Friday, February 1, 2019

Epictetus’ Enchiridion Expanded_Section §1.15.1.1_On Well-mannered Dinner Parties. Or, Living Courteously.



~by David Aiken~

§ 2 “Ench”, 1.15.1.1
TRANSLATION (AIKEN)— Remember: you should behave in public as if you were a guest at a great dinner party. Is there a plate that is being passed around the table? Does it get all the way (2) around to you? Stretching out your hand and welcoming it, partake (3) politely in the banquet. Is it passing you by? Do not (4) try to stop it. Has it not come around to you at all? Do not set your heart upon it to desire it any further; rather, wait, until it should come around to you [5].
When you act with this same type of reserve toward your children, and toward your wife, and toward those who hold public office, [6] and toward prosperity, eventually you shall even be a fitting dinner guest for the gods. [7] And if, even after having been served many times, you still have not taken anything for yourself, but have decided to take no notice, [8] then not only shall you be a fitting dinner guest [9] for the gods, but, indeed, one of their equals. For it is by doing this that Diogenes and Heraclitus and [10] others like them, not only were more than mere men, but, quite appropriately, they were also said to be so.
         2 “Ench”, 1.15.1.1
Me÷mnhso, o¢ti wJß e˙n sumposi÷wˆ se dei√ aÓnastre÷fesqai. perifero/menon ge÷gone÷ ti kata» se÷: e˙ktei÷naß th\n cei√ra 3 kosmi÷wß meta¿labe. pare÷rcetai: mh\ ka¿tece. ou¡pw h¢kei: mh\ e˙pi÷balle po/rrw th\n o¡rexin, aÓlla» peri÷mene, me÷criß a·n ge÷nhtai kata» 5 se÷. ou¢tw pro\ß te÷kna, ou¢tw pro\ß gunai√ka, ou¢tw pro\ß aÓrca¿ß, 6 ou¢tw pro\ß plouvton: kai« e¶shØ pote« a‡xioß tw◊n qew◊n sumpo/thß. 7 a·n de« kai« parateqe÷ntwn soi mh\ la¿bhØß, aÓll’ uJperi÷dhØß, 8 to/te ouj mo/non sumpo/thß tw◊n qew◊n e¶shØ, aÓlla» kai« suna¿rcwn. ou¢tw ga»r poiw◊n Dioge÷nhß kai« ÔHra¿kleitoß kai« 10 oi˚ o¢moioi aÓxi÷wß qei√oi÷ te h™san kai« e˙le÷gonto. 

15. Remember that you must behave in life as at a dinner party. Is anything brought around to you? Put out your hand and take your share with moderation. Does it pass by you? Don't stop it. Is it not yet come? Don't stretch your desire towards it, but wait till it reaches you. Do this with regard to children, to a wife, to public posts, to riches, and you will eventually be a worthy partner of the feasts of the gods. And if you don't even take the things which are set before you, but are able even to reject them, then you will not only be a partner at the feasts of the gods, but also of their empire. For, by doing this, Diogenes, Heraclitus and others like them, deservedly became, and were called, divine.

A Summer's Garden Party
§ Philosophical Courtesy through imperatives
            The structure of this §15 of Epictetus’ Enchiridion is grounded in its imperatives…
Remember [imperat]: you should behave in public as if you were a guest at a great dinner party. Is there a plate that is being passed around the table? Does it get all the way (2) around to you? Stretching out your hand and welcoming it, partake [imperat] (3) politely in the banquet. Is it passing you by? Do not (4) try to stop it [imperat]. Has it not come around to you at all? Do not set your heart upon it [imperat] to desire it any further [po/rrw]; rather, wait [imperat], until it should come around to you [5].
1. Remember (1) [imperat]:
2. partake (2) [imperat]
4 Do not (4) try to stop it [imperat].
4b. Do not set your heart upon it [imperat]
4b. wait [imperat]

The take-away philosophical moral-of-the-story from this dinner party metaphor, which has played out for us in the form of a courtesy list of imperative to-does, only becomes absolutely clear with the houto [ou¢tw] in line 5, where Epictetus concludes: [5]. When you act with this same reserve [ou¢tw] toward your children, and toward your wife, and toward those who hold public office, [6] and toward prosperity, you shall even be, eventually, a fitting dinner guest for the gods.

Specific Imperatives
There are effective equivalences of expression in this text. The imperative phrase in line 4 [mh\ e˙pi÷balle po/rrw th\n o¡rexin]—Do not set your heart upon it to desire it any further, is equivalent to the sentiment expressed in line 7 [mh\ la¿bhØß, aÓll’ uJperi÷dhØß]; [7] And if, even after having been served many times, you still have not taken anything for yourself, but have decided to take no notice… [aÓll’ uJperi÷dhØß].

On Partaking [metalabe - [meta¿labe]. (2b) Does [the plate] get all the way (2) around to you? Stretching out your hand and welcoming it, partake (3) politely in the banquet.
In the Enchiridion, ‘partake’ is a hapax usage, per Perseus, although Epictetus uses the term twice in the Discourses (Bk. 1, ch. 8; and Bk. 4, ch. 13). In our text the first level or literal meaning, of taking and eating, is clearly intact, and does not distract the reader from the second level of meaning, the more metaphorical or philosophical sense, where what Epictetus really intends for us, in our embracing of a philosophical disposition of mind, is not only to accept what the world brings us, but actively and courteously, to reach out for the plate that Life is passing around to us every minute of every day.
The NT usage of this term confirms its typical association with eating (cf. Acts 2.46; 27.33), although the metaphorical sense, which is found primarily in harvesting images, dominates in the Book of Hebrews 6.7, 12.10, as well as in II Timothy 2.6.

