Introduction
The stories Rome told served not as “empty rhetoric, poetic hyperbole, or pragmatic flattery” but as part of the “ideological glue that held the empire dynamically together.”Footnote 1 Rome used its particular legends to propagate its superiority over the nations and to profess its God-given office to rule the world.Footnote 2 This imperialism provided the early church “fertile ground for reflection” regarding “how elements of the theological and christological vision … intersect, engage, and even imitate Roman imperial claims.”Footnote 3 New Testament authors borrowed from this amalgam of vocabulary, metaphors, and myths that the empire employed. According to Karl Galinsky, they did so, not least because their audiences understood these things, but also because it enabled them 1) to mimic and repurpose those imperial furnishings and 2) to oppose and construct alternatives to them.Footnote 4 In other words, this process helped early believers define and articulate their own politeuma and ideals.Footnote 5 According to scholars, Col 2:15 is a prime example of this practice.
ἀπεκδυσάμενος τὰς ἀρχὰς καὶ τὰς ἐξουσίας
ἐδειγμάτισεν ἐν παρρησίᾳ, θριαμβεύσας αὐτοὺς ἐν αὐτῷ.
By the cross,Footnote 6 God made a public spectacle of the powers and authorities, stripping them off and leading them in a triumphal parade. (My translation)
The irony of this verse is striking. God took from the hands of the powers the imperial instrument of death and disgrace and turned it into the instrument of their disablement and defeat.Footnote 7 Considering Christ’s crucifixion a universal triumph is a colossal reversal,Footnote 8 where Jesus’s death at the hands of the Romans is placed “in its strongest light—triumph in helplessness and glory in shame.”Footnote 9 As J. B. Lightfoot put it, here “the convict’s gibbet is the victor’s car.”Footnote 10
Most scholars focus on the debate surrounding Col 2:15 regarding the translation of άπεκδυσάμενος as “stripping off” or “disarming,” and that of θριαμβεύσας with respect to the imagery of the victory parade.Footnote 11 At the same time that they attend to terminological allusions to the pomp of the Roman Empire, there is a visual model lurking in the background that parallels the triumphal death of Christ: namely, the storied crucifixion of Marcus Atilius Regulus.Footnote 12 As I will recount in more detail below, Regulus was a decorated military general,Footnote 13 who achieved a near-mythic status during the First Punic War by his sacrificial death, in which his perseverance (patientia) on the gibbet was seen as even greater than riding in the victor’s car (currus).Footnote 14 Consequently, Regulus was credited for having set the precedent for gladly (libenter) bearing the “exquisitely cruel torments of the cross,”Footnote 15 and as having overcome through his death not only his human foes but also the cosmic power Lady Fortune.Footnote 16 As Ettore Pais concludes, Regulus became Rome’s “genuine representative” (schietto rappresentante) of those willing to sacrifice their life for the name and greatness of their people (pronta a sacrificare la vita per il nome e la grandezza della propria gente).Footnote 17 Similarly, to borrow from Rosa María Marina Sáez, in much of Latin literature, Regulus was not just a paradigm (paradigma) of all the virtues Rome held most dear, he was the incarnation of them all.Footnote 18
As we will discuss further below, the widespread popularity of Regulus’s story—his military victories on land and sea, his two terms as an elected official, his legendary triumph over a monstrous snake, and his selfless act of handing himself over to a horrible death—is attested in its frequent occurrence in Greek, Latin, and early Christian authors (e.g., Diodorus, Polybius, Cicero, Horace, Seneca, Silius Italicus, Quintilian, Tertullian, Minucius Felix, Arnobius, and Augustine). His tale became one of the empire’s favorites, to the point of being admitted in the academic curriculum by the middle of the first century CE.Footnote 19 If people knew of Regulus as much as the evidence for his popularity suggests, it is likely some first-century believers viewed his legend as a lens and point of comparison with Christ’s death. In that case, they plausibly considered Jesus’s triumphal crucifixion as surpassing that of Rome’s most illustrious hero, who also was said to have conquered his enemies through the cross.
To explore this notion further, I will first survey recent imperial-critical readings for Col 2:15 in order to set up the argument that if these scholars’ conclusions regarding the political language surrounding the verse stand, it is plausible that an allusion to Regulus’s victorious crucifixion would play a part.Footnote 20 Next, I will recount the story of Regulus’s life and various versions of his death, along with its reported ramifications, so as to tease out similarities and differences with Col 2:15. Finally, I will conclude with comments concerning the significance of including the legend as additional background for the verse. I will infer that reading Regulus’s story in comparison with Col 2:15 supports an imperial-critical reading of the letter, wherein the cross of Christ simultaneously caricatures and transcends the ubiquitous Roman standard.
