Elemental Imagery,Stoic Physics,and Jewish Cosmogony: Enargeia,Synecdoche,and Conceptual Blending in 2 Peter 3

Elemental Theories

The grandest and most exceptional idea of 2 Peter comes in the final third of the work—a depiction of the coming cosmic conflagration. After the author reminds the audience of past encouragement, the author prophesies that there is a future day when mockers—emboldened by their vicious lifestyles—will come and ridicule the idea that there will be a divine reconciliation (2 Pet. 3.3). Their argument will be that days, years, and centuries come and go and there is no justice beyond what humans can deliver (3.4).

This was not only the view of the mockers; it also meshes with the standard (such as it was) cosmological model of an eternal universe advanced by Aristotle (Phys. 251a–252b). The view of the mockers is also similar to the view of Celsus (late 2^nd century), at least according to Origen (Cels. 1.19; 4.13). Thus, while the mockers may scoff at the idea of God’s return for spiritual reasons (e.g., God is not an immanent/relational being, or Jesus is not the Messiah), they may also scoff for scientific reasons (e.g., it is a direct rejection of Aristotelian cosmology). ⁵

The author of 2 Peter then rebuts this view, arguing that it is by the word of God that the heavens exist and the earth was created from water and by water (2 Pet. 3.5). Although this reference is primarily allusive to the biblical creation story (Gen. 1.2, 6, 7, 9), Tord Fornberg (1977: 67) points out that the author’s choice of verb also alludes to Greek cosmogony. Yet it is Jewish cosmology that emphasizes the word and wisdom of God; one can only understand the ‘structure of the world and the activity of the elements’, as well as how time, space, and nature function by close connection to God (Wis. 7.17, NRSV). From this reference to creation, 2 Peter reminds his readers that God has already destroyed the world once, flooding it with water (2 Pet. 3.6). ⁶ Even as God’s word was integral to the creation, so too will this word bring justice by way of fire to the heavens and the earth (3.7). Through the ages, God is patient, not wanting his judgement to come prematurely (3.8–9). Then the author warns the audience: When God does sound the end of the age, he will do so with quickness and stealth—like a thief (3.10). On that day the heavens will roast with crackle and roar, the elements will melt away, and the earth and all its activities will be consumed as if by fire (3.10). All of those who serve God are challenged to live lives of holiness and godliness (3.11), both waiting for and hurrying the coming of God, which will set the heavens on fire and melt the elements (3.12). As a result, those faithful to Jesus can expect new heavens and a new earth, a place where righteousness lives (3.13).

Readers of 2 Peter are immediately struck by the incredible imagery of the coming judgment and the end of the universe (2 Pet. 3.10, 12). To make the vision stick the author delivers to his audience both visual and aural clues. The visual imagery begins with the depiction of creation and destruction (3.5–7) and continues to God’s immanent arrival, using the simile ‘like a thief’ (ὡς κλέπτης) to equate God’s divine reconciliation to the coming of one who surprises, grabs, and flees. Linguistically, this simile evokes a vivid frame that all hearers can visualize. In fact, it is so dissimilar to what the audience may expect of a divine epiphany that the simile could encourage the opposite visualization on the part of the hearer, meaning that the coming of God when it occurs will be plainly obvious and out in the open. ⁷ Either way, the audience imagines a thief and connects this image to the textual figure of speech of God’s coming.

Next the author paints the coming destruction as the heavens and earth roasting alive with crackle and roar (ῥοιζηδόν). This is the imagery of the ekpyrosis, an idea about the end of the world promoted in Stoic thought (Origen, Cels. 5.20). ⁸ Undoubtedly in the ancient world this visual would have tied together urban (or possibly forest) fires with times of red skies and burning sunsets (e.g., Seneca, Nat. 2.14; 2.21). ⁹

Finally, the author adds to the visual imagery of fiery destruction with a description of the dissolution of the elements (στοιχεῖα) from heat and the incineration of the universe and all that it represents (3.10, 12).