On Remembering [memnhso - Me÷mnhso]. One might almost make the case that a nickname for the Enchiridion could be ‘My philosophical things to remember list…’, because memnhso is used some 17 times in the Enchiridion (Enchr. 1.2, 1.4; 2.1; 3.2; 10.1; here in 15.1; 17.1; 20.1; 22.7; 25.5; 26.10; 32.1, 32.2; 33.14; 34.4; 36.7; 42.1; 46.4; 51.2), of which 7 occurrences are in the first sentence of a complex clause, which is to say, in the emphatic position. All this to say, in a round-about kind of way, that ‘remembering’ is very important to Epictetus.

§ On dinner parties in ancient Greece: symposia versus syssitia
There are only two places in the Enchiridion where Epictetus encourages his listeners to participate in symposia, which is here in §15 and later in §46. In this section, for example, we are encouraged to partake (3) politely in the banquet [symposium], because, insists our philosopher-teacher, When you act with this same type of reserve toward your children, and toward your wife, and toward those who hold public office, [6] and toward prosperity, eventually you shall even be a fitting dinner guest for the gods. For Epictetus, there is an absolute connection between our courteous conduct at dinner parties in general, and our philosophical fitness to handle the greater dinner-party of Life.
Now, as surprising as it may seem, Lynch affirms (2007, 243) that there is absolute scholarly consensus on the idea that “[t]he symposium is a defining characteristic of Greek culture (Murray 1983b, 258; cf. Veyne, 2000, 4).” So, Epictetus’ use of the symposium as the setting for his philosophical teaching is obviously not just simply a rhetorical conceit, but it is culturally significant.
According to Erickson (2011, 382), ancient Greece (if one may judge by Cretan archaeology, at any rate) hosted a public feeding venue, i.e., an institution called the syssition, which was a more like a public dining “redistribution mechanism.” This public feeding trough, though, apparently stood in “sharp contrast to the symposium, a voluntary association of aristocratic banqueters assembled by private invitation.” So, there is class distinction to take into consideration when planning our non-metaphorical dinner parties, which is as important as when planning a week-end soirée with friends and acquaintance —it becomes important to think about who gets to sit next to whom.
To answer the question, then, about who precisely attended symposia in ancient Greece? All scholarship combined, it would seem that while public feedings (syssitia) were essentially for the ancient Greek world’s All & Sundry of the Great Unwashed variety, the symposium, on the other hand, was reserved for those of the Hoity-Toity class.
Participants in the symposium represent a leisure class with the time and economic resources to develop and maintain the broad range of cultural competences required for acceptance in the circle of egalitarian drinkers. The institution served not only to exclude non-elites and those who could no longer contribute their proper share to the banqueting (often called the akletoi, or uninvited guests), but also, [Wecowski] argues, to incorporate as equals additional members into the aristocracy (Foley 2015, 269).

Wecowski (in Foley, 2015) buttresses his interpretation of antiquity’s symposia by citing from the elegiac poet Theognis, thereby contextualizing Epictetus’ case that appropriate table etiquette at the Feast of Life will eventually make all the difference in the philosophical quality of our lives. The Archaic symposiastic poet Theognis at a later date tries to distinguish for the young Kyrnos among elites who will benefit him and those who will not (pp. 63–64), (Foley, 272).
In the particular, Wecowski is probably referring to passages in Theognis such as 19-38 (Tufts: Perseus):
Cyrnus, that I shall give thee the counsels which I learnt from good men in my own childhood. Be thou wise and draw to thyself neither honours nor virtues nor substance on account of dishonourable or unrighteous deeds. This then I would have thee to know, nor to consort with the bad but ever to cleave unto the good, and at their tables to eat and to drink, and with them to sit, and them to please, for their power is great. Of good men shalt thou learn good, but if thou mingle with the bad, thou shalt e'en lose the wit thou hast already. Consort therefore with the good, and someday thou'lt say that I counsel my friends aright.

Wecowski continues on to give a quasi-complete historical context on the question of symposia in antiquity:
The Archaic and Classical symposium proper commences after a meal, or deipnon, has been completed and closes with a departing komos. it takes place at night, often includes excessive or “sport drinking” (polyposia) that lasts until dawn, and does not need a festal occasion to take place. Characteristic of the symposium proper for w. are drinking patterns involving the passing of cups and table talk from left to right (epidexia or endexia) in a circle with a large wine krater at the center. Toasts, jokes, riddles, songs, or games like kottabos involving the tossing of wine-lees at a target (among many other practices) circulated in a similar fashion. The exception was skolia, songs capped by drinkers holding twigs in a random (“crooked”) order. Competition and rivalry among participants was common and included offering prizes for winners like kisses and ritual humiliation for losers such as stripping off a participant’s clothing. Defined by customs practiced in a private setting, the symposium was about “dynamically defining the aristocracy, deciding who was and was not to be counted, and providing those admitted with a perfect forum to confirm, display, and negotiate their aristocratic status. It was the ultimate setting for achieving social recognition by those aspiring to the status of the aristoi” (p. 77). Despite its excesses, however, the symposium tested its members’ ability to maintain mental and physical equilibrium while drinking (pp. 43, 102, 122). (Foley, 269-270)