It is important to note that this article does not seek to supplant other readings of the verse but aims to expand those accounts, especially in the interest of showing how the early church took prevailing ideas—imperial or otherwise—and “adapted and redeployed them as a means of forging a unique religious and social identity.”Footnote 21
Imperial-Critical Readings of Col 2:15
There has been a recent uptick in scholars interested in the relationship of Colossians to the imperial context.Footnote 22 Brian Walsh and Sylvia Keesmaat are notable examples of those who underscore the politically charged notes in Colossians. In fact, they argue the letter should be read as an explosive tract that seeks to subvert Rome by proclaiming an alternative metanarrative of redemption and by presenting a competing gospel at variance with the empire’s.Footnote 23 Col 2:15 stands for them as a clear case in point, where Christ’s work in disarming the powers exercised his sovereignty over Rome: “This rule was established on the cross and confirmed in the resurrection. Rome could not keep Jesus in a grave sealed by the empire.”Footnote 24
According to Harry O. Maier, “a first-century Christian audience hearing the letter read aloud would immediately have recognized imperial-sounding themes, greeted as it was daily by ubiquitous imperial images.”Footnote 25 Of these, Maier considers the portrayal of a Roman triumph in 2:15 a “most recognizable parallel with imperial ideals.”Footnote 26 He reasons that with respect to this political symbol, Colossians declares a destabilizing truth: it is from the beams of Christ’s cross, in the body of his death, “that a new imperium issues forth”—wherein enemies are pacified not through the execution of subjects but by the crucifixion of the divine king.Footnote 27 Maier infers that in light of the appropriation of imperial imagery with the celebration of Christ’s cross, Col 2:15 stands as a crux of the letter—pointing backwards to the author’s earlier use of Roman political ideology (especially in 1:15–23) and preparing the way for more of it in the following chapters (especially in 3:11–4:1). He argues that, as with 2:15, these passages challenge the depictions of the empire and its triumphus, which Rome lifted up to declare its entitlement to rule the world.Footnote 28
In a similar vein, N. T. Wright argues that τὰς ἀρχὰς καὶ τὰς ἐξουσίας in 2:15 includes Roman powers who had overreached themselves by crucifying the Lord of glory because they were angered by Christ’s challenge to their sovereignty.Footnote 29 Nevertheless, by stripping Jesus naked, holding him up to public contempt, and celebrating a triumph over him, God paradoxically stripped them naked, held them up to public contempt, and led them in his own triumphal procession.Footnote 30 As a result, Wright concludes, the cross becomes “the source of hope for all who had been held captive under their rule, enslaved in fear and mutual suspicion.”Footnote 31 Now that Christ has broken the hold of these powers, the behavior of their world, “its distinctions of race and class and sex, its blind obedience to the ‘forces’ of politics, economics, prejudice and superstition—have become quite simply out of date, a ragged and defeated rabble.”Footnote 32
Although Scot McKnight concludes that some scholars have pressed the antiimperial theme “so hard at times to hurt the cause,” he still discusses the apparent intersection between the letter’s claims and those of Rome.Footnote 33 The critical issue, he states, is how concerned the author of Colossians is with the tension between Rome and the kingdom of God. For example, while McKnight does not see the reference to “the power of darkness” in Col 1:13 as pointing directly to the empire, he considers Rome as playing a part in this domain. In other words, the author conceives the powers of darkness as composed of “deep, cosmic, demonic personal realities” that enslave structures and bind society in an infernal attempt to thwart God’s plan.Footnote 34 Therefore, McKnight infers, the authorities whom Christ disarms in 2:15 refer to supernatural beings at work in the empire’s earthly structures.Footnote 35
Most recently, Arthur Wright Jr. likewise argues that even if Colossians does not provide “a full-throated, ‘gloves off’ assault on the Roman Empire … it necessarily intersects with and engages Roman imperial claims.”Footnote 36 According to him, 2:15 comes into even sharper tension with the sociopolitical framework of the empire when one takes into account that the author has just mentioned how Christ is the head of every ruler and authority (v. 10) in whom the fullness of deity dwells (v. 9). Roman ideology “categorically placed the emperor at the pinnacle of powef” and “presented crucified persons as crushed and annihilated by the empire—not superior to it.” Footnote 37 He concludes that in 2:15 the author “flips the script of imperial triumph to demonstrate the power and superiority of God.” In contradistinction to Rome’s government, Christ’s reign is envisaged not “in dominating violence or overwhelming military force, but rather in weakness, sacrifice, and self-giving love.”Footnote 38 Although the defeat of these rulers was accomplished on the cross, the author’s parting words—“remember my chains” (4:18)—remind the audience that Rome’s oppressive structures paradoxically remain.Footnote 39
This article seeks to follow in the line of these scholars and to reinforce their conclusions by suggesting that if there are political dimensions related to Jesus’s execution depicted in Col 2:15 (as they argue), then it is likely that an allusion to Regulus’s crucifixion would accompany them. In the following section, then, I will survey Regulus’s life and various accounts of his death by Greek and Roman authors before and during the first century CE, in addition to those in early Christian texts. With that historicization in place, I will then set up a comparison between Regulus’s execution and Jesus’s crucifixion as construed in Colossians.
