In recent years an old problem has been reconsidered in four studies, apparently written independently of one another, which with similar arguments arrive at virtually the same conclusion:1 The Epistle to the Philippians is actually a composition of three Pauline Epistles or fragments thereof.2 According to this conclusion, Phil. iv. 10−20 was the first letter written by Paul to Philippi, i. 1−ii. 30 (or iii. 1) the second, and iii. 1 (or 2)−iv. 1 the third, while the distribution of iv. 2−9 and 21−3 remains uncertain.3

Most scholars acknowledge Matthew's debt to Mark in the composition of his own Gospel, and they are fully aware of his extensive redaction and expansion of this major source. Yet few scholars pose what is an obvious question that arises from these points: What was Matthew's intention for Mark once he had composed and circulated his own revised and enlarged account of Jesus' mission? Did he intend to supplement Mark, in which case he wished his readers to continue to consult Mark as well as his own narrative, or was it his intention to replace the earlier Gospel? It is argued in this study that the evidence suggests that Matthew viewed Mark as seriously flawed, and that he wrote his own Gospel to replace the inadequate Marcan account.

In his excellent study of crucifixion, Martin Hengel has documented the harsh reality of the penalty in antiquity and has shown that it was seldom portrayed in detail or in an idealized manner. These facts are important and should be kept constantly in mind. They make all the more pressing the question why a detailed narrative of Jesus' death was composed and lead us to look closely at the way the story is told. An ancient opponent of Christianity, Celsus, provides an interesting illustration of both the cultural situation and the literary question. On the one hand, he expressed the general view that crucifixion was the most ignominious and shameful type of death. On the other hand, he made charges that were based, not so much on the disgrace of death by crucifixion as such, but on the way the story is told, on the character of Jesus as revealed by the narrative. As is well known, in part of his work entitled On the True Doctrine, he employed the device of a fictitious Jewish interlocutor. Alluding to the scene in Gethsemane, this critic challenged the teaching that Jesus was a god or the son of the most high God because he hid and tried to escape when the Jews decided that he was worthy of death. Further, this so-called god was betrayed by his own disciples, a criticism that applies to several scenes of the passion narrative. Returning to the Gethsemane story, the interlocutor attacks the theory that Jesus foreknew and intended his sufferings on the basis of his portrayal as mourning and lamenting and praying that this cup might pass from him.

Ausgehend von der Gestaltung des Briefpräskriptes wird der Jakobus–brief in textpragmatischer Hinsicht als apostolischer Diasporabrief interpretiert. Intention, sprachliche Gestaltung und wesentliche Themen entsprechen der Tradition frühjüdischer Diasporabriefe (EpJer, 2 Makk 1–2, syrBar 78–86, ParJer 6.17–23). Die Überlieferung der frühjüdischen Diasporabriefe in griechischer Sprache verweist auf die Funktion des Griechischen als Medium der Einheit des Gottesvolkes unter den geschichtlichen Gegebenheiten des Frühjudentums. Aus dem Ver–gleich mit zentralen Aussagezusammenhängen der frühjüdischen Briefe (Gottesverständnis, Aussagen über das Gottesvolk, Zukunftserwartungen, Toraverstandnis) ergibt sich, daβ der Jakobusbrief mit ähnlichen sprachlichen Mitteln und durch eng verwandte Überlieferungen die Identität der Briefadressaten als an Christus glaubende Glieder des Gottesvolkes stärken will.

One of the thorniest questions in New Testament scholarship is the date of the composition of John's Apocalypse. Majority opinion now assigns that exotic book to the last decade of the first century A.D., ὸ , as Irenaeus says. But there are numerous problems with this date, and it is the contention of this study that the most natural date, the date indicated by the book itself and confirmed by outside sources, especially by the Roman historians of the early second century Tacitus, Suetonius and Plutarch is the period immediately following Nero's death in June of 68, that calamitous time known as the Year of the Four Emperors.