Taken together, the author embellishes his warning of God’s coming with enargeia, a rhetorical device where the writer wants what he is describing ‘to pass vividly before our eyes’ (Rhet. Her. 4.55, LCL). The writer’s goal succeeds in this when ‘something from the past or future is made present and, as it were, visibly exhibited’ (Plett 2012: 8). The purpose of the enargeia is to make the author’s warning stick forcefully in the ears, eyes, and mind of the letter’s audience. Enargeia creates for the hearer the illusion of being present to the event described when they are not (Webb 2016: 103–4). To add to this is the author’s onomatopoeic use of ‘roar’ (ῥοιζηδόν) to bring the image to life in the hopes that the hearer will not forget the promises of God (3.4, 9, 13) amidst the repetitious and relentless drumbeat of the coming destruction (λυθήσεται, 3.10; λυομένων, 3.11; λυθήσονται, 3.12) (Watson 1988: 133). ¹⁰ Because the author’s style, register, and motifs are unique, the visual rhetoric of the consummation of the ages at first appears more allusive to Stoic cosmology than Jewish cosmology.

From this we turn to a narrower topic in the interpretation of 2 Peter’s ekpyrosis—the στοιχεῖα, which are most commonly glossed as ‘elements’. ¹¹ Recent scholarship has concluded that there are three possible options for what 2 Peter means when he says that on the day of the Lord the στοιχεῖα will melt and be destroyed:

In sum, a predominant number of scholars who take a position argue for option 2/3 over option 1. (A number of scholars do not take a position; they point to the Hellenistic background in general). The prime difficulty in choosing between the positions is that all three enjoy solid circumstantial support from ancient literature; one can make a reasonable case for each position with an appeal to the use of στοιχεῖον in ancient works. However, in this case, circumstantial support is unneeded, as the most important clue to 2 Peter’s specific use of στοιχεῖον occurs within the text of 2 Peter itself.

The Four Elements

By the Hellenistic period στοιχεῖον possessed a wide semantic range similar to words such as λόγος (Wasserman 2018: 152–53; cf. Crowley 2021: 366–67). Στοιχεῖον could refer to the elementary matter of the universe (e.g., Diogenes Laertius, Lives 1.10; cf. in Latin, Pliny, Nat. 2.4.10), heavenly objects (e.g., Justin, 2 Apol. 5), ¹⁶ spirits or daemons (e.g., Gal. 4.3; Col. 2.8, 20), basic principles (e.g., Heb. 5.12; Diogenes Laertius, Lives 8.11), musical notes and rests (e.g., Philo, Her. 210), letters of the alphabet (e.g., Diogenes Laertius, Lives 7.56; Philo, Mut. 61; Philo, Leg. 1.14), vowels (e.g., Philo, Opif. 126), or grammatical units in sentences (e.g., Philo, Her. 282), and perhaps more. Ancient writers also employed the word as a euphemism, such as in the depiction of cosmological events (e.g., Plutarch, Arist. 6.3) or to describe the human body and its relationship to other humans (e.g., 4 Macc. 12.13; Philo, Aet. 29).

However, the most characteristic use of the word was to refer to the basic building blocks of all that is created (Forbes 2002: 55). Philosophers and scientists greatly debated the creation and sustainment of the universe, including what things were made from. In Greek literature, luminaries such as Anaximenes (fl. 546–525 BCE), Empedocles of Acragas (ca. 492–432 BCE), Anaxagoras (ca. 500–428 BCE), Zeno (fl. early fifth century BCE), Parmenides (fl. mid-fifth century BCE), Plato (ca. 429–347 BCE), Aristotle (384–322 BCE), Chrysippus (ca. 280–207 BCE), and Galen (129–199/216 CE), to name a few, contributed their distinctive take to the discussion. The resulting conclusion, credited first to Empedocles, that became the norm throughout the Greek-speaking world was that there are four primeval elements: ὕδωρ, γῆ, ἀήρ, πῦρ (‘water’, ‘earth’, ‘air’, ‘fire’) (Aristotle, Metaph. 984a, Top. 105b12–18; Gregory 2008: xliii; Crowley 2021). ¹⁷ Timothy Crowley (2021: 357) suggests that it is not the selection of the elements themselves that Aristotle emphasizes, but that there are ‘four, and only four, of them’. These four elements are the indivisible building blocks of the earth, the stars, animals, and people. Though scientific debate continued into the Hellenistic period, the fourfold element scheme was considered ‘accepted science’ by the average thinker (Hine 2010: 7). Several Hellenistic writers even summarized the debate for their readers. ¹⁸ By the time of the writing of 2 Peter, the Greek speaking world was extremely familiar with the basic elements such that they occur regularly throughout extant scientific, poetic, and religious literature.

