Die lukanische Darstellung der Jerusalemer Gemeinde ist von vielerlei Einflüssen geprägt. Unbeachtet blieben bisher Elemente, die sich auch und vor allem im antiken Vereinswesen finden: familienähnliche Beziehungen, das Freundschaftsideal, die Gütergemeinschaft als Wohltäterschaft einzelner, die zentrale Bedeutung von Mahlfeiern, die Versammlung in Privaträumen, die hierarchische Struktur sowie eine grundsätzliche egalitäre Ausrichtung. Diese Parallelen, aber auch die Differenzen im Blick etwa auf die Bedeutung von Status und den uneingeschränkten Zugang zur christlichen Gemeinde, lassen das Profil der lukanischen Darstellung geschärft hervortreten: Lukas wollte eine neue Form von Gemeinschaft, die antike Ideale verwirklicht und übersteigt.

The redactional pericope in Matt 7.21–23, in which Jesus the final judge condemns certain false Christians, can and should be viewed as an anti-Pauline text. Those rejected by the Matthean Jesus are none other than Paul and those of his circle. This identification is indicated not only by their description as workers of lawlessness, but also by their defence that they are true Christians because they prophesy, work miracles and perform exorcisms in the name of Jesus. These charismatic activities were clearly associated with Paul and/or his churches.

Critics who posit the ‘gospels for all Christians’ theory contend that gospels reflect neither the history nor the concerns of the communities within which they were produced. Despite advocacy for the theory from an increasing number of scholars, others continue to reconstruct diverse gospel communities. There is some common ground between the two sides of the debate: the majority of scholars from both perspectives agree that gospels were composed within communal settings. If we take this agreement as our starting point and investigate communal writing practices in antiquity, we might productively forge an agreeable method for determining the scope of intended gospel audiences. This study analyzes the collective process of writing in ancient associations, now regarded as analogous in many ways to early Christ-groups. In doing so, a framework is provided for understanding how and to whom gospels produced in Christ-groups might have been composed. The study finds the ‘all Christians’ theory inconsistent with communal practices of writing.

Writing more than fifty years ago Ernst Lohmeyer said of Phil 2. 5–11, ‘Dieser Abschnitt gehört zu den schwierigsten Abschnitten der paulinischen Briefe.’ The passing years have only served to confirm his judgment, and in fact Lohmeyer himself did much to shape the terms of reference for the subsequent investigation of this complex passage by his emphasis on its poetic structure, its traditional character, and its conceptual background. Perhaps the most important trend to emerge in the scholarly research of this passage in the last two decades has been the attention given to whether Phil 2. 6–1 1, the supposed poetic piece in the passage, presupposes or contains a reference to the pre-existence of Christ. Up until the 1960s it was generally assumed that the passage referred to Christ's heavenly pre-existence, and thus R. H. Fuller writing in 1965 could declare the occasional attempts at eliminating the idea of pre-existence from the passage a failure. In light of a series of important investigations which have appeared since then, Fuller's pronouncement can no longer be affirmed unreservedly. The momentum of research may in fact be in the opposite direction. J. Murphy-O'Connor, for example, claims that ‘the notion of pre-existence is only part of the Vorverständnis with which exegetes approach the hymn’ rather than a conclusion derived from the careful investigation of the passage and its backgrounds.

In a recent article on ‘1 Cor 7:32–35 and Stoic Debates about Marriage, Anxiety, and Distraction’, David L. Balch offers a contribution to the debate whether Stoic ideas, are reflected in Paul's discussion. Balch concludes, in part, that the Roman Stoic Musonius Rufus and the Apostle Paul agree that ‘marriage is helpful for some, not advantageous for others’.