A Theoxeny of Dionysios
§ Theoxenia – the magical framing for Enchiridion §15
Ms. Carter’s translation of Ench. §15, where the reader gets the impression that those who conduct themselves well at dinner parties will eventually become, morally by implication, a fitting dinner guest for the gods, is reminiscent of the ‘crowns in heaven’ rhetoric of later Protestant Christianity—if the Christian lives his life well, then rewards will be laid up for him in heaven. (For the sake of the reference: there are five key passages in the NT that reference believers receiving a “crown” (1 Cor. 9:25; 1 Thess. 2:19; 2 Tim. 4:8; James 1:12; 1 Pet. 5:4)). Epictetus’ magical world-frame, however, is far different from the Christianized world of Ms. Carter’s imagination.
Once upon a pre-scientific time the world was, indeed, truly magical and therefore infinitely more complex and perilous than the one-dimensional sphere of the modern, empirically exacting worldview. For the world-become-modern, hosting a simple dinner party with friends and guests is a rather unexceptional happenstance; but in an earlier version of the world, such as that typified by ancient Greece, a simple dinner party could well turn out to be a mytho-level event unexpectedly attended by a whole coterie of divine attendees, all anxious to put a little something tasty across the barrier of their celestial teeth, as Homer might have epically said. The Greeks referred to this fortuitous and unlooked-for good luck, i.e., having divine dinner guests, as theoxeny or theoxenia—having an unknown and unexpected god-guest. That ancient world, therefore, was necessarily host to a very real quandary—how to conduct oneself at a dinner party where, possibly, one might well be extending courtesy and hospitality to powerful and vindictive celestial visitors. The attitude Epictetus suggests in this situation is in line 6: If, at table, you act with this same reserve toward your children, and toward your wife, and toward those who hold public office, [6] and toward prosperity, you shall even be, eventually, a fitting dinner guest for the gods.
The French archaeologist and historian, Paul Veyne, confirms (2000, 4) that inviting guests to the ancient Greek symposium-dinner party was a privilege and practice of the rich; however, he reminds us also to keep in mind, as well, that “To dream that one receives (hupodekhesthai) a god,” says the Interpretation of Dreams, “reveals to the wealthy man woes, grief, and much trouble, because those who are in difficult circumstances sacrifice to the gods and receive them.”
NB (Ed.): the Clé des songes refers to the Onirocriticon of Artemidorus of Ephesus, a Greek diviner, or interpreter of signs and omens, who flourished around the second century A.D.

Veyne (2000: 5, 19) goes on to show that any number of the rich & famous of the day, such as the poets Bacchylides and Sophocles, who were thought to have been visited by the Dioscuri or by Asclepios, or by Dionysus [link to British Museum], had extended ungrudging hospitality to their divine guests, and then draws (2000:20) the appropriate conclusion concerning the dangerous ambiguity couched at the center of the magical world-frame of the ancient Greeks:
Such was precisely the invisible presence of the god or hero, reclining on the couch that one had prepared for him, who accepted the invitation of the host in these theoxenia. Overwhelming presence, when the believer would take these theoxenies literally, failing to see the metaphor. A metaphor that was being acted out before him: public and private theoxenies had always transposed the public or domestic practices of hospitality; one invites (kalein) the god, one receives the god (hupodekhesthai), one gives the god hospitality (xenizein), one offers to the god the customary meal (the xenia) and gifts (the xenia).

However, theoxeny in antiquity should not be given short-shrift as only a fanciful fairytale or metaphorical element of the mythological or poetic texts of ancient Greece. This magical frame also wends its way through the Jewish-Christian biblical narrative, complete with the idea that the celestial visitors are both powerful and vindictive.
Abraham: While the appearance of gods, i.e., the theophany, is a standard element in the biblical narratives, the thread of entertaining and feasting gods (theoxeny) first shows up in the Hebrew narrative in Genesis 18. The commentaries seem fairly unanimous in interpreting this text as a personal theophany involving Jehovah et al. (because they were three); and the language of theophany in this text is persuasive: ‘The Lord’ in line 1 is noble [ θεὸς; אֵלָיו֙ יְהֹוָ֔ה]; while the ‘lord’ in line 3 [kύριε; אֲדֹנָי] is the generic equivalent to Mister or Sir; otherwise, the ‘Lord’, per lines 13, 14, 17, 19 and 33 [κύριος ; יְהֹוָ֖ה], is theophanic.
But Genesis 18 is not simply the recounting of a theologically highfalutin divine appearance—a simple theophany; rather, it was a sumptuous theoxeny, because the fare at this ad hoc smorgasbord set out by Abraham was bread, fine cakes, and calf in a bed of curds and milk. The upshot of this spontaneous and generous dinner-party, which turns out to be rather more theoxenic than theophanic, is two-fold. First, the pregnancy of the giggling wife Sarah, which is the promise of the birth of Isaac (whose name means ‘to laugh’); and second, the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah. There is no indication that the cast of characters in Genesis 18 is necessarily carried over into the beginning of Chapter 19, which recounts the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah, nor that the two ‘angels’ of 19:1 [οἱ ἄγγελοι ; הַמַּלְאָכִ֤ים] are narratively continued or somehow reprised from the three ‘men’ of Chapter 18.
            Lot: The theoxenic theme continues on into Chapter 19, which is not simply an angelic theophany chez Lot, but rather another dinner-party with celestial visitors, although again, like Abraham, Lot does not seem to recognize his visitors as divine: (ln. 3)—And [Lot] urged them strongly, and they turned in to him, and came into his house, and he made them a feast, and he baked unleavened cakes, and they ate.
            Gideon: An angel of the Lord [ἄγγελος κυρίου; מַלְאַ֣ךְ יְהֹוָ֗ה] appears to Gideon in line 11 of Judges 6, and gives him a ceremonial blessing, calling him a mighty warrior, to which Gideon responds with some degree of petulance. This would seem to suggest that, like Abraham and Lot before him, Gideon also does not recognize the divine visitor, nor understand that this is a theophanic visitation. As if to confirm his nagging suspicion, though, Gideon invites his optimistic guest to stay for dinner, which transforms theophany into theoxeny, and his invitation is accepted (lns. 17-18). So, Gideon went inside, prepared a young goat, and from an ephah of flour he made bread without yeast. Putting the meat in a basket and its broth in a pot, he brought them out and offered them to him under the oak. Now, there is no clear indication whether they actually ate any of the food Gideon had brought out, but Gideon acts properly in this story, displaying all the qualities that hospitality demands. The divine visitor, on the other hand, had a rather unusual response to the fine meal spread out before him.
20 The angel of God said to him, “Take the meat and the unleavened bread, place them on this rock, and pour out the broth.” And Gideon did so. 21 Then the angel of the Lord touched the meat and the unleavened bread with the tip of the staff that was in his hand. Fire flared from the rock, consuming the meat and the bread. And the angel of the Lord disappeared. 22 When Gideon realized that it was the angel of the Lord, he exclaimed, “Alas, Sovereign Lord! I have seen the angel of the Lord face to face!”

