Book 1, Chapter 9

What Follows from Our Kinship with God

6 min

If the things are true which are said by the philosophers about the kinship between God and man, what else remains for men to do than what Socrates did? Never in reply to the question, to what country you belong, say that you are an Athenian or a Corinthian, but that you are a citizen of the world (кóσμος). For why do you say that you are an Athenian, and why do you not say that you belong to the small nook only into which your poor body was cast at birth? Is it not plain that you call yourself an Athenian or Corinthian from the place which has a greater authority and comprises not only that small nook itself and all your family, but even the whole country from which the stock of your progenitors is derived down to you? He then who has observed with intelligence the administration of the world, and has learned that the greatest and supreme and the most comprehensive community is that which is composed of men and God, and that from God have descended the seeds not only to my father and grandfather, but to all beings which are generated on the earth and are produced, and particularly to rational beings—for these only are by their nature formed to have communion with God, being by means of reason conjoined with him—why should not such a man call himself a citizen of the world, why not a son of God, and why should he be afraid of anything which happens among men? Is kinship with Caesar (the emperor) or with any other of the powerful in Rome sufficient to enable us to live in safety, and above contempt and without any fear at all? and to have God for your maker (ποιητήν), and father and guardian, shall not this release us from sorrows and fears?

If what the philosophers say about the kinship between God and man is true, what should we do but follow Socrates? When someone asks what country you belong to, never say you are an Athenian or a Corinthian. Say instead that you are a citizen of the world (кóσμος). Why do you say you are an Athenian? Why not say you belong only to the little corner where your poor body was born? Clearly, you call yourself an Athenian or Corinthian because that place has greater authority. It includes not only that little corner and your whole family, but also the entire country your ancestors came from. Now suppose a man has observed intelligently how the world is governed. He has learned that the greatest, highest, and most inclusive community is made up of men and God. He has learned that the seeds of life come from God. They come not only to my father and grandfather, but to all beings born and produced on earth. This is especially true of rational beings. By nature, they alone are made to share in communion with God, since reason joins them to him. Why should such a man not call himself a citizen of the world? Why not a son of God? And why should he fear anything that happens among men? Is being related to Caesar (the emperor) or anyone else powerful in Rome enough to let us live safely, beyond contempt, and entirely without fear? If so, will having God as your maker (ποιητήν), father, and guardian not free us from sorrow and fear?

Cicero, Tuscul. v. 37, says the same: "Socrates cum rogaretur, cujatem se esse diceret, Mundanum, inquit. Totius enim mundi se incolam et civem arbitrabatur." (Upton.)

He says that humans share in God through their possession of reason, not through external means or religious ceremonies. A modern expositor of Epictetus says, "Through reason our souls are as closely connected and mixed up with the deity as though they were part of him" (Epictet. i. 14, 6; ii. 8, 11, 17, 33). In the Epistle named from Peter (ii. 1, 4) it is written: "Whereby are given to us exceeding great and precious promises that by these (see v. 3) ye might be partakers of the divine nature (γένησθε θείας κοινωνοί φύσεως), having escaped the corruption that is in the world through lust." In Introduction, § 31, Mrs. Carter comments on this Stoic doctrine, but her remarks do not accurately explain the principles of Epictetus and Antoninus.

Jesus said, “Our Father which art in heaven.” Cleanthes writes in his hymn to Zeus, ἐκ σοῦ γὰρ γένος ἐσμέν. Compare Acts of the Apostles, xvii. 28, where Paul quotes these words. Some have claimed that the “conception of a parental deity” was unknown before Jesus taught it. They have also claimed it remained unknown to Greeks who were unfamiliar with his teaching after his time. Neither claim is true.

But a man may say, Whence shall I get bread to eat when I have nothing?

But a man may ask, Where will I get bread to eat when I have nothing?

And how do slaves, and runaways, on what do they rely when they leave their masters? Do they rely on their lands or slaves, or their vessels of silver? They rely on nothing but themselves; and food does not fail them. And shall it be necessary for one among us who is a philosopher to travel into foreign parts, and trust to and rely on others, and not to take care of himself, and shall he be inferior to irrational animals and more cowardly, each of which being self-sufficient, neither fails to get its proper food, nor to find a suitable way of living, and one conformable to nature?

And what do slaves and runaways rely on when they leave their masters? Do they rely on their land, their slaves, or their silver vessels? They rely on nothing but themselves, and they do not go hungry. Must a philosopher among us travel to foreign lands relying on others instead of taking care of himself? Must he be inferior to irrational animals and more cowardly than they are? Each of them is self-sufficient. None fails to find the food it needs or a suitable way of life in accordance with nature.

