(Library of New Testament Studies) Heikki Raisanen - Jesus, Paul and Torah - Collected Essays-Bloomsbury Academic

library of new testament studies
JESUS, PAUL
AND TORAH
Collected Essays
HEIKKI RÄISÄNEN
Translations from the German

by David E. Orton
JOURNAL FOR THE STUDY OF THE NEW TESTAMENT
SUPPLEMENT SERIES
43
Executive Editor
Stanley E. Porter
Editorial board
Richard Bauckham, David Catchpole, R. Alan Culpepper,
Joanna Dewey, James D.G. Dunn, Robert Fowler, Robert Jewett,
Elizabeth Struthers Malbon, Dan O. Via
JSOT Press
Sheffield
JESUS, PAUL
AND TORAH
Collected Essays
Heikki Raisanen
Translations from the German
by David E. Orton
Journal for the Study of the New Testament

Supplement Series 43
For Paivi
Copyright © 1992 Sheffield Academic Press
Published by JSOT Press

JSOT Press is an imprint of
Sheffield Academic Press Ltd
343 Fulwood Road
Sheffield S10 3BP
England
Typeset by Sheffield Academic Press
British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data
Raisanen, Heikki
Jesus, Paul and Torah: Collected Essays.-
(JSNT Supplement Series, ISSN 0143-5108;
No. 43)
I. Title II. Orton, David E. III. Series
227
EISBN 9781850752370
CONTENTS
Preface 7
Acknowledgments 10
Abbreviations 11
Chapter 1
PAUL'S CALL EXPERIENCE AND HIS LATER VIEW OF THE LAW 15
Chapter 2
THE ' L A W ' OF FAITH AND THE SPIRIT 48
Chapter 3
PAUL'S WORD-PLAY ON vojlioq: A LINGUISTIC STUDY 69
Chapter 4
THE USE OF £7Ci9\)JLl{a AND e7U0D|H£iV IN PAUL 95
Chapter 5
GALATIANS 2.16 AND PAUL'S BREAK WITH JUDAISM 112
Chapter 6
JESUS AND THE FOOD LAWS : REFLECTIONS ON MARK 7.15 127
Chapter 7
THE 'HELLENISTS ': A BRIDGE BETWEEN JESUS AND PAUL? 149
Chapter 8
'RIGHTEOUSNESS BY WORKS': AN EARLY CATHOLIC DOCTRINE? 203
THOUGHTS ON l CLEMENT
Jesus, Paul and Torah
Chapter 9
ZION TORAH AND BIBLICAL THEOLOGY: 225
THOUGHTS ON A TUBINGEN THEORY
Chapter 10
THE LAW AS A THEME OF 'NEW TESTAMENT THEOLOGY' 252
Index of References 278

Index of Authors 283
PREFACE
Of the ten essays collected in this volume, nine were published along
with a few others in 1986 under the title The Torah and Christ
(Helsinki: Finnish Exegetical Society). In that collection, articles
written both in English and in German were reprinted in the original
languages. It has seemed worthwhile to have the substance of the
volume published in one single language, however. I am grateful to
the Sheffield Academic Press for undertaking the work, and to the
Finnish Exegetical Society for permission to do it.
The essays are in one way or another connected with the research
done for Paul and the Law (WUNT, 29; Tubingen: Mohr, 1983)
(American edition: Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1986). It should be
noted that the second edition (Tubingen, 1987) contains a comprehen-
sive new preface (pp. xi-xxxi) in which I discuss the response to the
book and try to clear up some misunderstandings and elaborate some
ideas. Those critics in particular who attribute to me either the notion
that Paul did not know Judaism, or the other one that he is muddle-
headed, or both, should consult the preface.
The present volume widens the horizon beyond Paul's letters and
takes some steps towards an overall view of the place of the law in
early Christianity. A full account is yet to be written.
The first essay, on Paul's call experience, is intended to fill a gap in
Paul and the Law. It is also a reply to the polemical criticisms levelled
at my book by Seyoon Kim (now followed by Giinther Klein). In the
earlier version I also commented on some other reviews; these foot-
notes have now been cut down, as the discussion with reviewers has
been transferred to the second edition of Paul and the Law. A shorter
discussion of Paul's call or conversion is found in NTS 33 (1987),
pp. 404-19.
Chapters 2-4 predate Paul and the Law, although Chapter 3 has
since undergone minor revision. In that book I drew on the results of
these articles, but could not repeat their arguments. The issues dealt
8 Jesus, Paul and Torah
with are crucial for understanding Paul's view of the law.

Chapters 2 and 3 refute the now popular notion that \6\ioq means
Torah in Rom. 3.27 and 8.2; it is consequently wrong to find Paul
speaking of the 'Torah of faith' or the 'Torah of spirit'. Chapter 2
argues that this is wrong exegetically, and Chapter 3 adduces a wealth
of linguistic material which shows that metaphorical uses of vojioq
were common in Paul's time (contrary to some recent claims).
Chapter 4 argues linguistically against Bultmann's 'nomistic' under-
standing of e7ciG"O|x(a as 'zeal for the law', still shared by his ardent
disciples.
Chapter 5 is mainly devoted to a discussion with James Dunn,
arguing—against Dunn—that while Paul is concerned to underline
verbally his continuity with the old covenant, his actual attitude to the
law and the covenant de facto amounts to a break with both.
Chapter 6 on Mk 7.15 (reprinted in a slightly expanded form) ends
up by cautiously casting doubt, on wirkungsgeschichtlich grounds, on
the authenticity of that celebrated verse and, consequently, on the
picture (quite customary until very recently) of Jesus as a radical
critic of the Torah.
If Jesus was no radical in that regard, the question why Paul was
becomes all the more urgent. Somehow the 'Hellenists' around
Stephen are to be invoked to fill in the gap, but what exactly was their
role, or can we really know anything about it? The long essay on the
Hellenists, surely the most important one in the volume, takes up such
questions. Following a suggestion by Gerhard Sellin, I come to modi-
fy the position taken in Paul and the Law, where I overemphasized the
spontaneity of the steps taken by the Hellenists. It now seems to me
that they based their pioneering action on a distinctive theology,
characterized by a spiritualized view of the 'ritual' law. If so, some of
the inconsistencies in Paul's theology may be explained as discrep-
ancies between Paul's earlier view, inherited from Antioch and the
Hellenists, and his later more radical stance.
Chapter 8 on 'Early Catholicism' argues that Clement of Rome was
not such a legalist as he is often made to appear by modern exegetes.
It also calls attention to a crucial heilsgeschichtlich problem: if saving
faith was accessible to an Abraham or a David, what was Christ really
needed for?
Chapter 9 is a critical discussion of the theory about the Torah put
forward by H. Gese and P. Stuhlmacher. If I am on the right track in
Preface 9
this paper (and my findings are confirmed by others who have inde-
pendently worked on the topic at the same time, notably M. Kalusche),
it should have repercussions for the ongoing debate about * biblical
theology' at large.
This is indeed the issue tackled in the last essay which has not been
published before. In the last few years a great deal of my research has
been directed to the theoretical and practical problems of 'New
Testament Theology'. In the essay at hand I discuss the theme of the
law from this perspective which is elaborated in my Beyond New
Testament Theology (London: SCM Press, 1990).
As indicated, some of the essays have been slightly revised. I
completed the manuscript in May 1989 but owing to circumstances
outside of my control publication has been delayed until now. The
translation of the German essays (Chapters 2, 3, 4, 8 and 9) was
carried out by Dr David Orton. My thanks are due to him, and the
staff of Sheffield Academic Press, for a number of other editorial
efforts as well. A grant from the Finnish Academy made it possible
for the translations to be funded.
I wish to reproduce an important feature of the bilingual predeces-
sor of this volume in dedicating it to my daughter Paivi. Living in two
foreign countries in her formative years as a result of her father's
research interests has made a great difference to her life.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
The following essays have appeared previously in the journals and

publications mentioned below. All are reprinted with due permission.
'Paul's Call Experience and his Later View of the Law', in
H. Raisanen, The Torah and Christ (Helsinki: Finnish Exegetical
Society, 1986), pp. 55-92.
'The "Law" of Faith and the Spirit' ('Das "Gesetz" des Glaubens und
des Geistes'), NTS 26 (1979-80), pp. 101-17.
'Paul's Word-Play on vouxx;: A Linguistic Study' CSprachliches zum
Spiel des Paulus mit v6|xoq'), in J. Kiilunen et al. (eds.), Glaube und
Gerechtigkeit: In Memoriam Rafael Gyllenberg (Helsinki: Finnish
Exegetical Society, 1983), pp. 131-54.
'The Use of E7u8\)p.{a and ETUGDUXIV in Paul' ('Zum Gebrauch von
erci&uum und erci9uu£iv bei Paulus'), ST 33 (1979), pp. 85-99.
'Galatians 2.16 and Paul's Break with Judaism', NTS 31 (1985),
pp. 543-53.
'Jesus and the Food Laws: Reflections on Mark 7.15', JSNT 16 (1982),
pp. 79-100.
'The "Hellenists": A Bridge between Jesus and Paul?', in Raisanen,
The Torah and Christ, pp. 242-306.
' "Righteousness by Works": An Early Catholic Doctrine? Thoughts
on 1 Clement' ('"Werkgerechtigkeit": Eine "friihkatholische" Lehre?
Uberlegungen zum 1. Klemensbrief), ST 37 (1983), pp. 79-99.
'Zion Torah and Biblical Theology: Thoughts on a Tubingen Theory'
('Zionstora und biblische Theologie: Zu einer Tiibinger Theorie'), in
Raisanen, The Torah and Christ, pp. 337-65.
ABBREVIATIONS
AGJU Arbeiten zur Geschichte des antiken Judentums und des

Urchristentums
AnBib Analecta biblica
ANR W Aufstieg und Niedergang der romischen Welt
AID Das Alte Testament Deutsch
BDR F. Blass, A. Debrunner and F. Rehkopf, Grammatik des
neutestamentlichen Griechisch
BETL Bibliotheca ephemeridum theologicarum lovaniensium
BEvT Beitrage zur evangelischen Theologie
Bib Biblica
BJRL Bulletin of the John Rylands University Library of Manchester
BJS Brown Judaic Studies
BKAT Biblischer Kommentar: Altes Testament
BNTC Black's New Testament Commentaries
BWANT Beitrage zur Wissenschaft vom Alten und Neuen Testament
BZAW BeiheftezurZAW
CBQ Catholic Biblical Quarterly
CNT Commentaire du Nouveau Testament
EKKNT Evangelisch-Katholischer Kommentar zum Neuen Testament
ETL Ephemerides theologicae lovanienses
EvT Evangelische Theologie
FHG C. Muller (ed.), Fragmenta Historicorum Graecorum
FRLANT Forschungen zur Religion und Literatur des Alten und Neuen
Testaments
HAT Handbuch zum Alten Testamenten
HDR Harvard Dissertations in Religion
HNT Handbuch zum Neuen Testament
HR History of Religions
HTKNT Herders theologischer Kommentar zum Neuen Testament
ICC International Critical Commentary
J AC Jahrbuchfur Antike und Christentum
JBL Journal of Biblical Literature
JEH Journal of Ecclesiastical History
JSNT Journal for the Study of the New Testament
JSNTSup Journal for the Study of the New Testament,

Supplement Series
JTS Journal of Theological Studies
KD Kerygma und Dogma
LCL Loeb Classical Library
MeyerK H.A.W. Meyer (ed.), Kritisch-exegetischer Kommentar iiber
das Neue Testament
MTZ Munchener theologische Zeitschrift
NEB New English Bible
NTAbh Neutestamentliche Abhandlungen
NTD Das Neue Testament Deutsch
NTS New Testament Studies
PG J.-P. Migne (ed.), Patrologia graeca
RGG Die Religion in Geschichte und Gegenwart
RNT Regensburger Neues Testament
RSV Revised Standard Version
SBLDS SBL Dissertation Series
SBT Studies in Biblical Theology
SC Sources chretiennes
SEA Svensk exegetisk drsbok
Sem Semitica
SJT Scottish Journal of Theology
SNT Studien zum Neuen Testament
SNTSMS Society for New Testament Studies Monograph Series
SNTU Studien zum Neuen Testament und seiner Umwelt
ST Studia theologica
Str-B [H. Strack and] P. Billerbeck, Kommentar zum Neuen
Testament aus Talmud und Midrasch
SUNT Studien zur Umwelt des Neuen Testaments
TBu Theologische Bucherei
THKNT Theologischer Handkommentar zum Neuen Testament
ThWNT G. Kittel and G. Friedrich (eds.), Theologisches Worterbuch
zum Neuen Testament
TLZ Theologische Literaturzeitung
TP Theologie und Philosophie
TRE Theologische Realenzyklopddie
TSK Theologische Studien und Kritiken
TU Texte und Untersuchungen
TZ Theologische Zeitschrift
VT Vetus Testamentum
VTSup Vetus Testamentum, Supplements
WMANT Wissenschaftliche Monographien zum Alten und Neuen
Testament
WUNT Wissenschaftliche Untersuchungen zum Neuen Testament
Abbreviations 13
ZKG Zeitschriftfiir Kirchengeschichte

ZN W Zeitschriftfur die neutestamentliche Wissenschaft
ZRGG Zeitschriftfur Religions- und Geistesgeschichte
ZTK Zeitschriftfur Theologie und Kirche
Chapter 1
PAUL'S CALL EXPERIENCE AND HIS LATER VIEW OF THE LAW
There is not the slightest doubt about the immense significance of

Paul's Damascus experience. It changed Paul's life and turned a perse-
cutor into a missionary. Jesus Christ became and remained the centre
of Paul's existence.
It is another question, however, to what extent Paul's theology was
conceived soon after the call experience. Was Paul's peculiar view of
the law as found in Galatians or in Romans an immediate consequence
of his Christophany? That is at least a very common view. 1 Paul's call
experience resulted, it is held, in his immediately making a sharp
contrast between 'works of righteousness' and 'righteousness by faith'.
In his Damascus experience Paul perceived that Christ was the end of
the law and God's judgment 'upon all human accomplishment and
boasting'. 2 It is also commonly held that that experience made Paul
regard the law as a 'spur to sin', from which the death and resurrec-
tion of Christ had liberated believers. 3
In short, there is today, no less than fifty years ago,
the temptation to take the view that Paul was converted to Paulinism—if I
may so phrase it—rather than the much more probable one that his break
with the Jewish law, and the rise of his own peculiar and highly
1. Cf. S. Kim, The Origin of Paul's Gospel (WUNT, 2.4; 2nd edn, 1984),
p. 269 and the literature referred to in p. 269 n. 1; P. Stuhlmacher, Versohnung,
Gesetz und Gerechtigkeit (1981), pp. 89-91; U. Luck, 'Die Bekehrung des Paulus
und das paulinische Evangelium', ZNW 76 (1985), pp. 200-201; C. Dietzfelbinger,
Die Berufung des Paulus als Ursprung seiner Theologie (WMANT, 58; 1985),
pp. 95-147.
2. R. Bultmann, Theology of the New Testament (1951-55), I, p. 188.
3. Kim, Origin, pp. 53, 280-81.
developed system of beliefs, were the product of many years with their
unfolding experiences.1
The common view has not gone totally unchallenged. Some scholars
held that Paul's attitude towards the law developed in a more radical
direction a good deal later during his missionary work. Thus
G. Strecker, following a line of thought represented much earlier by
W. Wrede,2 discerns a substantial shift in Paul's assessment of the law
between the writing of 1 Thessalonians and that of Galatians. During
his early career Paul treated the law more as an 'adiaphoron'. At the
time of his dictating 1 Thessalonians Paul had not yet fully thought
through the problem of the law.3
Starting from the problem posed by the inconsistencies in Paul's
later statements on the law, I came to adumbrate a similar overall
view. In view of the numerous contradictions and other problems I
felt that 'the theory of a theology of the law which was basically
"ready" with Paul's conversion cannot adequately explain the nature
of the extant material'. 4 I suggested that Paul at first adopted that
'somewhat relaxed attitude to the observance of the ritual Torah'
which included 'perhaps even a neglect of circumcision as part of the
missionary strategy' that he met with the Hellenist Christians he perse-
cuted.5 Having since then worked more on the subject of the Hellenists
(see Chapter 7 in the present volume), I would now emphasize that it
was precisely the admission of Gentiles without circumcision that was
probably the most outstanding feature of the Christians persecuted by
Paul. Along with it must have gone a neglect of the 'ritual' Torah, in
practice a neglect of the food laws and (perhaps) of the Sabbath in the
context of the mission. 1 Corinthians 9 shows that as late as the fifties
Paul himself followed this practice, treating the ('ritual') law as an
adiaphoron which he could, but need not, observe. I further suggested
1. M.S. Enslin, The Ethics of Paul (1930), pp. 11-12.

2. W. Wrede, Paulus (2nd edn, 1907), p. 84.
3. G. Strecker, Eschaton und Historie (1979), pp. 230-31 (however, he
refuses to distinguish between the views of the 'Hebrews' and the 'Hellenists',
which can hardly be correct). Cf. recently S. Schulz, 'Der friihe und der spate
Paulus', TZ 41 (1985), pp. 228-36, esp. 230-31.
4. H. Raisanen, Paul and the Law (1983), p. 256.
5. Raisanen, Paul and the Law, pp. 254-55.
1. Paul's Call Experience and his Later View of the Law 17
that Paul's final, more negative view developed in the course of his*
conflicts with 'Judaizing' opponents.1
In a postscript to the second edition of his dissertation "The Origin
of Paul's Gospel' (1984), the Korean scholar Seyoon Kim violently
challenges this reconstruction (pp. 345-58). Kim himself represents a
diametrically opposed view, so much so that he thinks that even the
mystery about the salvation of all Israel (Rom. 11.25-26) was revealed
to Paul at the Damascus road (in an audition?).2 Despite the tone of
several of Kim's remarks (cf. pp. 346-47), some questions raised by
him deserve an answer and give me the opportunity to clarify my
position on some points.3
I grant to Kim (pp. 346, 351-52) that it may not be clear at first
glance whether some passages which I either omitted or discussed
very briefly in my book (notably Gal. 1.1 Iff. and Phil. 3.4ff.) are
compatible with my reconstruction. In what follows I will try to show
that they are.
The Question of Self-Contradictions in Paul

To repeat, my theory of a development in Paul's view of the law is
based on observations concerning numerous self-contradictions (and
other problematic features) in the statements of the apostle. As I
repeatedly stated, the main thing for me was the recognition and anal-
ysis of these 'theological difficulties' of the apostle. I claimed that this
analysis is independent of the plausibility of the hypothesis that Paul's
view developed in his conflict with his 'Judaizing' opponents.4 'It is in
the nature of the matter that any theory purporting to show how Paul
got into the difficulties in which we find him must needs be conjec-
tural.' 5 If my development theory does not do justice to the texts, it
should be discarded. But any theory to be preferred must be able to
account for Paul's enduring theological difficulties with the law.

2. Kim, Origin, pp. 82-99. He asserts that 'Paul's call to the Gentile
apostleship is logically connected with the hardening of Israel' (p. 96)—as if Paul
could have known at that time that Israel was 'hardened'.
3. For a detailed interaction with other critics of my work see my Paul and the
Law (2nd edn, 1987), pp. xi-xxxi.
4. Raisanen, Paul and the Law, pp. 14, 229.
5. Raisanen, Paul and the Law, p. 14.
Kim belittles these difficulties. To him, 'many of the problems

Raisanen sees in Paul's undoubtedly difficult, dialectical theology of
the law appear to be, in fact, problems in his own mind' (p. 346). If
this is correct, then obviously the starting point of my reconstruction
is mistaken and the door is open for the view that Paul's view was
formed at the time of his call experience. Kim believes that
Paul made both negative and positive affirmations about the law in his
letters because in his mind they were not mutually contradictory (as
Raisanen constantly insists) but they were resolved satisfactorily in a
necessary dialectic (p. 356).
But of course I do not 'insist' that any of Paul's affirmations seemed

to be 'mutually contradictory' 'in his mind'! Does anybody ever con-
sciously hold mutually contradictory convictions? The question is not
what Paul could hold together in his mind, but what can be held
together logically.
We should not resort too quickly to the easy declaration that Paul's
thought is 'dialectical' rather than inconsistent. It is quite unfair to
claim that the problems I see in Paul are just problems in my mind. If
that were the case, Kim would have no reason to call Paul's view
'difficult'.1 Even if everything else in my book turned out to be in
error, it would still demonstrate that a vast host of interpreters has
felt, and feels, that there are problems (logical and other) in Paul's
theology of the law. Indeed, more than one scholar has declared that
Paul's theology of the law is just a lot of nonsense, if interpreted in
any of the standard ways rather than in the particular (idiosyncratic)
fashion proposed by the writer in question!2 Few if any of what I have
called contradictions in Paul's view were discovered by me for the
first time (although in some cases it was only afterwards that I found
out that I had predecessors). What makes my book different is, I
believe, the cumulative effect, along with my refusal to accept a
'dialectical' explanation.
1. Kim himself recognizes (Origin, p. 281) that Paul's 'doctrine of the law' is a
'most intricate problem' which is 'far from being transparent'; he also realizes that
Rom. 1.18-3.20 contains a view of the law and justification which appears
'incongruous' with other reasons, given elsewhere by Paul, why justification is not
by works of the law.
2. See my Paul and the Law, pp. 3-4 with n. 29, with reference to
Conzelmann, O'Neill and Bring.
1. Pauls Call Experience and his Later View of the Law 19
What actually is the difference between 'dialectic' and 'contradic-

tion'? Put cynically, it seems that what is called a 'contradiction' in a
rival tradition is labelled 'dialectic' (or 'paradox') when occurring in
the exegete's own tradition.1 Apart from that, how far does one really
get with this distinction when trying to explain Paul's theology?
Suppose that I replace all mentions of 'contradictions' and the like on
Paul's part with 'dialectic'. What difference would that make in the
effort to understand Paul? A person may be capable of combining
incongruous2 points in his own thought. But too much dialectic cannot
be communicated to others. The history of Christian thought shows
that Paul's theology of the law was not adopted, not even by his closest
followers. The poles of the alleged dialectic were so much apart that
they could not be held together; one had to choose either a more radi-
cal (Marcion) or else a more conservative line (the Pastorals) than
Paul's. Paul's supposed dialectic, then, was not capable of being
upheld or even understood. To call Paul's view dialectical is a conven-
ient device to preserve his reputation as a thinker. But in the last ana-
lysis a highly 'dialectical' view is an idiosyncracy which an individual
may cherish but which cannot be communicated to others.
Even if Paul's thought on the law were viewed in terms of
'dialectic', it seems to me too complex to have originated all at once.
Yet my main point is not how this complex view came into being, but
simply that the complexity (for me, inconsistency) is there. I am quite
prepared to contemplate the alternative that my reconstruction is mis-
taken and that Paul did think through the problem of the law right at
the beginning. This would mean that he immediately drew various
law-critical conclusions from his Christophany, discovering, for
example, an intrinsic connection between law and sin. But it would
also mean that when 'thinking through' the issue Paul immediately
reached inconsistent (or extremely dialectical, if you like) results.
Theoretically this is conceivable. But, as I wrote,
Should my analysis of Paul's theological difficulties with the law be on
the right track, then these very inconsistencies indicate that as late as in the
fifties Paul was still looking for arguments for his peculiar view of the
1. I first learnt this in connection with a study on the notion of divine hardening
I in the Bible, Jewish texts and the Koran; see H. Raisanen, The Idea of Divine
Hardening (2nd edn, 1976), esp. pp. 7-9, 13-14, 73, 97-98.
2. Kim's term (Origin, p. 281).
law; and in part, at least, the arguments are palpably tentative. . .One
would imagine that Paul would have found some firmer ground to stand
on if he had reflected on the problem for twenty years!l
Kim replies that 'we should then expect at least in Gal. and Rom. only
the negative comments on the law' (p. 356). But why? What Kim
offers here as an objection to my theory is, in reality, the crucial
objection to a different sort of development theory, namely that
recently put forward by H. Hiibner.2 If one reckons with a consistent
development from one letter to another, then one should expect that
letters representing different phases in that development are internally
consistent.
Thus Hiibner tries to show that Galatians is significantly different
from Romans, but that each letter is internally consistent.3 My theory
presupposes a more complex situation: old and new arguments often
stand side by side in Paul's writings. He develops new arguments, but
this does not result in his discarding all the older ones. If Paul is, even
in the fifties, in search of arguments, then tensions are just what might
be expected. I do not think that this makes a 'fool' of Paul, as Kim
(p. 356) alleges. It only makes him a human being, who suddenly
appears in a movingly human light.4 An analysis of Romans 9-11
would confirm the phenomenon of the coexistence of mutually con-
tradictory arguments within one section of a writing.5 Indeed Paul is
quite capable of putting forward tightly argued, fairly coherent sec-
tions. Problems come to light, however, as one tries to relate these
arguments to each other.6
1. Paul and the Law, p. 256.

2. Das Gesetz bei Paulus (2nd edn, 1980). In a similar vein U. Wilckens, 'Zur
EntwicklungdespaulinischenGesetzesverstandnisses', NTS 28 (1982), pp. 154-90.
3. For some criticisms, see my Paul and the Law, pp. 8-9 with n. 60.
4. Cf. E.P. Sanders, Paul, the Law, and the Jewish People (1983), p. 199.
Instead of speaking of foolishness, I underlined that my reading of Paul need not
'diminish his grandeur as a teacher in his own time and milieu' (p. 15) and that he
was *an original and imaginative thinker' whose letters are 'full of seminal insights
and thought-provoking suggestions' (p. 267), while holding that his intuitions often
excel the rationalizations he contrives in their support (pp. 268-69).
5. See H. Raisanen, 'Romer 9-11: Analyse eines geistigen Ringens', in
ANRW, II.25.4, pp. 2891-939.
6. F. Watson, Paul, Judaism and the Gentiles (SNTSMS, 56; 1986), p. 170,
correctly notes that
If my reconstruction is correct, Kim would expect Paul to make

'only negative affirmations of the law' in Galatians, since he is
'standing right in the midst of a controversy with the Judaizers'
(p. 356). In the light of the above considerations, we need not expect
only that. But in fact Paul does give precisely in Galatians an overall
picture far more negative than that given in any other letter. Thus the
nature of Galatians is in harmony with my view. The same is true of
Philippians, a letter which has nothing positive to say about the law.
Galatians 1.11-17
Let us now turn to the 'call' passages. Kim comments on Gal. 1.1 Iff.
that there 'Paul explicitly says that his gospel of justification sola
gratia and sola fide without works of the law... was received from
the Damascus revelation of Jesus Christ as the Son of God' (p. 352).
But this is more than what Paul really says in the passage at hand, at
least 'explicitly'.
Paul does say that he received the gospel proclaimed by him (v. 11)
through the revelation of Jesus Christ (v. 12). But the issue is pre-
cisely how much theological content can be read into the phrase 'my
gospel'. It seems quite possible, indeed plausible, to take 'my gospel'
in a more limited sense than Kim does; it is the gospel that does not
require circumcision of Gentile converts (nor, by implication, obser-
vance of the ritual Torah).
The main issue at stake in Galatia was circumcision. Neglect of it is
envisaged in the allegation that Paul wishes to 'please men' (1.10).
This leads Paul to state that his gospel is not according to human stan-
dards (v. 11). In the very next chapter Paul tells how he set forth the
gospel proclaimed by him among Gentiles (2.2) before the Jerusalem
leaders (including Peter). As the reference to Titus (2.3) shows, the
issue at stake was circumcision. The acceptance of Paul's 'gospel' by
the 'pillars' became visible in the fact that Titus was not circumcised.
the clear and coherent argument of Rom. 11 is completely at variance with the equally
clear and coherent argument of Rom. 9, not to mention the rest of Romans. Elsewhere
in Romans, it is characteristic of Paul's arguments that while they are reasonably
consistent internally, it is virtually impossible to relate them satisfactorily to one
another. It is, for example, difficult to incorporate Abraham as described in Rom. 4 into
the sketch of salvation-history given in 5.12ff.
Paul defended the 'freedom' detected by the 'false brethren' (probably

in Antioch) before the Jerusalem authorities. The question was
whether anything should be 'added' to what Paul was practising
among Gentiles (v. 6). None of this refers to theological doctrines.1
Paul's gospel, TO exxxyYeîov xf|q aKpoPixmag (v. 7), 2 is, in
Galatians 1-2, the gospel free from circumcision. In that regard it is
something clearly distinct from the Jerusalem gospel, to evayyekiov
It is in this context that the crucial passage 1.13-17 is embedded. As

Strecker points out, according to this text the revelation of Christ
meant two things for Paul: (1) 'a break with a glorious Jewish past of
the persecutor (vv. 13-14)' and (2) 'his call and commission to apos-
tolic proclamation (v. 16)'. Strecker goes on:
but it is striking that Paul does not paraphrase his conversion/call nor his
commissioning as an apostle with the usual terminology of justification;
and this despite the fact that at the time of the composition of the letter to
the Galatians he saw himself confronted by a Judaistic doctrine and tried
to deal with this by elaborating this message of justification—an indication
that the meeting with Christ near Damascus and the origins of the doctrine
of justification are^ to be distinguished in both temporal and material
terms.3
The vision resulted in an awareness of the missionary task among

Gentiles: woe tx>ayyeXi^\ia\ a\>xov ev xoiq eGveaiv (v. 16). Now the
Christians persecuted by Paul were presumably already engaged in
such a mission. Paul's account of the consequences of his call in fact
serves to corroborate the view that the Hellenists' Gentile mission had
begun. The vision caused the obstacles for such a mission to fade away
from Paul's mind.4 Furthermore, the choice of the word 'Ioi)8aia^6<;,
1. Kim (Origin, p. 103) identifies the gospel preached by Paul among the
Gentiles (Gal. 2.2) with 'the gospel of justification through faith alone'. But if this
were the point, Kim would have to conclude that this doctrine was not shared by
those who preached the * gospel of circumcision'.
2. Paul does not, of course, mean that it has a content different from the * gospel
of circumcision'. There is only one * gospel' (1.6-7). But if the Gentiles must receive
it in the different form of the 'gospel of circumcision', the result is * another gospel'
which is not a gospel at all.
3. Strecker, Eschaton, pp. 235-36.
4. Kim (Origin, p. 95) speculates that for his conviction of having been called
to be the Gentiles' apostle, Paul 'must have had from the beginning an understanding
unique in Paul's letters, in v. 13 is significant. The word carries

connotations which hint at those practices which separated Jew from
Gentile. Thus, in 2.14 Cephas's turning back to observance of the
table regulations is called un)8ai£eiv or iou8aiKcoq £f|v. Elsewhere
Paul does not use these derivates from 'IOD8CCIO<;. That he does so
here confirms that in 1.13, too, the emphasis lies on 'particularly
Jewish' practices. In fact, these are mentioned in v. 14 as the
Tcatpiica! 7capa56aei£. Paul made such singular progress in taking
these traditions seriously that, unlike his generation at large, he
undertook to persecute the new community which took the law lightly.
The zeal for the 'traditions of the fathers' does not refer to theological
doctrines. Observance of the law is in focus throughout the passage. It
is no accident that Paul's language recalls that of writers telling the
story of Maccabaean fighters. Once more, circumcision and the other
cherished covenantal customs were at stake.
As a result of his encounter with Christ, then, Paul was forced to
admit that Gentiles could be admitted without circumcision and that
Jewish observance could be relaxed in the context of the mission.
In fact, this is seen by Kim. He speaks of Paul's receiving 'the law-
free gospel'. The attack against Paul's gospel was, according to Kim,
'precisely that it neglected the observance of the law and especially
circumcision' (p. 271). In Kim's opinion this shows that 'long before
the Judaizing trouble began in Galatia, he had a gospel which pro-
claimed God's saving act in Christ apart from works of law' (p. 272).
But, as Strecker correctly points out, precisely this sort of language is
lacking in Gal. 1.1 Iff. Kim assumes what he ought to have demon-
strated, identifying the giving up of the demand of circumcision with
a full-blown theology of justification by faith not works.
Kim points out that Paul turned against his former belief and asks,
'Now, is it possible to imagine that Paul, the zealous and successful
about God's will for the Jews such as that which the mystery of Rom. 11.25f.
reveals'. 'Paul's call to the Gentile apostleship is logically connected with the
hardening of Israel' (p. 96). This is a mere postulate; H. Hiibner (Gottes Ich und
Israel [FRLANT, 136; 1984], p. 128) rightly calls it 'highly speculative'. Is
knowledge of God's mysteries a necessary prerequisite for obedience? It is a funda-
mental weakness of Kim's study that he fails to distinguish between the call experi-
ence and Paul's later interpretation of its significance in the light of later experiences.
Kim makes no attempt to deal with the patent tension between Rom. 9 and Rom. 11
which points to an attempt to cope with recent experiences on Paul's part.
Pharisee could have made this turning without thinking through the
problem of the law?' (pp. 272-73).
The answer depends on what 'thinking through' is taken to mean.
Undoubtedly Paul must have given a lot of thought to the question of
the law. He could not have started preaching to Gentiles without
having reflected on the problem. But this does not mean that he could
not have started such work before reaching what came to be his final
view. Anyone can take a decisive step without knowing that some day
he or she will have moved to yet another position.
Paul was not the first Jew to take the step in question. The
'Hellenists', too, must have 'thought through' the problem of the law.1
Yet they did not reach quite the same results as Paul (as Kim admits).
Why, then, did Paul come to individualistic results? His particular
background hardly accounts for that, for according to Acts at least,
the 'Hellenists', too, emerged from Hellenistic synagogues character-
ized by their zeal for the law (Acts 6.9ff.).
Therefore I see no a priori reason why Paul's call experience could
not have resulted in a view of the law which shifted later on.
Moreover, it seems that Paul worked for quite some time as one
Antiochene missionary among others, presumably as a junior partner
of Barnabas. If Gal. 2.15ff. represents the thrust of Paul's argument
in the Antiochene conflict, we should remember that it was in all
probability this incident that caused Paul and Barnabas to part ways. It
follows that up to that time Paul can hardly have set forth a theology
of the law remarkably different from that of Barnabas or the other
Antiochenes—the theological heirs of the 'Hellenists'.2
In the above comments I have simply taken for granted that
Gal. l.llff. faithfully reflects Paul's understanding of his passage. If
the possibility of hindsight3 is recognized, the lack of justification lan-
guage appears even more striking. Kim (pp. 58-59) has, however,
given good reasons for assuming that Paul really was 'conscious of his
call to the Gentile mission from the beginning'. Precisely in the
1. See above. In my earlier attempts to understand the Hellenists I have overem-

phasized the spontaneity of their new step (e.g. Paul and the Law, p. 255).
2. See my Paul and the Law, pp. 253-54.
3. Watson (Paul, Judaism and the Gentiles, p. 30) emphasizes that Gal. 1.16
'cannot be safely used as evidence for Paul's self-understanding at the time of his
conversion*. 'All we know of Paul's conversion is how he chose to understand it in
polemical contexts many years later.'
polemical context of dictating Galatians it was important for Paul that

he did not give a testimony that 'would have received an easy repu-
diation from his opponents'. It would have served no purpose to
'invent' an early awareness of the mission to the Gentiles.
Philippians 3.2-11
The crucial question is, how is one to interpret Paul's talk of
8iK(xioa'6vr| in v. 9? Paul contrasts his own righteousness which
comes from the law with that which comes through faith in Christ.
This contrast between two righteousnesses is traditionally interpreted
as a contrast between two attitudes: righteousness is either based on
man's achievement (justification by works) or it is regarded as a free
gift of God (justification by faith).1 It is usually thought that in his
Pharisaic past Paul shared the 'achievement' ideal. Because of his
Christ-experience, he gave it up and accepted righteousness as gift.
Kim shares the common view. In his opinion, 'Phil. 3.2-9 provides
some important material for our knowledge of the Judaism of the first
century AD'. The passage shows that Judaism taught justification by
works of the law. Paul refers to 'his past attempt to obtain his own
righteousness by works of the law' (p. 353).
Kim's discussion raises two issues which are best examined sepa-
rately: (1) what does Paul mean by his 'own' righteousness in v. 9,
and (2) what is the relationship of v. 9 to Paul's conversion
experience?
The context is as follows. Jewish-Christian missionaries have
intruded Philippi (v. 2). They underline the significance of circumci-
sion. Paul reacts extremely strongly, calling them dogs and pouring
scorn on their zeal for circumcision (KocTCCTOjiri, v. 2). 'We', the
non-observant Christians, are the true 'circumcision' (v. 3). As in
Galatia, the issue at stake is whether Gentile converts should be
circumcised or not. Paul, of course, is strongly against the demand.
To refute the claims of his opponents Paul turns to a rehearsal of
his Pharisaic past (vv. 4-6). He lists his 'fleshly' advantages which
1. See, e.g., G. Friedrich, Der Brief an die Philipper (NTD; 1976), p. 161;
F.W. Beare, The Epistle to the Philippians (BNTC; 1959), p. 106; J. Ernst, Der
Brief an die Philipper (RNT; 1974), p. 98.
were not less than those of his present rivals. The list comprises seven
items, circumcision being named first.
Paul alludes briefly to his conversion which changed everything
(v. 7). 1 Then he gives a short description of his Christian existence
which grew out of his conversion, setting it up as an example to be
imitated by the Philippians (as v. 17 is to make clear). Any contem-
plated advantages that tempt one to rely on 'flesh' are to be regarded
as 'rubbish' in comparison with the union with Christ. Verses 8-11
thus do not directly describe Paul's call experience. They allude to it,
and interpret it as the source of Paul's 'knowing Christ' (f| yv&oxc,
What, then, does Paul mean in v. 9? In view of the question of

'earning salvation' it strikes me that the first four advantages listed in
vv. 5-6 are such as were allotted to Paul without any of his own
doing: circumcision as an infant, Jewish birth, belonging to the tribe
of Benjamin and to the Hebrew race. All this was a consequence of
Paul's having been born into a loyal Jewish family. If you like, it had
befallen him by grace alone. The remaining three items betray the
earnest of his own efforts: regarding the law he was one of the
Pharisaic party; he was zealous enough to persecute the Church; as
regards 'the righteousness according to the law' he was blameless
(a\it\inxoc,). The last word represents sanctification language rather
than soteriological language, as can be seen from Paul's usage in Phil.
2.15 (woe y£VT|a6e a\it\inxox xai dxepaioi, xexva QEOV aîcouxx) or
1 Thess. 3.13 (tic, TO axripiâi i)u5>v xaq KapSiac; a\L&\inTO\>q ev
ayKoawTi); cf. also a\ii\inx(oq in 1 Thess. 2.10. In itself, Phil. 3.5b
does not suggest the image of a pious man trying to obtain eschato-
logical salvation by his efforts, any more than does Luke's description
of Zechariah and Elizabeth as 8iKaioi. ..Tcope-ooîevoi ev naaaxc,
xaiq evxotaxic; m l 8iKaico|xaaw xov leopuro ajieujrcoi (Lk. 1.6).
The picture conveyed is, instead, that of a pious man obediently
fulfilling the duties prescribed by God's law (not by his desire to
show off).
It is v. 6a alone that introduces a different nuance. Paul differs
from a Zechariah or Elizabeth in his fervent zeal which leads him to
persecute those who pose a threat to the inherited values. Paul's zeal
1. The perfect tense trymitti implies that Paul's present state has its origin in a
past event; the aorist ££np,ub&nv likewise refers to the call experience.
differs from the CftkoqQeov ascribed by him to Israel in Rom. 10.2

in that the latter need not include persecuting Christians, but only
rejecting the gospel. Paul portrays himself as one who took his loyalty
to God's law extremely seriously.
In view of all this, there is something strained in the juxtaposition
of the two kinds ofrighteousnessin 3.9. The contrast is not adequately
described with the scheme * achievement versus grace'. Watson
correctly notes,
The way of life summed up in 3.5f. cannot simply be subsumed under the
heading of 'achievement', for obedience to the law is here said to take
place as a response to the privileges given by God to Israel. . . What Paul
renounces according to Phil. 3.7ff. is his whole covenant-status as a Jew,
which includes reliance on the divine gifts bestowed uniquely on Israel as
well as the confirmation of those gifts by his own obedience. On the other
hand, faith in Christ cannot be regarded simply as the renunciation of
achievement. If it is, then Paul is contradicting what he said in
2.12. . .Paul is asserting that both human and divine work are necessary
to bring about salvation.1
One may add that a little later, in Phil. 4.8-9, Paul exhorts his readers
to do (jcpdaaexe) what is appropriate, so that (consecutive KCC{!) 'the
God of peace will be (eaten) with you'.
The step taken by Paul in v. 9 is, then, an extremely bold one. Not
only does he call the covenantal privileges given by God 'flesh' in v. 4
and aK^PaXa in v. 8. In addition, he ends up by calling such right-
eousness as is pursued in obedience to God's covenantal law his own
righteousness which stands in contrast to God's righteousness. The
shift from God-given privileges to fleshly signs of one's 'own' right-
eousness is striking indeed. After all, it was not Paul's (or any other
Jew's) 'own' invention that he should be obedient to the giver of the
law! Paul's own special effort is only visible in his adherence to the
Pharisees and above all in his persecuting activities, and it might have
been logical to ascribe that part of the story to Paul's misguided effort
at righteousness. Paul, however, does not separate this part from the
rest. He disqualifies all the items listed in vv. 4-6 as 'rubbish'.
A provisory answer to my first question is, then, as follows. If
Phil. 3.9 means what it is often taken to mean (e.g. by Kim), the
statement does not quite fit with what precedes it. Either e\ir\ is a
1. Watson, Paul, Judaism and the Gentiles, p. 78 (my emphasis).

misleading choice of word, or else Paul's argument is a massive non

sequitur. What he ought to have concluded after 3.4-8, had he argued
in a straightforward way, is: not having the righteousness connected
with God's covenant with Israel, but the righteousness connected with
the Christ event. The trouble is that Paul cannot force himself to
admit that his actual position implies a rejection of the biblical cove-
nant. A more precise answer is possible when Rom. 9.30-10.13 has
been considered.
Attempting an answer to my second question, we may start by
asking: 'Do vv. 4-8 indicate that Paul realized from the first, right
after his conversion experience, that the covenant privileges men-
tioned in vv. 5-6 were "loss" in the light of the encounter with
Christ?' That is, did Paul realize right at the beginning that what
separated Jew from Gentile was loss, not gain? I find that at least a
serious possibility.
In v. 3 Paul denies the Judaizers the right to appeal to circumcision.
He wrenches circumcision from his opponents and appropriates it for
himself: 'We are the (true) circumcision'. Correspondingly, he begins
the list of his advantages by emphatically putting circumcision at the
top of the list.
Does this reflect something of that reordering of values which Paul
ascribes to his conversion? At least the emphatic place of circumcision
in the discussion, along with the value Paul in this context still ascribes
to the (spiritualized) Tcepixoîfi, fits well with my theory concerning
the theology of the Hellenists. According to this theory, the acceptance
of uncircumcised Gentiles (God-fearers) into the congregation was the
main bone of contention between Paul and those persecuted by him.
The Hellenists interpreted 'ritual' parts of the law in a 'spiritualized'
way, but displayed no hostility towards the law.
Both Galatians 1 and Philippians 3 fit into this picture. The two pas-
sages complement each other. Galatians 1 shows that Paul's call expe-
rience entailed his assurance of being sent to Gentiles. Philippians 3
reveals the other side of the coin: one could only become an apostle to
Gentiles if one gave up the Jewish covenantal privileges—one's pride
in his Jewish origin, zeal for the law and blameless observance of it.
Most concretely, one could only be an apostle to Gentiles if one
dropped the demand of circumcision and other 'ritual' stipulations,
among which the kosher laws were most conspicuous. And yet one
could—and probably had to—esteem 'circumcision' in a spiritualized
sense. Thus there was a clear decision about the law on Paul's part>
but that does not mean that he changed an 'achievement' soteriology to
a 'submission to grace' soteriology.
Kim states to the contrary that in Phil. 3.9, 'Paul, with a language
whose clarity can hardly be improved, grounds the antithesis of
justification by the works of the law and justification through faith in
his conversion experience' (p. 352). But does he really? Does he not,
instead, interpret his call experience in v. 9 in retrospect in terms of
the contrast between the two righteousnesses?
Here a comment by Strecker is helpful. He points out that v. 9
(from |XTI excov onwards) stands out in its context. In it Paul interprets
his call experience in juridical language. Moreover, Strecker finds the
parenthetical nature of Paul's comment instructive.1 Surely the syntax
of the verse is open to different explanations, but Strecker's can
hardly be excluded out of hand. According to him, the passage testifies
that Paul did not originally interpret his call in the language of the
'doctrine' of justification.2 The possibility of hindsight seems greater
in this passage than in Galatians 1.
We have found, then, that v. 9 is (1) formally loosely attached to its
context and (2) summarizes the content of vv. 4-6 in a rather surpris-
ing way. This suggests that it may well contain an idea which was not
yet present in Paul's mind at the time of his call.
Moreover, is it really thinkable that Paul would have used such
extremely strong expressions as OKvfiaXa or Kaxaxoîri immediately
after his call experience? (But if so, then how can he nevertheless at
times speak of circumcision as irenically as he does in Rom. 2.25ff. or
in 1 Cor. 7.19?) Is it not symptomatic that this sort of abusive
language (cf. also Gal. 5.12) crops up precisely in conflict settings?
Clearly Paul's later experience has, to some degree at least, influenced
the way he alludes to his conversion in Philippians 3.
1. The parenthetical character is likewise noted by J. Gnilka, Der PHlipperbrief

(HTKNT; 1968), pp. 192, 194.
2. Strecker, Eschaton, p. 237.
Romans 924-10.13
At this juncture a glance at Romans 9-10 is helpful. According to Kim
(pp. 3-4), even Rom. 10.2-4 reflects Paul's call experience. At least it
is true that the passage contains many parallels to Philippians 3.
Paul starts out in Romans 9 discussing the startling unbelief of the
Jews. He mentions his deep concern for his brethren 'according to the
flesh' who are 'Israelites' (cf. ex yevo-oc; 'Iapaf|A, in Phil. 3.5) and
possess (&v) several privileges. These include the sonship, the glory,
the covenants, the giving of the law, the worship, the promises, the
fathers and the Christ according to the flesh. In Rom. 11.29 Paul
refers to these privileges as 'gifts of grace' (xapia|iaxa) which
testify to God's irrevocable call.
The startling thing in Romans 9 is, however, that Paul immediately
in effect denies his fleshly kinsmen any of the said privileges, in flat
contradiction also to his later presentation in ch. 11. The title
'Israelites' is denied them in 9.6: o\> yap rcavxeq e% 'Iapar|X ouxoi
'Iapaf|X,. The passage 9.6ff. denies the non-Christian Jews the son-
ship, the promises and the fathers. 86%a is denied them in 9.22-23
where they are termed 'vessels of wrath', made for destruction, as
opposed to the vessels of mercy which are prepared in advance 'for
glory' (cf. 2 Cor. 3.7ff.). The giving of the law is at least played
down in 10.4ff. The worship is replaced by the A,OYIKT| Ampeioc in
12.1. The 'covenants' are not explicitly denied here, but precisely that
happens in Gal. 4.21ff.
Thus Paul in effect denies the Jewish covenant with all its privileges
in Rom. 9.6ff.* Those who cling to it display 'zeal for God', but not in
an enlightened way (10.2). Indeed, in 10.3 Paul suggests that clinging
to the God-given privileges amounts to Israel's 'own' (i8ia) righteous-
ness. The adjective thus equals the pronoun a>v in 9.4: that righteous-
ness they possess in their covenant. There is a move similar to what
we discovered in Philippians 3: what are first regarded as God-given
gifts end up by standing on the side opposite to God. Clinging to their
'own' righteousness, the Jews do not submit to God's righteousness.
And this despite what Paul is going to assert in 11.26ff.
From 9.23 onwards Paul explicitly discusses the relation between
1. Hiibner (Gottes Ich, pp. 15ff. [esp. 21-22]) shows that, according to this
passage, God has not called the (unbelieving) Israel of Paul's time.
Jews and Gentiles in God's plans and dealings. The Christians have
been called from both races. There is no 8iaaxoA,f|, indeed everybody
calling the name of the Lord will be saved (10.12-13). From that
point of view, {8(a 8iKaioawTi suggests such righteousness as can
belong to Jews only, leaving Gentiles outside. Thus, giving up the i8(cc
8iKaioao>VTi would result in acknowledging that there is in Christ
righteousness available fora//believers (10.4). The i8(a Sucaioauvr}
of the Jews is that of which Moses writes (10.5), referring to a person
doing what God demands, not to boasting or anything like that. The
8iKcuocri)VT| is open to all, instead, in therighteousnessof faith (10.6).
The passage 9.30-10.13 starts with pointing out a difference
between Gentiles and Jews—the former have not 'sought righteous-
ness', the latter have done so. But Christ as the end of the law removes
the difference.
All this was seen by E.P. Sanders when he defined 'their own right-
eousness' as 'that righteousness which the Jews alone are privileged
to obtain'.1 Kim (p. 354) calls this a 'strange interpretation', for
it seems to make Paul's criticism of the Jews in Rom. 9.30ff.
' incomprehensible'.
Why does he criticize the Jews for seeking thatrighteousnesswhich, as
he himself admits, the Jews alone are privileged to obtain? Furthermore, if
this phrase (sc. 'their own righteousness') means what Sanders alleges,
Paul should then coordinate it with the 'righteousness of God' rather than
contrast it with the latter in Rom. 10.3 and Phil. 3.9, since it is God who
has given Israel the 'privilege' and since it is by keeping the law (i.e.
God's will) that it is to be obtained.
The point is well taken. But it is not a decisive argument against

Sanders's interpretation of i8(a Sncaioawn, for, as we have seen, in
Philippians 3 the same sort of non sequitur occurs. No matter how one
interprets Paul's 'own' righteousness in Phil. 3.9, God's gifts and
demands are called 'rubbish' in the passage. In Romans 9 Paul starts
with accepting the covenant and goes on by (implicitly) rejecting it.
The seemingly unexpected transfer of Israel's 'own' (peculiar)
righteousness from God's side to the opposite side fits this extraordi-
nary picture quite well. In effect, when Paul talks of the righteousness
which the Jews 'are privileged to obtain', he implies that this is not
1. Paul, the Law, and the Jewish People, p. 38, with reference to Gaston
and Howard.
true righteousness, after all.1 He argues from two premises which are
incompatible with each other: (1) God has given Israel his law which
invites the Israelites to a certain kind of righteous life, and (2) this
righteousness is not true righteousness, as it is not based on faith in
Jesus.
In this context, the Gentiles' failure to 'seek righteousness' (9.30)
may well refer to their non-observance of the 'ritual' law.2 Paul hardly
thinks of their (alleged) lack of interest in morality, for clearly he has
Gentile Christians in mind. The phrase xi ox>v kpov\iev (9.30) shows
that Paul takes up a problem which emerges from what he has just writ-
ten. In 9.24ff. it was said of Gentiles that they were not God's people
nor 'beloved' (v. 25). They were not in the condition to fulfil the
Torah, for they had not been called. Now, however, they have been
called (v. 24) to be God's people (v. 25) and beloved (v. 26). Thus
they have 'attained righteousness' (v. 30). The inclusion of the
Gentiles is the main issue.3
Thus Rom. 10.3 seems to pave the way for the statement in Phil.
3.9. 4 There are no direct references to Paul's call experience in
Rom. 9.30-10.13. Instead, Philippians 3, a passage that does hint at
that experience, takes up the language of Romans 9-10. It is not
unnatural to understand Phil. 3.9 as a secondary interpretation of the
significance of the call experience in the light of a contrast which had
developed later. In Phil. 3.9 the i5(a of Rom. 10.3 has been given an
'individualizing' turn which has then, understandably enough, misled
Paul's interpreters, causing them to read the verse in terms of the
supposed contrast between 'achievement' and 'grace'.
Paul is, in the context of Philippians 3, thinking of his particular
zeal for the law. The law in itself distinguished Jew from Gentile (this
is the point of Rom. 9-10); but Paul's extraordinary zeal for the law
set him apart from his average kinsmen as well. Thus the shift of
emphasis from i8(a to k\ri\ is understandable. Paul focuses in Phil. 3.9
on the eyo) \iaXXjov of Phil. 3.4.
1. Sanders, Paul, the Law and the Jewish People > pp. 42, 45.
2. Cf. U. Wilckens, Der Brief an die Romer (EKKNT; 1980), II, p. 211:
' . .. worum es bei diesem Lauf geht, ist die Halacha. . . '
3. For my exegesis of Rom. 9.30ff., see Paul and the Law, pp. 174-75.
4. Assuming that Phil. 3 is later. If it is not, all one can say is that the two
passages shed light on each other.
Paul and Jewish 'Soteriology'

My reluctance to take Phil. 3.9 as a straightforward reference to the
sort of * soteriology' Paul shared earlier but then gave up stems partly
from my understanding of Jewish * soteriology'. Kim is quite right in
noting that, but I do not see why my understanding should be called a
'dogmatic position' (p. 352 n. 180).
The chapter on 'the antithesis between works of law and faith in
Christ' in my Paul and the Law1 was by far the most difficult one to
write. It is, moreover, of less significance for my understanding of
Paul's 'theological difficulties' with the law than are chapters 1-4.
These chapters deal with problems immanent in Paul's view. Chapter
5 tries to isolate a different kind of problem: a problematic
presupposition in Paul's argument. Should I have erred regarding this
problem, my overall argument would have to take only a slightly dif-
ferent shape: in that case Paul changed his normal Jewish view of
salvation into a different kind of soteriology. This 'change of systems'
then led him to think through the nature and purpose of the law. But
he could not go through this process of thought without getting caught
in inconsistencies, contradictions and problematic assertions (above all
regarding the connection between law and sin).
My 'dogmatic' view, about which I do not want to be dogmatic at
all, is, in Kim's words, this: 'the Judaism of Paul's day was not a reli-
gion in which the Jews sought to obtain justification through obser-
vance of the law'. This view Kim takes to be 'a product of sheer
hybris', for I am (in his opinion) claiming that I know 'the Judaism of
Paul's day better than Paul himself (p. 347). But the question is not
one of Paul's knowledge.2 The question is whether Paul, writing in a
conflict setting, does justice to the form of piety he has given up. He
would probably be a unique reformer in religious history if he did
full justice to the surrendered form of life.
Much depends on the meaning of Kim's clause 'to obtain justifi-
cation'. I concur that a Jew of Paul's day did seek righteousness if that
means, in Sanders's by now well known terminology, the staying in
1. Chapter 5, pp. 162-98.

2. I have never attributed to Paul * schlichte Unkenntnis des judischen Glaubens',
as H. Weder alleges ('Gesetz und Sunde: Gedanken zu einem qualitativen Sprung im
Denken des Paulus', NTS 31 [1985], pp. 359, 372 n. 7).
the sphere of salvation (into which one has got in another way). The
law was observed, because it was held to embody God's will. As part
of the larger scheme this observance did have 'soteriological' signifi-
cance. But if Kim's statement means that observance was the ground
of man's salvation, I would now as before register doubt.
It is true that circumcision and observance can be regarded as 'an
essential element of soteriology' (p. 351). This does not mean, how-
ever, that Judaism was a religion of 'justification by works' in the
sense of human-centred legalism. A Jewish boy was circumcised at the
age of eight days: that could not be regarded as a work of his own. He
grew up in a milieu where observance was normal and, therefore, did
not demand an enormous effort from him (although things were
harder in the Diaspora than in Palestine). The will to stay within
Judaism and the covenant was the important thing. Thus, a human
decision and effort was expected of him in the framework of a larger
scheme, in which God's salvific activity was basic. The Christian
scheme was not dissimilar: one had to be baptized and to live in
accordance with one's call. Actually, in Paul's day it was 'Christianity'
(to use an anachronistic term) which demanded a Jew to do something
novel as one had to 'seek' (a new kind of ) righteousness (Gal. 2.17!)
and accept baptism. One had to convert and that required a conscious
human decision.
In Galatia (and Philippi?) the 'Judaizers' wanted to make Gentile
converts fit in to the classical Jewish scheme. They probably did
ascribe 'soteriological' significance to circumcision—that is, soterio-
logical significance in the framework of the larger scheme.1 They may
have pointed out that Abraham the patriarch displayed faith in his
uncircumcised state, but was nevertheless circumcised later on.2 From
the Jewish point of view, the demand for circumcision must be con-
strued as an effort to take God's promises seriously. From a Gentile
point of view the situation may have seemed rather different. A
Gentile could easily have felt circumcision and observance to be a
'work' in the pejorative sense of the word. The apostle to the Gentiles
perceived this. From this Gentile perspective, I submit, he came to
1. In Paul and the Law, p. 260, I may have been too reluctant to speak of
* soteriological' reasons for the demand of circumcision in Galatia.
2. Paul is only able to evade the consequences of Abraham's example by resort-
ing to an ingenious interpretation of his circumcision in Rom. 4.11.
stress that the Judaizers represented indeed a principle of 'works'. 1

This opened the way for contrasting Judaism (including observant
Jewish Christianity) and law-free Christianity in such a manner that
the former appears—whether or not that was Paul's intention—as a
religion of works, and the latter as the religion of grace.
Some scholars deny that Paul intended such a contrast. What he did
intend was to oppose two ways of life: one based on God's ancient
covenant with Israel, the other on the plan he realized in Jesus Christ.2
If this is correct, there is no reason to speak of a distortion of Judaism
by Paul. What he could be criticized of is, from this point of view,
that he did not communicate his message clearly. For undoubtedly
many a reader does get the impression, from a long series of passages,
that the religion Paul first adhered to is based on human efforts as
opposed to his new existence in union with Christ which is based on
faith and grace.3
If one compares the actual relationship between divine grace and
human obedience in Judaism and Pauline Christianity, a different
emphasis, but no absolute contrast, may emerge. Indeed, only a doc-
trine of double predestination could remove all of man's doings com-
pletely form the sphere of soteriology. F. Watson makes the point
sharply. Applying the language of the Reformation to Romans 2, he
claims that there 'it is Judaism which teaches salvation by grace alone,
and Paul who.. .teaches salvation by one's own achievements (i.e. by
obedience to the law)'. 4 And even Romans 4 makes clear that,
1. This is why Paul rejects circumcision and observance in Galatia as 'the

wrong means of salvation' rather than as 'the unnecessary appendix' (cf. Kim,
Origin, p. 351).
2. Sanders, Paul and Palestinian Judaism, pp. 551-52; Paul, the Law, and the
Jewish People, pp. 46-47; cf. Watson, Paul, Judaism and the Gentiles, pp. 63-67,
178-79 and elsewhere. Watson strongly stresses the primarily sociological nature of
the contrast:
For Paul, the term 'works of the law' refers not to morality in general but to the
practice of the law within the Jewish community; and the term 'faith in Jesus Christ'
refers not to a willingness to receive God's grace as a free gift and to renounce reliance
on one's own achievements, but to the Christian confession of Jesus as the Messiah
and the social reorientation which this entails (p. 64).
3. For a list of the relevant passages, see my Paul and the Law, pp. 162-63.
4. Paul, Judaism and the Gentiles, p. 112.
on Paul's view,/aitfi is a human activity which is absolutely necessary for

salvation. This view is especially clear in 4.18ff., where Abraham's faith
is seen as a steadfast and heroic trust in God to fulfil his promises, despite
unfavourable outward circumstances. According to v. 22, it was because
Abraham had this kind of faith that righteousness was reckoned to him.
4.18ff. is thus incompatible with the view that for Paul salvation is by
grace alone. Grace is presupposed here in the form of the promise, but a
strenuous human response, encompassing one's whole life, is required.1
In fact, Kim himself (pp. 288-96) has an interesting and sympathetic

discussion of A. Satake's view2 that 'Paul sees his own salvation in a
close connection with his missionary work, indeed as dependent upon
the latter' (see esp. 1 Cor. 9, 16.23).3
Divine grace and human activity are emphasized both in Judaism
and in Christianity. This is clear enough when one reads Paul's letters
as a whole. It is not clear, however, if one simply fastens onto Paul's
soteriological slogans. A detached observer can, after a thorough
analysis, discover that the contrast between 'works' and 'faith' is, in
Paul's letters, essentially 'a sociological contrast between two ways of
life'. 4 And yet Paul does surround the contrast with emotive overtones
that suggest some deep qualitative difference as well, above all by
limiting all talk of God's grace—with the sole exception of the men-
tion of the %ap\o\iaTa in Rom. 11.29—to the Christian side of the
1. Paul, Judaism and the Gentiles, p. 140 (my emphasis).

