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This chapter considers how Severan jurists responded to political crisis. After describing the political dynamics that made jurists such important players in Severan administration, I discuss two rhetorical features of Severan juristic writing: Severan jurists’ tendency to describe jurisprudence in terms of its beneficial effects on the world rather than its elegance or internal morality, and their increasing use of anonymous citational forms like “emperors have written” rather than citing individual authorities by name. These maneuvers reconstructed imperial lawmaking as a static, impersonal field of knowledge and made interpretation, the job of the jurist, into the critical act that constituted Roman legality.
This article re-thinks the development of Paul’s thought between 1 and 2 Corinthians. Instead of the traditional developmental interpretation of Paul that emphasizes the differences between 1 Cor 15:35–57 and 2 Cor 5:1–5, I argue that a discernable development is to be found between 1 Cor 12:13 and 2 Cor 4:7–12. I demonstrate significant parallels between the two latter texts in terms of topic, argumentation, and the conceptual structure on which Paul’s argumentation is built. Based on the parallels, I argue that 1 Cor 12:13 conceptually allows for the innovative idea of “ongoing transformation,” which is formulated in 2 Cor 3:18, and provides the conceptual structure of “double body-containers” in 2 Cor 4:7–12 to expound this new idea. In the context of 2 Corinthians, responding to opponents’ challenge against the apostle’s physical weakness in sufferings, Paul goes on to develop the idea of ongoing transformation further by transforming mortality. Mortality becomes a form of human participation in God’s cosmic war and is considered constructive to the ongoing transformation of the inner person and the complete transformation in the future.
This chapter examines how the history of science became a resource for the development and defense of important alternatives to logical empiricist views of scientific theory and the growth of scientific knowledge. The chapter also examines the different meanings attached to scientific paradigms in Thomas Kuhn’s account of scientific change and different notions of incommensurability implicated in his account. Like other postpositivist thinkers, Kuhn rejects the logical empiricist idea of separating observational and theoretical language, arguing instead that observation is theory-laden. The history of science plays an important but distinct role in Imre Lakatos’s methodology of scientific research programs, which aims to represent the rationality of scientific thought. The chapter concludes by examining Paul Feyerabend’s epistemological anarchism, which appears to cast doubt on the prospects for providing a systematic account of scientific rationality. Are Feyerabend’s views as extreme as their expression suggests, or is there another way to understand his provocations?
The Cambridge Companion to Biblical Narrative offers an overview and a concise introduction to an exciting field within literary interpretation of the Hebrew Scriptures and New Testament. Analysis of biblical narrative has enjoyed a resurgence in recent decades, and this volume features essays that explore many of the artistic techniques that readers encounter in an array of texts. Specially commissioned for this volume, the chapters analyze various scenes in Genesis, Exodus and the wilderness wanderings, Israel's experience in the land and royal experiment in Kings and Chronicles, along with short stories like Ruth, Jonah, Esther, and Daniel. New Testament essays examine each of the four gospels, the book of Acts, stories from the letters of Paul, and reading for the plot in the book of Revelation. Designed for use in undergraduate and graduate courses, this Companion will serve as an excellent resource for instructors and students interested in understanding and interpreting biblical narrative.
The goal of this article is to explain two words which commentators often find puzzling – Paul’s εἴ πως, which hesitantly qualify his expectation of resurrection in Phil 3.11. After considering the semantics of εἴ πως, and various scholarly interpretations of this verse, this article will propose what is very much currently a minority view, and will offer further evidence for it. The explanation for Paul’s εἴ πως καταντήσω εἰς τὴν ἐξανάστασιν τὴν ἐκ νεκρῶν in Phil 3.11 is to be found in his uncertainty about whether he will die and be raised, or whether he will survive until the parousia. The clause also indicates his preference for the former.
Prayer is one of the basic elements of religious life and is widespread in most religions. It is the human act, verbal and non-verbal, of communicating with a transcendent being (in the broadest sense). In comparison to its communicative function, the written form of prayer is secondary. This study differentiates between prayer as act, prayer as text and prayer as subject, understood as any reference to or statement made about prayer. In First Thessalonians, as in contemporary letters, prayer as subject can be found in a variety of ways. An especially remarkable feature is the prayer texts and acts of prayer (although these are not numerous and mostly short), which imply a change of addressee within the communicative situation of the letter. Against the background of ancient letters and epistolary conventions of the time, this article examines the characteristics and the specific function of prayer (as text, act and subject) in First Thessalonians. It argues that the Christian message shapes and multiplies the references to prayer, also integrating short texts and acts of prayer which transcend the epistolary communication, deepening not only the relationship between Paul, Silvanus, and Timothy and the Thessalonians but also their relationship to God and in God.