Regulus’s Life and Various Accounts of His Death
Before discussing the various versions of Regulus’s death for comparison with Jesus’s in Col 2:15, a brief sketch of his life is important. In ancient Rome, Regulus had obtained considerable fame for his military campaigns and had even celebrated a triumphal procession.Footnote 40 Later in his career, he won a famous naval victory, which enabled his army to invade Africa.Footnote 41 In this campaign, Regulus gained the empire vast quantities of spoils and—to prepare for a second victory parade—sent the booty back to Rome along with officers and troops he had captured.Footnote 42 Meanwhile, outside the walls of Carthage there arose a fabled serpent that killed a number of Regulus’s troops.Footnote 43 Regulus slew the fantastic beast, flayed it, and sent its wondrous skin to Rome.Footnote 44
This was the limit to Regulus’s good fortune, however.Footnote 45 On the brink of defeat, the Carthaginians tried to make a peace treaty with Regulus,Footnote 46 but he responded with terms so unreasonable that the “peace framed by him was no better than slavery.”Footnote 47 Rather than take such a deal, the Carthaginians decided instead to enlist the help of Xanthippus, a seasoned Spartan commander.Footnote 48 Around May 255 BCE, Xanthippus led an army of mercenaries whose cavalry outnumbered the Roman troops eight to one.Footnote 49 In addition to this, the Spartan lined up one hundred war elephants against Regulus’s soldiers.Footnote 50 (Unfortunately for the Romans, countering a stampede of fighting elephants was not in their military school’s curriculum.)Footnote 51 The ensuing battle came to be known as one of the most comprehensive and disgraceful defeats in the nation’s history—“a day that Rome shall ever mark in black.”Footnote 52 In it, almost all of Regulus’s troops were wiped out,Footnote 53 with the greater number of them “trampled to death by the vast weight of the elephants,” and the remainder shot down by the cavalry as they stood in their ranks.Footnote 54 Along with five hundred other troops, Regulus was captured and carried away. Then, in retribution, the Carthaginians marched against the African towns who had shown friendship to Regulus, and the Carthaginians crucified the town leaders because of their association with him.Footnote 55 As we will see in the next two sections, this is essentially the end of Regulus’s story for the Greek historians, but emphatically not for the Roman ones.
Greek Accounts of the Shameful Death of Regulus
In stark contrast to the heroic status the Latin authors would later attribute to Regulus, the Greek historian Diodorus (60–30 BCE) considered Rome’s so-called champion a prideful, power-grabbing blowhard. Diodorus even goes out of his way to pause his narrative to underline the hubris of Regulus and denounce his errors so that others might avoid Regulus’s mistakes. In fact, according to Diodorus, no right person could ever fail to condemn Regulus for his arrogance and folly (την άφροσύνην και τήν ύπερηφανίαν; 23.15.1). For one thing, Diodorus explains, Regulus should have accepted the Carthaginians’ peace treaty. Then he would have spared Rome an extremely long and costly war. Then he would have left for himself an enduring legacy as a man of mercy and philanthropy (ήμερότητος και φιλανθρωπίας). Then he would not have been known as the general whose arrogance led to the eventual deaths of one hundred thousand Roman troops.
Diodorus scoffs at how, instead, Regulus—impressed with his own success— “robbed himself of the highest renown,” by dealing so arrogantly with the Carthaginians that the daimonion (το δαιμόνιον) was roused to righteous vindication (νεμεσησαι) against him.Footnote 56 As a result, in exchange for the great esteem Regulus had earned, he received exponentially more dishonor and disgrace, heaped upon him by the very hands of those who had previously sought reconciliation with him. He who showed not a trace of pity received none in return (23.15.7). Rather, in their vengeance the Carthaginians cut off Regulus’s eyelids and penned him in with a savage elephant that mortally mangled him. Diodorus concludes: “Thus, the great general, as though driven by an avenging fury, breathed his last and died a most wretched death” (23.16.1).