2. A. Satake, 'Apostolat und Gnade bei Paulus', NTS 15 (1968-69), pp. 105-
106.
3. For the significance ofrightbehaviour for salvation in Paul, see also my Paul
and the Law, pp. 184-86.
4. Watson, Paul, Judaism and the Gentiles, pp. 178-79 and elsewhere. He
stresses the difference between two patterns of religion which can be labelled
'traditional' and 'conversionist' respectively. Judaism represents the former pattern
which implies a more
static view of the grace of God, typical of a religious community which makes
membership dependent of birth. God's activity is essentially confined to the past
(although it remains of fundamental significance), and the emphasis is on the present
human response of obedience. But a religious community which makes membership
dependent on conversion will tend to have a more dynamic view of the activity of God,
which is now seen as the present experience of salvation.
Pauline Christianity represents the latter type of community. But it is important to

realize that 'although divine grace and human activity are differently conceived in the
two patterns of religion, both elements are present in both of them' (p. 79).
contrast. It is very difficult to avoid the impression that Paul often

speaks as if grace were limited to law-free Christianity.
Nowhere is this clearer than in Romans 4 with its talk of epyoc,
|Liia06g, 6 epyaôîevoc; and 6(p£{^r|jLia. Perhaps one should distin-
guish here more clearly than I—and others— have done between the
'target' of Paul's argument (he argues 'against privileged status')1 and
the way he actually conducts his argument (alluding to a 'by works'
soteriology on the part of the Jews and Judaizers). The latter aspect is
too prominent to be totally excluded.2 For this reason I have spoken
of Paul's (unconscious) 3 distortion of the Jewish (and Jewish
Christian) stance.
In the above considerations I have talked about 'Judaism' as a
whole, without making distinctions. This, of course, is an oversim-
plification; there was a great deal of diversity in 'Judaism' in Paul's
time. It should be made absolutely clear that my position allows for a
great deal of variation. There may have been different 'soteriologies',
some of them heavily stressing man's achievements and even his
merits. The point is that the contrast suggested by Paul—whether he
intended it or not—implies that non-Christian Judaism as a whole
seeks to obtain righteousness in a false way. Paul's position does not
allow for exceptions. If it did, what would Christ be needed for? If
only part of Judaism were 'false', then the remedy needed would be a
return to the true values of Judaism, to a true understanding of the
law. But can one really claim that there were no currents of any
significance in the Judaism of Paul's day that grounded their obser-
vance of the law in God's gracious activity?4 That would be a bold
venture. It is, however, absolutely necessary for Kim's position.
The rabbinic evidence may be inconclusive; in any case it is late.
We do, however, have the testimony of the Qumran texts and, say,
Pseudo-Philo, an 'apostle of internalized religion' without a trace of a
'formalistic or legalistic mentality.'5
1. Sanders, Paul, the Law, and the Jewish People, p. 34.

2. In this regard my discussion in Paul and the Law, pp. 171-72, needs to be
complemented, being one-sidedly oriented to the target of Paul's argument alone.
3. Kim {Origin, p. 351) attributes to me the view that Paul deliberately distorted
Judaism. Of course I never intended to suggest that.
4. See my remarks in Paul and the Law, p. 182 n. 102.
5. C. Perrot, 'Introduction litteraire', in Pseudo-Philon: Les Antiquitis
Bibliques (SC, 230; 1976), II, pp. 44-45. Cf. my Paul and the Law, p. 180 n. 92.
Kim alleges that I display an 'overconfidence' which is 'not well-

advised' in Sanders's work on Judaism (p. 348 n. 4). He asserts that
Sanders 'does not take the evidence of the NT at all for the depiction
of first century Judaism and relies instead largely on much later
sources' (p. 347 n. 14). Sanders could reply to the first allegation that
he did take the evidence in Paul into account but read it differently
from Kim. I seem to represent an intermediate position in this regard.
It is simply not true that Sanders's work is based mostly on late
documents. Half of his discussion of the Jewish material is devoted to
the Dead Sea Scrolls, Apocrypha and Pseudepigraphic texts. By any
count, he could not have omitted discussing Rabbinic texts, late though
they are, since the traditional legalist picture of Judaism (shared by
Kim) is based largely on them. Kim refers (pp. 348-49 n. 15) to
J. Neusner's review of Sanders's book, which puts forward some
harsh criticisms of the enterprise.1 Yet the criticisms are mainly
concerned with Sanders's ambitious claim to have brought to light 'the
pattern' of rabbinic religion. For my position it is unimportant
whether 'covenantal nomism' be the crucial pattern of all ancient
Judaism or not; what is important is that this view of man's place in
God's world is there. Actually, in a recent book Sanders himself
designates covenantal nomism as the 'common denominator' between
different forms of Judaism, which is surely realistic.2 Even Neusner,
in the review mentioned by Kim, explicitly admits that Sanders's
thesis of covenantal nomism is 'wholly sound', indeed a 'self-evident'
proposition!3 In a recent article Neusner summarizes the nature of
Jewish piety in the first century with precisely the expression
'covenantal nomism', which he describes as follows:
To state matters simply, the life of Israel in the first century found struc-
ture and meaning in the covenant between God and Israel as contained in
the Torah revealed by God to Moses at Mount Sinai. The piety of Israel,
defined by the Torah, in concrete ways served to carry out the require-
ments of the covenant. This holy life under the Torah has been properly
called 'covenantal nomism', a phrase introduced by E.P. Sanders to state
1. J. Neusner, 'Comparing Judaisms', HR 18 (1978), pp. 177-91. Sanders's

reply should be compared: 'Puzzling Out Rabbinic Judaism', in W.S. Green (ed.),
Approaches to Ancient Judaism (1980), II, pp. 65-79.
2. E.P. Sanders, Jesus and Judaism (1985), p. 336.
3. Neusner, 'Comparing Judaisms', pp. 177, 180.
in two words the complete and encompassing holy way of life and world
view of Israel in its land in the first century (and not then alone).1
It is more than enough for me if I can build on what Neusner and
Sanders agree on!
In view of the internal variety of Judaism I could even grant that
Phil. 3.9 is after all a genuine reflection of Paul's early position. I
could grant that Paul did hold a position that may justly be described
as 'righteousness according to human works' in his Pharisaic past.
Only it would not automatically follow that everybody else did, too!
After all, precisely in Phil. 3.4ff. and still more clearly in Gal.
1.11 ff. does Paul emphasize how extraordinary a person he was in
his zeal for the law! Thus one could grant that Paul actually did
change a soteriology based on works into a different kind of soteri-
ology; that would not, however, change the contention that his way of
contrasting Judaism (his Judaism) with Christianity amounts to a
generalization which is too sweeping for purposes of fair comparison.
Nevertheless, in view of the above considerations, a more complex
interpretation of the situation seems preferable.
Law and Sin

A significant aspect of the difference between Kim's view and mine is
the interpretation of the connection which Paul establishes several
times between law and sin.
Kim thinks that Paul 'experienced a connection between the law and
sin in his conversion9 (p. 346, emphasis added). He claims (p. 345)
that I have rejected his interpretation 'laconically' by just 'declaring'
that 'Paul never indicates anything like that'.2 Yet before rejecting
Kim's interpretation I had given my own reading (and the reasons for
it) of those Pauline passages which do connect law and sin.3 Kim
interprets, instead, the connection between law and sin in Paul's
thought on the basis of an overall view based on other passages. While
this need not be wrong, it seems more fruitful to start from the
obvious passages.
1. J. Neusner, Major Trends in Formative Judaism (BJS, 99; 1985), III,

pp. 31-32.
2. Raisanen, Paul and the Law, p. 144 n. 81.
3. Raisanen, Paul and the Law, pp. 140ff.
Kim notes, quite correctly, that according to my own (standard)

exegesis it was the 'desire to be faithful to the law' that led Paul to
persecute the Hellenist Christians. He asks: 'Then, should we not infer
here that he experienced a connection between the law and sin in his
conversion?' (p. 346). Not necessarily, for Paul does not spell out
such a connection.
Why should Paul have put the blame for his own fanaticism on the
lawl Was it necessary that loyalty to the law should lead to fanati-
cism?1 As far as we know, that was only the sin of some Jews, includ-
ing Paul, the extraordinary Pharisee.
Kim equates Paul's former 'sin' with 'opposing God's will in the
crucified and risen Christ and.. .attacking his witnesses' (p. 280).
Paul has persecuted Christians as apostates from the law. 'Thus he
found out that the law paradoxically leads only to sin and condemna-
tion and not to righteousness and life...' (p. 281, emphasis added).
Kim refers to Gal. 2.19ff., 3.19ff., Rom. 5.20, 7.5 and 8.3. But this is
a startling interpretation. How could xa naQr[\iaxa xcov aîapti&v in
Rom. 7.5 refer to Paul's persecuting activities? Are the rcapaP&ceiq
of Gal. 3.19 or thercapdrcxcoiiaof Rom. 5.20 identical with opposi-
tion to Christ?
The fact is that those passages which explicitly connect the law with
sin do not refer to Paul's call experience. Nowhere does Kim exegete
any of these passages. On the other hand, most of the passages he does
refer to (on p. 345) are irrelevant.
Regarding Rom. 4.5 Kim only asserts that
we can again see his Damascus experience clearly reflected (p. 285).
At the Damascus Christophany he came to know that he had been oppos-
ing to God and therefore that it was he who was ungodly, not the
Christians. . .Thus, from the Damascus experience Paul obtained the
knowledge that God justifies the ungodly (p. 287).
Apart from the reference to Romans 4, this is quite probable. But

there is no hint in the context of Rom. 4.5 (and Kim [p. 357] grants
this) that Paul is here reflecting on that experience. He seems, rather,
to be engaged in a more theoretical enterprise, trying to prove his
case about Abraham from Scripture. No doubt this was a question
1. Fanaticism for a cause is not necessarily a 'fault' of the cause itself. If it

were, would not later persecutions of Jews by Christians prove that the gospel is a
'spur to sin'?
brought to his agenda by his opponents. As I suggested,1 'the

"ungodly" is here one who is not able to produce the "works" in ques-
tion' rather than a zealous legalist. The ao£$r\q of Rom. 4.5 is
Abraham whom Paul—contrary to Jewish tradition—regards as a
sinner who failed to do the works of the law.2 Abraham was not
justified by works, for he had none. This is borne out in 4.6-8 where
justification without works equals forgiveness of sins and iniquities.
Abraham and David, viewed as daePei^, stand for the avoîo<; man,
not for the exceedingly pious one.
Above all, in Romans 4 Paul does not blame the law. He insists that
the law requires works, but he does not say that it therefore leads to
sin. What it does produce is wrath (4.15).
Of Rom. 5.10 (mentioned on p. 345) there is no exegesis in Kim's
book either. That Paul realized in his Damascus experience that he, as
a persecutor, had been an ungodly sinner can be granted. But I not see
why Rom. 5.10 (or 5.6-8) should be taken as a reference to Paul's
particular experience. In any case, the law is not blamed for the fact
that 'we' were sinners when Christ died for us.
The claim that Paul experienced a connection between law and sin
in his conversion is based on very slender evidence. The connection
crops up in passages other than those mentioned by Kim and seems to
be rooted in more theoretical reflection on Paul's part.
The Law as the Cause of Jesus' Death

According to Kim (pp. 274, 357) and quite a few others,3 Paul
realized at the Damascus Christophany that 'God reversed or annulled
the verdict of the law upon Jesus'. This insight, it is held, was of deci-
sive importance to Paul's view of the law. The point is elaborated in a
recent study by C. Dietzfelbinger. In the course of a critique of the
view that 'justification by faith' is a late and secondary doctrine in
Paul (defended by Wrede, Schweitzer, Strecker, Stendahl and Schade),
he comments that these authors
1. Paul and the Law, p. 171 n. 57.

2. U. Wilckens, Der Brief an die Romer (EKKNT; 1978), I, p. 263.
3. P. Stuhlmacher, Versohnung, Gesetz und Gerechtigkeit (1981), pp. 182,
185, 194-96; J.C. Beker, Paul the Apostle (2nd edn, 1984), pp. 185-86, 261;
C. Dietzfelbinger, Die Berufung des Paulus als Ursprung seiner Theologie
(WMANT, 58; 1985), pp. 96ff.; Luck, 'Bekehrung', pp. 200, 202.
do not properly take into account the Damascus event in its determinative
role for Pauline thinking on the law. The Damascus experience, which
taught that the law brought the Kyrios to the cross, that, though it was
believed to be a factor of salvation, it worked as a factor against salvation,
that its task and its history had therefore to be thought through all over
1
a n e w —this experience is not given the attention it deserves.
This critique is based on the presupposition that, according to Paul,

the law was the cause of the crucifixion. To Paul
Jesus was a delinquent who was justly condemned and executed on the
basis of the Torah. . . However, the power which rejects and curses the
son of God cannot possibly be a power for life, an instrument of God. By
what it does to Jesus the Torah has shown itself to be a power which is
itself possessed by the curse.2
Paul's negative statements on the law are thus logically deduced from
the premise mentioned.
Paul, however, does not suggest such a speculative construction as
the background of his statements. It is too rash to conclude that Jesus'
manner of death alone would have conveyed to Paul the Pharisee the
message that Jesus must have been cursed by the law. To be sure, the
statement about 'a hanged man' (Deut. 21.23) was generally applied to
victims of crucifixion in Paul's time. But it was not a standard
Pharisaic doctrine that those crucified must be cursed by God. Too
many Jews, including Pharisees, had been crucified because of their
dedication to the people of Israel, to the temple and the law. A
crucified Messiah was an offence—not, however, because he was
cursed, but because he was weak (1 Cor. 1.22-23).3
'Christ redeemed us from the curse of the law, having become a
curse for us' (Gal. 3.13) is a statement embedded in Paul's argument
against the Judaizers, in which it has a subsidiary place.4 The curse
1. Dietzfelbinger, Die Bemfung des Paulus, p. 115.

2. Dietzfelbinger, Die Berufung des Paulus, p. 96.
3. See the detailed discussion in G. Friedrich, Die Verkundigung des Todes
Jesu im Neuen Testament (1982), pp. 122ff.
4. Sanders, Paul, the Law, and the Jewish People, p. 25; cf. Friedrich,
Verkundigung, p. 130. P. Stuhlmacher objects that the setting of the argument about
Deut. 21.23 in the Galatian conflict does not rule out an early Jerusalemite origin. He
refers to Acts 5.30, 10.39, and concludes that Deut. 21.22-23 was quite early
applied to the death of Christ; already the earliest congregation had to meet the Jewish
allegation that the crucified one was accursed ('Suhne oder Versolinung', in Die
terminology never reappears in Paul's writings; it is difficult to think

of Gal. 3.13 as a reference to the ground and origin of Paul's thought
on the law.1
Paul never says what his interpreters claim: that the law was the
cause of Jesus' death. Dietzfelbinger refers to Paul's supposed histori-
cal knowledge: he must have known about the role of the Jewish
authorities at the death of Jesus (1 Thess. 2.15). Then he might also
have known that the authorities proceeded against Jesus in order to
defend the Torah, appealing to it.2
But could Paul have known that? As a matter of fact, do we know
that much either? Dietzfelbinger shares the common view that Jesus
was openly critical of the law and that this was historically an impor-
tant reason for his death. Severe historical difficulties stand in the way
of that position, however.3 Apart from the late comment in Jn 19.7,
the passion narratives do not represent such a view. The death sen-
tence is connected, instead, with Jesus' confession to his messiahship
(Mk 14.62 par.); his words and symbolic action against the present
temple lurk in the background. Mk 3.6 does establish a connection
between the conflicts between Jesus and the Pharisees (in Galilee!) and
his death, but (1) this is a Markan editorial construction4 and (2) it is
Mine des Neuen Testaments [Festschrift E. Schweizer; 1983], pp. 305-306). Even
if this be granted (although I have some hesitation about taking Luke's allusions to
Deut. 21.22 as a clear testimony on the contents of the earliest preaching) it does not
follow that this use of Deut. 21 would automatically lead to the notion of the abroga-
tion of the law. Certainly there is no hint to that effect in Acts 5.30, 10.39. But if
Paul did get Gal. 3.13 as a ready-made reply to a Jewish charge, the point is that 'the
Christians who developed the argument probably did not themselves reject the law'
(see Sanders, Paul, the Law, and the Jewish People, pp. 25-26). If Paul, before his
conversion, held to the view that, as a victim of crucifixion, Jesus was accursed,
then he must have learnt in his Damascus road experience that this happened for a
divine purpose. The idea of abrogatio leg is does not automatically follow. If,
however, Paul drew that conclusion one would expect him to make the connection
clear in an explicit way. If that argument truly stood behind his rejection of the law,
'he has concealed the fact' (Sanders, Paul, the Law, and the Jewish People, p. 26).
1. Sanders, Paul, the Law, and the Jewish People, pp. 25-26.
2. Dietzfelbinger, Die Berufung des Paulus, pp. 133-34.
3. See Sanders, Jesus and Judaism, pp. 245ff. on Jesus' attitude to the law and
pp. 294ff. on his death.
4. J. Kiilunen, Die Vollmacht im Widerstreit (1985), pp. 227ff.
doubtful whether Jesus is really viewed in the conflict stories in Mark

2-3 as breaking the law itself.
In 1 Thess. 2.15 (if the verse is authentic) Paul draws a parallel
between the fate of the prophets and that of Jesus. There is no hint to
the effect that 'the Jews' killed Jesus in order to defend the Torah.
They certainly did not kill 'the prophets', in Paul's view, for that
reason, and there is no reason to distinguish between the fate of Jesus
and that of the prophets in this traditional ('deuteronomistic') phrase.
Paul does say that Jesus became 'a curse' by suffering death hung
upon a tree, a manner of death explicitly put under a curse in the law
(Deut. 21.22-23). But this does not mean that the law which spells out
the curse also brought the victim under the curse. Jesus 'became'
accursed. In a parallel statement Paul explicitly says that it was God
himself (and thus not the law) who 'made' Jesus 'sin' (aîapxtav...
eTcoiriaev, 2 Cor. 5.21). Elsewhere Paul attributes the crucifixion to
cosmic powers, not to zealous legalists (1 Cor. 2.8); in the final
analysis, God's salvific purpose is to be found behind everything.
Christ took the curse voluntarily upon himself; no doubt the idea
yevoîevoc; \)TCT\KOO(; \i£%p\ Qavdxo-o (Phil. 2.8) is applicable here as
well. After all, here precisely Paul adds the words 9avdxo\) 8e
axcropofi.
It is very difficult to think that Paul would have attributed to Jesus a
critical attitude to the law. Elsewhere in this volume (Chapter 6) I
have argued that he did not know law-critical sayings of the Lord.
Paul states that Jesus was a 'servant of circumcision' (Rom. 15.8),
becoming himself 'under the law' (Gal. 4.4).1 For these reasons I fail
to be convinced by the claim that meditation on Deut. 21.22-23
immediately led Paul to his view of the law as found in his letters.
1. Dietzfelbinger writes {Die Berufung des Paulus, p. 133),

die Tora darum gegen Jesus aufstehen muBte, weil er der Sohn schlechthin ist, der, weil
er Sohn ist, nicht im Streben nach der eigenen Gerechtigkeit gefangen ist (ROm 10,3)
und also von keiner Sunde weiB (2 Kor. 5, 21). Sowie der Sohn unter die Tora gerat
(Gal. 4,4), die den Menschen in das Verlangen nach der eigenen Gerechtigkeit treibt,
war der Konflikt zwischen ihm und der Tora unausweichlich.
If one does not share this speculation about Paul's view of the historical Jesus and
his death, one cannot indeed easily deduce Paul's negative comments on the law
from his call experience.
Conclusion
In the course of this paper I have been bound to discuss three different
questions which are connected to the 'works versus faith' problem.
Depending on how one answers these questions, the significance of
Paul's call experience can be interpreted in a variety of ways. The
questions are as follows.
1. What is the meaning of the contrast Paul sets up between 'works
of law' and 'faith'? Does he intend a contrast between a soteriology
based on achievement and a soteriology based on grace? Or does he
rather intend simply a contrast between law-observant Judaism and
law-free Christianity? The former is the answer given by Kim and
most other exegetes, the latter that by Sanders and Watson.
2. If Paul intended the former contrast (achievement versus grace),
did he in that case give a correct or incorrect picture of Jewish
'soteriology'? The former answer is given by Kim and most others,
while I have joined those who opt for the latter alternative.
The question poses itself differently for those exegetes (notably
Sanders and Watson) who deny that Paul intended an 'achievement
versus grace' contrast. For them, Paul's picture of Judaism is correct.
3. In whatever way one interprets the contrast, the question poses
itself: was the contrast 'ready' with Paul's call experience or did it
develop later?
We thus have a wide spectrum of possibilities:
1. Paul saw Judaism as an 'achievement' religion. This was
a correct assessment. The contrast between Jewish legalism
and Christian religion of grace was ready with Paul's
conversion. This is the view of Kim along with the majority
of interpreters.
2. Paul came to perceive the contrast between Judaism as an
achievement religion and Christianity as a religion of grace,
which is correct. The contrast was not yet clear to him at the
time of his call, but developed gradually. This would,
roughly, seem to be the view of Wrede, Strecker and Schulz.
3. Paul saw no contrast between Judaism and Christianity in
terms of the achievement/grace scheme. He thus assessed
Judaism correctly. The contrast between Jewish covenantal
nomism and Christian 'participationist eschatology' was clear
to him at his call. This would seem to be the view of

Sanders.1 Paul's thought on the purpose of the law was, how-
ever, subject to a process which took place later.2
4. Watson accepts Sanders's view of the nature of the contrast.
As he, however, locates the beginning of the law-free mission
at a later stage of Paul's life, this must imply that Paul was
not yet fully aware of the contrast at the time of his
conversion.
5. My own view combines elements of all these solutions. I
cannot wholly exclude the interpretation that Paul portrayed
Judaism as an 'achievement religion' although that does not
seem to have been his primary aim in the passages that
convey such a picture. Thus my answer to question 1 wavers
between the two alternatives. Paul gives an ambiguous
answer which points in both directions. The answer chosen
by Sanders and Watson might have been truer to Paul's
innermost intentions, but he formulated his argument in a
different way.
Insofar as Paul really portrays Judaism (and observant Jewish
Christianity!) as an 'achievement' religion, this is at least partially
misleading. In this regard I concur with Sanders and Watson, whose
position implies that if Paul portrayed Judaism in the way I (and Kim)
think he did (which they deny), then he was incorrect.
Finally, I submit that the contrast developed later, agreeing in this
regard with Wrede, Strecker and Schulz (and probably Watson).
But even if this last point were wrong, the strong possibility
remains that other distinctive features of Paul's 'theology of the law',
for example his view of the connection between law and sin,
1. Paul, the Law, and the Jewish People, pp. 151-52. Paul's call is 'the source
of the flat opposition between righteousness by law and righteousness by faith'
(p. 152). Yet cf. pp. 164-65 n. 31: the formula 'righteoused by faith' and 'the
arguments which support it' 'could well have originated in the Galatian conflict'.
2. Sanders, Paul, the Law, and the Jewish People, pp. 65ff., esp. the summary
p. 85:
The complexities of Paul's positions on the law, then, are partly to be explained as
reflecting a development of thought which has a momentum toward more and more
negative statements. Paul attempts to reverse the momentum in Romans 7, but other
problems arise.
are due to a later development (thus also Sanders).

This survey should have made clear that the problem is a very
complex one and needs further clarification. On the basis of the above
considerations it seems to me that Galatians 1 and Philippians 3 are
fully compatible with my theory. They do not force one to conclude
that Paul's view was basically ready with his conversion. On the con-
trary, the passages contain some hints that this may not have been so,
although the strongest indications to that effect are to be found else-
where. General considerations about the nature of Paul's theology of
the law and the historical context of his mission suggest that that
theology was not complete with his conversion.
'Athene jumped armed and in full vigour out of the head of Zeus.
Paul's theology was not born that way.'1 The practice was here the
mother of the theory.2 Paul's theological problems were not
definitively solved in a flash right at the beginning of his Christian
career. On the contrary, he continued to grapple with the perennial
and often insoluble dilemma of how to relate new experience to sacred
tradition in ever new ways to the very end of his mission.
1. Wrede, Paulus, p. 79.

2. Wrede, Paulus, p. 84.
Chapter 2
THE 'LAW' OF FAITH AND THE SPIRIT
I
What does Paul mean by the expressions 'law of faith' (Rom. 3.27)
and 'the law of the spirit of life' (Rom. 8.2)? For a long time inter-
preters were almost unanimously agreed that Paul is playing with
words and using the term \6\ioq in a general, figurative or non-literal
sense. 1 In both passages the word does not mean the OT Torah;
rather, it should be rendered as 'rule', 'order', 'norm', 'system' or
'principle'. 2 Such are the main suggestions for translation of the term
in 3.27. An even wider range of suggestions is offered for 8.2.
Besides those already mentioned, suggestions include 'dominion',
'religion', 'power', 'authority', 'aeon', 'sphere', 'regime' and
'pattern'. 3 Some modern English versions (RSV, NEB) translate voîoc;
with 'principle'; the translations are more reserved in respect of 8.2.4
1. For the sake of simplicity in what follows I shall use the term 'literal' for
interpretations which take vouxx; as the Torah, and 'non-literal' for those which do
not. For practical purposes this terminology should be maintained, however debat-
able it might be from the point of view of semantics.
2. E.g. the commentaries of Sanday-Headlam, Lietzmann, Jiilicher, Schlatter,
Dodd, Nygren, Althaus, Michel, Kirk, Kuss, Murray, Knox, Lagrange, Huby,
Leenhardt, Bruce, Black and Kasemann (I shall not give page references to com-
mentaries). For bibliographical data in relation to the works listed, see the bibliogra-
phy in E. Kasemann, An die Romer (HNT, 8a; 3rd edn, 1974), p. vii. To these
should be added H. Schlier, Der Romerbrief (HTKNT, 6; 1977) and the works in
Norwegian by O. Moe, Brevet til Romerne (2nd edn, 1948) and J. Jervell, Gud og
hansfiender (1973) and in Finnish by A.T. Nikolainen, Roomalaiskirje (1975), each
of which gives a non-literal interpretation.
3. 'Dominion', Kirk; 'religion', Barrett; 'power', Murray; 'authority', Sanday-
Headlam; 'regime', Leenhardt; 'pattern', Knox; 'aeon' and 'sphere', A vanDiilmen,
Die Theologie des Gesetzes bei Paulus (1968), p. 120.
4. Only a few of the steadfastly idiomatic translations do without 'law':
2. The 'Law' of Faith and the Spirit 49
'Order of faith' or some similar term means different things for

different scholars. All agree that the choice of the word alludes in
some way to the Torah; there has to be some kind of connection
between Law and 'law'. 1 Here some emphasize the formal similarity
of the order of faith with the Torah—the new order too makes certain
demands on people by requiring faith or obedience.2 Others on the
other hand find the expression vouxx; KIGTEGX; intentionally paradoxi-
cal, even polemical, and thus draw attention to the ^ s i m i l a r i t y
between the two systems. The new order marks at the same time the
end of the old; the 'law' of faith forms the antithesis to the Mosaic
Law.3
The grounds for the non-literal interpretations have been rather
general. Reference is made to Paul's view of the law, which seems to
leave no room for the notion of the 'law of faith', and to the apostle's
usage, in which 'law and faith elsewhere are always in opposition to
one another'. 4 Support could also be sought in the fact that in
Rom. 7.21-25 Paul clearly makes a play on the word vouxx;, using it
in various ways.5 There is no reason in principle why a non-literal
R. Knox and J.B. Phillips render v6jxo<; with 'principle'. The paraphrastic Living
Bible (K. Taylor) has 'power'. The Finnish Uusi Testamentti nykysuomeksi renders
6 vouxx; xox) Tcveujiaxcx; as simply 'the spirit'.
1. It is popular to refer to a 'stylistic parallelism' (Lietzmann on 3.27) between
the two 'laws'.
2. So, e.g., Michel; Lietzmann on 3.27; van Dulmen {Die Theologie des
Gesetzes, pp. 119-20) on 8.2. Zahn went so far as to take vojmx; in the narrow
sense as 'law'—not the OT law, however, but a 'law leading to faith', namely the
gospel. This interpretation really lies somewhere in between literal and non-literal
interpretations.
3. Lagrange, Leenhardt, Kuss, Jervell, Kasemann; U. Luz, Das Geschichtsver-
stdndnis des Paulus (1968), p. 173; R. Gyllenberg, Rechtfertigung und Altes
Testament bei Paulus (1973), p. 20: Paul is indulging in 'a play on words, one
might almost say, with joyful high spirits'. Michel, too, speaks emphatically of a
'polemical formula' (Kampfformel), linking the idea of their formal resemblance with
the notion that in content they are opposites. Others, especially Kasemann and
Gyllenberg, emphasize only the antithesis.
4. Kuss.
5. Alternative analogies for a non-literal usage have also been cited. Kasemann
refers to Rom. 2.14; Sanday-Headlam and Murray refer to Rom. 9.31; neither seems
justified. Bultmann's reference to Gal. 6.2 (Theologie des Neuen Testaments [5th
edn, 1965], p. 260) is better.
interpretation should be objected to on philological grounds.1

Of the antitheses to the expressions interpreted non-literally and
used positively, 'the law of works' of 3.27 is generally taken literally
and identified with the Torah.2 voîoq in 8.2b, however, is most often
taken in the non-literal sense: Paul is speaking of the 'order' of sin and
death (similarly 7.23) in which the unredeemed are trapped.3
Non-literal interpretations held sway uncontested up to the middle
of the present century. Individual exceptions only confirm the rule: in
his theological dictionary H. Cremer took 3.27 to refer to the Torah,4
and K. Barth also interpreted the two passages along these lines.5
Around the middle of the century, however, a new movement to
interpret them literally started to gain ground. In 1949 E. Fuchs pub-
lished an existentialistically conceived exposition of Romans 5-8, in
which he advanced the view that 8.2 speaks of the same divine law as
is the subject of 8.3. Rom. 8.2 shows that in Christ 'the law that had
been confiscated by sin changed ownership'. The law has been 'given
back to its true master and originator', and its original significance has
been rediscovered.6 Fuchs does not provide further exegetical support
for his interpretation. He develops a thesis for an overall interpreta-
tion of Paul's theology of the law, in which 8.2—in reference to the
Torah—plays an important part.7
1. See below, Chapter 3.

2. So, e.g., Lietzmann, Michel, Kasemann; Dodd and Barrett support a non-
literal interpretation. There is little material difference between the two positions,
because in this context 'system of works' also means the OT law.
3. An exception is K. Kertelge, 'Rechtfertigung' bei Paulus (1967), p. 204; but
cf. Bultmann, Theologie des Neuen Testaments, p. 264 (contrast p. 260!).
4. Biblisch-theologisches Worterbuch (4th edn, 1885), s.v. vouxx;.
5. In relation to 3.27 Barth speaks of 'a law fulfilled through the faithfulness of
God' and writes of 8.2: 'God's law meets you no longer as a postulate, but is for
you the norm and clarity of what you actually do'. 'You need no longer fear the law,
because it has entered your life now as the law of the living God, as the natural law
of his deeds which are also being effected in you.'
6. Die Freiheit des Glaubens (1949), p. 85. In a recent essay Fuchs, however,
provides 'the law' with inverted commas and appears to take the expression in a non-
literal sense: 'Der Anteil des Geistes am Glauben des Paulus: Ein Beitrag zum
Verstandnis von Romer 8', ZTK 72 (1975), p. 294.
7. A similar approach is taken by E. Jiingel, Paulus und Jesus (1962), pp. 52,
54-55, 58-59, 61, which is heavily influenced by Fuchs. Jiingel seems also to regard
3.27 and 8.2 as parallel (p. 270). Either incidentally or without special justification a
literal interpretation is supported by the following scholars: F. Neugebauer, In
In the same year, H. Schlier's commentary on Galatians was pub-

lished, in which Rom. 3.27 and 8.2 are viewed alongside Gal. 6.2 and
a whole series of other NT passages (including the Sermon on the
Mount). All these passages are concerned with the 'law of the
messiah', 'a law renewed in principle by Christ': 'the law which Christ
himself fulfilled on our behalf. No further justification is given for
the use of our verses in this overall view.1
What is effectively the exegetical basis for the literal interpretations
was laid down by G. Friedrich in 1954.2 His concern was only with
3.27. Friedrich did not take Rom. 8.2 to refer to the Torah; in typical
fashion he posited a play on words at this point.3 In 3.27, however,
v6|io<; KiGxecoq describes the OT law. The 'law of faith' is the Mosaic
Law, in so far as it witnesses to Christ (cf. 3.21b); enayyeXia in
Romans 4 means basically the same thing.
H.-W. Schmidt went a step further in this direction in 1963,
strangely without mentioning Friedrich. In his commentary he links
3.27 with 8.2.4 The OT law contains both possibilities: it can become
the 'law of sin' or the 'law of the spirit'. It can be interpreted and
experienced as a law of works or of sin and death. But the law
'reveals itself to the Christian in its true nature (7.14)'. 'The law
becomes the v6|io<; nicxecoq, the v6|xo<; 7cvea)(xaxiK6<;. It is removed
as law of works and set up as witness to the truth of Christ (3.21).'
Here, then, our two verses (along with 9.31) are treated together as
important components in constructing Paul's theology of the law .
Schmidt does not, it is true, offer detailed justification for his view.
Christus (1961), p. 92; G. Schunack, Das hermeneutische Problem des Todes

(1967), p. 226; U. Wilckens, 'Was heiBt bei Paulus: "Aus Werken des Gesetzes
wird kein Mensch gerecht?'", in Evangelisch-Katholischer Kommentar, Vorarbeiten
1 (1969), p. 77; idem, Das Neue Testament iibersetzt und kommentiert (1970),
p. 527. Cf. also the rather inconclusive hints in B. Noack, 'Evangeliet om Loven',
in Festskrift til N.H. S0e (1965), pp. 147-49.
1. H. Schlier, Der Brief an die Galater (1949), on 6.2. H.-J. Schoeps (Paulus
[1959], pp. 18, 179) also has a new law of the messiah in view for Rom. 3.27. In
his 1977 commentary on Romans, however, Schlier no longer interprets 3.27 and
8.2 literally.
2. 'Das Gesetz des Glaubens Rom. 3, 27', TZ 10 (1954), pp. 401-17.
I 3. 'Das Gesetz des Glaubens', p. 407. He is followed by C.E.B. Cranfield,
Romans, I (ICC; 1975) in his interpretation of both passages. See also
V.P. Furnish, Theology and Ethics in Paul (1968), p. 160.
4. Besides these two passages, see Schmidt' s commentary on 9.31.
E. Lohse was in fact the first to concern himself with this in an essay
published in 1973. l In his exegesis of 3.27 he simply adopts
Friedrich's findings. Unlike Friedrich, however, he further attempts
to show that 8.2 is also concerned with the Torah. He thus endeavours
to create a synthesis of the views of Friedrich and Fuchs, whom he
also cites. Only in Christ is 'the true significance of the Old Testament
law recognized, so that from now on "freedom from the law as a way
of salvation...is at the same time a freedom to the law as it is in
content a commandment'".2 Lohse's views have been adopted by
F. Hahn,3 who gives somewhat heavier emphasis to the demanding
force of the law: the law of faith, or the law of the spirit, is 'the law
as it comes to make its demands on the person who has been freed
from sin and death'. 'For Paul there is no question of human existence
outside the divine law.'4 It is noticeable that both Lohse and Hahn see
the relevant passages in connection with the expressions evvo|ioq
XpiaxoS (1 Cor. 9.21) and 6 vopxx; xox> Xpioxou (Gal. 6.2) as well
as with the statements on love as the summary of the law—a proce-
dure which Friedrich expressly avoids.5 Statements which Friedrich
calls 'more or less off the cuff (Augenblicksformulierungeri) have
been combined by Lohse and Hahn into a system.
The systematization of Pauline expressions is taken further by
P. von der Osten-Sacken and H. Hiibner.6 While Lohse and Hahn still
speak of Christ as 'the end of the law'—not without important qualifi-
cations,7 it is true—Lohse's student Osten-Sacken, in a somewhat
1. '6 vouxx; XOX> KVEVÔLZOC, i^q ^(nryq: Exegetische Anmerkungen zu

Rom. 8,2', in Neues Testament und christliche Existenz (Festschrift H. Braun;
1973), pp. 279-87.
2. Lohse, '6 vo\ioq\ pp. 286-87.
3. 'Das Gesetzesverstandnis im Romer- und Galaterbrief, ZNW 67 (1976),
pp. 38, 41, 47-49. See also J.S. Vos, Traditionsgeschichtliche Untersuchungen zur
paulinischen Pnewnatologie (1973), p. 122; and already I. Beck, 'Altes und neues
Gesetz', MTZ 15 (1964), pp. 132-40.
4. Hahn, 'Das Gesetzesverstandnis', pp. 49, 48.
5. Lohse, '6 v6|io<;\ pp. 283-84; Hahn, 'Das Gesetzesverstandnis', p. 49
n. 63; contrast Friedrich, 'Das Gesetz des Glaubens', pp. 405-409.
6. P. von der Osten-Sacken, Romer 8 als Beispiel paulinischer Soteriologie
(1975), esp. pp. 226-27, 245-46; H. Hubner, Das Gesetz bei Paulus (1978),
pp.118-29.
7. The qualifications are clearly evident in Hahn, 'Das Gesetzesverstandnis',
p. 50, who speaks of the end of the law, 'in so far as the law of works is
laboured and idiosyncratic study, claims that xeXoq VOJIOD in Rom.

10.4 can only mean * fulfilment of the law' and that salvation consists
'as it always has done in the fulfilment of the law'. 1 vo\ioq nicxecoq
means the OT law, 'in so far as faith corresponds to it'; it is a matter
of Torah that has been brought into effect by faith'.2 Osten-Sacken
thus departs from Friedrich's (and Lohse's) exegesis to the extent that
the function of the law as witness is no longer seen as central but
rather people's right response to it. But this means that 3.27 is no
longer interpreted with reference to 3.21b (as with Friedrich), but in
relation to 8.2 as understood by Fuchs and Lohse. Independently of
Osten-Sacken, Htibner also maintains the view that the 'law of faith'
means 'the right response to the will of God. ..as expressed in the
Torah'; 3 he interprets 8.2 similarly. Rom. 10.4 does not then mean:
'Christ is the end of the Mosaic, law', but simply: 'Christ is the end of
the carnal misuse of the law'.4
The shift from Friedrich's interpretation to that of Osten-Sacken
and Hiibner shows that the understanding of the two verses we are
concerned with can have far-reaching consequences for the under-
standing of Pauline theology. What hitherto passed for playful off-the-
cuff expressions have almost overnight become important dogmatic
statements of principle, which form a bridge between the negative and
the positive statements of the law in Paul, thereby offering a solution
to one of the thorniest problems in Pauline scholarship. In what fol-
lows the new interpretations are subjected to an exegetical exami-
nation. Their validity is essentially dependent on the validity of
Friedrich's case in relation to 3.27 and Lohse's in relation to 8.2; the
process of further development of the theses of these scholars has
contributed little that is new to the individual exegesis of the passages
concerned. It is therefore necessary to deal first and foremost with the
essays of Friedrich and Lohse.
concerned*. Cf. Lohse, '6 vojios', pp. 279, 283.

1. Osten-Sacken, Romer S, pp. 254, 232.
2. Osten-Sacken, Romer 5, p. 245.
3. Httbner, Das Gesetz bei Paulus, pp. 119-20.
4. Hiibner, Das Gesetz bei Paulus, p. 129. Hiibner makes a distinction here
between the theology of Galatians and that of Romans; in the former Christ is really
seen as the end of the Mosaic law, but no longer so in Romans.
II
In his critique of the non-literal interpretations Friedrich first states
that the expression v6|io<; nioxetoq cannot simply be due to 'stylistic
parallelism' (Lietzmann) and used 'for want of a better one'
(Verlegenheitsformulierung). Paul speaks quite 'consciously and
deliberately of the vojioq TUOTEGX;. When he asks, Sioc noiov VO^LOD,
then the answer must contain a statement about a V6|IOQ. . . ' (p. 402).
This is quite right; but it does nothing to resolve the argument.1
Friedrich's objection is irrelevant at least in respect of those scholars
who take v6\ioc, iciaxecoq as an intentionally polemical expression, that
is, designed as a direct opposite to the 'law of works' (though it should
be noted that in the main such interpretations are more recent than
Friedrich's essay). Paul may well have chosen his expressions care-
fully, and nonetheless (or precisely for that reason) used the word
v6[io<; in a non-literal sense.
The second stage in Friedrich's argumentation (pp. 403-404) con-
tributes nothing to his case. He criticizes—with some justification in
fact—some older exegetes (only J.T. Beck, T. Zahn and B. Weiss are
named) who draw a distinction between anarthrous v6\ioq and 6
voîoq with the article and claim that only the latter should be taken in
reference to the Mosaic Law. The non-literal interpretation of V6|LIO<;
2
TUOTECOQ is only very exceptionally built on this untenable distinction.
Friedrich's case is aided very little by his further comprehensive
attempt (pp. 405-409) to show that vo\ioc, KXGTEVM; cannot be
regarded as a specific law for Christians, as Zahn in particular argued.
Again only a small number of the authors who take v6|xo<;
non-literally are affected by this criticism.3
1. It is another question whether Lietzmann really understands the expression

concerned as an 'expression for want of a better one' when he derives it from
stylistic factors.
2. All attempts to make capital of the use or non-use of the article with vouxx;
have been definitively refuted by P. Blaser, Das Gesetz bei Paulus (1941), pp. lOff.
Blaser himself supports a non-literal interpretation of 3.27 (p. 24).
3. It is noticeable that Friedrich refrains from dealing directly with authors (cited
by him) such as Althaus, who neither attach importance to the lack of the article with
vou,o£ nor regard the vou,o<; jcioxecoq as a new law for Christians, but merely
emphasize that 'the new order of salvation. . . bases everything on faith'.
Of greater importance than these arguments is the brief statement

on pp. 404-405:
In the section Rom. 3.19-31 vouo<; occurs 11 or 12 times. As far as
v. 27 \6\ioq is quite definitely the Torah, and in vv. 28-31 also the
Mosaic Law is meant. What would cause Paul suddenly to give vouxx; a
different meaning in v. 27?
This point of view must be taken seriously. But Friedrich himself

admits that the word is used with various meanings in Rom. 7.21-25.
He is also of the opinion that vouog in 8.2 does not mean the Torah,
even though the word is used in precisely this sense both in 7.25 and
8.3—immediately before and immediately after the verse. These
observations make it seem doubtful whether it is legitimate to base the
literal interpretation on this contextual argument. On its own, in any
case, this approach can scarcely bear the weight of the argumentation.1
In a lengthier section Friedrich draws attention to the fact that 'in
spite of all his rejection of the law Paul can in the same breath make
quite positive statements about the law' (p. 410). In Romans 7, for
instance, the link between the law and sin (vv. 7ff.) is followed
immediately by the statement that the law is 'holy, just and good'.2
This is of course quite right, but says little of relevance to the
interpretation of v6|io<; niaxecoq. It is not a question of whether Paul
ever makes positive statements about the law (which is hardly a matter
of debate), but whether this particular concrete case is to be taken in
this way. An analogous case would be the debate as to whether the end
or the purpose of the law is in view in the expression x£Xo<; vo\iov in
Rom. 10.4. Pauline statements can be cited in support of both views;
in the end the exegesis of this particular verse comes down to which
1. Hahn ('Das Gesetzesverstandnis', p. 38) stresses that in 3.21-31 'the

argument is essentially couched in formulaic expressions which are not further
explained here (x©pk vouou, x ^ p k £pYG>v vouxn) and 5 i a jciOTeax;, EK
nioxeax;)', and draws the conclusion: 'One should therefore be careful when seeing
the striking phrase vouxx; jcioieex; as simply a rhetorical counterpart to vouxx; xcov
epycov. . . ' But is it then not the more remarkable that precisely the expression
v6|xo<; Tttoxeax;, unlike those mentioned by Hahn, does not re-occur?
2. Further references are Gal. 4.21ff. and Rom. 10.6, 8 (p. 414); Friedrich
further points out that 'Paul judges the Old Testament cult positively' (p. 412),
which 'refers to the righteousness of faith' (p. 413). Cranfield adds the passage
Rom. 9.31-32.
of the two possibilities is the more natural in this particular context.1

Friedrich draws special attention to Rom. 3.21, which presents us with
the 'double statements of the law' 'in a quite concentrated form'
(p. 410). But this already suggests that the immediate context of 3.27
offers both possibilities of viewing the law, so that no solution can be
expected from these general considerations.
Friedrich stresses (p. 415) that 3.21 reveals the 'dual nature' of the
law. The law has a negative side (it requires works) and a positive
side: 'it also proclaims that one becomes righteous by faith' (3.21b).
Verse 27 refers back to v. 21. The word TCOIOQ in the question in v. 27
does not mean 'which' but 'of what nature' (as in the only other
Pauline instance, 1 Cor. 15.35). 'Paul is therefore not asking which of
various laws excludes boasting, but about the nature of the law. What
is the voîoq like which rules out boasting?' (p. 415).
One may agree with the statement that Paul is asking about 'the
nature' of the v6|xo<;.2 But it certainly does not follow from this that
two different vojioi cannot be envisaged. This might be plausibly seen
in the fact that, in his dictionary, W. Bauer also posits the meaning
'what sort' in our passage, but still does not accept Friedrich's inter-
pretation of the vo\ioq Tuaxeox;.3 Friedrich states: 'In the context of
the argument one cannot really arrive at the view that Paul is here
thinking of various laws which he puts forward for discussion'. But
why not? On what grounds should we exclude the meaning: 'What
must the voîoq look like which—unlike the other vopxx;—rules out
boasting?' What Friedrich gives as his finding is in reality his premise:
'After speaking in v. 21 of the dual character of the law, he must now
say which side, which feature of the law he means'. This is precisely
what requires demonstration, but the reference to noxoq is inadequate
for this. The argument is circular.
1. Cf. Hahn, 'Das Gesetzesverstandnis', p. 50.

2. Cf., however, F. Blass, A. Debrunner and F. Rehkopf, Grammatik des
neutestamentlichen Griechisch (14th edn, 1976), §298.2 n. 3.
3. Despite the reference to 'F. Gerhard' (sic), s.v. vou.o<; 5. The reference is
factually misleading too, since Bauer is in fact representing the point of view of Zahn
('the law of faith' = the gospel). A.T. Robertson (A Grammar of the Greek New
Testament [3rd edn, 1919], p. 740) also takes icou>£ in Rom. 3.27 'in its original
qualitative sense', but takes 7cioteco<; as in apposition to vouxro (p. 498) and vouxx;
therefore non-literally.
In concrete terms Friedrich briefly sets out his thesis that

Rom. 3.27-28 'quite obviously' refers back to vv. 21-22, by pointing
out three correspondences:
(a) X»pk V6\LOX> (21a)—%©pl<; epycov voîoo) (28)
(b) ixccpropo'DnevTi bnb %ox> vo\iox> (21b)—vouxx; Ttiate©^ (27)
(c) 5ia nioxutoc, (22)—motet (28)
It is clear that there are many points of contact between the two state-
ments in vv. 21-22 and 27-28. The similarities to which attention is
drawn in points a and c above are particularly clear. But we cannot
speak of a strict formal parallelism between the statements. The simi-
larities between the two statements noted by Friedrich do not amount
to a proof of his view; the most they can do is to establish a possibility
of interpretation which would have to be verified by means of other
considerations. One may ask, for instance, why VOJIO<; Kicxecoq should
correspond in content precisely to the expression jiapTDpo-oiuivri
hub TO\) VOUOD m i TCQVttpo(pr|Tcov(as it should be completed!) and
not rather to the expression 8ioc 7c{axeco<; in v. 22. Friedrich thus once
again presupposes what must first be demonstrated, that v. 28 offers a
closer parallel to v. 27, and a more natural basis for its exposition
than v. 21.*
According to Friedrich, v. 31 is also written in reference to the
distinction Paul has just made within the law. Paul upholds the law,
1. Cf. the commentary by Luz (Geschichtsverstdndnis, p. 173 n. 143) on the

connection between v. 27 and v. 21:
This would mean that without further explanation Paul renders the entity called vouxx;
in Rom. 3.21 as epyct \6\io\> here, and what is there called vo^cx; K<X! npocfnyccu as
v6\ioq xr\<; (sic) TCCOTEOX; here. Who would have understood this?
Luz continues: 'What kind of genitive would xr[<; (sic) Tciaxeox; be?' This objection,
too, seems telling atfirst.The literal interpretation of vojio<; is also hampered by the
fact that it will scarcely prove possible to determine the genitive relationship
grammatically. But one would be wise not to give too much weight to this formal
argument. The expression vouxx; 8iKaioowr|<; in Rom. 9.31 is not easily classified
in the customary grammatical categories either; but there can be little doubt that the
Torah is meant there ('the law which proclaims righteousness', perhaps; so
Lietzmann and Kasemann—is the genitive really 'qualitative', though, as Kasemann
thinks?). Cf. Turner's general statement: 'The relationship expressed by the genitive
is so vague that it is only by means of the context and wider considerations that it can
be made definitive' ([J.H. Moulton]-N. Turner, A Grammar of New Testament
Greek [1963], III, p. 207).
'by emphasizing the one side of the law that is often overlooked'
(p. 416). Romans 4 also speaks 'of the law in its duality'. 'But Paul
now no longer uses the expression v6|io<; TUOTECGQ, but knayytXia.
Basically the same thing is meant by both terms.' It is difficult to give
credence to these claims. In v. 31 Paul speaks of the law as a unified
whole; at any rate he makes no distinction verbally. Would he, then,
have first (in v. 27) distinguished the two sides of the law termino-
logically, and just a few lines later have given up this nuanced use of
terms—and this in a sentence in which he is expressly dealing with the
question of the place of the law in his theology? That would be rather
strange. But it would be even more puzzling that in ch. 4 he does not
return to the terminology which he used so 'consciously' and 'quite
deliberately' in 3.27. In ch. 4 (vv. 13, 15) v6|io<; appears without any
kind of qualification as a negative entity. How many readers would
have been able to guess that 'the same thing' is meant by enayyeXia
and voîog rciaxecoc;, when voîog and inayyzXia are depicted as
complete opposites in 4.13-14? The following context thus speaks
against Friedrich's interpretation.1
It seems, then, that Friedrich's interpretation is in fact built only
upon two arguments: (1) v6|ioq elsewhere in the context of the verse
under discussion always means the Torah; (2) vv. 27-28 deliberately
refer back to vv. 21-22; in particular voîo^ Kicxtcoq is used with
reference to M.apx\)poi)|ievT| urco xo5 VOIIOD. It has been shown that
these observations are not sufficient to confirm the thesis. But this is
1. In my view Friedrich's interpretation further presupposes that the theme of

vv. 27-31 is precisely the problem of the law, which v. 21 has moved the apostle to
take up. But this is disputed by Friedrich himself (p. 416): v. 31 would be 'a poor
conclusion, because in the preceding verses Paul has not been speaking of his view
of the law but of the righteousness of God'. Verse 31 would then be the link to ch.
4. But in that case how is the reference to v. 27, which Friedrich presupposes in his
exegesis of v. 31, to be understood? Here Friedrich's considerations are unclear, and
they are implicitly corrected by Cranfield, who otherwise follows Friedrich: v. 31 is
'the conclusion of 3.27ff.'. When Paul himself deals directly with the problem of the
law, he formulates the question quite clearly: x( ovv 6 vojxoq; (Gal. 3.19); zi o&v
epo\)u.ev; 6 vouxx; au.apria; (Rom. 7.7). In Rom. 3.27 the subject is given in
other terms: * Where then is the boastingV It is a matter of the special position of the
Jew, which can induce him to boast (cf. 2.17, 23; 3.9). The mention of the v6|xo<;
serves in dealing with this question, and in vv. 29-30 Paul emphasizes that God is
the God of all. It would be strange indeed if in this context (and only here!) Paul
made an extremely important distinction within the law.
not to say that the thesis is necessarily false.

Osten-Sacken bases his argument expressly on Friedrich, who, he
claims, showed convincingly that v6|no<;ftiaxecogrefers to the Torah.1
In the following sentences, however, he distances himself from
Friedrich's interpretation and disputes that v. 27 is 'simply repetition
of v. 21'; rather, the point is that the law 'has been made effective
through faith'. Friedrich's second point is thus in fact largely com-
promised, so that the only one of his arguments that remains is the
reference to the frequency of \6\y,oq in the sense of Torah in the con-
text. For his part, Htibner expressly distances himself from Friedrich's
interpretation, after mentioning the point they have in common.2 The
most recent expositors have no grounds for claiming Friedrich's
authority for their interpretations. They are not based on his analysis
but rather each depends almost exclusively on an overall interpretation
of the Pauline theology of the law.3
To deal fully with Osten-Sacken and Htibner it would therefore be
necessary to undertake an examination of the overall interpretations of
each. The present essay need not, however, burden itself with this.
Here I am concerned only with the exegesis of two passages. Should it
emerge that these passages contain something which decisively con-
tradicts their classification in the particular overall construction, then
it will not be permissible to exegete them forcibly in line with the
overall view.4
In my view there is indeed one point which is a real problem for
1. Osten-Sacken, Romer 6\ p. 245 n. 1.

2. Hubner, Das Gesetz bei Paulus, p. 119.
3. Hubner makes this quite clear:
The expression 'law of works', as was shown in paragraph 3.2 of this investigation,
means quite concretely the Mosaic law of God, to the extent that it has been degraded
and depraved into a means of having to assert oneself before God. But if the reference of
'law of works' is unmistakably to a particular view of the Torah. . . then the
conclusion must be that Paul's answer, 'No, rather through the law of faith' also has
some reference to the Torah (Das Gesetz bei Paulus, p. 118).
In paragraph 3.2 of Hiibner's study, however, the question of the law is not
discussed in detail. Hubner is content to refer to Rom. 13.8-10, 7.12 and 3.27! He
furthermore attaches importance to the fact that according to Rom. 6 the believer, too,
is 'enslaved' to a power, namely righteousness. See Das Gesetz bei Paulus,
pp. llOff., 115-16.
4. Tne fact that these overall designs have noticeable gaps when these passages
are omitted need not concern us here.
the understanding of VOJKX; TUGTEGX; as the OT law 'so far as faith

corresponds to it'. For according to 3.27 the V6|IOQ of faith plays a
very effective role in outlawing boasting. The voô^ is the instrument
by means of which (8 i d ) boasting was outlawed. The verb
eêKX,e{a0T| is in the aorist passive. There can be little doubt that this
passive indicates the action of God. In any case the aorist certainly
indicates that the exclusion of boasting was a unique act.1 This pre-
sents a considerable difficulty for the literal interpretation: how can
the Torah be seen as the means of a once-and-for-all exclusion of
boasting? Osten-Sacken says that the law was made effective by faith.2
The text, then, should speak of what the law has become through faith.
But there is no word of this. Rather, the text deals with what boasting
has become through the law. For his part, Hiibner draws a line
between his position and Friedrich's and states expressly: 'In one case
(i.e. Friedrich's viewpoint) it is a matter of God's activity, but in the
other (i.e. in Hiibner's own interpretation) it is a matter of human
activity, more precisely, that of the believer'.3 So must the believer
and his or her right attitude to the law, as an unnamed agent, underlie
the passive eêKêia&n? In this case, too, the text is not being allowed
to speak—the text views the VOÎOQ not as an object but as a means.
C.E.B. Cranfield has set out the philological findings clearly in his
commentary:
The tense of eêKA.e{a0Ti indicates that the exclusion referred to has been
accomplished once for all. In view of what follows it would seem that the
reference is not simply to the fact that what has been said has demon-
strated the absurdity of all such glorying, but to the exclusion effected by
God Himself (the passive concealing a reference to a divine action),
whether in the sense that God has rendered all such glorying futile and
absurd by what He has done in Christ or—perhaps more probably, in
view of the next few words—in the sense that He has shown it to be futile
and absurd through the OT scriptures.
1. Cf. Sanday-Headlam:
an instance of the 'summarizing' force of the aorist; 'is shut out once for all*, 'by one
decisive act'. St. Paul has his eye rather upon the decisiveness of the act than upon its
continued result.
The usual rendering with 'is excluded' can be rather misunderstood. A more precise
translation, with Michel and Kuss, is 'it was excluded'.
2. Osten-Sacken, Romer 6\ p. 245.
2. The 'law' of Faith and the Spirit 61
Here the only possible alternative is made clear (albeit—in the best
British tradition—with rather exaggerated caution): either Paul means
the Christ event or a divine demonstration through the scriptures. The
believer's attitude does not come into it. Cranfield agrees with
Friedrich, by deciding in favour of the interpretation that God has
excluded boasting once and for all 'in the sense that He has shown it to
be futile and absurd through the OT scriptures'. This understanding
cannot immediately be ruled out. One could cite Gal. 3.8 and 22 in
support. In the former verse it says that 'the scripture' gave (aorist!)
Abraham a promise in advance. The second verse (Gal. 3.22) is even
more important: 'scripture' has locked everything in (ovvEKXexaev)
under sin. Here ypacpfi seems almost personified as 'the executor of
the will of God'.1 The word of 'scripture' is almost identical with the
voice of God himself, as is shown by a comparison with Rom. 11.32.
It will be legitimate, then, to see the statement in Gal. 3.22 as being
made concrete in Rom. 3.9-19.2 The OT florilegium (vv. 10-18)
shows, as Paul is arguing, that all are under sin (v. 9). The aorist in
3.27 could refer to the act of God's once placing these statements 'in
scripture', thereby giving it the ability and duty to incarcerate people
'under sin'.
So a fair amount of support can be adduced for Cranfield's inter-
pretation. One would then have to conclude, however, that 3.27 refers
back to 3.19b-20 in particular; Friedrich's rather vague connection
with 3.21b would have to be abandoned. Friedrich himself speaks only
of the law's function of proclaiming3 and does not note the form of
the predicate, £^£KXe{a0T|, at all. But if one takes the syntax of v. 27
seriously and is reluctant to give up the idea that v6\ioq TCUTTECD^
refers to the Torah, then it seems to me that one is obliged to draw on
Gal. 3.22 as the only passage that would really support the instrumen-
tal character of the Torah in Rom. 3.27. In the light of that passage,
the emphasis would have to be placed on the negative function of the
law, as it is presented in 3.19b-20, instead of stressing the positive
witness of faith. The 'Torah of faith' would then be the OT law, in so
far as it has locked all humanity in under sin, leaving only the
righteousness of faith as the way of salvation. Only such a
1. Schlier, Galaterbrief, ad loc.

2. Cf. M.-J. Lagrange, Epitre aux Galates (4th edn, 1942) and F. Mussner,
Der Galaterbrief (HTKNT; 1974), ad loc.
3. Friedrich, 'Das Gesetz des Glaubens', p. 415.
modification as this could in my view save Friedrich's thesis.

But it is faced with formidable difficulties too. Rom. 3.21 begins a
new section, with the emphatic temporal expression vovi 8e, in fact.
God's new work in Christ is brought powerfully into play in vv. 21-
26. It would be simple enough to link v. 27 with these verses (rather
than with the preceding vv. 19-20). But the most natural way to take it
would be that iÊKkeioQi] refers back to 'a historical event'; perhaps
Paul has the aorist TcpoeGexo (v. 25) in view.1 In any case it must be
something that has just happened. Boasting was not 'just now'
excluded by the Torah, but by what God did in Christ.
In the light of 3.28 too a non-literal interpretation of VOJIOQ
Tciaxecoq seems justified. This 'doctrinal statement' 2 is intended to
justify the idea expressed in v. 27, as the use of yap shows.3 So one
may expect to find in this sentence a reference to the relationship
between the two vopioi of v. 27. If the VO^LOI are interpreted non-lit-
erally, a corresponding term can be found for both in the justifying
sentence:
(a) vouxx; nioxeax; (27) = 8iKaio\)o6ai avGpcorcovrciciei(28)
(b) v6|xo<; TG>V epycov (27) = the opposite of StKcuoSaGai
avGp(07cov xopiq epycov vouxn) (28)
That is, v6|xo<; TCOV epycov = 8iicaio\)G0ai avGpamov e£ epycov
VOÎOD. In the light of v. 28, then, it seems that each VOJIOQ in v. 27
means an 'order', voîoc; KXOTE&C, is the order of salvation, founded
on faith; v6\ioq xcov epycov is the order that was built on works of the
law.4
In all likelihood O. Kuss is right to see the formation of v. 27 in
the following terms:
1. Zahn. Schmidt is no doubt right to note concerning eêicXeioGri: 'through the

Christ-event—aorist!' He has not noticed, however, that this insight undermines his
own interpretation of vouxx; nioxeax; as the Torah.
2. Michel.
3. The commentaries almost unanimously prefer the reading yap to oSv. So,
for instance, Cranfield.
4. I do not of course present this parallelism as a compelling proof. It is only
meant to show that a non-literal interpretation fits the context best. In addition, it
serves to neutralize Friedrich's reference to the parallel between v. 27 and v. 21.
It seems that he [Paul] allows himself to be influenced by the concept
* works of the law' (v. 28), and in a kind of induction mentions the
concept 'law' already in the question.1
Paul is playing with words, and not without a polemical purpose: the
order he calls vouxx; is actually the opposite of the Mosaic Law. In
other contexts Paul of course does speak of the Torah much more
positively. This happens quite suddenly already in 3.31. But the posi-
tion taken in 3.27 is not such a positive one.
Ill
In his comments on Rom. 8.2 Lohse first shows that Paul does not
have an exclusively negative attitude towards the law.2 There is no
question about that. It must still be borne in mind, however, that the
significance of a particular verse cannot be determined by such
general considerations. Lohse then attaches great importance to the
fact that vouoq in Rom. 8.3-4 clearly means the Torah. But no more
can this be at all determinative. So much should be clear from a
glance at the previous section 7.21-25, to which the expression 6
vouoq xfj<; auccpxiaq icai xov Gavaxoi) in 8.2b clearly alludes
(cf. 7.23c). vo\io<; in 7.7-16 clearly means the Torah. But in v. 21 the
word turns up again surprisingly with the new meaning 'rule' or
'compulsion'. In v. 22 the VOJIOQ of God is again Torah; in vv. 23-25
the meaning varies. The use of vouoq in vv. 21-25 may be summa-
rized as follows:
21 vouxx; = rule, compulsion3
22 vouxx; xox> GeoS = the Torah
23a exepoq vouxx; = the sin living in me (v. 17)4 with its aspirations;
vouxx; = direction of the will
23b 6 vouxx; xox> voo<; \LOX> - glad compliance with the law of God;
vouxx; = direction of the will 6
23c 6 vouxx; %T\Q> ajxapxiaq = the vouxx; mentioned in v. 21; vouxx;
= rule, compulsion
1. The term vouxx;, however, should not be called a 'concept'!

