Abstract
This essay examines the conjecture that the Wisdom of Solomon was heavily influenced by Greek philosophy most notably in the form of Middle Platonism. In stating it this way, an argument is being made that “Middle Platonism” is a better description for the philosophical thought patterns in Wisdom than, for instance, “Greek philosophical thought” generally, or even “Stoicism.” Therefore, the similarities of philosophical thought between Wisdom and the Middle Platonist Plutarch of Chaeroneia are considered, especially in regard to ethics and physics. No efforts have been made to argue that the naïve level of philosophical development within Wisdom is in any way approachable to the advanced level of philosophical development within Plutarch. However, scholars should feel certain in describing Wisdom as a Jewish writing that evinces Middle Platonic thought patterns.
Greek philosophy in the Wisdom of Solomon
This essay examines the conjecture that the Wisdom of Solomon 1 was heavily influenced by Greek philosophy most notably in the form of Middle Platonism. In stating it this way, I am suggesting that “Middle Platonism” is a better description for the philosophical thought patterns in Wisdom than, for instance, “Greek philosophical thought” generally, or even “Stoicism.” Furthermore, in stating it this way, I am not suggesting that Wisdom represents a Middle Platonic text over against a Hellenistic Jewish text. I am not viewing the author’s philosophical and theological convictions in competition. I am simply assuming that the Hellenistic philosophical thought patterns serve as a means for the author to voice his or her theological interests or beliefs. To make my argument effectively, one or two introductory matters will need to be addressed first.
Interest in the wisdom literature of Second Temple Judaism has been growing during the last half century. 2 Within this interesting and exciting corpus of texts, one finds the Greek text of the Wisdom of Solomon. This ancient rhetorical defense of the beliefs and practices of Judaism has interestingly come down to us today as a good example of a highly Hellenized Jewish text. 3 I think it is a fair assumption to conclude that the Wisdom of Solomon can not only be considered a deeply Hellenized literary text, but one that is firmly rooted in Greek philosophical thought. 4 To summarize this balance between Greek and Jewish thought, Karl-Wilhelm Niebuhr writes, “In der Sapienta Salomonis zeigt sich besonders eindrücklich, wie im hellenistischen Judentum eine geistige Integration von ‘Judentum und Hellenismus’ (M. Hengel) vollzogen werden konnte, ohne die identitätsbestimmenden religiösen und ethischen Grundsätze der Biblischen Überlieferung zu verlieren.” 5 As this Torah-respecting, philosophical influence has been examined closely, many scholars have even come to the conclusion that Wisdom offers a good representation for what is being called “middle” Platonic thought—namely Platonism as represented roughly between the time of Antiochus of Ascalon (ca. 130–68 B.C.E.), who re-established the “old” academy, and Plotinus, the founder of Neo-Platonism (ca. 205–270 C.E.). 6 As a result, several studies have emerged more recently comparing Wisdom to other similar Alexandrian and Hellenistic Jewish texts and authors such as Aristobulus, Pseudo-Hecataeus, Artapanus, Ezekiel the Tragedian, the Letter of Aristeas, Philo of Alexandria, Pseudo-Phocylides, and 4 Maccabees, with Philo receiving the most attention. 7 Of course, the connections to Philo have drawn the most attention considering that Philo—along with Antiochus of Ascalon and Eudorus—are all closely associated with the Middle Platonism of Alexandria, Egypt. 8 These studies have proven fruitful.
In recent publications, scholars appear to be comfortable with referring to Wisdom as a Hellenistic Jewish text under the influence of Greek philosophical movements, and in particular referencing examples of Middle Platonism, Stoicism, and Epicureanism. 9 One of the more recent in-depth treatments of the subject has been completed by Niebuhr.
Niehbuhr focuses his study upon five different Jewish Hellenistic (groups of) texts: Aristobulus, Philo, Pseudo-Phocylides, 4 Maccabees, and finally devoting most of his time to three distinct sections of Wisdom (i.e., Wis 1.16–2.24; 2:23–3.9; 7.15–30). In particular, he first provides a brief introduction to the Wisdom of Solomon and then links this to the thesis of his essay, in essence, arguing that the major Greco-Roman Hellenistic ideas within Wisdom are nothing more than “philosophische Mittel zum paränetischen Zweck.” 10 The main concerns for Wisdom have to do with the “Ermahnung und Ermutigung ihrer (vorwiegend jüdischen) Adressaten” in understanding their life and cultural context primarily by seeing it through the lens of Torah. 11 Then, Niebuhr orients the readers of his article to the major contemporary philosophical schools and their major ideas. To be specific, Niebuhr is addressing ideas stemming from the classical Greek schools of the Academy, the Peripatos, the Stoa, and Epicureanism pertaining to major systematic categories of physics, logic, and ethics and the subsequent discussions of such things as ontology, epistemology, natural philosophy, and so forth. Following this is a section particularly devoted to Middle Platonism of the period, and finally an examination of the five distinct Jewish texts and authors mentioned at the beginning of this paragraph. One or two words must be devoted to his findings as pertains to the “Philosophische Traditionen in der Sapientia Salomonis,” and in particular I am drawing attention to his conclusions pertaining to the philosophical traditions. From the three specific texts, as noted above, Niebuhr suggests that none of the three texts represent exactly a specific Greco-Roman philosophical school, nor do they represent an argumentation specifically against any particular schools. He suggests that Wisdom 1.16–2.24 represents a good text presenting the ethical consequences of epicureanism, while advocating a somewhat “stoisch oder platonisch gefärbter anti-epikureischer Polemik”, it is nevertheless clearly not an overt philosophical discussion and is being subverted to rhetorical purposes found in the overall intentions of the Jewish author. 12 He argues similarly in regard to the other two texts: Wis 2.23–3.9 and Wis 7.15–30. The former is described as representing biblical ideas expressed within platonic-philosophical terminology. 13 In reference to the subject of God’s creation and Wisdom, the latter (i.e., Wis 7.15–30) demonstrates close affinities with Middle Platonism in particular. 14 For my purposes, I think it is worth noting that Niebuhr’s article shows that Wisdom seems to be demonstrating a philosophical tradition that is not aligned with Epicureanism, illuminates some affinities to Stoicism, and embraces most closely concepts and ideas found within Middle Platonism and representing many affinities with Philo of Alexandria. Also, I think it may be worth noting that a characteristic of Middle Platonism is a merging of ideas within Stoicism and Platonism. 15
Nevertheless, as stated above in my quotation of his article, Niebuhr’s primary point seems to be that the references and utilization of Hellenistic philosophical traditions are an attempt to reinforce and support the veracity of Moses, the Torah, and a shared understanding of Diaspora Judaism without necessarily having to identify closely with any one particular philosophical school. Thus, Niebuhr provides a more conservative and reserved conclusion to the links between Wisdom’s embrace of Jewish texts and ideas, while also doing a thorough job of identifying specific texts and locations within Wisdom that demonstrate some of these connections between Greek philosophical schools and Wisdom. For me, this research raises questions. Is it more accurate to state that Wisdom is a good example of a Hellenistic Jewish text primarily influenced by Middle Platonism; 16 or more generally, is it more accurate to state that Wisdom is a good example of a Hellenistic Jewish text heavily influenced by Greek philosophical thought? 17 Of course, the latter clause is broader in its assertion, but may be too general to reflect accuracy. 18
The purpose of this essay is to test the hypothesis that the Wisdom of Solomon is a good representation of Middle Platonism as exemplified by an educated (probably Alexandrian) Hellenistic individual, who exemplifies a strong affinity and devotion to the Torah. Of course, the alternative is to suggest that Wisdom is generally influenced by several Greek philosophical schools of thought, but yet is committed to none specifically. To do this, I will expand the investigation of Wisdom by examining Middle Platonic themes and ideas within the text specifically by looking at another prominent representative of Middle Platonism. In particular, rather than comparing Wisdom’s philosophy to that represented in the writings of Philo, who is probably an Alexandrian contemporary of the author of Wisdom, I shall look at a representative of Middle Platonism from a few years later within the Roman Empire: the writings of Plutarch of Chaeroneia.
