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.

The instructions to slaves and masters in the Colossian Haustafel have long raised questions about their concrete meaning for their intended audience. Drawing principally on recent research on the Roman family, but also on other texts, inscriptions and imagery, this article seeks to show that the implications of the household code for the sexual treatment of slaves must have varied widely. Important factors included the believing or non-believing nature of each household and the complexity of familial arrangements generally. Ultimately, Colossians appears implicitly to recognise a degree of honour in the case of slaves, a view that may sometimes have led to greater respect for familial/sexual boundaries than was otherwise usual.

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.

Brent Shaw has recently argued that the Neronian persecution never occurred. In fact, there are no grounds for doubting Tacitus’ report of the persecution. Sources later than Tacitus (Melito, Dionysius of Alexandria) date the martyrdoms of Peter and Paul to the reign of Nero, but those reports have no bearing on the veracity of Tacitus’ account.

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.

J. H. Ropes has written of James: ‘As in the diatribes, there is a general controlling motive in the discussion, but no firm and logically disposed structure giving a strict unity to the whole, and no trace of the conventional arrangement recommended by the elegant rhetoricians’. Challenging Rope's assessment, the thesis of this study is that James 2 is constructed according to a standard elaboration pattern for argumentation discussed by the Greco-Roman rhetoricians.

Die traditionsgeschichtliche Betrachtungsweise hat entscheidend dazu beigetragen, jenen großen theologischen Verstehensprozeß aufzuhellen, in dessen Verlauf die älteste Christenheit das Sterben Jesu als heilsmächtiges Geschehen zu deuten gelernt hat. Sie vermochte nämlich zu zeigen, daßsich innerhalb der älteren Schichten des Neuen Testamentes verschiedene Ansätze zu einer Interpretation des Kreuzes finden, die ihren Sitz in verschiedenen Traditionskreisen haben und erst relativ spät miteinander verbunden worden sind.

The use of the Old Testament by the New Testament – including its christological use – has engaged students of the Bible at least since the time of Jerome.1 In view of the immense erudition expended on it, by some of the best minds in their time, it seems remotely unlikely that anything new remains to be said. A fresh impetus has, however, been given to the subject – which has always been a highly specialized one – by the Dead Sea Scrolls, through the discovery of messianic Testimonies in the Cave 4 material and, more importantly, by the recognition that, hermeneutically, the New Testament belongs to the same tradition.

Claiming that Mark is a Paulinist does not require that he agree with Paul about everything, and plausible reasons can be advanced for a later Paulinist wanting to write the story of the earthly Jesus. Martin Werner's assertion that the agreements between Mark and Paul reflect general early Christian viewpoints is not valid with regard to the theology of the cross, which was a controversial Pauline emphasis and a stress that the later Gospels attenuated in editing Mark. Contrary to Werner, Mark and Paul agree in ascribing Jesus' death to a combination of human and demonic opponents.