2. Rom. 3.21b, 31; 9.31; 13.8-9; Gal. 4.21; 5.14 are cited in support.
3. Sanday-Headlam, Lietzmann, Kasemann; W.G. Kiimmel, Romer 7 und die
Bekehrung des Paulus (1929), p. 61.
4. Kiimmel, Romer 7, p. 62; van Diilmen, Theologie des Gesetzes, p. 117.
5. Lietzmann.
6. Lietzmann.
25b vouxx; 0eo$ = the Torah

25b vouxx; auxxpr{a<; = the enslaving power of sin; vouxx; = power,
control
The term v6|io£ is thus used twice with the meaning of Torah and five
times non-literally (with various nuances).1 In all, the word appears
with three or four different meanings; Paul is really playing games
with his language! Lohse is no doubt right that the choice of the word
is not coincidental. It is clear that Paul's point of departure is an allu-
sion to voux>£ in the sense of Torah, in something like the way set out
by Lohse (pp. 285-86): the outworking of human imprisonment
under the law 'is that one and the same vouxx; is always repeated: not
the good that I want, but the evil comes into effect... ' 2 The choice of
word again has a polemical reference to the most common meaning of
the word vouxx; (Torah). It does not follow from this, however, that
in the final analysis vouxx; in each instance in the passage must mean
the Torah. 3 In 8.2b this usage is taken up: the situation of the
1. Provided that v. 25b is not inauthentic. Cranfield would like to reduce the
variety of interpretations to two. But how can 'the law of my mind' (v. 23b) be iden-
tical with the law of God, since a person uses the former to comply with the latter?
2. I cannot, however, go along with the Bultmannian exegesis, according to which
KatepydêoGai is supposed to mean 'bring into being', and 'good' and 'evil' are sup-
posed to mean 'life' and 'death' (Lohse, '6 vouxx;', p. 286). Compare the critique of
P. Althaus, Paulus und Luther u'ber den Menschen (4th edn, 1963), pp. 47-49.
Lohse's refusal to see 7.14-25 as a description of a person's inner moral conflict evi-
dently helps him in his inclination to identify all the vouxn in vv. 21-25 with the Torah.
3. It is not easy to determine whether Lohse indeed draws this conclusion; at
this point his explanations are somewhat vague. Cf. however Hubner, Das Gesetz
bei Paulus, p. 126. In any case, it will not do to interpret 7.25 as Lohse does:
Paul does not conceive of two essentially different laws. Rather, as this concluding
statement shows, there is only the one law, the Torah. It contains the will of God, and
is therefore vouxx; 0eo\>; but because such an unhealthy bond has developed between sin
and the law, for the unredeemed person the law is always the vouxx; auapxuxt;.
This exegesis assumes that the verse is speaking of the split nature of the law, while
it is only too clear that it is the divided nature of the individual that is presupposed.
The possibility remains, however, that the verse may be a post-Pauline gloss.
Osten-Sacken (Romer 6\ pp. 210-11) claims that in 7.22-23 vouxx; means quite
literally the law. 'The law of my mind' is the law 'in so far as the E g o . . . can assent
to it', while the 'law of sin', identical to the former according to Osten-Sacken, is
'the same law, in so far as the E g o . . . sold under sin, makes use of it' (p. 210).
This interpretation completely overrides the fact that these two vouxn are in active
conflict with one another.
unredeemed person under the law is characterized with the expression

6 VOJIOQ (= rule, compulsion) xfj<; 6c|iapT{(x<; KCCI TOO Gavaxoi).
There can be no difficulty in seeing that as in 3.27 Paul here can have
created ad hoc a positive counterpart to the negative expression, in
this case in the form of 6 vouxx; TOV rcvevjiaToq xfj<; Ccofiq. In the
light of 7.21-25 it is impossible to see as decisive the argument that in
8.2 vouxx; must necessarily have the same meaning as in 8.3-4.
In their exegesis of Rom. 8.2 the representatives of the literal inter-
pretation are even less true to the Pauline wording than in the case of
3.27. The apostle states quite clearly that the vojxo^ of the spirit of
life was the subject of the liberation of the individual from the vojio<;
of sin and death: 6 yap VOUDQ TOC Tcveujiaxoc;.. .f|^£\)6epcoaev
(aorist again!) a e . . . 1 This simple fact is completely obscured in
literal interpretations.2 For Fuchs the v6|xo<; has an emphatically
informative role: the law announces (again) that a person may live.3
The rest of his paraphrases move further and further away from the
Pauline wording. For example: 'We stand anew at the disposal of the
1. Barrett accepts the thinly attested reading which omits each object and thus
classes the predicate verb as a gnomic aorist, which would have to be translated in
the present tense. On this, see Cranfield.
2. Cranfield remarks on the position of vouxx; as subject and draws the correct
conclusion, though with extreme caution: there can 'hardly' be any question of a
literal interpretation; the law appears to be 'a less natural subject of r$,e\)9epcoaev
KXK. than the exercised authority of the Spirit' {Romans, p. 376 n. 2). Before
expressing this judgment, he considers opting for a literal interpretation (n. 1):
One may indeed be tempted. . . to take ev XpioxS 'ITIOOV with TOV Tcveuuaxcx;, and
understand Paul to mean that it is God's law, now established by Christ's work in its
tone and original character and office as 'spiritual' and 'unto life' (taking both %o\>
7cvevp.ato<; and TTJ<; C,<ar\c, as dependent on 6 vouxx;), which has effected the believer's
liberation.
Two things emerge from this considered comment: (a) vouoq's place as subject is to
be taken seriously, (b) The literal exegeses cannot manage without disputed interpre-
tations of the mutual relations of the Greek words. To be sure, Lohse ('6 vojioq',
p. 279) wants to leave open the question whether 'the phrase ev Xpurco) should be
taken with the preceding concepts or with the verb rjXevGepcooev'; but the latter
would make a literal interpretation impossible as soon as the position of vouxx; as
subject is taken into account. (How could the Torah have 'liberated in Christ'?) It is
indicative that Vos (Traditionsgeschichtliche Untersuchungen, p. 123 n. 38) should
want to connect the expression ev Xptax© 'Irjaofi with the whole phrase 6 vouxx;
KzX.y which must be the most unnatural alternative of all.
3. Fuchs, Die Freiheit des Glaubens, p. 85.
power that truly creates life when we believe that in Christ we must
understand "ourselves" anew'.1 Unlike Paul's wording, the subject is
no longer the liberating von.o<; but the self-understanding individual!
Hiibner's exegesis comes close to this, which in this instance too only
speaks of the law ever 'appearing' to a person.2 According to Lohse
Paul uses the word voîoq to describe the 'liberty made possible by the
Spirit'.3 But the apostle does not say this either. If this had been his
meaning, he could have written something like the following:
Xpicnoq 'IT|OO\)<; fê-uOepcoaev qe arco TOU V6|XO-O TT|<; aîapxiac;
m l TOO) Gavaxoi) eiq xov v6|xov xo\> nvz\>\iaxoq xfjc; CcofjQ. But he
did not. The VOJIOQ is and remains the subject of the once-and-for-all
liberating deed.4 A reference to the Torah (to say nothing of its
correct interpretation) is out of the question. A literal interpretation
can only be maintained at the expense of a distortion of the Pauline
syntax.
It seems to me, on the contrary, that 8.4 is correctly interpreted by
Lohse when he writes:5
What was never possible under the law has now become possible: that
among those who belong to Christ, who do not walk according to the
flesh but according to the spirit, the 5iKa(cou.a tov vouxn) is fulfilled
(Rom. 8.4). Where the spirit that brings life is at work, it becomes evident
what God's will is for the law, and what it is intended to achieve: it is
intended to witness to God's holy, righteous and good will, which is
1. Fuchs, Die Freiheit des Glaubens, p. 87.

2. Hiibner (Day Gesetz bei Paulus, pp. 125-26):
The person for whom the nomos is the law of the Spirit, who views the
law. . . existing in the Spirit that gives life, is freed from the perverted law. . . For
the person who 'walks according to the flesh', the law appears and is a power for
condemnation, which brings death. . . But for the person who 'walks according to the
Spirit', that is, according to the real and essential intention of the law, the law appears
and is spiritual and therefore life-giving (emphasis Hubner's).
3. Lohse, *6 V6JIO<;\ p. 279.

4. The only representative of the literal interpretations to take the wording of the
text seriously is Jiingel (Paulus und Jesus, pp. 44-45), who speaks of the 'liberating
law'. He claims to have found a parallel to this surprising expression in Gal. 2.19.
But the difficult expression 8ict vouoi) which occurs there does not form a firm
basis for the interpretation of Rom. 8.2, and it is not surprising that others have not
taken up this reference. The role of the law in Gal. 2.19 is a much more negative one
than that of the vouxx; in Rom. 8.2a.
5. Lohse, *6 v6uo<;\ p. 285.
2. The 'Law* of Faith and the Spirit 67
comprehended and done by those who place their confidence not on the
adp£ but on Christ alone.
All this is quite right. The law is indeed viewed in a different light in
8.4 than so far in 7.1-8.3.1 would not, however, wish to use this as an
argument for a literal interpretation of 8.2.l Nor would I wish to
understand those sentences to be speaking of a rediscovery of the (in
the meantime perverted) sense of the law. The special thing about the
passage 7.7-8.4 is that nothing really happens to the law! There is no
discussion there of its abolition or new interpretation. The power of
sin over a person is relieved by the rule of the Spirit. This change of
regime has the consequence that the person who used not to be able to
fulfil what the law required can now do so charismatically. It is the
position of the person that has changed. The position of the law stays
the same as it was before. (Nor is it stated that the law has now
received life-giving power.) The law has only a subordinate role in
the whole drama. Its only shortcoming—according to this section of
Romans, it should be stressed—was that it was incapable of empower-
ing people to fulfil it.
The passage is not pointed in this direction, however, until 8.4. If
this sentence were absent, one would be quite justified in taking 6.14
and 7.1-6 as a basis for interpreting 7.7-8.3: what is described is the
situation under the law, from which one has been freed. It is precisely
in the chain of word-plays in 7.22-8.2 that a certain devaluation of the
law on account of its impotence is inescapably evident. But everything
changes at 8.4: it is still the will of God that the righteous demands of
the law should be fulfilled, and Christians do indeed fulfil them.
In 8.4 Paul speaks quite a different language compared with shortly
before in 7.1-6. The former verse may not automatically be made the
master key for Paul's theology of the law. This theology is multi-
layered and full of tension; it is not at all uncommon for statements
constructed from quite different points of view to follow one another.
Verse 4 offers no basis for a literal interpretation of v. 2.
Another difficult question is how the various tenets of Paul's theol-
ogy of the law relate to one another. It is beyond the scope of this
essay to treat these in more detail. It has been my concern in this con-
text merely to show that Rom. 3.27 and 8.2 are unable to support the
1. Rom. 8.4 plays a similar role in Lohse's interpretation to that played by 3.21
in Friedrich's.
weight of the theories of Paul's theology of the law that have been
built on them in recent years.
IV
The traditional understanding of the 'law of faith' and 'law of the
Spirit' as a non-literal usage is correct. Paul means God's saving act in
Christ when he speaks of the 'saving order' of faith or of the spirit.
The choice of the word vo\ioq thereby permits a polemical allusion to
the Mosaic Law. The interpretation of Paul's theology of the law
should not be built on the assumption that in Rom. 3.27 or 8.2 the
apostle is speaking of the OT law, taking account of its various
aspects; still less on the assumption that in these verses he is speaking
of different ways of understanding the OT law.
Chapter 3
PAUL'S WORD-PLAY ON vouoq: A LINGUISTIC STUDY
1. The Problem
In his Franz Delitzsch Memorial Lecture, Rafael Gyllenberg1 men-
tions v6|xo<; 'as a well-known example of Paul's use of an important
word with a variety of meanings'. After claiming—among other
things—that v6|io£ in Rom. 7.21, for instance, means * something like
rule, order', he singles out statements such as Rom. 3.27 and 8.2 as
having 'a special use':
"The law of faith' and 'the law of the spirit' are not the 'faith- and spirit-
torah which sets out the demands of faith and the spirit',2 but rhetorical
circumlocutions for faith and spirit; in the first instance Paul is indulging
in a play on words—one might almost say high-spiritedly. It is an essen-
tial of faith that there is no longer any room for glorying. In 7.21-23 also
Paul's enjoyment of word-play is evident, and in 8.2 the word vouxx;
could just as well be omitted, since it contributes nothing to the argument
and has been applied by Paul only for the sake of rhetorical and stylistic
balance. In Gal. 6.2 also vou.o<; is used in a non-literal way; for there is
no such thing as a 'law of Christ'.3
In this lecture—given in 1967 and published in 1973—the Finnish

master could (despite H. Schlier, from whose opinion he distances
himself here) still count on general agreement on the statements
quoted above. The use of vouoq in the Romans passages he cites (the
situation was a little different in the case of Gal. 6.2) was quite com-
monly understood 'non-literally', as rule, order, or principle—
whether one saw in the choice of the word, with Gyllenberg, a
1. The first version of this essay was published in the Memorial Volume for
Rafael Gyllenberg (1893-1982).
2. So H. Schlier, Der Brief an die Galater (4th edn, 1965), p. 178.
3. Rechtfertigung undAltes Testament bei Paulus (1973), p. 20.
polemical nuance1 or rather a more positive parallelization of the new

'order' with the old one.2 G. Friedrich, it is true, had already in 1954
presented the thesis that VOÎOQ in Rom. 3.27 is the Mosaic Law, to the
extent that it bears witness to Christ, but this view had not won
general acceptance.3
The state of scholarship is different today. In 1973 E. Lohse
attempted to show that voîog designates the OT law—now 'for the
first time recognized in its literal sense'—not only in Rom. 3.27 but
also in 8.2.4 More and more scholars have since aligned themselves
with this 'literal' understanding of v6|io<; as Torah in the passages
mentioned, an understanding which has, for P. von der Osten-Sacken
and H. Hiibner in particular, become a pillar for the interpretation of
the whole Pauline theology of the law.5 For Paul, Christ is then not
the end of the Mosaic Law, but only 'the end of the carnal misuse of
the law'.6 The Torah is called VOÎOQ TUGTEGX; to the extent that it is
'seen with the eyes of faith'.7 The understanding of the expressions
concerned then has far-reaching consequences for the understanding
of Pauline theology as a whole.
1. For references see above, p. 49 n. 3. In Gyllenberg's Finnish commentary

on Galatians the polemical nuance is given still more prominence: in Gal. 6.2,
Rom. 8.2 and Rom. 3.27 'the law rhetorically indicates the opposite of the law'.
Here we have 'the inner, surprising, law-free effect of Christ, of the spirit or of faith
on the formation of the life of a Christian person', Viisi Paavalin kirjettd (1975),
p. 146 (emphasis mine).
2. Cf. above, p. 49 n. 2.
3. G. Friedrich, 'Das Gesetz des Glaubens Rom. 3, 27', TZ 10 (1954),
pp. 401-17.
4. E. Lohse, '6 vouxx; xox> KVEVIIOLIOC, xf^q C,(ar\q: Exegetische Ammerkungen
zu Rom. 8.2', in Neues Testament und christliche Existenz (Festschrift H. Braun;
1973), pp. 286-87.
5. P. von der Osten-Sacken, Romer 8 als Beispiel paulinischer Soteriologie
(1975), pp. 226ff., 245-46; idem, 'Befreiung durch das Gesetz', in Richte unsere
Fusse aufden Weg des Friedens (Festschrift H. Gollwitzer; 1979), pp. 349-60;
H. Hubner, Das Gesetz bei Paulus (2nd edn, 1980), pp. 118-29. Further literature
in the article above (Chapter 2) and in my Paul and the Law (1983), p. 51 n. 37. See
now also R. Heiligenthal, Werke als Zeichen (WUNT, 2nd series, 9; 1983),
pp. 301-303.
3. Paul's Word-Play on vo\ioq 71
In an article which appeared in 1979 I dealt with these new

attempts, paying special attention to the syntactical structure of Rom.
3.27 and 8.2, which in my view still speaks decisively in favour of the
old solution.1 While that article was in press the first volume of
U. Wilckens's commentary on Romans appeared, in which the author
comes out firmly in favour of a 'strict' understanding of v6[io<; as
Torah in 7.23 as well as in 3.27 and 8.2.2 In the second volume, which
appeared in 1980, in which 7.21 is interpreted in the same way,
Wilckens offers some grounds for his position. He argues, in particu-
lar, that the generally accepted meaning of the word, 'orderliness,
rule', is attested 'only in early Greek literature, not, however, in clas-
sical and Hellenistic literature* ? which is the impression gained from
the overview of the history of the word in H. Kleinknecht's article in
Kittel's Dictionary and from Liddell and Scott's lexicon.4
1. See Chapter 2 above. In the second edition of his book, Hubner replied that
behind my rejection of his thesis 'there must be a fundamental theological
disagreement between Raisanen and those whose exegesis he rejects' (Das Gesetz bei
Paulus, p. 136, emphasis mine); I was (he claims) 'ascribing to God what according
to Paul faith should "achieve"'. Matters are not as simple as this! In my view, we
have to deal above all with the syntax of two sentences which are artificially
paraphrased by Hubner and others. Agreement with my article is expressed by D.
Zeller, 'Der Zusammenhang von Gesetz und Sunde im Romerbrief, TZ 38 (1982),
pp. 204 n. 57, 209 and n. 83; E.P. Sanders, Paul, the Law, and the Jewish People
(1983), p. 15 n. 26.
2. Der Brief an die Romer (EKKNT, 6.1; 1978), I, p. 245.
3. Der Brief an die Romer (EKKNT, 6.2; 1980), II, p. 89 (emphasis mine);
similarly, p. 122. On the reservations expressed by Wilckens in two footnotes, see
below p. 88 n. 3 and p. 93 n. 2. K. Snodgrass ('Spheres of Influence:
A Possible Solution to the Problem of Paul and the Law', JSNT 32 [1988], p. 105)
builds wholly on Wilckens's claim. The present article, originally from 1983
(apparently unknown to Snodgrass), refutes Snodgrass's claim that 'Paul has
stretched the word almost beyond recognition', should vo\ioq mean 'power' or
something similar in Rom. 8.2.
4. Wilckens, Romer, II, p. 89 n. 371. It is not mentioned that in his discussion
of vojxo<;'s originally 'comprehensive range of meaning', 'to the extent that the
general first understanding of this is any sort of existing or valid norm, order, moral,
custom or tradition', Kleinknecht expressly remarks: 'This broad usage has always
been maintained' (ThWNT, IV, pp. 1016-17, emphasis mine). Kleinknecht does
not, it is true, give any further examples of the broad usage from later times; his
article suffers from the basic failing of the Kittel Dictionary, the mixing of word and
concept (his interest lies one-sidedly with the concept of the law).
It must be conceded that the broader usage of vojxoq was, to my

knowledge, never documented in connection with the exegesis of the
Pauline passages concerned. The commentaries are completely silent
on this. This is not to say that there are no relevant instances of the
usage. Simply that they were never before systematically collected and
evaluated for Pauline exegesis, though W. Bauer's dictionary gives
important pointers.1 In what follows we shall pursue this task
further.2
2. The Development in the Meaning o

It is not disputed that the oldest usage of voîoq was not restricted to
the legal meaning.3 A survey of this usage indeed demonstrates right
away that a more comprehensive usage of v6\io<; is better not called
'figurative' or 'non-literal'. For initially, VOMO
. Q designates only what
is 'proper' to, 'normal' for or 'characteristic' of a group, while what
is 'normal' is not so by chance or whim but is based on a given
order.4 In Hesiod (Theogonia 417, frg. 221) the word is used to
describe a religious rite. In Erga 276ff. Hesiod says that Zeus gave
human beings a different vo\ioq from that given to animals: while the
latter eat each other, since they live without 8(KT|, he gave human
1. Griechisch-deutsches Worterbuch (5th edn, 1971), s.v. vouxx; 5 (at this

point the fifth edition represents a considerable advance on the fourth). Significantly,
Wilckens (Romer, II, p. 89 n. 371) mentions only that Liddell-Scott gives no
instances from classical and Hellenistic literature; Bauer's evidence is ignored.
2. The details that follow can make no claim to comprehensiveness. Alongside
lexica, of which those of W. Bauer, F. Passow and G.W.H. Lampe but also
H. Stephanus's old lexicon were especially helpful, I have tried to consult all the
concordances and indexes available to me. For many references I am grateful to the
studies of Hirzel, Laroche and Ostwald (see next note).
3. This is conceded by Wilckens also. On v6\ioq see especially: R. Hirzel,
Themis, Dike und Verwandtes (1907), pp. 359-86; H. Kleinknecht, 'Der vouxx; im
Griechentum und Hellenismus', ThWNT, IV, pp. 1016-29 (cf. p. 71 n. 4 above);
F. Heinimann, Nomos und Physis (1945); E. Laroche, Histoire de la racine NEM-
en grec ancien (1949), pp. 164-219; M. Gigante, Nomos Basileus (1956);
M. Ostwald, Nomos and the Beginnings of the Athenian Democracy (1969), esp.
pp. 20-56; A. Marchiano Castellano, 'Vicende semantiche del gr. vojioq', Archivio
Glottologico Italiano 55 (1970), pp. 68-86; L.M. Pasinya, La notion de NOMOS
dans le Pentateuque grec (1973), pp. 26-54.
4. Cf. Heinimann, Nomos und Physis, p. 63.
3. Paul's Word-Play on voîog 73
beings justice, 8(KT|. Here vo\ioq is best rendered by 'order of life',1

'manner of life'2 or 'specific behaviour or actions'.3 It is not a matter
of a commandment-like 'law'. 7ce8icov vo\io<; in Erga 386 designates,
similarly, the regular progress of work in the field.4 In Pindar we
hear of a VO\LO$ tpotpudKcov (Nemea 3.55), which means the correct
use of medicines.5
In Solon (frg. 24 Diehl) vo\io<; appears for the first time in a politi-
cal context, but here the word does not yet have a technical meaning.
When Solon says he has done his work Kpdxei voôu, pvr|v TE KCCI
8(KT|V ovvapiioaaq, it is more a matter of a 'regulating principle'
uniting compulsion and justice than a matter of a state law.6
The poetic/musical usage of v6|io<; also developed at an early stage;
here the word comes to mean the melody, or song, of a particular
lyrical type.7 Also early is the use of the word with the meaning
'custom, convention', which we shall examine below.
In the first instance, then, vo\io<; is found with a wide spectrum of
meanings, all of which have something to do with what is characteris-
tic, common or ordered. The meaning 'state law' constitutes a special-
ized case. In the fourth century BC, vojiog was frequently specialized
(first by Plato); from then on the specific or 'strict' meaning 'state
1. Heinimann, Nomos und Physis, p. 62; V. Ehrenberg, Die Rechtsidee im

fruhen Griechentum (1921), p. 115: 'a kind of natural order'; Ostwald, Nomos,
p. 2 1 .
2. Hirzel, Themis, p. 336; Laroche, Histoire de la racine NEM-, p. 172;
Ostwald, Nomos, p. 21. M.L. West (Hesiod: Works and Days [1978], p. 226)
appears to over-emphasize the normative character of this manner of life. Marchiand
Castellano ('Vicende', p. 71) translates vouxx; by 'situation'.
3. F. Quass, Nomos und Psephisma (1971), p. 15; similarly Ostwald (Nomos,
p. 21): vouxx; 'designates the behaviour itself.
4. Cf. Ehrenberg, Die Rechtsidee, p. 115; Heinimann, Nomos und Physis,
p. 63; Laroche, Histoire de la racine NEM-, p. 172; Ostwald, Nomos, p. 24;
Marchiand Castellano, 'Vicende', p. 71; Quass, Nomos, p. 15.
5. Heinimann, Nomos und Physis, p. 71; Laroche, Histoire de la racine NEM-,
p. 174.
6. H.E. Stier, 'vouxx; fiaoikexx;', Philologus 83 (1928), p. 231: vouxx; here
has 'nothing to do with law'. Cf. Laroche, Histoire de la racine NEM-, p. 173;
Marchiand Castellano, 'Vicende', p. 73.
7. On this, see Laroche, Histoire de la racine NEM-, pp. 166-71; Marchiano
Castellano, 'Vicende', pp. 74-75.
law' is by far the most common.1 The old, broad usage, however,
never died out,2 as can be demonstrated from a number of examples.
3. vo\ioq as 'Rule', 'Order7 or the Like

In what follows a number of references will be cited in which in the
classical and particularly in the Hellenistic period vouxx; is used in
another sense than the legal meaning '(state) law'. Our main interest is
of course in references that are close in date to Paul, so that the Attic
dramatists, for example, will only be referred to briefly. The refer-
ences will be divided into seven groups, according to their usage,
though of course there are borderline cases and overlaps, and some
classifications are simply a matter of personal preference.3
a. Custom, Convention
vo\ioq has this general meaning so often that it would really be
superfluous to cite examples. Naturally the word is especially common
in ethnographic descriptions of the customs of various peoples.4 For
the purposes of our enquiry this usage is not particularly enlightening,
though it does show, nonetheless, that vouxx; frequently does not have
the narrow sense of 'statutary law'.
A few examples will suffice. Alexander sacrificed to the gods oaq
vouxx; (Arrianus, An. 6.3.1; cf. Plutarch, Consolatio ad Apollonium
14) or (oq vo\ioq avxG* (Arrianus, An. 4.4.1), or to those gods oic,
a\>TG) VOÎOQ (7.11.8). The funeral of an emperor, despite the
apotheosis, takes place avBpcbrccov voîcp, in the usual human manner
(Herodian, Hist. 4.2.2). Long robes are worn in the Phoenician style,
vop,(p OOIVCKCOV (5.5.10). Among the Persians it is the custom (vouxx;
icxiv), that relatives kiss one another (Xenophon, Cyr. 1.4.28). One
can have oneself honoured in the Persian style 6>q Uipcaxq voôq
(Lucian, Nigrinus 21). The Assyrians have a particular wedding
custom, ^£%ecov vouxx; (Oppian, H. 4.203). Aelius Aristides opens his
pan-Athenian speech with the statement that among the Hellenes, and
1. Cf. Marchiano Castellano's sketch of the development.

2. Against Marchiano Castellano, 'Vicende', p. 86.
3. Cf. the somewhat different, but in many respects related, classification (of the
older references) by Ostwald.
4. On Herodotus see Marchiano Castellano, 'Vicende*, pp. 76-79;
J.A.S. Evans, 'Despotes Nomos', Athenaeum 43 (1965), pp. 142-53.
in his opinion also among most of the barbarians, it is an old custom

(vouxx; eaxi. ..rcocâios), to pay back one's debt of gratitude
(Or. 1.1). Again for Gregory of Nazianzus the custom of the synods,
to publish their decisions, is called xSv auv68cov 6 vouxx; (Ep.
101.10). Further examples could easily be cited.
Some special cases can also be mentioned. On the border between
this group and the next are the cases in which the courting habits of
animals are spoken of: Oppian speaks of the ya\ixoq VO\LO<; (C. 2.195)
and of a common custom (v6\io<;) found among fish (H. 1.497) and
remarks that animals do not customarily mate (oi) yap xoi 9f|peaai
vouog) while they have young (C. 3.151).
Reference should also be made at this point to the use of vo\ioq eaxi
in the sense of 'to have the right or permission'.1 It is a master's right
(x<p SearcoTri VOUOQ) to take back his own if he desires (Philo, Cher.
118). This usage is also found in one instance in the LXX: they have
drunk the (bitter) cup, oi<; OTL>K VOUXX; TCIEIV, 'who should not have
done', who were not duty-bound to do so (Jer. 29.13, where vouxx;
renders natfo).2
Since the fifth century BC voîo<; has not infrequently had the
meaning 'convention' in the pejorative sense: what is classed only as
conventional, without being actually true.3 One might cite a well-
known example in Democritus's phrase, VOJIG) yA/uid), VOJIG) rcucpov
(Diehls' frg. 125). Similarly Herodotus {Hist. 4.39) remarks that a
coast runs out into the Arabian Gulf; it does not really run out,
though, but only as the saying goes (o\> Ajiyo'oaa ei \ir[ v6u<p).4
b. A Rule Applicable in a Specific Area, which Should Be Followed

The area concerned is often given in a genitive or with an adjective.
In historical writing the applicable rule is 6 vouxx; x?[q iaxopia<;
(Josephus, War 1.11) or 6 xf\q iaxopiag vouxx; (Agathias, Hist.
5.10.7; Anna Comnena, Alexias 15.5) or 6 VOJIOC; xfj<; ypacpfig
(Josephus, War. 5.20). It is to these rules, which dictate how the
1. References in Laroche, Histoire de la ratine NEM-, pp. 183 and 211 n. 98.
2. This is the only time that nstfo is rendered by voîoq in the LXX (the usual
rendering is Kpiu.a). In a corresponding passage (Ezek. 21.32) the LXX translates
ratio with >caGr|K£i.
3. See Heinimann, Nomos und Physis, pp. 85-89; Laroche, Histoire de la
ratine NEM-, pp. 192-93; Ostwald, Nomos, pp. 37-40.
4. Cf. Heinimann, Nomos und Physis, p. 82.
historian should proceed, that 6 vop,o<; 6 rcepi xotuxa also refers in

Libanius, Or. 18.53. In the same way a rhetor follows the v6|io<;
pTixopiKOQ (Anna Comnena, Alexias 5.9), or, like Isocrates,
pT|iopiKoi<; voîoiq KOC! r\Qeax (Philostratus, VS 503).
The vojioq xcov n,ovocn)M.dpcov GCIXIOCXIKCOV determines the into-
nation of certain monosyllabic words (Herodian, in Scholia in Iliadem
11.480); while for the construction of hypotheses the v6|xo<;
i)7io8exiKO(; applies—the rule that one must accept the consequences
of one's hypothesis (Epictetus, Ench. 1.26.1).
The field of medicine is particularly rich in vojxoi. The true doctor
healed the ill KOCXOC XOV VOJXOV xfjc; iaxpiicfi^, says Gregory of Nyssa
(Oratio dominica 70.6, PG 44.1164A). Chrysostom notes that God
himself follows the conventional medical practice, xouxcp KexpT|xai
xfjc; iaxpeiag x5> voîco, by applying apparently contradictory cures
according to the particular illness (De Laudibus Pauli 5.8). Among
other things Hippocrates mentions the voîoc; e^PoXfiQ Kai
8iop6coaio<;, the method of resetting and healing a sprained limb
(Mochl. 38); the voîoi rcepl eni6eîoq, the recognized bandaging
methods {Mochl. 41); the voîoq rcepi KaxT|Yr|[idxcov for healing
fractures (Peri Agmon 7)—paralleled with xporcoq, method, in the
subsequent text; the VOJAO^ dpBpixiKoq (Art. 18) or the v6p,o<;
apGpcov (Art. 87; Mochl. 31), the method for joints. It is worth
mentioning also that a suitably qualified doctor is v6\i(p n£|ia0T|K(o<;
(Galen, De praecognitione 1.6).
The pseudo-Platonic dialogue Minos records, along with iaxpiKoi
v6|ioi, the artistic rules for agriculture, horticulture and cooking:
yecopyiKOi, KTiTccopiKoi, [xaYeipiKol voîoi (316 E).
Oppian describes various types of hunting as voîoi and mentions
'another type of hunting', 6f|pr|q exepoq v6|ioq (H. 4.647) and a
'third type of hunting', OripTiq xpuocxoq v6|io<; (C. 4.147); there is
also an unpleasant type of hunting, v6\ioq 5i)Gxeprceo£ ocypriq
(H, 5.525). In the phrase f|nexepri<;. ..voîog aioXôg aypriq (C.
3.486) VO\LOC, refers not only to the type and manner of the hunt, but
also the enterprise as a whole.1 The rules of various games are called
VOJIOI; in a ball game, for example oi v6|ioi oi acpaiprixiKoi apply
(Clement of Alexandria, Strom. 2.6). Sacrifices are carried out
according to a particular method, xporco) ica! voîco or v6|i(Q KOCI
1. A.W. Mair (Oppian [LCL; 1963]) translates: 'the varied range of our hunting'.
3. Paul's Word-Play on vdfiiog 77
(Philo, Vit. Mos. 1.87; 2.231). In the construction of columns,

too, certain stylistic laws are observed, called vouxn by Philo (Somn.
2.55). Certain rules must be observed at sea, QaXaoar\<; vofioi, for
instance refraining from love-making (Achilles Tatius, Leukippe and
Kleitophon 5.16.7).
c. Ethical Norm, Rule, Principle; the Way of Behaving which Demands

of People a Particular Virtue (Usually Mentioned in the Genitive) or
Goal
This meaning is common in Attic tragedy;1 it will suffice here to
mention Sophocles' statement (in Tr. 1177-78) that obedience towards
one's father is the vo\ioq K&XXxaxoq. In a fragment ascribed to
Menander it is stated that a husband and wife are subject to a vou.o<;,
namely the rule that he should take care of her and that she should do
what pleases him (Pap. Didot 1.14). It is xSv (piAowxcov 6 vouxx; that
even if they reproach one another, they should not hide their love
(Chrysostom, In Isaiam 5.3.42; line references following
J. Dumortier, SC 304). In Sophocles (Aj. 350) the hero says that only
his loyal friends have remained opGS von<p, 'in the right way' or
'upright of way'.2 This vo\io<; is more closely designated by a
scholiast as 6 VOUXK; xr\c, <p\Xia<;: behaviour that friendship demands.
Libanius (Or. 11.215), too, says that in a particular situation one must
behave as prescribed by 6 yiXiaq vo\ioq. When in great peril, on the
other hand, ol <piA,(a<; vouxn are given up, according to Achilles Tatius
(Leukippe and Kleitophon 3.3.5).
One should obey xoT<; aco(ppoawr|<; VOUXUQ (Philo, Spec. Leg.
4.96). It is a suitable wish to be treated Kara VO\LOV icov^xoq (Philo,
Leg. Gai. 62), even if, contrary to this 'law' of equal worth, it is
always the stronger person who holds sway, rcocp' avxov xf|<;
iaoxT|xog voîov (Aelius Aristides, Or. 1.306 [Behr]). Marcus
Aurelius wants to act in friendly and upright manner Kaxa xov xfj<;
Koivcoviac; cpuaiKov vouov (Eis heauton 3.11.3). A clever person acts
1. See the section 'Nomos: regie de vie morale' in Laroche, Histoire de la ratine
NEM-,pp. 180-84.
2. W.B. Stanford, Sophocles: Max (1963): 'in the right way'; W. Willige,
Sophocles, Tragodien und Fragmente (1966): 'upright of way' ('aufrechten Sinns');
J.C. Kamerbeek, The Plays of Sophokles (2nd edn, 1963), I, p. 84: '6p96<; vo\io<;
is to be understood as the right rule, or conception, of life, almost "standard of
life"'.
Kaxa voîo-oq xfjc; oiicovo|iiKfj<;, according to the rules or principles

of good house-keeping (Philo, Spec. Leg. 2.187). Finally, vojioq
TcaiSeiaq describes the behaviour of a well-brought-up person
(Lucian, Pseudol. 3; Ps.-Lucian, Amores 17; Libanius, Or. 19.29).1
d. The Typical Behaviour or Characteristics of a Group or Individual

In some cases one could also speak of a characteristic tendency or
even of a particular compulsion. The oldest attested use of v6|io<;
would come into this category (Hesiod, Erga 276ff., see above, §2), in
which the v6|io<; given by Zeus concerns the particular way of life or
the life principle of animals or human beings. One might mention
here too Croesus's ironical question in Herodotus (Hist. 1.90.2, 4),
whether it is a v6|xoq among the Greek gods to deceive their
benefactors.
A purely outward peculiarity is described by the expression oqncov
vo^co 6pT|n,0£ioai, 'moving in the manner of snakes' (Oppian, H.
3.119). In Aeschylus, A. 594, women lament yovaiKeicp voîa), 'in the
way of women'. According to Euripides (Heracl. 292-93) the voîoq
for all messengers is that they should exaggerate the importance of
everything they report. A rhetor, meanwhile, can appear 'in the
puffed-up way of a sophist', aocpioxoi) v6|xq) ica! %a\)\6xr\x\ (Aelius
Aristides, Or. 69; 533 Dindorf). In a wartime deception the Persians
approached their enemies slowly and v6(xcp cpiXiaq, 'in the manner of
friends' (Polyaenus, Strategemata 7.11.6). By contrast Severus had the
unsuspecting guards surrounded no\t\i{<$ VOJIG), like enemies
(Herodian, Hist. 2.13.4). In marriage a man acts v6|i(p ydixoa) with his
wife (Chrysostom, In Isaiam 8.2.23). According to Plato, the
depraved man, given over to lust, desires to mount like a beast
(xexpdicoSoq voîov) and sire a child (Phaedrus 250 E); both
Plutarch (Amatorius 751 D) and Methodius of Olympus (Symposium
1.2), refer to this passage, both writing T£Tp&rco8o<; v6|i(p.
v6|io<; is used in Sophocles (Aj. 548-49) to designate a quite
personal characteristic, the wish being expressed that the son should
be brought up 'in line with the father's wild, rebellious inclination',
cb|xoi<; a\)xo\) ev voîoiq naipoq. The beaten Lucius asks Octavian for
a lenient sentence so that he does not frighten off prospective
1. At this point in the Libanius text there is the variant 6 dXr|0eia<; vonxx;.
3. Paul's Word-Play on vojôg 79
adherents 'when they learn from this action of yours, 1 \iaQ6vxaq EK

ToB8e xov aoS vouxn), that (among your followers) only victors are
safe' (Appian, BC 5.44).
Speaking of knowledge, Philo says graphically that its purpose or
function is to water the fields of reason, r\. ..vouxx; ap8eiv (Somn.
2.271). Perhaps one may also cite a difficult Philo passage here, in
which the text may be corrupt. When people who have so far ignored
God turn to him as a last resort in their need, God can act thus: O\>K
ejcl TC&VTCOV %pT[za\ TG) v6|i(p (Sacr. 71). This can be understood to
mean that God 'does not in all cases follow his law (of mercy)'; 2 if
this is right, then \6\ioc, means the most characteristic trait of the
person concerned.
In his discussion of the theory that snow was the cause of the
floodings of the Nile, Aelius Aristides (who considers the theory silly)
comments that one cannot even import snow to the Nile Gepoax;
v o n © , 'on account of (the strength of) the summer' (Or. 36.18
[Behr]). voux>q refers to a characteristic trait or effect of the summer.
Sexual relations between a man and a woman take place according
to Antonius Diogenes KOCT' epcoxog voux>v, 'in the manner of love', as
love is characteristically manifested (in Photius, Bibl. 109 A 25-26). 3
Lucian, on the other hand, criticizes certain people who, in stark
contrast to their behaviour in public, live icaia xoix; xfjq fH8ovfi<;
voumx; at home, vouix; designates manifestations of indulgence.
Finally, a special case that is difficult to classify may be mentioned
at this point, namely a statement in Aelius Aristides (Or. 6.51 [Behr])
in which vojiog means the typical fate of foreign armies in Hellas: TOV
voux)v e i c o v t a i xcov urcepopicov Kai neyaAxov axpamcov.
e. Usual Procedure in Certain Situations

The phrase noXe\iox> v6[i(0 occurs particularly often. Here it should
be noted that the 'law' of war is spoken of with a variety of meanings.
In some cases the expression has a more or less legal sense: even in the
1. This is the rendering in W. Bauer, Worterbuch, s.v. vouxx; 5.

2. So F.H. Colson and G.H. Whittaker in the Loeb edition with the note:
*A strange use of von.o<;. . . ' Cf. A. Measson, in Les oeuvres de Philon
d Alexandria IV (1966): 'sa fason de faire habituelle'.
3. Another interpretation is offered by K. Reyhl, Antonios Diogenes (1969),
p. 19: the people concerned *meet together according to the law of Eros: as Eros
planned it*.
state of emergency that exists in war, particular legal norms apply

which forbid certain actions. Thus Polybius speaks of the transgres-
sion of war laws, i)7cep|3a{v£iv xoix; no\£\iox> VOILOUQ (Hist. 7.14.3)
or also of keeping them properly: rcdvxa KOCXCC TOXK; KOX£\IOV
V6[LOX><; 8iica{co<; ercpdxxexo (5.9.1; cf. 2.58.10). Aeschines, too (Or.
2.33), points out that one is justified in holding on to a place one has
captured: io)p{co<; e%eiq xS xou KOXE\IOV v6|iq) Kxr|Gd|i£vo<;. In these
cases vo\ioq clearly has a legal character.1
The vo\ioq of war is often, however, thought to indicate precisely
the opposite of this, on the supposition that there is no order in war
and no positive norms apply. This is clearly the case when the 'law of
the bloody war' is spoken of, v6|i(prcoA,e|ioToSoupowou (Oppian, C.
4.128; cf. noXe\iox) v6|xcp, H. 2.316). It is quite evident, too, when
Laban, deceived by Jacob, complains that Jacob dealt with him
Tto^qioi) vo\i(p—'in the manner of war' (Josephus, Ant. 1.315). An
equally clear biblical example is found in Clement of Alexandria:
Samuel predicts that the future king will act Tcoêîoi) vop.(p
Kpaxriaaq and not eipT|viKTiv oiKovo|xiav Cftk&oaq (Paed. 3.27.1).
Remarkable here is the parallelism between vo\ioq and oiKovoîia;
\6\ioq means something approaching 'order of life'.
The unjust use of violence is in mind when the Egyptian ruler is
said to treat the Israelites cog noX£\iov v6|i(p (Philo, Vit. Mos. 1.36).
Josephus's assurances that Titus did not at first wish to make use of the
KQ\£\LOX) v6|io<; (War 6.239, 346) do not concern legal matters but
the conventional practice of war; in the end, Titus in fact decided
rcdvxa jcpdêiv noX£\iov voîq) (6.353).
Nor is there any implication of a legal ruling when the wish is
expressed: ocpeôv znaQtq KOX£\IO-O voîcp XTJV \)ppiv, 'if you had
only suffered violence after the customs of war' (Achilles Tatius,
Leukippe and Kleitophon 2.24.3). Finally another Polybius passage
should be mentioned, which shows that he too does not always use the
term in a legal sense: xocftxot...dvayKdÔDaiv oi xox> rcoA,e[iou
1. On this cf. Diodoros Siculus, Hist. 30.18.2. Although any war constitutes an
exception to human norms of law and justice, it nonetheless also has 'certain quasi-
laws of its own' (xivaq iSioix; KaGarcepel voja.o\)<;): for example a truce may not be
broken; envoys must not be killed; if someone commits himself to the protection of a
superior opponent, one may not punish him or take revenge on him. In the cases
listed below we are certainly not dealing with such limiting vojxoi.
3. Paul's Word-Play on \6\ioq 81
vouoi. . .8pav (5.11.3). Cases of noX£\iov VOJLKO with the simple

meaning 'in war' are treated below under section g.
Hippocrates (Presbeutikos [Littre 9, 414]) uses exOpcp vouxp in a
similar sense: free persons were enslaved and killed 'like enemies'.
A few further passages should be discussed here, in which the right
of the stronger person, which generally holds sway in conflict situa-
tions, is described as a voîo^. In Thucydides, Hist. 5.105.2 the
Athenians state that by a natural necessity (hnb (pvceaq avayKcuaq)
both the deity and human beings could 'rule over those to whom they
were superior in power' (ov av Kpaxp ap%eiv). This principle is
called a vo\ioq in the subsequent text:
We are guided by this nomos; not a nomos that we have set up ourselves
(Oevieq), nor one that we are the first. .. to have brought into use, but
one which we found already in existence, and which we shall leave
behind us.
With a word-play (ironical?) a connection is made to the 'law' in the
juridical sense, although the orderliness concerned is not at all of a
legal kind.
The meaning is similar in Plutarch, Camillus 11 A. Here Brennus,
king of the Galatians argues: whoever destroys other peoples in war
does no wrong, but simply follows the oldest vo\ioq of all, which
grants the property of the underdog to the stronger party (o<; TOO
Kpevrxovi tot xcov TJTTOVCOV 8(8coaiv): this 'law' has validity from the
gods to the animals. For it is in the nature of animals too (xovxoiq £K
yvaecoq eveaxi), that the stronger tries to gain more than the weaker.
In a well-known passage in Plato's Gorgias (483 E) the sophist
Callicles describes the rule that the stronger lords it over the weaker
as a v6\io<z of nature (Korea v6|iov ye xov xf|<; q>t>aeco<;). The phrase is
bold and surprising, since in the preceding text vo\ioq and (pvaic, are
treated as opposites (expressly so in 482 E).1 Callicles' expression has
nothing to do with the 'natural law' in the Stoic sense; it is a matter of
1. Cf. W.R.M. Lamb, Plato: Lysis, Symposium, Gorgias (LCL; 1961) ad. he:
'Callicles boldly applies the word vouxx;, which so far has been used in the sense of
man-made law or convention, in its widest sense of "general rule" or "principle"'.
G. Eigler and H. Hofmann (eds.), Platon: Werke, II, p. 603 n. 43: 'paradoxical
new version uniting the previously antithetically used terms vojxo<; and (piSoi<;\
E.R. Dodds, Plato: Gorgias (1959), p. 268: 'Callicles is coining a new and
paradoxical phrase. .. '
'a rule of conduct based on the analogy of "natural" behaviour... As

Socrates shows later, it amounts in practice to domination by instinc-
tive appetites. . .'* Josephus (War 5.367), quite similarly, calls it a
firm rule (yo\iov yt [ii\v copiaGai) among animals as well as people
that the weaker must give way to the stronger, and that rule belongs to
those who excel in the use of weapons. Then in Herm., frg. 26.6
(Festugiere, IV, p. 82), it is stated concerning four-footed animals:
\6\xoq yap eKewovq eaxlv T| la^tx;. And in Achilles Tatius (Leukippe
and Kleitophon 3.3.3) it is stated that on the sea violence is the
effective \6\ioq: f| GdXaooa yap z%z\ vojxov v\v p(av.
From the point of view of Pauline exegesis it is particularly
interesting that the impious rich in Wis. 2.11 say: 'Our strength shall
be vojioc; xfjc; 8iKaioa\>VT|<;!' O. Hofius, to whom I owe this
reference, correctly observes: 'As Wis. 2.1 If. shows, voîoq can
certainly be used in different senses in one and the same context'.2 In
2.12 it is a matter of the Torah: the righteous man accuses the wicked
of aîapTf||iaxa voîco.
f. The Regularity which Naturally Pertains in Life or in One of its

Subordinate Parts; the Ruling Order, the Normal Situation
The border between this group and the preceding one is fluid. In most
of the instances in this group, however, one can say that the 'order' is
independent of human behaviour or human effort.
In the process of conception everything is governed by regularity:
v6|xo<; |iev icdvxa Kpaxuvei (Hippocrates, Genit. 1.1). Even an
embryo develops xocxa v6|xov (Ps.-Hippocrates, De septimestri partu
11; 16) or Kaxa voîo-og (De septimestri partu 5). It is to the 'laws' of
the physical world that the words of Maximus Tyrius refer (Diss.
41.5), xcov \ih? acojidxcov xcp avxfiv vo\i(p m l %p6vq) cpGeipopivcov,
as well as Plato's statement that blood, alongside the 'natural' way, can
also be renewedrcocpaxovq xf|<; (puaeox;.. .voîoix; (77. 83 E).3 A
normal birth (in contrast to a virgin birth) occurs vo\i(p q>\>aeco<;
1. Dodds, Gorgias, p. 268.

2. O. Hofius, 'Das Gesetz des Mose und das Gesetz Christi', ZTK 80 (1983),
p. 280 n. 61.
3. The (puceox; VO\LOI here are 'not unshakable natural laws, but certain condi-
tions on which the health of bodily nature depends'; they are 'certain tendencies that
are either congenital or acquired' (Hirzel, Themis, p. 391).
3. Pauls Word-Play on v6\ioq 83
(Chrysostom, In Isaiam 7.5.62; cf. 7.6.15). That the Saviour had to

take nourishment corresponded to xfi> KOIVS xr\q (puaeox; voî©
(7.6.84). vo\L(p Kvr\azcoq means 'in accordance with the normal pro-
cess of pregnancy' (Gregory of Nazianzus, Ep. 101.16).
According to the Corpus Hermeticum there are four places in the
universe which are all subject to drcapapaxcp vo\i(£> Kai rcpoaxaaia
(frg. 24.1 [Festugiere, IV, p. 52]). That the Pronoia provides
everything but the Heimarmene is the cause of the constellation of the
stars, is a voîog acp'oicxog, m 0 ' OV rcdvxcc XEXOCKXCU (frg. 14.2).
Similarly, it is a divine order, Qeov v6\io<;9 that a human soul can
only enter a human body (and not that of an animal) (Herm. 10.19).
In Jer. 38.37 LXX ol voîoi (Heb. D*pn) oSxoi refers to the
character of the phenomena of nature (cf. v. 36); vo\ioq is, however,
found with another meaning in the same context (v. 33). It is
conceivable that the LXX translator of 2 Kingdoms, who rendered the
expression Di»n m n nun (7.19) literally with 6 v6\io<; xov
avGpamou, was also thinking of a divine order governing people's
lives (here, the order applicable for propagation of the race).1
The following cases are close to the preceding group e. According
to Epictetus it is a vo\ioq xfjq yvczcoq Kai xov Qeov that the better
person is always ahead of the worse person (Ench. 1.29.19), or a
v6|xo<; (pvaiKoc, that the better person always has more than the other
in the area in which he is superior (3.17.6).
According to Philo it is v6\ioq (pvcecoq avenxX^KXoq that the place
of the creature is in all respects inferior to that of the creator (Plant.
132). Meanwhile, the fact that injustice is pleasant while just actions
are trying, is 6 ayevcxaxoc, voîoq (Philo, Congr. 163).
We now come to 'laws' which we would today call psychological. In
1. The Hebrew text is generally regarded as corrupt. All ancient translations

however presuppose nrmn rnn. On the exegesis of the verse see O. Eissfeldt, '"Das
Gesetz des Menschen" in 2. Sam 7,19', in idem, Kleine Schriften (1973), V,
pp. 143-51. Eissfeldt argues for the originality of DiKn rnn, in the sense of a God-
given regularity, analogous to Gen. 8.22 or Jer. 31.35, for example. But the com-
parison with such genitive constructions as Tbvn rnn (Lev. 6.2; cf. Num. 6.13;
Ezek. 43.12; 'Das Gesetz des Menschen', pp. 147-48) is rather misleading. Should
the translation of 2 Sam. 7.19a with 'can such be a person's destiny', as is suggested
by the Finnish commission for the translation of the Bible, be correct, then the
passage would be comparable with the reference from Aelius Aristides (Oratio 6.51)
cited above under section d.
a fragment from Euripides' Diktys (frg. 346 Seeck = frg. 334

Nauck), a vo\io<; is mentioned which is common to gods, humans and
animals: TEKVCX TIKTOUGIV (piA,eiv. It is a principle common to all
living creatures to love their offspring. In other respects, the subse-
quent text tells us, the three groups follow various principles (%copl<;
XpSîeG' aXkr\Xow voîoig).
Philo's writings are particularly illuminating in this area.1 It is a
natural order of things, vojxog (pt>aeco<;, that children inherit from their
parents and not vice versa (Vit. Mos. 2.245), or that the creator being
takes care of the created (Praem. Poen. 42). The need to have children
is a v6|xog cpuaecog (Abr. 249), so that in conceiving one is in fact
fulfilling this voîoq (px>aeco<; (Praem. Poen. 108). The masses have
need of a leader vojiq) (pvoecoq (Agr. 31). Finally, it is also a v6|xog
qniaeco^, that the wise person is superior to all fools (Omn. Prob.
Lib. 30).
In Josephus (War 3.370) we hear of a qyoaecoc; vo\io<; iaxvpoq, the
desire to live, which stops animals seeking death or committing
suicide. There is similar mention of those who leave this life KCCICC
TOV 1% (pvaecog vop.ov (3.374). An exceptionally violent death does
not occur xcp Kowcp xf\q cpuaeox; vonq) (Chrysostom, In Isaiam
3.10.56). In another passage Chrysostom expresses the same thing
with the words T(p Koivcp, ax; (pccai, vojiq) (In Isaiam 6.5.39).
In various fields there are regular principles, vojioi, which humans
can discover, but which were not created by humans (in contrast to
group b, where v6p.o<; means the skill developed by a person in a
particular subject). Of the numbers, 'six' is a productive number
cpvoecog VOJIOIQ (Philo, Op. Mund. 13; 172). Other such voîoi that
are independent of human beings are dA,A,T|Yopia<; vojioi or oi ev
dM.T|Yop{a vojioi (Philo, Somn. 1.102; Abr. 68). A biblical passage
should be expounded in a particular way aX^yopiaQ voîq)
(Procopius Gazaeus on Gen. 4.2, PG 87.237A; Didymus the Blind, Eis
ten Genesin 16.1; 1.5 voîcp aMjiyopiocQ). In scriptural usage oi
1. In what follows only those Philo passages will be drawn upon in which the
subject is not a commandment-type law of nature; the * natural law' in this sense is
identified by Philo with the Torah. See H. Koester, *v6|xo<; (p'ooeco^', in Religions in
Antiquity (1968), pp. 530ff. Koester correctly observes that in some cases Philo
calls certain *general rules' natural laws ('vouxx; (pvoea)^', p. 537 n. 4). Our atten-
tion is directed at precisely such references as these (though the borders between the
categories can certainly be fluid).
3. Paul's Word-Play on vdfiog 85
vouxn oi xfjg Ypoccpfjs apply, which have to be observed in exposition

in order to avoid erroneous conclusions (Chrysostom, In Joannem
homilia 81.2, PG 59.440); it is noteworthy that xporcoq occurs in
parallel with vofiog here.1 We are not ourselves in charge of these
rules (xcov VOJXCOV xovxcov); hence it is right, following the sense of
the scripture, to make use of the allegorical method of interpretation
(xS xf|<; &M,r|Yop{a<; xporcG)) (Chrysostom, In Isaiam 5.3.47-49);
here too voîog and xporco<; are in parallel. The expression xf|<;
ypoccpfjc; ovxog 6 vojiot (5.3.64-65) also indicates a regularity: when
the scripture presents an allegory it also gives its explanation.
Similarly Chrysostom mentions Tcpocprixemq xov vouxw (2.1.44). The
following 'law' is customary in prophecy (xw a\)vf|0ei K£%priuivo£
v6\i(p xfjg 7cpo(pr|xe{ag): the prophet speaks of the future as if it were
the past (3.4.48).
In music there is the ux)i)cmc6<; vo\ioq or 6 KOCXOC JLIODGIKTIV v6|io<;
(Philo, Omn. Prob. 49; 51) and also voum u,ouaiicfj<; xekeiaq (Philo,
Op. Mund. 54) or oi uxroaiicfig xzkziac, VOJIOI (70). Grammar and
geometry also have their respective voum {Omn. Prob. 49). In life
itself quite generally 6 ev xco p{q) v6|io(; or 6 (3ICOXIKO<; V6|LIO<; applies
(Omn. Prob. 49; 51); those who have mastered the art of right living
are united by their knowledge as much as experts in music, grammar
or geometry. Epictetus also mentions the v6|io<; Picoxixog (Ench.
1.26.1), which consists in the requirement that we do what nature
demands.
An anonymous homily says of the crucified Christ that he Gavdxoi)
eyvcopiae vojxov. J. Liebaert translates (SC 146, Horn. 1.3, p. 60):
'knowing the law of death, he did not inflict the terror of death on
criminals'. Gavdxoi) v6|io£ here refers to 'fear of death'.
g. A Method or the Manifestation of a Phenomenon

Here we are dealing with linguistic constructions in which v6\ioc, is
almost or even completely identical with the nomen rectum (genitive
of apposition). The v6|io£ is thus a method which represents the
1. Chrysostom's aim is to interpret away the final sense from Jn 17.12. In this
verse, an expression (xponoq) peculiar to Scripture is used (which should not be
understood literally in a final sense). One should therefore take careful note of the
Tp67io<; of the person speaking, of the argument, and of the v6(xoi of the Scripture
in general, if one is to avoid drawing false conclusions.
phenomenon under discussion, or describes a manifestation of this

phenomenon. The word could also be omitted without any real
semantic loss.
The expression KOXE\IOV v6|icp has already been discussed in
section e above. At this point we should add a few cases in which the
syntax—unlike the cases mentioned thus far—gives the meaning 'in
the war' or similar. Aeneas died rcoAinoi) v6|i(p, in battle (Appian,
Reg., frg. 1.2). One can go out noXi\iov v6p,(p, that is launch a
military attack (Josephus, Ant. 15.157). One can also go from place to
place vopxp 7cofX7cf|c;, in a procession (Polyaenus, Strategemata 5.5.2).
Opponents gauge the piety of Christians Gucncov vofico, by using
their attitude to sacrifices as a yardstick (Athenagoras, Legatio 13.1;
PG 6.916A).
Perhaps the most interesting of all the references cited in this essay
is a completely overlooked passage in Josephus. In his speech to Isaac,
Abraham places two manners of death in opposition: Isaac will leave
this life vo\L(p GIXUCCQ, in the way of sacrifice, and not in the usual
way, xov KOIVOV xporcov {Ant. 1.230). Again vop.o<; is almost identi-
cal to xpoTcog, 'manner', 'method'.
To this category, finally, belongs the common expression (ev)
%eipcov vopxG, the meaning of which is disputed. What seems clear, is
that the expression does not mean 'club-law' in a legal sense; rather,
the meaning is 'fisticuffs'.1 This kind of interpretation does not, how-
ever, necessitate the accenting vo|ifi) suggested by A. Wilhelm (from
VOIXOQ, 'apportionment', 'exchange'), in which the phrase's concrete
meaning would be the exchange of blows by hands.2 The alternative
he establishes, either 'VOJXOC; in the sense of custom, statute, law' or
'vo|io£ in the sense of a veîeiv of the xeipeq'3, seems unnecessary. In
the light of the use of v6|iog elsewhere, the v6|ioq of the hands can
certainly be understood as a characteristic use of the hands, that is as
'fisticuffs', but also more abstractly as 'use of violence'. In the present
1. A. Wilhelm showed this in an influential essay: 'ev xeipcov vou.ai<; und ev

Xeipcov (xeipoq) vojup', Glotta 24 (1936), pp. 133-44.
2. Wilhelm, 'ev x£ip&v vojiau;', p. 140. This suggestion was even accepted
(with 'perhaps') in Liddell-Scott's supplementary volume (p. 105). Wilhelm is
followed also by M. Pohlenz, 'NOMOS', Philologus 97 (1948), p. 140. For criti-
cism, see Laroche, Histoire de la racine NEM-, p. 196; cf. also Ostwald, Nomos,
p. 2 4 .
3. Wilhelm, 'ev x£ip©v vouxxu;', p. 140.
3. Pauls Word-Play on vdfiog 87
context the word vo\ioq seems toneless; it hardly adds anything

semantically significant. This is also indicated by the fact that expres-
sions like eiq X£ipa<; eMteiv, where vo\ioq does not occur, can also
mean 'fisticuffs'.1 eiq xeipaq iXQeiv in Thucydides, Hist. 4.96 seems
to mean the same as £<; xeipcov voux>v dtrciKeaGai in Herodotus, Hist.
9.48 (cf. ev %eipSv vojico anoXXvcQai, 8.89).
It should be noted, furthermore, that this expression does not
always have the concrete meaning of an activity of the 'hands', but the
more general meaning of 'violence' or even 'use of weapons'. In
Aeschines, Orationes 1.5, ev xeipcov VOJICO refers to a revolution. In
Pollux, Onomasticon 2.149 the expression ev %z\p&v vou,cp
&|j,t>v(xo9(xi is cited; this can hardly refer to an exchange of blows,
but rather much more generally to violence and bloodshed. 'Violence'
is the clear meaning in Dionysius of Halicarnassos, Hist. 6.26.2:
anyone who so much as touched the prisoners was torn apart by the
crowds ev x^P^v vouxo (so most versions; the MSS read CK x ei po£
vouxp). Here the violence is committed onesidedly by a single party,
so that it does not come to an 'exchange' at all.2 Moreover it should be
pointed out that the murderer of Archilochos according to Heracleides
Ponticus (frg. 8, FHG II, 214) protests his innocence with the words:
'I am pure, ev xeipcov yap vouxp eKieiva'. It is evident from parallel
accounts that this means as much as 'in battle': according to Plutarch,
De sera numinis vindicta 17 the poet died ev xx\ uxxxfl; according to
Aelian, frg. 80 (Hercher), this was ev xco Ttoêuxp. The author could
just as well have said KOXE\IOV v6|iG).
All these passages differ scarcely at all from Aristotle, Pol. 3.9.2
(125a), where ev xtxpbc, vouxo means 'by laying hands on', 'by violent
means'.3
It remains to mention that xîp&v VOJXCO or similar is found very
frequently in Polybius,4 and, furthermore, in Diodorus Siculus (Hist.
1. References in Liddell-Scott, s.v. xeip 6 d (p. 1983); Wilhelm, 'ev xeipcov

vo|iaT<;\ pp. 138-40.
2. Compare the description of the situation in Wilhelm, 'ev xeipcov vojiou;',
p. 143. Wilhelm reads ev %£lP^ vo^cp; according to him the singular expression
should be distinguished semantically from the plural expression.
3. Contra Wilhelm ('ev xeip»v vo|iai<;\ p. 142), who attached importance to
the choice of the singular.
4. 1.34.5; 1.57.8; 1.82.2; 2.28.10; 3.63.5; 3.116.9; 4.58.9; 5.111.6; 8.32.7;
11.2.1; 11.18.4.
4.32.4; 20.5.2; 20.66.3; 20.98.9) and in Aelius Aristides, Oratio 1.160

(Behr), among others.
Whether the expression we are concerned with relates to 'fisticuffs'
or, more abstractly, to 'violence'—it is obvious that both meanings
are attested—for our present purposes the most important observation
to be made is that v6|ioq here refers to the 'method' of the use of the
hands. Semantically, v6\ioq itself is dispensable.
The classification of an expression in Pseudo-Macarius, Horn. 26.7.2
(SC 275) is difficult, where concerning the creation of the human
being it is said: eG-qicev eig a\)T^v vonoax; dpexSv, 8iaKpiaiv,
yvSaiv, (ppovT|oiv, rciaxiv, &Y&7tT|v KOU xaq XOIKOLC, dpeidg... Here
vojiog seems to denote a 'category'.
4. Implications for Pauline Exegesis

The linguistically comparable material cannot of course decide the
question whether Paul in any particular passage means voîoq as
strictly the Torah. This can only be established by a contextual exege-
sis. On the other hand the references collected here certainly provide
the basis for answering the question whether a broad ('non-literal', to
use a common term) use of voîog was known in Paul's linguistic
world and whether such a use can therefore also be considered for the
relevant Pauline passages. The answer to this—contra Wilckens1—can
only be an affirmative one.
In the first place it is clear that the use of \6\ioq in Rom. 7.21 in the
sense of a '"general rule" of sinning'2 is covered by the references
collected in section f above; such a use of voîoc; must have been fairly
common in the Hellenistic world. It is striking that this usage is found
particularly frequently in Philo. There is nothing in Rom. 7.21 that
would counter the assumption of a 'figurative' use of vofiog, especi-
ally as the 'strict' interpretation seems very forced in this case.3
1. See p. 71 n. 3 above.
2. H. Lietzmann, An die Romer (5th edn, 1971), p. 77.
3. Wilckens's correct grammatical observation (Romer, II, p. 89 n. 371) that
the explanatory oti clause contradicts customary usage can have no consequences for
the meaning of vou.o<;; the evidence simply reflects the general demise of the
infinitive in the language of the NT. T. Zahn (Der Brief des Paulus an die Romer
[1925], p. 356) thought that the 'use of cm to introduce something commanded by a
law or dictated by tradition is quite un-Greek*, which is indeed true in respect of
In Rom. 7.23 the v6|xoi occur one after another.1 Lietzmann

commented that 'each voîo^ is used non-literally', in the sense of
'inclination of will'. Hirzel concurred and presented the Platonic pas-
sage Timaeus 83 E for comparison (see above section f).2 It seems to
me that an even more appropriate comparison would be with the
references in group d, in which voîoq means a typical kind of
behaviour or a characteristic tendency. In view of such instances of
vofioq a broad sense is quite possible in Rom. 7.23. In this case too
the strict interpretation is so artificial that it can hardly be taken
seriously—it tries to make a statement about a divided Torah out of
one about a divided person?
The references in group d, moreover, favour a 'figurative'
exposition of the phrase 6 v6\ioc, xox> Xpioxoi) in Gal. 6.2. The con-
text indicates that the law of Christ is fulfilled in bearing one's
neighbour's burdens. One might for example compare Lucian's speech
concerning the voîoi of the (personified) Hedone, which indeed
describe a way of life, or that of Antonius Diogenes concerning the
vo\ioq of Eros, which is realized in the behaviour of lovers.
Lietzmann interpreted the vo\ioq TC{OT£(D£ in Rom. 3.27 as 'the new
order of salvation that demands faith'.4 On purely philological
grounds there can be no objection to this interpretation, which is
drawn from the parallelism with vo\io<; xcov epycov ('the law of Moses
that demands works'). In group c above references were cited in
classical Greek. This 'fault', however, is not rectified by taking vouxx; 'strictly', as
long as the <m clause is still being understood as an 'explanation of xov vou.ov' (so
Wilckens, Romer, II, p. 89); one would have to take the o n causally (so Zahn),
which makes no sense. Wilckens sees the impossibility of relating the vouxx; of v.
21 directly to the Torah; he tries to get over this problem by explaining that the
vouxx; of v. 21 is the 'other law', 'the law of sin in my members' of v. 23. The
former law is then understood as 'the Torah that has been abused by sin' (Romer, II,
p. 90). This makes no sense, however: 'I therefore find the Torah that has been
abused by sin, that (!) only evil is available to me. . . ' Wilckens's translation is of
course different (Romer, II, p. 74): 'I therefore find the law that. . . ' But the trans-
lation and the commentary are not in agreement. Snodgrass ('Spheres of Influence',
p. 105) resorts to positing an accusative of reference ('I find then with reference to
the Torah').
1. Lietzmann, An die Romer, p. 77.
2. Hirzel, Themis, p. 391 and n. 5; cf. p. 385 n. 4.
3. This also against Snodgrass ('Spheres of Influence', p. 106).
which vouog in a precisely analogous way describes the required

behaviour, 'the behaviour that is demanded of a person by a particular
virtue or a particular goal', while often that virtue is specified by
means of a genitive of attribution. In the context of Pauline theology
there is, however, another more natural understanding of v6|xo<;
Tciaxecoc;. One could paraphrase the expression as 'the new order that
creates faith and appears in it' 1 or even see in it a 'rhetorical circum-
locution' for faith.2 Here the examples cited in group g appear
helpful. Linguistically comparable with a vo\ioq Tciaxecoq in which the
Kiaziq appears as an order of salvation would, for example, be the
v6\ioc, Qvaiac, which in Josephus means the way, or the order, which
the sacrifice represents.
In vouxx; xou 7cvex>|iaxo<; (Rom. 8.2) Gyllenberg similarly sees a
rhetorical circumlocution for 'spirit'. 3 This 'law', according to this
interpretation, is 'nothing other than the spirit itself in its ruling func-
tion in the area of Christ'.4 This interpretation also resonates well
with the usage of v6|io<; listed in section g. The same applies to
interpretations which take the 'law of the spirit' to be the order of
salvation that is based on the spirit.
Interestingly, Theodore of Mopsuestia understands the genitive
constructions with voîoq in Rom. 8.2 and 3.27 as well as in 7.23
(6 vo\ioq xfiq auxxpxmc;) in a rhetorical-appositional sense. Writing
of Rom. 7.22-23 he remarks that the apostle is certainly not speaking
there of 'three or four laws'. He says 'law of sin' where he means
simply 'sin' (dvxl yap xou eiTteiv xryv 6c|iapx{av, v6(iov eucev
auxxpx(a<;, o\)8ev aAAoioxepov Xeywv). This is, he claims, an
expression that is peculiar to Paul; analogously, earlier in Romans he
has said Siot vouxn) juaxecoc; and will shortly say 6 y&P vouxx; xou
7cvet>|iotxo<; xf|<; £cofj<; instead of a simple xorcveujiocxr\q £oof|q. The
reason for this is: any v6|io<; has its own goal or intention (OKOTCOC;
eoxi vouxro Tcccvxoq i'Sioq). The apostle calls the matters in question
vouxn, in order to indicate the intention in each case, but means 'just
the thing itself and nothing else'.5
1. E. Kasemann, An die Romer (3rd edn, 1974), p. 96.

