I have called this an essay in detection. That means it is a tale of some mystery and still more imagination. It must be left to the reader to decide whether it should properly be classed as detective fiction.

Das Gesetzesverständnis des Paulus ist in letzter Zeit wieder in den Brennpunkt der Diskussion getreten. Dabei scheint mir über dem systematischen Interesse an der inneren Einheit der untereinander so spannungsreichen Aussagen die einfache historische Frage, ob Paulus denn wirklich in all seinen Briefen eine durchweg einheitliche Konzeption zeige, immer noch zu wenig Gewicht zu erhalten. Zwar verlockt der integrale Charakter des Römerbriefs dazu, die hier zweifellos vorhandene, im Zusammenhang vorgetragene Konzeption als Rahmen zu benutzen, in den sich die Aussagen der übrigen Briefe einordnen lassen. Aber auf diesem Wege liegt zugleich die Gefahr nah, daß, die Aussagen der übrigen Briefe zu wenig in ihrem je eigenen Skopos zur Geltung kommen, weil sie dem des Römerbriefs zu- und eingeordnet werden und so ihre Eigenart, ja u.U. auch manche Gegensätzlichkeit verlieren. Der umgekehrten Betrachtungsweise kommt jedenfalls zunächst der methodische Primat zu: die Briefe des Paulus in chronologischer Reihenfolge durchzumustern, so daß die Aussagen des Römerbriefs erst am Schluß ihren Ort bekommen. Damit öffnet sich zumindest die Möglichkeit einer Entwicklung im Denken des Paulus. Die folgende Skizze soll ein Beitrag dazu sein.

Most scholars who have tried to understand the divisions that arose at the Lord's Supper in Corinth in the light of their concrete domestic setting have done so with regard to the physical structure of the Roman villa, with its triclinium, atrium, etc., often following the work of Jerome Murphy-O'Connor. However, there are a number of reasons, related both to the nature of the archaeological evidence and to the likely socio-economic level of the Corinthian Christians, why such a setting is far less plausible than is generally thought. Certainly, other possible kinds of domestic space should also be carefully considered. The excavations east of the theatre at Corinth carried out during the 1980s provide just one case study of a different kind of domestic space, which, it is argued, offers a more plausible background.

The publication of George Kennedy's New Testament Interpretation Through Rhetorical Criticism marked the full realization of a growing trend in NT criticism, whereby scholars are beginning to look beyond the limitations of form- and source-criticism for another viable hermeneutical tool. Rhetorical criticism has its origins in the classical canons conceptualized and formulated by the principal rhetoricians of Greek and Roman antiquity, such as Aristotle and Quintilian. This methodology sprang from roots in the ancient world; rhetoric was ‘one of the constraints under which New Testament writers worked’. But it has a universality that transcends its own cultural boundaries, as well as an extraordinary practicality: ‘ … it does study a verbal reality, our text of the Bible, rather than the oral sources standing behind that text, the hypothetical stages of its composition, or the impersonal workings of social forces, and at its best it can reveal the power of those texts as unitary messages’’. Often, too, it is capable of slashing through exegetical Gordian knots that prove otherwise intractable. The ability of rhetorical criticism to evaluate even the more opaque or mystical portions of the NT is a measure of its effectiveness.

Die folgenden Erwägungen halten sich in einem engen Rahmen; sie befassen sich mit einer historischen Einzelfrage der sog. ‘Parteien’ in Korinth, mit denen sich Paulus I Cor. i-iv auseinandersetzt: mit der Kephaspartei und ihrem Verhältnis zu Paulus. Ich behalte den traditionellen Ausdruck ‘Parteien’ bei, gebrauche ihn aber in neutralem Sinn, d. h. ohne die theologische und kirchenpolitische Füllung, die F. C. Baur ihm gegeben hat; er dürfte das Phänomen der σχ⋯σματα und ἔριδɛς und der dazu gehörenden Bekenntnisse zu bestimmten Personen⋯γώ εἰμι Πα⋯;λοu κτλ. (i. 10–12) angemessener bezeichnen als etwa der Ausdruck ‘Gruppe’, der soziologisch vorbelastet ist, oder etwa der Ausdruck ‘Clique’, der ein depravierendes Voruteil enthält.