In our society today, thousands wake up not knowing how they will find something to eat. Some get food by fraud and theft, some receive it as a gift, and some take whatever work they can find. They earn a small amount through honest labor. You can see such people everywhere if you keep your eyes open. People who live by daily labor lead heroic lives that put the well-fed philosopher and the wealthy Christian to shame.

Epictetus has made a serious misstatement about irrational animals. Millions die each year from lack of food, and many human beings die the same way. We can hardly suppose that he did not know these facts. Compare the passage in Matthew (vi. 25–34). It says in v. 26: “Behold the fowls of the air: for they sow not, neither do they reap, nor gather into barns; yet your heavenly Father feedeth them. Are ye not much better than they?” Readers may consult the commentators on this passage.

I indeed think that the old man ought to be sitting here, not to contrive how you may have no mean thoughts nor mean and ignoble talk about yourselves, but to take care that there be not among us any young men of such a mind, that when they have recognised their kinship to God, and that we are fettered by these bonds, the body, I mean, and its possessions, and whatever else on account of them is necessary to us for the economy and commerce of life, they should intend to throw off these things as if they were burdens painful and intolerable, and to depart to their kinsmen. But this is the labour that your teacher and instructor ought to be employed upon, if he really were what he should be. You should come to him and say, "Epictetus, we can no longer endure being bound to this poor body, and feeding it and giving it drink, and rest, and cleaning it, and for the sake of the body complying with the wishes of these and of those. Are not these things indifferent and nothing to us; and is not death no evil? And are we not in a manner kinsmen of God, and did we not come from him? Allow us to depart to the place from which we came; allow us to be released at last from these bonds by which we are bound and weighed down. Here there are robbers and thieves and courts of justice, and those who are named tyrants, and think that they have some power over us by means of the body and its possessions. Permit us to show them that they have no power over any man." And I on my part would say, "Friends, wait for God: when He shall give the signal and release you from this service, then go to Him; but for the present endure to dwell in this place where He has put you: short indeed is this time of your dwelling here, and easy to bear for those who are so disposed: for what tyrant or what thief, or what courts of justice, are formidable to those who have thus considered as things of no value the body and the possessions of the body? Wait then, do not depart without a reason."

I think the old man should be sitting here for a different purpose. He should not be trying to prevent you from thinking or speaking of yourselves in a low and unworthy way. Instead, he should be looking out for young men among us who have recognized their kinship with God. Such men might recognize that we are bound by the body, its possessions, and everything else they require for daily life and our dealings with others. They might then intend to cast these things off as painful and unbearable burdens and depart to join their divine kin. That is the work your teacher and instructor should be doing, if he were truly what he ought to be. You should come to him and say, "Epictetus, we can no longer bear being bound to this poor body. We cannot bear feeding it, giving it drink and rest, and cleaning it. Nor can we bear complying with the wishes of one person or another for its sake. Are not these things indifferent and nothing to us? Is death not an evil? Are we not, in a way, God's kin, and did we not come from him? Let us depart to the place we came from. Let us finally be released from the bonds that bind and weigh us down. Here there are robbers, thieves, courts of justice, and those called tyrants. They think they have some power over us through the body and its possessions. Let us show them that they have no power over any man." And I would say, "Friends, wait for God. When he gives the signal and releases you from this service, then go to him. But for now, bear living in the place where he has put you. Your stay here is short, and those who are willing can bear it easily. What tyrant, thief, or court of justice can frighten those who regard the body and its possessions as worthless? So wait. Do not depart without a reason."

The old man is Epictetus.

As Wolf says, he means "on account of the necessities of the body seeking the favour of the more powerful by disagreeable compliances."

Upton refers to Cicero, Tuscul. i. 30, Cato Major, c. 20, and Somnium Scipionis, c. 3 (De Republica, iv. 15). These passages say that we must not leave life without God's command. See Marcus Antoninus, ii. 17, iii. 5, v. 33. But how can a man recognize the signal to depart that Epictetus speaks of?

Something like this ought to be said by the teacher to ingenuous youths. But now what happens? The teacher is a lifeless body, and you are lifeless bodies. When you have been well filled to-day, you sit down and lament about the morrow, how you shall get something to eat. Wretch, if you have it, you will have it; if you have it not, you will depart from life. The door is open. Why do you grieve? where does there remain any room for tears? and where is there occasion for flattery? why shall one man envy another? why should a man admire the rich or the powerful, even if they be both very strong and of violent temper? for what will they do to us? We shall not care for that which they can do; and what we do care for, that they cannot do. How did Socrates behave with respect to these matters? Why, in what other way than a man ought to do who was convinced that he was a kinsman of the gods? "If you say to me now," said Socrates to his judges, "we will acquit you on the condition that you no longer discourse in the way in which you have hitherto discoursed, nor trouble either our young or our old men, I shall answer, you make yourselves ridiculous by thinking that, if one of our commanders has appointed me to a certain post, it is my duty to keep and maintain it, and to resolve to die a thousand times rather than desert it; but if God has put us in any place and way of life, we ought to desert it." Socrates speaks like a man who is really a kinsman of the gods. But we think about ourselves, as if we were only stomachs, and intestines, and shameful parts; we fear, we desire; we flatter those who are able to help us in these matters, and we fear them also.

