (Gal 2:12). But it is possible that Peter’s decision was motivated by a desire to focus on those who needed him most. For the Gentile church was strong and had two dynamic leaders in Paul and Barnabas. In contrast, the Jewish church was facing difficulties that might have escalated with the departure of such a revered figure.

      Peter’s decision strengthened the authority of the delegation from Jerusalem, and of course, the Jewish Christians followed his lead. But what surprised and deeply pained Paul was Barnabas’s decision to do the same. Why? Paul, by using the verb “was persuaded,” suggests that Barnabas’s reasons were emotional: the nationalist appeal likely touched the heart of the Jew within him and made him forget the consequences for the church in Antioch. For him, as for James, social interaction between Jews and non-Jews among Christians was not important.

  7. The Law a Rival to Christ

    This conflict, which erupted right before his eyes, proved providential in forcing him to rethink his vision of mixed communities in house churches in two respects. On the one hand, what had been a concrete practice had to be articulated as a principle: faith in Christ was the foundation, but to be a Christian one had to live out the truth of love, and a community of believers must be united by the bonds of love. On the other hand, community members could no longer be allowed to observe the Law: if even the slightest space is left for it in the local church, it will eventually take over entirely, as happened in Antioch. Paul was on the path to discovering the incompatibility between the Law and Christ.

    Galatians 2:14–21 contains the seeds of what Paul would later develop. Paul’s reasoning defies our logic to some extent. For the delegation from Jerusalem, even if non-Jewish Christians were “in Christ,” they remained sinners, for to a Jew, being non-Jewish and being a sinner are one and the same. In that case, Christ’s death was in vain (Gal 2:21b). Furthermore, if Jewish Christians are also “in Christ,” then this fellowship with non-Jews has made them sinners, and thus Christ has become the agent of sin. All of this is, of course, absurd. Therefore, if non-Jewish Christians are justified, it is not because they have observed the Law, but because of their faith in Christ. And what applies to non-Jews also applies to Jews (Gal 2:21).

    Giving the Law absolute authority, as Paul did as a Pharisee and as the Jews do, amounts to rejecting Christ, the true source of authentic life (Gal 2:20). From now on, it is Christ alone who speaks of God, and no longer the Law. Moreover, the Law has become a dangerous rival to Christ. This is what he observed in Antioch. It was not until five years later, in his letter to the Romans, that he would spell out his critique of the Law in detail. But already in his conduct and in the pastoral instructions he gave to his communities, he had come to the conviction not only that nothing in the Law was binding on believers, but also that the Law as such is no longer valid for the Christian.

  8. Pastoral Instruction

    Paul’s ethical guidelines to the Thessalonians focus on behavior that is freely chosen. He refrains from imposing specific rules on them. It is only when he has no other choice that he asks them not to associate with the unruly (2 Thess 3:1–4), in order to ensure that the church has a positive influence on its surroundings.

    But after the incident in Antioch, Paul could not impose coercive precepts after having denied the Law any authority, especially after stating that obeying the Law made the Christian a transgressor (Gal 2:18). Yet Paul cites two of Jesus’ commandments. The first concerns the prohibition against divorce (1 Cor 7:10), which Paul accepts in a specific case (1 Cor 7:11), not because he feels bound by Jesus’ requirement, but because he disagrees with the reasons given for the divorce; but in another case, he does not feel bound by this commandment and permits divorce (1 Cor 7:15). The second example concerns the commandment that “those who preach the gospel should live by the gospel” (1 Cor 9:14), a commandment that requires the missionary to accept financial support, a commandment that Paul himself will not follow, and so he will continue to provide for his own needs (1 Cor 9:15–18) . Thus, despite all his respect for the Lord’s commandments, Paul’s practice shows that he does not consider them to impose an obligation.

    Nevertheless, Paul sometimes demands that things be done. But immediately afterward, he may introduce a correction, just as he may maintain his position. We can distinguish between the two situations. For example, he speaks in the imperative regarding marital relations (1 Cor 7:5) and generosity toward the poor in Jerusalem (2 Cor 8:7), but in both cases, he immediately adds: “I am not saying this as a command.” On the other hand, the points on which he does not correct himself concern the change in social status after conversion (1 Cor 7:17), the questions raised by the Corinthians (1 Cor 11:34), and the procedures for collecting offerings for Jerusalem (1 Cor 16:1). In other words, Paul takes care to avoid any strictly moral judgment, but does not hesitate to make administrative decisions. The latter concern purely practical matters, while the former touch on interpersonal relationships, which are at the heart of Christian life. On fundamental moral issues, Paul limits himself to giving advice: “I say this for your own good, not to impose a constraint on you ” (1 Cor 7:35).

    Thus, Paul refuses to compel anyone to contribute to the collection for the poor in Jerusalem: “Each of you should give what you have decided in your heart to give, not reluctantly or under compulsion, for God loves a cheerful giver” (2 Cor 9:7). He does the same with Philemon when he asks him to take back his runaway slave Onesimus: “Although I have full authority in Christ to command you to do what is right, I prefer to appeal to you out of love” (Philemon 1:8–9a); then he adds: “but I did not want to do anything without your consent, so that this act of kindness might not appear to be forced, but might come from your own free will” (Philemon 1:14). For Paul, acting under compulsion is not acting freely.

    We now understand Paul’s radical anti-Law stance. He does not want his converts to become slaves to the Law. While he tells them what he expects of them, it is through persuasion and his personal example that he seeks to win their support. It would have been much easier for him to impose the behavior he desired by force. But his experience in Antioch had taught him that acting through binding precepts would inevitably bring him and his converts back under the yoke of the Law. For Paul, there is only “the law of Christ” (Gal 6:2), an expression that means: the law that is Christ. Thus, it is no longer the Jewish Law that embodies God’s will, but the life of Christ, the example and model for all humanity; in other words, the only requirement is that of love, which is fundamentally the fulfillment of the entire Law (Gal 5:14) and the summary of the Christian life (1 Thess 4:9; 1 Cor 13:2).

 

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