Matthew and Luke sometimes write versions of Marcan pericopae in which they make initial changes, only to lapse into the thought or wording of the original. Clear examples are Matt 14.1–12 ∥Mark 6.14–29 (Death of John); Matt 8.1–4 ∥ Mark 1.40–5 (Leper); Matt 12.46–50 ∥ Mark 3.31–5 (Mother and Brothers); Luke 8.4–15 ∥ Mark 4.1–20 (Sower); Luke 5.17–26 ∥ Mark 2.1–12 (Paralytic) and Luke 9.10–17 ∥ Mark 6.30–44 (Five Thousand), all of which make good sense on the theory of Marcan Priority. ‘Fatigue’ may also suggest a solution to the problem of double tradition material: Luke 9.1–6 (cf. Matt 10.5–15, Mission Charge) and Luke 19.11–27 ∥ Matt 25.14–30 (Talents) both make good sense on the theory of Luke’s use of Matthew.

The theme is one that could easily be allowed to develop into a history of the apostolic age. I hope to keep it within reasonable bounds by approaching it in the main from one angle only. Like most of the great figures of the past, Paul is known to us both as a historical and as a legendary figure, and it is my intention in this paper to consider in a small way not only how the real Paul and the legendary Paul illuminate each other, but also how, between them, they cast a measure of light upon an obscure period.

The purpose of this note is to discuss the christological title ‘King of kings and Lord of lords’ in Rev 17. 14. Most commentators have generally understood the title to have its broad background in intertestamental Judaism and the Old Testament. The title is also attested in Babylonian and Egyptian tradition, but such an influence is unlikely here since John usually limits his sphere of reference to the Old Testament and its related literature and traditions. Among the possible above-mentioned references in Judaism and the Old Testament, 1 En 9. 4 bears closest resemblance to Rev 17. 14. The 1 En reference could be in mind, not only because of its similarity of wording, but also because its context concerns eschatological judgment (i.e. of the fallen Watchers), as does that of Rev 17.

Hebrews 1.5-14 has proved difficult to integrate within the author's larger literary project. More recent scholarship has emphasized rightly that the catena centers upon the Son of God's royal enthronement, but the question as to why the author should begin his argument this way has yet to be answered. In this essay I argue that the event which the catena describes, namely the Son's enthronement to the heavenly world, is critical for the entire logic of the author's argument regarding how humanity's salvation is accomplished. The likelihood of this conclusion is bolstered by the rarely recognized inclusio between 1.5-14 and 12.18-29. Finally, I briefly examine four texts which suggest that the author envisions the Son's narrative, particularly his entrance into God's heavenly realm as described in 1.5-14, as a soteriological necessity, and pattern, for humanity.

What can we know about the ‘School of Paul’ if we analyse the letter to the Colossians? This question is divided into three parts: how and why was the letter written, and what theological answers are given? Colossians depends mainly on the oral tradition of Paul. With Paul's words but in new contexts the authors try to overcome the depressed situation of the communities after Paul's death. Like Paul, the authors of Colossians refer to Wisdom traditions, but in a more conservative manner. Their dependence on and independence from Paul's speech and thinking reveal the ‘School of Paul’ as an ongoing context for discussion.

The two-dot-plus-bar ‘distigme-obelos’ symbols in Vaticanus signal added text. Five characteristic features distinguish their obeloi from paragraphoi. Like scribe B's LXX obeloi, all eight distigme-obelos symbols mark the location of added text. A gap at the exact location of a widely recognised, multi-word addition follows every distigme-obelos except one with distinctive downward dipping strokes. The Vaticanus Gospels are so early that they have virtually no high stops, a feature older than even 75. Consequently, they contain none of these additions, but the Vaticanus epistles have high stops throughout and contain their one distigme-obelos-marked addition, 1 Cor 14.34–5. Contemporaneous LXX G has corresponding distigmai.

II Corinthians xii. 1–1O gives us a glimpse into the life of Paul the visionary and the resurgence of interest in transcendental experiences has brought new attention to Paul's experience of the third heaven. Research into drug-induced experiences sheds no greater light on Paul's account but, as might be expected, relating the episode to ‘charismatic’ experiences has proved more fruitful.

Rhoda, the slave maid (παιδισκη) in Acts 12.13–16, has been seen as a classic example of a touch of realism that lends authenticity to Luke's narrative: the vivid and precise detail of her flighty joy presents such a candid snapshot of her individuality and eccentric Christian faith that it could only come from a historical source, perhaps the eyewitness reminiscence of Rhoda herself. While less willing than earlier commentators to accept the description in its final form as factual, more recent scholars still perpetuate the goal of discerning the historical core behind the account and continue to read it as a piece of realistic drama. Many, to be sure, have detected in the scene the presence of other elements, such as comedy and extraordinary suspense, but this idea is downplayed or subordinated as further evidence of realism; a few discount the idea as a modern reading. Nonetheless, a consensus emerges: Rhoda's dramatic function in the narrative is to heighten realism. Some scholars then discover a further theological theme of liberation: Rhoda's genuine, assertive behaviour to speak her mind ‘breaks down’ the oppressive hierarchy between master and slave – revealing Luke's so-called subversion of slavery as a social institution – and the subsequent vindication of Rhoda's speech as trustworthy authenticates and uplifts the Christian witness of women (cf. Gal 3.28).