A teacher should say something like this to eager young people. But what happens now? The teacher is a lifeless body, and you are lifeless bodies too. After eating your fill today, you sit and worry about tomorrow. How will you find something to eat? You wretch, if you have food, you will have it. If you do not, you will leave this life. The door is open. Why do you grieve? What reason is left for tears? What reason is there to flatter anyone? Why should one person envy another? Why admire the rich or powerful, even if they are very strong and quick to violence? What can they do to us? We do not care about what they can do, and they cannot do what we do care about. How did Socrates act in these matters? He acted as a man should who was convinced that he was related to the gods. "If you say to me now," Socrates said to his judges, "we will acquit you on one condition. You must no longer speak as you have been speaking, or trouble our young or old men. I shall answer, you make yourselves ridiculous. You think I must hold a post assigned to me by one of our commanders. You think I should be ready to die a thousand times rather than abandon it. Yet if God has given us a place and a way of life, you think we should abandon it." Socrates speaks like a man who really is related to the gods. But we think of ourselves as if we were nothing but stomachs, intestines, and shameful parts. We fear and desire. We flatter those who can help us with these things, and we fear them too.

Upton refers to passages where Epictetus uses this expression: i. 24, 20; i. 25, 18; ii. 1, 19, and others. He also refers to Seneca, De Provid. c. 6, Ep. 91, and to Cicero, De Fin. iii. 18. Cicero concludes: "e quo apparet et sapientis esse aliquando officium excedere e vita, quum beatus sit; et stulti manere in vita quum sit miser." Compare Matthew vi. 31: "Therefore take no thought, saying, What shall we eat? or, What shall we drink? or, Wherewithal shall we be clothed? (For after all these things do the Gentiles seek :) for your heavenly Father knoweth that ye have need of all these things," &c.

This passage is based on and says essentially the same thing as the passage in Plato's Apology, c. 17.

A man asked me to write to Rome about him, a man who, as most people thought, had been unfortunate, for formerly he was a man of rank and rich, but had been stripped of all, and was living here. I wrote on his behalf in a submissive manner; but when he had read the letter, he gave it back to me and said, "I wished for your help, not your pity: no evil has happened to me."

A man asked me to write to Rome on his behalf. Most people thought he had been unfortunate. He had once been wealthy and held a high rank, but he had lost everything and was living here. I wrote a humble letter on his behalf. But after reading it, he gave it back to me and said, "I wanted your help, not your pity: nothing bad has happened to me."

Thus also Musonius Rufus, in order to try me, used to say: This and this will befall you from your master; and when I replied that these were things which happen in the ordinary course of human affairs. Why then, said he, should I ask him for anything when I can obtain it from you? For, in fact, what a man has from himself, it is superfluous and foolish to receive from another? Shall I then, who am able to receive from myself greatness of soul and a generous spirit, receive from you land and money or a magisterial office? I hope not: I will not be so ignorant about my own possessions. But when a man is cowardly and mean, what else must be done for him than to write letters as you would about a corpse. Please to grant us the body of a certain person and a sextarius of poor blood. For such a person is, in fact, a carcase and a sextarius (a certain quantity) of blood, and nothing more. But if he were anything more, he would know that one man is not miserable through the means of another.

Musonius Rufus used to test me in the same way. He would say, “Your master will do this or that to you.” I replied that such things happen in the ordinary course of human affairs. “Then why should I ask him for anything,” he said, “when I can get it from you?” In fact, if a man can get something from himself, it is unnecessary and foolish to receive it from someone else. If I can give myself greatness of soul and a generous spirit, should I accept land, money, or public office from you? I hope not. I will not be so ignorant of what I already possess. But when a man is cowardly and mean, what else can be done for him? We must write letters on his behalf, as we would for a corpse. “Please grant us the body of a certain person and a sextarius of poor blood.” For such a person is, in fact, a corpse and a sextarius, a certain quantity, of blood, and nothing more. But if he were anything more, he would know that one man cannot make another miserable.

Schweighaeuser has a long note on the phrase "to receive from another." I think the meaning is clear, and a careful reader will have no trouble understanding it. Epictetus was once a slave.

The meaning is unclear. Schweighaeuser thinks it refers to a defeated enemy asking the conqueror for permission to bury the dead. Epictetus regards a man who bases his happiness on external things and the favor of others as a mere corpse.