When a lecturer in New Testament language and literature comments that of all Greek words “epieikes” is the most untranslatable, then we may be sure that there is behind this word a great wealth of meaning not normally re­vealed in our English ver­sions. The translators’ diffi­culty is shown by the num­ber of words chosen—and these include gentleness, forbearance, moderation, sympathy, clemency, kind, patient, considerate and reasonable. Young’s concordance adds “yieldingness” and “pliability” to this al­ready impressive list. But this is a case where actions speak louder than words, be­cause that perfect pattern which we are to follow has been made by Jesus. “The meekness and gentleness (epieikeia) of Christ” is the authority by which Paul en­treated the Corinthians (2 Cor. 10. 1), and from which we learn the more perfect way.

Of the many illustrations of the gentleness of Jesus, we may recall his treatment of the case involving the woman taken in the very act of adultery. According to the Pharisees’ cast-iron concept of the Law, there was but one answer. To them a rigid observance of the Law down to the last detail—and death of this woman — represented strength. But Jesus showed how brittle that edifice was by the challenge, “Let him who is without sin cast the first stone”. As the only sinless one with the perfect right to condemn, Jesus rather displayed “epieikeia”: the quality of knowing how to forgive, how to make al­lowances, how to temper justice with mercy; for he knew that this woman’s sal­vation was more pleasing to God than the blind obser­vance of Law.

The pliability of Jesus’ “epieikeia” was never bet­ter demonstrated than when he yielded to the great be­hest from high. The Jewish and Roman might arrayed against him did its worst and left a sealed and guarded tomb as evidence of its vic­tory. His gentleness de­ceived the “world”, for, just as a piece of spring steel will yield to pressure with­out being broken, so Jesus rose to life again, it not be­ing possible for him to be holden of death.

In this example of never being broken we find Paul saying, “Having this minis­try by the mercy of God, we do not lose heart. . . . We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair; persecuted, but not forsak­en, struck down, but not destroyed” (2 Cor. 4. 8-9). Did the apostle have this in mind when he wrote, “Let your moderation (epieikiea) be known unto all men”? (Phil. 4. 5). Moderation is the keeping of a middle position between extremes and, harking back to our illustration, we know that spring steel normally retains a middle position, yet may flex either way. However, when a spring is so moved by force it also exerts a cor­responding pressure to return to normal. The way of Christ is the way of modera­tion (epieikeia) and, as extremists without or within the body impose their power so Christ in the believer creates a constant pressure to restore the truth.

Such moderation pre­cludes “bitter jealousy and selfish ambition, which are the causes of disorder and every vile practice”, for, says James, “who is wise and understanding among you? By his good life let him show his works in the meekness of wisdom “. . . which . . .” from above is first pure, then peaceable, gentle (epieikes) . . . open to reason, full of mercy and good fruits, without uncertainty or insecurity” (James 3. 13-18 R.S.V.).

This quality of gentleness is to be one of the possessions of brethren in official capacities in the ecclesia, says Paul: “Now a bishop must be above re­proach, married only once, temperate, sensible, digni­fied, hospitable, an apt tea­cher, no drunkard, not vio­lent, but gentle . . .” (1 Tim. 3. 3). And not only the leaders, but also all the people of Christ who are zealous of good works, for they are reminded, “To speak evil of no one, to avoid quarrelling, to be gen­tle . . .”. This contrast be­tween the violent and the gentle shows that a believer should not instigate strife: and how great the benefit if there were no such strikers!

The orator Tertullus, in accusing Paul before the cruel Roman procurator Felix, is recorded as saying, “I pray thee that thou wouldest hear us of thy clemency a few words” (Acts 24. 4). Indeed, a good governor should have the ability to see both sides of the case, even though not necessarily agreeing with either; and his clement judgment would spring from a mildness of temper, hav­ing a disposition to spare and forgive. Such was not the case with Felix, who, in the hope of a bribe from Paul, feigned an interest in the Truth, but, to please the Jews, left the apostle bound.

From all this can we gain something of the meaning of this “almost untranslat­able” word? The Plain Eng­lish version puts it, “Let all the world know that you will meet a man half-way”. Maybe our religion, no, rather our practise of it, should bend a bit more than it does: should have the quality and strength of tempered steel, rather than the brittle make-or-break rigidity of cast-iron. Surely we should go half-way and more in our business of spreading the glorious gos­pel of salvation and of min­istering to the saints, for we ourselves full well know that God went not half-way, but all the way, when he freely gave His only son that we, His former enemies, might have life.

There may be no English word for “epieikeia” — let us, then, translate it by our Christ-like deeds.