However, several initial qualifications must be noted. This essay will lightly examine Plutarch’s texts in comparison to Wisdom. While this might be a fruitful area to continue research, I will be brief and merely suggestive in my research and assertions. Also, I have no intention of arguing that the naïve level of philosophical development within Wisdom is in any way approachable to the advanced level of philosophical development within Plutarch. This should probably go without saying. On the other hand, in calling Wisdom naïve, I do not mean to discourage research in this area. My hope is that such a study as this will help provide greater exposure to the study of Middle Platonism and the study of the Wisdom of Solomon, while demonstrating the richness of the writing of Wisdom, so that scholars will come to realize how much more can be gained from seeing this document in light of its rich philosophical background. 19
This essay has been divided into several sections. First, I will provide a brief historical background for both Wisdom and Plutarch, so that one might be able to better comprehend just how the connection is going to be made between the two within this essay. After the background, I will then deal with the discussion of Middle Platonism by dividing the body of the essay into two different philosophical categories, namely Ethics and Physics (including Metaphysics). 20 Within the section on Ethics, I will first deal with some of Plutarch’s ideas on the telos, virtue (as spoken about both in the Moralia and in the Lives), and also his thoughts on politics, in particular his conception of the ideal leader and monarch. I will then demonstrate how these various concepts emerge within the text of Wisdom. Following this comparison, I will deal with some of Plutarch’s ideas on Physics, and in particular will deal with several different issues that were of interest to Plutarch, such as the Monad and the Dyad, the World Soul, the soul’s migration, daemons, and the multiplicity of Worlds. 21 After laying out Plutarch’s philosophical position on these subjects, I will once again demonstrate how these issues also arise within the rhetoric of Wisdom. Upon the completion of my survey on Ethics and Physics, I will then provide my concluding remarks regarding Middle Platonism as represented within these two sources. 22
Historical background
Plotting out the historical background to the Wisdom of Solomon is a difficult task due to a lack of information. Nonetheless, an attempt has been made here, while knowing the limitations. Briefly, rough estimates for the writing of Wisdom range from anywhere between 220 B.C.E. and 50 C.E. 23 While recognizing that this range is somewhat broad (to say the least) and that the overall subject of this essay is not dependent upon an exact date, I am operating under the assumption that this text was written circa 38 C.E. during the reign of the emperor Gaius Caligula and can be pinpointed to have been a product of an Alexandrian Jew, attempting to address the sociological oppression experienced by the Jews living through a pogrom and under the continual reality of persecution, fighting to preserve their cultural distinctiveness. 24 In addition to these factors contributing to the composition of Wisdom, it is also very apparent that the author of Wisdom is very familiar with the rhetorical practices of Hellenistic writing and speechmaking 25 and thus provides a highly rhetorical document. 26
The other side of the comparison deals with the writings of Plutarch of Chaeroneia. One does not quickly make connections between Wisdom and Plutarch, but an ever so slight historical connection can yet be found. When we look back at the career and life of Plutarch, one begins by roughly dating the life of Plutarch circa 50 C.E. to 125 C.E. 27 This is established due to the fact that during the last two years of Nero’s reign, Plutarch can be found in Athens studying under Ammonius, 28 the Platonist (or should we say Middle Platonist) at the Platonic Academy. 29
Before we say more concerning Plutarch, the Ammonius digression must briefly be unfolded. The connection is made by the fact that Ammonius was an Egyptian. 30 This allows one to see a connection that can and should be made between the philosophical schools of Alexandria and Athens, with the former providing the stimulus for philosophical thought in the latter. Interestingly enough, this has Ammonius as a contemporary of the development and writing of Wisdom, with Plutarch falling quickly into the next generation after the events of Alexandria in the first half of the century. This also suggests that Ammonius’ ideas probably developed within the same social context as Wisdom and therefore has in some form been preserved also in Plutarch. In addition to this “formative” connection, there is the evidence from the Moralia 678C that during Plutarch’s many journeys he visited Alexandria at least once. 31 In addition to this reference, one only has to consult his work on “Isis and Osiris” to demonstrate his familiarity with the religious myth that had captivated so many people of the Empire. 32
Aside from Plutarch’s connections to Alexandria,
Plutarch stands at the beginning of a period in the history of Platonism about which we have considerably more evidence than about the period which immediately precedes him-though even that is not saying a great deal.
33
Although one realizes the limitations that we are working under, one can also begin to realize that there is actually a great deal of reason in projecting a study forward when looking at Wisdom, due to the fact that any study done otherwise is like working on a puzzle that is missing most of the pieces. With Plutarch, one might say that the puzzle pieces have increased to 60% of the puzzle. 34
In looking at the span of his life, some have suggested that Plutarch may have died around the year 125 C.E., allowing for his life to have run 75–80 years in length. 35 While living, Plutarch spent much of his life in Chaeroneia, in Boeotia, Greece. He is also known to have traveled widely, with friends in Rome and Athens, while remaining faithful to his hometown. 36 During this time, Plutarch wrote a tremendous number of essays that have been preserved to the present. These essays have primarily come down to us in the form of his Lives of great leaders and monarchs through the ages, and also his Moralia, which generally deal more explicitly with the philosophical issues of the day. It is from both of these sources that his Middle Platonic philosophical perspective can be reformulated. 37 Hopefully, the brief overview of Wisdom and Plutarch that I have provided will be sufficient for the sake of analyzing these two sources looking for similarities in their Middle Platonic thought.
Ethics in Plutarch
As I stated earlier, the approach that I am going to take is to examine two of the philosophical categories: Ethics and Physics. Under the rubric of Ethics, one must first consider the issue of the telos, or stated another way, the ultimate purpose of life. The telos can easily be summed up as “Likeness to God, not conformity with Nature.”
38
In order to understand how humans can pursue conformity with God, several insights from Plutarch should be helpful. While setting the stage for an argument that suggests that God is “slow and leisurely in his punishment of the wicked,”
39
Plutarch, in his The Divine Vengeance, provides several insights into the telos. Plutarch states,
Consider first that God, as Plato says, offers himself to all as a pattern of every excellence, thus rendering human virtue, which is in some sort an assimilation to himself, accessible to all who can “follow God.” Indeed this was the origin of the change whereby universal nature, disordered before, became a “cosmos”: it came to resemble after a fashion and participate in the form and excellence of God. The same philosopher says further that nature kindled vision in us so that the soul, beholding the heavenly motions and wondering at the sight, should grow to accept and cherish all that moves in stateliness and order, and thus come to hate discordant and errant passions and to shun the aimless and haphazard as source of all vice and jarring error; for man is fitted to derive from God no greater blessing than to become settled in virtue through coping and aspiring to the beauty and the goodness that are his.
40
Consider now several aspects of this quote. First, one must understand that God is presenting himself as a model and pattern of excellence/virtue (ἀρετή), thus giving credence and a role for human virtue in relation to this ἀρετή. In understanding how this works, Plutarch points back to the “beginning” (την ἀρχήν), that the disordered state of “universal nature” (πάντων ϕὺσις) became a cosmos. 41 In this way, the cosmos resembled the form (ἰδίας) and excellence (ἀρετή) of God. 42 The last step was to reveal this to the soul of humans, so that they might have the vision to see this manifestation in nature. This was accomplished through the vision of the eyes, in which we are able to conform ourselves to the likeness of God. 43 This process of conforming our soul to God is a process that helps one discriminate between the excellent and virtuous things and the errant passions, and so on, and resulting in the conclusion that humans have “no greater blessing” 44 than to “settle in virtue” through this likening to God. 45 Part of the way that the likening to God takes place is through a process of quiet meditation. 46 In particular, meditation upon Sophia (ϕρόνησις, Wisdom) is important. Therefore, making the “true object of Sophia” to be “recognized as homoiosis theoi (likeness to God).” 47
In addition to quietude, likening to God hinges upon one’s attainment of virtue, as defined by Plutarch. In order to gain a grasp on how the virtues interact and work within the realm of the soul, a short description and explanation of the soul is in order.
48
The source to consult on this matter is Plutarch’s On Moral Virtue.
49
To begin, Plutarch begins by discussing “moral virtue” separate and apart from “contemplative virtue.”
50
In order to do this, Plutarch must address a related concern, the nature of the soul. Plutarch gives an exposition of the notable philosophers who held to virtue proceeding out of one unified soul (e.g., Menedemus of Eretria, Ariston of Chios, Zeno of Citium), while refuting other ideas on this subject put forth by Chrysippus.
51
Plutarch writes,
but it seems to have eluded all these philosophers in what way each of us is truly two-fold and composite . . . But that there is some element of composition, some two-fold nature and dissimilarity of the very soul within itself, since the irrational, as though it were another substance, is mingled and joined with reason by some compulsion of nature.
52
Plutarch then explains this in more detail by going back to Plato again with a thorough exegesis of Timaeus 35A ff., that there is indeed a World Soul (i.e., Soul of the Universe) that is “compounded . . . split into movements and circles,” and so on. 53 It is within this realm that one can find a microcosm actively involved and replicating the greater process of generation and differentiation at the level of the human soul. It is at this level that one begins to see that this soul is indeed divisible, and a copy of the World Soul, and is thus divided between the intelligent/rational side of the soul, whose “duty is to govern and rule the individual,” and the irrational/passionate (ἄλογος/παθητικός) part, which needs guidance and direction. 54 Again, this second part is subdivided into two parts, the appetite and the spirited part. The latter (i.e., the “spirited” part) is the part more willing to cooperate with the rational/reason (λόγος in controlling the irrational (παθητικός), while the former (i.e., “appetite”) is more willing to serve the body. 55 At this point, Plutarch then offers an explanation of how the “system” works. He does this by providing a number of examples, such as looking at examples in nature and sexuality.
One of the examples is provided by considering how a man falls in love with someone and then afterward learns that the “beautiful maiden” is really their sister or daughter:
An evident proof of this is also the shrinking and withdrawal of the private parts, which hold their peace and remain quiet in the presence of such beautiful maidens and youths as neither reason nor law allows to touch.