Although not as harsh as Diodorus, Polybius (208–125 BCE) also considers Regulus’s defeat a humiliating example. For Polybius, the precept garnered from Regulus’s life is not about an honorable death but about what happens when a person foolishly trusts fickle Lady Fortune, especially when that person is enjoying success. Polybius concludes with this somber comment: “Regulus who had shortly refused to take pity or mercy on those in distress was now, almost immediately afterward, being led captive to implore pity and mercy in order to save his own life.”Footnote 57 Polybius ends here and does not mention how Regulus died.
As we will see below, these sober accounts stand in contrast to the Roman portrayals of Regulus’s death.
Roman Accounts of the Triumphal Death of Regulus
Before comparing Regulus’s execution with Jesus’s in Col 2:15, it is important to survey what Roman authors were saying about Regulus before the end of the first century CE. This section will focus on the accounts of Cicero (ca. 106–43 BCE); Horace (65–8 BCE); Seneca (ca. 4 BCE–65 CE); Silius Italicus (ca. 28–103 CE); and Quintilian (ca. 35–100 CE).Footnote 58 All of these writers poured out excessive praise for Regulus. Silius Italicus even referred to him as “the hope and pride of Hector’s race” (spes et fiducia gentis Hectoreae),Footnote 59 who set forth the pattern of joyfully persevering the torment of the cross.Footnote 60 Similarly, Quintilian considered him the preeminent professor of virtue—an instructor of courage and righteousness, simplicity and endurance, faithfulness and self-control.Footnote 61
According to Regulus’s passion narrative by Silius Italicus, Lady Fortune captured Regulus and dragged him through the Carthaginian streets in a triumphal procession. As she paraded him before a hostile crowd with both his hands bound fast behind his back, the Roman onlookers grieved in lament that a servant of god and his chosen city had to be doomed to die in Africa.Footnote 62 As a veritable Roman, though, Regulus’s spirit remained unbroken (infractus), and he met the Carthaginians’ glares with a calm and collected gaze.Footnote 63 Due to his sterling reputation, the Carthaginians rightly presumed the Romans would pay a handsome price to get their general back. They therefore sought to set up a cease-fire or, at least, a prisoner exchange.Footnote 64 By their calculations, Regulus’s single ransom was equal to all of their warriors imprisoned in Rome. Before sending the general home to make the deal, his captors made Regulus swear mighty oaths to the gods promising he would come back to Carthage if, for any reason, the Senate rejected the peace agreement or refused to release the prisoners.Footnote 65
What the Carthaginians did not know was that Regulus had also prayed to his god. He asked the “ruler of the universe, the source of justice and truth” to give him success in convincing the Romans to reject the Carthaginian offer—since Regulus would rather go to Hell (Stygios) than to see his nation strike “so base a deal.”Footnote 66 Around 250 BCE, Regulus returned home with that hope.Footnote 67 He addressed the senators and then made his startling move. Much to the dismay of the Carthaginians and the Romans alike, rather than taking the offer, Regulus demanded that the Senate deliver him back over to the Carthaginians and roundly refuse the request for reconciliation.Footnote 68 So, the Carthaginians moved to arrest him and take him back to Africa.Footnote 69
Having already resigned himself to his fate, Regulus would not change his mind.Footnote 70 And, true to his word, he remained unmoved by any plea to flee. According to Horace, even though Regulus knew full well what the barbarian torturer was preparing for him, he pushed aside any who attempted to delay his return.Footnote 71
’Tis said he put away his chaste wife’s kisses and his little children,
as one bereft of civil rights,
and sternly bent his manly gaze upon the ground.Footnote 72
Traditions vary as to what exactly Regulus’s horrible tortures entailed.Footnote 73 As mentioned above, some sources state that his captors cut his eyelids off and forced him to stare at the sun.Footnote 74 Others say Regulus was placed in an iron maiden–like contraption, “a specially constructed receptacle bristling with spikes.”Footnote 75 This is how Seneca describes it in De Providentia:
Nails pierce Regulus’ skin,
and wherever he rests his wearied body,
he lies upon a wound;
his eyes are stark in eternal sleeplessness.