The resurrection of Jesus, pivotal to Christian history and praxis, is universally attested in early Christian sources, even if often critiqued or sidelined as myth or apologetics in modern scholarship. Paul’s letters and of the Gospels in their narrative diversity document the resurrection’s transformative and abiding impact on Jesus’s followers. In bringing the aspirations of myth and metaphor to fruition in time, the resurrection of Jesus is both an event in history and yet constitutes a new reality that transcends the register of available language and analogy.
This chapter examines the figure of Jesus in the letters of Paul, where Jesus is most often called Christ or messiah. The analysis briefly considers the linguistic puzzles around Paul’s use of the word “Christ,” then trace the contours of Paul’s particular account of Jesus as the Christ: his being sent by God, dying for others, effecting the resurrection of the dead, subduing all rival powers, and handing over kingship to God.
This is the first of two chapters concerned with the Jewish practice of infant male circumcision. In this chapter, I trace the history of circumcision as a trope for Jewish difference in European Christian thought and consider its symbolic role in debates about the legal equality of Jews. Christian thinkers spent much time pondering Jewish circumcision and what it told them about the supposedly ‘carnal’, particularistic, and anachronistic nature of Jews. Apart from constituting a trope for what differentiated Jews from Christians, the bodily sign eventually also became enmeshed in discussions about the possibility of Jewish emancipation where it offered a site to debate the fitness of Jews to become citizens. However, regardless of how much Christians disdained circumcision, they mostly respected the Jewish right to circumcise and due to a curious twist of history, some Christian societies eventually even embraced circumcision themselves. More recently, circumcision has emerged as a human rights issue and I explore the role of Christian ambivalence in contemporary calls for a ban on the practice in the name of children’s rights and gender equality.
Paul's epistemology was famously mapped onto his eschatology by J. Louis Martyn, but it must be mapped also onto his ecclesiology. For Paul, knowing is bound always and indissolubly to living with others. To understand how Paul would have us know things, then, we must focus not on knowledge as such, but on epistemic practices in ecclesial communities. Whereas the Corinthians’ use of wisdom and knowledge made for fragmentation and dissolution in the body of Christ (1 Cor 1–4; 8–10), Paul would have practices with knowledge instantiate communion and care for one another, as is proper for Christ's body. Integral to theological knowing is a sense of what and whom theology is for, a sense being critically explored in recent evaluations of theological education.
The apostle Paul was a Jew. He was born, lived, undertook his apostolic work, and died within the milieu of ancient Judaism. And yet, many readers have found, and continue to find, Paul's thought so radical, so Christian, even so anti-Jewish – despite the fact that it, too, is Jewish through and through. This paradox, and the question how we are to explain it, are the foci of Matthew Novenson's groundbreaking book. The solution, says the author, lies in Paul's particular understanding of time. This too is altogether Jewish, with the twist that Paul sees the end of history as present, not future. In the wake of Christ's resurrection, Jews are perfected in righteousness and – like the angels – enabled to live forever, in fulfilment of God's ancient promises to the patriarchs. What is more, gentiles are included in the same pneumatic existence promised to the Jews. This peculiar combination of ethnicity and eschatology yields something that looks not quite like Judaism or Christianity as we are used to thinking of them.
This chapter shows the Jewish context of the New Testament and discusses the implications of the fact that while these writings are primarily Jewish, they have become Christian scripture. The documents highlight continuities and discontinuities between Judaism and Christianity, including themes found throughout the Documentary History, such as covenant and the identity of the people of Israel.
This chapter shows the Jewish context of the New Testament and discusses the implications of the fact that while these writings are primarily Jewish, they have become Christian scripture. The documents highlight continuities and discontinuities between Judaism and Christianity, including themes found throughout the Documentary History, such as covenant and the identity of the people of Israel.
Jews and Christians have interacted for two millennia, yet there is no comprehensive, global study of their shared history. This book offers a chronological and thematic approach to that 2,000-year history, based on some 200 primary documents chosen for their centrality to the encounter. A systematic and authoritative work on the relationship between the two religions, it reflects both the often troubled history of that relationship and the massive changes of attitude and approach in more recent centuries. Written by a team leading international scholars in the field, each chapter introduces the context for its historical period, draws out the key themes arising from the relevant documents, and provides a detailed commentary on each document to shed light on its significance in the history of the Jewish–Christian relationship. The volume is aimed at scholars, teachers and students, clerics and lay people, and anyone interested in the history of religion.