Although the debate and discussion over the science of the elements in the ancient world is both extensive, technical, and, by modern expectations, obscure, and therefore beyond the scope of this essay, there are a few critical details germane to this discussion. ¹⁹

First, the fourfold element concept was a truism by the Hellenistic period, but due to popular recitations of the debates in Diogenes Laertius, Plutarch, and Philo (ca. 20 BCE–50 CE), some in a first or second century audience would be aware that there were many variations out there. For example, Aristotle famously held that there were five elements, not four—the fifth was αἰθήρ (‘aether’) (Aristotle, Cael. 270b). Aether was similar to air, but distinct, belonging to the higher realm above air, and in some theories, more related to fire than air.

Second, while ancient philosophers had a simple and straightforward understanding of the physical properties of two of the elements (water and earth), the other two (air and fire) were far less understood. Thus, when discussions turned to air and fire the consequence was frequently metaphysical ruminations that drifted into other topics such as the sun, moon, and planets; a possible aether; a possible primordial or consummative element (fire); and the connections to divine beings, the gods, or the demiurge. As a result, air and fire (and aether, when included) tended to have a much wider range of ideas associated with them than water and earth.

Third, because ancient philosophers really did not understand air or fire at all and their discussion drifted into ruminations, they tended to create metaphysical associations with both of these elements in an attempt to explain the element and its purpose in the world. In this way philosophers often linked air to πνεῦμα (in the sense of both ‘breath’ and ‘spirit’) (e.g., Philo, Gig. 22; cf. Pliny, Nat. 2.38.102–103), for example.

Fourth, because the concept of the four elements became a truism, it was not uncommon to see the elements embedded figuratively into stories and events. A great example of this is that both Philo and Josephus (fl. first century CE) claim that the four colors of the tabernacle’s curtains are due to their representation of the four elements (Philo, Mos. 2.88; Josephus, Ant. 3.183; cf. Exod. 26.1). ²⁰ The Gospel of Philip uses the four elements to depict spiritual formation (NHC II 3, 79.18–33).

Last, one of the main philosophical implications of the discussion over the nature of the physical elements was whether the universe was essentially eternal (Plato, Aristotle), or whether the universe had beginnings and ends and was re-creatable (Stoics, possibly 2 Peter). As noted above, the destruction that 2 Peter depicts seems at first hearing as much Stoic as Jewish—perhaps this is because the author chooses a ‘fight fire with fire’ tactic; if the mockers have a scientific rationale, then the author may believe that contesting an Aristotelian view would be easier from a Stoic position than a Jewish one (cf. Adams 2007: 217; and Origen, Cels. 1.19; 5.15).

We are now ready to look again at the στοιχεῖα in 2 Peter. The best evidence that the author uses στοιχεῖον to refer to the fundamental elements (option one above) is that the author explicitly mentions all four elements multiple times in close proximity to στοιχεῖον (while using οὐρανός as a metonym for ἀήρ):

ὅτι οὐρανοὶ ἦσαν ἔκπαλαι καὶ γῆ ἐξ ὕδατος καὶ διʼ ὕδατος συνεστῶσα τῷ τοῦ θεοῦ λόγῳ διʼ ὃν ὁ τότε κόσμος ὕδατι κατακλυσθεὶς ἀπώλετο· οἱ δὲ νῦν οὐρανοὶ καὶ ἡ γῆ τῷ αὐτῷ λόγῳ τεθησαυρισμένοι εἰσὶν πυρὶ τηρούμενοι εἰς ἡμέραν κρίσεως καὶ ἀπωλείας τῶν ἀσεβῶν ἀνθρώπων.

Ἥξει δὲ ἡμέρα κυρίου ὡς κλέπτης, ἐν ᾗ οἱ οὐρανοὶ ῥοιζηδὸν παρελεύσονται, στοιχεῖα δὲ καυσούμενα λυθήσεται, καὶ γῆ καὶ τὰ ἐν αὐτῇ ἔργα οὐχ εὑρεθήσεται.