The phrase ‘Peace and security’ in 1 Thess 5.3 has traditionally been understood as an echo of the OT prophetic warnings (Jer 6.14; Ezek 13.10; Mic 3.5) against false claims of peace. Stronger evidence exists, however, that the apostle is making use of a popular theme of the imperial Roman propaganda machine. The Romans vigorously promoted themselves through various public media as those who provided not only ‘peace’ but also ‘security’, thereby providing a closer parallel to Paul's statement in 5.3 than any OT text. This essay reviews four kinds of evidence—numismatic, monumental, inscriptional and literary—in order to demonstrate in a decisive fashion that the phrase ‘peace and security’ involves an allusion not to prophetic warning but to Roman political propaganda.

The question, What did Paul know about Jesus of Nazareth?, has long been debated by students of the New Testament. The debate has not issued in any consensus. Indeed, critical appraisals of Paul's relation to the Jesus of history and to traditions about him have been unusually disparate. Thus, on the one side, W. D. Davies has argued that ‘Paul is steeped in the mind and words of his Lord.’ On the other side, R. Bultmann could claim that ‘the teaching of the historical Jesus plays no role, or practically none, in Paul’. The contrast between these two assertions is puzzling, and all the more so as neither can be regarded as idiosyncratic: Davies is not alone in avowing that sayings of and traditions about Jesus were of momentous significance for Paul, and it is not difficult to find critics at one with Bultmann. Moreover, as our two quotations do not simply represent two circles of opinion but also mark poles between which appears a variety of viewpoints, matters are even further complicated.

Die einzige Stelle, an der in den bis jetzt veröffentlichten Texten der neuen Höhlenfunde vom Toten Meer vom Messias gesprochen wird, ist Sekt. 9, 10–11. Es heißt da: ‘Und sie (die Mitglieder der essenischen Gemeinde) sollen sich richten lassen durch die fruheren Rechtssatzungen, durch die die Leute der Gemeinde (schon) von Anfang an sich zurechtweisen ließen, bis zum Kommen eines Prop heten und der Cesaib ten (Messias) Aarons und Israels’ () Über das ‘Kommen eines Propheten’ wird weiter unten noch zu sprechen sein. Das Auffälligste an diesem Satz ist aber, dαβ das (eindeutig lesbare) Wort im Plural cstr. ‘die Gesalbten’ erscheint. Einige Übersetzer haben diesen Plural einfach als Schreibfehler erklärt und durch Streichung des Jod zum Singular emendiert. Aber es ist natürlich höchst bedenklich, die lectio difficillima des Plural so in den geläufigen Begriff ‘des Messias’ im Singular zu verwandeln. Auch der Vorschlag, das Jod als sog. Jod compaginis zu erklären, wie es gelegentlich im A.T. vorkommt, und auf diese Weise das singularische Verständnis zu erreichen, ist sprachlich nicht moglich. Denn es gibt in den neu gefundenen Texten sonst keiner Beleg fur ein solches Jod compaginis. Die Lesung des Wortes als Plural ‘die Gesalbten Aarons und Israels’ ist sprachlich nicht zu umgehen.

The Pauline epistle known as Philemon is generally understood to be a letter written by Paul to a slaveowner on behalf of the runaway slave Onesimus requesting that the latter be allowed to return without penalty to the household in which he served. This article proposes a new interpretation of the letter that differs from the traditional in four major points: (1) the letter is written to a church, a congregation of which the individual addressed in the main body of the letter is a member; it is not a personal letter. (2) the slave Onesimus is with Paul in prison because he was sent there by the individual addressed in the main body of the letter (probably Archippus) on behalf of the Colossae church; Onesimus did not run away. (3) Paul writes to request that Onesimus be released from his obligations in Colossae in order that he might remain with Paul to work in the church in a Christian ministry. (4) Paul makes clear that Onesimus is no longer to be considered a slave within the Christian community, and separately suggests Onesimus be manumitted.