56
This shrinking effect of the testicles and the penis is the correlation of the way that the passions immediately respond to reason that controls the passions. This in turn is the way and working of “ethical or moral” virtue. 57 In this way, moral virtue is a “mean” in which there is a constant re-centering and leveling effect that takes place. In conclusion, the interaction is described by “limiting the movement of the passions reason implants in the irrational the moral virtues, which are means between deficiency and excess.” 58 In this way, one begins to understand all of the finely described details of the soul’s relationship to the World Soul, which in turn is through this long and detailed process hoping to contribute to the act of conforming to God.
Before completing these thoughts on Plutarch’s understanding of virtue, one might add at this point that moral or ethical virtue is not the only virtue. There is also the “contemplative virtue” mentioned earlier, which is likely to also be the form of virtue that Plutarch wants to separate from the moral virtue that serves as a mean. He states,
For we must not declare that every virtue comes into being by the observance of a mean, but, on the contrary, wisdom, being without any need of the irrational and arising in the activity of the mind, pure and uncontaminated by passion, is, as it were, a self-sufficing perfection and power of reason, by which the most divine and blessed element of knowledge becomes possible for us.
59
Within this quotation, notice several things; first, Wisdom (Sophia) is more or less above and beyond the daily workings of the “mean,” while it is a cornerstone of perfection and divinity residing in the mind (νοῦς), which is the superior portion of the rational portion of the soul. 60 This is precisely where the philosopher should concentrate his or her quietude in seeking likeness to God. Through this meditation proceeding out of the noàj, the soul is capable of conforming to God.
If the telos is “Likeness to God” and adversely “not conforming to Nature,” then the difficulty can be said to reside in the practice of not conforming to Nature. The struggle here lies in how one deals with this encounter, specifically in how one manages their passions within the various trials of life. Rather than a desire to root out or destroy the passions, Plutarch advocates a middle path in the promotion of the idea that one can reasonably moderate their passions. 61 Therefore, a common attribute that Plutarch suggests as admirable among leaders is that they effectively regulate their passions in numerous ways; whether it be exhibiting incredibly high levels of tolerance and patience for others in trying circumstances or in their ability to not overindulge themselves in the excesses of life. 62 While my mention here is brief, it is yet important to note, since similar ideas will be shown to be present within the Wisdom of Solomon that pertain to such matters of the soul’s journey (or migration) through this life and throughout the cosmos.
The last issue to consider regarding Plutarch’s ethics is his views upon politics.
63
In the words of Dillon, Plutarch “was a strong supporter both of the political life and of the principle of monarchy.”
64
In the fragments that remain of On Monarchy, Democracy, and Oligarchy (i.e., Un. rep. dom.), one is fortunate to realize that just enough of the text remains to gain a clear picture of Plutarchian thought on the issue.
65
The author begins by affirming the decision of many to enter into the realm of political life and statecraft.
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He then lays out the three viable forms of government, which I have already mentioned in the naming of the work. While all three are mentioned as viable, there are inherent risks associated with each of the various forms of governance. If any one of these three is not treated properly, then there are horrendous results that are sure to develop; namely monarchy could devolve to tyranny, democracy to mob-rule, oligarchy to anarchy, and other such evils to the people of the state. This point is made through the analogy of a stringed instrument that when tuned and played correctly will produce a beautiful harmony. As is often the case, Plutarch once again redirects attention to Plato (no specific reference is found in this case) and recommends that one should
choose no other than monarch, the only one which is able to sustain that top note of virtue, high in the highest sense, and never let it be tuned down under compulsion or expediency.
67
This support is further strengthened by close examinations of his Lives.
68
I will provide one brief example, namely Pericles, to reinforce this point. In many ways, Pericles represents the premier example of a statesman for the πόλις of Athens (being the στρατηγός for 15 years), if for no other reason, due to his role in the expansion of the Greek world and the architectural feats accomplished in Athens at the time.
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Even more so for Plutarch, he is premier due to his excellence in virtues, “gentleness and rectitude,” and by his ability to “endure the follies” of the people and of his colleagues.
70
Part of the way that Plutarch shows the excellence of the rulers is by their lives that can and should be modeled. For instance, in support of a monarch, during a period of Greece, when the city-state of Athens was more or less a democracy, Plutarch quotes Thucydides by saying “the administration of Pericles is rather aristocratic,-‘in name a democracy, but in fact a government by the greatest citizen.’”
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In addition to this, Pericles is clearly presented in the light of the great “philosopher-ruler” seen by the way he is presented as grounded in the teachings of Anaxagoras the Clazomenian and as a student of Zeno.
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One example to demonstrate this philosophical grounding is seen when Pericles was leading out 150 ships to war and upon his going aboard his ship with his own trireme, the sun was eclipsed:
Accordingly, seeing that his steersman was timorous and utterly perplexed, Pericles held up his cloak before the man’s eyes, and thus covering them, asked him if he thought it anything dreadful. “No,” said the steersman. “How then,” said Pericles, “is yonder event different from this, except that it is something rather larger than my cloak which has caused the obscurity.” At any rate, this tale is told in the schools of philosophy.
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Last, but not least, in regard to Plutarch’s views on politics is the virtuous life of the great political figure. Pericles, as many other leading figures were known to live virtuous lives, would not entangle himself with drinking bouts and parties, but kept an orderly life. 74 In summary, Pericles demonstrates well Plutarch’s views on politics. In particular, his preference for the philosophically minded ruler, a monarch, who leads through a demonstration of excellency in virtue and superior philosophical clarity.
Ethics in Wisdom
In response to these things, one must begin to look critically for the signs of Middle Platonic thought in Wisdom, in particular to the concepts presented above on ethics that consider (1) the τέλος (telos), (2) virtue, and (3) politics. In considering the telos, the first obvious example is found in Wis 2.21–24. The text is addressing the misguided reading of the ungodly, when the writer states,
and they did not know the secret purposes of God, nor hoped for the wages of holiness, nor discerned the prize for blameless souls; for God created (ἔκτισεν) us for incorruption, and made us in the image of his own eternity
75
(καὶ εἰκόνα τῆς ἰδίας ἀϊδιότητος ἐποίησεν αὐτόν), but through the devil’s envy death entered the world, and those who belong to his company experience it.
76
Interestingly enough, the text is speaking of God’s own form (τῆς ἰδίας). Here, the emphasis upon the likeness of humanity to God is striking, especially in light of Middle Platonism.
To add to this, one could add the dimension of quietude, or the meditation upon Sophia, 77 in pursuit to becoming likened to God. In Wis 6.12–16, the “fixation” upon Sophia being advocated by the author serves to elevate one to god. For indeed the “righteous live forever, and their reward is with the Lord; the Most High takes care of them.” 78 This transformation to live with God is rooted in one’s ability to realize that “(t)o fix one’s thought on her is perfect understanding (ϕρονήσεως τελειότης).” 79 The transfixion upon complete comprehension (i.e., ϕρόνησις or σοϕία) is the same ϕρονήσεως as seen earlier in Plutarch. It is not simply a fixation upon ϕρόνησις, but the wisdom that assists one in the process of fulfilling the τέλος. To add to this is the exposition in Wis 13.1–15.19 that strongly critiques false worship. In analyzing this critique, one begins to realize that the problem is also rooted in Middle Platonism as well. Being likened to God has been superseded by and ironically replaced by the human shaping of materials, such as wood in the “εἰκόνι ἀνθρώπου.” 80 This reversal cannot be anything, but repulsive to such a Platonic perception of the Universe and God. To add to the problem, humans are desiring “the lifeless form of a dead image” in contrast to desiring the living form of the perfect, completely righteous, and immortal image of God. 81
Concerning Wisdom’s discussion of virtue, it is going to be limited in some respects compared to the thorough explication provided by Plutarch in On Moral Virtue, but, on the other hand, it does deal with it explicitly in relationship to a strong contrast between those who love ϕρόνησις, love σοϕία, and can be found in righteousness, and those who forsake it, with eternal consequences. For instance, one might begin with Wis 4.1,
Better than this is childlessness with virtue (ἀρετή), for in the memory of virtue is immortality, because it is known both by God and by mortals. When it is present, people imitate it, and they long for it when it has gone.
The first question that comes to mind is, “Better than what?” The essential answer is a life without sof . . . a (Wis 3.11), or in other words, the life of the godless (Wis 3.10).
82
What is interesting about this comment is that one would have to come to the conclusion that there is indeed a strong preoccupation with this “contemplative” form of virtue, and if not this, then it is definitely what can be categorized as the form of virtue coming forth out of the rational side of the soul. It is indeed the substance worthy of ϕρονήσις that links one to God and immortality.
83
In fact, the intensity of the praise of Sophia that comes later in chapters 6–9 is in many ways an offering of praise and meditation upon Sophia within itself. An example of this continuous outpouring of praise can be found in Wis 7.21–23:
For Wisdom (σοϕία), the fashioner of all things, taught me. There is in her a spirit that is intelligent, holy, unique, manifold, subtle, mobile, clear, unpolluted, distinct, invulnerable, loving the good, keen, irresistible, beneficent, humane, steadfast, sure, free from anxiety, all-powerful, overseeing all, and penetrating through all the spirits that are intelligent, pure, and altogether subtle.