διʼ ἣν οὐρανοὶ πυρούμενοι λυθήσονται καὶ στοιχεῖα καυσούμενα τήκεται. καινοὺς δὲ οὐρανοὺς καὶ γῆν καινὴν κατὰ τὸ ἐπάγγελμα αὐτοῦ προσδοκῶμεν ἐν οἷς δικαιοσύνη κατοικεῖ. (2 Pet. 3.5b–7, 10, 12b–13)

Five times the author mentions the οὐρανοί (‘heavens’), four times the author mentions γῆ (‘earth’), three times the author mentions ὕδωρ (‘water’), and two times the author mentions πῦρ (‘fire’), all within a short space of text where στοιχεῖα (‘elements’) appear twice. ²¹

The frequent repetition of the elements not only enhances visual imagery for the audience (enargeia); it also is a creative form of synecdoche. Synecdoche, a type of metonymy, is ‘a figure of speech in which an expression referring to a part of some entity is used to refer to the whole entity’ (Brown and Miller 2013: 430). Synecdoche, as a specific form of metonymy, ‘has primarily a referential function’, (Lakoff and Johnson 1980: 36) and in the case of 2 Peter, the author uses the individual elements (γῆ, ὕδωρ, πῦρ, οὐρανοί) to create an image of, while standing in the place of, the whole (στοιχεῖα). Quintilian notes that synecdoche is most useful when it uses a singular to stand in for a plural (Quintilian, Inst. 8.6.19–23). Thus, the author of 2 Peter repeatedly uses γῆ (‘earth’), ὕδωρ (‘water’), and πῦρ (‘fire’) to help the audience refer to (synecdoche [pars pro toto]) and visualize (enargeia) the elements (στοιχεῖα) to which the writer refers—with οὐρανοί (‘heavens’) performing a dual function, discussed below.

In 2 Peter’s day, the truism was that ὕδωρ, γῆ, ἀήρ, πῦρ (‘water’, ‘earth’, ‘air’, ‘fire’) are each a στοιχεῖον. In 2 Pet. 3, we read of ὕδωρ, γῆ, οὐρανοί, πῦρ (‘water’, ‘earth’, ‘heavens’ [as metonym for ἀήρ], ‘fire’), all four elements grouped together with a little poetic reimagining of their meaning and role. In 3.5–6, the author mentions οὐρανοί (‘heavens’), γῆ (‘earth’), and ὕδωρ (‘water’) as part of his creation cosmogony. He leaves out only one element, fire, which is the consummative element in his cosmogony. In 3.7, the author now brings in the fourth element, πῦρ (‘fire’), to explain its special place among the four elements. Thus, 2 Peter primes the hearer with the four elements (meronyms) so that, after passing through the caveat about the Lord’s timing, in the very next sentence comes the mention of the στοιχεῖα (holonym), which the hearer realizes are the four elements just mentioned: water, earth, fire, and heavens (air).

There are three objections one may pose with regard to this insight. The first objection is that 2 Peter does not list the elements in the typical manner of many writers in both Hellenistic and Classical Greek literature. The second is that 2 Peter mentions only three of the four elements (as οὐρανός is not an element). The third is that 2 Peter uses heavens (plural) whereas other writers use heaven (singular). Before proceeding, we will examine each of these objections:

Blending Stoic and Jewish Input Spaces

Blending ideas from two different thought worlds is a common human practice, observable in the earliest human writings (e.g., metaphors in The Epic of Gilgamesh). In the late twentieth century, Gilles Fauconnier and Mark Turner made strides in explaining how blending occurs as part of the human cognitive process, proposing Conceptual Blending Theory (CBT). ³⁵ Recent attempts to apply CBT to biblical texts have proven beneficial (e.g., Sylva 2010: 91–118; Howe 2006; Wassell and Llewelyn 2014). CBT can describe how the author of 2 Peter brings together two different thought worlds to create a vision of the apocalypse that is meaningful to both Greek and Jewish members of the author’s audience (see Figure 1):

OPEN IN VIEWER

Figure 1.