Der Göttinger Naturwissenschaftler und Schriftsteller Georg Christoph Lichtenberg bemerkte selbstkritisch: ‘Wer nichts als Chemie versteht, versteht auch die nicht recht.’1 Der Nationalökonom Walter Eucken soil dieses Wort auf die Wirtschaftswissen-schaften übertragen haben. Müβten wir im Blick auf unsere Disziplin nicht erst recht formulieren: Ein Neutestamentler, der nur etwas vom Neuen Testament versteht, kann dieses gar nicht richtig verstehen? Ist doch der Gegenstand der neutestamentlichen Wissenschaft – zumindest wenn wir äβerlich gesehen von der Bezeichnung ausgehen – in der Gestalt des Nestle-Aland 26. A. nur ein einziges griechisches Buch im Kleinformat von jetzt 680 Seiten, der alte Nestle 25. A. hatte gar nur 657 aufgrund seines kleineren textkritischen Apparats. Nach Morgenthaler2 umfaβt es 137490 Worte. Allein dieses Manuskript hat 14514. Unter den theologischen wie den geisteswissenschaftlichen Disziplinen, die mit eigenen Lehrstühlen versehen an den Universitäten gelehrt werden, hat das Fach ‘Neues Testament’ gewiβ den am starksten begrenzten Gegenstand. Man vergleiche nur die Nachbardisziplin, die Kirchengeschichte: Der ganze Migne mit 378, die Weimarana mit 100 und das Corpus Reformatorum mit 101 Bänden, dazu zahllose andere Quellen, stehen diesem einen, kleinen Buch gegenüber.

The continuing stream of hypotheses with regard to the Corinthian opposition to Paul will serve as a reminder that this opposition constitutes one of the crucial questions for the understanding of the New Testament and the origins of Christianity. It is not too much to say that a full understanding both of New Testament history and of New Testament theology waits on the right answering of this question. We can see pretty clearly that the development of Christianity in the first three decades after the crucifixion and resurrection of Jesus moved about two poles: on the one hand, the church of Jerusalem, some at least of whose leaders could probably look back to their association with Jesus during his ministry in Palestine, and, on the other, Paul, apostle as he himself but by no means all his contemporaries believed him to be, and the churches he founded in the non-Jewish world. How were these two groups related to each other? Did they act in concert or in opposition? These alternatives are far too simply put, and fail to do justice to the complexity of the facts; but the facts to which justice must be done include the data of II Corinthians, where Paul appears to be confronted by a rival apostolate.

The textual origin of the O.T. citations in Hebrews has long been an enigma. From the time the texts of the two principal witnesses to the LXX, LXXA and LXXB, became available in the early part of the nineteenth century, it has been observed that the text of the citations in Hebrews does not exactly correspond to either. F. Bleek, who was evidently the first to make a systematic textual study of these citations, concluded that the author of Hebrews used a recension closely related to LXXA. Most commentators since have concluded that some text of the LXX was used, variously explaining variations from it as due to citation from memory, intentional adaptations by the author, and errors of transcription in his manuscript. Others have suggested that the citations were taken from a lost version of the Greek O.T. or from liturgical sources.

The most recent addition to the library of books on John the Baptist is that of Josef Ernst, Johannes der Taufer, Interpretation-Geschichte-Wirkungsgeschichte. Like many of its predecessors, it is wide-ranging in scope, extensive in documentation, thorough in analysis, and clear inits conclusions. But also like them it has its blind spots. There are questions thatarenot asked, and answers that are given too glibly. In both cases we are deprived of valuable information.