The author of the book of Judges seems to have run into a number of these situations where the divine visitor is offered the hospitality of the table (theoxeny), but then transforms the anticipated soirée into a mind- and dinner-blowing simple theophany. For the strange behavior of the angel at Gideon’s shindig seems to foreshadow the conduct of another divine visitor, who, in Judges 13, went calling to announce the birth of Samson.
15 Manoah said to the angel of the Lord, “We would like you to stay until we prepare a young goat for you.”
16 The angel of the Lord replied, “Even though you detain me, I will not eat any of your food. But if you prepare a burnt offering, offer it to the Lord.” (Manoah did not realize that it was the angel of the Lord.)
[…]
19 Then Manoah took a young goat, together with the grain offering, and sacrificed it on a rock to the Lord. And the Lord did an amazing thing while Manoah and his wife watched: 20 As the flame blazed up from the altar toward heaven, the angel of the Lord ascended in the flame.

Finally, the theoxenic thread of entertaining gods at dinner-parties in the Hebrew scriptures carries over into the New Testament, and actually gets translated into a moral imperative similar to what we are now discovering in Epictetus. One reads such a command idea in the Letter to the Hebrews, for example, where believers in the budding Jesus movement are admonished to remember the theoxeny (13:2):  Do not forget to show hospitality to strangers, for by so doing some people have shown hospitality to angels without knowing it.

Bellinis'The Feast of the Gods
§ Some thoughts on celestial dining habits in the Greek and Latin world.
            The magical frame in §15 of Epictetus’ Enchiridion is the copiously bedecked symposium with the occasional odd celestial attendee/s; and yet, despite this magical element, §15 is not at all a religious text, although Ms. Carter’s translation carries with it the Christianizing hint that the afterlife future for those who are well-mannered, is to feast with the gods. This point affords us therefore the opportunity to consider a rather unusual facet of the particular manifestation of theoxeny in antiquity, and to ask the question, what and how do the gods of antiquity nourish themselves, in their own feastings as well as in their moments of theoxenic splurging alongside the world’s ‘other’ occupants?
            In her paper “Feasting in Homeric Epic,” Susan Sherratt (2004, 303, deferring to Kirk 1990, p. 104) gets right to the literal point of our conversation:
It is particularly convenient that, because the gods have ichor rather than blood in their veins (Il. 5.341-342), they do not actually eat mortal meat, and are therefore content with the smell of fat burning around extracted bones […], leaving most of the more edible portions for their mortal co-feasters.

And again (Ibid., Nt. 5): “When the gods on Olympos feast, they may drink nectar rather than wine, but they do so with the same equipment and often are described in much the same language as mortal heroes in their earthly houses (Il. 1.493-611).”
In an extremely focused study concerning theoxeny in Latin poetry, and very specifically as that manifests in the 1st century AD Latin poet Valerius Flaccus, Sandra Romano Martin (2013) obviously finds the same phenomenon, but, she argues, to a much greater degree:
The Latin poets seem to actually give more space to banqueting gods, complete with drinking and dancing, than do the Greek poets, where this aspect is, by and large, glaringly absent. For example, in his Latin cover of Apollonius of Rhodes’ more famous Greek epic poem, Argonautica, Flaccus, a first century Roman poet (died c. AD 90) sets the following scene:
This gentle scene puts an end to the bitter debate that had taken place among the gods on Olympus immediately before in the poem (5.618 89). Night falls, and the banquet brings peace back to the divine assembly; the gods relax amongst cups of nectar, while contemplating the Muses' chorus and listening to the Gigantomachy through the voice of Apollo. Valerius Flaccus takes great pleasure in describing this scene and recreates it according to the traditional imagery of the gods residing in Olympus” (Martin, 2013, 667). It seems obvious that the motif for this scene (cf. M, 669), is Iliad 1.601-10:
So he (Hephaestus) spoke, and the goddess, white-armed Hera, smiled, [595] and smiling took in her hand the cup from her son. Then he poured wine for all the other gods from left to right, drawing forth sweet nectar from the bowl. And unquenchable laughter arose among the blessed gods, as they saw Hephaestus puffing through the palace. [600] Thus the whole day long till the setting of the sun they feasted, nor did their heart lack anything of the equal feast, nor of the beauteous lyre, that Apollo held, nor yet of the Muses, who sang, replying one to the other with sweet voices. But when the bright light of the sun was set, [605] they went each to his own house to take their rest, where for each one a palace had been built with cunning skill by the famed Hephaestus, the limping god; and Zeus, the Olympian, lord of the lightning, went to his couch, where of old he took his rest, whenever sweet sleep came upon him. [610] There went he up and slept, and beside him lay Hera of the golden throne.

