Larry L. Welborn, Professor of New Testament and Early Christian
Literature at Fordham University in New York, explores Paul’s Corinthian
correspondence in its Greco-Roman context and uncovers the identity of the
shadowy figure known as the wrongdoer. This fascinating monograph brings
together key aspects of Welborn’s approach to Paul that draws on ancient
politics, friendship discourse, and the material remains of Roman Corinth. With
these, he provides a social and rhetorical analysis of the Corinthian
correspondence that brings to the fore the relational dynamics between Paul and
the Corinthians in a densely argued tour
de force.
The preface starts out with a survey of the textual features that led New
Testament scholars to hold to some form of partition theory for 2 Corinthians
(and to a lesser degree 1 Corinthians). It then goes on to cover the compositional
history of Paul’s Corinthian correspondence. After a brief chapter that
introduces the key aspects of the book, chapter 2 provides a history of
scholarship with regard to the identity of the wrongdoer mentioned in 2 Cor 2:5
and 7:12. Welborn rejects the hypothesis that it is the same person as the
immoral brother mentioned in 1 Cor 5. He does, however, provide a profile of this
individual that also summarizes the findings of scholars who have likewise
argued against the connection with 1 Cor 5: ‘The wrongdoer was a member of the
Corinthian church; he was influenced by Jewish-Christian opponents of Paul; his
offence took place on the occasion of Paul’s second visit to Corinth; the wrong
was an injury in which money was somehow involved; the context of the injurious
action was the collection for the poor saints in Jerusalem; the Corinthians
were somehow complicit in the wrong done to Paul’ (22). This profile is still
not sufficiently determined, so Welborn proceeds. Recognizing that a control is
needed to provide parameters for determining more closely and concretely the
wrongdoers’ identity, Welborn suggests that the following have been missing in
previous attempts to answer this question: first, ‘the social and rhetorical
conventions in which Paul and the Corinthians participated, and by which their
relationships were governed’; and second, key textual data possibly overlooked
from 2 Corinthians (22).
Chapter 3 provides an
exegetical basis for Welborn’s understanding. He demonstrates the nature of the
offence, i.e. Paul has been publically accused of embezzlement in relation to
the collection for the saints in Jerusalem. He elucidates the identity of the
wrongdoer: He was an individual of high status and significant social distance
from Paul, though possibly a former friend, dignified, committed to reason,
appreciative of aristocratic values and of cultured tastes. Third, in regard to
the wrongdoer’s relationship to Paul and others within the Corinthian
congregation, he was a Christ-follower who had a deep sense of belonging to
Christ. He was one whose Christological understanding differed from Paul’s but
aligned closely with expressions of Hellenistic Judaism (Psalms of Solomon 17-18; 2 Cor 10:7). He had strong theological
convictions and was likely responsible for the comparison of Paul with his
rivals. He made these comparisons, however, not for invidious reasons but out
of a sincere desire to understand the differences in theological orientation. He
likely functioned as a/the patron for the Corinthian congregation and had an
overbearing influence within the broader group. He was able to articulate his
theological convictions clearly, and his powers of persuasion likely
contributed to the Corinthians’ complicity in the communal problems described
in these letters.
In chapter 4, Welborn
builds on Marshall’s (1987) work recognizing that, in the undisputed Paulines,
Paul never names his enemies. The example of Augustus’ Res Gestae is mentioned as an instance of the social convention in
which enemies remained unnamed. Welborn extends this by drawing on literary
parallels that are closer in terms of genre to Paul’s letters (Cicero and Dio
Chrysostom). He furthers Marshall’s work by addressing the convention,
especially in conciliatory letters, of not naming one’s friends. The reason?
Today’s friends may be tomorrow’s enemies (219). At this point, Welborn
foreshadows what is to come—the wrongdoer was previously Paul’s friend. In a
search for this person’s identity, Welborn limits his focus to nine individuals
who are named in 1 Corinthians and Romans. Several are quickly set aside, with
four receiving significant attention: Crispus, Gaius, Stephanas, and Erastus.
Stephanas is precluded based on his secondary social status, and Erastus is
dismissed since he is likely a recent convert. Crispus and Gaius are both
possible candidates, but one emerges as slightly more plausible based on the
social convention of hospitality that governed the successful conclusion of
reconciliation. Welborn sees Paul following this social ritual in Rom 16:23,
where he sends greetings from ‘Gaius, my host, and the host of the whole church’.
Thus, Gaius is to be identified as the wrongdoer in 2 Corinthians.
Chapter 5 sets out to create a social profile of Gaius’ personality.
This is based on prosopographic data and a close reading of 1 Cor 1:14; Rom
16:23; 2 Cor 10-13; 1:1-2:13; and 7:5-16. Welborn draws on the resources of
onomastics, epigraphy, and the archaeology of Roman Corinth to round out the
picture of Gaius, his role within the Christ-movement, and his relationship to
Crispus and Erastus. After discussing Paul’s onomastics and setting aside the
idea that Gaius is to be associated with Titus Justus, Welborn, while not
claiming that the epigraphic and numismatic data from Roman Corinth relates directly
to the Gaius who hosted the ekklesia
in Corinth, draws on this material to uncover the social profile of a mid-first
century person with this praenomen.