2. Gyllenberg, Rechtfertigung, p. 20.
4. Kasemann, An die Romer, p. 207.
5. e<p' eKdoTOi) xo xofi vo\iox>rcpoaxiGriGivovojxa, iva exnr\ xov GKOTCOV
3. Paul's Word-Play on vdfiog 91
Word-Play
An important aspect of the relevant Pauline passages has so far been
discussed only very cursorily: Paul intentionally plays with words.
Although vop.o<; does not mean the Torah, the word has not been
chosen without reference to it. The 'rule of sinning' (Rom. 7.21) Paul
calls vo\ioq too, 'like an evil double of the law of Moses', and in v. 23
the expression is likewise 'deliberately chosen as a parallel to the
Mosaic nomos'} In the paradoxical antithesis2 in 3.27 one can discern
the 'delight in word-play';3 similarly in 8.2 there is 'doubtless' a
reminder of the Torah, which, however, is intended to point up the
contrast, not to construct a bridge.4
Perhaps at this point one should recall the frequent word-plays with
vo\ioq in Greek literature. 'Since Plato use has been made again and
again of the political-musical double meaning of the "Gesetzesweise"
(nomos meaning both "law" and "melody") in word-play'.5 Plato
{Leg, 4.722 D-E) states that there are beautiful 'preludes' (rcpooiuia)
to the lyrical so-called (êyouxvoi) voôi, but none to the real
(ovxcoq) voum. He repeats the word-play in Leg. 5.734 E and 7.799
E. The Pythagorean Archytas compares the inner order and harmony
of the two voum (in Stobaios, Eel. 4.1.138), and Maximus of Tyre
likes to call the voum of Lycurgos 'musical knowledge' (6.7). Use has
also been made of plays on the etymology of V6|LIO<;. According to
Plato we refer to 'what reason apportions and dictates as law' (TTIV
TOU vov 8UXVOJITIV ercovond£ovTa<; v6[iov,Leg. 4.714 A); similarly
the pseudo-Platonic Dialogue Minos speaks of the giving of laws as
being the art of right distribution (vejiico) by a good distributor or
supplier (voîeiig) (317 D-318 A).6
In Aristophanes' 'Birds' there appears to be a play on the words
oq, 'meadow, resting place', and v6|io<;, 'law, custom'. The
xox> 7cpdYH.<xT0<;, icepi oSrcep a v Xeyp, CCDTO TO 7cpayy,a m i ot>x' exepov

keyoov. For the text, see K. Staab, Pauluskommentare aus der griechischen Kirche
(1933), pp. 132-33. Cf. Pseudo-Makarios, Horn. 16.3.4 (SC 275): 6 vo\io<; Tifc
ctM.apT{a<; (Rom. 7.23) = TO jcvevîa TOO
5. Kleinknecht, *voô<;', p. 1018.
6. Cf. Marcus Aurelius, Eis heauton 10.25.
'ornithomaniacs' do everything as the birds do: early in the morning

they 'fly' like birds ercl vouxSv (1286-87). H. van Daele observes:
'Word-play on v6|io<;, 'pasture', and vouxx;, 'law'. As the birds from
the morning on seek after their pasture... so the Athenians run to the
assembly and to the tribunals'.1
It is worth considering whether vojioq in the sense of the right of
the stronger person as in Thucydides or Plutarch (see above, section
e) has an ironic connotation: a 'law' that is against all justice.
It is, of course, a long way from this to Pauline usage, especially as
the word-plays, at least in the comparisons with the song, are
favourable to the law. In usage influenced by the sophists, however,
there are suggestions of word-play in which the law-vouxx; is viewed
critically.2 In particular a passage taken from Euripides' Hecabe was
discussed (799-800);3 but the existence of a word-play seems too
1. V. Coulon and H. van Daele, Aristophane (1928), III, p. 86. Van Daele
finds the same word-play in vv. 1343 and 1346. In vv. 1345-46 the various MSS
indeed waver between vouxn and vouxn.
2. Cf. Heinimann, Nomos und Physis, pp. 120-24. It is not so clear to me,
however, that for example in Aristophanes, Birds 755ff. we have primarily a play on
words when it is explained there that for birds what is considered good v6|X(p among
the Athenians is disgraceful vouxp, and vice versa. That the customs and laws called
vouxn are relativized is another matter.
3. It says here, first, that the gods are strong, as is also the vouxx; that stands
over them: oi Geoi aGevoOai x& Kelvcov Kpaicov vouxx;. Immediately following,
in line 800, is the expression v6|iicp yap TOXH; Gecnx; fiyovu-eGa (1. 801) Kai
£(ou.£v a5iKa Kai 5IKCCI' ©piojievoi. On the face of it this means that 'men's belief
in the gods is based on the fact that the world is orderly, a kosmos not a chaos'
(J.T. Sheppard, Euripides: Hecuba [repr. 1960], p. 76). Some, however, have
wanted to understand the expression in the sophist sense also: the veneration of the
gods rests only on conventional opinion (vouxp); so Heinimann (Nomos und Physis,
p. 121), who is followed by Laroche (Histoire de la ratine NEM-, p. 191) and
Ostwald (Nomos, p. 38). G.M.A. Grube, on the other hand, considers such an
interpretation 'ridiculous' (The Drama of Euripides [1962], p. 96 n. 1); 'such a sen-
timent is here completely out of place and makes nonsense of her appeal'. In view of
Hecuba's speech this objection is undoubtedly right. Heinimann knows this also; he
thinks that 'Euripides' enlightened knowledge' turns the idea around 'for the
listener—not in Hecuba's sense'. The question is whether one can credit the poet
with such asides to the audience, which have nothing to do with the situation of the
person speaking. Undecided on this point is DJ. Conacher, Euripidean Drama
(1967), p. 161 n. 32. For an illuminating explanation of the role of the vouxx; in
'Hecuba', in which a sophist understanding of 1. 800 would be out of place, see
3. Paul's Word-Play on voîog 93
uncertain to be built upon asfirmevidence. Closest to Pauline usage is

probably the unexpected use of VOÎOQ by Callicles in Plato, Gorgias
483 E, where Callicles 'boldly applies the word vojiioq, which so far
has been used in the sense of humanly contrived law or convention, in
its widest sense of 'general rule' or 'principle'.1
The value of such instances of word-play for the understanding of
Paul's language is certainly not very great. At best they are rather
remote analogies. There can be no question of a dependence on Plato
or on the dramatists. But perhaps it is not without significance to
know that people sometimes made plays on the word voîog. It would
scarcely be surprising if more or less related word-plays should occur
to a creative speaker/writer some day, when he is occupied with the
problems of the vop.og.2 Very close analogies need not be expected.
The unmistakable personal individuality of Paul is also reflected in his
use of language.
I believe with the above discussion I have been able to lay
Wilckens's objection to rest. In themselves the analogies do not force
the conclusion that the phrases in question use voîog in the broad
sense. Each context, however, rules out a 'strict' understanding, for
syntactical reasons. Rom. 3.27 and 8.2 do not speak of what has hap-
pened to the vojioq but of what was achieved by the VO\IOQ. In Rom.
3.27 the voîoq of faith functions as the instrument of the salvation
G.M. Kirkwood, 'Hecuba and Nomos', Transactions and Proceedings of the

American Philological Association 78 (1947), pp. 61-68, esp. pp. 65-66.
1. Lamb, Plato; see p. 81 n. 1.
2. Wilckens (Romer, II, p. 122 n. 491) attempts to support his claim that there
are no classical or Hellenistic instances of vouxx; being used in the 'figurative' sense
with the comment, 'Above all, however, there is no documentation for the notion of
different, even diametrically opposed, "orders" or "norms" which are referred to as
vouxx; with a genitive'. Indeed so! But where, then, is there documentation of dif-
ferent aspects of a law in the 'strict' sense ever being described as vouxx; with a
genitive and being placed in opposition to one another?! Paul's usage is completely
distinctive at this point, however the term vouxx; is understood. It would, though,
have been possible in theory for Josephus to have contrasted vouxx; Qvoiaq in Ant.
1.230 (see category g above) with a vouxx; T<OV noXX&v instead of KOIVO<; xponoq.
That he did not do so is quite understandable, since unlike Paul he had no particular
interest in the word vouxx;. Clement of Alexandria perhaps comes closest to fulfilling
Wilckens's unjustified demand when he contrasts the genitive vouxx; noXe\iox> with
the construction eipriviicfi oiKOVouioc (Paedagogus 3.27.1; see group e above).
Linguistically, a vouxx; eiprjvrjc; would also have been possible here.
event; in Rom. 8.2 the vojxoq of the spirit is even the active subject.
Such an active role would be inconceivable in Paul's thought for the
Torah, however it is understood.1
1. Snodgrass ('Spheres of Influence', pp. 101-102) gives no clear explanation

as to how the Torah could have been the instrument of the exclusion of boasting; on
p. 107, however, he already uses 3.27 to support his still more unlikely interpreta-
tion that the Torah is the 'agent effecting freedom' (p. 106) in 8.2. Yet even he has
to admit that 'it is not the law itself that frees'. But this is precisely what the nomos
of Rom. 8.2 does! For a correct interpretation of 3.27 (and 8.2) see now also
S. Westerholm, Israel's Law and the Church's Faith (1988), pp. 122-26.
Chapter 4
THE USE OF in\Qv\iia AND eKiQv\iziv IN PAUL
I
Some of Bultmann's ideas have fundamentally influenced the direction
that the exegesis of Rom. 7.14-25 has taken in the course of the past
fifty years. After W.G. Kiimmel had shown convincingly that the pas-
sage describes neither Paul's personal experiences nor the situation of
the Christian,1 Bultmann provided its interpretation with a new exis-
tentialist accent.2 Even though his exegesis has not enjoyed the same
general acceptance as Kiimmel's main findings, it has still been
extremely influential well beyond the bounds of the Bultmann 'school'
itself.3 According to Bultmann, Rom. 7.15-20 does not describe a
1. W.G. Kummel, Romer 7 und die Bekehrung des Paulus (1929); reprinted in
Romer 7 und das Bild des Menschen im NT (1974). Even J.D.G. Dunn's recent
attempt ('Rom. 7.14-25 in the Theology of Paul', TZ 31 [1975], pp. 257ff.) to
refute Kummel and relate the description to the Christian is quite unconvincing. The
contrast between ch. 7 and ch. 6 on the one hand, and ch. 7 and ch. 8 on the other,
remains decisive. It is already an act of desperation when Dunn attempts to claim
ch. 8 also for the Christian: 'And in 8.4ff. Paul does not contrast believer with
unbeliever; rather, he confronts the believer with both sides of the paradox, both
sides of his nature as believer' ('Rom. 7.14-25', p. 263).
2. 'Romer 7 und die Anthropologie des Paulus', in Imago Dei (Festschrift
G. Kriiger; 1932), pp. 53ff.; reprinted in Exegetica (1967), pp. 198ff.; Theology of
the New Testament (trans. K. Grobel; 1955), I, pp. 247-48.
3. Cf., e.g., G. Bornkamm, Das Ende des Gesetzes (1966), pp. 62-63;
H. Braun, 'Romer 7,7-25 und das Selbstverstandnis des Qumran-Frommen', ZTK
56 (1959), p. 3; E. Kasemann, An die Romer (3rd edn; 1974), pp. 192-93, 195;
A. Sand, Der Begriff 'Fleisch' in den paulinischen Hauptbriefen (1967), p. 191;
V.P. Furnish, Theology and Ethics in Paul (1968), pp. 141-42; J. Jervell, Gud og
hansfiender (1973), pp. 122-23. Nothing shows the success of this exegesis better
than the fact that it turns up in the work of arigorouscritic of the Bultmannian overall
interpretation of Paul's doctrine of the law: E.P. Sanders, Paul and Palestinian
person's empirically perceptible inner conflict. The conflict is of a

'trans-subjective' type. A person desires what is 'good', that is, in
Bultmann's view, life, but actually 'achieves' only death (what is
'evil'). In this exegesis the central terms of the passage are interpreted
in a special way (the 'doing', the 'good' and the 'evil'), which has fre-
quently aroused serious misgivings.1 The criticism directed against
Bultmann in this respect seems fully justified. I shall not at this point,
however, go into the problems associated with the interpretation of
these words in further detail, but simply give somewhat closer consid-
eration to the real crux of Bultmann's argumentation, namely his
understanding of 'desire'. eTciGuincc is mentioned only in 7.7-8, but it
also dominates Bultmann's exegesis of the following section. The
commandment of the law leads, on account of the deception of sin, to
death, because it arouses eKiQx>\iia in him (vv. 7-11); 'In pursuing his
"desire" man thinks he is doing something good (i.e. life-bringing)
and actually is doing something evil (i.e. life-destroying)'.2
£K\Qx>\iia was at one time understood in entirely psychological
terms; in Rom. 7.7-8 a reference to the seductive power of forbidden
fruit was discerned (cf. Augustine).3 knxQv\i\a was taken to be a clear
inclination towards the transgression of the law. In response to this,
Bultmann writes:
It may be that in these verses (sc. vv. 7-11) Paul does not reflect over the
question whether 'desire' tempts man to transgress the Law or whether it
misleads him to a false zeal for fulfilling it. Yet the latter must at least be
included; for if 7.7-25 describes the situation of being under the Law in a
way that holds true for every one who is under it, then the attitude
(described in Phil. 3.4-6) of being 'blameless' 'as to righteousness under
the Law' must be contained in it. In this case, then, the 'desire' aroused
by the Law is the 'unenlightened zeal for God' of Rom. 10.2.4
Judaism (1977), p. 509. (See now, however, E.P. Sanders, Paul, the Law, and the
Jewish People [1983], pp. 89 n. 32 and 59 n. 77.)
1. Cf. W. Gutbrod, Die paulinische Anthropologie (1934), pp. 45-46;
P. Althaus, Paulus und Luther ilber den Menschen (4th edn; 1963), pp. 47ff.;
W. Schrage, Die konkreten Einzelgebote in der paulinischen Pardnese (1961),
pp. 195-96; O. Kuss, Der Romerbrief (2nd edn, 1963), I, p. 470.
2. Theology of the NT, p. 248.
3. See, e.g., H. Lietzmann, An die Romer (3rd edn, 1928), p. 73; Kiimmel,
Romer 7, p. 45.
4. Theology of the NT, pp. 247-48 (italics mine).
4. The Use ofe.KiQv\iia and tK\Qv\ielv in Paul 97
Bultmann thinks, then, to use Bornkamm's terms,1 that the

can be expressed both 'antinomistically' and 'nomistically'. In
Bultmann's further treatment of the problem of the law, the inxQx>\iia
in the nomistic sense seems in fact to suppress the other side.2
Bultmann supplies the key to his interpretation of Rom. 7.7-11
from outside the passage: it is to be found in Phil. 3.4-6 and Rom.
10.2. Bultmann is presupposing that Romans 7 is a well-thought-out
representation of Paul's anthropology—a description of the 'situation
under the law' which must be applicable to everyone who stands under
the law.3 There is good reason to doubt this. It can hardly be contested
that the primary subject of Rom. 7.7ff. is the problem of the law; the
commonly used rubric, 'apology for the law' is surely on the right
track.4 That this apologetic concern is not relinquished in favour of an
anthropological analysis in vv. 15ff. either is shown by the fact that
the passage leads into an emphatic definitive judgment of the role of
the law in the new situation (8.1-4). In 7.7-8.4 Paul wants to prove
two things: (1) the law is good; (2) it is powerless. It is this purpose
that is served by the description of the 'person in contradiction'
(7.15ff.).
It should be noticed that in another context—where the argument is
1. Bomkamm, Das Ende des Gesetzes, p. 55.

2. Bomkamm makes a similar slip; he first proceeds cautiously from the premise
that Paul 'leaves room' for a nomistic interpretation {Das Ende des Gesetzes, p. 55),
though he is 'primarily' thinking of concrete transgressions of the law. Kasemann,
building on Bultmann and Bomkamm, then thinks he can claim that ejuG'ou.ia for
Paul is not 'primarily' the intention of wicked transgression but 'seeking to assert
oneself against God and one's neighbour' (An die Romer, p. 186; cf. p. 189,
where he speaks of the 'desire for self-assertion, self-vaunting and pious
godlessness'). Bornkamm's interpretation was most recently adopted by H. Hubner
(Paulus und das Gesetz [1978], p. 65).
3. Cf. the express mention of 'anthropology' in the title of Bultmann's essay.
Bomkamm (Das Ende des Gesetzes, p. 51) began his 1950 essay with the words:
'That Rom. 7.7-25 concerns the human person is today contested by scarcely a
single (!) exegete'. It had often been disputed, however, that the subject of the pas-
sage lay in the realms of anthropology. Cf. Gutbrod, Anthropologies p. 46;
C. Maurer, Die Gesetzeslehre des Paulus (1941), pp. 44,48; Kiimmel, Das Bild des
Menschen im NT (1948), p. 34.
4. It would be even better to speak of an apology for the Pauline theology of the
law; correctly, Gutbrod, Anthropologie, p. 46. Both Bultmann ('Romer 7', p. 58)
and Bomkamm (Das Ende des Gesetzes, p. 53) also speak of an apology for the law.
clearly not concerned with anthropology—Paul makes general state-

ments about people (Rom. 1.18-32; 2.17-24) which from the point of
view of his argumentation ought to be of general validity (3.9, 23) but
cannot be so empirically. In 1.18-3.20 Paul wants to show that all,
Jews as well as Greeks, are 'under sin' (3.9, 20). But he only adduces
extreme examples for this—this is especially striking in the case of the
Jews—which demonstrate only that some (or many) have been guilty
of particularly grave sins.1 The possibility should therefore be left
open that the Romans 7 passage may also be a case of exaggerated
generalization.2
A sine qua non for Bultmann's exegesis of Romans 7 is of course
that the word inxQv\iia is philologically really capable of bearing a
'nomistic' meaning. (Naturally there is no question that when it is used
negatively the word usually has a clearly 'antinomistic' meaning.3) In
the previous chapter of his Theology Bultmann attempted to support
this in a few short word-studies. Let us look at these.
After stating in an earlier passage4 that Paul often uses in\Qv\iia
and ejciB-oîeTv in a qualified (bad) sense—which is itself unobjection-
able—Bultmann returns in the chapter 'Flesh and Sin' (§23) to
e7ci9-o|i{a. Here he deals with the use of verbs with which Paul
describes the 'specifically human attitude'. Characteristic of this
attitude, he claims, is 'apostasy from God' and turning to the creation
1. For further detail see Raisanen, Paul and the Law (1983), pp. 97ff.
2. This could be a basis for answering Bultmann's question, who objected to the
usual exposition of Rom. 7.15ff.:
In order to carry it through must one not reduce the npdooew of the KOIKOV to one
thing: not fully, not constantly to fulfil the law, while it is surely quite clear that a
fundamentally wrong action per se is meant? ('Romer 7', p. 54).
No, one does not have to do this if sufficient account is taken of the fact that Paul can
also paint a black picture when he speaks of the non-Christian's inability to fulfil the
demands of the law. In 1932 Bultmann also referred to Rom. 7.6 ('Romer 7',
pp. 59-60): that Paul in 7.7-8 has 'observance of the law' as such in mind is shown
by v. 6, where the subject is liberation from the 'observance of the law as such'. But
I cannot see why this should determine the meaning of ejciG'ou.ia in 7.7-8. Would
Bultmann want also to interpret the 7c<x0r|(i<XTa twv au-apTtcov in v. 5, which he
correctly identifies with the epithymia ('Romer 7', p. 59), as zeal for the law?
3. For an overview concerning the usage, see the article by F. Biichsel, TWNT,
III, pp. 168ff.
4. Theology of the NT, pp. 224-25.
4. The Use of£KiQ-o\iia and erci6\)U£iv in Paul 99
and to one's own strength; it is a matter of the individual's 'self-reliant

attitude'. 1 The previously discussed use of £KiQv\ieiv in a qualified
sense also is concerned with the description of this behaviour.
e7ci0-o|ieiv is rendered by 'self-reliant pursuit of one's own ends'. The
same attitude is expressed by uxpijivav, KCtt)%aa6ai and KenoiQevax
ev aapid; it finds expression also in human fear.2 Rom. 7.9 is then
interpreted as follows: 'In his self-reliant will to be himself, a will that
comes to light in "desire" at the encounter with the "commandment",
he loses his self, and "sin" becomes the active subject within him'. 3 In
his &KiQx>\L\a a person wants to realize his being himself in his own
strength (and thus loses it). In the synthetic part of his 'theology of
desire', Bultmann therefore does not show the same caution as he does
in the exegesis of Romans 7 a few pages later. This strengthens the
impression that his interpretation is indeed controlled completely by
the nomistic understanding of €7u9i)u,{a.
The finding that eTciGuiLua means 'self-reliant pursuit of one's own
ends' (with strong nomistic connotations) is, however, arrived at by
means of a strange sorites. Briefly, the thinking seems to be as follows:
1. The sinful knxQv\iia has its seat in the adp£ (Gal. 5.16-17,
24; cf. Rom. 6.12; 13.14), and thus it is an expression of an
'attitude of flesh'.4
2. The 'fleshly attitude or conduct', however, 'need not be
immoral conduct; rather, it may consist of normal human
affairs', when these are a uepivav xo\> KOG\LOX) (1 Cor.
7.29ff.)5
3. 'To the category of conduct "according to the flesh" belongs
above all zealous fulfillment of the Torah' (Gal. 3.3 adpKi
e7cixeXeia9e; cf. Phil. 3.3-7).6
4. Thus, the inxQviiia has its home in the a&p£ and the fleshly
conduct consists above all7 in the zealous observance of the

2. Theology of the NT, pp. 241 -46.
3. Theology of the NT, p 245.
7. Whether the * above all' sets the correct emphasis is not of course beyond all
doubt.
law; therefore the zealous observance of the law must be

contained in the tKiQv\iia\ This is a glaring non sequitur. If
A and B are both included in C, it certainly does not, of
course, follow that B must be included in A. But Bultmann
offers no other evidence.
Bultmann has therefore not succeeded in proving that the sine qua non
for his exegesis does in fact exist. To be able to maintain his interpre-
tation one would have to show, by means of a separate exegetical
analysis of the context in each case, that iniQv\i\a can really have the
'nomistic' meaning of self-reliance and self-assertion. This has yet to
be tested. It will first be necessary, however, to collect and discuss
some observations on the 'nomistic' exegesis of Rom. 7.7ff.
II
If one follows Bultmann in taking £,n\Qx>\L{a nomistically in Rom. 7.7-
8, it is usual to find that certain other interpretations intended to
support the nomistic exegesis are linked with it.
1. 'Desire' is identified with 'sin'. xt|v aiiapxiav O\>K eyvcov and zr\v
€,n\Qx>\iiav O\>K $8eiv thus describe essentially the same thing. The
admittedly more concrete expression tn\Qx>\iia embraces 'the nature
of sin';1 it can even be claimed that a|xapx(a and tK\Qx)\i{a
'are completely identical in meaning'—'sin is defined as desire'.2
Desire is 'altogether the basic sin'.3 Correspondingly, the biblical
commandment O\>K kniQv\ir[ceiq (v. 7) can be taken as a forceful
summary of the law.4
In Rom. 13.9, however, Paul cites the (tenth) commandment, 'Thou
shalt not covet', as one commandment among others. The natural
thing is to understand it in a similar sense in 7.7. What Paul says in
more detail about the kniQ\)\iia here would then be an example5 or a
1. Bornkamm, Das Ende des Gesetzes, pp. 54-55; he is followed by

E. Brandenburger, Adam und Christus (1962), p. 207.
2. U. Mauser, Gottesbild und Menschwerdung (1972), pp. 155-56.
4. Bornkamm, Das Ende des Gesetzes, p. 55; Kasemann, An die Romer,
p. 186; Mauser, Gottesbild, p. 156.
5. W. Sanday and A.C. Headlam, The Epistle to the Romans (repr. 1905),
4. The Use ofen\Qv]iia and erciGDjieTv in Paul 101
special case1 of what was previously said in general terms concerning

sin. The choice of precisely this example is then well suited to illus-
trate the fatal role of the law (in Paul's thinking) in bringing sin
about. For the Jewish view was that desire was the source of all
(active) sins (see below). In the psychological sense it can be described
as the 'basic sin' from which all other sins can follow. Bultmann's
followers, however, are not at all content with such a formulation.
But their equation of desire with sin as such seems decidedly risky.
2. rcaaccv £7ci9\)[i{av (v. 8), furthermore, is understood specifically as

'desire per se', 'the will to assert oneself or 'zest for life'; the
expression is also claimed to include the sense of 'desire for the
good'.2 The only argument Bornkamm is able to cite in support is the
observation that Paul mentions only £7u0i)uia as the mark of the
effects of sin in a person, 'and not the material wickedness of deeds';
here he clearly leaves open the possibility of the nomistic interpreta-
tion.3 But this at least creates no obstacle for a purely antinomistic
understanding: it is tacitly assumed, of course, that rcaaa eTciO'uuia
was not 'without consequences' but that in practice the arousal of
desires led to all kinds of concrete sinful deeds. This understanding is
all the more illuminating when Paul has just mentioned (7.5) the
TtaGrmata xcov auxxpxicov (both in the plural!) as the product of the
law. It is quite forced to take 'any kind of desire' in v. 8 as anything
other than 'the sinful passions' (Kasemann) of v. 5.4 Nothing in the
context points to another explanation of ETUGDUAOC in v. 8.5 The
attributive modifier KOLGOL is certainly not suited to expressing a
p. 179; C.E.B. Cranfield, The Epistle to the Romans (1975), I, p. 349.

1. Kummel, Romer 7, pp. 43, 47.
2. Bornkamm, Das Ende des Gesetzes, p. 55. The expression used here, 'the
desire for good', is derived from E. Fuchs, Die Freiheit des Glaubens (1949), p. 57.
The succinct interpretation is taken by P. von der Osten-Sacken {Romer 8 als
Beispiel paulinischer Soteriologie [1975], p. 204), to its absurd conclusion: The Ego
'desires not to desire; it wants not to desire, but precisely in wanting this it has
transgressed the law, which says: Thou shalt not covet. The Ego is willing, but this
desire is itself missing the mark.'
3. Cf. Bultmann, 'Romer 7', p. 59.
4. The terms are identified also by Bultmann ('Romer 7', p. 59), who does not
discuss the consequences of this equation.
5. Not even w . 10b-11; against Kasemann, An die Romer\ p. 186.
concentration on the essence of desire 'per se'; rather it describes the

colourful spectrum of manifestations of desire.
3. In this context it is common to refer to the absolute usage of

eTtiG'ouîv in v. 7, in which a radicalization of the tenth commandment
can be discerned.1 Further reference is made to Jewish models which
present the same radical understanding prior to or alongside Paul.2
Everything depends, of course, on what one understands by radical-
ization. If one means that desire was regarded psychologically as the
root and source of all sins, there can be no objection; Philo and also
Targum Neofiti express this clearly. If one interprets Paul from the
point of view of these Jewish texts, then in Romans 7 we have more or
less the Jewish teaching of the evil inclination.3 The omission of all
objects of 'desire' in this case means most naturally that all possible
'antinomistic' objects come into question (the Jewish texts cited of
course at least say this).4
What has been attempted, however, is to derive the supposed
Pauline understanding of desire from this Jewish radicalization of the
tenth commandment. The first step in such a process can be observed
in Lyonnet, the second—the true Bultmannian step—in Mauser.
a. The first step consists in a jump from the understanding of desire
as 'source of all disaster' to the statement that the desirer wants, like
Adam, to 'substitute his ways for those of God'. 5 The former is a
good Jewish statement which Lyonnet documents quite properly from
1. Mauser, Gottesbild, p. 157; Htibner, Paulus und das Gesetz, p. 64;

S. Lyonnet, ' "Tu ne convoiteras pas" (Rom. VII7)', in Neotestamentica et Patristica
(Festschrift O. Cullmann; 1962), p. 158.
2. The standard examples can be found for example in Kasemann, An die Romer,
p. 186: 4 Mace. 2.6; Vita Adae 19; Philo, Dec. 142, 150, 173. Lyonnet ('"Tu ne
convoiteras pas"', pp. 16Iff.) adds Sab. 145b-146a and Targum Neofiti on the tenth
commandment and on the Eden narrative; 'L'histoire du salut selon le chapitre VII de
l'epitre aux Romains', Bib 43 (1962), pp. 145-46; cf. also Les etapes du mystire du
salut selon Vipitre aux Romains (1969), pp. 128ff. On the Jewish background, see
further K. Berger, Die Gesetzesauslegung Jesu (1972), I, pp. 346ff.
3. Cf. O. Michel, Der Brief an die Romer (12th edn, 1963), p. 172; similarly
F. Mussner, Der Galaterbrief(\914\ p. 375, on Gal. 5.16.
4. It is furthermore possible that 4 Mace. 2.6 is concerned only with a simple
abbreviation of the tenth commandment (which was mentioned in the previous
verse). Nor can this possibility be ruled out in the case of Rom. 7.7.
5. * "Tu ne convoiteras pas"', pp. 159, 161.
4. The Use of£n\Qx>\iia and iKiQx>\Leiv in Paul 103
Targ. Exod. 20.17 and Deut. 5.21. He arrives at the latter, however,
only with the help of an overinterpretation of Numbers 11 and of the
targumic version of the story of the fall.
Numbers 11 is important for Lyonnet because Paul in 1 Corinthians
10 recalls the events described in that passage, using the expressions
e7ci0DUT|Ta! (KGCKCOV) and £fl£0\)UT|aav taken from Num. 11.4, 34
(see below). According to Lyonnet the OT already gave the episode
concerned, from the time of the wandering in the wilderness, 'a
special significance'. Israel, it says, despises the food that Yahweh has
provided and demands Egyptian food instead. Israel
prefers meat of her own choice (Num. 11.4-6). . .she refuses to bend
herself to what, in God's thoughts, was to constitute the spiritual
experience of the desert (Deut. 8.3; cf. Mt 4.4); in fact, like Adam she
wants to substitute her ways to those of God.1
The text cannot support this construction. The emphasis on Israel's

'own choice' and its own ways, which gives Lyonnet's discussion a
tone reminiscent of Bultmann's 'self-reliance', is completely imported.2
The people simply lust after better fare, after meat. Finally, those of
the people who gave in to desire were killed; even if there were many
of them, they were still obviously only a minority. But the mis-
demeanor of a minority, to which they were seduced by the lusts of
the non-Israelite 'rabble', is not particularly well suited for succinctly
expressing the essence of sin itself.3 This sin is a far cry from
'wanting to be like God'.
The Eden narrative yields even less for Lyonnet. That the root hmd
occurs in the description of the tree in Gen. 3.6 (also in the Targum)
is of little consequence. Rabbinic tradition relates that desire was
implanted in Eve by the serpent; desire, however, as Lyonnet himself
acknowledges, has a clearly sexual meaning. The idea of eritis sicut
deus is quite incidental. Indeed, Judaism seems not to have capitalized
at all on the hubris motif in the Eden account4 (assuming that such a
1. * "Tu ne convoiteras pas"', pp. 160-61 (emphasis mine).

2. There is no hint of a theologically imbued understanding of the lusts in
Targum Neofiti on Num. 11 either.
3. According to M. Noth, underlying the narrative originally is indeed the
attempt to give an (artificial) explanation for the proper name kibrot hat-ta'awah (Das
vierte Buch Mose [1966], p. 76).
4. The genuinely midrashic information in Gen. R. 19 A that in a fit of jealousy
motif is present there1). Targum Neofiti, which Lyonnet is so quick to

cite, has entirely suppressed the motif of equality with God and has
the serpent say only: 'you will be as angels before God'. Significantly,
Lyonnet does not mention the thought of equality with God in
connection with the Eden account, but brings it in only in his
treatment of Romans 7 2 —though for the very reason that in his
opinion this text clearly refers to Genesis 2 - 3 . Whether this presup-
position is appropriate need not be decided at this point; in recent
literature on Romans 7 it is in any case common. 3 It must, however,
be said that it is wrong to suppose that an allusion to the Eden narra-
tive would necessarily imply also a tacit reference to the sin of want-
ing to be like God. The connection might be obvious to us, but it did
not have to be so for a Jew. And it is precisely upon what Paul had in
common with other Jews that Lyonnet wants to build.4
b. Mauser refers even more impressively to the Eden story. He aims
to build further on Lyonnet's discussion. The Pauline O\>K ETCI-
Guinjoeiq as a summary of the law reminds him of Gen. 2.17 because
the serpent filled Eve with (sexual!) desire and because the Targums
identify the Tree of Life with the law; 5 this tree (sic) was now,
according to Mauser, the object of Eve's desire. 'What the summary
of the law in the prohibition OUK EK\Qv\ir\G£\q means, then, is this: it
God could not tolerate that a human being should also create worlds 'like God', can
hardly be regarded in this sense! Cf. the similar passages in Str-B, I, p. 138, IV,
p. 747. Where the sin of hubris is dealt with in rabbinic literature, a link is drawn
with other biblical passages: the fall of the angels (Gen. 6), the regulations against
theft (Lev. 5.21), the words of the impious (Job 21.14-15); the behaviour of notori-
ous sinners like the generation of the Flood, the Sodomites, Rehoboam, etc. See
A. Buchler, Studies in Sin and Atonement in the Rabbinic Literature of the First
Century (1939), pp. 107ff.; S. Schechter, Some Aspects of Rabbinic Theology
(1909), pp. 219ff. ('Sin as Rebellion').
1. Critical on this point is O. Loretz, Schopfung und Mythos (1969), pp. 11 If.
Ezek. 28 speaks of the pride of the earliest people in a symbolic accusation of the
king of Tyre. In the application of the text, however, the subject is the particular sin
of a foreign ruler and quite clearly not sin itself, the sin of 'everyman' (against
W. Zimmerli, Ezechiel [1969], p. 689).
2. ' "Tu ne convoiteras pas"', p. 164.
3. See, e.g., Kasemann, An die Romer, p. 188.
4. Cf. " T u n e convoiteras pas'", p. 158.
5. So Targum Neofiti on Gen. 3.24 (Lyonnet, ' "Tu ne convoiieras pas'",
p. 163, cites 3.23).
4. The Use ofenxQviiia and £7ci0\)î£Tv in Paul 105
is opposed to man's attempt to make himself equal with God.' The law
exposes 'the will towards equality with God' as the kernel of sin.1
This construction, which is forced enough as it is, is only the first
step! Mauser is not content to stop here. For
Paul has stated often enough elsewhere in his letters where he saw the
misuse of the law. We are in a position to inferfromthis what he regarded
concretely as the attempt to deceive one's way into the position of God.
As Bultmann is supposed to have shown, 'the Jew who insists on the
law is, in his fulfilment of the law, aiming for fame before God and
man', while the law is 'conceived as the instrument of the need for
validation'. 2 Conclusion: eTuGuuia = nomistic use of the law as the
instrument of the need for validation.
On this view, Paul (1) followed the current Jewish radicalization of
the tenth commandment, (2) alluded to the Jewish understanding of
the Eden narrative and (3) drastically reinterpreted the understanding
of desire in this narrative. All this can be discerned from the omission
of the object of desire in the tenth commandment. Let whoever can do
so, believe this!
From the presentation of desire as the source of all sins, the identi-
fication of desire with the will towards equality with God does not
follow, still less its identification with zeal for the law. Such equations
can only be arrived at by elaborately contrived constructions.
In my discussion thus far I have not yet shown that a nomistic
understanding of enxQv\iia would be impossible in Romans 7. On the
other hand I hope to have shown that nothing in this passage itself
indicates such an understanding, or at least, that the arguments cited in
support are not capable of bearing the weight of proof placed upon
them. If one still wished to interpret the passage along these lines one
would have to produce strong arguments for a nomistic understanding
of ejciGuuia from other places where the word occurs. The following
overview will attempt to show whether such a task is achievable.
1. Mauser, Gottesbild, p. 157.

2. Gottesbild, p. 158. For the purposes of the questions I am raising at this
point it is not important whether Bultmann has correctly interpreted the Pauline
critique of the law (which, with A. van Dulmen and E.P. Sanders, I would dispute).
Cf. A. van Dulmen, Die Theologie des Gesetzes bei Paulus (1968), esp. pp. 248ff.;
Sanders, Paul and Palestinian Judaism, pp. 442ff., 48 Iff.
III
Rom. 1.24: 816rcapeScoicevonaxoix; 6 Geoq ev xaiq zn\§x>\L\a\q xcov
Kap8icov a\)xcov eiq &Ka9apa{av... Here desires are spoken of in
the plural. Their consequence is ccKaGocpaia, which is concretized in
sexual, especially homosexual, sins as * defilement of the body'. In v.
26 the term 7ca0T| is used, also in the plural, as a parallel expression,1
and in connection with the qualitative genitive axiuiccc;. In v. 28,
meanwhile, we have the expression xoc UT| KOC6T|KOVX(X, the manifes-
tations of which are listed in garish colours in the catalogue of vices in
vv. 29-31. There can be no doubt that ZK\Qv\iiax in this context means
'antinomistic' desires.
Interestingly, Bultmann remarks on this passage: 'The evil "desires
of the heart" are the desires of such as have turned to the worship of
creation'. 2 This is perfectly apt, per se. But in the context—in a
passage which serves to draw parallels between in\Qx>\iexv and
KocuxaaGoti and so forth (see above)—the sentence tacitly suggests to
the reader that the word eiuQviiia in Paul bears the connotation of
'worship of the creation'. This then contributes to Bultmann's ability
finally to paraphrase ETCIG-UUXIV with the expression 'self-reliant
pursuit'.3
The context certainly speaks of people rejecting the true God and
turning to idols. But this does not mean that every word used is neces-
sarily somehow associated with the semantic component 'rebellion
against the creator', which could be connoted elsewhere in instances of
the same word.4 Such exegesis works by the associative semantic
1. Cf. 7ia0o<; e7u9\)|iia(;, 1 Thess. 4.5; the sequence veKpcooaxe. ..

dmGapoiav, 7cd0oq, £7U0\)jj.iav KCCKTIV, Col. 3.5; also TcaGrijiaTa, Rom. 7.5;
Gal. 5.24.
2. Theology of the NT, p. 241 (emphasis mine).
3. Cf. also Kasemann, An die Romer, p. 44: the will 'expresses itself now in
£7110-0uicu as the always self-seeking desire. . .' (emphasis mine). See below on
6.12.
4. Cf. the procedure followed by C.K. Barrett, The Epistle to the Romans
(1957), p. 141 (on 7.7): desire without an object means 'that exaltation of the ego
which we have seen to be of the essence of sin'; here Barrett indicates his exposition
of 1.21 and 5.12, where sin is described as 'rebellion'. It seems that the word
£7ci0vu.(a has been charged with the nuance of 'rebellion' taken from 1.18ff. In spite
of this Barrett interprets the 'desires' in 1.24 as 'sexual passions' (Romans, p. 38)!
4. The Use ofin\Qv\iia and in\Q\)\itiv in Paul 107
procedure that James Barr was right to attack in his well-known

work.1 It is true that the dowexog K<xp8{a and the idle 8iaXoyiap.o{
of men are seen as the roots of idolatry, and doubtless the in\Qv[i{ai
were present both before and during the fall (the punishment is that
from then on man is helplessly at their mercy). But it certainly does
not follow that the idea that man wants to be his own master is a firm
semantic component of the word eKiQv\L\ai.2 The same would then
also have to apply to the TC&0T| dxiîiag; so too to the 8iaA,OYia|io{.
But it will not occur to anyone to claim that Rom. 14.1 or Phil. 2.14
speaks of a rebellion against the creator in view of the fact that
8iaXoyia|io{ are spoken of there. A nomistic understanding of 7.7-8
cannot be built upon Rom. 1.24.3
Rom. 6.12: [LT\ OVV (iaaiê'oeTco J\ aîapxia ev TS 0VT|T(p v\i&v

acbp.au eiq TO hnaKOveiv xaiq iniQ\>\iia\q a\)TO\>... Here, too,
'desires' are spoken of in the plural. This fact alone should give the
nomistic interpreters food for thought.4 Nonetheless, Kasemann
maintains that &K\Qx>\L\ai 'should not be understood in a psychologiz-
ing manner as simply sensual or immoral motivations'. 'In line with
the apostle's profound anthropology, the thought is rather of what
links us, in our reality, with the rest of creation and seduces us to
willful self-assertion... '5 Besides the plural form, the whole context
speaks quite decisively against this. aSuda (v. 13a), dmGapcna and
dvop-ia (v. 19b) occur as parallel terms to £7ci8a)^{ai. And the point
of departure for the apostle's discussion consists in the accusation that
the Pauline doctrine of justification leads to libertinism (v. I).6
1. The Semantics of Biblical Language (1961).

2. In context, moreover, it is rather a matter of false dependence than of striving
for independence. Man does not attempt to worship himself as God!
3. Even if one should succeed somehow in establishing a connection with
Veneration of creation' as a constant semantic component of ejciGvuia, one would
still be far from arriving at the meaning 'zeal for the law'.
4. In view of the plural Mauser (Gottesbild, p. 156 n. 109) concedes that the
word is not used here in a 'sense striving for the root of sin'; according to him, the
same applies to Rom. 13.14 and Gal. 5.24.
5. An die Romer, p. 169 (emphasis mine). Kasemann cites Bornkamm (Das
Ende des Gesetzes, p. 46) in support, who speaks of 'self-reliant impulses',
without, however, exegetical justification.
6. So also Kasemann, An die Romer, p. 157.
It is only natural that Paul encounters such an accusation when he

emphasizes that the 'antinomistic' desires should be abandoned by
Christians in baptism. If the desires are to be understood nomistically,
then v. 15 would have to be paraphrased along the following lines:
'Should we glory in our works, since we are not under the law but
under grace? Never!' This makes no sense, of course, least of all as an
answer to the accusation of libertinism. A nomistic understanding of
'desires' can only be imported into the text from outside; significantly
Kasemann must fall back heavily on the 'apostle's profound
anthropology'.
An almost imperceptible shift of ideas seems to have taken place
here, caused by the introduction of terms such as 'willfulness'
(Eigenwille) and 'self-assertion'. One can certainly say that whoever
offends against sexual morality, for example, or takes possession of
other people's property, is acting 'willfully'. But such terms as
eigenmdchtig ('willful', also 'self-reliant') in Bultmann's vocabulary
and that of his school (and not only for them) have unmistakably
nomistic connotations—it is here that the shift occurs. In this way
poor morality can be tacitly reinterpreted as a heroic nomism. It is
clear that Rom. 6.12 does not commend itself as a support for a
nomistic exposition of 7.7-8.
Rom. 13.9. Here, as in 7.7, we encounter the tenth commandment in

the abbreviated form OUK en\Qx)\ir]Gti<;. It is not, however, introduced
as a summary of the prohibitions of the law, but as a single example
of its commandments. A nomistic understanding of 7.7-8 cannot be
justified from this.
Rom. 13.14: KOC! %r\<; oapxoq rcpovoiav \n\ rcoieioOe ziq i

Again 'desires' are spoken of in the plural.1 While in 6.12 their home
is named as the ocouxx, this time it is the aap£. Kasemann does not
attempt a nomistic exegesis here either, but speaks simply of 'lusts'. 2 It
is not clear, however, why the desires of the body in 6.12 should be
understood differently. The eTuOvuiai are concretized in v. 13 in a
1. The reading eiq erci9\)u.iav is, however, found in Q46 A C pc. If it is original
(in which case it would be regarded as a lectio difficilior), this would be remarkable
because here at least ejciOuuia is surely meant antinomistically.
2. An die Romer, p. 351.
4. The Use of k.K\Q\)\L{a and erci0Dêiv in Paul 109
list of vices (cf. 1.29-31): gluttony, heavy drinking, lusts, perversions,

dissension, argumentativeness. This corresponds in its essentials with
the longer catalogue in Gal. 5.16ff., where the en\Qv\iia aapicoq is
similarly described as the root of the vices.
1 Cor. 10.6: eiq TO jifj eivoci i\\iaq inxQviiriTac, KOCKSV, KCCGGX;

KotKeTvoi e7ce8a)|iitiaav. Great emphasis is laid on this verse in the
nomistic exegesis.1 It is cited as the primary argument for the pur-
portedly nomistic usage of £.nxQv\iia outside Romans 7. Thus Mauser,
following Lyonnet, argues particularly strongly that e,K\Qv\iia is
probably an 'overall term for the list of individual shortcomings of
the Israelites in the wilderness'; here Paul wants to collect 'the essence
of sin' into a general concept.
It may be doubted whether e7ce9i5[ir|aav in v. 6 is meant as an
'overall term' for the shortcomings listed in vv. 7-10. First of all,
both tK\Qx)\n\Tai and £TC£0I)|J,TIG(XV are derived from the LXX.
Secondly, \n\Se in v. 7 is hardly suited for the introduction of a state-
ment in which what was previously summarized is now to be dis-
mantled.2 HT|8£ £i8coA,oA,dTpai y{v£a0£ scarcely means 'therefore do
not become idolaters' but, continuing the idea, 'and do not become
idolaters either'. One should neither entertain lusts nor indulge in
idolatry and so forth. Lust appears to have been presented as one sin
amongst others.3
But let us assume that iniQv\ieiv should be taken as an 'overall
term'. What would then be the gain for the matter of the nomistic
exegesis? Nothing at all. The shortcomings listed in vv. 7-10, which
would then be various manifestations of £7U0I)|A{(X, are in fact: idola-
try (where Paul is thinking of the Corinthians' participation in
1. Bornkamm, Das Ende des Gesetzes, p. 55 n. 7; Mauser, Gottesbild, p. 156;

Kasemann, An die Romer, p. 186. According to Lyonnet also, who does not deal
with the actually nomistic problem, this passage shows that for Paul desire is *le
peche par excellence' ('"Tu ne convoiteras pas'", p. 160; 'L'histoire du salut',
p. 144). Mauser and Kasemann rely mainly on him.
2. A.T. Robertson and A. Plummer (The First Epistle to the Corinthians [ 1891],
p. 203) think, it is true, that the particle should not be taken in its usual sense: The
(xr|8e is not logical; it puts a species on a level with its genus. Lusting after evil
things is the class, of which idolatry and fornication are instances. . . '
3. J. Hering (La primiere ipitre awe Corinthiens [1949], p. 81) calls it, in the
light of the context, *convoitise alimentaire'.
sacrificial meals as potential worship of other gods1), whoremonger-

ing, tempting God, grumbling. Both in the light of the OT narrative
(see above) and in the light of the Corinthian situation these are
clearly awrmomistic faults.2 To zn\§\)\v(\%a^ Paul then adds the geni-
tive object KOCKCOV (from outside the LXX!); it seems appropriate to
supply the same as the object of the verb erciO'DH.eiv,3 which is seem-
ingly being used absolutely.4 In the context the subject is the rejection
of an ethical indifference which could link up with the magical
sacramentalism of some of the Corinthians. For the Corinthians there
was scarcely any nomistic temptation! 1 Cor. 10.6, then, does not
offer any basis for a nomistic understanding of in\Qx>\Lia.
Gal. 5.16: 7cve\)|xaxi TcepiTcaxeixe m l erciGvinav aapKog o\) |if|

TeAianxe. What is meant by the 'desire' of the flesh can be seen from
the catalogue of the 'works of the flesh' in vv. 19-21. These works are
obviously anrniomistic. 5 One might compare Rom. 13.13-14 (see
above). Gal. 5.24 is on the same lines, where the rca0f|p,axa and
ETciO'un.iai of the flesh are presented in parallel. Gal. 5.17 speaks of
two kinds of 'desiring': that of the flesh and that of the spirit. Here
1. Cf. Hering, Corinthiens, ad loc.

2. Robertson and Plummer (see above p. 109 n. 2), who understand &KiQx>\iia
here as an overall concept, thus draw no profound conclusions from this. £7ci6\)U.ia
is 'lusting after evil things'; 'Longing for past heathen pleasures may be meant'.
Similarly, J. Weiss, Der erste Korintherbrief (1910), p. 252 n. 2, who seeks in
£7uO\)(ila the basis for the other sins that are mentioned.
3. Admitted by Bultmann (Theology, p. 224).
4. Lyonnet (' "Tu ne convoiteras pas"', p. 160) attaches great importance to the
absoluteness.
5. Against van Diilmen, Die Theologie des Gesetzes, p. 61: both 'new enslave-
ment under the law' and 'a libertine use of freedom' are to be understood from
£7ii9\)u.{a aapKo<;. Only the latter is intended; thus, rightly, Mussner (Galaterbrief,
p. 375). Mauser (Gottesbild, p. 156) thinks that walking in the spirit and the
ejuOvuia oapicoq are contrasted with each other, and concludes:
Just as nvev)jj.a does not mean a single aspect of being a Christian but its centre, so
too eiuGuuaa in this passage is not a demand directed to a particular object but the
heart of sin itself: flesh is flesh, because it desires.
This comparison is quite skewed. As v. 17 shows, the opposite of rcv£$u.a

(naturally!) is not eici0\)u.ia but adp£. The 'heart of sin' cannot be designated by
Eju&uuia, because even thercve\>u.acan 'desire' (v. 17!). In addition, Mauser him-
self (n. 109) correctly states that 5.24 is dealing with 'concrete forms of desire'.
4. The Use fl/emO-unia and erciG'un.eiv in Paul 111
Paul has the 'works' of the flesh (vv. 19-21) and the 'fruit' of the
spirit (v. 22) in view; it is a matter of living life badly or well. The
whole context of v. 13 onwards can be described as anti-libertine;1 cf.
especially v. 25, ei ^Sîev 7cvet>âii, %vt\}\L<xx\ KCCI axoixSîev. The
polemical position on the law, which dominates the discussion in 2.11-
5.12, does come to the fore also in the comments in 5.18, 23. This
does not, however, offer any justification for a nomistic understanding
of the £7uGD|i{a aapic6<;. Rather, the apostle indicates that, paradoxi-
cally, under the law only 'antinomistic' works of the flesh are
effected. Life in the spirit, in ethical respects also, extends high above
life under the law (cf. Rom. 8.4).
There remains only 1 Thess. 4.5: one should not take one's wife ev
TtdGei eniQviiiac, as the heathen do. jcopveia (v. 3) and dicaGapona
(v. 7) are placed next to TT&GOQ eKiQv\iia<;; the opposites are
ayiaaixoq (vv. 3, 4, 7) and xijxri (v. 3). It would be absurd to seek a
nomistic meaning for ejciGDjiia here.
Results
Outside Romans 7 there is nothing to demand—nor yet to justify—
a nomistic view of iK\Qx>\L\a in that passage. As in all other passages,
in Rom. 7.7-8 the natural understanding is the 'antinomistic' one.
The Bultmannian interpretation is evidently rooted in Lutheran-
existentialist systematics.2 In the exegesis of individual passages this
attempted approach can only be carried through by means of an
opaque, associative procedure.
1. This does not mean that W. Liitgert's thesis that Paul was waging a war on
two fronts in Galatia should be accepted. The apostle defends himself in 5.13ff.
against false conclusions from his doctrine of salvation.
2. On Luther's equation of concupiscentia with superbia, see Althaus, Paulus
und Luther, pp. 92-93; see also the comparison of Paul with Luther, Paulus und
Luther, pp. 85ff.
Chapter 5
GALATIANS 2.16 AND PAUL'S BREAK WITH JUDAISM
In his Manson Memorial Lecture for 19821 James Dunn credits

E.P. Sanders2 with 'breaking the mould of Pauline studies' and giving
us 'what amounts to a new perspective on Paul' not least by showing
that the traditional Christian picture of Judaism is 'fundamentally
mistaken'. 3 Dunn agrees with Sanders's characterization of ancient
Palestinian Judaism as 'covenantal nomism', in the framework of
which Israel's covenant relationship with God was basic:
. .. obedience to the law in Judaism was never thought of as a means of
entering the covenant, of attaining that special relationship with God; it
was more a matter of maintaining the covenant relationship with God.4
While thus agreeing with Sanders's picture of Palestinian Judaism,
Dunn disagrees with his interpretation of Paul. Dunn suggests that
Sanders 'has failed to take the opportunity his own mould-breaking
work offered', erroneously remaining 'more impressed by the
difference between Paul's pattern of religious thought and that of
contemporary Judaism' than by their fundamental similarity.5 Dunn
criticizes Sanders's view that Paul changed 'entire systems' which
leaves us (in Dunn's view) with
an idiosyncratic Paul who in arbitrary and irrational manner turns his face
against the glory and greatness of Judaism's covenant theology and
abandons Judaism simply because it is not Christianity
1. J.D.G. Dunn, The New Perspective on Paul', BJRL 65 (1983), pp. 95-122.
2. Paul and Palestinian Judaism: A Comparison of Patterns of Religion
(London, 1977).
3. Dunn, 'Perspective on Paul', p. 97.
4. 'Perspective on Paul', p. 99, with reference to Sanders, Paul and Palestinian
Judaism, pp. 75, 420, 544.
5. 'Perspective on Paul', p. 100.
5. Galatians 2.16 and Paul's Break with Judaism 113
making an 'arbitrary jump from one "system" to another'.1 And in his

new book on Paul2 Sanders 'speaks of Paul breaking with the law' and
has Paul making an arbitrary jump from one system to another and posing
an antithesis between faith in Christ and his Jewish heritage in such sharp,
black-and-white terms, that Paul's occasional defence of Jewish preroga-
tive (as in Rom. 9.4-6) seems equally arbitrary and bewildering, his
treatment of the law and of its place in God's purpose becomes inconsis-
tent and illogical, and we are left with an abrupt discontinuity between the
new movement centred in Jesus and the religion of Israel which makes
little sense in particular of Paul's olive tree allegory in Rom. II. 3
Sanders's Paul 'could have made little sense to his fellow Jews', and
his 'stated willingness to observe the law' (1 Cor. 9.19-23) 'must have
sounded like the most blatant self-contradiction'.4 In Dunn's view,
Sanders argues for 'such an arbitrary and abrupt discontinuity' that
'Sanders' Paul hardly seems to be addressing Sanders' Judaism', 5
being indeed 'out of touch with his first-century context'.6 It should be
noted,, however, that the frequent pejorative adjectives in the above
quotations ('arbitrary' occurs no less than five times!) do not reflect
Sanders's own language, nor is the talk of 'abrupt discontinuity'
(much less the idea of being 'out of touch') an accurate description of
his position. Sanders does acknowledge a considerable amount of
continuity,7 but this does not prevent him from seeing Paul engaged in
a frontal attack against fundamentals of Judaism as well.
Dunn attempts to sketch 'a much more coherent and consistent
reconstruction of the continuities and discontinuities between Paul and
Palestinian Judaism'. 8 He does this by focusing on just one verse,
namely Gal. 2.16. He identifies the 'works of the law' denounced in

2. E.P. Sanders, Paul, the Law, and the Jewish People (Philadelphia, 1983).
6. 'Perspective on Paul', p. 119. It also seems as if Dunn has ascribed (p. 119)
to Sanders the view that Paul misunderstood Judaism. This is not at all the case; on
the contrary, Sanders takes issue with those who hold such a view. See Paul and
Palestinian Judaism, pp. 496, 549-51.
7. Cf., e.g., his remarks on W.D. Davies's work in Paul and Palestinian
Judaism, p. 11.
v. 16a with 'covenant works' or 'identity markers' such as circumci-

sion and the food laws, which were 'widely regarded as characteristi-
cally and distinctively Jewish'.1 Somewhat surprisingly Dunn fails to
mention that this is very much in line with Sanders's central concern
even if Sanders does not speak of those laws which 'created a social
distinction between Jews and other races'2 precisely in connection with
Gal. 2.16. In Dunn's view, however, these 'works of the law' should
not be taken as equivalent to 'doing the law' in general.3 Paul is not
disparaging law as such, nor has he 'broken with Judaism as a whole'.4
Paul is only 'speaking against the too narrow understanding of God's
covenant promise and of the law in nationalistic and racial terms'.5 He
does not 'deny the covenant, or indeed the law as God's law, but only
the covenant and the law as "taken over" by Israel'.6 Dunn thus
presents a new version of an old thesis: what Paul attacks is not the
law as such or as a whole, but just the law as viewed in some
particular perspective, a particular attitude to the law, or some
specific (misunderstanding of it.7
I find myself in basic agreement with Sanders and Dunn regarding
the view of Palestinian Judaism as covenantal nomism and the view
that the classical Lutheran understanding of Paul is a misunder-
standing. I further concur with Dunn's contention that 'works of the
law' in Gal. 2.16 means, primarily at least, such commandments as
circumcision and the food laws. Finally, I agree with Dunn's view that
Gal. 2.16 tells us something of how Paul's 'doctrine' of justification by
faith took shape in the course of his missionary enterprise, although
my analysis of the verse is different. I think, however, that Paul's
1. 'Perspective on Paul*, p. 107-108.