Again, in Wis 7.27 the author writes “in every generation she passes into holy souls.” Here, one is reminded of how contemplative virtue serves as a mean by which the soul is to be able to attain likeness to God (i.e., the telos). 84 This is followed up by several illustrations and meditations in chapters 10–11 on how Sophia has saving power when in the possession of those souls who are inquiring of God (like Solomon in Wis 7.7) and punishing power for the unrighteous.
In regard to the “moral virtue” of Plutarch, it simply does not exist, at least in the same terminology of Plutarch. In fact, the only reference to ethos (moral, ethical) is in reference to a “custom” and is most likely a textual error where the text should have read ἔθνος instead of ἔθος. 85 It is probably fair to say that this distinction between “moral” and “contemplative” virtue does not exist for the writer of Wisdom. Nonetheless, putting this difference aside, in the book of Wisdom I believe that the Sophia serves the role of both the mean (i.e., “moral” virtue) and the contemplative. So far, examples of the higher form have been offered, but I think that Wis 10.1–2 demonstrates the activity of the moral virtue that levels the soul out to the mean. For in this text Sophia delivers Adam “from his transgression. And gave him strength to rule all things (ἔδωκέν τε αὐτῶ ἰσχὺν κρατῆσαι ἁπάντων).” 86 In other words, I am emphasizing that even Adam, after his failings in virtue, is provided an avenue by Sophia, in which he is able to compensate for his shortcomings by Sophia giving him the ability to regulate himself and exercise the necessary virtue required to “rule all things.” This sounds like a “mean” that allows Adam to tighten his metaphorical strings sufficiently to play a beautiful harmony, as exemplified by his political rule of everything. At this point, I think one might safely assume that the language regarding Sophia is intimately rooted in Middle Platonism as it addresses similar philosophical themes related to the soul, the migration of the soul, virtue, and the telos.
The third aspect under consideration in Ethics deals with Politics. One would be tempted to consider Wisdom to also be an indirect appeal to rulers to reconsider their course of action. To begin, at no point does the author of Wisdom bring into question the rule by a monarch.
87
In Wis 1.1, the appeal begins with “Love righteousness, you rulers of the earth . . .” The appeal then shifts to kings and judges in 6.1 and then to monarchs in 6.9 and 21. In Wis 6.9, the appeal is: “To you then, O monarchs, my words are directed, so that you may learn wisdom and not transgress.” It is constant redirecting of attention of the rulers to reconsider the thoughts of the author, especially in regard to their respect and honor of God and Sophia.
88
This critique of the monarch fits within a particular rhetorical framework that the author is subtly attempting to make a point concerning the present conditions within the Empire. In particular the idea of the monarch having Divine status would have been absolutely absurd to the author of Wisdom. In Wis 7.1, in Solomon’s speech, the author begins with
I also am mortal, like everyone else, a descendent of the first-formed child of earth; and in the womb of a mother I was molded into flesh, within the period of ten months, compacted with blood, from the seed of a man and pleasure of marriage. And when I was born, I began to breathe the common air, and fell upon the kindred earth; my first sound was a cry, as is true of all. I was nursed with care in swaddling cloths. For no king has had a different beginning of existence; there is for all one entrance into life. And one way out.
It is removal of the divine birth of any individual that is intended here to point to the similarity of all people, especially that no Caesar or king should be regarded with any more concern than anyone else.
89
In the Letter of Aristeas 262–63, this same point is reiterated. The king asks,
“How can a man avoid giving way to arrogance?” The reply was, “By maintaining impartiality, and by reminding himself in the case of each individual that he is a ruler of men and still a man himself.”
90
Part of this defense has to do with the arrogance involved, and the other part of the critique is aimed at the idea of emperor worship, which was an absolutely absurd concept to many of the Jews.
91
In particular, in Wisdom there is no direct critique of emperor worship, but it is accomplished in an indirect way. In Wisdom 13–15, the author lays out a strong critique of the making and worshipping of idols as ignorant and foolish. By way of the critique of idols, “monarchs” are reintroduced within this context, so that in 14.16–17, the author is able to criticize the concept of “[w]hen people could not honor monarchs in their presence, since they lived at a distance, they imagined their appearance far away, and made a visible image of the king whom they honored . . .” This criticism is most certainly in reference to the development of the Imperial Cult with the setting up of the images of Caesar in the law courts throughout the Roman Empire as first introduced by Gaius Caligula,
92
and believed to hold the genius (spirit or δαίμων) of the Caesar within it, therefore allowing the Caesar to be “present.”
93
So it is in this way that the politics of the author of Wisdom are not critical of monarchy and rule by the one, but are critical of the arrogance and misappropriation of the center of Sophia and the Divine.
94
In particular, this is expressed in Wis 15.16–17 in further criticism of idols and idol-making:
For a human being made them, and one whose spirit is borrowed formed them; for none can form gods that are like themselves. People are mortal, and what they make with lawless hands is dead; for they are better than the objects they worship, since they have life, but the idols never had.
This clear delineation between the divine and the mortal cannot be underestimated within Wisdom, Plutarch, and Middle Platonism. Obviously, a leader can be good, moral, even attain to ἀρετή, but to claim divinity, especially within the image made by a man is incorrect and to Wisdom blasphemous.
Physics in Plutarch
Now that serious consideration has been given to the ethical positions of both Plutarch and Wisdom, it is time to briefly consider some of the Middle Platonic thought one finds within these two sources pertaining to Physics. Plutarch’s perspective on “First Principles” serves as a good place to begin. In particular, I am referring to the Monad (μονάς, μονάδος) and the Indefinite Dyad 95 (δυάδα ἀόριστον). As would be expected, some of these concepts have already been alluded to within the previous section, but will now be dealt with more directly.
In E at Delphi, 393B, Plutarch speaks of the Monad, God, the “Supreme Being.”
96
He states,
But God is (if there be need to say so), and He exists for no fixed time, but for the everlasting ages which are immovable, timeless, and undeviating, in which there is not earlier nor later, no future nor past, no older nor younger . . .
Furthermore, God, or the Monad, relates to the world by means of the Logos (λόγος), which in turn is broken down into the “transcendent” and the “immanent” 97 with the former representing the soul and the latter the body.
As a compliment to the Monad is the Indefinite Dyad, which is to Plutarch, “the element underlying all formlessness and disarrangement,” also called “infinity.” 98 While noting that in the Obsolescence of Oracles, where Plutarch discusses this idea of infinity, he is specifically speaking of numbers, but the principle remains true for the sake of understanding “Being,” creation, and the cosmos. 99 Through the Indefinite Dyad, Plutarch introduces the idea of the soul. In particular, there is the World Soul (ψυχή κόσμου) 100 —which we experience in a microscopic form, namely the human soul—and it, namely the World Soul, is the presentable form of the Indefinite Dyad that plays a role in the creation of the cosmos. 101 Furthermore, we experience the Indefinite Dyad in the form of Nature. Nature is that which has no “permanence or even existence.” 102 Thus, what we have is a dualistic idea. There is the Monad relating to the cosmos by means of the Logos, and as a counterpart to the Monad is the Indefinite Dyad, which is relating to the world by means of the World Soul within Nature. Taking this one step further, there is also a duality and tension within the World Soul between the beneficent and maleficent aspects within it.
As a way to make a difficult subject understandable, an explanation for this is found within the text of Isis and Osiris, where the concepts are explicated through an allegory of the mythological story of none other than Isis and Osiris. Plutarch describes it this way. In Isis and Osiris 373C, before the Logos could create the Cosmos, the Indefinite Dyad, by means of the World Soul, in the form of Nature, “brought forth of itself the first creation imperfect.” This is yet the formless, “image and outline of a world to be.” 103 The duality serves to demonstrate that the Logos is needed to respond to the imperfect cosmos to finish it and continually bring it back into line. 104 If one so chose to do so, this would also be the point in the discussion that one could introduce the topic of Ethics in Plutarch, which for the most part is going to be dealing more directly with the microcosm of the World Soul, the human soul. Although much more could be said, I think that this introduction to the activity of the Monad and the Indefinite Dyad is sufficient for this essay.