Martin confirms that banqueting gods are not just stuffing their faces at table and emptying the horn of liquid plenty, but that they are actually also involved in doing some variation of celestial cavorting at the same time. Following on her above citation, Martin informs us that it is the second century Latin poet Apuleius who, in the Golden Ass (5.24=Metamorphoses), depicts a partying Venus dancing. So, it would seem that generally, at least as far as dancing and cavorting in the Homeric tradition, it is the Muses who like to hog the dance floor (see Homeric Hymn to Apollo, 186-206; Hesiod, Shield, 201-206), but they also had to share the glittering Disco/Mirror Ball on occasion with Hebe and Aphrodite, and a boisterously singing Artemis.

§ Theoxeny in the Bible: banquets and feasts in lieu of symposia and syssitia.
The word ‘symposium’ occurs only once in the NT, in the Gospel of Mark (6:39-41), which is also said to be the oldest of the Gospels, being dated from AD 66-70. The term is absent entirely from the LXX, however, which is dated at around the middle of the 2nd century BC.
There are several suggestive research implications one may deduce from this information. The first implication concerns the populist class of the audience that embraced the early Jesus Movement. By and large, the social class that was attracted to the teachings of Jesus came out of the poorer layers of Jewish culture; this public was both populist and non-Greek, for whom the idea of syssition, or the public feeding, would have been more familiar than the idea of symposium, which was “a privilege and practice of the rich.” And while there was indeed the idea of ‘making entertainment’ or ‘giving a reception’ (doxhn poihs: δοχὴν ποιῇς) in this modest Jewish strata, such as one finds referenced by Luke in his Gospel (5:29 and 14:13): …but when you give a reception, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, the blind…, these occurrences are one-off in the NT and do not occur in the LXX. Thus, adherents of the Jesus Movement were demonstrably the Jewish All & Sundry of the Great Unwashed sort, which would have corresponded more or less to the non-aristocratic class of Greek being fed at the syssitia. Even as a simple lexical element or as a cultural translation, however, the term syssition does not occur either in the LXX or in the NT; so, it seems obvious that neither the symposium nor the syssition were expressions of Jewish cultural phenomena. Taking note of the absence in the Bible of the Greek terms symposium and syssition, as they relate to theoxeny in a Greek cultural sense, it remains nevertheless clear that there is yet a Jewish or distinctly biblical notion for theoxeny. So arguably, for the purposes of a wider theory on this phenomenon, theoxeny may just be a transcending element of the mytho-magical narrative in general. Q.E.D.
A second research implication is that the occurrence of the term symposium in the Gospel of Mark suggests that the author of the Gospel, like Luke, was a cultural Greek, and was thus translating a Jewish cultural event, i.e., Jesus feeding the multitudes with the five loaves and two fishes in the Galilee, for a Greek cultural audience: Then Jesus directed them to have all the people sit down in groups on the green grass. So they sat down in groups of hundreds and fifties (NIV) [Mark, chapter 6. 39: ... Πέντε, καὶ δύο ἰχθύας. καὶ ἐπέταξεν αὐτοῖς ἀνακλιθῆναι πάντας συμπόσια συμπόσια ἐπὶ τῷ χλωρῷ χόρτῳ. καὶ ἀνέπεσαν πρασιαὶ πρασιαὶ κατὰ ἑκατὸν καὶ κατὰ πεντήκοντα.]
If we accept at face value the biblical narrative that sees in Jesus, as the figure of the Jewish Messiah, a divine man, then the conditions of theoxeny are met in the Feasting Jesus as they are met in the images of marriage feasts and great banquets that are scattered throughout the biblical narrative.

Biblical Feasts.
               I.         Some Examples of Normal and Supra-normal Religious Feasts and Festivals.
·      Exodus 12:48
But if a stranger sojourns with you, and celebrates the Passover to the LORD, let all his males be circumcised, and then let him come near to celebrate it; and he shall be like a native of the land. But no uncircumcised person may eat of it.
·      2 Kings 23:22
Surely such a Passover had not been celebrated from the days of the judges who judged Israel, nor in all the days of the kings of Israel and of the kings of Judah.
§  Exodus 5:1
And afterward Moses and Aaron came and said to Pharaoh, "Thus says the LORD, the God of Israel, 'Let My people go that they may celebrate a feast to Me in the wilderness.'"
§  Zechariah 8:19
Thus says the LORD of hosts, 'The fast of the fourth, the fast of the fifth, the fast of the seventh and the fast of the tenth months will become joy, gladness, and cheerful feasts for the house of Judah; so love truth and peace.'
·      Colossians 2:16-17
Therefore no one is to act as your judge in regard to food or drink or in respect to a festival or a new moon or a Sabbath day-- things which are a mere shadow of what is to come; but the substance belongs to Christ.