The two most recent studies of Paul and the law both show a large measure of agreement in criticizing Paul's treatment of the law as inconsistent and self-contradictory. E. P. Sanders argues that Paul's ‘break’ with the law gave rise to different questions and problems, and that his ‘diverse answers, when set alongside one another, do not form a logical whole’.1 So, in particular, Paul's ‘treatment of the law in chapter 2 (of Romans) cannot be harmonized with any of the diverse things which Paul says about the law elsewhere’; in Romans 2 ‘Paul goes beyond inconsistency or variety of argument and explanation to true self-contradiction’.2 More thoroughgoing is H. Räisänen, who can see only one way to handle what Paul says: ‘contradictions and tensions have to be accepted as constant features of Paul's theology of the law’.3 Again and again he finds himself driven to the conclusion that Paul contradicts himself. So, for example, with Rom 13. 8–10: ‘Paul seems here simply to have forgotten what he wrote in ch. 7 or in 10. 4’; ‘(Romans) 2.14–15,26–27 stand in flat contradiction to the main thesis of the section’; Paul puts forward ‘artificial and conflicting theories about the law’.4 The artificiality and tension is evident not least in Gal 3. 10–12, where Räisänen finds the argument of 3. 10 to be at odds with the argument of 3. 11–12.5

Das so lange und heftig umkärnpfte Problem des Rechtes im Neuen Testament scheint mir deshaib nicht in fruchtbarer Weise angefalßt zu sein, weil die Partner dieses Gesprächs durchweg moderne Anschauungen und Verhältnisse für die Urchristenheit voraussetzen zu können meinten, gleichgültig ob sie deren Vorhandensein oder Fehien konstatierten. Aber mit moderner Fragestellung ist diesem Problem nicht letztlich und zentral beizukommen. Das eben entnehrne ich der Debatte, die in Deutschland hauptsächlich urn die Thesen von Rudolf Sohms 1892 erschienenen, aber noch heute bewegenden und faszinierenden Arbeit über das Kirchenrecht kreiste. Das Neue Testament selber bietet uns einen andern Ausgangspunkt. Denn es enthält in semen verschiedensten Teilen merkwürdig gebaute Aussagen, die ich vorläufig noch möglichst umfassend Sätze heiligen Rechtes nenne. Was zu soicher Bezeichnung führt und durch sie ausgedrückt werden soil, wird im folgenden schrittweise erarbeitet.

Few scholars have proposed that there is any precise OT background for Paul's view of reconciliation, even though there has been much discussion about the formulation of the doctrine. There is no Hebrew word for ‘reconciliation’ in the OT; there is general agreement that Paul obtained this word from not only the Jewish but also the Greco-Roman world. The καταλλάσσω–διαλλάσσομαι word group is found in the Septuagint (rarely), 2 and 4 Maccabees and Josephus as well as in classical, hellenistic and koine writings. The use of the word group in these writings has been well documented.

C. K. Barrett, F. F. Bruce and E. Käsemann very briefly state, almost in passing, that difficulties at Corinth arose from an over-realized eschatology. In C. K. Barrett's words, the Corinthians were behaving ‘as if the age to come were already consummated…For them there is no “not yet” to qualify the “already” of realized eschatology.’ This claim, however, needs to be argued more closely, and objections to it considered, since it remains a matter of controversy. The most recent attack on this diagnosis of the situation at Corinth comes from E. Earle Ellis. He argues, firstly, that the error in I Cor. xv ‘offers doubtful support for an eschatological interpretation of I Cor. 4. 8’, and secondly, that it is unlikely that Paul would criticize the Corinthians ‘merely for appropriating an eschatological perspective that he himself has taught’.

Modern translations of the New Testament are united in understanding the phrase πίστις Χριστοû to mean ‘faith in Christ’. In recent years, however, an increasing number of scholars have been advocating the interpretation of πίστις Χριστοû which takes it as a subjective rather than an objective genitive, and understands the phrase as a reference to Christ's own faith or faithfulness. Indeed, there has been so much support for this view in North America that one recent exponent wrote: ‘The correctness of the translation of πίστις Iησοû Χριστοû as the “ faith or faithfulness of Jesus Christ” has by now been too well established to need any further support.’ If he is right, then there is little need for this paper. But I suspect that there is still a large body of opinion, especially on this side of the Atlantic, which holds to the more traditional interpretation. Indeed, those commentators who mention the suggestion tend to dismiss it in a footnote. Thus it would be fairer to say that if any kind of conclusion has been reached, it is that the question is one which cannot be settled on the basis of appeals to grammatical construction alone. This issue can be settled only by exegesis, and because New Testament scholars approach the texts with widely differing presuppositions, they are likely to interpret the phrase in very different ways.