The relation of the so-called ‘mystical’ to the so-called ‘juridical’ aspect of Paul's theology has been frequently discussed. While Albert Schweitzer thought that the doctrine of justification by faith was no more than a ‘side-crater’ in the Pauline theology, Rudolf Bultmann considered the idea of a participation in the destiny of Christ a Gnostic influence not really fitting into the Pauline pattern of thought. This disagreement is not of merely historical interest; behind it lies the central theological problem of the significance of Jesus' life, death and resurrection for us today. Is this significance to be expressed in the categories of an example to be followed or a forerunner, who opens the way ahead for us, or are the categories of sacrificial or vicarious death more adequate? At first sight, the two patterns seem to contradict each other. According to the first, the believer dies with Christ; Christ's death becomes the believer's death; according to the second, Christ dies under the curse of divine judgement, lest the believer undergo this judgement. However, the first observation that we make in the Pauline texts is the coincidence of both lines in the same sentence: II Cor. v. 14: ‘One has died for all; therefore all have died’; I Thess. v. 10: ‘Christ died for us so that whether we wake or sleep we might live with him.’

While allowing for polysemy, scholars seem mostly averse to ambiguity, as in the πίστις Χριστοῦ debate; but, it would seem, without engaging with ancient semantic theory. There the model of ‘naming’ and so of evoking an otherwise unspecified mental impression, predominates. Meaning is taken to lie in the mind, not in the word or words that are hoped to evoke it, as is also shown in ancient discussions of metaphor, allegory, and paraphrase. Connotations of individual words are rarely distinguished, rarely if ever purged. We are not justified in expecting verbal precision where our ancient authors will neither have attempted it nor will their hearers have expected it; nor, indeed, do modern psycholinguists appear to find space for it.

In the Protestant tradition the Bible has long been regarded as the sole norm for the Church. It was from this root that, in the seventeenth century, there sprang first of all ‘biblical theology’, from which New Testament theology later branched off at the beginning of the nineteenth century. Radical historical criticism too kept closely to this tradition, and F. C. Baur made such a theology the goal of all his efforts in the study of the New Testament. Since that time the question how the problem thus posed is to be tackled and solved has remained a living issue in Germany. On the other hand, the problem for a long time held no interest for other church traditions, although here too the position has changed within the last two decades. In 1950 Meinertz wrote the first Catholic exposition, while the theme was taken up in France by Bonsirven in 1951, and by Richardson in England in 1958. Popular developments along these lines were to follow.

The thesis which I would like to discuss is the negative one that the sentence ‘flesh and blood cannot inherit the Kingdom of God’ does not refer to the resurrection of the dead, but is to be understood otherwise. I shall try, firstly, to give a short exegesis of the verse I Cor. xv. 50 and of its context; then, secondly, to re-examine the line of thought of I Cor. xv in the light of this exegesis; and lastly, try to show some consequences of the result for our understanding of the eschatology of the Apostle.

This article argues that when the fundamentally Jewish character of 1 Corinthians is recognized, a clear structure and argument emerges. The order of the material reflects Paul's own agenda seen in patterns elsewhere in his letters. While unity is clearly a significant issue, Paul's main concern is with the purity of the church and the glory of God. The Corinthian church is part of the fulfillment of the OT expectation of worldwide worship of the God of Israel, and as God's eschatological temple they must act in a manner appropriate to their holy status by shunning pagan vices and glorifying God under the lordship of Christ.

Mon propos n'est pas de faire le status quaestionis sur les travaux qui, depuis maintenant deux décennies, ont systématiquement étudié le NT à l'aide de la rhétorique gréco-romaine. Sans doute est-il encore trop tôt pour dresser un bilan exhaustif. Malgré tout, les tendances de la recherche se dessinent avec suffisamment de précision pour qu'il soit possible de suggérer des pistes de réflexion et des changements substantiels dans l'approche rhétorique des textes – en particulier pauliniens.