             II.         Partying Gods.
o   Job 1:6-7. The ‘gathering’ of the bene-elohim (normally translated as angels) in the palace of the Lord is suggestive of a ceremonial, and perhaps festive, occasion, but this particular text is not explicit. If this is a proper feast of the gods, such as one finds recounted in Il. I. 420-424, then it is at least not a proper depiction of theoxeny. Per Homer: Zeus went yesterday to Oceanus, to the blameless Ethiopians for a feast, and all the gods followed with him; but on the twelfth day he will come back again to Olympus. The proper theoxeny does not depict partying gods, but rather describes men hosting celestial beings.
§  6 One day the angels came to present themselves before the Lord, and Satan also came with them. 7 The Lord said to Satan, “Where have you come from?”
Satan answered the Lord, “From roaming throughout the earth, going back and forth on it.”

           III.         Banquets in End-Time or Apocalyptic Discourse; Imagery of the Wedding Feasts and Theoxeny
o   Isaiah 25:6
§  The LORD of hosts will prepare a lavish banquet for all peoples on this mountain; A banquet of aged wine, choice pieces with marrow, And refined, aged wine. [ἐπὶ τὸ ὄρος τοῦτο πίονται εὐφροσύνην πίονται]
o   Genesis 29:22
§  Laban gathered all the men of the place and made a feast.
o   Psalm 23:5
§  You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies; You have anointed my head with oil; My cup overflows.
o   Job 36:16
§  Then indeed, He enticed you from the mouth of distress, Instead of it, a broad place with no constraint; And that which was set on your table was full of fatness.
o   Isaiah 55:1-2
§  Ho! Every one who thirsts, come to the waters; And you who have no money come, buy and eat Come, buy wine and milk Without money and without cost. "Why do you spend money for what is not bread, And your wages for what does not satisfy? Listen carefully to Me, and eat what is good, And delight yourself in abundance.
o   Joel 2:24-26
§  The threshing floors will be full of grain, And the vats will overflow with the new wine and oil. "Then I will make up to you for the years That the swarming locust has eaten, The creeping locust, the stripping locust and the gnawing locust, My great army which I sent among you. "You will have plenty to eat and be satisfied And praise the name of the LORD your God, Who has dealt wondrously with you; Then My people will never be put to shame.
o   Exodus 24:11
§  Yet He did not stretch out His hand against the nobles of the sons of Israel; and they saw God, and they ate and drank.
o   Matthew 8:11-12
§  I say to you that many will come from east and west, and recline at the table with Abraham, Isaac and Jacob in the kingdom of heaven; but the sons of the kingdom will be cast out into the outer darkness; in that place there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.
o   The Parable of the Great Banquet or the Wedding Feast or the Marriage of the King's Son is a parable told by Jesus in the New Testament, found in Matthew Matthew 22:1-14 and Luke Luke 14:15-24. It is not to be confused with a different Parable of the Wedding Feast recorded in Luke's Gospel.
o   Matthew 22:2
§  The kingdom of heaven may be compared to a king who gave a wedding feast for his son.
o   Matthew 22:3-6
§  And he sent out his slaves to call those who had been invited to the wedding feast, and they were unwilling to come. "Again he sent out other slaves saying, 'Tell those who have been invited, "Behold, I have prepared my dinner; my oxen and my fattened livestock are all butchered and everything is ready; come to the wedding feast."' "But they paid no attention and went their way, one to his own farm, another to his business,
o   Matthew 25:1-10
§  Then the kingdom of heaven will be comparable to ten virgins, who took their lamps and went out to meet the bridegroom. "Five of them were foolish, and five were prudent. "For when the foolish took their lamps, they took no oil with them,
o   Luke 14:16-20 [δεῖπνον μέγα]
§  But He said to him, "A man was giving a big dinner, and he invited many; and at the dinner hour he sent his slave to say to those who had been invited, 'Come; for everything is ready now.' "But they all alike began to make excuses. The first one said to him, 'I have bought a piece of land and I need to go out and look at it; please consider me excused.
o   Revelation 3:20
§  Behold, I stand at the door and knock; if anyone hears My voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and will dine with him, and he with Me.
o   Revelation 7:16-17
§  They will hunger no longer, nor thirst anymore; nor will the sun beat down on them, nor any heat; for the Lamb in the center of the throne will be their shepherd, and will guide them to springs of the water of life; and God will wipe every tear from their eyes.
o   Revelation 19:7-9
§  Let us rejoice and be glad and give the glory to Him, for the marriage of the Lamb has come and His bride has made herself ready." It was given to her to clothe herself in fine linen, bright and clean; for the fine linen is the righteous acts of the saints. Then he said to me, "Write, 'Blessed are those who are invited to the marriage supper of the Lamb '" And he said to me, "These are true words of God."