In addition to a treatment of the Monad, Dyad, and the World Soul, Plutarch’s ideas related to the Soul’s migration are relevant for this discussion also. 105 To begin, one has to firmly plant in their mind the existence of δαίμονας (i.e., “spirits,” or “daemons”), and how they function within the divisions of the universe. If one could subdivide the cosmos, there are three areas of note. There is a “spirited” division that exists between the earth and the moon, and the moon to the sun, and then beyond the Sun. “Now if that air that is between the earth and the moon were to be removed and withdrawn, the unity and coherence of the universe would be destroyed.” 106 In the same way, if one were to suggest the lack of existence of daemons, the result would be the same as removing the air. Dillon states, “Daemons, then, serve as a link between men and gods, intervening in the details of human existence in a way that would be undignified for God, and inconsistent with his untroubled serenity.” 107 Within this realm of daemons there are good daemons and evil daemons. Generally speaking, there is an ascending and descending character to daemons as well, yet some seem to get stuck more often than others, some permanently stuck, and others moving freely. So also, there is the interest of “guardian daemons” who serve like coaches to an athlete who is trying to finish the race. Thus, the “coach” is there to offer encouragement and support for the “athlete.” 108 In general, there is a process that takes place where the soul is attempting to rise to the top and pass out of life, to the moon, and eventually if successful, ascend to God. Yet this is a very difficult process. For one, there is a multiplicity of levels all the way from Hades, residing at the bottom, being equivalent to Decay, and extending up to the top (through Generation and Motion) up to the fourth principle, Life. 109 In particular, Nature, or Soul (at the Moon) is the link between Decay (Hades) and Generation. Then, there are the links of Mind (νοῦς linking at the Sun) and finally the Monad is the link to the outer universe. It is through this process that the soul aspires to ascend, but often times, and more often than not, cannot make it past the transition point at the moon. 110 Therefore, there is an intense amount of activity between Hades, the earth, and the moon, to keep it in the language of Plutarch. While much more could be said, I think that this summarizes some of the key important elements pertaining to the Middle Platonism of Plutarch that one can see complimented within the Wisdom of Solomon.
Physics in Wisdom
In response, Wisdom has several passages that deal with these philosophical concepts. As a reminder, do keep in mind that I am not looking for the complete development of these Platonic thoughts in Wisdom, but am looking merely for their existence as a philosophical backdrop for the ideas presented by the author of Wisdom. Considering first the Monad, the Dyad, and the World Soul, one will soon find these concepts intimately infused with what the author is able to contribute from Genesis 1, which supports the backdrop of a Jewish understanding of creation.
111
The most likely beginning point for this would have to be Wisdom 1.14–15, which states,
For he created all things so that they might exist; the generative forces of the world are wholesome, and there is no destructive poison in them, and the dominion of Hades is not on earth. For righteousness is immortal.
Obviously, there is much offered in this passage that deals with the different levels of the Universe, Hades, and the transmigration of souls, but let us resist the temptation at this point, and come back to it momentarily. At this point, consider the language pertaining to God, the Monad. While the specific term for Monad does not exist here, it is with God that all things exist, and are described as the “generative forces.” In particular, it is not just God, but God by means of the Logos and/or Sophia that this creation has been accomplished. In Wis 9.1–2, “O God of my ancestors and Lord of mercy, who have made all things by your Word (λόγῳ), and by your Wisdom (σοϕίᾳ) have formed humankind.” 112 Within this text, ideas stemming from Middle Platonism and from Genesis are being fused almost seamlessly. 113 Wis 10.1 also demonstrates this fusion in speaking of Adam; “Wisdom protected the first-formed father of world, when he alone had been created.” Furthermore, Wis 11.17 expresses the dualistic act of creation of the cosmos with the relationship, in Middle Platonic language, of the Monad (via λόγος) to the Dyad (via ψυχή κόσμου). The passage states, “For your all-powerful hand, which created the world (κόσμον) out of formless matter (ἀμόρϕου ὕλης) . . .” Not surprisingly, these ideas pertaining to creation of the cosmos out of the formless matter (ἀμόρϕου ὕλης) mentioned here in Wisdom sounds quite similar to those of Plutarch mentioned in the Isis and Osiris allegory. 114 So what we are dealing with here is a cosmos that had pre-existence, and was formed to perfection by Logos/Sophia, acting as the agent of God. 115
In addition to the language of the first principles, and so on, can one find anything that deals with the migration of souls? Consider again Wis 1.14–15 cited above. Within this brief passage, one can already discern an awareness of a Hades, which was also seen in Plutarch. Not just a Hades, but a realm, separate and apart from earth, that is the location of “ungodly” souls, who have been unwilling to look and meditate upon the Sophia. One extension of thought implied by the author of Wisdom is the permanence of souls to reside in such a place. For indeed, “no one has been known to return from Hades.” 116
In contrast to the idea of Hades, the realm of God lies at the other extremity (Wis 3.1–3) characterized as in the “hand of God” and “at peace.” 117 In regard to the level of activity by God, it is somewhat unclear. The NRSV renders Wis 3.13 as “their 118 offspring are accursed. For blessed is the barren woman who is undefiled, who has not entered into a sinful union; she will have fruit when God examines souls.” On the contrary, the last clause is literally ἕξει καρπὸν ἐν ἐπισκοπῆ ψυχῶν. While it is possible to assume, as the translator’s have done, that this is God who “examines,” the text is actually left with some ambiguity that may suggest God is somewhat distant from the actual process. If this is the case, then it would seem to be in closer harmony with Middle Platonic thought, and also would be in closer harmony to what was stated clearly in Wis 9.1–2 pertaining to God’s creating by means of Logos and Sophia.
In the text of Wisdom, it is also clear that some souls have simply lost sight of Sophia, and “were caught up so that guile” would be able to “deceive their souls” in contrast with those who pleased God (Wis 4.10–11). The ability to ascend or descend is attached to one’s ability to comprehend and meditate upon Sophia. 119 For instance, in Wis 4.10–12, the author discusses some who had “pleased God and were loved by him, and while living among sinners were taken up.” 120 The text goes on to describe how they were “caught up” and that those who could not obtain this ascendance to God had allowed “roving desire” (ἐπιθυμίας) to pervert their ἄκακον νοῦν. The direct correlation between one’s soul to ascend to God and the νοῦς is seen also in Wis 9.15, where it states ϕθαρτὸν γὰρ σῶμα βαρύνει ψυχήν καὶ βρίθει τὸ γεῶδες σκῆνος νοῦν πολυϕρόντιδα (for a perishable body weighs down the soul, and this earthly tent burdens the thoughtful mind). Representing the voice of Solomon, Wis 7.7 states, “I called on God, and the spirit of Sophia came to me.” Also, in Wis 7.27, “Although she is but one, she can do all things, and while remaining in herself, she renews all things; in every generation she passes into holy souls 121 and makes friends of God, and prophets.” Again, in Wis 12.1, the connection is broadened from the ascendancy of individuals to all of the creation that is intimately created by means of the Logos and states, “for your immortal spirit is in all things.” It is this entering of the “living spirit” of God that one finds so interesting within the process. As Wis 15.11 states, it is God (implied in text) who “inspired them with active souls and breathed a living spirit into them.” In contrast to ascending, the author is willing to connect the descending of a soul to humanity’s mistake of confusing the true image of god with the image of an idol. For the “heathen idols” are “snares for human souls.” 122
There is also a point within this process that souls can also leave a body. For instance, “a person in wickedness kills another, but cannot bring back the departed spirit, or set free the imprisoned soul” (Wis 16.14). What is interesting about this passage is that, on the one hand, the pneàma departs, but, on the other hand, this does not necessarily free the ψυχή. This implies, as in Plutarch, the existence of a realm in which the souls are continually in the process of breaking free of the routine, in hopes of ascending to God. Generally speaking, the author is using a loose structure and framework for the universe that coincides quite well with that of Plutarch.
Conclusion
In conclusion, I believe that when reading Wisdom, it is safe to assume that one is reading from the pages of a Jewish writer who has certainly been heavily influenced by Middle Platonic thought, and in addition, is allowing the worldview of the Middle Platonist to serve as a basis for assessing the situations of life. 123 Wisdom is obviously not a philosophical treatise and at no point is claiming to set forth explicitly the teachings of Platonism. Nevertheless, it is apparent, as demonstrated within this essay, that the philosophical positions pertaining to ethics (the telos, virtue, and politics) and physics (the Monad, the Indefinite Dyad, the World Soul, existence of daemons, and the transmigration of souls) are all acutely present in Plutarch and are well represented in Wisdom. Due to these reasons, I think the evidence is overwhelming—as demonstrated even in this brief analysis—to conclude that the Wisdom of Solomon is more than an example of a Jewish text representing Greek philosophical thought, but even more, it represents an excellent example of a Jewish text that is firmly rooted in Middle Platonic thought.
Footnotes
Declaration of conflicting interests
The author(s) declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
Funding
The author(s) received no financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
1.
From this point forward, I will refer to the Wisdom of Solomon as Wisdom. Also, Greek references from Wisdom will be taken from the critical texts provided by both Joseph Ziegler, Sapientia Salomonis (Göttingen Septuagint 12/1; Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1962) and more recently Heinz-Günther Nesselrath in Karl-Wilhelm Niebuhr et al., eds. Sapientia Salomonis (Weisheit Salomos) (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 
), 39–134. The additional annotations, introduction, and essays are indispensable in the volume produced by Niebuhr et al. Any variation between the two critical reproductions of the Greek text will be noted.
2.