‘Qui se ressemble s'assemble’: le proverbe exprime bien les forces d'attirance et de convenance mutuelles qui agglomèrent peuples, sociétés et communautés. Ces forces sont bien connues des sociologues dont la science consiste précisément à analyser les lois de cohésion ou de répulsion qui régissent les groupes, à identifier intérêts, idéaux, totems ou principes qui aimantent les assemblages. Sur ce point la Novi Testamenti Societas n'échappe pas à la règle.

In recent years a number of tests of authorship have been developed. Such tests are based on the examination of some habit, generally one which embodies the result of a choice frequently confronting any author in his composition. The test described in this paper is based upon the habit of placing, as the last word in a sentence, different classes of words.

Writing about 177 AD Celsus claimed that Christians and Jews quarrel with one another very foolishly. ‘Their wrangle with one another about Christ is no different from that called in the proverb a fight about the shadow of an ass.’ Celsus continues: ‘There is nothing worthy of attention in the dispute of Jews and Christians with one another.’

In der Arbeit der Seminargruppe 8 soll nach ‘Paulus und Jesus’ unter dem besonderen Aspekt von ‘Grundproblemen der Beziehungen Pauli zur Jesus-tradition’ gefragt werden.1 Gibt es zu diesem so viel diskutierten Thema noch neue Aspekte, die eine erneute Diskussion lohnen? Vor allem: Was macht das Thema erneut so aktuell, daß sich eine Arbeitsgruppe unserer SNTS gerade ihm widmen will?

The story of Jesus and the Adulteress (John 7. 53–8. 11) is fraught with historical and literary problems, many of which have seemed insoluble. On only two points is there a scholarly consensus: the passage did not originally form part of the Fourth Gospel, and it bears a close resemblance to Synoptic, particularly Lukan, traditions about Jesus. The arguments for these judgments are overwhelming and do not need to be repeated here. In some respects these unanimous conclusions have themselves brought into sharp focus the thorny problems of the story's textual and pre-literary history: (1) Textual. Since the oldest and best textual witnesses of the Gospel of John do not contain the passage, how should the allusive references to it from the second and third centuries be evaluated? Did Papias know this story? If so, did he find it in the Gospel according to the Hebrews? Or was it Eusebius, who informs us of Papias's knowledge of this or a similar story, who found it there? What form of the story was known to the author of the Didascalia and his subsequent editor, the author of the Apostolic Constitutions? Did Origen know the story? If not, when was it first accepted into the Alexandrian canon? (2) Preliterary. How should this story be classified form-critically? And in what Sitz im Leben of the early church would it have thrived? Does the story preserve authentic tradition from the life of Jesus? Scholarship has reached an impasse on these questions because the early evidence is so sparse. Martin Dibelius's famous pronouncement from a different context applies here as well: ‘Enlightenment is to be expected not from new hypotheses but only from new discoveries.’

There is a widespread assumption in Acts' scholarship that the Ethiopian eunuch is an elite official who reflects Luke's larger interest in high-status individuals. Such an assumption, however, overlooks the inextricable connection between status, gender and ethnicity in the Greco-Roman world, and how the eunuch's repeated designation as ‘the eunuch’ would have affected his status in particular. This article thus problematises the depiction of the eunuch as an elite convert by contextualising the eunuch's identification as both a ‘eunuch’ (εὐνοῦχος) and an ‘Ethiopian’ (Αἰθίοψ). Overall, the eunuch is an ambiguous figure who embodies the boundary-crossing nature of the gospel itself.

Since the author of Hebrews locates his readers in Israel's wilderness period in Heb 3.1–4.11 and 11.8–39, the discussion of παιδɛία in 12.5–13 should be interpreted in light of early Jewish conceptions of Israel's time in the wilderness. Confirmation that this is the correct context in which to understand 12.5–13 will be found in Deuteronomy, Wisdom, Philo, and Josephus, all of whom, like Hebrews, consider endurance of the disciplinary period of the wilderness necessary in order to inherit the promised rest. For this reason, Hebrews warns of Esau, the paradigmatic example of the undisciplined person who forfeits his inheritance.