The route of Paul's first journey between Perga and Pisidian Antioch is still disputed. This article examines the three alternatives proposed by scholars. It explores the geographical and historical evidence for each route, looking especially at the extensive road system that existed in Pamphylia, Pisidia, and south Galatia in the first century. Bible atlases routinely depict one route and the reasons for this choice are discussed. Based on a review of the evidence, a fresh hypothesis for the route of the first journey is suggested.

Will man das Geschehen, von dem Paulus Gal 2. 11 ff., berichtet, und das wir gewöhnlich mit der um möglichste Wertungsfreiheit bemühten Bezeichnung ‘der antiochenische Zwischenfall’ benennen, in seinem Wesen erfassen, dann muß man sich zunächst die Art des einzigen Zeugnisses vergegenwärtigen, das wir über es besitzen. Schon lange ist darauf aufmerksam gemacht worden, ‘daß diese Erzählung eine gelegentliche ist und in einem Zusammen-hang stattfindet, welcher den Erzähler in keiner Weise zu einer vollständigen Mittheilung des Vorganges an sich selbst und in allen seinen Einzelheiten verpflichtet’.1 Und weiter: ‘die Erzählung des Paulus ist ein Ganzes, das zwar eine unvollständige Mittheilung des nur gelegentlich berührten Vorganges, aber in sich selbst wohl geschlossen ist und keine Ergänzung duldet’.2 Paulus will in der Tat in Gal 1 f. nicht über ein Stück Geschichte des Urchristentums informieren, sondern er will mit gezielter Spitze sein Verhältnis zu den Jerusalemer Autoritäten, insbesondere zu Petrus, darlegen. Darauf ist der Bericht über seinen Lebensweg ausgerichtet, er mündet in dem uns beschäftigenden Abschnitt. Paulus will zeigen, daß sein Evangelium und Apostolat zugleich unabhängig von und identisch mit dem der Jerusalemer ist, die vor ihm Apostel waren.3

This article springs in part from a critical consideration of Professor F. L. Cross's I Peter, a Paschal Liturgy (Mowbray, 1954), and is an attempt, first, to define difficulties which seem to me to stand in the way of accepting his thesis, and then to offer an alternative suggestion. But first of all, I must express my gratitude to Dr Cross for the stimulus of his lecture and my admiration for the skill and brilliance with which he handles the material. My only hope is that my own attempts at a solution of the problem of I Peter are advanced with anything like as much modesty as his: for I have no doubt that they will need the more clemency.

While presupposing the widely accepted conclusion that the Gospel of John, like the other Gospels, is generically a bios, this article examines more distinctive features of this Gospel which it shares with ancient historiography: precise topography, precise chronology, selectivity, narrative asides, and claims to eyewitness testimony. In these respects the Gospel of John would have appeared to contemporary readers more like historiography than the Synoptics would. The problem of historiographical representation of speeches is solved differently by John from the way the Synoptics deal with it, but John's method of composing discourses and dialogues conforms to good historiographical practice as well as does that of the Synoptics.

Hebrews is the most accomplished writing in the New Testament. The unknown author's command of the art of rhetoric is universally recognized. He was evidently well educated by the standards of Hellenistic education of the time. His use of Greek is more cultivated than that of Paul, and he makes greater use of rhetorical devices than Luke. Spicq gives an impressive list of the stylistic features and rhetorical devices that are to be found in Hebrews. But every reader can appreciate the fine style and persuasive power of the author's writing.

In 1830 F. C. Baur tried to demonstrate that the early Church was split up into Jewish Christians and Gentile Christians, but more than a hundred years later H. Köster wrote: ‘…a label such as, for example, “Jewish-Christians” is misleading insofar as everyone in the first generation of Christianity was a Jewish-Christian anyway…’. In spite of this observation it still seemed possible to organize a ‘colloque’ on Jewish Christianity and to publish a book with many contributions to this subject. But it cannot be denied that the word ‘Jewish Christian’ poses a problem which we shall study in the present essay. First we shall give a brief survey of the study of Jewish Christianity from F. C. Baur to the present time in order to show the development of the word ‘Jewish Christian’, and with the results of this survey we shall then try to show what can be regarded as belonging to the field of Jewish Christianity at the present moment.