He provides extensive excursuses on Corinthian persons and houses that provide
key and often difficult to locate information on the archaeology of Corinth.
After setting aside numerous Gaii, he surveys four that can be plausibly
situated in the mid-first century: Gaius Julius Syrus, Gaius Novius Felix,
Gaius Julius Polyaenus, and most importantly Gaius Julius Spartiaticus who
provides an intriguing image of the kind of person Paul’s Gaius might have
been. Next, Welborn sets out to uncover a domestic structure large enough to
include the approximately 100 people he thinks were part of the Christ-movement
in Corinth. He acknowledges that the villa at Anaploga would not have been
large enough to include the group, but he does point to the Casa del Menandro
in Pompeii as an example of a domus
that would have been more than spacious enough for this purpose. Not content
with “archaeology-hindered interpretation” (334), Welborn provides an
intriguing survey of Corinthian houses: the one adjacent to Temple E, the
mosaic house, the Anaploga villa, the Shear villa, and the house of the Opus
Sectile Panel. This final example is the house that Welborn suggests for the
type of domus, located in the kind of
neighborhood, in which someone like Gaius could plausibly host ‘the whole ekklesia’ (355). This also provides a
more concrete context for Welborn’s reconstruction of the problems associated
with the Lord’s supper, including differing expectations of patronage. The
chapter concludes with a summary of Gaius’ portrait and a brief discussion of
the relationships between Gaius, Crispus, and Erastus (who was likely Gaius’
client). Gaius is described as a former God-fearer, and this accounts for his
relationship with Crispus. Importantly for Welborn’s argument, these two were
also likely responsible for the Apollos faction (371-72).
Gaius of Corinth was a man worthy of Paul’s friendship (in the ancient
sense of the word); he was also one capable of enmity, but open to
reconciliation. That is Welborn’s argument in chapter 6, which provides a
retelling of the asymmetrical relationship between Paul and the wrongdoer.
Paul, however, did not leave the accepted Roman practice of friendship
untouched; he sought to transform it from within, and his interaction with the
wrongdoer reveals the various ways he accomplished that (391). Welborn’s expansive
reconstruction of the friendship between Paul and Gaius builds on the canonical
narrative, supported by the archaeological, numismatic, exegetical, and
literary-critical findings of the earlier parts of this monograph and summarized
here in a single account. Welborn details the three ways in which Paul sought
to transform the paradigm of Greco-Roman friendship: (1) He took the initiative
in reconciliation, even though he was the one injured (449). (2) By writing a
therapeutic letter (2 Cor 1:1-2:13; 7:5-16) he sought to rearrange the power
structures and social relations (466). (3) He insisted on extending forgiveness
to the wrongdoer (476). Welborn concludes his story by pointing out that in the
winter of 56 Paul arrived at the house of Gaius (Rom 16:23) and publically
reconciled with his formerly alienated friend. There in his residence he penned
Romans: ‘Paul’s reconciliation with the wrongdoer Gaius created the
psychological conditions for the last and most productive period in Paul’s life
as an apostle of Christ’ (481). With that, the story of Paul and the wrongdoer
comes to a close with an end to their enmity.
A few brief critiques are
in order. The primary weaknesses in Welborn’s argument, ones of which he is
well aware, include: (1) The identification of 2 Corinthians 10-13 as the ‘letter
of tears’ mentioned in 2 Cor 2:3-4—if one rejects this identification, then
much of Welborn’s exegesis is weakened. (2) The heavy reliance on the presence
of singular pronouns and third-person singular verbs in 2 Corinthians 10-13 as
a way to argue for an individual wrongdoer—this can also be construed as a
general reference to a group of wrongdoers. Cranfield (1982) warned about basing
crucial exegetical decisions on these since Paul is rather inconsistent in his use
of person and number. (3) The complex partition theory developed by Welborn in
support of his reconstruction and rhetorical exigency—though densely argued and
quite plausible, if rejected, it casts doubts over his broader argument. However,
he is right to point out that those who wish to counter his claim are obliged
to put forth their own accounting of the literary history of 2 Corinthians and
Paul’s relationship with the Corinthians (xxvii). This landmark monograph in 2
Corinthians scholarship deserves in-depth engagement and will not likely soon
be surpassed as a resource for the social history of Corinth. It is an
important contribution to Pauline scholarship and provides a thorough
accounting for the identity of the wrongdoer along with the complex, difficult,
and strained relationship that is evident between Paul and the Corinthians.
References:
Cranfield,
C. E. B. 1982. “Changes of Person and Number in Paul’s Epistles.” In Paul and Paulinism: Essays in Honour of C.
K. Barrett, edited by M. D. Hooker and S. G. Wilson, 280-89. London: SPCK.
Marshall,
P. 1987. Enmity in Corinth: Social Conventions in Paul's Relations with the
Corinthians. WUNT, 23.
Tübingen: J. C. B. Mohr.