2. Sanders, Paul, the Law, and the Jewish People, p. 102. Dunn had the
manuscript of this book at his disposal (see 'Perspective on Paul', p. 102) and
makes several references to it elsewhere.
4. 'Perspective on Paul', p. 120. It is to be doubted whether Sanders would
recognize either phrase as representing his stance.
7. Cf. especially C.E.B. Cranfield, 'St. Paul and the Law', SJT 17 (1964),
pp. 43-68; H. Hubner, Das Gesetz bei Paulus (FRLANT, 119; Gottingen, 1980),
pp. 118-29 (regarding Romans but not Galatians); further references in
H. Raisanen, Paul and the Law (WUNT, 29; Tubingen, 1983), p. 42 n. 1.
5. Galatians 2.16 and Pauls Break with Judaism 115
critique of the law is much more radical than Dunn allows and that we
should not shrink from speaking of his 'break' with Judaism. I will
first comment on Dunn's exegesis of Gal. 2.16 and then briefly
address myself to the larger issue of continuity and discontinuity.
On Dunn's Exegesis of Galatians 2.16

In Gal. 2.15 Paul accepts the standard Jewish distinction between Jews
and 'Gentile sinners', thus 'appealing to Jewish sensibilities'.1 Dunn
infers that 'being justified' in v. 16a is also 'evidently something
Jewish'. Because of this connection between vv. 15 and 16a Paul's
'concept of righteousness, both noun and verb' is 'almost certainly'
'thoroughly Jewish', with 'strong covenant overtones'.2 As 'God's
justification is not his act in first making his covenant with Israel', but
rather his 'acknowledgement that someone is in the covenant', Dunn
takes issue with Sanders's view that SiKcuouaGai is used by Paul
primarily as a 'transfer term'.3 In Gal. 2.16 the verb cannot 'be
treated simply as an entry or initiation formula; nor is it possible to
draw a clear line of distinction between Paul's usage and the typically
Jewish covenant usage' (as Sanders maintains).4 In Dunn's view the
emphasis on a distinctive 'transfer' use of 8iKOtio\)a9ai precisely at
Gal. 2.16 seems 'very odd', for 'the issue at Antioch was the day-to-
day conduct of those who had already believed'.5 The point is impor-
tant for Dunn, for Paul now already 'appears a good deal less
idiosyncratic and arbitrary than Sanders alleges'.6
It is not correct methodology, however, to support the 'covenantal'
understanding of the verb SiicaioSoGai with the usage of the noun
combination 8iKaioawT| GeoS in the OT.7 Furthermore, it is hardly

3. 'Perspective on Paul', p. 106. For Sanders's usage, see Paul and Palestinian
Judaism, pp. 470-72, 501, 518 n. 5, 544; Paul, the Law, and the Jewish People,
pp. 5-10 (esp. p. 8). 'Most succinctly, righteousness in Judaism is a term which
implies the maintenance of status among the group of the elect; in Paul it is a transfer
term' (Paul and Palestinian Judaism, p. 544).
7. Dunn ('Perspective on Paul', p. 105 n. 28) refers to S.K. Williams's article
possible to take 5iKcuoi)o0ai as a reference to 'day-to-day conduct'.

To be sure, Peter and Barnabas may have thought that precisely the
'day-to-day conduct' was at stake in Antioch. Paul, however, moves
the issue to another, soteriological level in Gal. 2.16. The verse
envisages the entry into the Christian community. The aorist
e7UGT£i>G(xu.£V must refer to a once-and-for-all step; 'also we have
come to believe in Christ Jesus'.1 In fact, it seems that Dunn's inter-
pretation in terms of day-to-day conduct would require some such
paraphrase of v. 16 as this: 'we decided in faith to live like Gentiles
here in Antioch, in order that God would acknowledge that our daily
conduct corresponds to the covenantal norms'.2
But eig Xpiaxov 'rriaovv ETciaxeâaîev would be an extremely odd
way to express such a thought. Quite possibly Paul refers in v. 16b to
the decisive new step of baptism (cf. v. 19).3 iva SncocicoSSpxv in
v. 16c then refers to the result of the faith decision (expressed as its
goal), which is the gaining of a new relationship with God. Verse 16a
refers to the same thing in the form of a general rule, whence the
'timeless' present form. Verse 16d repeats the rule partly in the
'The "Righteousness of God" in Romans', JBL 99 (1980), pp. 260-61. Williams,

however, rightly insists 'that we maintain a careful distinction among dikaioun
(passive dikaiousthai), dikaiosyne and dikaiosyne theou'; (p. 260). Dunn neglects
this warning and appeals to Williams's material concerning 8iKcaoa\)vr| Geou in
order to determine the meaning of 5iKaio$o0ai in Gal. 2.16.
1. H.-D. Betz, Galatians (Philadelphia, 1979), p. 117; cf. p. 118: 'a step done';
'Jews. . . became believers in Christ'. This is the universally accepted interpretation.
2. Dunn might with better reason have appealed to the words £r|Toi)VTe<;
SiKaicoGfjvai ev Xpiax© in v. 17. The participle 'seeking' could refer to a con-
tinuing effort, whereas the aorist infinitive 8iKaico6fjv(xi suggests rather a punctual
event. Because of this internal tension in the phrasing it is very difficult to make out
the meaning of the sentence with any certainty. Most probably the following words
ei)pe0r|u.ev Kai cruxoi a|xapTCoXoi have in view the conservative Jewish
Christians' reaction in Antioch to Paul's and his friends' behaviour, which put them
also into the position of 'Gentile sinners' (v. 15). £n.To0vT£<; SucaicoGfivai ev
XpictG), then, clearly has something to do with day-to-day conduct. But the connec-
tion with the once-and-for-all coming to faith (v. 16) is equally clear. It is not easy to
pinpoint the meaning of SiKcucoGfjvai here; it would be something like 'trying to live
in accordance with our earlier faith decision'.
3. Cf. H. Schlier, Der Brief an die Galater (MeyerK, 7; Gottingen, 12th edn,
1962), p. 94; F. Mussner, Der Galaterbrief (HTKNT, 9; Freiburg/Basel/Wien,
1974), pp. 173-74.
wording of Ps. 142.2 LXX (whence the future tense).1 Paul suggests
that Peter's new conduct in fact contradicts the inner logic of the step
once taken. That is why he wants to recall it. 8iKaioua0oti is, then, in
Gal. 2.16acd a striking example of the use of the 8IK- root as transfer
terminology—a usage characteristically different from pre-Christian
Jewish usage. Yet it may not be Paul who introduced this linguistic
novelty. 1 Cor. 6.11, Sanders's 'clearest' example of the use of
8iKocioa)o0ai as transfer terminology,2 is often held—not without
reason—to be a pre-Pauline baptismal formula.3 More uncertain is the
pre-Pauline origin of Rom. 6.7.4 It would be worthwhile to study the
use of other soteriological word groups from the same point of view.
It might turn out that there are other examples of words previously
used to mean maintenance of status that now often denote a transfer.
Tticxeveiv/Kicxiq are as likely candidates as any; the verb certainly
continues to denote permanent 'trust' (with overtones of obedience and
hope) shown by those who are 'in', but in addition there has evolved
that punctiliar meaning which is found for example in Gal. 2.16b
(aorist KIOTEVGOLI = 'to be converted'). As the new community of faith
in effect required a conversion from one's previous state to another
(see below), it is not unnaturally related to the transfer context if
some central words tend to take on new shades of meaning.5 The
1. Dunn seems to think that future tenses (Gal. 2.16d) or implications

(Gal. 2.16c, Gal. 5.5) contradict the notion of a 'transfer' use (cf. 'Perspective on
Paul', p. 106), but this is not so. The futures are eschatological, and given Paul's
overall 'already not yet' scheme it should come as no surprise that in effect one has to
'enter' twice: first here and then at the final judgment.
2. Paul and Palestinian Judaism, p. 471.
3. See P. Stuhlmacher, Gerechtigkeit Gottes bei Paulus (FRLANT, 87;
Gottingen, 2nd end, 1966), p. 185; K. Kertelge, 'Rechtfertigung' bei Paulus
(NTAbh, 3; Munster, 1967), pp. 244-45; F. Hahn, 'Taufe und Rechtfertigung', in
J. Friedrich, W. Pohlmann and P. Stuhlmacher (eds.), Rechtfertigung: Festschrift
fur Ernst Kdsemann mm 70. Geburtstag (Tubingen, 1976), pp. 105-107. Cf. the
analogous use of SiKaiocovrj in 1 Cor 1.30 (Hahn, 'Taufe und Rechtfertigung',
pp. 107-108).
4. Hahn, 'Taufe und Rechtfertigung', pp. 111-12 tries to trace this verse, too,
back to a traditional baptism liturgy. Unlike many others, however, he thinks that
Rom. 8.30 is formulated by Paul himself ('Taufe und Rechtfertigung', pp. 115-16.
For references to scholars who assume that eSimicocev comes from tradition see
p. 115 n. 79).
5. Note that Sanders (Paul and Palestinian Judaism, p. 545) recognizes 'an
linguistic novelty points to a novelty in the realm of religion, and this

seems to be there already before Paul.
Another corollary of Dunn's covenantal reading of Gal. 2.16 is that
'justification by faith is not a distinctively Christian teaching'. 'Paul is
wholly at one with his fellow Jews in asserting that justification is by
faith.' 1 Thus Paul, instead of being 'out of touch', 'actually addresses
Judaism as we know it to have been in the first century'. 2 However,
the statement about justification by faith, for which Dunn presents no
lexical evidence, is quite misleading. Dunn explicates it as follows:
Integral to the idea of the covenant itself, and of God's continued action to
maintain it, is the profound recognition of Gods initiative and grace in
first establishing and then maintaining the covenant.3
So far, so good. But Dunn goes on by saying that Paul's appeal is to

'Jews, whose Christian faith is but an extension of their Jewish faith in
a graciously electing and sustaining God'. 4 This is a misrepresentation
element of the "transfer" use' of the righteousness terminology also in Qumran, the
similarity being 'probably connected with the fact that both in Qumran and in Paul one
must "be converted": join a group in which one was not born' (although the use is
not identical). But Paul was not the first Christian to insist (in effect) on 'conversion'.
1. Dunn, 'Perspective on Paul', p. 106. One gets the impression that ei86x£<;
refers, according to Dunn, to standard Jewish belief. Commentators universally
recognize that Paul speaks of retrospective 'knowledge', Glaubenswissen; see
esp. Mussner, Galaterbrief, p. 168. Moreover, Dunn's argument depends on his
omission of 8e from v. 16a ('Perspective on Paul', p. 104 n. 25). Now the particle
may or may not belong to the original text. If it does, this automatically destroys
Dunn's argument, for then it is clear that a contrast with the standard Jewish view is
envisaged already in v. 16a. For the opposite view the textual question is not of
crucial importance, although a clause with 5e would admittedly make the statement
more effective. If 8e is omitted, it is more plausible to follow the punctuation of
Nestle-Aland (26th edn) (ei56i£<; begins a new clause which stands in an implicit
contrast to what precedes) than, with Dunn, to assume an anacoluthon.
4. 'Perspective on Paul', p. 106. Cf. J.D.G. Dunn, 'The Incident at Antioch
(Gal. 2.11-18)', JSNT 18 (1983), p. 40:
Was not Judaism firmly rooted in God's electing and forgiving grace, so that
justification through faith was a phrase which could describe the basis for Judaism as
well as for the particular expression of faith in the Messiah Jesus?
While the answer to the initial question is 'yes', the rest is a non sequitur (the
meaning of both 'justification' and 'faith' is broadened too much).
of the meaning of nxaxxq in Gal. 2.16. Whereas Judaism did recognize

God's initiative and grace, we should not intentionally introduce
semantic confusion about 'faith', merely does not denote just any 'trust'
in Gal. 2.16.1 It is faith in Jesus Christ, and this is something novel in
Judaism. Galatians makes this abundantly clear elsewhere, for example
when speaking of the (recent) coming of faith in 3.23-24.2 The faith
decision (aorist EKioxex)oa\Lzv!) is presented as a new step in Gal. 2.16.
But even assuming, for the sake of argument, that 'justification by
faith' were a phrase suited to describe 'the basis for Judaism',3 it is
hard to see what the gain for Dunn's thesis would be. The continuity
would then exist between Dunn's Judaism and his Peter, not between
Judaism and Paul. Dunn first asserts that in Gal. 2.16a, which presents
the common ground between Peter and pre-Galatians Paul, covenantal
nomism is not called in question, but the traditional Jewish faith is
only 'more precisely defined as faith in Jesus Messiah'.4 However, he
then goes on to say that 'Paul followed a different logic'. For Paul,
faith in Christ becomes an antithetical alternative to covenantal
nomism.5 Dunn thinks he can detect a transition from Paul's initial
view (shared with Peter) in v. 16a to his final view expressed in the
latter half of the verse.
[There] we are seeing the transition from a basically Jewish self-under-
standing of Christ's significance to a distinctively different understanding,
the transition indeed from a form of Jewish Messianism to a faith which
sooner or later must break away from Judaism.6
This is a striking statement in a lecture purporting to refute claims of

a 'break' between Judaism and Paul! If Paul's statement does indeed
have such a built-in tendency towards a break with Judaism, then what
1. This is recognized by Dunn, 'Perspective on Paul', pp. 111-12; finally,

however, he takes 'faith in Jesus Christ' in v. 16a as just a more precise definition
of the 'traditional Jewish faith'.
2. To be sure, Paul does introduce Abraham as a proleptic example of TCIGTK;,
and his implicit equation of Abraham's trust in God (Gen. 15.6) with his own faith
in Christ may have led Dunn to similar semantic confusion. But Abraham remains a
special case. Paul does not suggest that, since Abraham, the possibility of faith was
there all along.
3. See the quotation above p. 118 n. 4.
is wrong with Sanders's emphasis on a de facto break?

According to Dunn, it is assumed in v. 16a that justification is by
works, but only in the special case that faith is also present. That is,
eocv |it| should be taken in the usual sense of 'except'. Only in
v. 16bcd does Paul put forward the statement that no justification is
available by works of the law.1 From a purely linguistic point of view
this is, of course, possible.2 It is not a necessary linguistic conclusion,
however, as the clearly adversative use of ei |xf| in Gal. 1.7 shows (cf.
1 Cor. 7.17);3 very clear cases outside Paul's writings are Mt. 12.4,
Lk. 4.26-27. In view of the subject matter such a 'transition' is highly
improbable. Dunn's lecture seems to suggest that at the very moment
when uttering the words in question Paul is gliding from one
understanding of 'justification by faith' to another, for he writes,
'Perhaps, then, for the first time, in this verse faith in Jesus Messiah
begins to emerge not simply as a narrower definition of the elect of
God, but as an alternative definition of the elect of God.'4 I wonder if
this really is what Dunn means. If it is, it cannot be correct. Assuming
that Paul is echoing the line of argument he tried to develop when
confronted with Peter in Antioch,5 it is extremely unlikely that Paul
hit upon this piece of reasoning in the middle of a sentence in his
public address. And even supposing that that was the case, why should
he have taken the trouble to communicate his successive formulations,
including the cancelled one, to the Galatians?6
A shift in the meaning of justification after v. 16a would only be
1. Dunn, 'Perspective on Paul', pp. 112-13.

2. F. Blass, A. Debrunner and F. Rehkopf, Grammatik des neutestamentlichen
Griechisch (Gottingen, 14th edn, 1976), §376. In itself, this may be called 'the most
obvious grammatical sense'; Dunn, 'Perspective on Paul', p. 112.
3. Cf. A. Oepke, Der Brief des Paulus an die Galater (THKNT, 9; Berlin, 4th
edn, 1979), p. 90; Schlier, Galater, p. 92 n. 6; Betz, Galatians, p. 117.
4. 'Perspective on Paul', p. 113. Cf. 'Paul begins to develop a different
answer'(p. 114). Paul's earliest written statement on justification by faith in Gal. 2.16
'seems to grow out of Paul's attempt to define and defend his own understanding of
justification, over against whatever view was held by his fellow Jewish Christians
from Jerusalem and Antioch' (p. 103); we are 'witnessing a very crucial develop-
ment. . . taking place before our very eyes, as it were. For in this verse we are
seeing the transition. . . ' (p. 115).
6. It is still less conceivable that Paul's mature view would have 'begun to
emerge' when he was dictating the letter to the Galatians.
5. Galatians 2.16 and Pauls Break with Judaism 121
intelligible on the assumption that v. 16a presents a tactical move:

Paul starts from Peter's position, but only in order to show that it is
inadequate.1 The flow of thought in v. 16 is, however, quite smooth.
There is no formal indication of a contrast between the beginning and
the end. In fact, a hidden contrast would spoil the thought: 'knowing
what is necessary we did something else!'
Justification by works of the law, then, is denied throughout v. 16,
as it is in the rest of the letter.2 If Paul is nevertheless using in v. 16a
a traditional formula, which expresses the point of view of Jewish
Christians such as Peter,3 we should conclude that an implicit break
with Judaism was then already in existence in pre-Pauline Jewish
Christianity. The formulation, however, may well be due to Paul
himself.
Continuity or Discontinuity?
When reading the following verses, perhaps one could at first be
satisfied with the contention that Paul is not critical of the law as
such,4 even though KaxaMeiv is almost a technical term for
1. Thus W. Bousset, Der Brief an die Galater (SNT, 2; Gottingen, 1917),

pp. 47-48, who also takes eav \ir\ in a restrictive sense: 'wer A sagt, muss auch B
sagen' (p. 48).
2. I regard Dunn's view that odp£ at the end of v. 16 denotes an attitude which
puts too much stress on the national Jewish identity as an over-interpretation, but the
point is of minor importance for the present discussion.
3. Cf. Betz, Galatians, pp. 115, 117. Yet he does not really substantiate the
assertion that the 'doctrinal abbreviation' in v. 16a 'must be old*. For a different
view see Mussner, Galaterbrief, p. 28.
4. My understanding of Gal. 2.17 is in broad agreement with that of Dunn (see
Dunn, 'Incident', p. 36), whereas we differ with respect to v. 18. My view is
briefly as follows (for a slightly fuller statement see Raisanen, Paul and the Law,
pp. 76 n. 173 and 259-60 n. 159): the new life-style of Peter and Paul has put
them, in the eyes of Jewish (Christian) critics, into the position of 'Gentile sinners',
as the m i in v. 17, referring to v. 15, shows. Paul admits that he appears as a
'sinner' from the point of view of the Torah, but denies that this makes Christ a
servant of 'sin' in a pregnant sense. The ajxapx- root, on this reading, changes its
meaning in v. 17b. The implicit conclusion is that the law does not provide wholly
reliable criteria of sin. As for v. 18, I doubt that rcapapaxriq should be seen in
connection with the function ascribed to the law in Rom. 4.15 (thus Dunn),
cuvioxdvco should be taken in the sense of 'demonstrating'. 'If I reintroduce such
abandoning the law.1 From v. 19 on, however, such an interpretation

becomes very difficult. Paul and others have died to the law, as Rom.
7.1-6 is later to affirm. Whatever the cryptic 8ia voiun) may mean in
Gal. 2.19,2 the message of v. 19 can hardly be that the law itself
effected that T became dead to it when it is viewed from a certain
angle, or from a particular attitude to it. And it is altogether impos-
sible to read ch. 3 as an attack on just a particular attitude to the law.
Why should the death of Christ have been necessary to liberate men
from an attitude of theirs? What entered the stage of Heilsgeschichte
430 years after Abraham was the law, the whole law and nothing but
the law (3.17). It was not any 'attitude' that entered the world in the
Sinai event, in order to be valid for a certain period of time (until the
coming of the 'seed') for a particular purpose. And surely the
'identity marker' of circumcision is not in focus in this passage, for
circumcision was as old as Abraham and did not appear centuries after
him. Paul's attempt to establish a (negative) divine purpose for the law
(Gal. 3.19-25), his identification of Hagar with Sinai in the allegory
4.24-25 or—going beyond Galatians—his reference to the stone
tablets (the Decalogue) in a critical context in 2 Corinthians 3 indicate
strongly that it is the covenant law as such, including its moral core in
the Decalogue (cf. also Rom. 7.7-13) that enslaves, kills, calls forth
sin and has only a negative purpose.3 The problem of the 'identity
markers' may well once have been the starting point for Paul's
theologizing about the law,4 but finally he arrived at very negative
statements on the law as such and as a whole.
ordinances as I had already abandoned, I demonstrate that I have been a transgressor

during the period of non-observance.' The non-observance was, then, based on an
arbitrary decision of mine; it was all wrong. But that is not the case. In fact, the non-
observance is the result of my death to the law, and this took place 8 i a vouxyu
(v. 19). Whatever that phrase may mean it probably at least indicates that Paul's
break with the law was not an arbitrary act, but was somehow or other due to the law
itself. So it was not wrong.
1. Mt. 5.17; 2 Mace. 2.22; 4 Mace. 5.33 etc.; cf. W. Bauer, Griechisches
Worterbuch zu den Schriften des Neuen Testaments. .. (Berlin, 5th edn, 1958), s.v.
lc.
2. Cf. Raisa'nen, Paul and the Law, pp. 54-55.
3. For a fuller critique of the position that Paul does not attack the law as such,
see Raisa'nen, Paul and the Law, pp. 42-50; the comments made there with particular
reference to Cranfield's view are, I think, applicable to Dunn's position.
4. See Raisanen, Paul and the Law, pp. 259-62.
That Paul also often made much more positive comments on the law
is equally true and should not be explained away.1 There is a tension
in his thought which would seem to testify to an anguished struggle.2
Dunn fastens onto the positive statements. Wishing to underline the
continuity between the Christian Paul and his past, he refers to Paul's
'occasional defence of Jewish prerogative' as in Rom. 9.4-6, to his
olive tree allegory in Romans 11 and to his stated willingness to
observe the law in 1 Cor. 9.19-23.3 It is indeed clear that Paul often
wanted to see his own position in just that way. He liked to think that
it was he who represented true continuity with the great traditions of
Israel. (Which theologian, however radical, ever abstained from
claiming a continuity between his view and the normative tradition?)
It is he who really upholds the law (Rom. 3.31). He and his Jewish
Christian peers are those branches that have not been cut away from
the olive tree, to which the Gentile Christians now have been grafted.
He certainly wished to underline the continuity, particularly when
faced with people of his own race. Nevertheless, it is easy to see why
most of his fellow Jews were not convinced by his 'conservative'
claims.
Clearly Paul did not remain an observant Jew.4 Had he done that, he
could not possibly have been xoiq av6\ioi<; ox; avo|io<; (1 Cor. 9.21).
Torah observance was optional for Paul. An average Jew could only
construe that as a break with the great traditions of Israel. For him,
Torah obedience was something ordained by God. It was not in human
power to pick and choose. In trying to hold together the belief in the
divine origin of the law and a liberal attitude to its contents Paul
inevitably found himself in a very difficult position.
In theory, Paul did not require Christian Jews to give up Torah
observance. Actually, however, he expected them to do just that
whenever the observance interfered with the dealings with Gentile
Christians, as Galatians 2 shows.5 God's eternal decrees, then, were no
longer fully valid.

2. Cf. Sanders, Paul, the Law, and the Jewish People, pp. 197 and 143 (with
reference to Rom. 9-11 and Rom. 7).
3. 'Perspective on Paul', pp. 102, 119.
5. See Sanders, Paul, the Law, and the Jewish People, pp. 177-78.
Sanders has convincingly shown the inner logic of Paul's claim that
no Jew will be saved as a Jew, as Gal. 2.16 makes clear.1 Jews as well
as Gentiles must enter the new community. This necessarily implies
that the old covenant no longer works. Such a soteriological exclu-
sivism reveals the degree of ^continuity between Judaism and Paul.
Faith in Jesus involved quite a new step for a Jew. He had to accept
that Jesus was the messiah and that the final era had begun. He had to
enter the new community, socially distinct from the synagogue even
when loyalty to the synagogue was maintained (own services, liturgy
etc.). He had to undergo the new initiation rite of baptism.2 In a word,
conversion was as necessary for him as for a Gentile. All that did not
in fact amount to remaining in the old olive tree. In effect, the Jew
had to be grafted into a third tree, as it were. Even he had to become
a Kaivri KTiaiQ. It was a new beginning.3
Continuity and discontinuity are not absolute terms, and it might be
worthwhile to reflect a little on our use of them. One could try to
establish a scale with various degrees of (dis-)continuity showing the
relationship of Paul, Matthew, Philo or anybody else to the Judaism
before them (supposing that that could be defined with sufficient pre-
cision!) At what point on the scale one should speak of a 'break'
would then be a matter of definition. It would be more meaningful to
try to establish the relative continuity and discontinuity that Paul
shows with regard to Judaism (however one defines 'Judaism') in
comparison with other contemporary Jews (or even Gentile Christians
trying to appropriate the OT heritage). Such an analysis would cer-
tainly bring to light a good deal of continuity—Paul cannot be under-
stood at all apart from his roots in Judaism—but also a high degree of
discontinuity. The latter is also brought out by the inherent tension in
1. Sanders, Paul, the Law, and the Jewish People, pp. 29, 56-57 n. 63, 78-
79, 172, 176, 178.
2. In another connection Dunn correctly speaks of 'the "Rubicon" significance
of baptism', which expressed the baptizand's commitment 'with all that this meant in
terms of breaking (!) with the previous way of life'. Unity and Diversity in the New
Testament (London, 1977), p. 156.
3. This is why Dunn's contention that the covenant is not abandoned but rather
'broadened out as God had originally intended' ('Perspective on Paul', p. 114)
or that 'Paul's solution does not require him to deny the covenant' (p. 122) misses
the point.
Dunn's own position as pointed out above.1 Long ago, Donald Riddle
gave a realistic description of Paul's stance:
Always regarding himself as a faithful and loyal Jew, his definitions of
values were so different from those of his contemporaries that, notwith-
standing his own position within Judaism, he was, from any point of
view other than his own, at best a poor Jew and at worst a renegade.2
In summary, I think that Dunn comes close to describing Paul's

position as Paul himself wished it to be understood (emphasizing
continuity). On the other hand, Sanders is correct when he points out
what Paul's position amounted to de facto. Paul's attack on covenantal
nomism—largely implicit3 but nonetheless very real—signals such a
degree of discontinuity or such a change of values that it is hardly too
much to speak of a break.
But it was not Paul, who first introduced into the new community of
faith the pressure toward a break! It was not he who introduced
baptism.4 He did not start the habit of holding special meetings along
with normal synagogue services. Above all, it was not he who first
came forward with exclusive christological claims. The break with
Judaism became logically inevitable at the very moment when the
claim was raised that faith in Jesus is the only way to salvation.5 The
1. See above, pp. 119-20.

2. 'The Jewishness of Paul', JR 23 (1943), p. 244. Therefore it is no surprise
at all if Paul really did make 'little sense to his fellow Jews' (on Dunn, 'Perspective
on Paul', p. 119).
3. Sanders thinks that the denial is explicit and conscious; cf. Paul and Palestinian
Judaism, p. 551. I still hesitate to accept this conclusion (cf. Paul and the Law,
pp. 187-88); at least it might be significant that Paul never spells out the denial of the
covenant in plain words (as he does, at times, with regard to the law); and even
Sanders states {Paul, the Law and the Jewish People, p. 207) that Paul 'seems not to
have perceived that his gospel and his missionary activity imply a break with Judaism'.
But be that as it may, Sanders has certainly grasped the logic of Paul's stance.
4. If a pre-Christian date could be established with certainty for the practice of
proselyte baptism, this would be of immense significance for the issue at hand.
Against the background of such a practice the rite alone would have conveyed the
message that Jews were in effect in the same position as Gentiles.
5. This is recognized by H. Conzelmann, Grundriss der Theologie des Neuen
Testaments (Munich, 2nd edn, 1968), p. 47: in the proclamation of the earliest
church 'wird eine Stellungnahme zu seiner (Jesus) Person als Bedingung des Heils
verlangt. Im Grunde ist damit bereits gesagt, dass nicht die Erfullung des Gesetzes
das Heil schafft, sondern der Glaube.' I would only modify, in the vein of Sanders,
126 Jesus, Paul and Tor ah
break may have been implicit in the preaching of Jesus already

(cf. Lk. 12.8-9 par.).1 If no one can be saved unless they acknowledge
God's eschatological emissary or accept God's new offer of salvation,
that necessarily implies that God's ancient offer no longer counts. In
logically excluding the salvific significance of God's covenant with
Israel, 2 nascent Christianity carried in itself the germ of a new
particularism: extra ecclesiam Christianam nulla salus?
the end of the sentence: it is not God's covenant with Israel that leads to salvation,
but faith in Jesus.
1. If proselyte baptism is pre-Christian, the break would seem to be implied
already in John the Baptist's activity: John was then introducing
the revolutionary and—in Jewish eyes—scandalous innovation, that he demanded this
baptism not only from heathen but from all circumcised Jews on reception into the
messianic fellowship. Here already baptism seems to be superseding circumcision (O.
Cullmann, Baptism in the New Testament [SBT, 1, London, repr. 1961], p. 62).
2. A word on the 'new covenant' might be in order here. Some readers may
wish to establish a continuity between Judaism and Paul via Jer. 31, where the
Exodus covenant is viewed as broken and insufficient and a new covenant is
envisaged. It is to be doubted, however, that Jer. 31 could have served as a bridge
between Paul and those Jews who did not accept his views. The continuity between
the new covenant of Jer. 31 and the old one is of a quite different sort than that
between Paul and the covenant theology. The new covenant of Jer. 31 is no different
from the old one in outward appearance. Above all, there is no break with the old
Torah. The law will not be changed when the new covenant is made; what will be
changed is man's attitude to the law and his ability to fulfil it. Incidentally, the other
significant feature of the new covenant will be, according to Jer. 31, that no religious
teaching will be needed any more. One would be hard put to claim that this promise
has found its fulfilment in Paul, still less in Christianity (or Judaism, for that matter)
at large. For an excellent discussion of Jer 31, where the last mentioned point is also
made, seenowR.P. Carroll, From Chaos to Covenant (London, 1981), pp. 215-23.
3. Cf. Sanders, Paul, the Law, and the Jewish People, p. 160.
Chapter 6
JESUS AND THE FOOD LAWS: REFLECTIONS ON MARK 7.15
There is nothing outside a man which by entering into him can defile him;
but the things which come out of a man are what defile him (Mk 7.15).
There is a broad consensus among NT scholars that this saying

belongs to the bedrock of those ipsissima verba, the authenticity of
which is hardly open to serious doubt. Scholars not suspect of histori-
cal credulity, such as Bultmann, Braun or Kasemann, agree that in this
saying, so totally different from the normal Jewish notion of purity,
we do hear the authentic voice of Jesus.1 Occasional doubters have
been quickly blamed for * scepticism run wild',2 and the very existence
of some dissenters is now taken as an indication of a deep crisis in NT
1. R. Bultmann, Geschichte der synoptischen Tradition (3rd edn, 1957), p. 158

(cf. p. 110); H. Braun, Jesus (1969), p. 73; E. Kasemann, Exegetische Versuche
und Besinnungen (1960), I, p. 207. See further, among others, the following:
E. Haenchen, Der Weg Jesu (1966), p. 265; N. Perrin, Rediscovering the Teaching
of Jesus (1967), p. 150; W.G. Kttmmel, 'Aussere und innere Reinheit des
Menschen bei Jesus', in Das Wort und die Worter (Festschrift G. Friedrich; 1973),
p. 35; R. Pesch, Das Markusevangelium (1976), I, p. 383; J. Lambrecht, 'Jesus
and the Law', ETL 53 (1977), p. 75; J. Gnilka, Das Evangelium nach Markus
(1978), I, p. 286; J. Riches, Jesus and the Transformation of Judaism (1980),
pp. 136ff.; R. Smend and U. Luz, Gesetz (1981), p. 60 ('probably');
D. Liihrmann, '. . . womit er alle Speisen fur rein erklarte (Mk. 7, 19)', Wort und
Dienst 16 (1981), p. 89.
2. An expression coined by C.G. Montefiore, The Synoptic Gospels (3rd edn,
1968), I, p. 133; cited, e.g., by V. Taylor, The Gospel according to St Mark
(1952), p. 343. Montefiore was referring to Bultmann: but Bultmann did not in fact
deny the authenticity of the saying. The nemesis of Forschungsgeschichte avenged
this inaccuracy some decades later, when Montefiore himself was listed as an
exponent of the mauthenticity of Mk 7.15 by H.J. Schoeps, Studien zur unbekannten
Religionsgeschichte (1963), p. 52.
scholarship by such a distinguished authority as W.G. Kiimmel.1 How

justified is such a judgement?
Along with the standard notion that Mk 7.15 is a genuine, radical
saying of Jesus, other views do indeed exist. While considering v. 15a
as an authentic radical mashal of Jesus, H. Merkel regards v. 15b as
secondary.2 E. Percy, S.E. Johnson, S. Schulz and K. Berger3 deny
(for widely different reasons, as will be seen) the authenticity of the
whole saying, while some scholars, notably C.E. Carlston,4 assume an
original form less sweeping in scope. Finally, quite a few expositors,
who hold fast to the authenticity of the saying in its present form,
posit an original meaning which was different from that suggested by
the Markan interpretation.5 The question surely deserves to be
reconsidered.
I
It seems reasonable to agree with those commentators who assume that
Mk7.15 has been secondarily placed in its present context, presum-
ably by Mark. Verse 14 is a typical Markan introduction, designed to
attach to a new context material which had circulated separately.6 The
saying had probably been provided with a commentary (the substance
1. Kiimmel, 'Aussere und innere Reinheit', p. 35.

2. 'Markus 7,15—das Jesuswort iiber die innere Verunreinigung\ ZRGG 20
(1968), pp. 352-60.
3. E. Percy, Die Botschaft Jesu (1953), p. 118; S.E. Johnson, The Gospel
according to St. Mark (1960), p. 134; S. Schulz, 'Die neue Frage nach dem
historischen Jesus', in Neues Testament und Geschichte (Festschrift O. Cullmann;
1972), pp. 39, 41; K. Berger, Die Gesetzesauslegung Jesu (1972), I, pp. 463ff.
4. 'The Things That Defile (Mark VII, 15) and the Law in Matthew and Mark',
NTS 15 (1968-69), p. 95. Cf. B.W. Bacon, Studies in Matthew (1930), p. 354;
B.H. Branscomb, Jesus and the Law (1930), p. 176; D.E. Nineham, Saint Mark
(1963), pp. 191-92; H. Anderson, The Gospel of Mark (1976), p. 183.
5. Montefiore, The Synoptic Gospels, p. 163; B.W. Bacon, 'Jesus and the
Law', JBL 47 (1928), p. 210; E. Klostermann, Das Markusevangelium (2nd edn,
1926), p. 77; Taylor, St Mark, p. 343; Pesch, Das Markusevangelium, p. 383;
W. Paschen, Rein und unrein (1970), p. 184; P. Fiedler, Jesus und die Sunder
(1976), p. 253; S. Westerholm, Jesus and Scribal Authority (1978), pp. 82ff.;
Smend and Luz, Gesetz, pp. 60-61. Cf. also Luhrmann, 'alle Speisen fiir rein',
p. 86.
6. Gnilka, Markus, p. 278.
6. Jesus and the Food Laws 129
of vv. 18-23, or at least vv. 18b, 19a, 19b) at a pre-Markan stage;1

this commentary is, however, secondary to the saying itself.2 From
the point of view of the 'historical Jesus' problem it is therefore
necessary to exegete v. 15 as a separate saying, regardless of its
present context.3
Attempts to establish an earlier form of the saying, allegedly differ-
ent from the present one, are beset with difficulties. To begin with,
the suggestion that v. 15b should be removed on the grounds that it is
an expansion which distorts the meaning of the whole4 is implausible.5
It is true that TcopeveaGai (with prefixes) is first used in a concrete
sense (v. 15a) and then metaphorically (v. 15b); obviously, it would
be absurd to apply xa EK %OX> avGpamou eK7copei)6u.£va to excre-
ment.6 This change is a striking rhetorical device; I see no reason to
assess it as evidence of clumsiness, much less as an indication of an
origin different from that of v. 15a.7 There is no need to attribute the
emphasis on inward impurity to Hellenistic influences; a similar con-
trast between external (cultic) purity and inward (moral) impurity is
present in the Q saying Mt. 23.25-26 par.
Some commentators ascribe the participles eiorcope'uou.evov and

3. Kummel, 'Aussere und innere Reinheit', p. 37; Pesch, Das Markus-
evangelium, p. 378; Gnilka, Markus, p. 277. This is so even if one posits a basic
unit which consisted of elements of vv. 1-2, of v. 5 and of v. 15; thus Berger, Die
Gesetzesauslegung, pp. 462-63; Anderson, Mark, p. 181; H.-J. Klauck, Allegorie
und Allegorese in synoptischen Gleichnistexten (1978), p. 262; Liihrmann, 'alle
Speisen fiir rein', pp. 81-82. It seems more natural, however, to suppose that
vv. 1-13 formed a previous unit (itself composed of two parts, vv. 1-8 and 9-13).
Verses 14-15 introduce (apart from the change of scene) a new theme; v. 15 does
not give an answer to the question raised in v. 5. Also, it would be odd if so much
material was inserted between question and answer. Cf. Bultmann, Synoptische
Tradition, p. 15; Kummel, * Aussere und innere Reinheit', p. 37; Gnilka, Markus,
p. 276. See also p. 147 n. 1.
4. Merkel, 'Markus 7,15', pp. 352-60.
5. Cf. Kummel, 'Aussere und innere Reinheit', p. 37; Klauck, Allegorie und
Allegorese, p. 260 n. 5; Lambrecht, 'Jesus and the Law', p. 75.
6. Thus, however, W. Schmithals, Das Evangelium nach Markus (1979), I,
p. 343; even more incredible is his overall interpretation of the saying in terms of
revelation history (p. 345).
7. Against Merkel, 'Markus 7,15', p. 353.
£K7copeD6|xeva to Mark.1 It is illegitimate, however, to infer this

from Markan usage.2 Mark does use eic- and eKTCopeueaGai quite
often,3 but apart from the traditional4 verse Mk 4.19 he uses these
verbs in the concrete sense of movement from one place to another.
On the other hand, if our text contained, instead, some forms of eia-
and e£ep%£G0ai (as does Matthew's!), this could just as well have
raised the suspicion of Markan redaction, for these verbs, too, are
quite common in the second Gospel.5 But then we must ask, which
way of expressing the idea of * entering' or 'coming out' could have
had the chance of escaping our redaction-hunting net at all? It is ille-
gitimate to argue for redaction from the choice of words, if one is not
able to suggest how the idea in question could have been expressed in
'non-redactional' vocabulary.6
The observation that the participles cannot simply be detached as
being redactional has consequences for the interpretation. The par-
ticiples are then not simply pleonastic,7 nor do they limit the allegedly
wider original scope of the saying.8 They indicate, rather, that the
saying is concerned with food—no more and no less.9 It is not con-
cerned, for instance, with all external influences upon man.10 No
1. J. Horst, 'Die Worte Jesu uber die kultische Reinheit. . . ' , TSK 87 (1914),
p. 445; Taylor, St Mark, p. 343; Merkel, 'Markus 7,15', pp. 353-54; Paschen,
Rein und unrein, pp. 173-74; Riches, Transformation, p. 137; cf. also Lambrecht,
'Jesus and the Law', p. 59 and n. 127; Klauck, Allegorie und Allegorese, p. 260
(pre-Markan insertions).
2. Cf. Kiimmel, 'Aussere und innere Reinheit', pp. 37-38.
3. eio7copeveo0ai: 1.21; 4.19; 5.40; 6.56; 11.2 (7.15, 18, 19); £K7copeêa0ai:
1.5; 6.11; 10.17; 10.46; 11.19; 13.1 (7.15, 19, 20, 21, 23).
4. Cf. Klauck, Allegorie und Allegorese, p. 200.
5. eioepxeoBai some 30 times, eêpxeoGai some 40 times (note the usage in
5.30).
6. Cf. Lambrecht, 'Jesus and the Law', p. 60: it is methodologically inadmis-
sible to deny that the idea contained in the Markan verbs was already present in the
original saying.
7. Against Taylor, Merkel, Klauck.
8. Against Horst.
9. Correctly Montefiore, The Synoptic Gospels, p. 153; Klostermann, Markus-
evangelium, p. 77; E. Stauffer, 'Neue Wege der Jesusforschung', in Gottes ist der
Orient (Festschrift O. Eissfeldt; 1959), p. 171; Lambrecht, 'Jesus and the Law',
pp. 60, 75; also Schmithals, Markus, p. 343 (but see above, p. 129 n. 6).
10. Against Kiimmel, 'Aussere und innere Reinheit', p. 39 (the text says 'into',
general statement concerning 'cultic piety' is made;1 still less is man's

alleged desire to justify himself by legalistic works being combatted.2
On the other hand, it is not just the Pharisaic halakah of washing
hands, either, that is in view.3 The saying is concerned with things
entering into man from outside and thereby defiling him. What else
could that be, except foods? Consequently, the commentary supplied
in vv. 18-19 does not restrict the scope of the saying;4 it only states
explicitly what is implied in the logion itself.
That established, the possibility is not excluded that the wording of
the saying may have been slightly changed in the course of its trans-
mission. As Lambrecht points out, ouSev. ..aXKa is a frequent
construction in Mark; 8\>voc|Liai is often used editorially; and the
parallelism would be more symmetrical, if the e^co0ev of v. 15a had
an eacoGev as its counterpart in v. 15b (cf. v. 21).5 But even on the
'maximalist' view that the logion has indeed been altered at all these
points it does not follow that any major modification of its meaning
must have taken place.6 We would then have an original form rather
like Mt. 15.11—and that saying is hardly different from Mk 7.15 in
content. (It is the Matthaean context that suggests that Matthew gave
the saying an interpretation different from Mark's.)7 No definite con-
clusion about the original form can be drawn. There is no evidence
that Mk 7.15 ever circulated in a form close to that conjectured by
Carlston ('what truly defiles a man comes from within, not from
without').8
Taken at face value, the saying looks like a radical if implicit attack
on important parts of the Torah. If nothing that enters into a man
from outside can defile him, then the biblical food laws are actually
not 'upon'!); Gnilka, Markus, p. 284.

1. Against Haenchen, Der Weg Jesu, p. 266.
2. Against E. Schweizer, Das Evangelium nach Markus (1967), p. 82;
Anderson, Mark, pp. 187, 188.
3. Against J. Jeremias, Neutestamentliche Theologie (1971), I, p. 203.
4. Against Gnilka, Markus, p. 285.
5. Lambrecht, 'Jesus and the Law', p. 59.
6. Thus Lambrecht himself, 'Jesus and the Law', p. 60.
7. On Matthew's mitigating of the saying see, e.g., H. Hiibner, Das Gesetz in
der synoptischen Tradition (1973), pp. 176-82.
8. 'The Things that Defile', p. 95. One would like to know what such a state-
ment might have looked like in Aramaic or in translation Greek.
set aside. Consequently, many interpreters who regard the saying as

genuine understand it as a polemical statement on the Torah. Jesus is
openly combatting the law.1 Others, however, have found it difficult
to posit so radical a statement on the lips of Jesus; assuming the
authenticity, they try in various ways to dilute the content of the
saying. Jesus did not, it is held, intend to repudiate the food laws.2 He
may have had some particular occasion in view,3 or he may have
expressed a polemical and paradoxical idea using a Semitic idiom
which means no more than this: 'A man is not so much defiled by that
which enters him from outside as he is by that which comes from
within.'4 If this is so, we must conclude that Jesus obviously did not
perceive the far-reaching implications of his more or less casual
statement. Mark or his predecessors then understood the saying in
more radical terms than its original intention; Mk 7.19 leaves no
doubt about the repudiation of all food laws on the editorial level.
While a 'mild' interpretation of Mk 7.15 along the lines mentioned is
sometimes motivated by a reluctance to attribute to Jesus (who is more
or less viewed in terms of Mt. 5.17) an iconoclastic stance toward
parts of the OT,5 just as often the reason is the difficulty to account
for subsequent Christian developments which failed to take note of the
1. Bultmann, Synoptische Tradition, p. 158; Kasemann, Exegetische Versuche,

p. 207; Schweizer, Markus, p. 82; Merkel, 'Markus 7,15', pp. 351-52 (for v.
15a); Hiibner, Das Gesetz, p. 175; Haenchen, Der Weg Jesu, p. 265; cf. also
Kiimmel, 'Aussere und innere Reinheit', pp. 39, 41; Lambrecht, * Jesus and the
Law', p. 76. The most radical assessment is that of Stauffer, 'Neue Wege', p. 171:
Jesus 'is more than a renegade, he is a preacher of apostasy' who emphatically
annuls the Mosaic laws and seduces his disciples to apostasy.
2. Montefiore, Taylor, Klostermann, Pesch (p. 128, n. 5).
3. Westerholm, Scribal Authority, p. 82; perhaps just 'some such controversy
as the one mentioned in w . 1-5'.
4. Westerholm, Scribal Authority, p. 83. This * Semitic negation' theory would
apply better to Mt. 15.11; in Mk 7.15a the sweeping ov&zv and the strengthening
8\>vaxai surely stand in its way. "Nothing is able to. . . ' is, at any rate, an odd
circumlocution for 'it may not so much. . . '
5. This motivation is criticized by Merkel, 'Markus 7,15', p. 351 (cf. p. 345)
and by Pesch, Das Markusevangelium, p. 383 n. 17 (even though Pesch himself
goes a long way in the same direction). But this was not always the reason for tem-
pering the content of the saying or for regarding it as inauthentic. The wirkungs-
geschichtlich argument is stressed, for example, by Taylor, St Mark, p. 343 and
now by Smend and Luz, Gesetz, p. 61.
paradigm set by the Master on the 'radical' reading1—a difficulty

which will be our concern later in this essay.
It may be hopeless to ascertain the original meaning of a saying, the
original setting of which is not known to us. Nevertheless, as it stands,
the saying certainly leaves the impression of being critical of the
Torah. It was so understood by all the Synoptics. Whereas the critical
orientation is made plain by what follows in Mark, Matthew is at pains
to tone down the critique; and Luke, the most conservative evangelist,
passes over it in silence.2 Moreover, if the saying was not clear, it is
not easy to understand why it was faithfully preserved in the first
place.3 All pretensions to certainty are out of place here, but it would
seem methodologically plausible to give precedence to an interpreta-
tion which takes the wording of the saying literally, if it is able to
combine an anti-Torah orientation with other data, in particular with
the absence of influence upon subsequent developments.
II
A survey of the application of the most popular 'authenticating crite-
ria' yields meagre results. One cannot appeal to the criterion of mul-
tiple attestation, since, apart from Mk 7.15ff., a critical stance to food
laws is visible only in Mt. 15.11, a verse dependent on our saying,4 as
far as the possibly genuine Jesus tradition is concerned. Neither
Mt. 23.25 par. nor Lk. 10.8 can be regarded as real parallels to
1. Merkel (see previous note) ignores this problem altogether. Typically, Percy
and Johnson are not included in his historical survey ('Markus 7,15', pp. 341-50).
2. Cf. J. Jervell, Luke and the People of God (1972), pp. 139-40. It may be, of
course, that Mk 7 disappears from Luke as part of the 'great omission'. On the other
hand, Lk. 11.37ff. may indicate that Luke knew Mk 7.15; cf. Hiibner, Das Gesetz,
pp. 182ff.
3. Westerholm, Scribal Authority, pp. 81-82 claims both that the saying was
general and unclear in its implications and that it was revolutionary and so startling
that Jesus and the disciples must 'have taken the trouble to see to it that it was
remembered' (p. 81). But he cannot have it both ways.
4. Despite the boom enjoyed now by the Griesbach-Farmer hypothesis, I think
it legitimate to hold fast to Markan priority. If Matthaean priority were assumed, we
would likewise have only a single attestation, since Mark would then depend on
Matthew. It is only on the linguistic issue (see below) that Matthaean priority would
make a difference.
Mk7.15. Mt. 23.25 is not critical of food laws.1 The parallel verse
Lk. 11.41 may be so construed (although its meaning is not too
clear),2 but this verse is obviously secondary to Mt. 23.25.3 And even
if Lk. 10.8 could be ranked as belonging to the Q material,4 it can
hardly be traced back to the historical Jesus.5 If the Lukan Jesus means
that his emissaries should drop all distinctions between clean and
unclean food, as is probable,6 we presumably have before us a maxim
crystallized in the Gentile mission.7 It is incredible that Jesus could
have given so novel a piece of advice in so casual a manner,8 and so
clear an instruction in a mission -context would render the later hesi-
tancy of Peter and others totally unintelligible. In the Gospel of
Thomas (logion 14) the advice that the disciple is to eat whatever he is
1. One may, of course, conjecture that Mt. 23.25 once circulated in a more radi-
cal form, akin to Mk 7.15 (cf. Kummel, 'Aussere und innere Reinheit', p. 42), but
it would be inadmissible to use this guess in an argument about the Markan saying.
2. For different interpretations, see, e.g., Jervell, Luke, p. 140, and Hiibner,
Das Gesetz, p. 188.
3. Lk. 11.41 was regarded as original by Horst, 'Die Worte Jesu', p. 444 and
Branscomb, Jesus and the Law, pp. 199-200. For criticisms, see Merkel, 'Markus
7,15', p. 355 n. 14. Kummel ('Aussere und innere Reinheit', p. 46 n. 58) also
regards Mt. 23.25 as primary; cf. recently for this view D. Garland, The Intention of
Matthew 23 (1979), pp. 144-45.
4. Thus now R. Laufen, Die Doppeluberlieferungen der Logienquelle und des
Markusevangeliums (1980), p. 220.
5. Against M. Hengel, 'Jesus und die Tora', Theologische Beitrdge 9 (1978),
p. 164.
6. E. Klostermann, Das Lukasevangelium (2nd edn, 1929), p. 115 takes v. 8b
(which he attributes to Luke) as a simple repetition of v. 7a which only makes the
point that the disciple may not require more or better food. It is more likely, how-
ever, that v. 8b is not just redundant. In that case Luke has overlooked the tension
between this half-verse and Acts 10 (which favours the assumption that he did not
invent the former himself but got it from his tradition).
7. Thus, e.g., Laufen, Die Doppeluberlieferungen, pp. 220, 274; W.
Grundmann, Das Evangelium nach Lukas (2nd edn, 1961), p. 210; C.K. Barrett, A
Commentary on the First Epistle to the Corinthians (1968), p. 241; J. Ernst, Das
Evangelium nach Lukas (1976), pp. 332-33. On the discussion as to whether the Q
source presupposes the Gentile mission see Laufen, Die Doppeluberlieferungen,
pp. 237ff.
8. Cf. M.-J. Lagrange, Evangile selon Saint Luc (8th edn, 1948), p. 297; 'une
question aussi grave ne pouvait etre tranchee en passant, d'une maniere obscure'.
Lagrange concluded that Lk. 10.8b does not refer to food laws (cf. n. 6).
given is followed by a saying quite like Mt. 15.11, but this combina-
tion (intelligent as it is) is obviously secondary.1
Furthermore, the linguistic criterion is not of much help in our
case. 2 Strikingly enough, a translation into Aramaic is seldom even
attempted. When the attempt was made,3 the 'original' form had to be
reconstructed by combining elements from Mk 7.15 and from the
comment supplied in 7.18b4—a rather improbable situation. More-
over, several Greek words which do not lend themselves to a simple
re translation had first to be deleted from Mark's text.5 It is striking
that Matthew's secondary version can easily be regarded as 'Semitic',
whereas Mark's cannot.6 There remains the argument from the
1. On Gos. Thorn. 14 cf. W. Schrage, Das Verhaltnis des Thomas-Evangeliurns

zur synoptischen Tradition. . .(1964), pp. 52-57.
2. Contrast Luz (in Smend and Luz, Gesetz, p. 149 n. 112) who asserts that
'the Aramaic character of the language' speaks for authenticity.
3. Paschen, Rein und unrein, pp. 176-77, followed by Pesch, Das Markus-
evangelium, p. 379 n. 2, and Westerholm, Scribal Authority, p. 81 (with n. 108);
Hiibner, Das Gesetz, pp. 166-68. For a critical comment, cf. Lambrecht, 'Jesus and
the Law', p. 59. M. Black, An Aramaic Approach to the Gospels and Acts (3rd edn,
1967), pp. 106-107, claimed that avGpoMcoq is used in a strictly Semitic way (in the
sense of TI<;) in Mk 7.15 (18, 20); but in fact ccvGpoorcoq possesses here its full
meaning 'a human being'. See E.C. Maloney, Semitic Interference in Marcan Syntax
(1981), pp. 134, 249.
4. Thus Paschen. This presupposes that two versions (two different transla-
tions?) of the same saying, each containing one significant 'Aramaism' (xa
Koivowca in v. 15b, ox>. . . rcav in v. 18), are used in Mk 7.15ff., one as the
saying proper, the other as its interpretation! Parallel to this is Hiibner's suggestion
(Das Gesetz, pp. 166-67) that the Semitic EKETVO (casus pendens) in v. 20b points
to another version of the saying. There is no reason to resort to such strained con-
structions, unless we assume that any Aramaisms are a priori impossible on a post-
Easter stage in the tradition.
5. Paschen deletes the participles eiarcope\)6M,evov and eK7iopei)6uxva as
Markan additions (Rein und unrein, pp. 173-74), on this procedure see above,
p. 130 nn. 1-5. But in so doing he removes the expression e o n v . . .
eia7cope\)6fxevov from v. 15a; yet he evaluates the analogous ecuv xa KOIVOWCCC
in v. 15b as an 'Aramaic' feature (p. 176)—which does not prevent him from
finally deleting the copula eaxiv from v. 15b as well (afiniteform of hawah 'could
only denote a past event')!
6. One should compare F. Delitzsch's quite literal Hebrew rendering of
Mt. 15.11 with his handling of Mk 7.15 which produces some ten deviations from
the Greek wording! If we are allowed to assume Markan priority, a comparison with
stylistic form, an antithetical parallelism. This is easily compatible

with authenticity and indeed favours it,1 but is in itself no sufficient
criterion.2 Thus inferences from language remain inconclusive.
The criterion of dissimilarity is most often appealed to in this con-
nection. 'This is perhaps the most radical statement in the whole of the
Jesus tradition, and, as such, it is certainly authentic.'3 The limits of
this criterion are by now well-known; but since it is used here posi-
tively, not negatively, it does seem impressive at first sight. But while
being radically different from 'normal' Jewish statements on food
laws, Mk 7.15 is not at all dissimilar to early Christian statements like
Rom. 14.14, 20 or Acts 10.15b.4 To conclude from this that Mk 7.15
is not genuine would, of course, amount to a gross misuse of the cri-
terion of dissimilarity; it cannot function in this way. The point is
merely that no thoroughgoing dissimilarity can be established in this
case and that this particular criterion therefore remains inconclusive.
In his oft-cited essay on Mk 7.15 W.G. Kiimmel, wisely enough,
does not attach crucial weight to any of the criteria discussed so far.
He points, rather, to two other considerations as the decisive ones. On
the one hand, such elements in the Jesus tradition as help 'to explain
the fact of the condemnation and crucifixion of Jesus' may be
regarded as reliable; on the other hand, the criterion of coherence is
particularly important.5 In the light of these two criteria Kiimmel
comes to the conclusion that Mk 7.15 is to be traced back to Jesus
himself, 'with the greatest probability tfcat is possible to attain here'.6
But can these two criteria really perform so much?
To begin with the crucifixion argument: it is, in itself, quite con-
ceivable that Jesus was accused of rejecting purity regulations in
Matthew on this point reveals very clearly that * Semitic' language is no warrant for
originality. One can indeed observe a successive *Aramaicizing' from Mk 7.15 via
Mk 7.18-20 to Mt. 15.11.
1. Cf. Jeremias, Neutestamentliche Theologie, pp. 24-30.
2. Correctly recognized by Kiimmel, 'Aussere und innere Reinheit', p. 38.
3. Perrin, Teaching of Jesus, p. 150 (italics added).
4. MerkeFs attempt ('Markus 7,15', pp. 354-55) to detect a theological differ-
ence between Rom. 14.14 and Mk 7.15 is over-subtle.
5. Kiimmel, * Aussere und innere Reinheit', p. 41. Cf. also Gnilka, Markus,
p. 286; Westerholm, Scribal Authority, p. 81; Klauck, Allegorie und Allegorese,
p. 269.
6. * Aussere und innere Reinheit', p. 43.
general and food laws in particular. Strikingly enough, no such accu-

sation is mentioned in the traditions about the trial of Jesus. Whereas
the conflict over the Sabbath leads, according to Mk 3.6, to a plan to
kill Jesus,1 and according to Jn 5.16 to a persecution of him, and the
obscure Temple saying plays a part (Mk 14.58 par.), no such connec-
tion is established in so many words between a saying like Mk 7.15
and the death of Jesus. Thus the argument remains circular: if Jesus
took a stance to food laws like that indicated in Mk 7.15, then it is
quite conceivable that this played a part in the process that led to his
condemnation (although no direct evidence has survived). But the
silence of the tradition on this point is, of course, even more compat-
ible with the opposite assumption that Jesus did not take such a stance.
It should be emphasized that we know very little about the real
reasons for the crucifixion. That political considerations on the part of
Pilate were more important than is visible in the Gospels is evident;
what motives the Jewish leaders may have had remains too much a
matter of conjecture to invite trust in this particular criterion of
authenticity. Would that we knew at least whether or not the Pharisees
had something to do with the crucifixion!
But what about the coherence? Jesus mixed, it seems, without scru-
ples with 'sinners', who did not meet the demands of the purity regu-
lations of the Torah. Against Moses, he denied to a husband the right
to dismiss his wife. He interpreted the Sabbath command in a humani-
tarian way and took a critical attitude toward the temple. Surely it
would be coherent with the picture thus emerging if he also made a
statement which actually did away with the food laws. There is indeed
no denying this. Nevertheless, it can be asked whether the alternative
view—that Jesus did not make such a statement—would be incompat-
ible with this picture. It should be noted that the above picture is not
unequivocal, for the attitude of Jesus to different parts of the law
seems quite different. In some cases he takes a rigorist stance (divorce,
oaths); in others his attitude seems rather that of a reformer (Sabbath);
it is on some points only that he seems lax towards the Torah or its
current interpretation (mixing with sinners). This leaves ample room
for quite different acts or positions to be deemed 'coherent'!2 It is
1. Yet Mk 3.6 may well be Markan; thus, e.g., Gnilka, Markus, p. 126.
2. Westerholm, Scribal Authority, p. 81 maintains that Jesus 'must have held
some such view as the one here expressed; otherwise he could not have been so
typical of the situation that both those scholars who take Mk 7.15 as
anti-Torah and those who give it a milder interpretation can view the
saying as 'coherent' with the respective total view of the Torah; The
truth is that the criterion of coherence is as circular as any.1
As a further supposed analogy to Mk 7.15, Kiimmel refers in this
connection to the 'oldest antitheses' in Matthew 5 (vv. 21-22, 27-28,
33ff.), in which Jesus sets his ego over against commands of the
Torah. 2 It is questionable, however, whether the antithetical formu-
lation can be traced back to the historical Jesus even in these three
cases. 3 Even if it could, it is not clear what inferences should be
drawn. In the first antithesis a command of the Torah is intensified. In
the remaining two cases a precept of the law is actually superseded—
by a more rigorous command; in both cases parallels from Qumran
can be adduced. The speaker of these antitheses brings nothing very
novel. The liberalism of Mk 7.15 is a different matter. It seems there-
fore precarious to assert on the basis of the antitheses that Jesus set his
personal claim above that of the Torah and to use this as confirmatory
evidence for the authenticity of Mk 7.15. Moreover, no christological
motivation is visible in Mk 7.15;4 the mashal seems rather to present a
truth which is obvious to common sense.5
indifferent to considerations of ritual purity' as his eating in the company of * sinners'

shows him to have been. This statement is acceptable, if 'some' is emphasized. In
some very broad sense (and Westerholm himself interprets Mk 7.15 in a 'mild' way)
a certain amount of indifference to cultic stipulations was surely necessary for Jesus.
But Mk 7.15a goes a good deal beyond what was necessary for that practical attitude.
It is one thing to take a liberal attitude to Pharisaic interpretations of purity laws; it is
another to state a principle which in fact invalidates the divine law for which the
fathers had died a martyr's death two centuries earlier. It is quite unlikely that Jesus
ate pork with the 'sinners'!
1. Jeremias, Neutestamentliche Theologie, p. 203 suggests indeed that on the
radical interpretation the saying is incoherent with the total picture, similarly Smend
and Luz, Gesetz, p. 60. On Jesus' attitude to the law see now E.P. Sanders, Jesus
and Judaism (1985), pp. 245ff.
2. 'Aussere und innere Reinheit', p. 43; cf. U.B. Miiller, 'Vision und
Botschaft', ZTK 14 (1977), p. 440.
3. I. Broer has, among others, recently argued that it goes back to Matthaean
Tedaction(FreiheitvomGesetzundRadikalisierungdes Gesetzes [1980], pp. 102ff.).
4. Against Lambrecht, 'Jesus and the Law', p. 79; correctly in this regard
Berger, Die Gesetzesauslegung, p. 577.
5. There is no explicit reference to the notion of the goodness of the creation
The proper conclusion to be drawn from the above discussion is not

necessarily that the authenticity of Mk 7.15 should be called into
question. It is enough to say that the arguments advanced for authen-
ticity remain inconclusive. But I have not yet dealt with the main
objection raised by some scholars against authenticity. This will be my
concern in what follows.1
Ill
Occasionally the authenticity of Mk 7.15 has been questioned on
insufficient grounds. Schulz rejects it simply because the logion is not
found in Q, the oldest layer of which he regards as the only serious
candidate to have preserved genuine sayings of Jesus.2 Again, it is
probably too sweeping to state, as does Schoeps,3 that Mk 7.15 is the
only one among the sayings attributed to Jesus that really contradicts
some parts of the Torah (and not just some of its interpretations).
Berger postulates a large antinomian current in Hellenistic Judaism;
Mk 7.15 is, he thinks, influenced by that current and therefore
inauthentic.4 It is, however, quite unlikely that ritual laws were
neglected among Dispersion Jews.5
These, however, are not the usual grounds advanced by the minor-
ity who have doubted the authenticity of the saying. The decisive
argument was always this: given the early existence of such a radical
saying, it is startling that no one ever seems to have made use of it in
the subsequent turbulent decades. As Carlston puts it,
[the saying in fact] renders the controversies in the primitive Church over
the keeping of the law incredible. . . If Jesus ever said, 'There is nothing
either, which Miiller, 'Vision und Botschaft', p. 439 sees behind Mk 7.15; correctly
Merkel, 'Markus 7,15', p. 355 n. 114. That idea may stand behind the secondary
verse Lk. 11.40.
1. It is a decisive weakness in Kummel's instructive survey that he does not
consider this objection at all seriously.
2. Cf. above, p. 128 n. 3.
3. Studien, pp. 52-53 (as a possibility).
4. Cf. above p. 128 n. 3.
5. See H. Hubner, 'Mark 7.1-23 und das "judisch-hellenistische" Gesetzes-
verstandnis', NTS 22 (1975-76), pp. 319-45; also H. Raisanen, Paul and the Law
(1983), pp. 34-41.
outside of man. . . ' his break with the Law would have been instantly
recognized by friend and foe alike as complete. . . l
Here is the place to try the criterion of 'pregnant speech' proposed
by Stephen Westerholm, a pupil of Gerhadsson. A useful indication of
authenticity is, he maintains,
any sign that it has generated, or been the object of, further reflection, or
that it has been applied to situations arising within the early church. This
takes into account the inherent probability that Jesus did impress some-
thing of what he had to say on his followers, and that they regarded his
words as authoritative. Especially is this to be reckoned with where the
saying in question is concise, rhythmic and formulated to provoke further
thought: indications that we are dealing with words which the Master of
the mashal intended to be remembered and pondered.2
Westerholm thinks that the mashal Mk 7.15 meets these requirements
and that we do have 'evidence that the verse was recalled, commented
upon, and applied in the halakhic disputes of the early church'.3 But,
if anything, the criterion of pregnant speech points, in our case, to a
negative direction! For Westerholm's evidence is slender: Mk 7.19c
and Rom. 14.14.4
Mk 7.19c is a Markan or pre-Markan comment on a pre-Markan
tradition and tells us little about the age of the saying commented
upon, except that it must pre-date the commentary. As for Rom.
14.14, the following considerations suggest that Paul is not referring
to a saying of the historical Jesus.
It is often assumed, but without proper justification,5 that in
1. 'The Things that Defile', p. 95.

