In the Qumran scrolls there are two passages that talk about a future figure called Geber (= Man). In this article we relate this figure with the Spirit-Paraclete promised in the farewell discourses in the Gospel of John (14. 15–17, 25–6, 15. 26–7, 16. 7–15) but before discussing such a relationship we place before the reader the contents of the two passages about Geber, so that he may relate them with our subsequent considerations without having to turn to the scrolls or a translation of them.

One of the dilemmas of the Fourth Gospel is that of the form and background of the first 18 verses designated as the Prologue. There has been much discussion with respect to the original form and literary unity of the underlying hymn which is thought to be the foundation of the Prologue.1 Of no less importance has been the debate concerning the Hintergrund of this hymn. Indeed, over the years there has been a variety of suggestions made as to its religious background.2

As we read those parts of Josephus'1 works which coincide with the Apostolic Age (in round figures A.D. 30–70) we encounter a number of references to certain prophetic figures. In the absence of existing descriptive titles we will refer to them as the Jewish Sign Prophets.

En notre temps où l'apologétique ne fait pas recette, il m'avait semblé intéressant de mettre en valeur cette déclaration de la le de Pierre. Quand j'ai proposé le sujet à votre Comité, je n'avais pas encore pris connaissance du remarquable article du Professeur J. Piper sur L'Espérance comme motivation de l'amour en cette lettre, mais j'étais préoccupé par les problèmes d'interprétation soulevés lors du Congrès des Biblistes français, à Orsay près de Paris, en septembre 1979. Située comme un héritage dans les cieux, l'espérance de Pierre nous apparaît bien désincarnée; a la limite elle semble faire bon ménage avec un conservatisme social qui laisse proliférer l'injustice. Pareille espérance est-elle credible pour notre monde actuel, justement sensibilisé aux aspects sociaux de la foi?

One of the most puzzling aspects of our much overworked field of New Testament studies – puzzling particularly at a time when individualism and personal religious experience have become central themes in our culture – is the fact that so little attention has been given to the most obvious, indeed the only clearly accessible instance of a personal religious experience in the New Testament. While some exegetes have shunned psychological contributions almost as if they might somehow impugn the authenticity of the event itself, others have undoubtedly reacted to the excesses of earlier attempts to psychoanalyse Paul's personality. But whatever the justification, the decision to follow a literary path, to the exclusion of the psychological, has meant that exegetes have lost touch with the dynamic, experiential dimension of Paul's conversion and have been forced to isolate it from other facets of his career.

Pour autant que nous le sachions, c'est une lecture insolite que nous proposons des témoignages de Papias produits par Eusèbe de Césarée dans son ‘Histoire ecclésiastique’: lecture toute personnelle des textes, qui se veut de simple bon sens, indépendamment de l'immense littérature qui s'est accumulée au cours des siècles autour de l'evêque de Hiérapolis. En raison de l'antiquité et de l'autorité de ce témoin exceptionnel, les très rares fragments qui nous ont été conservés des ‘Exégèses’ de Papias constituent une pièce capitale du dossier relatif à la formation des évangiles notamment du deuxième; d'autant que la lecture des écrivains ecclésiastiques des premiers siècles laisse apparaître une certaine hésitation quant à la date à laquelle Marc aurait composé le sien. Aussi bien rien ne doit être négligà éclairer une question depuis si longtemps débattue.

I have given this paper the title, ‘Colossians i. 12–20’, but I must say immediately that I am not concerned with the structural problems of Colossians ch. i, namely, whether part of it is a pre-Pauline or pre-Christian hymn, and, if it is, where the quotation of the hymn starts and finishes, and, if it is, whether the author of Colossians has quoted it verbatim, or adapted it by adding phrases to make it bring out the point he wants to make. (There have been many suggestions concerning the form and content of the original hymn and which phrases have been added, but as far as I am aware, no one has entertained the idea that the author omitted words or phrases from the original hymn. Certainly the latter would be impossible to prove, but it is just as possible as the idea of additions.) My concern is with the passage, wherever it begins and ends, within its context in Cobssians. That is the exegete's primary concern, however fascinating speculation concerning original form, content and meaning may be.

