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.