2. Scribal Authority, p. 6; cf. B. Gerhardsson, Die Anfdnge der Evangelien-
tradition (1977), pp. 50-51.
3. Scribal Authority, p. 81.
4. Scribal Authority, p. 81-82; likewise Smend and Luz, Gesetz, p. 149
n. 112.
5. Actually, the only argument offered in support of this is the assumption that
the mention of the name Jesus (rather than the Kyrios title) could be an indication of
dependence on the earthly Jesus. So, following the example of T. Zahn, B. Weiss
and MJ. Lagrange, recently F.-J. Leenhardt, L'ipitre de Saint Paul aux Romains
(CNT, 6; Neuchatel-Paris, 1957), p. 198 n. 3; C.E.B. Cranfield, A Critical and
Exegetical Commentary on the Epistle to the Romans (ICC; Edinburgh, 1979), II,
pp. 712-13 (with reservations). The argument is rather weak: (1) When Paul is
clearly referring to the earthly Jesus he generally uses the Kyrios title (1 Cor. 7.12,
Rom. 14.14 there is an allusion to the dominical saying in Mk 7.15.

In the first place, it is noticeable that the wording that Rom. 14.14
and Mk. 7.15 hold in common is limited to the two words ot>8ev and
Koivov/Koivcoacci. If this is supposed to be an indication of Paul's
knowledge of the dominical saying, then we should also have to credit
the apostle with knowledge of the Markan framework, since the
expression rcdvxa (viz. Ppcoûxta [v. 20a]) jêv KccGccpd, which
appears when the idea is taken up again in Rom. 14.20, coincides with
the secondary commentary KocGapi^cov Tcdvxa i d ppcojxaia
(Mk 7.19). Secondly, it would be strange that Paul should quote the
dominical saying only in what is really a peripheral context, when he
is discussing an adiaphoron, but not in his central arguments about the
law. Thirdly, in the light of parallel Pauline statements the expression
oi8a Koci Tcerceiajiai ev Kupup yIi\oov can scarcely be understood as a
quotation formula. Compare the following parallels:
Rom. 14.14 oi8a Kai neneioiiai ev icupup 'Iriaov oxi o\>8ev
KOIVOV...
Gal. 5.10 eyd) nenoiQa ei<; \)u.a<; ev Kupup oxi. oi>8ev aAAo
(ppoviiaexe. . .
Phil. 2.24 nercoiGa Seevicupicp oxi. . .xa%eox; e^coaoum. . .
Phil. 1.25 Kal xouxo TCCTCOIGOX; oiSa oxi p.evc5
Rom. 15.14 8 e . . . 7 c e p l v[i&v o x i . . . ^ i e a x o ( eaxe
Rom. 8.38 rcerceiaiLiai yap oxi ome 6dvaxo<;.. .otfxe x

8\)viioexai f||xa<; xcopioai anb xfj^ aydnr](; %ox>
xf]<; ev Xpiax^ 'It|aoi) x^ icup{q) fm©v.
(2 Thess. 3.4 rcercoOaêv 8e ev Kupico ecp' i)|ia^, oxi . . . 7coir|aexe.)
(2 Tim. 1.12 olSa yap © nenioievKa Kai icerceiaîai oxi 8x>vaxo<;
eaxiv. . . )
In each case 'confidence' refers to the inner conviction that has been
won as a result of being in fellowship with Christ. Where Paul is
25; 9.14)! (2) The form 6 icvpux; 'Ir)oo\)<; ('lr[oox><; is missing in ?>46) is indeed
found as a designation of the earthly Jesus in 1 Cor. 11.23 and 1 Thess. 2.15; in
2 Cor. 4.14 the expression designates the risen Jesus (icupioq is missing in p 4 6 ) .
However, in several passages 6 id)pio<; (fmxov) 'Ir|ao{)<; clearly means the ascended
Lord; without f^wv in 1 Cor. 16.23; 2 Cor. 11.31; Phil. 2.19; 1 Thess. 4.1, 2;
with fiuxov (sometimes text-critically uncertain): 1 Cor. 5.4 (2x); 2 Cor. 1.14; 1
Thess. 2.19; 3.11, 13.
1. Rom. 8.38, 14.14 and 15.14 are the only passages where Tcerceiaum occurs
in Paul.
undisputedly citing a dominical saying, his wording is quite different.

The Lord 'commands' (icapayyeêiv, 1 Cor. 7.10) or 'has instructed'
v, 1 Cor. 9.14); a 'commandment of the Lord' is required
leopioi), 1 Cor. 7.25; cf. icupun) evxoA,T\, 1 Cor. 14.37,
where the exegesis is disputed). In 1 Thess. 4.15 Paul appeals to a
AxSyoq icoputt), though it is disputed whether he knew the word from
tradition or perhaps received it as a direct revelation: but the wording
in Rom. 14.14 does not even indicate the latter.1
What we have in Rom 14.14, then, is an insight which Paul obtained
from his faith on the basis of his fellowship with Christ.2 He had no
dominical saying at his disposal.
The weight of the argument from the missing Wirkungsgeschichte
is often played down by suggesting that, while the conservative Jewish
Christians in Jerusalem were not bold enough to assimilate the mes-
sage of Jesus at this point, other groups were less scrupulous, for
example the Hellenists around Stephen.3 This is dubious. It is difficult
enough to understand how a number of Christians could cling to the
law, if Jesus had fought against it, as many suppose. But this is not yet
the whole story. In fact, there is no evidence that anybody, conserva-
tive or radical, ever appealed to this saying in the course of the
debates over Gentile mission and table fellowship during the first two
decades or so in the early church. Paul never refers to it, although it
could have aided him greatly in many of his arguments. How effective
it would have been to quote such a saying to Peter (a person surely
sensitive to words of the historical Jesus!) and others in the heat of the
Antiochian conflict (Gal. 2.1 Iff.), in which Paul, with all his post-
Easter theological arguments, evidently was the losing party. One
wonders, too, whether it might not have made sense to him to hint,
elsewhere in Galatians,4 at the position taken by Jesus. Even more
1. In 1 Thess. 4.2 there is also no indication of a reference to verba domini; cf.

Rom 15.30 and see E. Best, A Commentary on the First and Second Epistles to the
Thessalonians (BNTC; London, 1972), pp. 157-58.
2. So, among others, H. Lietzmann, An die Romer (HNT, 8; Tubingen, 5th
edn, 1971), p. 117; A. Schlatter, Gottes Gerechtigkeit (Stuttgart, 1935), p. 374;
C.K. Barrett, A Commentary on the Epistle to the Romans (BNTC; London, 1957),
p. 263.
3. Thus, e.g., Hiibner, Das Gesetz, pp. 174-75; Gnilka, Markus, p. 286.
4. Admittedly, the issue in Galatia was circumcision rather than food laws; but
circumcision was a first step which would surely have been followed by observance
strikingly, perhaps, Paul refrains from using the saying in his discus-
sion of meat offered to idols (1 Cor. 8); yet, immediately before and
after the chapter in question, he does appeal to sayings of the histori-
cal Jesus (7.10, 9.14; cf. 7.25).1 Nor does he have recourse to it when
talking about the ascetic practices of the 'weak' disciples in Rome.
But if Paul did not know of Mk 7.15, we must infer that the saying
was unknown to the congregation in Antioch. And when we take into
account that Antioch was the most likely place for the traditions of the
'Hellenists' to take root, the conclusion lies at hand that the Stephen
group (whatever precisely its attitude to the law)2 was not in posses-
sion of such a saying either.3
According to Acts 15, sayings of Jesus played no part in the
of all stipulations of the Torah, including the food laws. (I am not persuaded by
theories that Paul's Galatian opponents had a selective attitude to the law; to read this
from statements like Gal. 6.13 is to misunderstand the polemical nature of Paul's
argument.) See also p. 144 n. 1. We do hear about calendar matters in Gal. 4.10,
and it would have been possible at least to insert a reference to what Jesus had said
about foods and apply it to other 'external' matters (cf. the close connection between
circumcision, feasts and food laws in Col. 2).
1. I am aware of dangers involved in an argument from silence. It may turn out
to be too 'effective', if it makes impossible to find an early Sitz im Leben for numer-
ous other parts of the Synoptic tradition, for example, for the conflict stories about
the Sabbath. Thus Paul does not refer to Synoptic Sabbath stories in Gal. 4.8-11;
indeed, he seems not to have known them (Gnilka, Markus, pp. 129-30). Does my
argument, by way of analogy, require the absurd conclusion that the traditions were
not in existence at that time? I think not. At any rate, we do not learn that Sabbath
was such a burning issue in the Gentile mission as was the problem of table fellow-
ship; the question never figures in Acts and seems to be one remove further from the
critical centre than is the problem of table fellowship. But surely questions like this
still require further reflection.
2. See below, Chapter 7.
3. Cf. U.B. Miiller, 'Zur Rezeption gesetzeskritischer Jesusiiberlieferung im
friihen Christentum', NTS 27 (1981), pp. 165, 167. For understanding the modest
role played by the 'Hellenists' in handing on the Jesus tradition, U. Wilckens's
article, 'Jesusiiberlieferung und Christuskerygma—zwei Wege urchristlicher
Uberlieferungsgeschichte', Theologia Viatorum 10 (1965-66), pp. 310-39, is
fundamental. The Hellenists were more or less outsiders to the teaching enterprise
(Lehrbetrieb) of the Aramaic-speaking community in Jerusalem. They did learn some
sayings of Jesus which were handed on, for example, to Paul (cf. 1 Cor. 7), but not
very many. This is quite compatible with Gerhardsson's thesis that transmission of
tradition was an independent Sitz im Leben: Evangelientradition, p. 48 etc.
Jerusalem meeting. What counted there was the appeal to experi-

ence—Gentiles had received the spirit without being circumcised. This
is not just Lukan style, for Gal. 2.8 also refers to the argument from
experience.1
It seems that the acceptance of Gentiles into Christian congregations
without circumcision, as well as interaction with them without regard
to food laws, began spontaneously, without a 'theological' decision.
'Action preceded theology'. 2 Rom. 14.14 still expresses the early
sentiment. That verse gives expression to a conviction reached in
faith, instinctively as it were, that nothing is unclean of itself; nothing
is allowed to stand in the way of fraternal communication within the
community. But at some point a need for more reflective theological
arguments must have made itself felt, the more so as a 'Judaizing'
restoration program raised the claim that Gentile Christians be cir-
cumcised and observe the Torah. The quest for arguments is evident
in the story of Peter's vision (Acts 10).3 Here it is the bat qol who
teaches Peter that all food and all people have been cleansed by God.4
The story presupposes that Peter is not aware of a previous ruling by
the historical Jesus to the same effect. No wonder Luke omitted Mark
7 in his Gospel! If we may assume that the vision story comes from
'Petrine' circles this could suggest that Peter, certainly one of the
main bearers of the Jesus tradition, did not hand on a saying like
Mk 7.15 in his teaching.5
1. Of course, the issue at hand was circumcision, not food laws; but both Acts
11.3 and the Apostolic Decree show that it was very hard to separate the two issues
for long in practice.
2. J. Jervell, Luke, p. 136; cf. S.G. Wilson, The Gentiles and the Gentile
Mission in Luke-Acts (1973), p. 152.
3. That the story of the vision is secondary to the insight expressed in Acts
10.15b (11.9b) is recognized by Paschen, Rein und unrein, pp. 171-72; he also
notes that Paul received his idea of the cleanness of foods from that very tradition
which is reflected in Acts 10.15b. It is not clear to me how Paschen manages to
combine this notion with the other assumption that Paul appeals to Jesus tradition in
Rom. 14.
4. To be sure, Luke takes the message to be that all human beings are clean; the
importance he attaches to the Decree shows that, for him, all foods were not clean, as
far as Jewish Christians were concerned. This does not exclude the likelihood that
originally the story of the vision was concerned with the food question. See
H. Conzelmann, Die Apostelgeschichte (1963), pp. 61-62.
5. If we may connect the historical Peter with the vision story, this would be
IV
If Mk 7.15 was nevertheless part of the living tradition from the
outset, then who preserved it? And why was it preserved at all, if it
was not used?
If neither Jerusalem nor Antioch come into the reckoning as the
place of transmission, one may resort to the (unknown and largely
hypothetical) congregation(s) in Galilee. One could try to reconstruct
a theology of Galilaean circles engaged in Gentile mission and regard
them as bearers of sayings like Mk 7.15.1 But if there was an early
Galilaean community with a distinctly 'liberal' theology of the Torah,
it is astonishing that we hear of no conflicts between them and
Jerusalem.
As for the 'why' question, the answer makes little sense that, as a
word of the Lord, the saying was faithfully preserved even though it
was not understood.2 It is rather difficult to maintain that during the
first quarter of century or so after the crucifixion no one recognized
the force of the saying or its potential significance for the ongoing
theological battles, whereas that significance seems to have been
grasped immediately after the battle was over (within, say, a decade
after the writing of Romans). The assumption of an originally non-
radical genuine saying faces the same difficulty: during the formative
decades no implications of the saying were seen, whereas they seem to
have become crystal clear as soon as the battle had been won on other
grounds. All this may not be impossible to account for. Yet I find
another solution a lot more plausible.
It seems to me much more likely that Mark is influenced by the
insights gained in the Gentile mission, expressed by Paul in Rom.
14.14, 20, than that Paul is dependent on Jesus. It should be noted that
Paul's wording is closer to the secondary comment Ka0ap{£cov
rcdvxa xa Ppcouxxxa (cf. Rom. 14.20: rcdvxa [sc. ppcou.axa] uxv
KccGapd) than to the saying itself. I suggest that Mk 7.15 reflects an
attempt to find a theological justification for the practical step taken in
the Gentile mission long before, much as Mt. 28.18-20 gives such a
another indication that Papias's statement on Mark is inaccurate.

1. Cf. Muller, 'Uberlieferung', pp. 168-82.
2. Against Haenchen, Der Weg Jesu, p. 266; Westerholm, Scribal Authority,
pp. 81-82 (see above, p. 133 n. 3).
justification in retrospect for the mission itself by tracing its beginning

back to a commandment of the (this time, risen) Lord (which would,
had it really been given at the first Easter, likewise render the subse-
quent development unintelligible). Mk 7.15 should be seen as an
attempt parallel to the appeal to a vision of Peter: where some circles
resorted to appeal to the guidance of the Spirit, others took refuge in
the earthly Jesus. Possibly the saying first came into being as a
remoulding of some version of Mt. 23.25-26.1
On this hypothesis no gap needs to be posited between the saying
and its interpretation. To be sure, vv. 18ff. were attached later to
Mk 7.15, but the interval need not have been long. Above all, there is
no reason to assume that the interpretation was devised by another
group than that behind v. 15. Both commentaries (vv. 18c-19 and
vv. 20-23) can be seen as quite congenial interpretations of v. 15.
Still, literary-critical considerations demand the assumption of succes-
sive stages. The redundant eXtyzv 8e in v. 20 indicates that vv. 20-23
are an addition. The strangely detached position of the important
clause Ka0ap{£cGV rcavxa xa ppco|iaxa (v. 19c) suggests that it, too,
has been added, presumably by Mark.2 Finally, the composition of
vv. 17, 18a, 18b shows characteristic signs of Markan redaction. Yet
Mark must have had before him some traditional material, which
formed a bridge between the saying and its exposition.
The primary datum was the saying in v. 15 (not necessarily in
exactly the same form as in Mark). Soon an explanation was added
which correctly made it plain that the reference was to food laws,
which were repudiated by Jesus. Still later an explanation of the latter
part of the saying was attached, which listed the various evil capacities
of the human heart. All this work took place in an 'emancipated'
Jewish Christian group (icoivcoaai is 'Jewish Greek') 3 engaged in
Gentile mission, akin to Paul in many respects (though not necessarily
closely associated with him); the sarcasm in v. 19 is indeed compa-
rable to Paul's outbursts in Gal. 5.12 or in Phil. 3.2. Mark, who must
have stood fairly close to this group (perhaps he belonged to it), took
1. On the possibility that bearers of pre-Markan traditions were acquainted with

Q traditions, see Laufen, Die Doppeliiberlieferungen.
2. Thus, e.g., Gnilka, Markus, p. 278.
3. Paschen, Rein und unrein, pp. 165-68; Kummel, 'Aussere und innere
Reinheit', p. 38.
up this small unit, adapted it to his peculiar 'public teaching/private

explanation' scheme, provided it with an introduction (v. 14) and
incorporated it into his Gospel as a sequel to Jesus' controversy with
the Pharisees and the Scribes.1 All this could have taken place within a
few years (or even months; there is no way of telling).
When this hypothesis is related to the earlier discussion of authenti-
cating criteria, its plausibility is enhanced. The scanty attestation is
just what might be expected, and the small non-Semitic features gain
significance as modest pointers to the origin of the saying (I would
guess that the group was largely bilingual). The reasons for the cruci-
fixion are a matter of educated guessing anyway, and we can still pro-
duce a reasonably coherent picture of Jesus' words and deeds even
assuming that he did not repudiate food laws. The picture, however,
takes on a somewhat less iconoclastic shape than that painted by
Kummel and others. Just how radical Jesus was regarding the law
depends largely on whether or not he made a statement like Mk 7.15.
Let me add, to avoid misunderstanding, that the present article is
not motivated by a concern to present Jesus, for whatever reasons, in
a less radical light. (In fact, a 'radical' Jesus would be more conve-
nient for my own personal theology.) Nor am I trying to establish any
wholesale solution to the problem of ipsissima verba? The issue at
hand is strictly the historical puzzle posed by the (missing)
Wirkungsgeschichte of this particular saying.
To summarize, Mk 7.15 could be integrated without much difficulty
into the total teaching of Jesus as portrayed in the Gospels. It is
difficult, however, to account for subsequent Christian developments
on the assumption of its authenticity. On the assumption of wauthen-
ticity these developments are easily explicable. I do not claim, how-
ever, that the problem has been definitively solved. The solution here
1. It will be seen that my hypothesis presupposes the (majority) view that

Mk 7.15 did not originally belong together with v. 5; it must be left for others to
consider whether it can in turn serve to strengthen that analysis. For the opposite
view, see p. 129 n. 3.
2. Thus I would not, in principle, 'advise scepticism whenever the matter is in
doubt', as Westerholm {Scribal Authority, p. 6) describes 'the tendency in current
gospel research'. For instance, I do not see why Jesus could not have replied to a
query of the Pharisees in the way indicated in Mk 7.9-13, or even in 7.6-8 (of course
he did not cite the LXX as do vv. 6-7, but the point of Isa. 29.13 is not much differ-
ent in the MT); cf. Westerholm, Scribal Authority, pp. 75-80.
presented relies largely on an argument from silence, and the objec-

tion may be raised that we simply know too little of the way sayings
of Jesus were used in early Christianity. The question may have to be
left open: but it should be recognized that a reasonably good case can
be made for the inauthenticity hypothesis.1 To say the least, the accu-
sation of wild scepticism is without any foundation whatsoever, there
is little reason to lament a crisis in NT scholarship.2 The fact that no
final answer can be given would only witness to a crisis, if we abso-
lutely had to know more about Jesus and early Christianity than is
really possible on the basis of our extant sources.
1. This is admitted by some advocates of the traditional view; e.g. Htibner, Das
Gesetz, p. 172.
2. See above, pp. 127-28.
Chapter 7
THE 'HELLENISTS': A BRIDGE BETWEEN JESUS AND PAUL?*
It is commonly held that the 'Hellenists' around Stephen constituted an

important link between the historical Jesus and Paul, especially on the
question of the law, but also in more general terms. Thus, Martin
Hengel concludes his influential essay on the subject as follows:
We owe the real bridge between Jesus and Paul to those almost unknown
Jewish-Christian 'Hellenists' of the group around Stephen and the first
Greek-speaking community in Jerusalem which they founded; this was
the first to translate the Jesus tradition into Greek and at the same time
prepared the way for Paul's preaching of freedom by its criticism of the
ritual law and the cult. Only this community can be called the 'pre-Pauline
Hellenistic community' in the full sense of the word.1
There is a large scholarly consensus that from Acts 6-8 and 11.19ff.
some essential features of the Hellenists' story can be reconstructed.
The Hellenists were Greek-speaking Jews who had come to Jerusalem
from the Dispersion and had been converted to the new faith. In
* An earlier draft of this paper was presented to the 'Jesus and Paul' seminar
group of the SNTS meeting in Trondheim, August 1985.1 am indebted to Gerhard
Sellin for a very helpful response which pushed me to proceed to the hypothesis
suggested below in §11. Comments made by other scholars have also helped me to
improve this paper; my thanks are due in particular to L. Aejmelaeus, J. Kiilunen,
E.P. Sanders, C. Tuckett, F. Watson, A.J.M. Wedderburn and A. Weiser. Several
authors have provided me with unpublished material from which I have profited.
The reader is in particular invited to consult A.J.M. Wedderburn's subsequent
paper 'Paul and Jesus: Similarity and Continuity', NTS 34 (1988), pp. 161-82,
which has led me to modify some formulations in the present article. See further my
forthcoming article 'Die "Hellenisten" der Urgemeinde', in ANRW II.26.2.
1. M. Hengel, Between Jesus and Paul: Studies in the Earliest History of
Christianity (1983), p. 29.
Jerusalem they formed a congregation of their own, led by a group of

'Seven', the members of which are listed in Acts 6.5. Stephen, their
leader, was killed because of his liberal preaching. Other members of
the Hellenist congregation were persecuted and had to leave the city,
whereas the 'Hebrews' seem to have suffered no harm.1 Expelled
from Jerusalem, the Hellenists were dispersed into various directions.
They started mission work among Samaritans (Philip) and finally also
among Gentiles. They founded the mixed Jewish-Gentile congregation
in Antioch, where circumcision and ritual purity were not required of
Gentile converts. It was these Hellenists that Paul persecuted; it was
them he joined as a result of his call experience. Paul then became a
member of the Antiochene congregation and a missionary worker on
its behalf. He built his.individual theology, for example his particular
ideas about justification and the law, on foundations laid by the
Hellenists.
In what follows my interest will focus solely on the question of the
law. I wish to examine whether the Stephen group can really be
regarded as a 'bridge' between Jesus and Paul in this matter.2 No total
assessment of the theology and influence of the Hellenists can be
attempted here. Indeed, some scholars would hold even my present,
much more limited, task to be a search for a phantom. It has occa-
sionally been claimed that the hypothesis of a primitive Hellenist
community in Jerusalem has 'no basis at all in the sources'.3 Before
1. E. Larsson, 'Die Hellenisten und die Urgemeinde', NTS 33 (1987),

pp. 205-25 (p. 222) doubts this consensus, but his reference to Luke's view is not
a valid historical argument.
2. Scholars other than Hengel who have taken such a view include
G. Schneider, Die Apostelgeschichte (HTKNT, 5; 1980), I, p. 416; A. Weiser,
Die Apostelgeschichte (OTK, 5; 1981), I, p. 168; N. Walter, 'Paul and the Early
Christian Jesus-Tradition', in AJ.M. Wedderburn (ed.), Paul and Jesus: Collected
Essays (JSNTSup, 37; 1989), pp. 51-80 (pp. 74-75); C. Dietzfelbinger, Die
Berufung des Paulus als Ursprung seiner Theologie (WMANT, 58; 1985), pp. 21-
22. For more references, see A. Weiser, 'Zur Gesetzes- und Tempelkritik der
"Hellenisten"', in K. Kertelge (ed.), Das Gesetz im Neuen Testament (QD, 108;
1986), pp. 146-68, (p. 164 n. 46). Others regard the Hellenists and Peter as such a
bridge; e.g. P. Stuhlmacher, Versohnung, Gesetz und Gerechtigkeit: Aufsdtze zur
biblischen Theologie (1981), p. 114.
3. G. Schille, Die Apostelgeschichte des Lukas (THKNT, 5; 2nd edn, 1984),
p. 166; likewise F. Watson, Paul, Judaism and the Gentiles: A Sociological
Approach (SNTSMS; 1986), pp. 26-27:
7. The 'Hellenists': A Bridge between Jesus and Paul? 151
attempting a reconstruction of a Hellenist theology of the law, we

must, therefore, address ourselves to the question, did the Hellenists
ever exist as a distinct group in Jerusalem?
1. The Evidence for the Existence of the Hellenists

It has to be admitted at once that the evidence for the Hellenists is not
as strong as is generally assumed. In the first place, it is very difficult
to uphold the time-honoured hypothesis of an Antiochene source
behind Acts 6.1-15, 7.54-8.3, 8.4-40 and 11.19-26.1
a. The fact alone that Stephen and Philip do not feature in the role
('table-servant') assigned to them in 6.1-7, as the story of the Seven
goes on, speaks against the assumption of 'a Stephen cycle prior to the
Lukan redaction'.2 If there was a source, at least this section did not
belong to it. Most of the passage stems from Luke's pen, as has been
demonstrated by Lienhard and Schneider.
The first half of v. 1 is Lukan.3 As for the rest, the sudden appear-
ance of the two factions without a word of explanation points to tradi-
tional information, as does the rather vague reference to a conflict.
Luke did not spin his account out of thin air, but nothing in v. 1
requires the assumption of a written source.4 Verses 2-4 are 'probably
Indeed, it seems very doubtful if there ever were two groups in the Jerusalem church,
the Hellenists and the Hebrews. . . it may be that later tension between Jerusalem and
Antioch (cf. Gal. 2) has been retrojected back into the earliest days of the Jerusalem
church.
Watson regards Paul and Barnabas as the founders of the Gentile mission (p. 32).
1. Shared, e.g., by Hengel, Between, p. 4.
2. Correctly J.T. Lienhard, 'Acts 6:1-6: A Redactional View', CBQ 37 (1975),
pp. 228-36 (p. 230); Schneider, Apostelgeschichte, p. 421.
3. Lienhard, 'Acts 6:1-6', pp. 230-31. |ia0r|xa{ as a name for Christians is
valued as an indication of tradition by Hengel, Between, p. 3; J. Roloff, Die
Apostelgeschichte (NTD, 5; 1981), p. 107. But even though the designation is
absent in earlier chapters of Acts, it should rather be taken as a sign of Luke's redac-
tional work. The idea of the growing number of the 'disciples' ties with the redac-
tional summaries in the preceding chapters.
4. To be sure, Koc9r|u.£pivr| is a hapax in the NT; cf. Hengel, Between, pp. 3-
4. Luke does use (TO) KCIG' fiuipocv many times, however, even in the preceding
summaries (2.46, 47; cf. rcaaocv rqv f|uipav 5.42). That the adjective is used
nowhere else need not mean anything, for this is the only instance syntactically
a Lukan composition',1 the speech of the Twelve drawing on OT

models. 2 Verse 5a presupposes vv. 2-4 and is to be ascribed to the
same author. The list of names in v. 5b is no doubt traditional, how-
ever. Verses 6 and 7 are Lukan.
In sum, the account is a Lukan composition, composed after OT
models around a few bits of received information: the knowledge of
the existence of a group of Seven (plus the names, all Greek) and of a
division of the Jerusalem community into 'Hebrews' and 'Hellenists',
and some knowledge of a conflict between the parties.3 But apart from
where Luke needs an adjective denoting 'daily*. The other hapax 7capa0ecopeto9ai
('un-Lucan': Hengel, Between, p. 3) is hardly enough to point to tradition; in this
case, too, one may ask whether Luke had a chance to use this verb anywhere else.
yoyyx>o\io<; is a hapax in Luke (cf. Hengel, Between, p. 3), but yoyyoêiv is found
in Lk. 5.30 (diff. Mk 2.16), likewise construed with rcpoq (see Schneider,
Apostelgeschichte, p. 423). Moreover, Siayoyyuêiv occurs in editorial sentences in
Lk. 5.12; 19.7 (but nowhere else in the NT).
1. Lienhard, 'Acts 6:1-6', p. 231. Hengel (Between, p. 4) finds ol 6co8eKa
'striking, since elsewhere Luke speaks only of the "Apostles"'; so also Roloff,
Apostelgeschichte, p. 107. But Luke does use the phrase some half a dozen times in
his Gospel, and here its choice would seem to be determined by the contrast to 'the
Seven' (J. Bihler, Die Stephanusgeschichte [MTS, 16; 1963], p. 194; Schneider,
Apostelgeschichte, p. 424 n. 30).
2. E. Richard (Acts 6:1-8:4: The Author's Method of Composition [SBLDS;
1978], p. 270) points out several striking resemblances to the account of Joseph's
installation in Gen. 41, esp. vv. 33, 37, 38, 41. The same story has been used in
Stephen's speech. Richard (Acts 6:1-8:4, pp. 27Iff.) further argues that an OT
model has been used in Acts 6.2ff. in much the same way as OT models are used in
the speech of Stephen (i.e., 'similarity of structure and idea has brought about the con-
flation of several passages', p. 271). Richard (p. 273) concludes that Acts 6.1-7 is
the work of the author of Acts who used various traditional elements, however.
3. If one assumes, as most scholars do, that something like the charity system
later described in rabbinic sources was already in existence in Jerusalem, a grave
historical problem arises: Why should the early Christian community have had a
parallel organization of its own for the care of the poor? That would only make sense
if the community had broken away from the Synagogue—as early as c. 32 AD! The
problem is seen by D. Seccombe ('Was there Organized Charity in Jerusalem before
the Christians?', JTS 29 [1978], pp. 140-43 [p. 140]) and N. Walter
('Apostelgeschichte 6.1 und die Anfange der Urgemeinde in Jerusalem', NTS 29
[1983], pp. 370-93 [p. 381]). Seccombe denies with strong reasons the existence
of a Jewish charity system at this stage; the Christians took a new step, although the
Essenes may have provided a model. He is followed by Weiser (Apostelgeschichte,
p. 165). If one does not follow Seccombe, the natural conclusion is that 'Luke's
the name list Luke's knowledge seems so vague that it is very difficult
to assume an old written source. And if there was one, then Luke must
have confused it considerably. His account, it should be remembered,
differs markedly from the story of the Hellenists as normally
reconstructed by modern scholars.1
But even with a more modest view of Luke's editorial activity in
Acts 6.1-7 the fact remains that the role assigned to Stephen and Philip
does not match the description of their activities in 6.8ff. and 8.4ff.
Moreover, the name list, which on any reading is the hardest core of
the story, does not point to Antioch. Not a single name reappears in
the undoubtedly Antiochene list in Acts 13.1. Instead, Philip gets to
Caesarea (8.40; 21.8) and Nicolaus, the Antiochene proselyte, whom
at least we would expect to meet in his former residence, is located in
Christian lore in Asia minor as the founder of the sect of the
Nicolaitans (cf. Rev. 2.6, 15). The others simply disappear.
picture of the early days of the Jerusalem community is at least anachronistic'

(Seccombe, Charity', p. 140).
1. Even Hengel (Between, p. 13), for all his polemics against critics of Luke's
work, allows among other things that the appointment of the Seven was the cause of
a conflict rather than its consequence, as Luke suggests. Even Hengel allows that the
Seven were in fact leaders of the Hellenist faction rather than table servants of the
whole community, or that the persecution which followed touched at least principally
the 'Hellenists'—not everybody except the apostles, as Luke has it. E. Haenchen's
comment (Die Apostelgeschichte [KEK; 7th edn, 1977], p. 96) is to the point: if
Luke had an old source at his disposal, it is incomprehensible that he
should have twisted what he read in this old chroncile into its very opposite, as must
have happened in his account of the election of the Seven.
One may compare Hengel's assessment of Acts 15 (Between, p. 168 n. 18):

'Luke's account is based on 'his Antiochene source', yet 'the speeches are redac-
tional, but as a historical nucleus they contain the positive agreement on the question
of law and circumcision'. Luke's account cannot be reconciled with Paul's regarding
the Apostolic Decree. 'Here Luke may have introduced a later, local agreement. . . '
But if the speeches are Lukan and the decision an addition, there is not much left to
justify the assumption of a source. And if there was a source, apparently Luke did
not consider it reliable, as he has changed it so substantially (in his account,
everything aims at the Decree). Once more, the existence of a (good) Antiochene
source seems doubtful and Hengel's animosity against what he calls 'uncritical
criticism' or anti-historical 'hyper-criticism' (represented by Haenchen) perplexing.
Cf. E.P. Sanders's review of Hengel's book in JTS 37 (1986), pp. 169ff.
b. A look at the other end of the alleged source quickly confirms that
it never existed. For it is clear that Luke lacks precisely that which he
should have obtained from an Antiochene source, had there been one,
namely an account of the foundation of the congregation in Antioch.
There are no names and no concrete scenes. Luke's story moves
instead on the most general level. The suggestion that the 'Cyprian and
Cyrenaean' origin of the anonymous founders (11.20) is a Lukan
inference from the traditional list in 13.1 seems plausible.1 The state-
ment that these men belonged to those who were 'dispersed' because
of the persecution following Stephen's death (v. 19) is an editorial link
which ties in with the equally editorial 8.4.2
Thus Luke clearly had no written source to draw on at this point.
Nevertheless, he may have based his account on received information.
The statement that the 'disciples' came to be called 'Christians' for the
first time just in Antioch is certainly not his own invention (v. 26),
although he may be guilty of an anachronism in making the comment
this early.3 Likewise, the statement that the founders of the congrega-
tion were people who had fled from Jerusalem because of the Stephen
affair has the ring of authenticity to it. To be sure, it is Luke's
'tendency to emphasize the centrality of Jerusalem at every point' of
his story.4 But then it would have been both easier and more effective
for him to let the Jerusalemite Barnabas (who features at the top of
the Antiochene name list in 13.1) found the congregation right away,
instead of having him sent from Jerusalem in the very next verse.5
Obviously, the anonymous refugees had too fixed a place in what Luke
had heard about Antiochene origins to be removed from the story.
Moreover, Luke is at pains to postpone these events after the
programmatic Cornelius story—another indication that he did not
invent them freely.
1. Haenchen, Apostelgeschichte, pp. 356ff.; W. Schmithals, Paulus und

Jakobus (FRLANT, 85; 1963), p. 23; W. Schneemelcher, Das Urchristentum
(1981), p. 127.
2. M. Dibelius, Aufsdtze zur Apostelgeschichte (FRLANT, 42; 1951), pp. 16-
17; Haenchen, Apostelgeschichte, pp. 355-56; Schmithals, Paulus, p. 23.
3. Thus H. Koster, Einfuhrung in das Neue Testament (1980), p. 525.
4. Watson, Paul, p. 26.
5. This tells against the assumption that Barnabas was in reality the founder of
the Antiochene congregation; thus Schneemelcher, Urchristentum, p. 128; cf. also
Haenchen, Apostelgeschichte, p. 357.
General considerations confirm Luke's picture. Whoever founded

the congregation in Antioch must have come from somewhere. Even
quite abstractly considered, Jerusalem is as likely a place as any
(Galilee might also come into question). All evidence at hand confirms
that the congregation in Antioch had a quite distinctive stamp, rather
different from the congregation in Jerusalem. Whoever gave it that
stamp must have represented a spirituality distinct from that of a Peter
or a James. Unless we assume that the people in question came from
the group around Stephen, we have to duplicate the Hellenist group
and postulate like-minded people independent of them. In the end, this
would not make much difference to the topic of this essay; the term
* Hellenist' just would have to be taken in a somewhat broader sense
than the 'group around Stephen'.1
But the more plausible solution is to avoid duplication. Moreover,
not only must the men of Acts 11.19-20 have come from somewhere;
the 'Hellenists' of Jerusalem, too, must have gone somewhere after the
death of Stephen. Even if Luke may be inaccurate about the persecu-
tion (see below), Jerusalem could not be a safe or pleasant place for
them to stay; consequently, we do not hear afterwards of any
'Hellenist' presence in that city, where the more conservative wing
under James gets the upper hand. Is it not natural to connect these
ends, the Hellenists leaving Jerusalem with the founders of the
Antiochene community, although the Seven themselves land else-
where? Even if Luke did nothing more than speculate in some such
way, the odds are that he guessed right.
c. What is more difficult is the matter of the persecution after

Stephen's death. The question is of some importance since it affects
the way Paul fits into the picture. It is rather generally held, with
1. W. Schmithals, ('Zur Herkunft der gnostischen Elemente in der Sprache des

Paulus', in Gnosis [Festschrift H. Jonas; 1978], pp. 385-414 [pp. 400ff.]) makes a
distinction between the Stephen group and the Antiochenes. The former found its
way to Damascus, not to Antioch. Paul was converted to a 'law-free, universalistic
Christianity' with an antinomian and gnosticizing character (pp. 400, 408ff.). But it
is too sweeping to assert that Paul gave up his obedience to the law in his conver-
sion, or that 'die von ihm bekampfte christliche Gesetzesfreiheit war also grund-
sdtzlicher Art*. If that was the case, the perseverance of law-affirming elements in
Paul's thought (see H. Raisanen, Paul and the Law [WUNT, 29; 1983], pp. 255-
56) becomes a problem.
good reason, that the mentions of Saul in 7.58b, 8.1a, 3 stem from
Luke rather than from his tradition.1 Galatians 1, too, combines more
easily with the assumption that Paul's persecuting activities took place
in Syria than with the assumption that he was active in Jerusalem.
Even more important than the disputed v. 22 (which might perhaps be
harmonized with a persecution of the Hellenists in Jerusalem which
did not touch the Hebrews2) is Paul's statement that he did not go up
to Jerusalem but went to Arabia and then returned to Damascus
(Gal. 1.17). This would seem to imply that Damascus was his place of
residence at the time of the persecution.
If this is so (and the other alternative can hardly be totally
excluded) the whole idea of a persecution in Jerusalem becomes dubi-
ous. Luke's picture of it is schematic and unrealistic anyway.3 The
persecution is inseparably connected with the person of Saul; indeed
he is in v. 3 the persecution personified.4 Remove Saul from the pic-
ture and nothing is left. Moreover, if the mention of Stephen's burial
in v. 2 is part of a traditional account, as many believe,5 this infor-
mation fits badly with the idea of a persecution. Great lamentation and
great persecution can hardly take place simultaneously,6 whether the
'pious men' taking care of the burial are to be seen as non-Christian
Jews or as Christians.7 On the other hand, if v. 2 is Lukan, it
1. E.g. Dibelius, Aufsdtze, p. 16; Haenchen, Apostelgeschichte, pp. 94-95,

287; W. Wiater, Komposition als Mittel der Interpretation im Lukanischen
Doppelwerk (1972), p. 212; Weiser, Apostelgeschichte, pp. 191-92.
2. Thus Hengel, Between, p. 154 n. 145; Weiser, Apostelgeschichte, p. 192;
Dietzfelbinger, Berufung, p. 21.
3. Apart from the notorious difficulty that the leaders of the persecuted group are
able to stay whereas all rank-and-file members have to flee, cf. the observation of
Schille, Apostelgeschichte, p. 197:
Im ubrigen nimmt Lukas das Wort 'alle' so wenig ernst, daB er bereits zwei Verse
spacer (sc. 8.3) (erst recht in den folgenden Abschnitten) geniigend Gemeindeglieder in
Jerusalem belSBt, um Saulus Stoff fur VerfolgungsmaBnahmen zu hinterlassen!
4. Haenchen, Apostelgeschichte, p. 289; Schneider, Apostelgeschichte, p. 480.

5. E.g. Haenchen, Apostelgeschichte, p. 285; cf. Schneider, Apostel-
geschichte, p. 479; Weiser, Apostelgeschichte, pp. 190-91.
6. Schille, Apostelgeschichte, pp. 198-99.
7. Jews: Schille, Apostelgeschichte, pp. 198-99. Christians: Haenchen,
Apostelgeschichte, p. 285 n. 1; Schneider, Apostelgeschichte, p. 479. Yet (dvfip)
taP; is a good Lukan expression (Lk. 2.25; Acts 2.5; 22.12).
confirms that he had no realistic idea of the persecution at all.

These considerations leave open the possibility that no great perse-
cution—apart from killing Stephen—took place in Jerusalem, but that
the leading Hellenists left the city in time to avoid such a consequence
of their activities. Now the exact reason for the Hellenists' leaving the
holy city makes no difference as regards the origins of the congrega-
tion in Antioch. It does make some difference, however, regarding
Paul's background. If there was no great persecution in Jerusalem and
if Paul persecuted (whatever that meant) some Christians in the
Damascus area, are we still entitled to conclude that those persecuted
by him were Hellenist Christians who had left Jerusalem? What was
the connection between Damascus and Antioch? Had the congregation
in Damascus, of which we know next to nothing, necessarily anything
to do with the Hellenists? The leading Christian in Damascus, Ananias,
at least had a Hebrew name.
All told, some considerations still seem to point to the conclusion
that the Christians persecuted by Paul (supposing that these things did
not happen in Jerusalem) were Hellenists, or at least like-minded
people. First, Paul relatively soon found his way to Antioch where he
adopted the liberal life-style and, later on, went farther than the
Antiochenes themselves. Now it is not impossible that Paul was first
converted to a more conservative form of Christianity (in which case
he may originally have taken offence at the notion of a crucified
messiah, rather than at any attitude toward the law as such) and
only later adopted a liberal stance when in Antioch.1 This is not
1. Watson argues that 'Paul began his Christian career as a missionary to Jews
and not to Gentiles' (Paul, p. 28); only later, in response to the failure of the preach-
ing among Jews, did he, along with Barnabas, turn to Gentiles, whereby full sub-
mission to the law was not required from Gentile converts. The purpose of this was
to make conversion easier. Watson puts forward some intriguing arguments, e.g.:
Gal. 1.18-24 suggest that three years after his conversion there was no hint of any ten-
sion between Paul and the churches of Jerusalem and Judaea. Whatever Paul may have
discussed with Cephas and James, it cannot have been Gentile entry into the church
without submission to the law, for that did not become a problem until fourteen years
later (2.1-10); but it surely would have been a problem if Paul had already been permit-
ting it. (pp. 29-30)
On the other hand, it is difficult to construe the 'for Jews as a Jew'-statement (1 Cor.
9.20) as a reference to 'the earliest days of his Christian commitment' (p. 29).
Watson has to deny that Peter had really lived 'like a Gentile' in Antioch—Paul may
inconceivable. But in his (admittedly late)1 accounts of his call experi-

ence Paul not only describes the change in his life as a turn away from
the law (Phil. 3), but also suggests that the appearance of the risen
Christ immediately made it clear to him that he was called to work
among Gentiles (Gal. 1.16). This would suggest that the law and,
more precisely, the question of the position of Gentiles in the new
community was a central bone of contention between Paul and those
persecuted by him. If these were not Hellenists from the Stephen
group, they must have been people with a similar orientation.2 But
again it seems wiser to avoid unnecessary duplication. Since the
Christians in question came to be persecuted, they must have aroused
the attention of a Saul within the context of the synagogue; otherwise
their activity would not have touched the Jewish religion at all.3
People so active about the inclusion of Gentiles are best associated
with the Stephen group. Quite possibly Hellenists coming from
Jerusalem had found refuge in Damascus.4
In summary, it seems to me that the standard reconstruction can be
upheld after all. Still, it has to be admitted that it is based on thinner
evidence than is always realized. We will do well to keep in mind,
when contemplating further reconstructions, that even the foundations
of the building can be questioned at several points. Caution is called
for at every step.
have 'exaggerated the extent of Peter's departure from the law' (p. 33). In general,
Watson's late dating of the origin of the Gentile mission hardly accounts for its
spreading in the early decades.
1. Watson, Paul, p. 30 emphasizes that Gal. 1.16 'cannot be safely used as
evidence for Paul's self-understanding at the time of his conversion'. 'All we know
of Paul's conversion is how he chose to understand it in polemical contexts many
years later.' Nevertheless, it is a little hard to believe that Paul would have resorted to
such a reinterpretation of his original commission in the polemical context of the
Galatian conflict, where his testimony, had it not been correct, 'would have received
an easy repudiation from his opponents' (S. Kim, The Origin of Paul's Gospel
[WUNT, 2.4; 2nd edn, 1984], p. 59).
2. It is conceivable that the group of 'Hellenists' could have been formed out-
side of Jerusalem and that only part of the group moved into the city.
3. Observed by G. Sellin, 'Erganzende Antwort auf H. Raisanen, "The
'Hellenists'—a Bridge between Jesus and Paul?'" (Paper presented to the 'Jesus and
Paul' seminar group, SNTS meeting, August, 1985), pp. 7-8.
4. Cf. Haenchen, Apostelgeschichte, p. 312 (on 9.13).
2. On Methodology: The Importance of Chronology

Having reaffirmed the likelihood of the existence of the Hellenists we
can now turn to the problem of their views. Not content to scrutinize
the relevant passages in Acts, scholars have been keen on finding
traces of the teachings of the Hellenists in every corner of the NT
literature from Matthew to Revelation, and beyond.1 While some of
these suggestions seem odd,2 there may be a good deal of truth in
most. It is not impossible that the traditions about the connection of
the Nicolaitans with Nicolaus of Antioch (Acts 6.5) have a historical
kernel so that the sect can be traced back to 'Hellenist' origins.3 It is
possible that the Hellenists are attacked in pre-Matthaean traditions
(Mt. 5.19; 10.5).4 One can quite plausibly detect 'Hellenist' influence
in the Fourth Gospel and try to reconstruct different phases of that
influence on the Johannine community.5 One may indeed ask, whether
there were any missionaries of the law-free gospel to Gentiles in the
early decades6 other than people who had either belonged to the
1. For the association of Stephen with parts of Matthew, Markan traditions, Q,

John, Hebrews, Paul's opponents in 2 Corinthians as well as with Samaritans and
the Pseudo-Clementines, see the references in G. Stanton, 'Stephen in Lucan
Perspective', in Stadia Biblica 1978 (1980), III, pp. 345-60 (p. 358, nn. 2-12).
2. T. Boman (Die Jesusiiberlieferung im Lichte der neueren Volkskunde [ 1967],
pp. 112ff.) connects Stephen with Q; E.P. Blair (Jesus in the Gospel of Matthew
[1960], pp. 142ff.) with the Gospel of Matthew. Both scholars build rather fanciful
constructions.
3. See H.-W. Neudorfer, Der Stephanuskreis in der Forschungsgeschichte seit
F.C. Baur (1983), pp. 132-44. E.g. G. Kretschmar, RGG, IV, p. 1486 regards a
connection as possible. See now my forthcoming article 'The Nicolaitans', in
ANRW II.26.2.
4. R. Scroggs, 'The Earliest Hellenistic Christianity', in Religions in Antiquity
(SHR, 14; 1968), pp. 176-206.
5. Cf. J. Painter, 'Christology and the History of the Johannine Community in
the Prologue of the Fourth Gospel', NTS 30 (1984), pp. 460-74.
6. Qualifications are necessary here. There was mission work not free from the
law (the 'Teachers' opposed by Paul in Galatians; cf. J.L. Martyn, 'A Law-
Observant Mission to Gentiles: The Background of Galatians', Methodist Quarterly
Review 22 [1983], pp. 221-36). A 'Hebrew' Jerusalemite like Peter was later also
engaged in work among Gentiles and was not scrupulous about the law then.
Moreover, there seem to be traces of Gentile mission in the later layers of Q; if Lk.
10.8 belongs here, it indicates that observance of the law was relaxed.
Stephen group or had been won by the group (or by its converts). All
early law-free mission to Gentiles, and thus early Gentile Christianity
as a whole, may have its origins in the 'Hellenist' group. Of course
there were soon ramifications; both Paul and some of his opponents
can be seen as descendants of the Hellenists engaged in a struggle
about the heritage of Stephen.1
As far as the 'bridge' issue is concerned, however, we have to pay
serious attention to chronology. Not everything that is, in some way
or other, indebted to the Hellenists can be connected with the early
phase of their history. Just as we cannot deduce Paul's theology from
Ephesians or the Pastorals, let alone from the writings of the Paulinist
Marcion, we cannot without further ado make inferences about
Stephen's and his companions' teaching from 'Deutero-Stephanic' bits
of evidence. We must limit ourselves to items early enough to have
been able to influence Paul. In this regard it is not necessary to pene-
trate as far back as the historical Stephen. It is enough if we can catch
glimpses of the thoughts of those who brought the message to Antioch
and worked there in the early years when Paul was one of the
Antiochene missionaries among many. Such considerations rule out
most of the alleged 'Hellenist' material as secondary to our purposes.
It follows that Paul's letters take on a special importance also in this
matter. It is here alone—supposing that we can sort out traditional
materials and distinctively Pauline ideas—that we are on secure
ground chronologically. So we have to pay special attention both to
liturgical fragments (Rom. 3.24ff.) and to 'such propositions and
t e r m s . . . as Paul treats as self-evident—generally accepted—matters
which he does not introduce as new and neither proves nor defends'.2
Fragments in disagreement with Paul's 'normal' ideas are most
promising. It is of course perfectly possible that old material is
Whether all early law-free mission descends from the 'Hellenists' depends, of
course, on whether there were independent Galilaean missionaries to Gentiles. The
answer to this question, again, depends on how one determines the origin of Mark's
materials. For a tentative answer see below, pp. 163 and 199-200.
1. Cf. G. Friedrich, 'Die Gegner des Paulus im 2. Korintherbrief, in Abraham
unser Water (Festschrift O. Michel; 1963), pp. 181-215, on Paul's opponents in
2 Corinthians; also P. Jewett, Paul's Anthropological Terms (AGJU, 10; 1971),
pp. 31-32. Painter, Christology, p. 468 suggests that Hellenists are to be detected
behind the Wisdom tradition opposed by Paul in 1 Corinthians.
2. R. Bultmann, Theology of the New Testament (1951-55), p. 64.
preserved in much later sources; but only in Paul's writings can we

with any degree of certainty find traditions old enough to have
influenced Paul. The stay in Antioch must have left its imprints on a
man who for quite some time was one of the missionaries sent out by
the local congregation.
3. Paul and the Law-Critical Jesus Tradition

In his careful study of the Jesus tradition in Paul, N. Walter assumes
that Paul received some knowledge of law-critical sayings of Jesus
from the group of 'Hellenists' he had joined. This group too (he
presumes) had from the start had access to Jesus traditions (in a more
or less fixed form), but they cherished above all such sayings and
traditions as suggested implicit critique of law and temple on the
part of Jesus. This line of tradition might be the source of Paul's
summary of the law (Rom. 13.8-10) as well as of Rom. 14.14a,
behind which stands the tradition of Jesus' annulment of the idea of
impurity (Mk 7.15); also of the commandment regarding divorce
(1 Cor. 7.10-11).
Sayings of Jesus of such a kind, which questioned Jewish values either
wholesale or in detail, may well have been taken up with special interest
and transmitted in early Hellenistic Jewish Christianity.1
These three cases are not on the same level, however. The prohibi-
tion of divorce (the one saying which Paul explicitly traces back to the
Lord and which he presumably owes to the Hellenists2) goes beyond
the law but is not critical of it (having indeed its counterpart in
Qumran). Obviously 'greater stringency than the law requires is not
illegal'.3 This is a case quite different from Mk 7.15 which is a logion
proclaiming laxity rather than greater stringency.
Conversely, Paul does not refer to the Lord when summing up the
law in the commandment of neighbourly love (Gal. 5.14; Rom. 13.9).
Paul was not the first to summarize the contents of the law with the
aid of a general principle. In Galatians it comes as something of a
1. N.Walter, 'Paul', p. 75.

2. He could have learnt this commandment from Peter, too (cf. Gal. 1.18); yet
the Hellenized version (the commandment being addressed to women) points rather
to the Hellenists as mediators.
3. E.P. Sanders, Jesus and Judaism (1985), p. 256.
surprise that after the strong polemic against the law in 2.11-5.12
Paul immediately emphasizes the necessity of love by way of a refer-
ence to the very law he has been criticizing.1 Surely he is citing
tradition, and the question is merely from where he got it? Direct
appropriation of Hellenistic Jewish tradition is not impossible.2 But it
is far more likely that Paul received the summarizing principle from
the tradition of the Hellenists,3 as he probably received the paraenesis
set forth in Rom. 12.9ff. But the Hellenists may not have transmitted
the love command as a word of Jesus.4 C. Burchard has shown that the
dual commandment of love is probably the product of Hellenistic
Jewish Christians5 (at a stage too late to have influenced Paul). Quite
possibly even the single commandment of neighbourly love arose in
the same milieu (whereas Jesus had commanded his followers to love
their enemies)!' We may then have here an instance of 'Hellenist' influ-
ence on Paul. The Hellenists have, however, functioned as a 'bridge'
in a very limited sense; in widening, but also domesticating, a radical
command of Jesus to love one's enemies into a general principle of
philanthropy and transmitting this to Paul as the essence of the law.
But even with a more positive view on the authenticity of the love
command, its importance for the 'bridge' issue is limited. Even sup-
posing that in this case a piece of Jesus' teaching on the law did reach
Paul via the Hellenists, the real peculiarity of Paul's teaching would
remain unexplained. Even if authentic, the love command cannot be
regarded as being very characteristic of Jesus.7 Nor does it distinguish
1. Cf. Raisanen, Paul p. 63.

2. Cf. F. Mussner, Der Galaterbrief (HTKNT, 9; 1974), p. 372: whether Paul
knew the love command from Jewish orfromChristian tradition cannot be made out.
3. J. Becker, Das Evangelium des Johannes (OTK, 4.1; 1981), II, p. 453.
Walter, 'Paul', p. 57 stresses that the formulation in question represents for
Paul 'a thoroughly "Christian" insight which he would certainly not have formulated
thus in his pre-Christian days'.
4. Cf. Walter, 'Paul', pp. 57-58, 73.
5. C. Burchard, 'Das doppelte Liebesgebot in der friihen christlichen Uber-
lieferung', in Der RufJesu und die Antwort der Gemeinde (Festschrift J. Jeremias;
1970), pp. 39-62 (pp. 55ff.); also Becker, Johannes, p. 454.
6. Becker, Johannes, pp. 452-53. The single command reappears in James
(2.8), the Johannine tradition and the Gospel of Thomas (log. 25); cf. 1 Pet. 2.17;
4.8-9; Heb. 13.1.
7. Cf. U. Luz, 'Das Neue Testament', in R. Smend and U. Luz, Gesetz (1981),
p. 68.
Paul's teaching on the law. The emphasis on the love command unites
Paul with, say, Matthew. And yet Matthew and Paul are poles apart in
their assessment of the law. We have to look, then, in other directions.
As for Rom. 14.14a, we should not assume from the start that
Mk 7.15 stands in the background of that statement. On the contrary,
the relationship between the two statements should be re-examined.
This has been done elsewhere in this volume, the result being that Paul
is not dependent on a word of the Lord here.1
Starting from the Pauline evidence, U.B. Miiller has argued, con-
vincingly in my view, that the (early) Hellenists do not come into
question as the bearers of the law-critical Jesus tradition.2 Paul had
spent long years as a missionary of the Antiochene congregation,
founded by the Hellenists; there if anywhere the traditions allegedly
brought by the Hellenists from Jerusalem might have been expected to
flourish. Yet Paul never appeals to sayings of the Lord in the central
theological expositions of his gospel—not even in his account of the
conflict in Antioch (Gal. 2.1 Iff.).3 Miiller further argues that the law-
critical sayings and stories were preserved in Galilaean communities.4
In that case, however, one would expect to hear of conflicts between
Jerusalem and Galilee rather than between Jerusalem and the more
remote Antioch. Moreover, if a Galilaean law-free mission existed,
one would expect it to have reached Damascus, where Paul first was
introduced into a Christian community. Paul's sparse use of Jesus
traditions then becomes a problem for this hypothesis as well. But
we need not pursue this issue further here. The conclusion must suf-
fice that the Hellenists are unlikely candidates as transmitters of law-
critical Jesus tradition apart from the love command which, in itself,
need not imply any criticisms of the law at all.
Miiller thinks that although the Hellenists did not care about
precisely formulated sayings of Jesus, they did continue Jesus' law-
critical preaching. For them, the general impression of Jesus' free
preaching was decisive. They did not repeat Jesus' words, but they
1. See above Chapter 6.