In 1972 Ragnar Leivestad published an article under the title ‘Exit the Apocalyptic Son of Man’. Since then we must assume that the Son of Man has been off stage for a while. Leivestad himself evidently hoped that he had been banished from the boards altogether. He has indeed received encouragement in this hope from the work of Geza Vermes, who has reached rather similar conclusions. There has been a growing feeling among scholars that the perennial debate about the Son of Man can never be brought to a convincing conclusion, because it has been conducted all along on false pre-suppositions. It was assumed that ‘the Son of Man’ was current in the Judaism of New Testament times as the title of a distinct figure of apocalyptic expectation, who should be the victor in the coming eschatological struggle and glorified as the head of the messianic kingdom.

Mark 7.15, which contrasts two modes of defilement, appears in the gospel as a response to the Pharisaic custom of washing hands before eating. In this article, it is argued that this custom embodies an innovative approach to ritual impurity. Hand washing, which originated, so it is argued, in the Greco-Roman practice, was promoted by the Pharisees along with other purity laws, but stands in contrast to the biblical priestly purity system. In this logion, Jesus rejects the Pharisees' new conception of ritual purity, which was designed to guard the self from impurity. This interpretation offers both a coherent narrative and a plausible understanding of the custom within its historical-social context.

In the development of Christology in the primitive church, the emergence of the worship of Jesus is a significant phenomenon. In the exclusive monotheism of the Jewish religious tradition, as distinct from some other kinds of monotheism, it was worship which was the real test of monotheistic faith in religious practice. In the world-views of the early centuries A.D. the gap between God and man might be peopled by all kinds of intermediary beings – angels, divine men, hypostatized divine attributes, the Logos – and the early church's attempt to understand the mediatorial role of Jesus naturally made use of these possibilities. In the last resort, however, Jewish monotheism could not tolerate a mere spectrum between God and man; somewhere a firm line had to be drawn between God and creatures, and in religious practice it was worship which signalled the distinction between God and every creature, however exalted. God must be worshipped; no creature may be worshipped. For Jewish monotheism, this insistence on the one God's exclusive right to religious worship was far more important than metaphysical notions of the unity of the divine nature. Since the early church remained – or at least professed to remain – faithful to Jewish monotheism, the acknowledgement of Jesus as worthy of worship is a remarkable development. Either it should have been rejected as idolatry – and a halt called to the upward trend of christological development – or else its acceptance may be seen with hindsight to have set the church already on the road to Nicene theology.

Much current NT scholarship holds that Paul conducted a ‘Law-free’ mission to Gentiles. In this view, Paul fundamentally repudiated the ethnic boundaries created and maintained by Jewish practices. The present essay argues the contrary: Paul's principled resistance to circumcising Gentiles precisely preserves these distinctions ‘according to the flesh’, which were native to Jewish restoration eschatology even in its Pauline iterations. Paul required his pagans not to worship their native gods—a ritual and a Judaizing demand. Jerusalem's temple, traditionally conceived, gave Paul his chief terms for conceptualizing the Gentiles' inclusion in Israel's redemption. Paul's was not a ‘Law-free’ mission.

The authorship of the Pastorals must have been among the first instances inviting the application of quantitative methods in literature. Schleiermacher's [1] critical campaign against the authenticity of I Timothy uses a great array of hapax legomena for establishing the linguistic peculiarity of that Epistle. The controversy continued on these lines, subsequent workers using linguistic criteria to a greater or lesser extent according to the value they attributed to them. This continued until 1921 when Harrison's book on The Problem of the Pastoral Epistles [2] appeared, in which he presented such overwhelming linguistic evidence against Paul's authorship that most workers regarded the controversy as closed. However, this was not so, and Harrison's procedure has been subjected from time to time to a certain amount of criticism, for example, by W. Michaelis [3, 4], F. R. M. Hitchcock [5, 6], D. Guthrie [7] and B. M. Metzger [8].