But the greater his torture is, the greater his glory shall be.Footnote 76
Finally, some report that Regulus was hung on a cross, so as to experience the summum supplicium (extreme punishment) of all conceivable tortures and the ultimate avenue of shame.Footnote 77 In this light, Seneca included Regulus in his list of noble deaths. “Many men have overcome various trials”—Socrates conquered hemlock; Mucius, fire; and “Regulus, the cross” (crucem).Footnote 78 Moreover, in one account, a bystander details how he watched Regulus hanging high upon the tree in Carthage as the general looked upon Italy from his lofty cross (cruce sublimis).Footnote 79 Further, the Carthaginians celebrated their crucifixion of Regulus. For example, Hannibal’s shield had engravings of a triumphal parade proceeding past Regulus hanging “glorious in suffering.”Footnote 80
Nevertheless, rather than imprisonment and crucifixion humiliating Regulus, according to Cicero, the experience rendered Regulus’s actions even more worthy of admiration (omnibus admirabilior). Cicero went so far as to say that none of the general’s famous victories should be counted less honorable than his final disaster.Footnote 81 To be sure, Cicero reasoned, “Regulus had fought great wars (bella magna), had been a consul twice, and had [even] celebrated a triumph (triumpharat)”; yet his act of fidelity (fidem) in enduring torture and nobly facing a disgraceful death is greater and more glorious (praeclara) than any other achievement in his life.Footnote 82 Cicero also argued that it was “for the sake of honor” that with “full pleasure” (perpetienti voluptarius) Regulus chose to undergo such wretched (miserabilis) torment, having so much virtue that “when he was being slowly put to death … he enjoyed a happier lot than had he remained at home.”Footnote 83
According to Roman lore, the torture and death of Regulus did not produce the result the Carthaginians desired. Not only was Regulus reported to have gained esteem from his death, he also was said to have achieved victory through it.Footnote 84 In fact, it was claimed that Regulus did more damage to Carthage in fetters than when his hands were free.Footnote 85 The ramifications of Regulus’s noble death expanded beyond humanity. In a doxology dedicated to the general, it is written that his veneranda virtus (venerable virtue) transcends space and time.
His laurels will green throughout the ages,
as long as unstained Fides keeps her seat in heaven and on earth,
and as long as Virtue’s name is worshipped there.Footnote 86
Likewise, Cicero called upon Lady Virtue to testify to Regulus’s merit on behalf of humankind. “I do not even have to speak,” Cicero declared, “for Virtue herself will not hesitate to exalt Marcus Regulus for me.”Footnote 87
The report of Regulus’s defeat of his captors on a cross does not stop with his conquest of his human enemies, but it extends to his having endured the wounds and weapons (tela) of Lady Fortune (Tyche).Footnote 88 According to Seneca, Tyche did not defeat Regulus. Rather, she established him as a pattern of faithfulness and perseverance (“documentum fidei, documentum patientiae”); consequently, in enduring utmost shame, Regulus purchased enduring fame.Footnote 89 By the end of the first century CE, Regulus’s story and the resulting moral lessons from it were so codified that the very mention of his name would have triggered recall of these associations.Footnote 90
In sum, according to the Romans, Regulus set the precedent of nobly bearing the cross. He receives perennial praise as one who, by his death, overcame his foes— including the cosmic power, Lady Fortune. Thereby, in addition to the pattern he set for honorable suffering, Regulus provided the world a lasting model of selfless loyalty.Footnote 91 Outside of the New Testament, there is no example in the ancient world of a triumphal crucifixion as consonant with Col 2:15 as Rome’s celebrated death of Regulus. Having now surveyed the Greek accounts leading up to the first century CE and the Roman accounts during the first century CE, it will be beneficial to summarize how the first Christians drew upon the Regulus legend.