While not comprehensive, here are several significant works on the subject in the time frame mentioned above. See A. Schmitt, Das Buch der Weisheit: Ein Kommentar (Würzburg: Echter, 1980); Géza G. Xeravits and József Zsengellér, eds., Studies in the Book of Wisdom (Leiden: Brill, 2010), 83–100. Gerhard Von Rad, Wisdom in Israel (Nashville and New York: Abingdon Press, 1972); see also Leo G. Perdue’s revised dissertation under the advisement of James L. Crenshaw and Walter Harrelson, Wisdom and Cult: A Critical Analysis of the Views of Cult in the Wisdom Literatures of Israel and the Ancient Near East, SBLDS 30 (Missoula, MT: Scholars Press, 1977); David Winston, The Wisdom of Solomon: A New Translation with Introduction and Commentary, AB 43 (Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 1979); Roland E. Murphy, The Tree of Life: An Exploration of Biblical Wisdom Literature (2nd ed.; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1996 [1990]); Wisdom in Ancient Israel: Essays in Honour of J. A. Emerton (ed. John Day, Robert P. Gordon, and H. G. M. Williamson; Cambridge: Press Syndicate of the University of Cambridge, 1995); Leo G. Perdue, Wisdom and Creation: The Theology of Wisdom Literature (Nashville: Abingdon, 1994); James L. Crenshaw, Old Testament Wisdom (rev. and enl. ed.; Louisville, Westminster/John Knox Press, 1998); John J. Collins, Jewish Wisdom in the Hellenistic Age (Louisville, Westminster/John Knox Press, 1997) and idem, Between Athens and Jerusalem: Jewish Identity in the Jewish Diaspora (2nd ed.; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2000); see the festschrift for Marvin E. Tate, An Introduction to Wisdom Literature and the Psalms (ed. H. Wayne Ballard, Jr., and W. Dennis Tucker, Jr.; Macon, GA: Mercer University Press, 2000); Leo G. Perdue, Wisdom Literature: A Theological History (Louisville: Westminster/John Knox, 2007); idem, The Sword and the Stylus: An Introduction to Wisdom in the Age of Empires (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2008); Mark R. Sneed, ed., Was There a Wisdom Tradition? New Prospects in Israelite Wisdom Studies (Atlanta: SBL, ); idem, The Social World of the Sages: An Introduction to Israelite and Jewish Wisdom Literature (Minneapolis: Fortress, 2015), 373–77.
3.
On the rhetoric of Wisdom, see James M. Reese, Hellenistic Influence on the Book of Wisdom and Its Consequences, AnBib 41 (Rome: Pontifical Biblical Institute, 1970); Lester L. Grabbe, Wisdom of Solomon (Sheffield: Sheffield, 1997), 35–38. For inquiries into the Wisdom trove of Qumran, consult the following (not exhaustive): Mette Bundvad and Kasper Siegismund, eds., Vision, Narrative, and Wisdom in the Aramaic Texts from Qumran: Essays from the Copenhagen Symposium, 14–15 August, 2017, STDJ 131 (Leiden: Brill, 2020); Joseph A. Fitzmyer, A Guide to the Dead Sea Scrolls and Related Literature (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2008), 254–57; Daryl F. Jefferies, Wisdom at Qumran: A Form-Critical Analysis of the Admonitions in 4QInstruction, Gorgias Dissertations Near Eastern Studies 3 (Piscataway, NJ: Gorgias, 2002); Daniel J. Harrington, Wisdom Texts from Qumran (London and New York: Routledge, ).
4.
Walter T. Wilson considers Wisdom to be “among the most Hellenized works of the Apocrypha.” See the introduction to the Wisdom of Solomon, The New Oxford Annotated Apocrypha (ed. Michael D. Coogan, NRSV, 3rd ed.; Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2001), 70, while Michael Kolarcik suggests the author to be “a well-educated Hellenized Jew” (1449) and notes that chapters 6–11 are the “most Greek section of the book, where Philosophical ideas and tropes appear, such as the four virtues of Plato . . . ” in the introduction to the Wisdom of Solomon, in The New Oxford Annotated Bible (ed. Michael D. Coogan, 5th ed.; New York: Oxford University Press, ), 1450.
5.
Karl-Wilhelm Niebuhr, “Die Sapientia Salomonis im Kontext hellenisch-römischer Philosophie,” in Sapientia Salomonis (Weisheit Salomonis), 256.
6.
On Wisdom in comparison to Platonic thought generally, see Stella Lange, “The Wisdom of Solomon and Plato,” JBL 55 (1936): 293–302; Johann Gottfried Eichhorn, Einleitung in die apokryphen Schriften des Alten Testaments (Leipzig: Weidmann, 1795), 86–207; and Johann Friedrich Bruch, Weisheitslehre der Hebräer (Strassburg: Treuttel und Würtz, 1851), 325–28. On Middle Platonism in Wisdom, see Niebuhr, “Die Sapientia Salomonis,” 228–31; David Winston, “Wisdom of Solomon,” ABD (New York: Doubleday, 1992), Vol. 6, 123; Richard J. Clifford, The Wisdom Literature (Nashville: Abingdon, ), 137–38. On Middle Platonism, generally speaking, see John Dillon, The Middle Platonists: 80 B.C. to A.D. 220 (rev. ed.; Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 1996 [1977]). I will deal with Middle Platonism with greater specificity below.
7.
See Niebuhr, “Die Sapientia Salomonis,” 232–46; Perdue, Wisdom Literature, 275–85; Maren R. Niehoff, “Die Sapientia Salomonis und Philon–Vertreter derselben alexandrinisch-jüdischen Religionspartei?” in Sapientia Salomonis (Weisheit Salomonis), 257–71; and Heinz-Günther Nesselrath, “Zu Sprache und Stilstik der Sapientia Salomonis,” in Sapientia Salomonis (Weisheit Salomonis), 137–54, who demonstrates that the similarities in thought and vocabulary suggests a strong link between Philo and Wisdom’s worldview. For more on the linguistic forms of Wisdom, see Martina Kepper, Hellenistische Bildung im Buch der Weisheit: Studien zur Sprachgestalt und Theologie der Sapientia Salomonis, BZAW 280 (Berlin: de Gruyter, 1999). For more on the comparisons to Philo, see also Winston, The Wisdom of Solomon, 59–63 where he devotes some space making the comparison between Philo and Wisdom, but in general considers it a comparison of Middle Platonism and Wisdom throughout the commentary. See also Karina Martin Hogan, “The Exegetical Background of the ‘Ambiguity of Death’ in the Wisdom of Solomon,” JSJ 30 (1999): 1–24. See especially pages 3–5 to begin the comparison of “Pseudo-Solomon’s” understanding of Genesis 1–3 to that of Philo. Also see Clare Komoroske Rothschild, “Creation of the Cosmos in Philo of Alexandria and the Wisdom of Solomon; The Metaphysical-Ontological Interpretation as Metaphor,” Criterion 38 (1999): 14–19, 26. See also Collins, Jewish Wisdom, 178–232. I find Collin’s work helpful in terms of a comparison of Wisdom to Philo, but more so as a broader comparison of Wisdom with Hellenistic philosophic thought. See page 203 for a comparison of Wisdom (not just the Wisdom of Solomon but the concept of “Wisdom” more generically) to the Egyptian goddess, Isis. While acknowledging the “influences of a more mythological character,” a more thorough comparison is lacking. More recently, see John Kampen, “Chapter 16: Wisdom Literature of the Apocrypha and Related Compositions of the Second Temple Era,” and Jason M. Zurawski, “Chapter 19: The Wisdom of Solomon,” in The Oxford Handbook of the Apocrypha (ed. Gerbern S. Oegema; New York: Oxford, ), 271–83 and 335–59.
8.
Grabbe, Wisdom of Solomon, 87–91; Niehoff’s conclusion reiterates this belief in “Die Sapientia Salomonis und Philon–Vertreter derselben alexandrinisch-jüdischen Religionspartei?” 271. See also Andrew T. Glicksman, Wisdom of Solomon 10: A Jewish Hellenistic Reinterpretation of Early Israelite History Through Sapiential Lenses, DCLS 9 (Berlin: De Gruyter, ).
9.
Randall D. Chesnutt, “Wisdom of Solomon,” in The Wiley Blackwell Companion to Wisdom Literature (ed. Samuel L. Adams and Matthew Goff; Hoboken, NJ: Wiley, 2020), 112–13; Clifford, The Wisdom Literature, 8–9; Mark R. Sneed, The Social World of the Sages, 360–63; Niebuhr, “Die Sapienta Salomonis im Kontext,” 246–56; Kolarcik, Introduction and annotations to Wisdom in The New Oxford Annotated Bible, 1450, 60–61; Luca Mazzinghi, Wisdom, IECOT (trans. Michael Tait; Stuttgart: Kohlhammer, ), 36–40. These writers acknowledge the advocacy of certain concepts within (middle) Platonism and Stoicism, while rejecting Hedonistic notions associated with Epicureanism (e.g. Wis 2.6–9).
10.
Niebuhr, “Die Sapientia Salomonis,” 220.
11.
Ibid.
12.
Ibid., 248.
13.
Ibid., 250–51.
14.
Ibid., 255.
15.