2. U.B. Miiller, 'Zur Rezeption gesetzeskritischer Jesusiiberlieferung im friihen
Christentum', NTS 27 (1980-81), pp. 158-85 (pp. 159-60).
3. Muller takes Rom. 14.14 as an exception to the rule: 'Paulus selbst verrat nur
andeutungsweise eine Kenntnis solcher Worte' ('Rezeption', p. 159 n. 4 clarifies:
'Vgl. Rom 14.14,20 und Mk 7.15'). But the exception is unwarranted.
4. Muller, 'Rezeption', pp. 168ff.
enthusiastically spread the contents of his message. 1 Miiller shares the

standard view that Jesus was critical of the law. That, however, is
questionable.
4. Jesus and the Law

The material available is contradictory and open to different interpre-
tations. Thanks to E.P. Sanders's recent discussion of the problem I
can express myself very briefly. Sanders wisely emphasizes that the
evidence from early Christianity is essential. Any theory of explicit
opposition to the law on the part of Jesus 'makes the controversies in
the early church incomprehensible'. 2 It should be noted that Hengel's
view that Jesus was critical of the law requires him to deny the
'Hebrews' full loyalty to the law:
Of course (!) the earliest Aramaic-speaking community, following the
preaching of Jesus, still did not have that strict attitude to the law which at
a later stage. . . marked it out; however, if it was to survive in Judaea, it
was far less able to escape the pressure of popular opinion than the
Jewish-Christian 'Hellenists'. .. 3
But is it likely that the disciples of Jesus, notwithstanding their expec-

tation of the imminent parousia, would have been that opportunisti-
cally concerned with the 'popular opinion' and their survival in
Judaea? They had, after all, gained unexpected courage and strength
through the Easter experience, so that they chose to speak publicly in
the name of their recently executed master. It is more natural to con-
clude that they had not gained from the preaching of Jesus the
impression that one should criticize the law.
On the other hand, the argument from the controversies in the early
church likewise applies to any theory that Jesus made explicit 'pro-law
statements'.4
Just how 'radical' Jesus was depends very much on how one inter-
prets Mk 7.15. I have argued elsewhere that, in view of its lack of
influence in early Christianity (no one seems to have used it during the
formative period, whereas its significance is crystal clear in Mark,
1. Miiller, 'Rezeption', p. 165.

2. Sanders, Jesus, p. 146.
3. Hengel, Between, p. 25.
when the battle for freedom has already been won on other grounds),
the saying may be best taken as /âuthentic; this, at least, is the solu-
tion that causes fewest difficulties.1 The outcome is much the same,
however, if one accepts the saying, but posits an original meaning less
radical than that suggested by the Markan context.
Sanders argues that the critical issue between Jesus and his oppo-
nents was the temple.2 Jesus expected a new temple to be erected by
God in place of the old one which would be destroyed. It seems likely
that it was Jesus' attitude to the temple, expressed not only in threaten-
ing words but also in a symbolic action against it, which eventually led
to his death,3 Jesus' attitude 'almost certainly sprang from his convic-
tion that the new age was at hand'.4 Jesus apparently did not think that
the law—of which the legislation concerning the temple was a part—
could be freely transgressed, but rather that it was not final and abso-
lute.5 Even the action against the temple probably did not mean 'that
Jesus objected to the sacrifices instituted by God'; Mt. 5.23-24 would
be inexplicable on such a view.6 Jesus, rather, 'looked to a new age,
and therefore he viewed the institutions of this age as not final and in
that sense not adequate'. This may be termed an implicitly critical
attitude, to be sure. Yet 'we find no criticism of the law which would
allow us to speak of his opposing or rejecting it'. 7 In our attempts to
define the stance of the Hellenists we should no longer start from the
assumption that Jesus' critical attitude to the law is an established fact.
1. See above, Chapter 6.

2. Sanders, Jesus, pp. 61ff. and passim. Cf. also Weiser, 'Gesetzes- und
Tempelkritik', pp. 159-61.
3. Sanders, Jesus, pp. 294ff.
6. Sanders, Jesus, p . 67. Sanders (p. 76) also refers to the 'acceptance of temple
worship by the early apostles' (Acts 2.46; 3.1; 21.26). But is worship by necessity
implied in these * temple' passages? Moreover, at least Acts 2.46 is Lukan redaction.
7. Sanders, Jesus, p. 269. Moreover, it is worth pondering that the most glar-
ing statement of all (in Sanders's estimation: Jesus, pp. 252ff., 267)—'let the dead
bury their dead'—was transmitted precisely in the Q tradition, not suspect of a critical
attitude to the law. So was the prohibition of divorce, sometimes adduced as evi-
dence of a critical attitude to the law on Jesus' part.
5. The Account of Stephen's Martyrdom

a. Law and Temple
Hengel, in his influential study of the Hellenists, thinks that Acts 6.14
shows how Stephen based his proclamation on the preaching of the
historical Jesus.1 This preaching he takes to have been critical of the
law. Hengel's view presupposes that Luke had a reliable tradition at
his disposal when writing that verse. Hengel shares the assumption that
Luke used an Antiochene source.2
We have already seen that the hypothesis of an Antiochene source is
fragile at both ends. It remains to be seen whether a source is visible
behind the account of Stephen's martyrdom (Acts 6.8-7.1; 7.54-8.2).
Stephen's speech has to be dealt with separately in any case.
Luke must have had some traditional information at his disposal
when composing the account of Stephen's martyrdom. He could not
invent by himself the fact that Stephen was arrested and killed. There
was no need for him to mention Hellenistic Jews as the initiators of the
persecution, rather than the Sadduccees as in 4.1ff. and 5.17ff.3 But in
order to be able to tell his readers this much Luke would not have
needed a written source. The rest of the story is at least explicable with-
out assuming any other sources than the Gospels of Mark and Luke.4
Moreover, there are strikingly numerous linguistic parallels to Acts 4 -
5 in 6.8-15, not explicable on the hypothesis of an Antiochene source.5
If, however, Luke did have a traditional martyrdom story (probably
an oral one) at his disposal, this must have included the accusation and
1. Hengel, Between, pp.22, 151 n. 137. Similarly, Miiller, 'Rezeption',

p. 164 (despite his correct characterization of Acts 6.13-14, p. 163); Roloff,
Apostelgeschichte, p. 114.
3. Haenchen, Apostelgeschichte, p. 266; Hengel, Between, p. 19: '. . .in
contrast to Acts 4; 5, the people and the elders and the scribes. .. are stirred up'.
Nevertheless, one should compare Lk. 22.66: ownx^n TO jcpeop'oxepiov xox>
A,ao3, &pxi£p£i<; xe m i Ypa|iu.aTei<;. .. The list of opponents in v. 9 looks
traditional at first glance; cf. Hengel, Between, p. 4. But why should anyone have
cared to compose such a list? Acts 2.9-11 shows that Luke can freely include lists of
people in his stories.
4. See M. Sabbe, 'The Son of Man Saying in Acts 7.56', in Les Actes des
Apotres [BETL, 48; 1979), pp. 249ff.
5. Cf. below, pp. 167 nn. 1 and 2, 168 nn. 2 and 3.
the death at least, possibly also the vision of the martyr and the men-
tion of his burial. Of these, only the accusation is of major importance
to our problem; the vision, too, is of some interest. The following
brief analysis tries to point out that most of the story is easily explic-
able without resorting to the assumption of a source.
The rise of a conflict is described in abstract terms in a stereotyped
Lukan language. 'Many signs and wonders among the people' (v. 8) is
a Lukan phrase (see esp. Acts 5.12; cf. 4.30) and the working of such
signs is hardly something to arouse the anger of Hellenistic Jews.1
Verse 10 uses the language of Lk. 21.15.2
In the rest of ch. 6 we have an account of a trial before the
Sanhedrin. The parallels to the account of the trial of Jesus and the
fact that Luke has transposed here some of the material connected in
Mark with the trial of Jesus are well known.3 Even Hengel admits that
the Sanhedrin is introduced by Luke into the Stephen story.4
The accusation of blasphemy by some men5 is introduced in terms
reminiscent of Mk 14.57-58.6 The accusation itself, mentioning
7
may well go back to Mk 14.64
1. It is hardly convincing to trace the phrase 'full of grace and power' back to a
source either (thus Hengel, Between, p. 18). nXr\pr\<; with genitive occurs ten times
in Luke's writings (Lk. 4.1 and 5.12 diff. Mark); elsewhere in the NT only in
Jn 1.14. The verb ni[in\aoQca is used elsewhere only in Mt. 27.48 with genitive
(but there with a concrete object); in Luke this combination occurs often (note Acts
4.8, 31). For %dpi<; cf. Lk. 1.30, 2.40, 52 and in particular Acts 4.33 (coupled with
5i)va|xi^!). Weiser, Apostelgeschichte, p. 171 correctly regards v. 8 as editorial.
2. Cf. Acts 4.14; Lk. 20.26. Hengel, Between, pp. 18-19 attributes the men-
tion of oocpia to Luke's alleged source and to the Hellenists' understanding of them-
selves 'as the bearers of special "wisdom", through the eschatological inspiration of
the Spirit'. But there is no need to go beyond Lk. 21.15. Cf. Weiser,
Apostelgeschichte, p. 171.
3. For a detailed list of the correspondences see Schneider, Apostelgeschichte,
p. 433 n. 6; cf. Sabbe, 'Son of Man', pp. 252-53.
4. Hengel, Between, p. 20; likewise, Roloff, Apostelgeschichte, p. 111.
5. \)rcep(xA.ov in v. 11 is a hapax legomenon; Richard (Acts 6:1-8:4, pp. 288-
89) sees here a trace of a tradition.
6. Acts 6.11: XeyovtOK; o n aKr\\c6a\i£v OUTOU XaXoi)VTO<;. . . Mk 14.57-
58: Xeyovxeq oxi Tijxei^ riKcuaaixev cruxou Xeyovzoq. . .
7. Cf. Wiater, Komposition, p. 215. (Luke leaves out Mark's pXaocpriuia
in the Gospel.) The combination 'against Moses and God' is unique, but the
mention of Moses reminds one of the accusation against Paul in Acts 21.21:
The false witnesses of v. 13 have their counterpart in Mk

Their first testimony is paralleled by the accusation against Paul in
Acts 21.28:
6.13 21.28
6 avGpcoTicx; ofrcot ohx6$ koxxv 6 av9pcorco<;
ox> navzxca XaX&v pruxaxa
xax& TO$ x6nov %ox> ayio'o 6 KGCT& xox> Xao\) Kai t o $
[tomou] VOM-CO
Ka( xox> v6u.oa) Kal toft T6ICO\> TOVTOD
. . . 8i8doK(Dv. . . Kai
KeicoivGOKev x6v ayiov
TOVTOV
In addition, naitcQax and pfniaxa are good Lukan words.2 Once

more there is a parallel in the earlier part of Acts: O\>K inavovxo
8i8daKovxeq Acts 5.42. There is no need to postulate a Stephen
source behind 6.13.
In v. 14 Luke brings the accusation against Jesus he had omitted
when retelling the Markan trial account: o n Tnaouq 6 Na^copaioq3
oiiioq KaxaA/oaei xov XOTCOV XOSXOV . . . cf. Mk 14.58: eyco
KaxaMaco xov vaov xo^xov xov xeiporcovnxov. . .
The difference between Mark and Acts is that Luke has replaced the
second half of Mark's temple saying (the building of a new temple)
with the clause Kai ocMdêi xa e0r| a 7cape8coKev T||XIV Mcoi)af|q.
eOoc; is used by Luke alone among the NT writers and the Apostolic
Fathers as a designation of the law.4 Paul, too, is accused of doing
5i5daKeiq OCTCO Moyoaeax;. . .

1. Acts 6.13-14: (idpropa<; Ye<0Sei^ Xeyovxac,. . . dKT|K6ap.ev yap
XeyovToq o n . . .
Mk 14.57-58: eye'uSon.ap'ropo'uv. . . Xeyovxeq o n r\\i£i$ riKovoajiev
X&yovxoc, OTI. . .
Each time a statement on the destruction of the temple follows.
2. Hengel, Between, p. 22 reads out of priu.aTa (vv. 11, 13) that the accusa-
tion against Stephen is about 'individual, specific points of preaching', in contrast to
the 'comprehensive' accusation against Paul in 21.28; 24.5 (which, in Hengel's
view, indicates that Jesus was a new legislator to Stephen). This is over-subtle. In
Acts 5.20, 32 prjiMxxa refers to the Christian proclamation as a whole; cf. 13.42.
3. Cf. the use of Na^copaioq in 4.10.
4. S.G. Wilson, Luke and the Law (SNTSMS, 50; 1983), pp. 3ff. See esp.
Acts 15.1; 28.17. As for 7capa5i56vai cf. Acts 16.4 (the Apostolic Decree).
away with (circumcision and) the 'customs' in Acts 21.21 (ur|Se toig
eOeaiv rcepucarav).
The only feature that could suggest a special Stephen source behind
6.14 is the verb aXkaJ^tx. The verb is a hapax in Luke, and the idea
of a future change of the law(s) does not appear elsewhere in his
work. Hengel, along with others, finds here one of the differences
between the passion narrative, the accusation against Stephen and
Paul's persecution, and accepts v. 14b as a reliable tradition.1 He
infers that Stephen regarded Jesus as a new legislator.2 In his wake,
the Hellenists * developed further the eschatologically motivated trend
of the message of Jesus, which was critical of the Torah'.3
But this link between Stephen and the historical Jesus will not hold.
Hengel does not, in his actual exegesis, take the future reference of
oXKa^tx seriously (although he uses precisely that as a crucial indica-
tion of the traditional character of the accusation). The accusation
runs that Jesus will destroy the temple and will change (not 'has
changed') the 'customs'. Acts 6.14 is an 'apocalyptic prophecy'4 rather
than a continuation of Jesus' preaching.5
If, however, the statement is taken as Lukan, another perspective is
opened up. Then the future form of aXXaJ^tx may have a simple
explanation: it is due to an assimilation to the other future form,
KOtTOcA/uaei.6 In exegeting the verse, we then have to pay attention to
Luke's post-70 perspective. He knows, as do his readers, that the
temple has been destroyed, but not because of an act of Jesus. The
1. Hengel, Between, pp. 21-22; likewise Richard, Acts 6:1-8:4, pp. 291-92.
2. Hengel, Between, p. 22. He adds: 'rather than "the end of the law"
(Rom. 10.4)'; this latter part of the statement is surely correct.
Perhaps it is worth noting that the notion of Jesus as a 'new legislator' is found in
precisely such parts of the NT as are not the most likely candidates for having
preserved 'Hellenist' traditions: Q and Matthew in particular.
3. Hengel, Between, p. 25; likewise Kim, Origin, pp. 45-46.
4. S.G. Wilson, The Gentiles and the Gentile Mission in Luke-Acts (SNTSMS,
23; 1973), p. 246; cf. also Watson, Paul, p. 26.
5. L. Goppelt, Theology of the New Testament (1982), II, p. 14 accepts Acts
6.14 as genuine but thinks that, apart from the word about the temple, 'Stephen did
not. .. appropriate the statements of Jesus that were critical of the law. .. as far as
we can tell from the limited traditions' (my italics). Weiser, 'Gesetzes- und
Tempelkritik', pp. 151-52 finds the notion of Jesus as a new legislator unlikely
because of the similar accusations against Paul in 21.21.
6. Cf G. Scroggs, 'Christianity', p. 182 n .1.
accusation thus is a false one.1 The reader of Luke's Gospel will also
know that Jesus, according to the book, never said that he will destroy
the temple, but only that it will be destroyed. In that perspective
oc^taxêi should perhaps be given the meaning 'causes to be changed'.
Is the choice of the hapax verb dM&aacG perhaps a reflection of the
word aKXov which Luke read in Mk 14.58? In any case, from Luke's
perspective the accusation is just as false as are the accusations raised
against Paul: Paul did not urge Jewish parents to leave their children
uncircumcised (21.21); he had not brought Greeks into the temple
(21.28) nor had he taught in the way described in v. 28.2
Now one could surmise that although Luke considered the accusa-
tion to be false, he may have heard rumours that the law was at stake
when Stephen was stoned. After all, the historical Paul was not so
innocent as Luke portrays him, and Jesus did say something about
himself in connection with the fate of the temple. Luke is at pains to
whitewash Paul and he may have his reasons in portraying Stephen in
an analogous way as a pious Jew falsely accused of doing away with
the law. But in the case of Paul the accusations in Acts 21 are clearly
exaggerated even if compared to the teaching of the historical Paul. So
even if there is some historical truth behind Acts 6.14, it is
very difficult to tell how accurate the accusation is. Above all, it is
doubtful whether the occurrence of oXkat^x is enough to warrant the
assumption of a source.
If one nevertheless supposes that Luke did use a source, there is,
paradoxically, even less to go on: an allegedly false accusation to the
effect that Stephen attributed to Jesus a destructive role in the
parousia.3 As for the 'bridge' hypothesis, we could at most consider
the possibility that Stephen expected Jesus to change the law in the
eschatological fulfilment, and Paul turned this into realized eschatol-
ogy. Even this would not make much of a bridge, for we have no
1. This is rightly emphasized by Stanton, 'Stephen', pp. 347ff.; cf. Watson,

Paul, p. 26. Stephen's Jesus is portrayed by his opponents in a way that draws up a
parallelism between him and the archenemy Antiochus Epiphanes, cf. 1 Mace. 1.49:
©axe £7utax9ea9ai xox> voixco KOCI dXXdâi rcavxa xa 5iK<xia>u.axa;
Dan. 7.25: rcpoaSeêxai aXXouoaai Kaipcnx; Kal v6|xov.
2. Cf. Paul's self-defence in 25.8. The different accusation brought forward in
16.20-21 is also patently false.
3. Watson, Paul, p. 26: 'Thus the main evidence for the hypothesis of the
Hellenists' radical view of the law seems extremely precarious.'
7. The 'Hellenists': A Bridge between Jesus and Paul? Ill
sayings of Jesus pointing to an eschatological abolition of the law in

the future. Nor are Paul's criticisms of the law connected with the
parousia or with the temple in any obvious way. Actually, the closest
parallels to Acts 6.14, if read in this way, are the scattered rabbinic
references to the new law of the messiah.1 This, however, amounts to
a reinterpretation of the Torah rather than to an annulment of parts of
it; the latter only appears in late texts.2
But if Stephen taught that the messiah would give a new interpreta-
tion of the law or even make changes in it in the future, such a pre-
diction would hardly have been a sufficient reason for killing him. It
might have been different with the temple. If Stephen said something
that could be construed as a threat to the temple, that might have
caused his elimination, the more so if prediction and action against the
temple had actually been the reason for having Jesus killed.
But is Luke reliable when he mentions the temple in connection
with the murder of Stephen? Why did he omit the temple saying (Mk
14.58) in the passion of Jesus, presenting it instead in the story of
Stephen? Was it because he knew that this is where the accusation
properly belongs?3 Did he recognize Mk 14.57-59 for what it is: an
intrusive insertion into the trial narrative,4 probably made by some
(later) 'Hellenists'? This possibility is not to be rejected out of hand.
Luke seems to have proceeded self-consciously, reserving the temple
motif for its proper use; for not only has he deleted Mk 15.29 as well
when rewriting Jesus' passion story, but the typically Hellenistic
adjective a%z\pono\T[%Qq from Mk 14.58 seems to have influenced
Acts 7.48: the Most High does not dwell in temples made with hands.5
1. See the literature referred to in Raisanen, Paul, pp. 236ff.

2. Lev. R. 13.3; Midr. Ps. 146.4; cf. Raisanen, Paul, pp. 235-36.
3. Weiser, 'Gesetzes- und Tempelkritik', p. 162:
Es erscheint mir unwahrscheinlich, daB Lukas das in der Passionsdarstellung
redaktionell gemiedene Wort Jesu ohne einen vorgegebenen Anhalt im Traditionsgut
uber die 'Hellenisten'/ra auf Stephanus ubertragen hatte. Denn: Hat er es dort schon
gemieden, dann hatte er es hier urn so weniger zu erwahnen brauchen. DaB er es aber
dennoch tut, ist ein Hinweis darauf, daB ihm uber Stephanus etwas derartiges berichtet
worden war.
A similar point is made by Sellin, 'Antwort', p. 4.

4. J. Gnilka, Das Evangelium nach Markus (EKKNT, 2.2; 1979), II, p. 276.
5. Weiser, Apostelgeschichte, p. 173.
Luke seems to have thought that this sort of language was more
fittingly used by Stephen than by Jesus.
In addition to Luke's taking up the temple theme in the speech
attributed to Stephen (Acts 7.44-50), the wide distribution of this
theme in writings which may well belong to the Hellenist trajectory1
may serve as a secondary indication that a memory was preserved that
Stephen's death had to do with the temple. In any case there must have
been a reason for his death concrete enough to cause harm to the
Hellenists but not to the Hebrews.
b. Spirit and Enthusiasm

Hengel establishes a connection between Stephen's criticism of law and
temple and 'the eschatological "enthusiasm" of the Hellenists, inspired
by the Spirit'. He refers to Stephen's miracles (6.8) and spirit-inspired
wisdom (6.10), to his inspired speech (which, however, is inserted by
Luke: 7.2-53) and his heavenly vision (6.15; 7.55-56). This version
'provokes the satanic hate which results in his murder'. In Hengel's
view,
Luke must already have found this theme of the intensifying contrast of
the spirit of God manifest in Stephen and the satanic hostility of his adver-
saries in his source; Stephen the martyr presumably appeared in it as a
paradigm of the earliest Christian spirit-inspired enthusiasm.2
It is a little hazardous* however, to base a historical reconstruction

on these features of the Lukan story. The picture of Stephen as a
bearer of the Spirit is thoroughly Lukan.3 The same is true of the
1. Hebrews; Mk 11; 15.38; Jn 4.20ff; Barnabas.

2. Hengel, Between, pp. 22-23. Roloff, Apostelgeschichte, p. 112 likewise
concludes that
einelegendarische Tradition aus den Kreisen des friihen hellenistischen Judenchristentums
zugrundeliegt, die Stephanus als Vorbild des christlichen Pneumatikertums darstellte
und sein Martyrium als Folge seines Enthusiasmus deutete.
Also Schneider, Apostelgeschichte, p. 409:

Somit wird dem Leser nahegelegt, die Kritik des MSrtyrers an Gesetz und Tempel mit
seinem geistgewirkten eschatologischen 'Enthusiasmus' in Zusammenhang zu bringen.
W. Manson, The Epistle to the Hebrews (1951), pp. 30ff. tried to reconstruct 'the
eschatology of Stephen* with Acts 7.56 as a starting-point.
3. Cf. above, p. 167 and nn. 1-2.
'intensifying contrast' in 7.51ff.J And even in the case of Stephen's

vision, a purely editorial origin of this trait is at least plausible.2
Nothing in Acts 7.56 requires one to go beyond Lk. 22.69 when
asking where Luke got the contents of the vision.3 On the other hand,
even if Luke drew on a traditional martyrdom account at this point,
this would not guarantee the historicity of the vision.4
It is true that Luke portrays not only Stephen but also Philip, the
other outstanding figure among the Seven, as thoroughgoing pneumat-
ics. But possession of the Spirit and charismatic experiences are no
specialty of the Hellenists alone—least of all in the Lukan story, where
the pious community in Jerusalem is no less spirit-filled and Peter,
1. The conclusion of Stephen's speech in Acts 7.51-53 is probably Lukan (see

below, p. 177 n. 2); the description of the reaction of the adversaries is certainly so
(v. 54; cf. Acts 5.33).
2. Thus Weiser, Apostelgeschichte, pp. 172, 190; Sabbe, 'Son of Man'.
Schneider oscillates: cf. Apostelgeschichte, pp. 471, 475 n. 34 (redaction) with
p. 434 n. 8 (tradition). The similarities to Luke's version of the transfiguration peri-
cope (Lk. 9.28ff.) are noteworthy. Cf. TO 7cp6cco7cov cruxou Acts 6.15 and
Lk. 9.29 (diff. Mk); 56£cc GeoO Acts 7.55 and fi 86£a awoS Lk. 9.32 diff. Mk
(cf. ev 56£fl Lk. 9.31); note also the close connection between Jesus' glory and his
imminent passion in Lk. 9.32 diff. Mk (cf. Weiser, Apostelgeschichte, p. 174).
Could it be that even the puzzling eaxwxa in Acts 7.55-56 is a reflection of Lk. 9.32:
ei8ov rnv 56£ocv autoO K<X! TOOX; bvo av8pa<; TO\X; cx>veax&xaq cruxcD?
Moreover axevicavxeq in Acts 6.15 (cf. axevioaq 7.55) recalls Lk. 4.20.
Lk. 4.16ff is a passage which contains many similarities to the martyrdom of
Stephen; see Sabbe, 'Son of Man', p. 254. See especially Lk. 4.29 (cf. Acts 7.58).
3. Sabbe, 'Son of Man', pp. 256ff., and Schneider, Apostelgeschichte, p. 473
(with n. 13), argue that Luke formed Acts 7.56 on the basis of Lk. 22.69. It should
be noted that in Lk. 22.69 Luke omitted oyeoQe, which could properly only be
applied to Jesus' faithful witness but not to the Sanhedrin (Sabbe, 'Son of Man',
pp. 264-65; Weiser, Apostelgeschichte, p. 190). Wiater, Komposition, p. 214
points out that the function of Acts 7.56 in its context corresponds to that of
Lk. 22.69 in its context.
4. This point would be corroborated, if the vision motif were an original part of
the Jewish Martyrdom of Isaiah (Asc. ha. 5.7). Yet A. Caquot, 'Bref commentaire
du "Martyre d'lsaie'", Sem 23 (1973), pp. 65-93 (p. 90), has shown on literary-
critical grounds that the verse is probably a Christian addition. The same conclusion
was adumbrated on tradition-historical grounds (the motif is lacking in other Jewish
stories about the martyrdom of Isaiah) by H.-W. Surkau, Martyrien injiidischer und
fruhchristlicherZeit (FRLANT, 36; 1938), p. 33.
too, is portrayed as receiving visions and encountering angels. 1

Historically, there may have been a difference. But the Pentecost story
is scarcely spun out of thin air. There were prophets like Agabus
(Acts 11.28; 21.10) in Jerusalem, and we should keep the healing
activity of Jesus and the 'wandering charismatics' around him in mind
as well. Even if there is a difference between healing, prophecy and
glossolalia, pneumatic experiences were probably something which
united 'Hebrews' and 'Hellenists'. 2 Thus they can, in themselves,
hardly explain a distinctive attitude to the law and temple on the part
of one group but not the other. On the other hand, even if the experi-
ences were common, they may have produced in the case of some of
the Hellenists effects different from those they produced with the
Hebrews. The Hellenists, or some of them, may have been prone to
giving the pneumatic experiences a different significance than did the
Hebrews. 3
And yet Luke does not indicate that Philip, the most outstanding
pneumatic of all, was critical of the law. His turning to the Samaritans
testifies to open-mindedness, to be sure, as does his settling down on
1. The only unparalleled feature is that Philip is carried away by the spirit in
Acts 8.39. Schmithals, 'Herkunft', p. 412 finds in Acts 2 and 10-11, that is in
stories about the 'Hebrew' community and Peter, * traces of gnosticizing
enthusiasm*. He thinks that these bits of traditions were transferred and thus
'domesticated' by Luke. Originally they spoke of the Stephen group!
2. Cf. E. Kasemann, New Testament Questions of Today (1969), pp. 88-89;
H. Conzelmann, Geschichte des Urchristentums (2nd edn, 1972), p. 36; Larsson,
'Hellenisten', pp. 221-22. Interestingly enough, Boman, Jesusuberlieferung,
p. 123, could argue that it was the religion of the Hebrews that was—as opposed to
that of the Hellenists—'augenscheinlich etwas enthusiastisch'! The Hebrews
regarded glossolalia as a sign of the bestowal of the spirit.
Die hellenistischen Christen waren offenbar nuchterner und vor allem ethisch aus-
gerichtet: so genQgte es dem Philippus, um den Hofmann zu taufen, daB er an das
Evangelium von Jesus glaubte (8.35-36). Diejenigen, die in Samarien durch Philippus
zum Glauben kamen, redeten nicht in Zungen. . .
Indeed, the emissaries of the Hebrews had to remove this shortcoming!

3. More specifically, the two groups may have drawn 'different conclusions
from observing similar experiences in the lives of non-Jews (and because of their
contacts the Hellenists would be in a far better position to observe these experiences
in the first place)'; thus Wedderburn, 'Paul and Jesus', p. 182 n. 44.1 will discuss
the possibility that the Hellenists admitted Gentiles ir to the community in Jerusalem
below, pp. 186-88.
7. The 'Hellenists*: A Bridge between Jesus and Paul? 175
Caesarea. Later stages in what might be the Hellenist trajectory hardly

suggest an intrinsic connection between enthusiasm and criticism of
the law. Paul's opponents in 2 Corinthians may well have Hellenist
roots,1 but their enthusiasm does not seem to be coupled to a criticism
of the law. If Acts 7.48 contains a criticism of the temple, that criticism
is rational rather than enthusiastic in character, and Mk 7.19 is even
rationalistic. Nor are the exegeses of Hebrews based on enthusiasm.
Trying to show that the criticism of law and temple was connected
with the eschatological enthusiasm of the Hellenists, Hengel states that
'the Spirit shaped the present as a unique time of revelation' (Acts
2.17).2 But Acts 2.17ff. does not intend to speak of new revelations in
the sense of doctrinal innovations. Actually, Hengel himself attaches
fundamentally less weight to the eschatological gift of the Spirit than
to the significance of the message of Jesus which the Hellenists took
up. He does speak of their 'spirit-inspired interpretation' of this mes-
sage 'in the new medium of the Greek language'3 but it is not clear in
what sense the Hellenists, in Hengel's view, went beyond Jesus.4 In the
last analysis, the message of Jesus seems to be the all-important factor.
Hengel's position hinges on two assumptions: (1) Stephen continued
the preaching of Jesus, and (2) Jesus was critical of the law. If my
argument is on the right track, both assumptions are doubtful.
1. Cf. Friedrich, 'Gegner' (with partly adventurous reconstructions); Jewett,

Terms, pp. 31-32; also Hengel, Between, p. 149 n. 125.
3. Hengel, Between, p. 24; the last-mentioned phrase is in italics. I fail to com-
prehend the profound significance attributed to the use of the Greek language by
Hengel in this connection. If Jesus was (in Hengel's view) able to set forth a mes-
sage critical of the law in Aramaic, it is hard to see why a translation of the message
into Greek would have been crucial regarding the question of the law. It is another
matter that the use of Greek was decisive as regards the spreading of the message.
Hengel {Between, p. 27) speculates that 'a basic part of the gospel tradition' must
have been translated in the Hellenist community in Jerusalem. But if the Hellenists
understood 'little or no Aramaic'—that was the reason for their separate existence as
a community—how could they take care of the translation (in, say, a year's time!)?
4. Hengel, Between, pp. 23-24, also refers to the idea that 'the temple has lost
its function as the place of expiation, for in the death of Jesus a truly valid sacrifice
has taken place once and for all' (cf. Mk 11.17). This is, in fact, a rival explanation
for the alleged criticism of law and temple, which is not connected in any obvious
way either with the 'Spirit' or with the 'words of Jesus' explanation. Hengel blends
all three together.
6. The Speech of Stephen

The speech of Stephen (Acts 7.2-53) is of less help to us than might be
imagined. To be sure, quite a few scholars do build on it to a great
extent when constructing their image of Stephen.1 Others, notably
Hengel, give it little weight.2 Indeed, the speech does not support
Hengel's thesis very well. There is very little of eschatological enthu-
siasm3 in this retrospective piece of rhetoric, and no interest at all in
the teaching of the historical Jesus (or his death, for that matter). Still
others attribute some layers in the speech to the Hellenists who were
its preservers and transmitters at some stage in their history.4
If the speech as a whole was composed by Luke,5 it cannot of course
1. M. Simon (St Stephen and the Hellenists in the Primitive Church [1958],
pp. 39ff.) and Manson {Hebrews, pp. 27ff.) are extremely trustful; cf. also
O. Cullmann, 'The Significance of the Qumran Texts for Research into the
Beginnings of Christianity', in K. Stendahl (ed.), The Scrolls and the New
Testament (1958), pp. 18-32 (p. 28); Larsson, 'Hellenisten', pp. 217ff.
Interestingly, Scroggs ('Christianity', p. 182), rejects Acts 6.13-14, since the
accusations are said to be false, and builds exclusively on the speech.
3. Cf. G. Klinzing, Die Umdeutung des Kultus in der Qwnrangemeinde und im
Neuen Testament (SUNT, 7; 1971), p. 223, emphasizing the difference from the
eschatologically based reinterpretation of the temple cult in Qumran (and therefore
rejecting Cullmann's view that Qumran prepared the way for the Stephen group). On
the eschatological motivation in Qumran see Klinzing, Umdeutung, pp. 147ff.
4. Thus O.H. Steck (Israel und das gewaltsame Geschick des Propheten
[WMANT, 23, 1967], pp. 265ff.) traces the oldest layer back to the Hellenists in
Jerusalem, for he finds in it the influence of the *deuteronomistic view of history',
taken over from 'Palestinian Jewish Christians' (p. 269; Q represents the same
view). In that case there ought to have been a very lively contact between 'Hebrews'
and 'Hellenists'. Steck's thesis hinges decisively on the assumption that w . 51-53
are pre-Lukan. That is unlikely, however; see below p. 177 n. 2. U. Wilckens (Die
Missionsreden der Apostelgeschichte: Form- und traditionsgeschichtliche
Untersuchungen [WMANT, 5; 3rd edn, 1974], pp. 298ff.) and Schneider
(Apostelgeschichte, pp. 447-48) follow Steck in thinking of the Hellenists as the
transmitters of the speech and finding the deuteronomistic view of history in it, but
both ascribe the statements critical of the temple to a later redactor (Wilckens: pre-
Lukan redaction; Schneider: Luke); on this analysis the speech is not of much help as
regards the early Hellenist attitude to law and temple.
5. So Richard (Acts 6:1-8:4) after a painstaking linguistic analysis; likewise
J. Kilgallen (The Stephen Speech [AnBib, 67; 1976]) and Sabbe ('Son of Man',
7. The 'Hellenists': A Bridge between Jesus and Paul? Ill
be used in the search for Stephen. The same is true, if at least those
parts are Lukan which seem to be critical of the temple. There is no
comprehensive criticism of the law in the speech.1 The law is valued
as 'living words' given to Moses (v. 38); in the—probably Lukan—
concluding verses (51-53) Stephen's adversaries are severely charged
for disobeying the law.2
'Your fathers' are criticized in vv. 39-43, often ascribed to Luke,3
but the sacrificial cult is not condemned.4 Rather, the fathers are
criticized for not bringing sacrifices to the Lord.5
Acts 7.44-50 differs markedly from the other temple section in the
speeches of Acts 17.22-31, in that Stephen's attitude toward the
temple of Jerusalem does not become clear. In vv. 44ff. the temple
made with hands is contrasted with the tent of witness (as if that had
not been made with hands, even if Moses had been shown the TOKO$,
v. 44). The tent is spoken of in positive terms. Does v. 47 condemn
Solomon's building a temple?6 In v. 46a David is spoken of in very
pp. 245ff.) Yet the creation of the whole would be a tremendous innovation on
Luke's part—for what purpose? Most of the speech bears no obvious relation to the
situation at hand.
1. E.g. Scroggs, 'Christianity', p. 186: 'The speech assumes throughout that
the law is valid'.
2. Verses 51-53 are attributed to Luke for example by Haenchen (Apostel-
geschichte, p. 280 [vv. 48-53]) and Scroggs ('Christianity', p. 183). Steck {Israel
p. 266), followed by Wilckens (Missionsreden, pp. 215-16) and Schneider,
('Stefanus, die Hellenisten und Samaria', in Les Actes des Apotres [BETL, 48;
1979], pp. 215-40 [p. 232]) assumes, however, that Luke got the verses from
tradition. But Luke was quite able to compose the statement about killing the
prophets by himself if he, besides being versed in the diction of the LXX, remem-
bered what he had read in Q and taken over into his Gospel (Lk. 11.47ff.). Luke
hints at a connection between this passage and the story of Stephen, for he uses both
in Lk. 11.48 (diff. Mt.) and in Acts 8.1 the verb Gt)vev5oKea) which only reappears
in Acts 22.20 where it refers back to 8.1. He uses, furthermore, in vv. 52-53
expressions from Acts 3.14 and motifs of the speech of Stephen (Acts 7.30, 38).
Only v. 51 is not quite so easy to account for in purely editorial terms, but Luke
would have got the main terms and motifs from the LXX. Weiser (Apostelgeschichte,
p. 182) attributes, with strong reasons, vv. 51-53 to Luke's redaction.
3. Cf. Haenchen, Apostelgeschichte, p. 280, with reference to the use of the LXX.
4. Against M. Simon, 'Saint Stephen and the Jerusalem Temple', JEH 2
(1951), pp. 127-42 (p. 134).
5. Correctly Stanton, 'Stephen', p. 352; cf. Scroggs, 'Christianity', p. 187.
6. Simon ('Temple', p. 127) speaks of Stephen's 'fierce hostility towards the
favourable terms; it is then not very reasonable to take v. 46b, which

is connected with a simple KOC! to what precedes, in a negative sense.1
David was willing, but not able, to build a aicf|vcon.a. Solomon, how-
ever, did build a 'house'. Should this be a critical comment on
Solomon's act, then the criticism is offered in a strikingly indirect
way. 2 The shift from aicf|vco|ia to OIKO^ looks significant, yet Luke
can hardly have thought that the GKTjvcoâ planned by David would
not have been 'made by hands'. If Solomon did what David, God's
favourite, could not yet do, this could not be a very bad thing; 8e can
scarcely denote an emphatic contrast.3
Only in vv. 48-50 does a palpably critical point of view enter the
picture. But even here the criticism remains vague. Verse 48 does not
condemn the temple made with hands. It only says that God does not
really dwell in it; but then Solomon himself says as much in the OT
(1 Kgs 8.27).4 The quotation in vv. 49-50 summarizes the points
made; it is not possible to build God a house ('what sort of house will
you build me?'), for he does not dwell in a temple ('or which place is
the place of my resting?');5 the mention of God's 'hand' in v. 50
temple'. R. Maddox (The Purpose of Luke-Acts [FRLANT, 126; 1982], p. 53)

states that building the temple was 'an act of rebellion'. Likewise O. Cullmann, 'Von
Jesus zum Stephanuskreis und zum Johannesevangelium', in Jesus und Paulus
(Festschrift W.G. Kummel; 1975), pp. 44-56 (p. 50); Kilgallen, Speech, p. 89.
1. Cf. P. Doble, 'The Son of Man Saying in Stephen's Witnessing: Acts 6.8-
8.2', NTS 31 (1985), pp. 68-84 (pp. 79-80).
2. Stanton, 'Stephen', p. 352: 'There is no implication that in building the
Temple Solomon was disobedient'. Cf. Hengel, Between, p. 22: 'a relatively mild
criticism'. Schneider, Apostelgeschichte, p. 467: 'Die einschrankende Aussage lehnt
den Tempel nicht ab'.
3. Contrast Simon, 'Temple', p. 128: 8e is 'very strong', denoting 'a radical
opposition'. Simon (p. 129) must indeed deny that David wished, according to
v. 46, to build a temple at all. OKr|vo)|ia denotes 'the spot where the ark rested,
under a tent, on the hill of Zion'. Stephen even 'ruled out from the Old Testament,
not only 2 Sam. vii.l3a, but also all those passages where the Temple and its
sacrifices are presented as agreeable in God's eyes and ordered or regulated by him'
(p. 139).
4. Cf. Schneider, Apostelgeschichte, p. 467; Doble, 'Son of Man', p. 80.
5. Scroggs ('Christianity', p. 188) thinks that the Jerusalem temple is rejected
in v. 49. He argues that the speech represents the stage of the Hellenists' mission to
the Samaritans; at this stage the Hellenists were already critical of the temple but not
yet of the law as a whole (p. 201). Yet the oft-noted 'Samaritan' features in the
7. The 'Hellenists*: A Bridge between Jesus and Paul? 179
places the products of human hands (v. 48, cf. also v. 41) in proper
perspective. In Athens Luke's Paul makes a very similar comment: 6
Oeog 6 rcovnaaq xov KOCFJIOV . . . O\>K ev xeipo7coiT|xoT<; vaoi^
KGCTOIKET (17.24). This makes it probable that vv. 48-50 represent
Luke's own point of view. If he did not freely compose the whole of
vv. 44-50 (or even vv. 39-50), he probably at least introduced
vv. 48-50. But what Stephen says about the temple in Jerusalem is
strikingly inconclusive as compared with Paul's sermon in Athens.
Paul does proceed to a critique of the sacrificial cult (17.25) and of
idols (17.29). Clearly the latter point was out of question in
Jerusalem; but if Luke wanted to convey the impression that Stephen
criticized the sacrifices conducted in Jerusalem, this would have been
the obvious place to do that. Luke missed his opportunity. Stephen's
speech does not contain the vehement criticism of the temple and its
sacrifices sometimes ascribed to it. Instead, Luke has collected here
raw materials for a critical evaluation of the temple, from which he—
for whatever reason—abstains. The temple section does not really lead
anywhere. It is not even clear whether the Lukan accusation of stub-
bornness and killing the prophets (vv. 51-53) should be intrinsically
related to the immediately preceding verses or not.
Indeed, the very inconclusiveness of the temple section makes sense
in connection with Luke's overall view of the temple, which is rather
positive.1 If he had heard that Stephen had a more negative attitude, he
has obscured this in the speech. The speech may make the reader
speech are fully explicable on other grounds. See G. Stemberger, 'Die Stephanusrede
(Apg 7) und die judische Tradition', in Jesus in der Verkundigung der Kirche (SNTU,
A.I; 1976), pp. 154-74; E. Richard, 'Acts 7: An Investigation of the Samaritan
Evidence', CBQ 39 (1977), pp. 190-208; Schneider, 'Stefanus', pp. 225-30.
1. Cf. Schneider, Apostelgeschichte, p. 468: what comes under criticism is
'nicht der Tempel selbst, sondern nur ein bestimmtes Missverstandnis seines Wesens
und seiner Funktion'; for Luke the temple is a house of prayer (Lk. 19.46) and a
place of teaching (Lk. 19.47; Acts 3. Iff., etc.). Cf. Stanton, 'Stephen', pp. 352-53:
Stephen attacks false worship rather than the temple. ' . . . in supposing that 6
vyiGXoq dwells ev xeipOTcoirjtoiq he has not been truly worshipped and has been
spurned' (p. 352); Larsson, 'Hellenisten', pp. 218ff. Luke's post-70 perspective
probably plays a part. Should Stephen's speech reflect on God and the temple in the
light of the destruction of the building, it is paralleled by Josephus's speech in War
5.362-420; see F.G. Downing, 'Ethical Pagan Theism and the Speeches in Acts',
NTS 27 (1981), pp. 544-63 (p. 560). Cf. Acts 6.14 and Kilgallen, Speech,
pp. 116-17.
wonder what Stephen's position was all about, but it does not give
unambiguous support to the claim of the false witnesses. For Luke,
they remain false witnesses.
Nevertheless, the possibility remains that Luke has in some ways
preserved a true memory of Stephen. He does, after all, portray Paul
as a preacher of justification (Acts 13.38-39), no matter how un-
Pauline his Paul may actually sound. Likewise, Luke may have known
of Stephen as a notorious preacher against the temple; so he takes up
the topic in the speech, but insists that the accusations are false (even
in the light of the speech). At best, then, we might infer that Luke had
heard that the temple was an issue when Stephen was killed. We
cannot, however, fill this general picture with concrete details from
the speech.
We will do well to recall at this point that the speech as a whole
displays a wholly positive attitude both to Moses and to the law medi-
ated through him. It is not uncommon to find in v. 38 a view which
stems from the Hellenistic synagogue but was taken over and pre-
served among Hellenistic Jewish Christians.1 Luke shares the appre-
ciation of the law in vv. 51-53, and his overall relatively positive
view of the law likewise shows that he is indebted to this tradition.
While it would, for chronological reasons, be unsafe to use these parts
of the speech for a reconstruction of the teachings of the Stephen
group (the Hellenists at the earliest stage of their history), they retain
their value in showing that at least some people in the Hellenist tradi-
tion at some pre-Lukan stage held such a positive attitude.
7. The Temple in Paul

It is possible, then, to posit a continuity between Jesus and Stephen as
regards their respective attitudes to the temple. It is possible to try to
explain Stephen's (supposed) criticisms of the temple as flowing out of
Jesus' expectation of the new temple. This possible connection between
1. Cf. Conzelmann, Apostelgeschichte, pp. 50-51; Schneider, Apostel-

geschichte, p. 448; Weiser, Apostelgeschichte, p. 181. Wilckens, Missionsreden,
pp. 21 Off. differs in that he considers even the oldest layer of the speech as a
Hellenistic Jewish Christian creation. It makes no difference to our problem whether
v. 38 was created or taken over by Christian Hellenists. In both cases it was
important to them.
Stephen and Jesus does not, however, really help explain Paul.1
Regarding the 'bridge' issue, the question of the temple would only be
of importance if one could establish, say, the following chain: criti-
cism of the present temple, criticism of the sacrifices, criticism of the
law that commands sacrifices, criticism of the law at large. Sacrifices,
however, are not a burning issue in the framework of the Jewish-
Gentile question, which is so crucial for Paul. Criticism of the temple
is absent in Paul. Paul does use cultic imagery in a metaphorical way2
and he speaks of the Christians as God's temple (1 Cor. 3.16; 6.19).3
But the spiritualized or internalized temple language is, in Paul, not
connected with his criticisms of the law.4 Occasionally he can, in the
course of a qal-wa-homer argument, refer to priests, sacrifices and
altar without signs of disapproval (1 Cor. 9.13), and one may ponder
the significance of the expression £K IICOV in Rom. 11.26 (did Paul
expect the parousia to take place in the temple area?). If a theological
line should be drawn from Stephen's supposed criticism of the temple,
that line would lead not to Paul but to Hebrews. Influence of the
1. Simon, who regards Stephen as 'almost unparalleled in the early church'

('Temple', p. 128), also finds a contrast between Stephen and Paul (p. 127). The
more polemical an attitude to the temple one ascribes to Stephen, the more striking
must the contrast to Paul appear.
2. Sacrifices: Rom. 12.1; 15.16; Phil. 2.17. Priesthood: Rom. 15.16; Phil. 2.17.
3. It may be that the reference to the dxeiporcoiriToq o m a in 2 Cor. 5.1 can be
explained as a spiritualized allusion to Jesus' saying about the temple, stripped of its
concrete meaning. For a discussion of the passage, see J.-F. Collange, Enigmes de
la deuxiime epttre de Paul aux Corinthiens (SNTSMS, 18; 1972), pp. 179ff.
(however, the conclusion that oiida refers to the exalted Christ [p. 198], fails to
carry conviction).
4. 1 Corinthians, where the temple language is found (3.16; 6.19) displays on
the whole a surprisingly positive attitude to the law; cf. J.W. Drane, Paul—Libertine
or Legalist? A Study in the Theology of the Major Pauline Epistles (1975), pp. 60ff.
RJ. McKelvey, The New Temple: The Church in the New Testament (1969),
p. 123, raises the question whether Paul 'regarded the new temple as having
effectively and finally superseded the old temple', but hesitates to answer it in the
affirmative. He also considers the possibility that Stephen 'followed Jesus in
predicting a new temple' which would provide a link between Jesus' teaching on the
temple and that of Paul on the church as the new temple, but again he hesitates to
draw such a conclusion (p. 87). Klinzing (Umdeutung, p. 168) derives the use of
the temple image in 1 Cor. 3.16-17 from Qumranic traditions; in 6.19, however,
Hellenistic influence is visible (p. 184).
Hellenists might, at best, explain Paul's disinterest in the physical

temple and his internalized use of the temple language.
8. Traces of Hellenist Theology in Pre-Pauline Formulae?

a. Hengel reckons with the possibility that the expression 6 v6|io<; xo\>
Xpioxou in Gal. 6.2 stems from the traditions of the 'Hellenists'. 1
This is simply a corollary of the thesis that Stephen proclaimed Jesus
as a new legislator. It is not implausible that Paul is taking up a tradi-
tional phrase in Gal. 6.2; his own view of the law as set forth in
Galatians goes in a different direction. But then the odds are that Paul
takes up a phrase used by his opponents in Galatia, firm defenders of
the Mosaic law,2 and gives it a new content.3 Nothing can be built on
this expression concerning the Hellenists,
b. P. Stuhlmacher refers to various traditional fragments, which
would probably have been known to the apostle from Antioch, that is, the
community which preserved and developed the inheritance of the Stephen
circle with particular care. Whether the missionary community of Antioch
was the place of origin of the baptism and Christ texts, or whether they
were to some extent already commonly used in Jerusalem, must remain an
open question.4
The formulae in question are 1 Cor. 6.11; Rom. 8.30; 2 Cor. 5.21;
Rom. 3.25-26. It is the last-mentioned one that is most relevant to our
purposes. In this case Stuhlmacher does not leave open the question of
the origin of the formula, but traces it back to Jerusalem, in effect to
Stephen himself.5
Stuhlmacher offers a bold reconstruction. Stephen took up Jesus'
1. Hengel, Between, p. 151 n. 137. He is followed by Stuhlmacher

(Versohnung, p. 82 [with n. 20]) who even speaks of the 'Torah of Christ'.
2. Cf. U. Wilckens, 'Zur Entwicklung des paulinischen Gesetzesverstand-
nisses', NTS 28 (1982), pp. 154-90 (p. 176); Martyn, 'Mission', p. 228.
3. I thus wish to modify my statement in Paul, p. 80 n. 194. Paul does use
vou.o<; in Gal. 6.2 in a loose sense, but in so doing he may well make use of and
reinterpret an existing formula.
4. Stuhlmacher, Versohnung, pp. 77-78.
5. Stuhlmacher, Versohnung, pp. 80ff., 134-35. The formula is traced back to
the 'Hellenists' also by U. Wilckens (Der Brief an dieRomer [EKKNT, 6.1; 1978],
I, p. 241); B.F. Meyer, 'The Pre-Pauline Formula in Rom. 3.25-26a\ NTS 29
(1983), pp. 198-208 (p. 206).
own proclamation of his expiatory death (Mk 10.45).1 Consequently,

all other expiatory sacrifices become unnecessary, which is the end of
the temple cult in Jerusalem.2 This view is contained in Rom. 3.25,
where Jesus is identified with the kapporet? and makes understandable
the death of Stephen. Stuhlmacher gives a vivid description of the
impact of the preaching of Stephen and his friends among Hellenistic
Jews in Jerusalem:
These pious people in their synagogues must almost have been struck
speechless, when they heard such notes as those struck in Rom. 3.25-
26!4
Stuhlmacher attempts to show, against the majority of interpreters,
that the taixpov saying (Mk 10.45) and thus the notion of Jesus' expia-
tory death goes back to the historical Jesus.5 The attempt is not
successful. Stuhlmacher constructs a very complicated traditio-histori-
cal background for the saying (Dan. 7.9-14 + Ethiopic Enoch + Isa.
43.3-4 + Isa. 53.10-12) which cannot carry conviction.6
1. Stuhlmacher, Versohnung, pp. 78-79.

2. Stuhlmacher, Versohnung, pp. 79, 135.
3. Stuhlmacher, Versohnung y pp. 121ff. He states that, for understanding the
intention of the tradition behind Rom. 3.25, 'hangt so gut wie alles vom Verstandnis
d e s . . . Wortes itaxarnpiov ab' (p. 121).
4. Stuhlmacher, Versohnung, p. 82.
5. Stuhlmacher, Versohnung, pp. 27ff.
6. To mention just a few weak points: Stuhlmacher (Versohnung, pp. 34-35)
connects the verb SKXKOVEIV in Mk 10.45 with the root $m$, used in the OT only in
Dan. 7.10. He claims: 'Der traditionsgeschichtliche Ort des diakonein von
Mk 10.45. . . ist die hoheitliche Menschensohnuberlieferung von Dan 7 und der
athiopischen Henochapokalypse!' (p. 34). I do not find any verbs for 'serve' in the
verses from 1 Enoch Stuhlmacher refers to. Dan. 7.10 speaks of angels rendering
service to God. In v. 14, where the Son of Man is being served (by the nations),
another verb (plh) is used. According to Stuhlmacher (Versohnung, p. 58),
Jesus hat fiir die Zeit seines irdischen Weges dieses hoheitsvolle Verstandnis der
Sendung des Menschensohnes abgewiesen. Statt die Anbetung durch die Volker und den
Dienst der Engel zu erwarten, wahlte er selbst den Weg des Dienstes. . .
But how could Jesus have expected service through the angels in his earthly life?
Both Daniel and Enoch envisage a heavenly enthronement. Moreover, if Isa. 43.3-4
really stands in the background of Mk 10.45 (Stuhlmacher, Versohnung, p. 37,
following W. Grimm), Jesus would have read the OT in a very curious way indeed.
(In Isaiah, Egypt and other peoples are given as ransom in exchange for the Servantl)
Moreover, it is not at all certain that Itaxoxfipiov means kapporet in

Rom. 3.25, rather than 'means of expiation' in a more general sense.
If the kapporet were meant, a strange picture would result: Jesus as
the lid of the ark being sprinkled with his own blood.1 Stuhlmacher
de-emphasizes the mention of blood.2 But the argument should pro-
ceed the other way round. What is clear at the outset is that blood is
mentioned, not that the kapporet is being envisaged. If the identifi-
cation of iâaxfiptov with the kapporet fits poorly with the mention
of blood, we had better opt for another meaning for !A,aoxT|piov.
Moreover, why should those who coined the formula behind Rom.
3.25 have resorted in a rather bookish way to equating Jesus precisely
with the kapporet which did not exist in the second temple but was a
thing of the past?3 Both Hebrews and Mark chose more relevant
images to convey the conviction that the temple cult had come to an
end, speaking of Jesus' rendering the holy of the holies obsolete or of
the rending of the curtain respectively. But if the Hellenists really
thought of a once-and-for-all act which renders all cultic acts super-
fluous, why did they choose to talk of sins previously committed?4
Stuhlmacher seems to ascribe too sweeping assertions to them.
In an unduly neglected Harvard dissertation, S.K. Williams argues
persuasively that Rom. 3.25—as well as the idea of Jesus' death as a
saving event in general—betrays the influence of 4 Maccabees,5 a
writing probably composed in Antioch in the thirties.6 The notion of
Jesus' death as a saving event is indebted to the interpretation of the
1. Stuhlmacher (Versohnung, pp. 123ff.) does manage to meet three of the four
arguments levelled by E. Lohse (Mdrtyrer und Gottesknecht [FRLANT, 64; 2nd edn,
1963], pp. 151-52) against the kapporet interpretation; this fourth argument stands,
however.
2. Stuhlmacher, Versohnung, p. 130: '. . . braucht nicht an jeder Stelle, an
der vom Blut die Rede ist, auch schon das Phanomen des Opfers betont zu sein. In
Rom 3,25f. bleibt das Moment des Opfers Jesu unbetont. . . '
3. Josephus does not mention the kapporet in his description of the feast days
(Ant. 3.242-43), speaking only of the sprinkling of the roof and of the floor, nor do
rabbinic discussions about the sprinkling (Yom. 5) suggest that the kapporet
intrigued the minds of the rabbis.
4. This 'Aporie' is pointed out by Stuhlmacher himself (Versohnung, p. 135).
5. Or, alternatively, of Greek traditions that also influenced 4 Maccabees;
S.K. Williams, Jesus' Death as Saving Event: The Background and Origin of a
Concept (HDR, 2; 1975), p. 233.
6. Cf. Williams, Jesus' Death , pp. 248ff.
death of Jewish martyrs as 'effective' in 4 Maccabees, which in turn

owes that notion to Greek ideas.1 This interpretation makes excellent
sense in connection with our problem. It is likely that the formula in
Rom. 3.25 (-26) originated in Antioch.2 If so, it is a product of the
'Hellenist' group, but not of Stephen himself. Yet it is early enough to
have influenced the thought of Paul who developed the idea, no longer
limiting the effect of Jesus' death to sins previously committed.
In 4 Mace. 17.21-22, according to Williams's interpretation,
the author may not be saying that the martyrs are sacrificial victims or
ransoms paid. Rather: in light of the extraordinary faith in which they
offer their lives for the sake of the law, God accepts that supreme offering
as He accepts a perfect sacrifice; He regards it as an act of expiation.3
Williams gives Rom. 3.25-26 a similar interpretation, taking

jcpoeOexo to mean that,
God makes available for man an iXaccnpiov because it is as itaxaxripiov
that He looks upon (regards, considers) Christ crucified.4 Thus
TcpoiiGeoGai refers not so much to an overt action as to a 'decision' on
God's part.5
If this reconstruction is on the right track, the Hellenists (but not
Stephen himself!) did function as a bridge, but not between Jesus and
Paul; rather, they constituted a bridge between Jewish martyr
theology, influenced by Greek ideas, and Paul. Paul then gave their
interpretation of Jesus' death a more universal application. Indirectly,
it may have influenced his view of the law. But we cannot claim on the
basis of Rom. 3.25-26 that the Hellenists denied the law 'as a way to
salvation'6—if indeed the law ever was conceived of as such a way.7
1. See esp. Williams, Jesus' Death , pp. 153ff.