For much of this century the notion of a Menschensohn, or Son of Man figure, loomed large in scholarly reconstructions of Jewish eschatological expectations in the time of Jesus. The primary Jewish attestation of this figure was found, of course, in Dan 7.13, with complementary appearances in the Similitudes of Enoch and 4 Ezra 13. There was considerable diversity of opinion about the origin and precise nature of this figure. More imaginative scholars, like Sigmund Mowinckel, held that ‘Conceptions of a more or less divine Primordial Man were widespread in the ancient east. Apparently there is a historical connexion between the varying figures of this type, which seem to be derived, directly or indirectly, from Iranian or Indo-Iranian myths.’1 The Jewish conception of ‘the Son of Man’ was ‘a Jewish variant of this oriental, cosmological, eschatological myth of Anthropos’,2 influenced by a syncretistic fusion of Iranian and Mesopotamian concepts. At the least, the phrase ‘Son of Man’ was thought to be a well-known, readily recognizable title for a messiah of a heavenly type, in contrast to the national, earthly, Davidic messiah. As recently as 1974 Norman Perrin could claim that all the recent studies of the ‘Son of Man Problem’ he had reviewed agreed on one point: ‘there existed in ancient Judaism a defined concept of the apocalyptic Son of Man, the concept of a heavenly redeemer figure whose coming to earth as judge would be a feature of the drama of the End time.’

Bien avant de poser un problème littéraire aux exégètes modernes, la pluralité et la diversité des évangiles ont préoccupé les anciens chrétiens: il y a en effet des difficultés théologiques évidentes à reconnaître comme normatifs plusieurs témoignages divergents sur une révélation unique.1

Recent investigation of the Pauline corpus has brought into focus several important facets of Paul's rhetorical skill. It is now generally recognized that Paul knew and used the forms and techniques of classical rhetoric. Various analyses of 1 and 2 Thessalonians, Corinthians 1–4, Galatians, for example, have reinforced the conviction that Paul consciously constructed his letters using rhetorical patterns and appeals. This type of investigation does not, however, operate in opposition to the epistolary analysis that was pioneered by Robert Funk and others. Indeed, attention to epistolary clichés and formulae proves especially valuable in reconstructing the ‘rhetorical situation’ of each letter, since these provide a road map of the conversation between Paul and his partners, indicating, for example, what is prior shared knowledge, what is new information and what are the points of controversy in the matters discussed.

Es ist zur Zeit eine liebgewordene Gewohnheit, auf die drückende Last des noch ungelösten johnneischen Rätsels hinzuweisen. Kein anderer als Ernst Käsemann hat dieses jüngst erneut zum Ausdruck gebracht; freilich nicht ohne zugleich seines Rätsels Lösung zu umreißen. Daß sein viel beachteter Diskussionsbeitrag vor allem Rudolf Bultmann mit seiner Deutung des Johannesevangeliums zum Gesprächspartner wählt, ist die einzing angemessene Entscheidung. Dabei läßt sich die Antwort des gegen seinen Lehrer rebellierenden Schülers in ihrer Gegensätzlichkeit zum Wort des Meisters kaum extremer denken. Solche Antithetik ist für den Exegeten allemal ein Stachel, der zu erneuter Textinterpretation reizt. Dabei gilt es festzuhalten, daß dieser Gegensatz neben dem historisch-exegetischen auch seinen theologiegeschichtlichen Aspekt besitzt: Bultmann interpretiert mit Hilfe der durch die Existentialanalyse bereitgestellten Begrifflichkeit und zu einem nicht unwesentlichen Teil auch unter Rückgriff auf die Paradoxchristologie Sören Kierkegaards. Käsemann hingegen greift auf die alte liberale Johannes-Interpretation zurück, wenn er den johanneischen Christus als über die Erde schreitenden Gott darstellt. Der Aufweis theologiegeschichtlicher Bedingtheit sollte dem Exegeten stets ein Achtungszeichen sein. Doch ist über die Angemessenheit der herangezogenen Interpretationshilfen damit noch nichtentschieden. Allerdings müssen die Denkmodelle im Blick auf den auszulegenden Text ihre Bewährungsprobe bestehen. Diese Kritik soll an einem entscheidenden Punkt johanneischer Theologie vorgeführt werden, nämalich an dem Verhältnis von Wunder und Christologie.