Early Christian Accounts of the Death of Regulus
In her work on Christian apologists, Carole Straw demonstrates how “ ‘one-upmanship’ arguments were the core of a rhetorical strategy by which early Christians hoped to crush their pagan opponents”; thus, for example, the believers in Jesus would belabor the point that even though non-Christian champions “had valiantly despised death and all sorts of savage treatment,” their heroes were still “far outshone by the Christian martyrs.”Footnote 92 According to Straw, the Christian writers used the language of heroic death even as they modified the meaning thereof and rejected the worldly attitude behind it. Thereby, as the Christian arguments revealed “an identity with their adversaries’ cultural values, as well as a transcending of them,” they defeated the unbelievers “on their own terms.”Footnote 93
In this vein, Christians from at least as early as the second century referenced the Roman account of Regulus’s execution.Footnote 94 They did so from as early as Tertullian (ca. 150–250 CE), Minucius Felix (ca. 150–250 CE),Footnote 95 Arnobius (ca. 250–330 CE), and Augustine (ca. 354–430 CE).Footnote 96 For example, according to Minucius Felix, over against Regulus—Rome’s esteemed crucified hero—the church’s “children and tender women not only voluntarily submit to and endure the inhuman torture of the cross, but by the grace of God they also laugh and scorn the beams (not even to mention the wild beasts and other paraphernalia of punishment!).”Footnote 97 Arnobius provides another example. He uses Regulus to respond to his opponents, who claimed Christ was debased by his death on the cross. Arnobius reasons: if Regulus’s death by a similar torture did not sully his reputation, “why then Christ’s?”Footnote 98 As with the Romans, Tertullian praises Regulus as one who would not allow his own life to be counted for the lives of many (unus pro multis). Rather, “for the price of many,” Regulus willingly endured crucifixion—so that even “in captivity, he conquered” (in captivitate victorem!)Footnote 99 Moreover, Tertullian states that the champion experienced not one but a great number of crucifixions (tot cruces), having been “pierced on every side with nails from without.”Footnote 100 According to Tertullian, Regulus’s exit was glorious, and there was “no reckless presumption, no desperate delusion” in his contempt of death. Why is it, then—Tertullian reasons—that the Romans can honor one who is willing to suffer for his empire but despise a Christian willing to suffer the same for her God? Tertullian points out their inconsistency in discounting Christians. Since the Romans themselves seek to give the likes of Regulus immortality by casting a sculpture, painting a picture, or carving an inscription, Tertullian concludes:
So far as you can manage it with monuments, you yourselves give dead men a sort of resurrection.
But the man who hopes for a real resurrection from God, if he suffers for God—you consider him a mere fool!Footnote 101
In short, “Romans have their statues, Christians their resurrection.”Footnote 102
Just as Regulus’s death had ironic ramifications, so did that of Christian martyrs. Tertullian therefore needles the magistrates to go ahead and please their constituents by sacrificing the Christians. “Torture us, rack us, condemn us, crush us!” And do so with cruelties “each more exquisite than the last.”Footnote 103 Such torture, he concludes, is “the bait that wins more men for our school. We multiply whenever we are mown down by you; the blood of Christians is seed.”Footnote 104
Similar to the Latin authors, Augustine surmised that among all the empire’s heroes worthy of honor and renowned for virtue, none was greater than Regulus— Rome’s “most noble example” (nobilissimum exemplum).Footnote 105 According to Augustine, when Regulus marched “without a doubt” (sine ulla dubitatione) back to Carthage, he did so with an “unconquerable spirit” (invictum animum), “fearlessly” (intrepidus) to face his “terrible end” (exitia revertit). Augustine concludes that Regulus remained as one whom Fortune neither “corrupted” (corruperit) nor “crushed” (fregerit).Footnote 106 He also uses Regulus’s story in an apologetic argument—not to denounce Regulus but Regulus’s gods. According to Augustine, Regulus’s defeat teaches that the Roman gods fail their worshipers. The very gods to whom Regulus swore allowed him—a devout acolyte and virtuous man—to be both conquered and led captive, tortured and put to death “by a most horrible kind of punishment.”Footnote 107
In short, early Christian writers follow the legend of Regulus that was broadcast throughout the empire in the first century and beyond. These authors tend to fall in step with the Roman accounts that praise him as a champion for his faithful endurance and victorious death. They also take the legend as an opportunity 1) to defend the glory of Christ’s crucifixion, 2) to relegate Regulus’s death to a status not nearly as noble when compared to the execution of Christians, and 3) to defame the Roman gods. I will return to these references in the next section and in the conclusion.
Now that the background has been set, we are in a good position to compare Regulus’s execution to that of Jesus’s in Colossians.