Daß die Vokabel παρθένος im ‘Gleichnis von den zehn Jungfrauen’1 die ‘Gespielinnen der Braut’2 bezeichnet, die Brautjungfern also, und daß das Wort ἓλαιον (ebenda) nicht Olivenöl, sondern Butter3 meint, kann kaum noch zweifelhaft sein. Bei παρθένος ergibt sich dies aus dem Kontext und bei ἓλαιον aus der Tatsache, daß man als ‘Brennstoff für die Lampen’4 im Palästina der Tage Jesu hauptsächlich (ranzige) Butter verwendet hat, nicht das wertvollere Olivenöl.5

Daniel's vision of the Son of man (Dan. 7. 2 ff.) is undoubtedly a most important passage for the interpretation of the Gospels and of the ‘Son of man’ sayings of Jesus in particular. In this article however, I will try to answer a number of preliminary questions concerning the identity of the four beasts in this vision that should perhaps be answered before we attempt to solve the problem concerning the enigmatic figure ‘like a son of man’. Why, for instance, does the fourth beast remain anonymous although the other three, weird as they are in appearance, show at least a likeness to known animals: like a lion (v. 4), like a bear (v. 5), like a leopard (v. 6)?

Part of the Syriac textual tradition of Matthew 16. 18c attests the reading mukleē, ‘bars’, instead of πúλαι.1 The word mukleē is transparently loaned from Greek (μοχλóς). What is the exact significance of this interesting textual variant, which surely represents the wording of Tatian's Diatessaron and which may well be even older? One interpretation is that the mukleē are the bars which are part of, or stand for the sluice gates restraining the waters of the deep2.

Assuming that the Last Supper is to be set within a Passover framework, the Passover ritual outlined in Mishnah Pesachim 10. 1–7 is the earliest evidence for reconstructing the order of service followed by Jesus and his disciples. According to the Mishnah the Passover is celebrated as follows: (a) A benediction is said over the first cup. (b) Food seasoned with lettuce is eaten. Unleavened bread, lettuce, and haroseth is brought before the leader. (c) A second cup is mixed. The son asks the father about the meaning of the Passover ritual and his father answers him. (d) The first part of the Hallel (Pss. 113–118) is recited. According to the School of Shammai it is recited up to the end of Psalm 113; according to the School of Hillel it is recited up to the end of Ps. 114. This is followed by the Ge'ullah (a benediction recounting God's redemption of his people out of the hands of the Egyptians). (e) After the third cup is mixed, the benediction over the meal (commonly referred to as the ) is recited. (f) The leader recites the second part of the Hallel over the fourth cup. (g) A benediction over song is recited.

It seems singularly unfortunate that in the twentieth century Matthew's Gospel has so often been studied with more attention being given to the Marcan source than to the Matthean narrative.1 Nowhere is this tendency more evident than in the account of the visit of the women to the tomb of Jesus (Matt. 28. 1; Mark 16. 1–2; cf. Luke 24. 1). A survey of the commentaries on Matthew quickly reveals how pervasive this interest in the Marcan narrative is.2 But while it may well be a reasonable exegetical procedure to compare one Gospel with another, the way in which the perspective described above can also hinder an understanding of Matthew's Gospel is strikingly apparent in M. D. Goulder's treatment of this passage in a recent article in New Testament Studies. Goulder writes:

The motive for the women's visit to the tomb is coherent in Mark. Joseph has rolled Jesus' body in linen, but it is not said that he anointed it: the women come to supply this need – they see where he is laid (xv. 47), and come to anoint him (xvi. 1). Matthew's story is incoherent: he does not mention the ointments throughout, and the women, having sat opposite the tomb (xxvii. 61), come, weakly, to see the tomb (xxviii. 1). On Marcan priority this is easily understood: Matthew has introduced a guard on the tomb, so an anointing venture must seem impossible. But, on Matthaean priority, what would they want to come and see the tomb for at first light?3

When Paul writes about the imparting of the holy Spirit, he normally uses quite ordinary verbs: God gives (δÍωμι, Rom. 5. 5), we receive (λαβάνω, Rom. 8. 15). But in I Cor. 12. 13 he uses an unusual, rather surprising word:

That one holy Spirit was poured out for all of us to drink (NEB).

The Thirty-fifth General Meeting of the Society was held at the University of Toronto, Canada, from 25–29 August 1980, under the Presidency of Professor X. Léon-Dufour. About two hundred and forty members, spouses and guests were present.