Mapping Spaces

The author of 2 Peter explains the impetus for an apocalyptic pronouncement:

in the last days scoffers will come, scoffing and indulging their own lusts and saying, ‘Where is the promise of his coming? For ever since our ancestors died, all things continue as they were from the beginning of creation’! (2 Pet. 3.3–4, NRSV)

From this, the generic space implied by the author and shared by the scoffers includes the how and when of Jesus’ return, coupled with the cycle of life (including the death of the ancestors) and the telos of the divine creative action. In order to rebut the scoffers, the implied author exhibits two input spaces: Stoic physics and Jewish cosmology. As noted above, the author seems to believe that a dual Stoic- and biblical-powered critique of the scoffers is more potent than any singular critique. The author reconciles these two mental spaces in a blended space that emphasizes that Jesus’ return will result in the dissolution and renewal of both the heavens and the earth (the visible world) and its individual elements (the invisible world). ³⁶ This destruction is better understood as a cosmic purification, where everything will be burned up/melted down to expose its most basic nature (2 Pet. 3.10; cf. Isa. 13.9–10, 13; 2 Clem. 16.3), and rebuilt into a new heavens and a new earth (2 Pet. 3.13; cf. Isa. 66.22).

Conceptual Blending and the Crux Interpretum

In 2 Pet. 3, the author uses figurative language (enargeia and synecdoche) to depict the στοιχεῖα (‘elements’) of popular Greek understanding and then aligns them with the biblical ‘heavens and the earth’ that obeys the will of the Word of God (2 Pet. 3.5). Yet, at the end of this part of 2 Peter lies truly dangerous interpretive waters—the crux interpretum of the conflagration itself (2 Pet. 3.10–13). The text critical issues in 2 Pet. 3.10 alone are so significant as to feel unfathomable. ³⁷ While we cannot solve the interpretive difficulty here, we can propose a few ideas based on the figurative language and the mental spaces that the author of 2 Peter brings into this part of the text. The text reads, with emphasis on the dual motifs:

But the day of the Lord will come like a thief, and then the heavens will pass away with a loud noise, and the elements will be dissolved with fire, and the earth and everything that is done on it will be disclosed. Since all these things are to be dissolved in this way, what sort of persons ought you to be in leading lives of holiness and godliness, waiting for and hastening the coming of the day of God, because of which the heavens will be set ablaze and dissolved, and the elements will melt with fire? But, in accordance with his promise, we wait for new heavens and a new earth, where righteousness is at home. (2 Pet. 3.10–13, NRSV)

As the author draws his apocalyptic ideas to a close, some of the synecdochic meronyms (air, water) disappear, leaving only the holonym ‘elements’ to represent the Stoic input space, the ‘heavens and the earth’ motif to represent the biblical input space, and fire, the ekpyrotic element that the author understands—both substantively and verbally—as the means of transformation in both spaces during the day of the Lord. If we accept that the best possible reading in 3.10 is, following Christian Blumenthal (2007) and Jörg Frey (2008), εὑρεθήσεται (‘will be exposed’), with οὐχ εὑρεθήσεται, κατακαήσεται, and other options more likely to be scribal interpolations, then based on the contours of the mental spaces a more nuanced translation would be:

But the day of the Lord will sneak up like a thief, in which

the heavens will pass away with a roar

(but the elements will be destroyed by burning)

and earth (and all the works on it) will be exposed.

So, all of these things are being destroyed!

What kind of people must you be in a holy and godly way of life, expecting and hastening the advent of the day of God—because of which the heavens—burning—will be destroyed and the elements—also burning—are dissolved?

But we long for new heavens and a new earth, according to his promise, in which righteousness lives!