Comparison
According to the author of Colossians, God was pleased through the blood of Jesus to reconcile all things in heaven and earth to himself (Col 1:19–20).Footnote 108 As a result of Christ’s crucifixion, the church has redemption, the forgiveness of sins, and citizenship in the heavenly kingdom (Col 1:13–14).Footnote 109 On the beams, Jesus overcame the powers and authorities and made a public spectacle of them (Col 2:15). Although numerous other allusions are submerged beneath the notion of Christ having triumphed through the cross (garnering glory in shame and conquering in captivity),Footnote 110 Regulus’s crucifixion should be considered alongside them.Footnote 111 For while the idea of defeating human and/or celestial powers is not uncommon in the ancient world,Footnote 112 it is quite anomalous (outside of the New Testament) to find that victory occurring through crucifixion unless one is referring to Regulus.Footnote 113 Jesus and Regulus are the only two people before the end of the first century whose mortal gibbet is the victor’s car, in which they ride in triumph over cosmic powers.Footnote 114
Considering Regulus’s model beside Col 2:15 provides additional roots for understanding the depiction of the crucified Christ in the letter. In other words, by putting the two figures in juxtaposition, the language of Colossians gains fresh relief, as the reflecting resemblances highlight the differences between the two. For instance, although the cross was the instrument of shame, neither Jesus’s nor Regulus’s death was considered as having besmeared their respective reputations. Just the opposite!Footnote 115 This, though, is where a resemblance “smuggles in” a disconnection,Footnote 116 for whereas Regulus did not lose his individual dignity on the cross, the implications of Jesus’s death go further in Colossians. By Christ’s cross, God also conferred dignity to the world.Footnote 117 That is to say, the spot where Rome sought to bestow utmost shame on Jesus became the source of lasting honor for Greeks and Jews, the circumcised and uncircumcised, barbarians and Scythians, slaves and free (Col 3:11).Footnote 118
Several more examples demonstrate how the similarities of Regulus’s triumphal death create a foil for the figure of the cross in Colossians. For instance, Regulus was pleased to endure crucifixion because he refused peace and turned down reconciliation with the Carthaginians. Conversely, in Colossians, God was pleased by Jesus’s crucifixion to bring peace to the world and to reconcile all things to himself (Col 1:20). Regulus initially rejected the opportunity for reconciliation with his Carthaginian enemies. He even asked God (the ruler of the universe and genuine source of justice and truthFootnote 119) to help him convince the Senate to reject the second Carthaginian attempt at a cease-fire. In stark contradistinction, God (the Father of Jesus Christ, who is firstborn over all creation) gave reconciliation and peace to those who were alienated from him and hostile to him (Col 1:15–21). Because of Christ, God forgave sinners and lawbreakers their transgressions, and he canceled the χειρόγραφον (certificate of debt) that opposed them (2:13–14). Also, Regulus went so far as to sacrifice his body to prevent his life from serving as a ransom for the empire’s enemies. He would rather face Hell, he said, than for his nation to have peace with Carthage. Yet Jesus died and faced the grave to redeem God’s enemies, so that his Father could transfer them from the dominion of darkness into the kingdom of his son (Col 1:13–14). His sacrifice called his enemies to be reconciled and to live in one accord as one unified body, wherein his word would richly dwell and his peace would finally rule (Col 3:15–16).
Not only is there a difference with respect to the ramifications of Jesus’s and Regulus’s actions on their respective enemies, but there is also a strong contrast between the ramifications on the peoples associated with the two heroes. As mentioned above, after Regulus’s actions failed, the Carthaginians who had surrendered to him and made a pact with him were ostracized and crucified as a result. In comparison, the Colossians who had received Christ Jesus as Lord were buried with him (in baptism) and raised with him through faith in the power of God (Col 2:6–12). Whereas Regulus’s African friends shared in his tragic fate, those aligned with Christ—in addition to his burial and his peace—share in his inheritance and the hope of his glory (Col 1:12, 27; 3:4). Despite the victory enacted in Jesus’s death, his followers still faced persecution. Just as Christ’s death did not have the effect his enemies desired, according to Tertullian, the execution of the Lord’s followers likewise had unintended consequences: their blood is seed and the bait that wins even more people to their faith (Apol. 50.13).
Furthermore, (G)od allowed Regulus and Jesus to endure torture and death. In their deaths, they both were reported to have conquered their conquerors. Consequently, Regulus’s death was praised by his countrymen and exalted by Lady Virtue “as long as unstained Fides” kept her seat in heaven. In comparison, the gospel about Jesus Christ was proclaimed in all the earth (Col 1:6). Both figures therefore came to serve as universal paragons of righteousness, endurance, faithfulness, and self-control. But even beyond the everlasting memory of Regulus’s glory and over and above Lady Virtue’s extolling of his name in heaven, all the fullness of deity dwells in Jesus (Col 2:9), whom God raised from the dead and seated at his right hand (Col 3:1).Footnote 120 To borrow from Tertullian, Regulus may have his statue, but Christ has his resurrection.Footnote 121
Finally, both stories are marked with irony. Regulus was one battle away from celebrating a second triumphal procession for Rome, an extraordinary achievement indeed.Footnote 122 Instead, the tables were turned, and he, the servant of god and his chosen city,Footnote 123 was separated from his spoils, attacked by το δαιμόνιον,Footnote 124 and marched by Lady Fortune in a spectacular victory parade. In contrast, according to Col 2:15, God flipped the script so that the previously condemned Messiah is now honored in the matchless, cosmic triumphal procession, having despoiled those who had crucified him.
