About 400 years before Christ lived, Socrates was trekking around Athens trying to teach people that virtue and knowledge were one and the same. He would convince others that they must be the same thing because no man knowingly did wrong. In other words, when a person lied or stole something, it was because that person believed that was the good thing to do.

The way Socrates explained it was that a person who stole, lied, or committed any other sin did so because they were convinced that action led to some good. That person believed he received a good thing by doing it, and since he received a good, the action itself must be good. A soldier who runs away from battle does so to preserve his life—a good thing—and therefore sees it as a good action, not knowing that courage is actually the greater good. For Socrates, the cure for sin was education—helping people know and understand the true good. Therefore, Socrates concluded that virtue is knowledge.

Socrates essentially saw people’s sin as Eve’s sin. Eve ate the forbidden fruit because she was deceived. In other words, she wrongly believed that eating the fruit was the good thing to do. She believed she would gain something good by doing so, thus making the action itself appear good. To Socrates, we all have Eve’s problem of ignorance.

But according to Scripture, we don’t just have a problem of ignorance. The Bible is clear that Adam was not deceived, but knowingly chose sin. He knew it was wrong and that it was not the good God had for him, yet he ate anyway. His knowledge was not the problem; his desire was.

You see, the problem of sin is not merely a knowledge problem, which means it cannot be corrected by education or learning alone, as Socrates thought. Socrates’ theory on anthropology (man) and hamartiology (sin) only addressed half the issue—the Eve side. His conclusion that virtue is knowledge reduces man to nothing more than a brain on a stick. If all we are is a brain on a stick, then all we must do is correct our thinking. Next time you hear a modern politician blaming poor education for a person’s bad actions, you will know they are operating within this framework that Socrates expounded. But we are more than a brain on a stick, and our sin problem is more than an intellectual issue. It is an issue of the heart.

What do we mean by saying sin is an issue of the heart? It is true that we are sometimes like Eve—we sin because of deception or lack of understanding. But our core issue is not merely corrupted thinking like Eve; it is corrupted desire like Adam. Adam knowingly and willingly sinned because of his desire, not his ignorance. That is a heart issue.

The New Testament does not accept Socrates’ claim that virtue is knowledge. To be fair, Socrates himself had doubts about this claim. Though he believed virtue could be taught, like other forms of knowledge, he admitted he had never identified a true teacher of virtue. The Sophists claimed to be such teachers, but he dismissed them—much like we would laugh if a group of lawyers claimed to be teachers of honesty. The New Testament writers, however, were more Aristotelian in this respect, distinguishing between virtue and knowledge. As Peter writes, “add to your virtue knowledge.”

Rather than teaching that every vice is merely ignorance and every virtue a form of knowledge, Christianity rejects the idea that people are simply “brains on sticks.” It recognizes that both our minds and hearts are corrupted. We must practice prudence—ordering our thoughts according to truth—and temperance—ordering our desires rightly. Both need correction. We have an Adam issue in our hearts (corrupted desires) and an Eve issue in our minds (corrupted thinking).

Here is where Socrates’ teaching proves helpful: How can you correct corrupted desires without first addressing corrupted thinking? How can you desire rightly if you do not know what is good? While the heart issue is greater, the mind must be addressed first in practice. Peter reflects this order in 2 Peter: “add to your virtue knowledge; and to knowledge temperance.” Ordering desires is primary in importance, but ordering thoughts is primary in sequence.

As Christians, we must pursue both prudence and temperance—correct thinking and correct living. Aristotle helps clarify this distinction with his categories of intellectual virtues (those of the mind, learned through teaching) and moral virtues (those of the heart, developed through practice and habit). This brings us to a crucial concept: habit.

Rather than saying, “you are what you eat,” it is more accurate to say, “you are what you do.” And ultimately, you do what you love. This is reflected in James K. A. Smith’s book You Are What You Love: The Spiritual Power of Habit. Many of the ideas in this article are influenced by that work. Smith highlights the formative power of habits. We are what we repeatedly do. We sin because we love sin. As Scripture says, man chose darkness rather than light because his deeds were evil. We are shaped by what we habitually practice.

Herein lies both our problem and part of the solution: habits. The sequence works like this—You are what you do. You do what you habitually practice. You habitually practice what you love. But here is the hope: change what you do, and you begin to change your habits; change your habits, and you begin to reshape your desires. This is the pathway to moral formation. Aristotle recognized this, and James K. A. Smith develops it from a biblical perspective.

Peter’s sequence ultimately culminates in love: “add to your faith virtue; and to virtue knowledge; and to knowledge temperance; and to temperance patience; and to patience godliness; and to godliness brotherly kindness; and to brotherly kindness charity.” Paul and Peter both teach that charity (love) is the greatest virtue (1 Corinthians 13, Colossians 3:14 and 1 Peter 4:8).



In 2 Peter 1:5–7, we see several ideas consistent with Aristotelian virtue ethics—virtue, knowledge, temperance, and patience—but Peter frames them within a distinctly Christian structure. He begins with faith and ends with love. Greek philosophy lacked both the proper foundation and the proper end (telos). We do not generate virtue from within ourselves. Before we can “add virtue,” we must consider what we are adding it to—faith.

Faith is the starting point. It is through Christ that we receive the power for transformation: 

“According as his divine power hath given unto us all things that pertain unto life and godliness, through the knowledge of him who hath called us to glory and virtue: whereby are given unto us exceeding great and precious promises: that by these ye might be partakers of the divine nature, having escaped the corruption that is in the world through lust" (2 Peter 1:3-4). 

Through Him, we are given both the knowledge that corrects our minds and the power that transforms our desires. Notice several things in this passage: First, the power for change comes from God’s grace through Christ. Second, we are called to grow in virtue. Third, we are transformed through knowledge of Him (addressing the mind) and by escaping the corruption of lust (addressing the heart). Finally, though the power is God’s, effort is still required: “giving all diligence” (2 Peter 1:5).

Christ is the answer to both our fallen minds and our fallen hearts. He is the true teacher of virtue that Socrates never found. Those who have faith in Him are empowered to change. It is God’s will that we be conformed to the image of His Son. The virtuous person is one who, by faith in Christ, chooses to think and act rightly until those choices become habits, and those habits become virtues, and those virtues become part of who he is in the Lord.

- Sean Herhold