There is no scholarly consensus on whether Paul’s mandates on head coverings were directed solely to married women or to all women in the Corinthian community. I suggest the discussion can be tentatively advanced by considering two factors that have not received the attention they warrant in conjunction with this passage: first, the presence of slaves in the community, and second, that the Genesis material which Paul alludes to in these verses was understood in some ancient thought as addressing the institution of marriage rather than creation. I propose that, in view of these considerations, it is more likely that Paul directed his exhortations towards free(d) married women.
On five occasions in Pauline literature, the author claims to write in their own hand. In three of the five instances, the autograph is reserved for the final greeting and the greeting alone. In Galatians 6.11 and Philemon 19, however, Paul writes more than the letter's greeting in his own hand, as the comment about his autograph appears well before the closing salutations. This article engages one of these texts, Philemon, and argues that it was written entirely in Paul's hand. The letter was a Pauline holograph. To make this argument, the article first assesses the ‘cheirographic rhetoric’ of Philemon 19. Paul alludes to a type of documentary writing, the cheirograph, that recorded various sorts of financial proceedings. Paul's autographic guarantee recalls validation statements that were integral to this genre of text. Comparanda from the non-literary papyri show that when an author of a cheirograph called specific attention to their own handwriting, the entire document was customarily written in their own hand. The article then turns to the personal nature of Philemon and the abundance of second-person singular forms, arguing that there was a strong preference that personal letters like Philemon be handwritten in Paul's context. Taken together, these two arguments demonstrate that Paul's short letter to Philemon was more likely to be handwritten than dictated.
First Corinthians 6.1–6 is consistently read as a Pauline criticism directed against members of the Pauline ekklēsia in Corinth, taking each other to Roman courts. I argue that this understanding of 1 Cor 6.1–6 is implausible in light of practices of Roman law in the provinces and in the colonies. Within a formal court procedure, the Corinthians would not have had the freedom to appoint their own judges, as Paul's language implies. I suggest instead that it is private arbitration which Paul criticises. Papyri dealing with private arbitration and mediation support this reading. Much of Paul's legal terminology in the passage is found in these papyri, making private arbitration a highly plausible suggestion. The suggested reading points to the community's good social ties with the pagan population in the city. It also depicts Paul as working within the framework of Roman law rather than against it. The article exemplifies the benefits of integrating up-to-date studies of Roman law in New Testament Studies.
In this paper, I examine several sources of authority to which Origen laid claim as he set about the task of interpreting scripture. On occasion, in both his commentaries and his homilies, Origen provided accounts of his access to three different, though connected sources of authority that contributed to his self-presentation as an expert interpreter. These sources are as follows: 1) participation in the lineage of the apostles, particularly his exegetical role model, Paul. The second source of authority is a result of the first: 2) direct communication from the Logos, whom he understands to be Christ himself, and 3) angelic assistance and engagement with his pastoral exegetical project. In some instances, Origen even claimed to be on par with two of these sources of authority; he can be found claiming to have exegetical abilities similar to Paul's and, on some rare occasions, to have reached the same epistemological level as the angels. This analysis provides us not only with a case study of the kind of self-fashioning and authorising strategies used by elite scriptural exegetes in the first few centuries of the common era, but it also allows us to shift our focus away from exegetical methods towards the figure, personality and social position of the exegete him or herself. From this shift of focus we gain a better appreciation of a topic to which exegetical authors themselves dedicated considerable energy: just who it was that could occupy the office of authoritative Christian exegete and why.
Paul's letters depict gentiles and Jews with different characteristics of sin. This article focuses on Paul's rhetoric about Jewish shortcomings and argues that he has an eschatological myth of Jewish sin: it is the period in the Jewish deity's plan when he has hardened his people into disobedience and disloyalty. While scholars have traditionally tried to connect Paul's ideas about Jewish sin to deficiencies of historical Jews, Paul's claims are primarily animated by his Jewish eschatological scheme and competitive rhetorical needs. Paul re-emerges as a Jewish writer within his competitive social landscape wherein ethnic differentiation was an expected way of imagining the human and divine realms.