With these initial comparisons made, we are now in a better position to make conclusions concerning the overall significance of including Regulus’s legend in the background of Col 2:15.
Conclusion
With respect to understanding imperial and civic elements in the background of texts, Gregory Snyder accuses New Testament scholars of having too narrow a focus and too instrumental an approach.Footnote 125 As a result, Snyder complains, these scholars often allow the foreground to determine what elements are given weight and attention. This “not only imports distortions and exaggerations but also leaves important things out of the account.”Footnote 126 Perhaps this is also the case for Col 2:15, since the imagery of Regulus’s tale served as one of the countless, yet conspicuous, facets of the empire’s framework and politeuma, which was designed to remind inhabitants how much more superior the Romans were to those from other nations (including barbarians, Scythians, Greeks, and Jews; cf. Col 3:11).Footnote 127
If Col 2:15 already employs Roman political language in comparison to Christ, as scholars such as Walsh and Keesmaat, Maier, Wright, McKnight, and Wright Jr. argue, then it is plausible that an allusion to Regulus’s victorious crucifixion would accompany it. In light of the expansive popularity of Regulus’s story and the parallel of conquering powers on a cross, rather than “Could the Colossian audience have picked up on an allusion?” the question seems to be “How could they have not?” As to whether it supports an anti-imperialFootnote 128 or a “supra-imperial” reading of Colossians,Footnote 129 the latter may be an unintentional version of the former—since Caesar would certainly consider insulting, if not treasonous, any implication (inadvertent or otherwise) that he was lesser than or insignificant to a Jewish carpenter-king. Nevertheless, in that Colossians does not give a direct “full-throated, ‘gloves off’ ” assault on Rome (in comparison, for example, with the book of Revelation),Footnote 130 the supra-imperial reading is preferred. That is, in Colossians Christ is not depicted as directly against Rome but as wholly exceeding it. In other words, the delineation of Jesus’s triumph on the cross does not just stand alongside or in the face of Roman examples like Regulus, which were used to publicize the empire’s God-given role to subjugate the nations and to bring them under its control.Footnote 131 Rather, for the Colossian believers, Christ’s victory would surpass Regulus’s legend “in a far more perfect way.”Footnote 132 Through it, God conquers all the powers, pacifies all the nations, and restores dignity to the world.
Since it is difficult to say whether the author of Colossians intended to allude to Regulus’s notorious death or whether the early church would have made the connection even if the author did not, it will be helpful to borrow from Richard Hays’s criteria for testing the legitimacy of allusions in Paul’s writings.Footnote 133 First, this proposal for Col 2:15 fits Hays’s availability criterion, since the Regulus story was so pervasive in the first century. Furthermore, similar to Hays’s volume criterion, the idea of overcoming enemies and achieving glory through a cross is distinct enough to Regulus and Jesus for there to be an allusion here. As mentioned above, they are the only two figures in the first century CE reported to have conquered their enemies by the cross. With respect to thematic coherence and historical plausibility, this reading underlines a (direct or indirect) subversive imperial theme that scholars consider recurring in Colossians, and it fits with the early church’s tendency to draw on political stories and images for their own ends, as already exemplified by the use of the triumphal parade in Col 2:15.
With respect to the history of interpretation criterion, Christians from at least as early as the second century reflected on Regulus in their works. Like Arnobius’s reference, the proposed allusion places the executions of Regulus and Jesus side by side—neither execution was considered shameful. And, similar to Minucius Felix’s and Tertullian’s maneuvers, the allusion denigrates Regulus’s death in light of Christian crucifixion. While second-century apologists exalted Christ-following women and children over Regulus’s cross, this proposal suggests Colossians does so with Christ. What is more, Augustine used the story to denounce Roman gods in comparison to the Christian God. If early Christians saw their followers outstripping Regulus and his gods, it is not farfetched to imagine them seeing their God’s work through the Lord’s death transcending Regulus’s as well.
As to whether the proposed reading meets Hays’s satisfaction criterion (in that it provides an insightful reading), the Regulus allusion does further elucidate and enhance Col 2:15. In this case, Christ’s triumphal death echoes that of Regulus—but does not replicate it. It thereby minimizes the significance of the very image on which it draws.Footnote 134 That is to say, in light of the suggested allusion, the preeminence of Jesus’s victory in Col 2:15 would (intentionally or not) provide a subtle twist to Rome’s model causing it to slip. It presents a superior alternative to Regulus—thus transcending the imperial standard “even as it mimics it.”Footnote 135