In this rendering, the δέ in 3.10 returns to its slightly contrastive sense as a coordinating conjunction (note Jerome’s similar use of vero in his Vulgate), thereby juxtaposing the biblical view of the end of time (the heavens pass) with the Stoic view of the end of time (the ekpyrotic fire) for the author’s diverse audience. From this, the author implies that whichever view a hearer holds to—whether ‘heavens’ or ‘elements’—both will burn and be remade in a purifying fire (cf. 1 Cor. 3.12–15), leading to a new heavens and a new earth (2 Pet. 3.12–13). ³⁸

To restate the Petrine author’s argument: Whether one takes a traditional Jewish perspective on the end of time, or the popular Greek philosophical take on the end of time (as echoed in Jewish thinkers such as Philo), or some mixture of the two, the result will be the same: The cosmos will be ‘destroyed’. However, what this destruction intends is another matter; the reception history of 2 Peter includes those who believe this ‘destruction’ is not the end, but the beginning of something new that God has promised for quite some time (e.g., Origen, Eusebius of Emesa [300–359], Oecumenius [6^th century], Thomas Aquinas, and Martin Luther; cf. Rev. 21.5). ³⁹ It will destroy the old way of things, and bring about a new way of things (cf. Rev. 21.3–4). Perhaps this is what 2 Peter hints at when he writes, τούτων οὕτως πάντων λυομένων (‘these things—in this way—all are being destroyed’). This fire is not one of annihilation but purification. Whether accurate or not, what the text does make explicit is that mixed in with all of these apocalyptic figures is the author’s challenging question of how believers in Jesus should live knowing as they do that a new way of life is quickly approaching. It is likely that this question is the rhetorical peak of the argument (cf. Estes 2017: 19–20). While the author’s use of enargeia and synecdoche causes the audience to focus at first on the destruction, to see and put their hope in the future renewal, the purpose is to lead the audience back to the formative question: ‘What kind of people must you be in a holy and godly way of life’?

Conclusion

Second Peter’s grand style and unusual register result in a text with unexpected ideas and motifs when compared to other canonical texts. Near the end of the letter, the author rebuts the arguments of those mocking the idea that Jesus will one day return. To do this the author tries to build social rapport with his audience through phatic language even as he describes what the day of Jesus’ return will look like. This suggests that the eschatological ideas that Peter puts forward may not be well received by his intended audience—or that they will need assurances in the face of a grim idea.

To make the indescribable future describable for the audience, and to convince as wide an audience as possible, the author brings in two different cultural ideas in which to interact. The first idea is the fiery conflagration that represents the end of the world—an end promoted by Stoic physics and accepted to some degree throughout the Hellenistic world. To do this the author of 2 Peter introduces the four-element motif, each element of which contributes to the makeup of the world that God created, and all four together will be witness to the recreation when he returns. The author employs the motif by placing each of the four elements in close proximity as if they are each unrelated parts of the text, but uses synecdoche to allude to their combined role as στοιχεῖα.

The second idea is a take on the Jewish idea of the end of the world, based on creation and its renewal of that creation, the ‘heavens and the earth’. Even as the author portrays air metonymically as the heavens, to fit Jewish-Christian cosmogonic expectations, the author includes the plural form of heavens to fit the standard form of the biblical motif. Perhaps the author did not want to risk hearers’ unfamiliarity with Jewish cosmogony, and therefore have them miss the urgency with which the author wrote.

Thus, no matter which way the letter’s audience imagines the end of the world, they must reject the scoffers who believe it will never happen (cf. Callan 2010: 83). Peter’s rhetoric pushes the audience into visualizing the recreation, which helps to ignore the mockers (2 Pet. 3.3), and thereby listening to what the author wants the audience to hear about the coming day of the Lord, which ultimately is to prod them to think through the answer to the wide-open question, ‘What kind of people must you be in a holy and godly way of life’? (2 Pet. 3.11). 2 Peter’s approach is rhetorically sophisticated, whether or not his command of cosmology was; certainly, it was not ‘simpleminded’ in the way critics suggest other early Christians were (Lapidge 1973: 240–78). As Frey (2017: 457) admits:

Perhaps the author of 2 Peter is not an anachronistic apologist of a dogmatized view of earliest Christianity, but rather a creative author who was aware of current discourses and found his own way to transfer early Christian apocalyptic motifs into his context and time and to phrase the eschatological expectation in a manner that is unprecedented in any other New Testament writing.

2 Peter’s ‘own way’ was to use figurative language and motifs from both Stoic physics and Jewish cosmology so that with either view the hearer held, they would come to realize that the day of the Lord is coming, and evaluate the path of their life, striving to be found pure of character and at peace.