This paper wants to address the question, why and how the term εỦαγγέλιον, originally a term for the early Christian proclamation, became the designation of a certain type of literature. Closely related problems have been discussed repeatedly in New Testament scholarship for several generations: (1) The origin of the term εỦαγγέλιον. (2) The consistency and uniformity of its meaning in its Christian usage. (3) The question of the literary genre of the writings which later became known as ‘gospels’. I shall comment on the second and third of these problems insofar as they concern the question addressed in this paper, but I shall leave aside the question of the background and origin of the term.

The following article is the result of frequent conversations between the two authors about the fragments of a scroll from the 11th Cave at Qumran, recently published by A. S. van der Woude. At a later stage the fragments as well as the material for this article were discussed in a number of meetings of the Qumran seminar in the University of Groningen. The authors wish to thank the members of that seminar (and others) for stimulating comments and suggestions and hope that their article in turn will stimulate others to further research on this interesting new document.

Paul's ‘therapeutic epistle’ in 2 Cor 1.1–2.13; 7.5–16 provides material for a comparative analysis of Paul's view of the emotions and emotional therapy in the context of ancient psychagogic literature. Paul's treatment of ‘remorse’ and ‘repentance’ demonstrates his familiarity with the discourse of the philosophers on the role of the passions in moral progress. Paul's account of ‘pain’ is shown to be anomalous in the context of ancient psychagogic literature shaped by a Stoicizing theory of the emotions. Paul emerges from this comparative analysis as the harbinger of change in the ancient theory of the emotions and the practice of emotional therapy.

In a recently-published article, P. Stuhlmacher has outlined three major contemporary theories of the occasion of Paul's letter to the Romans: 1) Romans is addressed to a specific situation within the Roman community itself, 2) it is composed primarily with Paul's forthcoming delivery of the collection to Jerusalem in mind, and 3) it emerges from a convergence of the first two motivations. While not wishing to deny that the Jerusalem trip was a preoccupation of Paul as he composed Romans (see Romans 15. 25, 30–32), I intend in this study to strengthen the Roman side of the equation, first by surveying a range of arguments about the Roman situation as it relates to the letter, then by suggesting a new approach to the question.

1. What does Gal. 1–2 tell us about the relationship between Paul and the Jerusalem apostles during the ‘tunnel’ period between his conversion and his earliest correspondence? That is one of the key questions relating to the beginnings of Christianity which has never achieved a completely satisfactory resolution. It is clear enough that in Galatians itself Paul is striving to assert his independence from Jerusalem – that is hardly to be disputed. But that explanation has always left a number of puzzling loose ends. It is certainly a necessary explanation but has proved insufficient in itself to explain all that Paul says. We may think, for example, of the admission in 2. 2 that the decision of the Jerusalem apostles regarding Paul's gospel could have rendered his missionary work useless; and the awkward syntax of 2. 3–5 has given rise to various theses at odds with the clear overall thrust of these two chapters.

Amongst the many incidental issues raised by J. T. Milik in his edition of the Aramaic fragments of Enoch from Qumran1 that of the date of the Parables of Enoch is perhaps one of the most important. Although there has never been anything approaching a consensus as to the exact date of this work, I would think it fair to say that many scholars in this century, if not the majority, have taken the view that the Parables are Jewish in origin; many have also argued that they date from before A.D. 70.2 Milik's view that the Parables are Christian and date from around A.D. 270 has such enormous implications for our understanding of the development of intertestamental Judaism and of the use of the term ‘Son of Man’ in the gospels that it demands very careful consideration. It also suggests that the evidence on which the Jewish origin and pre-A.D. 70 dating has been based needs to be re-examined.