Jordaens: The Golden Apple of Discord
§ Courtesy and the gods
As a philosophical idea, courtesy goes well beyond the common notion of everyday politeness and table-manner civility, which, it might be argued, is simply a variation on an old theme made familiar to the West by the Renaissance humanist Baldassarre Castiglione in his Il Cortegiano (1528). However, there is also a more textured mytho-religious overlay to the notion of courtesy, which was foundational to the Greek vision of the world: the idea that even, and perhaps especially, the gods ‘should’ act with at least some degree of courtesy and decorum in their interactions with men. What a concept—that gods themselves should act justly or fairmindedly.
In a classic moment of this more intensely significant and essential form of courtesy, for instance, Zeus, the King of Gods and Men, thinks that Apollo has failed rather miserably in terms of courtesy toward Croesus, the king of Lydia. The story has been lyricized for us by the 5th century B.C. poet Bacchylides, and has elsewhere been a subject of reflection for Phrontisterion.
…the historical Croesus of Lydia was both a princely contributor to the temple of Apollo in Delphi, and he was also clearly rewarded by the Gods in exchange for his generous support of the temple. In other words, we learn in this story that the old-world pagan Gods, Zeus and Apollo to be precise, actually reach out to and reward really and truly the pious conduct of Croesus, who has been an active supporter of the Apollonian temple. There is the premise of a fundamental duty-based reciprocity from Gods to men.
            In the story, Bacchylides tells us of Croesus and of the fall of his empire, Lydia. We learn that Zeus had destined Sardis (a city located in Lydia) to be captured by the Persian army, and that instead of waiting patiently for himself and his family to be captured and lead into slavery by the Persians, King Croesus had a great pyre built up in front of his palace; and climbing up upon the pyre with his ‘inconsolably weeping’ wife and daughters, Croesus orders a slave to kindle the wooden structure. But even as the slave is setting spark to kindle, Croesus has not yet finished with the God; for he lifts his hands and his voice to the ‘steep’ heavens and bitterly ‘screams’ at the God, specifically Apollo, about His personal failure to uphold justice in the relationship between Himself and this pious king, i.e., the ‘I got your back and you got my back’ sort of justice…. Of course, the narrow bond of obligation between Apollo and Croesus also bespeaks the broader duty-bound relationship between Gods and men, not just from men to Gods, but more importantly in the light of this reflection, from Gods to men.
            So ode-ifies Bacchylides: “‘Outrageous deity, where is the thanks (recognition of duty or obligation) from the gods? Where is lord Apollo? [40] …What was hated is loved. To die is sweetest.’ So Croesus spoke, and he bid the slave with the delicate step to kindle the wooden structure. […] But when the flashing force of terrible fire began to shoot through the wood, [55] Zeus set a dark rain-cloud over it, and began to quench the golden flame. Nothing is unbelievable which is brought about by the gods' ambition.”
            Now what is exactly happening here in this story? Croesus holds that Apollo, the God, has a debt toward him, a man, because this man had not only recognized his debt toward the temple of the God, but he had always been faithful to pay that debt. Unfortunately, the story goes that Apollo was off busy somewhere else, perhaps neglecting other faithful supporters, so in a deus-ex-machina moment, Zeus steps in with his dark rain-cloud and saves the day. Then, says Bacchylides, after Zeus has squared the justice issue, Apollo finally decides to show up, “and brings the old man to live among the Hyperboreans, [60] along with his slender-ankled daughters, because of his piety, since of all mortals he sent the greatest gifts to holy Pytho.”

Depictions of celestial courtesy, however, were not foundational only to the ancient Greek vision of the world; for while the idea that gods ‘should’ act with courtesy and decorum toward men may seem counterintuitive or anachronistic to the moral framing of deity presupposed in a monolatric or “monotheistic” scheme, such as is present in Christianity, nevertheless, this presumption of courtesy is also found in the Hebrew Bible.
            In the ancient stories of the world there is clearly manifested an imbalance of power between gods/God and men. The classical understanding of theogony, for example, which is not only a story about the birth of gods, but also, and more importantly, about the conflicts and competitions and the transmission of power and government among the various generations of gods, is typified by elements of a power dynamic (agon) between the ancient deities. Such a story from the Hebrew Bible is found in a song from Asaph, Psalm 82, which has its origins in a Canaanite (Ugaritic) hymn:
God (elohim) has taken his place in the divine council (adat El);
    in the midst of the gods (elohim)he holds judgment:
“How long will you judge unjustly
    and show partiality to the wicked? Selah
Give justice to the weak and the orphan;
    maintain the right of the lowly and the destitute.
Rescue the weak and the needy;
    deliver them from the hand of the wicked.”
They have neither knowledge nor understanding,
    they walk around in darkness;
    all the foundations of the earth are shaken.
I say, “You are gods (elohim),
    children of the Most High (Elyon), all of you;
nevertheless, you shall die like mortals,
    and fall like any prince.”
Rise up, O God (elohim), judge the earth;
    for all the nations belong to you!

The Psalm opens with a council convened by El—an El council. In its Canaanite or Ugaritic form, and even in its Hebrew form, El is the high god of the assembly of ‘other’ gods. The picture is clear -- during a council of El (cf. Job 1) one specifically empowered elohim is passing judgement on the other Elohim at the assembly.
·      In Vs. 3-5 this specifically empowered elohim grumps at the other elohim because they do not know what the 'god' job description is, which is to help earthbound men because they live in ignorance and darkness. Already, this vision has nothing in common with a monotheistic theology, but that is a problem for another paper.
·      In vs. 6, the specifically empowered elohim tells the other elohim, that while they are in fact gods (elohim), and all children of Elyon (which harks back to the Elyon/Most High of Deut. 32:8-9), because of their conduct toward men, they will all die like men.