For recent discussion, see Zurawski, “The Wisdom of Solomon,” 342–44.
16.
While an explicit acknowledgment that Middle Platonism is a merging of Stoic and Platonic thought (above), a fine line is being drawn in this article to distinguish this idea (i.e., Middle Platonism) from the more general “Greek philosophical thought”. This distinction is an effort to suggest that the author of Middle Platonism is doing something more than simply channeling miscellaneous neo-Pythagorean, Stoic, Platonic, or Epicurean ideas into a smorgasbord of Greek philosophical ideas mixed into a Jewish world view.
17.
For a study on the exegetical practices of the author of Wisdom and some of the influences that can be witnessed therein, see Peter Enns, Exodus Retold: Ancient Exegesis of the Departure from Egypt in Wis 10:15–21 and 19:1–9, Harvard Semitic Museum Monographs 57 (Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1997), with a relevant summary pertaining to this study on pages 144–54.
18.
An interesting recent case of philosophic ‘reservation’ is that of M. Kraus, The Jewish Annotated Apocrypha (ed. Jonathan Klawans and Lawrence M. Wills; New York: Oxford, ), who acknowledges Wisdom as an excellent example of Jewish Hellenism, and in particular, the “author’s linguistic mastery” in regard to Greek rhetorical technique (391), however is rather reserved about noting Wisdom’s debt to a Greek philosophical tradition.
19.
That which might be “gained” from studying Wisdom closely through a comparison with systematic Middle Platonic categories is deeper insight into the rigor and specificity of such compositions (e.g. Winston, The Wisdom of Solomon, Niebuhr, Sapientia Salomonis (Weisheit Salomos), or G. E. Sterling, “The Love of Wisdom: Middle Platonism and Stoicism in the Wisdom of Solomon,” in From Stoicism to Platonism: The Development of Philosophy, 100 BCE–100 CE (ed. T. Engberg-Pedersen; Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, ), 212–13, could serve as examples). Through not only the “theological” analysis of Wisdom, but also the philosophical analysis, deeper insight and appreciation for the historical, sociological, and intellectual context of Wisdom might be possible.
20.
One might ask why I have not included “Logic.” The answer to this question resides in the fact that what remains of Plutarch’s writings deals lightly with Logic. Dillon writes, “Plutarch did write a Lecture on the Ten Categories, now lost, of which one would dearly love to know the contents” (Middle Platonists, 225). In addition to this, we are aware that Plutarch also wrote several documents entitled A Reply to Chrysippus on the First Consequent and on Tautology. Also, I would love to know the content of these documents due to the fact that Wisdom is produced by a rhetorician, which technically falls into the category of Logic. See Dillon, Middle Platonists, 226 and in Perdue, Wisdom Literature, 293, especially footnote 113 and Perdue, The Sword and the Stylus, 323–27 for further discussion of the rhetorical quality of Wisdom.
21.
In my organization of Plutarch’s philosophical concepts, I am largely indebted to the work of Dillon’s Middle Platonists fourth chapter entitled “Plutarch of Chaeroneia and the Origins of Second Century Platonism,” 184–230.
22.
A full treatment of this subject, for instance in monograph form, would certainly detail not only a catalog of comparison points between Plutarch’s philosophical thought to that of Wisdom, but also a detailed analysis of points of contrast between them. This latter area of inquiry (i.e., contrasts between the two and negations of other philosophical schools of thought, for instance) is that which is lacking in this study. The confines of an academic article’s length restrict this more detailed analysis. However, as a test case for analyzing this subject, I think the present essay must be sufficient as an initial comparison. Furthermore, this should be enough to support additional inquiry into this field of research.
23.
David A. Desilva notes that the possibilities extend possibly even from 220 B.C.E. to 100 C.E. (Introducing the Apocrypha: Message, Context, and Significance [Grand Rapids: Baker, 2002], 132). Of course, he is simply reminding the readers of the disputed evidence of S. Holmes, “The Wisdom of Solomon,” in The Apocrypha and Pseudepigrapha of the Old Testament in English (ed. R. H. Charles; 2 vols.; Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1913), 1:518–68 and the work of J. Reider, The Book of Wisdom (New York: Harper & Brothers, 1957), 14, that suggests any familiarity with the New Testament writings. For a deeper discussion on this issue, see Winston, The Wisdom of Solomon, 20–25 and for the discussion on Wisdom’s connections with Paul in Romans, see Folker Blischke, “Die Sapientia Salomonis und Paulus,” in Sapientia Salomonis, 273–91; and Jonathan A. Linebaugh, God, Grace, and Righteousness in Wisdom of Solomon and Paul’s Letter to the Romans: Texts in Conversation, NovTSup 152 (Leiden: Brill, ). Winston rests on a terminus a quem of 30 B.C.E. (i.e., post-Augustus), and most likely being written during the reign of Emperor Gaius Caligula (37–41 C.E.). See also Perdue, Sword and the Stylus, 311; and Pieter W. van der Horst, Philo’s Flaccus 2. The First Pogrom. Introduction, Translation and Commentary (Philo of Alexandria Commentary Series; Leiden: Brill, 2003), 34–38. He dates the composition to the last year of the Roman Prefect of Egypt, Avilus Flaccus when the pogrom of the Jews was taking place in 38 C.E.
24.
See the comments by Perdue, Sword and the Stylus, 310–13 and idem., Wisdom Literature, 271–73, for further discussion of social location of the Wisdom of Solomon in Hellenistic Jewish Literature and within the Alexandrian context. I think it should go without saying that I am not attempting to provide a complete historical introduction for Wisdom. Most recently, note the recent study comparing Wisdom to Barnabas as it pertains to the oppression of Jews by gentiles in Joseph R. Dodson, “Rejection and Redemption in the Wisdom of Solomon and the Letter of Barnabas,” CBQ 80 (): 45–61.
25.
This assumption that speechmaking and writing go hand in hand is somewhat of an overstatement, but I believe that the overlap is apparent at some level. See Abraham J. Malherbe, Ancient Epistolary Theorists, SBLSBS 19 (ed. Bernard Brandon Scott; Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1988).
26.
See Perdue, Wisdom Literature, 293–95. At this point, I will not attempt to settle the dispute of epideictic/demonstrative oratory or protreptic discourse. See deSilva, Introducing, 134.
27.
Dillon, Middle Platonists, 184. On page 2 of Donald Andrew Russell’s Plutarch (New York: Charles Scribner’s Sons, 1973), he suggests a birth date of 46–48 C.E.
28.
Plutarch, “The E at Delphi,” Moralia (ed. and trans. Frank Cole Babbitt; LCL; vol. 5; Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1962), 385 B-C. For the remainder of the essay, I will refer to the works of the Moralia with just the title, Moralia, with the Loeb Classical Libraries divisions (i.e., 354B–384C).
29.
Or as Dillon suggests “perhaps we should say, a Platonic Academy.” See Dillon, Middle Platonist, 184.
30.
Ibid., 184. Dillon takes the evidence back to Eunapius, Lives of the Philosophers, p. 454, Boissonade).
31.
Russell, Plutarch, 7. Specifically see Moralia, 678C, “The awkward problem that turns up of finding places for guests at table was the subject of considerable discussion at the parties that each of my friends gave me on my return from Alexandria.”
32.
Russell, Plutarch, 7 and “Isis and Osiris,” Moralia 351D–384C. As mentioned in footnote 4 above, this connection is noted also by Collins, Jewish Wisdom, 203.
33.
Dillon, Middle Platonists, 231.
34.
These figures are not to be taken literally, but rather are suggestive to make the point clear.
35.
Dillon, Middle Platonists, 186.
36.
Ibid.
37.
Many thanks are in order for John Dillon’s reconstruction of Middle Platonism within The Middle Platonists.
38.
Dillon, Middle Platonists, 193.
39.
Plutarch, Moralia, 550E.
40.
Plutarch, “The Divine Judgment,” Moralia, 550D-E. See also Dillon, Middle Platonists, 192–93 for extended quote and comments.
41.
As one can begin to see at this point, the separation of themes, which I am looking at such as “World Soul” and “Monad and Dyad,” can be somewhat misleading, because in reality there is a tremendous amount of overlap in the concepts. I am simply highlighting different themes, so that they each in turn might be further illuminated for the purpose of critical inquiry.
42.
Plutarch, Moralia, 1014E.
43.
See Plato, “Timaeus, 45B and 39B,” in Plato VII (ed. R. G. Bury; LCL; London: Heinemann, 1929). Also see Plutarch, Moralia, 958E.
44.
Emphasis added.
45.
Plutarch, Moralia, 550E.
46.
Dillon refers to this as “quietude.” Dillon, Middle Platonists, 193.
47.
Ibid., 193.
48.
Dillon, Middle Platonists, 193–98.
49.
Moralia, 440D-452.
50.
Ibid., 440D.
51.
ibid., 440E-441D.
52.
Ibid., 441D-E.
53.
Ibid., 441E.
54.
Ibid., 441F-442A.
55.
Ibid., 442A.
56.
Ibid., 442E.
57.
Ibid., 443C-444C.
58.
Ibid., 444C.
59.
Ibid., 444C-D.
60.
Dillon, Middle Platonists, 215 and Moralia, 591B.
61.
Dillon, Middle Platonists, 196.
62.
Plutarch, Per. 5.2; 7.4, 39.1; Fab. 1.3.
63.
It goes without saying that there is much more literature to be found on such a subject, considering that the Lives are devoted to such descriptions of “great leaders.”
64.
Dillon, Middle Platonists, 198.
65.
To be fair, one should take note that some scholars consider this work of Plutarch to be spurious. A good summary of this issue over the last two centuries—and further advancement of the position—is presented by G. J. D. Aalders, “Plutarch or Pseudo-Plutarch? The Authorship of De Unius in Re Publica Dominatione,” Mnemosyne 35 (1982): 72–83. Dillon makes no comment upon this discussion, but simply assumes Plutarch to be the author (Middle Platonists, 198). While noting the potential weakness in citing Un. rep. dom., I will quickly add that what evidence I draw in support of Plutarch’s views on politics are not uniquely articulated within this work, but can be evidenced in Plutarch’s thoughts elsewhere. However, I did find it to serve as a clear preamble to the evidence in Plutarch’s Life of Pericles regarding politics.
66.
Moralia, 826B-C. Also see the comments of Hubert Ashton Holden, Plutarch’s Life of Pericles: Greek Text, Introduction, Critical Notes, Explanatory Notes, Vocabulary Indices (Chicago: Bolchazy-Carducci, 1894), xxi.
67.
Ibid., 827B-C.
68.
Aurelio Pérez Jimenéz, “Exemplum: The Paradigmatic Education of the Ruler in the Lives of Plutarch,” in Sage and Emperor: Plutarch, Greek Intellectuals, and Roman Power in the Time of Trajan (98-117 A. D.) (ed. Philip A. Stadter and Luc Van der Stockt; Leuven: Leuven University Press, 2002).
69.
That is, the building of the Parthenon and other such structures on the Acropolis.
70.
Life of Pericles, II.4.
71.
Ibid., IX.1.
72.
Ibid., IV.3-V.
73.
Ibid., XXXV.1–2.
74.
Ibid., VII.4–6.
75.
Emphasis added.
76.
The philosophical overtones are noted by Winston (The Wisdom of Solomon, 114, 121). Most notably, a retort against a “grossly distorted understanding of Epicureanism” (Winston, The Wisdom of Solomon, 114; or possibly Sadducees, writes M. Kraus, “The Wisdom of Solomon,” 395!). See also Niebuhr, “Die Sapientia Salomonis im Kontext hellenisch-römischer Philosophie,” 246–48; Michael Kolarcik, The Ambiguity of Death in the Book of Wisdom 1–6: A Study of Literary Structure and Interpretation, AnBib 127 (Rome: Pontifical Biblical Institute, 1991), 117; A. Dupont–Sommer, “Les «impies» du Livre de la Sagesse ne sont-ils pas des Épicuriens?” RHR 111 (1935): 90–112.
77.
ϕρόνησις and σοϕία are used interchangeably in reference to Wisdom. See 6.9, 12 in the same context as 6.15.
78.
Wis 5.15.
79.
Wis 6.15.
80.
Wis 13.13. For further discussion on the “wood-cutter,” see 11.15–26; 12.3–11, and more broadly Wis 13–15; Leo G. Perdue, Wisdom and Cult: A Critical Analysis of the Views of Cult in the Wisdom Literatures of Israel and the Ancient Near East, SBLDS 30 (Missoula: Scholars Press, 1977), 211–15.
81.
Wis 15.1-5. This is also reiterated in 15.16-17.
82.
It is interesting to note that a “godless” person from the perspective of Wisdom is someone who is not interested in pursuing knowledge or σοϕία.
83.
Collins, Jewish Wisdom, 229–31.
84.
Tobias Nicklas discusses the Hellenistic-influenced idea pertaining to the “food of angels” (ἀ(od of a, Wis 16.20) that in some way represents the “eating” of food with immortal qualities that in turn grants immortality, in his article, “‘Food of Angels’ (Wis 16:20),” in Studies in the Book of Wisdom, 83–100.
85.
The uncial Sinaiticus * and the minuscules 411 and 705 support such a reading.
86.
Emphasis added.
87.
See Moyna McGlynn, “Solomon, Wisdom and the Philosopher-Kings,” in Studies in the Book of Wisdom, 61–81; and also ibid., Divine Judgement and Divine Benevolence in the Book of Wisdom, WUNT 2.139 (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2001), 13–15.
88.
In Wisdom 14.16, monarchs are spoken poorly of, for their “command” to carve and worship false images.
89.
See the comments of Winston, The Wisdom of Solomon, 162–63.
90.
The Old Testament Pseudepigrapha Volume 2, (ed. James H. Charlesworth; New York: Doubleday, 1985), 30.
91.
See Perdue’s discussion in Social History, under “Graeco-Roman State Religion,” in chapter 7.
92.
For a general discussion, see Helmut Koester, Introduction to the New Testament, Volume 1: History, Culture, and Religion of the Hellenistic Age (New York: Walter de Gruyter, 1982), 366–71.
93.
This is particularly pertinent to the problems that Christians were also having at a later time. See for instance the difficulty presented to Pliny the Younger, 10.96. See also the discussion on “Image and Portrait in roman Culture and Religion,” especially pp. 51–58 in Robin Margaret Jensen’s Face to Face: Portraits of the Divine in Early Christianity (Minneapolis: Fortress, 2005).
94.
95.
δυάς, δυάδος.
96.
Dillon, Middle Platonists, 199.
97.
Ibid., 201.
98.
“Obsolescence of Oracles,” Moralia, 428F.
99.
Dillon, Middle Platonists, 199.
100.
Also referred to as the κακοποιός ψυχή (maleficent soul).
101.
Dillon, Middle Platonists, 200–208.
102.
Moralia, 393A.
103.
This is working off of Plato, Timaeus, 35C.
104.
One could work through “On the Generation of the Soul in the Timaeus,” Moralia, 1012B-1030C for a much more detailed treatment of many of these concepts.
105.
See Dillon, Middle Platonists, 216.
106.
See “On the Obsolescence of Oracles,” Moralia, 416C-E.
107.
Dillon, Middle Platonists, 216–17.
108.
See the extended comment by Plutarch on this in “On the Daemons of Socrates,” Moralia, 591A-593D ff. An example which I think is quite useful goes as follows: “I will explain: every soul partakes of understanding; none is irrational or unintelligent. But the portion of the soul that mingles with flesh and passions suffers alteration and becomes in the pleasures and pains it undergoes irrational. Not every soul mingles to the same extent: some sink entirely into the body, and becoming disordered throughout, are during their life wholly distracted by passions; others mingle in part, but leave outside what is purest in them. This is not dragged in with the rest, but is like a buoy attached to the top, floating on the surface in contact with the man’s head, while his as it were submerged in the depths; and it supports as much of the soul, which is held upright about it, as is obedient and not overpowered by the passions. Now the part carried submerged in the body is called the soul, whereas the part left free from corruption is called by the multitude the understanding, who take it to be within themselves, as they take reflected objects to be in the mirrors that reflect them; but those who conceive the matter rightly call it a daemon, as being external.”
109.
Moralia, 591A-B.
110.
Ibid., 591C.
111.
On the World Soul and the materialist physics in Wisdom, see Clifford, The Wisdom Literature, 9.
112.
See also Wis 7.22.
113.
For an examination of creation, with some attention to philosophic ideas influencing the theology of Wisdom 11, see the discussion of Samuel Cheon, The Exodus Story in the Wisdom of Solomon: A Study in Biblical Interpretation, JSP 23 (Sheffield: Sheffield, 1997), 122–24.
114.
This can be seen in Plutarch in Moralia, 1013C-1014B and 373C. See also Plato, Timaeus 50D. See Winston, The Wisdom of Solomon, 233, for a listing of several other sources.
115.
Wis 8.19–20; 11.17; cf. Chesnutt, “Wisdom of Solomon,” 113.
116.
Wis 2.1.
117.
See also Wis 5.15.
118.
“their” refers back to those who “despise wisdom and instruction.” See Wis 3.11.
119.
Wisdom 17.1 says, “Great are your judgments and hard to describe; therefore uninstructed souls have gone astray.”
120.
On “pleasing God” as a central ethic of the Wisdom tradition, see Annette Schellenberg, “Don’t Throw the Baby Out with the Bathwater: On the Distinctness of the Sapiential Understanding of the World,” in Was There a Wisdom Tradition? New Prospects in Israelite Wisdom Studies (ed. Mark R. Sneed; Atlanta: SBL, 2015), 130–31.
121.
Emphasis added.
122.
Wisdom 14.11. See comments by Sneed, The Social World of the Sages, 361; Clifford, The Wisdom Literature, 9.
123.
Note M. Kraus’ comments on this point: “We detect the Jewish and Greek education of the writer in the content, structure, and style of the work” (“The Wisdom of Solomon,” 391).