Like the Greek stories of their gods, this text is wonderfully henotheistic, which is to say that the gods do not cohabitate in unstructured polytheism; rather, there is a distinct power-structure, which includes a ruling god. When read in conjunction with Deut. 32:8-9, the narrative is that the ruling god, Elyon, empowers one specific elohim to reprimand the other Elohim—because of their lack of courtesy toward men. This is a biblical narrative diversely layered with dynamic aggression among the elohim: men are subject to the elohim; the elohim are subject to the specifically empowered elohim; the specifically empowered elohim is subject, by direct textual implication, to Elyon or the Most-High. The LXX bears out this interpretation, because where one finds that the Hebrew elohim is always the same plural in the text, it is diversely translated in Greek either as singular or as plural, where appropriate.
To Christianize at least to some extent Psalm 82, is certainly possible without changing the henotheistic structure. Yahweh is one of the elohim, and, the general tenor of these OT texts allows one to argue that Yahweh is the ‘specifically empowered’ elohim of this Psalm, which is consistent with the narrative of Deut. 32:8-9.
The issue at hand in this Psalm is courtesy; and it is being decided at the very council of El (Elyon) that the other elohim, because they have forgotten what it means to be gods vis-à-vis their mortal charges, are going to be radically dispatched (perhaps by the ‘specifically empowered’ elohim/Yahweh?). It is clear that a divine junta is in the offing, which means that courtesy among the gods is certainly a thing they think is worth fighting over. What a concept—that gods should have to compel one another to act justly or fairmindedly toward men.

§ Some lessons learned from this little study of courtesy and the gods:
So, other than what Epictetus wishes us to learn about manners, which would make us welcome guests in the company of all sorts, of gods and men alike, what might be other take-away lessons from all this talk about prandialism among gods and men? Well, Michael Winterbottom (1989, 34) reminds us of one certainly excellent moral lesson that we should learn from Polyphemus in Homer’s Odyssey—which is that men take it poorly when they discover that they are on the menu at moments of celestial peckishness.
'Respect the gods, good sir. We are suppliants, and Zeus Xeinios, whose power attends on guests, is patron of suppliants and guests' (9.266-71). The Cyclops answers that he and his kind care nothing for Zeus (275); and the only present he gives is to reserve Odysseus to be eaten last (370).4 Odysseus blinds the monster, and in his speech of triumph drives home the moral: 'You did not forbear to eat guests: wherefore Zeus and the other gods punished you' (478-9).

Susan Sheratt (304) reminds us of another lesson from theoxeny in antiquity, which is the question of moral indebtedness: “…that joining in the feast also brings obligations, both for mortals (Il. 4.343-346, 18.546) and for deities” (Il. 4.45-46).

Further reading: Phrontisterion’s translation of Epictetus’ Handbook
·      Epictetus’ Enchiridion Expanded_Section§1.14.1.1_If Wishes Were Horses…. Or, How to Avoid Being a Slave.
·      Epictetus’ Enchiridion Expanded_Section §1.13.1.1_ More on Making Intellectual Progress; October 2018
·      Epictetus’ Enchiridion Expanded_Section §1.12.1.1_Wrong Thinking About (Perhaps) Right Action; September 2018
·      Epictetus’ Enchiridion Expanded_Section §1.11.1.1_On the Ownership of Things; August 2018
·      Epictetus’ Enchiridion Expanded_§1.8.1.1, 1.9.1.1 and 1.10.1.1_Bits & Bobs of Fine Advice: Being presumptuous; December 1, 2017
Further reading on Bacchylides:
·      Aiken, David. “On the Death of God. A Post-mortem Reflection on a “Life.” In the Zeitschrift für Religions- und Geistesgeschichte (Brill) (upcoming 2019).

References and related reading:
·      Winterbottom, Michael. “Speaking of the Gods.” In Greece & Rome, Vol. 36, No. 1 (Apr., 1989), 33-41.
·      Reviewed Work(s): The Rise of the Greek Aristocratic Banquet by Wecowski. Review by: Helene P. Foley. Source: Classical Philology, Vol. 110, No. 3 (July 2015), pp. 269-273.
·      Sherratt, Susan. “Feasting in Homeric Epic.” In The Journal of the American School of Classical Studies at Athens, Vol. 73, No. 2, Special Issue: The Mycenean Feast (Apr.-Jun., 2004), pp. 301-337.
·      Lynch, Kathleen M. “More thoughts on the space of the symposium.” In British School at Athens Studies, Vol. 15, BUILDING COMMUNITIES: House, Settlement and Society in the Aegean and Beyond (2007), pp. 243-249.
·      Erickson, Brice L. “Feasts and Private Symposia in the Archaic and Classical Periods.” In Hesperia Supplements, Vol. 44, STEGA: The Archaeology of Houses and Households in Ancient Crete (2011), pp. 381-391.
·      Martin, Sandra Romano. “Banqueting Gods in Valerius Flaccus Arg. 5.690-5.” In Mnemosyne, Fourth Series, Vol. 66, Fasc. 4/5 (2013), pp. 666-681.
·      Veyne, Paul. “Inviter les dieux, sacrifier, banqueter : Quelques nuances de la religiosité gréco-romaine.” In Annales. Histoire, Sciences Sociales, 55e Année, No. 1 (Jan-Feb., 2000), pp. 3-42.

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