2. Cf., e.g., Walter, 'Paul', p. 59.
3. Williams, Jesus' Death, p. 179.
4. Williams rejects a meaning as specialized as kapporet, preferring the meaning
'means of expiation' (Jesus' Death, p. 41).
5. Williams, Jesus' Death, p. 38. One can accept Williams's main thesis
without subscribing to his view that Rom. 3.25 has the situation of Gentiles in view
(pp. 55-56).
6. Thus Meyer, 'Formula', p. 206.
7. See the discussion in Raisanen, Paul, pp. 177ff.
9. Inferences from Paul's Theology and Practice

If Gal. 1.15-16 is not mere hindsight, it was immediately clear to Paul
that the encounter with Christ entailed for him a commission to pro-
claim the gospel among Gentiles. This indicates that, before the con-
version experience, the Gentile question had constituted a crucial bone
of contention between Paul and the Hellenists he had persecuted. At
this point no grand-scale mission was yet envisaged; it took Paul more
than a decade to develop the vision of a worldwide mission.
Apparently a prominent reason for Paul's persecuting the Hellenists
was the question of individual Gentile converts. On what conditions
were they to be admitted? It is noteworthy that still in Galatians (5.11;
6.12) Paul establishes a connection between neglect of circumcision
and persecution: practising circumcision is a means of avoiding perse-
cution. That, too, might indicate that admission of Gentiles without
circumcision on the part of the Hellenists was an important reason for
Paul's persecuting them.1
Several scholars have suggested that the Hellenists had admitted
Gentiles without circumcision in, say, the Damascus region before
Paul's conversion.2 Some have even dated the beginnings of this mis-
sion before the death of Stephen.3 Had such activities become known
in Jerusalem, persecution of the Hellenists is just what could be
expected. But it is intriguing that the death of Stephen and the begin-
ning of the persecution occurred, according to Acts, in Jerusalem and
not somewhere else. Indeed, G. Klein once suggested that Stephen and
his friends did admit Gentiles without circumcision in Jerusalem.4
1. Cf. Sanders, Paul, the Law and the Jewish People, pp. 190-91. For an
alternative explanation for the connection between circumcision and persecution in
Galatians, see R. Jewett, The Agitators and the Galatian Congregation', NTS 17
(1970-71), pp. 198-212.
2. See, e.g., Scroggs, 'Christianity', p. 199; Muller, 'Rezeption', pp. 167-68.
3. Schmithals, Paulus, p. 27; G. Klein, review of Die Apostelgeschichte by
E. Haenchen, ZKG 68 (1957), p. 368.
4. Klein, review of Apostelgeschichte. The objections against this view men-
tioned in Raisanen, Paul, p. 253 n. 128 (stemming from Haenchen, Apostel-
geschichte, p. 261) are met by Wedderburn (see the following note). Hengel,
Between, p. 164 n. 57, objects to Klein's conjecture that
AJ.M. Wedderburn puts forward a similar suggestion, pointing out

that
mere laxity with regard to contact with non-Jews is surely not enough to
explain the outbreak of persecution even in Jerusalem. . . Some declara-
tion of policy is surely involved which seemed subversive of the Jewish
national identity or culture, and that may well have involved, say,
promising non-Jews full rights to salvation without demanding circumci-
sion or perhaps even ritual purity of any sort.1
Indeed, speaking against the temple could well account for Stephen's
death in Jerusalem. One may doubt, whether it is enough to explain
the spreading of the hostility towards the new movement into more
distant parts. But the Jewish-Gentile problem could have already
arisen in Jerusalem. If there were ecstatic mass experiences in
Jerusalem (cf. Acts 2.1-13) where Hellenistic Jews participated,2 can
we exclude the possibility that some non-Jews were also present?
The story of Philip and the Ethiopian (Acts 8.26-40) may also be
relevant here. It has been suggested, not without reason, that this may
be the Hellenists' story of the first conversion of a Gentile.3 Some
scholars have added that, looking at the story when detached from the
Lukan context, one gets the impression that Philip is sent out for his
task from Jerusalem.4 H. Kraft points out:
the situation in Jerusalem was as unsuitable as one could imagine for a mission to the
Gentiles apart from the law (cf. Acts 21.29; Gal. 2.3; Pes 3b = Bill. II, 551). A Gentile
Babylonian is killed because he took part in the passover meal in Jerusalem.
But this description of the situation fits perfectly with the fact that the Hellenists'
activities in Jerusalem led to a catastrophe!
1. AJ.M. Wedderburn, 'Paul and the Law', 5 / 7 38 (1985), pp. 613-22
(p. 621). He rightly assumes that the Hellenists' policy probably 'was a positive
one, offering access to God's people without the need for the law, rather than a negative
one of repudiating or questioning the law'. See now Wedderburn, 'Paul and Jesus'.
2. Hen gel (Between, p. 3) takes Acts 2.5ff. as an indication of the existence of
the group of the Hellenists.
3. Haenchen, Apostelgeschichte, p. 305; Conzelmann, Apostelgeschichte,
p. 55; Schneider, Apostelgeschichte, p. 498; Schmithals, 'Herkunft', p. 411.
4. Conzelmann, Apostelgeschichte, p. 55; cf. H. Kasting, Die Anfdnge der
urchristlichen Mission (BEvT, 55; 1969), p. 104 (possibly before the expulsion
from Jerusalem).
Here—unless one wants to overwork the idea of miraculous guidance—it
is presupposed that Philip had departed from Jerusalem. This means that
this conversion story took place before the Hellenists were driven out of
Jerusalem. . . Had Philip started from Samaria (or Caesarea), then he
would not only have had a very long journey to make in order to catch up
with the eunuch, but he would either have had to travel via Jerusalem, or
he would not have met the eunuch until he reached Gaza. The most prob-
able of the possibilities, however, is that Philip is in Jerusalem when the
Angel of the Lord gives him his task.1
Thus we could have here an indication that uncircumcised God-fearers

were baptized by the Hellenists already in the earliest period.
With all this, we have surely moved a good step into the realm of
uncertain speculation, though not necessarily any farther than is the
case with some other recent reconstructions of the mission and mes-
sage of the Hellenists. Much depends on the assessment of Paul's case.
If he really did persecute Christians in Jerusalem, the chances that
circumcision was already an issue there are greatly enhanced. If
he did not (which is likely), the question remains open; the issue
may have shifted later on from temple to circumcision. In any case,
those who were persecuted by Paul with some probability neglected
circumcision as an entrance requirement.
Let us in this connection very briefly review some of the salient
features of Paul's ambiguous attitude to the law as it appears in his
letters. Paul always observed the law in a Jewish environment
(1 Cor. 9); presumably he even had Timothy circumcised for strategic
reasons (Acts 16.3).2 Paul does not normally fight against the law.
When among the Gentiles he simply bypasses it, treating it as a
nonentity (being a Gentile to Gentiles, 1 Cor. 9). In 1 Thessalonians,
his earliest extant letter, written to a Gentile Christian audience, Paul
says nothing about the law (although making his converts conform to
Jewish ethics, ch. 4). Paul's ethical teaching displays no libertinism.
Paul does put forward more trenchant criticisms of and more negative
statements on the law than any other NT writer, yet mostly in conflict
settings which have to do with the conditions on which Gentiles are to
be admitted. Many of Paul's negative arguments seem strikingly ad
hoc, as if he were still looking for arguments for his peculiar view of
the law. One would imagine that he would have found some firmer
1. H. Kraft, Die Entstehung des Christentums (1981), pp. 260-61.

2. On Paul's practice, see Raisanen, Paul, pp. 73ff.
ground to stand on if he had thought through the question of law some

twenty years earlier. Along with the negative statements Paul puts
forward a set of affirmative comments on the law, even suggesting
that he himself establishes, rather than annuls, it.1
Paul's position seems easier to account for, if he joined a form of
Christianity which sat light to the 'ritual' parts of the law in the con-
text of its mission to the Gentiles, but did not bring forward any
thoroughgoing critique of the law and showed no hostility toward it.
It is a little difficult to think that the Hellenists would have been a lot
more radical than Paul, with his striking mixture of positive and
negative statements on the law.2
10. Why Was Circumcision Dropped?

What made the Hellenists—whether in Stephen's lifetime, or a little
later—drop circumcision? There is some evidence that points to a
process without a 'decisive theological step', in which 'action preceded
theology'.3 Surely the experience that uncircumcised Gentiles could
display the ecstatic gifts of the Spirit (cf. Acts 10.44ff; 15.7ff.) was
important. To be sure, Luke connects this 'empirical' argument with
Peter rather than the Hellenists. Yet some hints in Paul (Gal. 2.8; 3.2)
point to a similar direction.4 Furthermore, just as 'it was Jesus' sense
of living at the turn of the ages which allowed him to think that the
Mosaic law was not final and absolute',5 we may assume that the
eschatological consciousness was one of the forces driving the
Hellenists to a new kind of action. But this may be due more to an
analogy than to direct dependence on Jesus. For the Hellenists were
totally dependent on whatever impressions of Jesus were mediated to
1. See Raisanen, Paul, pp. 254-56, 187, etc.

2. Barnabas and other leading Antiochenes, at least, were more willing to com-
promise than was Paul (Gal. 2.1 Iff.). It is symptomatic that Schmithals, 'Herkunft',
pp. 400-401 has to make a sharp distinction between Antiochene Christianity and the
form of Christianity to which Paul was converted (see above, p. 155 n. 1). His
reconstruction causes Paul to fluctuate.
3. Wilson, Gentiles, p. 152; J. Jervell, Luke and the People of God: A New
Look at Luke-Acts (1972), p. 136.
4. This is now elaborated by Wedderburn, 'Paul and Jesus', p. 171.
them by the 'Hebrews'. 1 And the Hebrew disciples had not gained
from the teaching of their Master 'the impression that the Mosaic
dispensation.. .had already passed away'.2
The eschatological consciousness was, however, something that
united the Hellenists with the Hebrews. There must have been some
other reason for their interpreting the demand of the situation in their
particular way. It is difficult not to connect the activities of the
Hellenists with their Dispersion background, above all with the
'spiritualizing' tendencies at work in the Dispersion. One recalls in
particular the 'allegorizers' relatively mildly rebuked by Philo in
Migr. Abr. 87-93. They had apparently stopped practising certain
things commanded in the law, since they had perceived the symbolic
meaning of the commandments. Philo, for all his critical remarks on
these people, in fact shares their interpretation of the law; what keeps
him from overstepping the same borderline is loyalty to other people
and concern for his reputation.3 The experience of the 'Hellenists'
among non-Jews probably prepared them for the decision to give up
those parts of the law which were most offensive to would-be con-
verts. The experience of Christ as the Lord then somehow freed them
to join the 'allegorizers' in dropping the outward observance of some
commandments and thus to take the step which Philo, for all his
liberal theory, refused to take.
It is interesting to note in this connection that Philo shows an ani-
mosity against apostates to the point of strongly supporting their
1. This is a difficulty with Wedderburn's ('Paul and Jesus') impressive attempt

to trace a trajectory of an 'openness to the outsider' from Jesus via the Hellenists to
Paul. As Wedderburn, citing E.P. Sanders (Jesus, p. 174) himself notes, a high
tolerance of sinners seems not to have been characteristic of the early church. 'The
early church' must after all refer to the 'Hebrews'. So can we confidently assume
that the 'Hellenists' were well informed of Jesus' openness to outsiders within
Israel? Cf. below, pp. 197-201. Wedderburn's analogy between Jesus' eating with
sinners and Gentiles' receiving the spirit (p. 172) seems overdrawn. Nevertheless,
the possibility that a memory of Jesus' attitude to the 'sinners' was one of the factors
that stimulated the Hellenists in their admission of Gentiles without circumcision
should be seriously considered. It is beyond the scope of this article which is strictly
devoted to the question of the law.
3. 'We shall not incur the censure of the many and the charges they are sure to
bring against us' (Migr. Abr. 93). See on the passage D.M. Hay, 'Philo's References
to Other Allegorists', Studia Philonica 6 (1979-80), pp. 41-75 (pp. 47-51).
execution, even without a court process.1 If an individual could have

such mixed feelings, it is very easy to understand that both a liberal
practice and a deadly opposition to it could arise precisely in the
Hellenistic synagogues in Jerusalem. Paul the fanatic persecutor, who
suddenly makes a full turn, provides another excellent illustration of
this state of mind; it may not be illicit psychologizing to assume that
deep in his mind Paul had nagging doubts about some commandments,
although he suppressed them in his conscious reasoning.
But once the 'spiritualizing' tendencies from the Dispersion are
recognised as a possible stimulus for the activities of the Hellenists, the
possibility is opened up that they may also have had theological
(rather than merely 'empirical') arguments at hand for their new
course of action, even though Luke does not betray them (yet cf. the
spiritualizing of circumcision in Acts 7.51). It then becomes necessary
to take another look at Paul with the following question in mind: Can
we detect in his letters bits of tradition with a spiritualizing tendency
which could stem from Antiochene theology—from the heritage of
the early Hellenists?
11. Traces of 'Hellenist' Spiritualizing in Paul?

Commenting on a previous draft of this paper, G. Sellin pointed out
that not only is there in early Christianity a line of thought from
Mark's passion story to Hebrews which spiritualizes the temple, but
Rom. 2.25-29 and Phil. 3.3. indicate
In the matter of circumcision, then, there is something that corresponds to
this in the NT, significantly enough already in Paul. .. So it cannot be
ruled out that such a Hellenistic spiritualization of the idea of circumcision
(as had already occurred in Jerusalem in relation to the temple) stood at the
beginning of the new practice in the synagogues in Damascus and
Antioch.2
This view seems plausible. In fact, several other statements in Paul's

letters can be adduced, which at least make sense on the assumption
that they reflect Hellenist traditions, not always fully assimilated by
Paul into his own thought. No full examination can be undertaken here;
a rapid listing of possible candidates must suffice. It is astonishing,
1. Spec. Leg. 1.54-57, 316; cf. Raisanen, Paul, p. 36 with n. 104.

2. Sellin, 'Antwort', p. 8.
though, that while traces from the Hellenists have been sought in the
remotest corners of Early Christian literature, practically no one has
taken up these bits of evidence which are as likely as any. The reason
must be that they don't quite fit the picture of Stephen and his group
as radical iconoclasts in matters concerning the law. But once this
picture has been shaken on other grounds, these more positive
spiritualizing or ethicizing statements on the law take on a new interest.
In fact, most of the relevant verses were attributed to the 'kerygma of
the Hellenistic Church aside from Paul' in Bultmann's reconstruction,
but even he failed to make the connection with the Stephen group.
As for Rom. 2.25-29, several traditional, not characteristically
Pauline features have been observed: the positive evaluation of the
Kp-QTCTOv; the reference to a circumcision of the heart; the opposition
flesh/heart (rather than flesh/spirit).1 The opposition spirit/letter in
v. 29 seems Pauline.2 Yet one may ask whether it is not more natural,
once the traditional background of the passage is recognized, to take
rcvevuxx—on the level of pre-Pauline tradition—in the sense of human
spirit or mind, so that the passage speaks of a spiritual rather than
literal circumcision.3 In adding o\> ypduôcTi Paul gives the idea a
twist in the direction of his own peculiar thought. In Phil. 3.3 the
notion of 'true circumcision' has then been given a characteristically
'Pauline' turn.
It is intriguing to find points of contact with our passage in logion 53 of
the Gospel of Thomas, where the disciples ask: 'Is circumcision profitable
(cocpeAxtv) or not?* Jesus gives an anti-Jewish answer, and then goes
on: 'But the true circumcision in Spirit (nvex>\ia) has found complete
1. E. Schweizer, ' "Der Jude im Verborgenen..." Zu Rom. 2.28f. und

Mt 6.1-18', in Neues Testament und Kirche (Festschrift R. Schnackenburg; 1974),
pp. 115-24 (pp. 115-16). It could be added that only in Rom. 2.27 does Paul use
TeXeco when speaking about the law.
2. Schweizer, 'Jude', p. 122.
3. Sanders (Paul, the Law, and the Jewish People, p. 127) thinks that nv£x>\ia
is *the spirit of the human who obeys the law' rather than God's spirit. In Paul and
the Law, p. 105 n. 64,1 assumed that Paul 'glides' in his reasoning from Gentiles
to Christians in v. 29 while admitting that the train of thought would be clearer if
Gentiles were in view. That 7cve\)jxa might refer to the human spirit seemed unlikely
to me in view of Phil. 3.3. But if there is a fixed tradition behind 2.25ff., there is no
need to read the verse in the light of Phil. 3.3. Cf. 1 Pet. 3.4 (6 Kpuftxoq TTI<;
ev x& a<p0aptq) xox>rcpaeax;Kal fja'oxuyo nve\)\iaxo<;).
usefulness.' The combination of dxpeêiv and 7cvd)fia in connection with

circumcision both here and in Rom. 2.25,29 is striking. Elsewhere in the
Gospel of Thomas there are no signs of influence from Romans.1 Could
the similarities point to some sort of common tradition?2
In any case, it is not novel to assume that Paul is using tradition here.
It is well known that the conclusion reached in this passage is at odds
with Paul's overall purpose in Rom. 1.18-3.20. The lesson from
2.25ff. is not that Jews and Greeks alike are 'under sin', but that if
you wish to count as a Jew, you should live like one.3 Sanders finds
the whole of Romans 2 so different from the rest of Paul's thought
that he resorts to regarding the whole chapter as a synagogue sermon
from the Diaspora, taken over by Paul with slight accommodations.4
We need not go that far, if we assume that Paul, writing to a com-
munity probably founded by some Hellenists, makes heavy use of
Hellenist traditions, thereby getting into strong internal tension in his
arguments. 5 We will return to this chapter below. Gal. 3.28 is
generally recognized as a piece of baptismal liturgy.6 According to
Kasemann, it represents the characteristic slogan of an enthusiastic
Hellenistic community.7 If so, why not the community in Antioch?
1. Unless logion 50 contains a reference to Rom. 9.26; cf. E. Pagels, The

Gnostic Paul (1975), p. 39.
2. J.-E. Menard (L'evangile selon Thomas, p. 156) mentions the possibility
that Thomas may have borrowed the relevant wordsfromRomans.
3. Cf. Raisanen, Paul, p. 107.
4. Sanders, Paul, pp. 123ff.
5. Schweizer ('Jude\ pp. 121-22) suggests that the combination of circumci-
sion of the heart and a 'theology of the Spirit' might stem from the group around
Stephen. He appeals to Acts 7.51 where uncircumcision of the heart and resistance to
the Holy Spirit are coupled. The parallel depends on taking 7cv£uu,<x as God's spirit
in Rom. 2.29. Moreover, Acts 7.51 is probably Lukan. Still, it is not impossible that
Luke has preserved a 'Hellenist' motif. Whether it can be traced back as far as
Stephen is another matter (it surely cannot on the basis of Acts alone).
6. This is argued, e.g., by W.A. Meeks ('The Image of the Androgyne: Some
Uses of a Symbol in Earliest Christianity', HR 13 [1973-74], pp. 165-208
[pp. 180-81]), who, however, leaves open the possibility that Paul himself could
have 'introduced such a statement into baptismal parenesis' (pp. 181-82).
7. E. Kasemann, New Testament Questions of Today, pp. 129-30. Schmithals
('Herkunft', p. 401) regards the verse as a universalistic formula from the
Damascene community (which was, in his view, more radical than the congregation
in Antioch, see above p. 155 n. 1).
o\)K evi 'Ioi)8aio<; o\)5£ eEM,t|v could refer to the dropping of

circumcision as an entrance requirement.
Three times Paul repeats the formula that neither circumcision or
uncircumcision is anything (Gal. 5.6; 6.15; 1 Cor. 7.19). But while he
twice formulates that which counts in distinctly Christian terms (faith,
new creation), in 1 Cor. 7.19 he says that what matters is 'keeping
God's commandments'. xf|pr|oiQ is a hapax legomenon in Paul, and the
statement as a whole is a little surprising in the overall context of his
theology. 1 Modifying his earlier view of Antiochene theology,
Schmithals writes:
Hellenistic Jewish Christianity has not rejected the law, but, in line with
the interests of the liberal Hellenistic synagogue, has reduced it to its
moral content, or interpreted it in the context of the love commandment.
This understanding of the law is met also in Paul (e.g. Rom. 13.8-10;
Gal. 5.13-14; 1 Cor. 7.19) and stands relatively unattached, alongside
his thesis that Christ is the end of the law (Rom. 10.4).2
This may well be so. Only, from the point of view of the Hellenistic
synagogue, there is all the difference between interpreting the law in
terms of the love command and reducing it to its moral content. The
Alexandrian allegorizers notwithstanding, the synagogue in general
was not that liberal, as the example of Philo shows. Do we see here a
glimpse of Antiochene theology of the law?
That the love command (Rom. 13.8-10; Gal. 5.13-14) came to Paul
via the Hellenists was already assumed in §3 of this essay. Such a
summarizing of the content of the law in an ethical principle is fully
in keeping with spiritualizing tendencies.
We should further recall here what was said about Paul's temple
language. He twice refers to a VOCOQ in a spiritualized sense: the
Christians are God's temple (1 Cor. 3.16-17; 6.19). Bultmann
included both references in the Hellenistic kerygma.3 Since then the
Qumran scrolls have shown that direct Hellenistic influence is not
necessary to account for metaphorical talk about the temple. But even
Klinzing, who traces 1 Cor. 3.16-17 back to Qumranic influences,
1. Cf. Raisanen, Paul, p. 68, with reference to R. Gyllenberg's observation

that the statement sounds very much Jewish and very slightly specifically Christian.
2. Schmithals, 'Herkunft', p. 400 n. 33.
3. Bultmann, Theology, pp. 100, 115.
detects Hellenistic ideas in the background of 1 Cor. 6.19.1 In that

case, why go beyond Antioch?
It should be noted at this juncture that the Deutero-Pauline writing closest
to Paul himself, Colossians, contains not only a parallel to Gal 3,28
(Col. 3,11), but also a statement which witnesses to a spiritualized view of
circumcision applying, strikingly enough, to the rite the adjective
dxetpO7co(r|io<; (Col 2.11) which is much more apposite when talking
about temples. Could this be another relic of Hellenist theology which
indicates that a spiritualized view of the temple was sooner or later
coupled with a corresponding view of circumcision in, say, the
Antiochene community?2
In Rom. 12.1 Paul speaks of a living and holy sacrifice and of the
ôyiKTi Xaxpeia of the Christians. All commentators agree that Paul
moves here in a Hellenistic tradition,3 yet the possibility that he could
be directly using Hellenist Christian traditions is hardly envisaged.
Kasemann states, however, 'Paul thus stands in a Christian tradition,
one characterized by firm motifs and terms, mediated through
Hellenistic Judaism and taken up in the context of baptismal
paraenesis'. 4 If so, which Christians took up this tradition? Is there
any group more likely than the Hellenists or the Antiochene
congregation?
Encouraged by these observations we return to Romans 2. There we
meet the notorious Gentiles who do by nature what the law requires,
thereby playing havoc with Paul's argument in the larger context. The
Hellenistic background of vv. 14-15 is well known, yet the general
1. On 1 Cor. 3.16-17, see Klinzing, Umdeutung, pp. 168ff.; on 6.19,

Umdeutung, pp. 183-84. Klinzing (p. 183) attributes the motif of the indwelling
divine spirit to tradition, as it is in the text of 1 Cor. 3 'kaum begriindet'. For a dis-
cussion of the almost certainly non-Pauline passage 2 Cor. 6.14-7.1 (v. 16: 'we are
a temple of God') see Klinzing, Umdeutung, pp. 172ff. This passage again points
to Qumran.
2. E. Lohse (Die Briefe an die Kolosser und Philemon [KEK, 15; 2nd edn,
1977], pp. 153-54) thinks that the talk of circumcision is due to the Colossian
'philosophy'. This, however, is doubted by E. Schweizer; see his discussion in Der
Brief an die Kolosser (EKKNT, 1976), pp. 109ff. Eph 2.1 Iff. explicitly combines
a spiritualized view of circumcision (v. 11) and of the temple (vv. 21-22).
3. Cf. Klinzing, Umdeutung, pp. 214ff.; U. Wilckens, Der Brief an die Romer
(EKKNT, 6.3; 1982), III, pp. 4ff.
4. E. Kasemann, An die Romer (HNT, 8a; 3rd edn, 1974), p. 317. Bultmann,
Theology, pp. 115-16, reckons the verse to the Hellenistic kerygma.
assumption seems to be that Paul appropriated these ideas without

Christian mediation from the Hellenistic synagogue.1 While this is
perfectly possible, it is interesting to note that Bultmann used these
verses, too, when speaking of the pre-Pauline Hellenistic kerygma.2
Bearing in mind that |xexdvoia (Rom. 2.4) is extremely rare in Paul
and that doing and the judgment according to works (Rom 2.5ff.) are
nowhere else given such a prominent place,3 it would be worthwhile
to examine whether Paul is not using to an exceptionally great extent
traditions shaped by the Hellenists precisely in Romans 2.
Finally, we can refer to 1 Cor. 5.6-8 where Paul gives an allegori-
cal and ethical interpretation of the removal of leaven at Passover
time. While the allegory put forward in v. 7a may be Paul's own
application, he surely cites tradition in v. 7b, where Christ is
identified as 'our Passover lamb'. 4 Verse 8 speaks of 'celebrating the
festival' in a purely ethical sense. The ethical interpretation of Jewish
customs is well in keeping with what we have found so far; we may
have here an indication that 'at Antioch, too, Gentile Christians did
not observe the Jewish sabbaths and annual feasts',5 which were talked
about in spiritualizing terms.
If Rom. 3.25 stems from Antioch, as I have surmised above, it
would not come as a surprise to find other comparable christological
interpretations of cultic acts in use there as well. An Antiochene
origin can at least be considered for 1 Cor. 5.7b.
The question certainly has to be asked about how well the ethical
and the christological interpretations of the Torah and the cult, both
of which we have hypothetically traced back to Antioch and the
Hellenists, hang together. Surely one may detect some tension between
them. This, however, is hardly a convincing reason to attribute the
views in question to different traditions. Even Paul can make use of
both sets of ideas and in the course of one and the same argument at
that (Rom. 2 is followed by Rom. 3.24-26). In fact, there is no great
1. See, e.g., Wilckens, Romer, I, pp. 134-35.

2. Bultmann, Theology, p. 118.
3. Bultmann mentions Rom. 2.5ff. as part of the Hellenistic kerygma
(Theology, p. 75). Sanders (Paul, p. 134 nn. 31-33) cites parallels from Philo to
several verses.
4. Bultmann (Theology, p. 85) lists even this in the preaching of the Hellenist
church.
5. Watson, Paul, p. 34.
tension at all, if Rom. 3.25 is taken to refer to the annihilation of sins

previously committed (see above).
The above considerations are offered here tentatively, as a working
hypothesis which has to be scrutinized. Various bits of evidence
adduced may well be of different value. If there is some truth to the
hypothesis, some of the self-contradictions to which I called attention
in Paul and the Law could be seen in a slightly different perspective.
The tensions remain, to be sure, but it may be easier to understand
(and to accept!) their existence, if some at least are due to Paul's
developing further some ideas of his own former community and not
wholly discarding those ideas either, but preserving them alongside
more novel ones.1
12. Traces of the Hellenists in the Synoptic Gospels?

James Dunn has recently attempted 'to fill out Hengel's claim2 (viz.,
that the Stephen group served as a bridge between Jesus and Paul)
from within the Jesus tradition itself'.3 He concludes that the collection
of conflict stories in Mk 2.15-3.6 is a pre-Pauline unit, collected by
the Hellenists.4 The tradition contained in this unit is very early; surely
it 'must have had some influence on the thinking and vision of these
unknown precursors of Paul'. It 'indicates the way the collectors were
thinking and explains how it was that the Hellenists could make such a
1. F.S. Jones ('Freiheif in den Briefen des Apostels Paulus: Eine historische,
exegetische und religionsgeschichtliche Studie [GTA, 34; 1987], esp. pp. 127-28)
wants to understand the tensions in Paul's thought on the law in connection with the
thought of Hellenist moralists who also took both a positive and a negative attitude to
the 'law'. But it does not remove tension from Paul's thought if others display a
comparable tension! However, with the Cynics and Stoics it is a question of a
devaluation of written human laws and an affirmation of the unwritten divine law (cf.
Jones himself, 'Freiheit', pp. 93 and 207 n. 156). Paul runs into problems precisely
because he shrinks from making such a distinction (Gal. 3.19 notwithstanding).
2. Ironically, Hengel himself takes a sceptical attitude to the existence of a pre-
Markan collection: 'Die angeblich "kritische" Forschung will hier einfach Dinge
wissen, die sie nicht beweisen kann' ('Probleme des Markusevangeliums', in
P. Stuhlmacher [ed.], Das Evangelium und die Evangelien [WUNT, 28; 1983],
p. 225).
3. J.D.G. Dunn, 'Mark 2.1-3.6: A Bridge between Jesus and Paul on the
Question of the Law', NTS 30 (1984), pp. 395-415 (p. 414 n. 5).
4. Dunn, 'Mark 2.1-3.6', pp. 409, 412.
radical departure from traditional Judaism in the name of Jesus'. 1 In

Dunn's opinion, 'without such an authorization from the Jesus-tradi-
tion it is difficult to see how such a departure gained the acceptance it
did within the earliest communities of Palestine'.2 But of course the
'departure' was not easily, let alone universally, accepted in Palestine!
As Hengel correctly points out, the Hellenists had to wait 'for more
than a decade' until their mission could be approved by the authorities
in Jerusalem.3 Acts tells of a quite different sort of authorization for
the 'new departure': visions, revelations, pneumatic experiences (Acts
10-11; 15). So does Paul, starting his 'new departure' with a vision of
the risen Lord. Once more we have to stress the significance of Paul's
silence about the Jesus tradition as regards his freedom from the law.4
Dunn realizes that Gentiles are not in view in Mk 2.15-17. How-
ever, it is hard for him to believe that the memory of Jesus' eating
with sinners played no role
in the earliest communities' wrestling with the equivalent situations of
their own day. .. Particularly in a situation where 'sinners' was more or
less synonymous with 'Gentiles'. . . , the pericope's applicability when
the issue of table-fellowship between Jewish and Gentile believers began
to emerge as an issue must have been obvious.5
This is not so obvious. In the first place, it is Jesus who rebuked in the
pericope, not his followers;6 secondly, if v. 17c denotes an absolute
contrast, this would mean, applied to the Gentile question, that
Gentiles alone were called by Jesus.7
Mk 2.18-22 could, in Dunn's view, 'serve to justify other departures
1. Dunn, 'Mark 2.1-3.6', p. 413.

2. Dunn, 'Mark 2.1-3.6', p. 413.
4. Dunn, 'Mark 2.1-3.6', p. 413 suggests two reasons for this: (1) the princi-
ples enshrined in the Jesus tradition 'were not entirely clear-cut'; and (2) it was
important for Paul 'to rest the primary authority on the revelation given him directly,
rather than on the tradition received from Peter and others'. But these explanations
tend to weaken the bridge Dunn is concerned about building.
5. Dunn, 'Mark 2.1-3.6', p. 404.
6. J. Kiilunen, Die Vollmacht im Widerstreit: Untersuchungen zum Werdegang
von Mk 2.1-3.6 (Acta Academiae Scientiarum Fennicae, Dissertationes Humanarum
Litterarum, 40; 1985), pp. 150-51.
7. Kiilunen, Vollmacht, p. 152.
from accepted tradition'.1 Again, 'it is hard to believe' that a tradition

such as Mk 2.23-28
did not influence attitudes as the Christian mission spread outwards;
on the contrary. ..it must surely have prepared the way for the
acceptability within Christian circles for just such a discounting of all holy
days as we find in Rom. 14.5.2
But all this makes the 'unit' unbelievably early. Dunn expresses
himself rather vaguely regarding chronology.3 But if the stories in
Mk 2.15-3.6 inspired the Hellenists in their pioneering efforts and if
they put the unit together, must not this have happened early on in the
thirties? Perhaps already in Jerusalem?
Yet the stories in question are composite formations, showing suc-
cessive traces of a longer development.4 In most of them there is no
law-critical substance at all.5 The one story clearly critical of the
(Sabbath) halakah, Mk 2.23-28, also has the most unrealistic air of all.
'Pharisees did not organize themselves into groups to spend their
Sabbaths in Galilean corn fields in the hope of catching someone
transgressing... ' 6 As the redundant introductory formula m i etayev
a\)ioi<; shows, the most 'critical' saying of all, 2.27, has been
appended later, quite possibly only by Mark himself,7 who also
probably created 2.28.8
1. But it is not clear that 2.19-20 refers originally to concrete fasting;

cf. Kiilunen, Vollmacht, p. 176, referring to R. Bultmann, Geschichte der
synoptischen Tradition (FRLANT, 12; 7th edn, 1967), pp. 182-83.
2. Dunn, 'Mark 2.1-3.6', pp. 407-408.
3. On p. 409 he speaks of 'a pre-Pauline stage' (likewise p. 412). Page 413
speaks of the life of 'those Hellenistic-Jewish-Christian communities which were
beginning to wrestle with questions of law and halakah for themselves'. While the latter
formulation suggests Antioch, the former would seem to point to a still earlier date.
4. See the thorough analyses of Kiilunen, Vollmacht.
5. Dunn's conclusion that in the traditions in question 'the attitude of Jesus to
the law is not so very different from that of Paul' ('Mark 2.1-3.6', p. 412) is facili-
tated by what seems to me a misinterpretation of Paul's view: Dunn thinks that what
Paul opposes is not the law as such, but only 'the law seen as a proof and badge of
Israel's election'—especially circumcision, food laws and Sabbath ('Mark 2.1-3.6',
p. 396). See above Chapter 5.
7. Thus Kiilunen, Vollmacht, p. 217.
8. Kiilunen, Vollmacht, p. 198; in 197 n. 8 he lists seven authors who
represent this view, including Perrin, Tuckett and Lindars.
Moreover, strong reasons have recently been advanced by

J. Kiilunen for the view that it was Mark himself who put together the
collection in 2.1-3.6.1
In view of the nature of the stories and of Paul's non-use of this sort
of material Dunn's case is not convincing. I would guess that these
stories, as well as most of the other Markan material, were handed on
by Palestinians who later left the country and joined the ranks of mis-
sionaries to the Gentiles. The outstanding figure among such people
was, of course, Peter. It is not for nothing that tradition connects the
second Gospel just with him, and with the 'Graeco-Palestinian' John
Mark. Outside of Palestine, the bearers of this Jesus tradition came
into contact with people engaged in the Gentile mission begun by the
Hellenists, including Pauline Christians as well. The possibility
remains that stories such as those preserved in Mk 2.1-3.6 later
played a part among groups influenced by the Hellenists when they got
better access to the Jesus tradition.
The same holds true of other Markan material, such as ch. 7 2 or the
materials connected with the temple (cf. 11.16-17 and the framing of
the temple incident with the story about the withering fig tree; 12.34;
14.58; 15.29; 15.38). The temple is viewed in Mark in a more clearly
critical light than in the speech of Stephen! The heritage of the
Hellenists in a radicalized form may be visible here. But we cannot
tell, on the basis of Mark, that Stephen already went this far. Further-
more, if this be a bridge, it is not so much a bridge between Jesus and
Paul (who was not concerned about the temple) as, say, between Jesus
and the letter of Barnabas.
Problems caused by the Hellenists are probably reflected in parts of
the Gospel of Matthew. But we don't know which Hellenists. Mt. 5.19
gives expression to the protest of more conservative believers against
the neglect of individual commandments of the law, but the target
could be Paul just as well as members of the Stephen group.3 Mt. 10.5
may preserve an early protest against the mission to Samaritans and
1. Kiilunen, Vollmacht^p. 249ff. andpassim. Mk3.6 is Markan (pp. 227-33).

2. Cited as evidence of the views of the Hellenists by Scroggs, * Christianity',
p. 178.
3. Cf. Bultmann, Theology, pp. 16, 54. H.D. Betz ('Die Makarismen der
Bergpredigt [Matthaus 5:3-12]: Beobachtungen zur literarischen Form und
theologischen Bedeutung', ZTK 75 [1978], pp. 3-19 [p. 5]) gives grounds for
thinking of polemics against Paul in 5.17-19.
Gentiles.1 If we are allowed to take these two statements together, they

could indicate a relaxation of law observance in connection with the
mission. This would fit with what we know from other sources. The
polemic against wonder-workers in 7.22 is hardly relevant here.2 It
comes from the Evangelist's pen, not from old tradition; what
Matthew opposes is false prophecy, not prophecy or charismatic
activity at large (cf. 10.1; 10.41).3
13. Conclusion
Examination of the Stephen materials leads one to assume that criti-
cism or threatening of the temple was the outstanding feature of his
preaching. Inferences from Paul's letters, on the other hand, point to
circumcision as a crucial issue.
Perhaps Stephen attacked the temple and this caused his martyrdom.
Later on the Hellenists who left Jerusalem because of the temple issue,
started a mission to the Gentiles, dropping the requirements of
circumcision and at least parts of the ritual Torah.
The other possibility is that both temple and circumcision were at
stake when Stephen died. The Hellenists carried on in other regions
what they had already practised even in Jerusalem.
Either way, the Hellenists do not seem to constitute a real bridge
1. E.g. Bultmann, Theology, p. 55. The verses contain a lot of Matthaean

features and are regarded as a creation by the Evangelist by Kasting (Anfdnge,
pp. 11 Off.) and R. Gundry (Matthew: A Commentary on his Literary and
Theological Art [1982], pp. 184-85). It would be strange, however, if the
Evangelist who introduced Mt. 28.18-20 would have created 10.5-6 without any
pressure from his tradition. It is intriguing to note that (f|) noXiq xfj<; £au.ape{a<;
occurs in Acts 8.5 and that 686<; plays a part in the other mission story about Philip
(Acts 8.26). O. Bauernfeind ('Die Apostelgeschichte', in Kommentar und Studien
zur Apostelgeschichte [WUNT, 22; 1980], p. 122) assumed that the stories turn
programmatically against Mt. 10.5, which he took to be a well-known word oi
Jesus. Cf. Hengel, Between, p. 112: 'Presumably Luke chose from a large numbei
of stories about Philip the two which contradicted Matt. 10.5'. But if there really is c
connection, is it not more natural to assume that it is the pre-Matthaean tradition tha
reacts against Philip traditions rather than vice versa? But perhaps it is just a questior
of a coincidence (at least as regards the 'way').
2. Contrary to Scroggs, 'Christianity', p. 177.
3. Cf. E. Schweizer, Das Evangelium nach Matthdus (NTD, 2; 1973)
pp.114-15.
between Jesus and Paul. The temple issue connects Jesus with Stephen
but not with Paul. If circumcision does connect Paul with Stephen,
that connection does not extend back to Jesus, who was not concerned
with the Gentile question.
The Hellenists' giving up of the requirement of circumcision in
connection with missionary work is probably to be seen as a conse-
quence of their spiritualized view of the Torah, largely shaped in the
diaspora. This predisposition along with the new sense of eschatologi-
cal fulfilment and the enthusiastic experience caused them to go
beyond Philo in their liberal attitude to outward observance of the
Torah. In their life, the 'ritual' part of the law became an adiaphoron.
This was a critical, indeed radical (from a traditional Jewish point of
view), but by no means a hostile, attitude to the law. On this founda-
tion Paul was to build his peculiar theology of the law. In part of his
correspondence he still seems to adhere to the Hellenist view:
1 Thessalonians shows how he could speak to Gentile Christians
without paying positive or negative attention to the question of law,
and Romans 2 may indicate how the question was handled in dialogue
with Jews or other Jewish Christians by some Hellenists. Paul's talk of
the abolition of the law and his assertions of its negative effects and
negative purpose are his own contribution to the topic.
If the attitude of the Hellenists toward circumcision can be
explained as being due to their Dispersion background, it is reasonable
to infer that spiritualizing thoughts already in existence influenced
Stephen's attitude to the temple when he became a Christian. Jesus'
eschatological threat to the temple may have combined in his thought
and preaching with Hellenistic critique of the sacrificial cult.
If such considerations are at all on the right track, we may conclude
that the Hellenists were indeed a bridge—but not between Jesus and
Paul! They were a bridge (1) between Jesus' apocalyptic proclamation
of a new temple and later writers critical of the temple cult as such
(Mark, Hebrews, Letter of Barnabas), and (2) between Hellenistic
Judaism of the Dispersion and the Palestinian Jesus movement. The
bridge soon divided into a network of related but different roads
leading to the religion of the Apostolic Father and the Apologetes,
while one of the smaller branches may have merged with the way of
the Gnostics.
Chapter 8
'RIGHTEOUSNESS BY WORKS': AN EARLY CATHOLIC DOCTRINE?

THOUGHTS ON 1 CLEMENT
Definitions of 'early Catholicism'1 tend to think in the first instance of

the place of church office, tradition or the sacraments in the writing
or period under discussion, and there are indeed good reasons for
this. But in addition, it is a very common view that those writings that
are often called 'early catholic' (whether this precise term is used or
not) are characterized by a particular soteriological viewpoint: the key
terms here are righteousness by works, justification by works, piety
through good deeds, religion of merit and the like. The Pauline
doctrine of sola gratia is obscured. According to Rudolf Bultmann,2
'by obedience to God's demands man can succesfully exert himself,
following the scriptures, in which 'the development towards the
ancient church' is presented
to fulfil the condition for attaining future salvation: do the good works on
the basis of which he will be acquitted in the judgment. .. Man is thrown
back upon his own strength, and nothing remains of the insight 'if anyone
is in Christ, he is a new creation* (2 Cor. 5.17).
This development is 'probably clearest in 1 Clem.'

The doctrine of 'righteousness by works' can even be cited as a
criterion for establishing which writings are to be regarded as 'early
catholic'. In his pointed contribution Siegfried Schulz enumerates no
1. The term 'early Catholicism' was contained in my brief for the conference
for Scandinavian New Testament scholars at which this lecture was delivered. I
had no wish to state a view on its viability; rather, I use it simply as a conventional
siglum. On this topic, see, e.g., U. Luz, 'Erwagungen zur Entstehung des
"Fmhkatholizismus"',ZAW 65 (1974), pp. 88-111; F. Hahn, 'Das Problem des
Friihkatholizismus', EvT 38 (1978), pp. 340-57.
2. Theology of the New Testament (trans. K. Grobel; 1955), II, pp. 200-201.
Bultmann does not use the term 'early catholic'.
fewer than fifteen characteristics of Early Catholicism. Right up in

second position—immediately following the extinction of imminent
eschatological expectation—we find
the misunderstanding, or lack of understanding, of the Pauline message of
justification and the theology of the cross: instead of the justification of the
ungodly, the justification and edification of the pious comes increasingly
to the fore.1
1 Clement, then, represents 'the self-justification of the pious on the

basis of achieved and meritorious virtues'; according to Clement 'the
pious earn their own salvation and their behaviour as a whole serves
to bring about their self-justification on the basis of virtuous works'. 2
For James, theology is 'basically legal piety, justification by works and
the doctrine of merit'.3 Hebrews presents 'in a typically early catholic
way the justification of the pious on the basis of works performed',4
and the Pastorals similarly require meritorious good works.5 The Paul
of the book of Acts teaches 'the typically early catholic righteousness
by works with a naive synergism'.6 The Gospels, too, are apparently
dominated by the early catholic doctrine of salvation. According to
Luke, there are 'certainly those who are just on the basis of their
meritorious works of the law, who have no need of repentance and
forgiveness'.7 The new law of Jesus according to Matthew aims 'at a
typically early catholic justification of the pious'. 8 Even in Mark's
Gospel 'everything points towards the justification of the pious on the
basis of their own fulfilment of the law'. 9 By comparison with Paul
Mark is 'a law book' with which 'early Catholicism in the New
Testament slowly but surely begins'.10
1. Die Mine der Schrift (1976), p. 80. Also K. Beyschlag (Clemens Romanus
und der Fruhkatholizismus [1966], p. 350) lists as one of the constituent parts of
early Catholicism 'the relative uncertainty in the christology and soteriology'. Cf. also
Hahn, 'Fruhkatholizismus', pp. 354-55.
2. Schulz, Die Mine, p. 322.
8. 'Righteousness by Works' 205
According to Schulz, then, 'justification by works' is a typical

characteristic of Early Catholicism. The NT, he believes, from the
Synoptic tradition onwards, is overflowing with such early catholic
statements. His criterion for what is not Early Catholicism is of course
Paul's doctrine of justification (as interpreted by Bultmann), which
according to Schulz represents 'early protestantism'(!).
Schulz has obviously assumed an extreme position here. A similar
tendency, however, is not unusual in a milder form in the exegetical
literature. But are such assessments of the soteriology of the second
and third Christian generations appropriate? In our discussion of this
question we shall focus on the document which, according to
Bultmann, shows most clearly the tendency to throw human beings
back up on their own strength: 1 Clement.
II
In his seminal study Adolf von Harnack characterized the religion of
1 Clement as Hellenistic late Judaism, which rejected anything that was
of purely national concern.1 When the religion of the OT was joined
in its Hellenistic-late Jewish stage of development by the moral ideal-
ism of Hellenism and by the fact of the Christ event, the result was the
'three-colour print' which represented the birth of Catholicism.2 On
this view, the soteriology of 1 Clement bore a strongly Jewish stamp:
the author was influenced by 'strictly monotheistic legalism and
redemption by obedience'.3 This assessment has set the tone for much
subsequent research.4
Now it is essential that serious account should be taken of the fact
that 1 Clement represents a very concrete paraenesis, the aim of which
was the restoration of unity and peace in the Corinthian congrega-
tion. 5 The author hopes to move the 'troublemakers' to act in a
1. Einfiihrung in die alte Kirchengeschichte: Das Schreiben der romischen Kirche

an die korinthische aus der Zeit Domitians (1. Clemensbrief) (1929), pp. 70-71.
2. Einfiihrung, pp. 85-86.
3. Einfiihrung, p. 71 n. 3. Von Harnack (pp. 53-63, 102-103) does, however,
paint an astonishingly positive picture of this 'legalism'.
4. Cf., e.g., T. Aono, Die Entwicklung des paulinischen Gerichtsgedankens bei
den apostolischen Vdtern (1979), p. 94; O. Knoch, Eigenart und Bedeutung der
Eschatologie im theologischen Aufriss des ersten Clemensbriefes (1964), p. 448.
5. This is emphasized by A. Lindemann (Paulus im altesten Christentum [1979],
pp. 198-99) and especially by O. Andren (Rdttfdrdighet ochfrid [I960]).
particular way. So it is clear from the outset that he has to appeal

strongly to the individual; the question of a person's behaviour has to
be in the forefront of the discussion. It is not the purpose of the letter
to instil faith in the readers. Clement is writing to Christians about the
Christian way of living in community and assumes the position of the
readers as members of the * chosen portion'. Of course the basis of the
author's 'soteriology' becomes evident even so; but the letter as a
whole has a strongly practical orientation. If, then, one endeavours to
read the letter as a whole from this perspective, it becomes clear how
strongly God's part in the change of direction is brought out, to which
Clement wants to point his readers. Let us take a brief look at some
characteristic texts.
In the liturgical conclusion to the letter (ch. 64), the desire is
expressed that God, who has chosen us as the people of his possession,
might give each soul that calls on his name the necessary virtues.1
Fundamental to this, therefore, is divine election; right living is seen
and prayed for as God's gift.
In 60.1-4, after a long doxology, there is a prayer that God will
straighten our steps so that we might walk in purity of heart and do
what pleases him; there is also prayer that God will light us with his
countenance 'for well-being (eiq dyaOd) in peace', so that we might
be protected from all sins by God's hand. The idea that it is God who
brings about a person's right walk is repeated frequently throughout
the letter. Thus in 38.2 the 'pure person' is warned against boasting,
because 'it is someone else who gives him his self-restraint'—the
creator, who prepared his good deeds even before our birth, so that
we must thank him for everything, because everything we have comes
from him (38.3-4).2 In 56.1 the congregation is exhorted to pray for
those who are guilty of a misdemeanour, 'that they may be given
meekness and humility'. It is God, too, who is able to restore someone
'to a holy walk in brotherly love' (48.1) or to guide the wayward in
1. According to Aono (Entwicklung, p. 83), the 'festive nature of the doxology'

reduces the argumentative force of 64.1.
2. According to Aono (Entwicklung, p. 85), the actually 'very remarkable
statement' at the end of 38.2 is disarmed by the beginning of the verse, where the
behaviour is emphasized as being decisive for salvation. But 38.2 is not dealing with
soteriology at all, but of the wellbeing of the body of the congregation (37.5-38.1):
the strong should take care of the weak, the weak respect the strong, the rich help the
poor, the poor thank God for the help. .. !
his people back onto the right path (59.4).

In 20.11-21.1 there is emphasis on the creator's good deeds towards
'us who have taken our refuge in his mercy' through Christ. From the
'indicative' of the good deeds the imperative is derived: watch that 'his
many blessings do not become our damnation if we do not walk
worthy of him and do in unity what is good and pleasing to him'. The
passage is strongly reminiscent of a number of Pauline passages. The
apostle called on the Thessalonians to 'walk worthy of God, who calls
you to his kingdom and his glory' (1 Thess. 2.12). The Corinthians,
again, were warned by him as by Clement: be careful that you do not
enjoy the Lord's Supper unworthily, for whoever does that 'eats and
drinks judgment to himself' (1 Cor. 11.29-31).
Irrespective of the seriousness of the imperative, the letter con-
stantly emphasizes the mercy of God towards those who turn to him.
The Father has pity on those who fear him, and gives graciously of his
blessings to those who come to him with singleness of heart (23.1-2).
We are to fear God and refrain from desires for evil deeds, so that
through his mercy we may be protected from the coming judgment
(28.1). This might give rise to the suspicion that Clement gives human
deeds priority as a condition for the divine mercy;1 but this is not a
missionary sermon but paraenesis. In what follows it is clearly stated
that a worthy life is founded on love for God, who 'has made us his
chosen portion' (29.1).2 The following paragraph shows quite clearly
how the indicative forms the basis of the imperative: 'Since, then, we
are a holy portion, let us do everything that belongs to reaching
holiness...' (30.1).
It is instructive to compare 1 Clem. 2.2 with a few Pauline passages.
'Rational moralism' has been seen in that passage.3 According to
Clement, in the past the Corinthians were given 'a deep and satisfying
peace and an inextinguishable longing for well-doing, and the Koly
Spirit was poured out in full measure upon all'. This does not mean
that the pouring out of the Spirit was taken as 'a reward for ethical
1. Thus, Aono, Entwicklung, p. 84: 'human activity' is probably presupposed

for the mercy of God.
2. Aono (Entwicklungy p. 83), too, admits that the divine election 'is viewed as
already having taken place' and indeed 'without presupposing righteous human
behaviour'; but in view of 30.3 the election in 29.1 also presupposes human upright-
ness. This is an erroneous assessment of 30.3; see below, p. 214.
3. R. Knopf, Die apostolischen Vdter (1920), I, p. 46.
behaviour', 1 but there is surely some connection between the worthy

life in peace and the full measure of the Spirit. But if one were to
evaluate this and criticize it as an anthropocentric feature, what should
one say to Paul's wish in 2 Cor. 13.11? There the apostle says:
'Rejoice, be put right, be exhorted, be of one mind, keep the peace, so
that (consequential KCC{) the God of love and peace will be with you'.
Similarly Phil. 4.8-9: the exhortation to think on all the virtues is
followed by the assurance that 'then the God of peace will be with
you'. Indeed Hans Windisch has described the wish in 2. Cor. 13.11 as
'Jewish and Pelagian' (as distinct from the 'Augustinian' sentiment in
2 Thess. 3.16).2 Both of these may be right if the adjectives are not
taken in a negative sense.3 Whether or not it is Pelagian, the notion
that God 'only dwells with those who work love and peace does not
necessarily include the concept of merit'.4 The same applies also to the
passage in Clement. Both Paul and Clement can emphasize that every-
thing comes from God; both can also emphasize that the behaviour of
the community is important if it wants to receive God's blessing.
In 34.4 Clement writes: 'So he exhorts us who believe in him with
all our heart, not to be lazy and slack to do any good works'. In this
instance, too, he has been accused of linking faith with works.5 Once
again it is instructive to look at the context. In the preceding passage
Clement has emphasized that we must be willing to do good so that we
can look our employer in the eyes when he gives us our bread, for
everything comes from him (34.1-3). Incidentally, the word 'reward',
cited from the OT in 34.3, is the only instance of the word in
Clement! He does not, however, stress that we should work in order
to be rewarded.6 His point is that because our reward (bread) comes
from the Lord, we should be good workers (and not lazy), so that we
have no need to be ashamed when we are paid. We hear not a syllable
concerning the amassing of merits or anything like that.
1. Thus Knopf, Die apostolischen Water, p. 46.

2. H. Windisch, Der zweite Korintherbrief (9th edn, 1924), pp. 426-27.
3. The negative sense is, it is true, assumed by Windisch. It would need investi-
gating, whether Pelagianism can be justifiably written off as justification by works.
Such a characterization would not, in any case, be fair to Judaism; see below,
pp. 217-18.
4. R. Bultmann, Der zweite Brief an die Korinther (1976), pp. 252-53.
5. Thus, Knopf, Die apostolischen Va'ter, p. 102.
6. Against Schulz, Die Mine, p. 320.
Chapters 35-36 speak of God's gifts in the present tense as well as

in the future. One must still make an effort in order to be able to
share in these wonderful gifts of salvation (35.4); the long paraenesis
in 35.5 shows how this will be possible. But does this demand, which
emphasizes a person's own efforts, perhaps neutralize the statement in
35.1-2, formulated in the indicative, concerning the beauty of the gifts
of salvation which we are able to grasp with our understanding?1 In
36.1, at any rate, it says that salvation was already 'found' in Jesus
Christ: Christ is called 'the high priest of our sacrifice' and 'the pro-
tector and helper in our weakness'; through him the eyes of our hearts
are opened, our darkened mind perceives something of his light,
through him the Lord let us 'taste the immortal knowledge', and so
forth (36.2). Jesus is both the way to salvation and the mediator of
salvation. His significance is seen above all from an intellectual point
of view: through him true gnosis came. But the initiative lies clearly
on God's side. So the imperative, in this case also, is based on the
indicative: one must take care to remain among the elect. On no
account should one lose sight of the fact that in chs. 35-36 we have a
warning to the Corinthian church to 'seek what is well-pleasing and
pleasant to God' (35.5) by submitting to the authority represented by
Clement.
The situation in 58.2 is similar—in a passage cited as an example of
the 'rationalization of the ethos' which makes room for 'the notion of
achievement, the schema of retribution and the doctrine of merit'. 2
The passage states that whoever 'keeps God's laws and commandments
humbly and with enduring meekness will be ranged with and reckoned
in the number of those who are saved through Jesus Christ'. There
follows a doxology to Christ. It is expressly stated, then, that salvation
comes through Christ. To be sure, one must stay among the elect by
keeping the commandments. All this is said directly to the 'instigators
of the dissension' (57.1), in order to bring about a change of direction
1. Thus Aono, Entwicklung, pp. 64-65.

2. E. Wolf, 'Gesetz und Evangelium', RGG (3rd edn), II, col. 1520.
Similarly, Aono, Entwicklung, p. 83: 'Right human behaviour and the fulfilment of
the commandments of God' are 'clearly the precondition for election'. L. Lemme
('Das Judenchristenthum in der Urkirche und der Brief des Clemens Romanus',
Neue Jahrbiicher fur deutsche Theologie 1 [1892], p. 437) went further than this:
'The moralistic self-assuredness here feels strong enough, supported by the always
ready action of God (33.1; 30.3), to take salvation down itself from heaven to earth'.
in them. 1 Clem. 57.2 and 58.1 show that this is paraenesis—a

warning that one should not be thrown out of salvation (eKpi(pf]vai he
TTK iXnidoc, [57.2])!
A central concept for Clement is repentance. In 8.5 we read (after a
long series of OT quotations): 'Because he desires that all his loved
ones should share in repentance, he confirmed this according to his
almighty will'. In 9.1 the consequence is drawn: 'Let us therefore be
obedient to his superior and marvellous will, begging his mercy and
his goodness throw ourselves down and commit ourselves to his pity',
but desist from envy, which leads to death. It is God's will that people
should repent; when a person turns to God, he does so out of obedi-
ence towards the merciful one. So in this case, too, the exhortation to
bring about peace in Corinth is formulated in a quite theocentric way.
We shall attend later to the statement concerning repentance in 7.4-5.
In chs. 49-50 Clement exhorts the church to act in love, and as the
basis for this exhortation he points to the love of God. 'Whoever loves
Christ should keep Christ's commandments' (49.1). In this context
also, his exposition has been criticized for its theology,1 not least
because in 50.5 he concludes his exhortation with the sentence: 'so that
our sins might be forgiven through love'. If one takes an overall view
of the whole context, it becomes clear that the divine initiative is again
emphasized strongly. 'The Lord has accepted us in love'; through his
love for us the Lord Jesus Christ gave himself up for us (49.6).
According to 50.2, love is something in which one can be 'discovered'
(ei)p£6fjvcci), though only if one is judged worthy by God. Being dis-
covered in love is dependent on divine election.2 Clement continues:
'Let us therefore beg his mercy and ask that we may be dis-
covered. ..in love' (50.2). Those who are made perfect in love have
their home among the righteous through God's grace (50.3). We are
blessed, if we keep God's commandments in harmonious love, so that
our sins are forgiven through love (50.5); a quotation from Psalm 32
follows. Finally Clement remarks that the praise expressed in the
psalm has been made of those who 'were chosen by God through Jesus
Christ our Lord' (50.7). A person's exercise of love and divine elec-
tion as the basis that makes this possible are inseparably linked in this
passage. The natural understanding of their relationship is as follows,
in Andren's words:
1. Aono, Entwicklung, pp. 94, 69-71.

2. Andren, Rdttfdrdighet, p. 179.
Through Christ God has accepted Christians in his Agape, and in this
Agape there is forgiveness for them, but when they sin against the Agape
they lose the forgiveness. They must therefore keep God's rules in order
to participate in forgiveness. Obedience, then, is presented as a condition
for forgiveness, but this does not mean that forgiveness would be
regarded as a reward for obedience and Agape.1
It is very much in the spirit of the whole passage that ch. 50 ends with
a doxology.
The overall impression from the texts dealt with so far is that
everything rests on the goodness, mercy and election of the Creator,
which have benefited the 'chosen portion' through Jesus Christ. (For
what this means in concrete terms, see below). Since God has acted in
this way, it is people's duty to do his will in obedience. There is thus a
strong emphasis on morality, but there is little sign of 'moralism' and
none at all of casuistry and the like; it is completely misleading to
speak in this context of such things as anthropocentric piety or the
decisive soteriological significance of meritorious works.
Ill
Some passages of central importance have not yet been discussed. We
now turn to the famous passage of chs. 32-33. At the end of the
depiction of some OT figures Clement writes,
All were honoured and glorified not by themselves or their works or by
the righteous deeds (8iKaiO7cpay{a) which they performed, but by his
will. And now we too, who are called through his will in Christ, do not
become righteous (8iKaio-6|Lie8a) through ourselves, nor through our
wisdom or insight or piety or through the works we have performed in
purity of heart, but through faith (5icc xfjq nioxmc,), through which
Almighty God has justified (eSiicoucoaev) everyone from eternity'
(32.3-4).
Here we have a clear Pauline echo, which serves emphatically to

dispute the significance of personal works and wisdom, which has
been the cause of some confusion among scholars.2 But one is quickly
1. Andren, RdttfdrdigheU p. 187.

2. Cf. von Harnack, Einfuhrung, p. 112: 'This repetition of paulinism comes as
a surprise'; Aono, Entwicklung, p. 86: 'curious'; Schulz, Die Mine, p. 320. Lemme
('Judenchristenthum', p. 427) could see in the expression 'nothing but an empty
phrase'. On the other hand, L. Sanders (UHellenisme de Saint Climent de Rome et
returned to the agenda by the observation that niaxxc, means something

different in Clement from what it means in Paul,1 and that in any case
in the context the significance of works is emphasized, especially in
30.3 and 33.7-8.2
To begin with the latter argument: at the beginning of ch. 33
Clement imitates the Pauline diatribe style. Should the exclusion of
works mean that we stop doing good and exercising love? 'May the
Lord never let this happen in us, but let us hurry to complete every
good work with endurance and willingness' (33.1).3 The justification
that follows this does not seem particularly legalistic either: 'For the
Creator and Lord of the Universe himself rejoices in his works'
(33.2). After a description of the works of creation the works of God
and those of humans are again compared: the righteous adorn them-
selves with good works; the Lord himself adorned himself with good
works and rejoiced. 'Since we have this example, let us without hesi-
tation carry out his will and with all our strength practise the work of
righteousness (epyaacoiieGa epyov 5iKaioawT|q)' (33.7-8).
The notion that justification through faith should lead to works of
love is of course fully compatible with the theology of Paul. On the
other hand it sounds un-Pauline to call the worthy life epyov
8iicaioai>vT|<;. Clement follows normal Jewish usage, in which
terminology of 'justification' is used in an ethical sense4 (a usage that
is not foreign to Paul, even if not so characteristic5). Here Clement
is following, above all, the great traditions of wisdom, where
'everything, including salvation, is the gift of God, the Father and
le Paulinisme [1943], pp. 151-58) suggests with rather naive confidence that
Clement shows himself to be an 'opponent of Pharisaism' (p. 151) and 'truly
Pauline' (p. 158)—because he appeals to the authority of Paul (47.1)!
1. Von Harnack, Einfuhrung, p. 112; Aono, Entwicklung, p. 81; Knoch,
Eigenart,p. 231.
2. Aono, Entwicklung, p. 80; Knopf, Die apostolischen Water, p. 98; Knoch,
Eigenart, p. 231 (with reference to 33.1).
3. Knopf (Die apostolischen Va'ter, p. 98) thinks that 'alongside the formula of
solafideism taken over from Paul' there appears 'synergism'! Cf. Schulz, Die Mitte,
p. 320.
4. For Jewish usage, see E.P. Sanders, Paul and Palestinian Judaism (1977),
e.g. pp. 205, 506, 544. So in 33.8 Clement is not wanting to speak of those works
'which produce righteousness'; thus Lemme, 'Judenchristenthum', p. 438.
5. Cf. Rom. 6.13, 16; 14.17; 2 Cor. 9.10; Phil. 1.7, 11; 4.8; 1 Thess. 2.10.
A. Toivanen, Diakosyne-sanue Paavalin kielenkdytossd (1975), pp. 167-76.
Creator'. 1 In the text under consideration there is more emphasis on

the exemplary aspect of God's goodness than on this goodness as
'indicative'; but the two aspects are not mutually exclusive, and the
indicative was brought out in the preceding text. One should not
forget that Paul too presents God as an example when he says that
Christians should walk 'worthy of God' (1 Thess. 2.12), quite apart
from the words of Jesus, 'Be merciful, even as your Father is
merciful' (Lk. 6.36; cf. Mt. 5.48). We may also mention at this point
the beautiful passage 1 Clem. 16.17: the Corinthians are to consider
the example of Christ on the basis of Isaiah 53. 'For if the Lord was
so humble, what should we then do, we who were led through him
under the yoke of his graceV2
It has often been noticed that 33.1 follows on from the preceding
text rather like Rom. 6.1 follows Rom. 5.20-21.3 When in Romans 6
Paul removes all misunderstandings and points out emphatically that
sin and the Christian life are irreconcilable (at which point he has
specific transgressions in mind), he even says that being a servant
under obedience leads to righteousness (eiq 8iKcuocn)vr|v) (Rom.
6.16). It is difficult to discern any material difference in principle
between Rom. 6.12-16 and Clement's admonition to nav epyov
ccyaOov—an expression which, incidentally, also occurs in 2 Cor. 9.8.
If all Pauline statements were measured with equally strict yardsticks
as those used on poor Clement's, we should read much more often of
the apostle's latent, or not quite subdued, synergism or the like.4
While considering 32.3-4, we need to look back at ch. 30, for many
exegetes are of the opinion that in 30.3 Clement is teaching justifica-
tion through works, which is the only thing that casts appropriate light
on the statements of ch. 32.5 Clement writes: 'Let us attract harmony,
be humble and self-restrained, staying clear of all blasphemy and
slander, so that we are justified by works and not by words' (epyoiq
8iKaiot)|xevoi m i \n\ Aayois). Here, however, the opposite to 'works'
1. A. Jaubert, Clement de Rome (1971), p. 64.

2. Again, according to Aono {Entwicklung, p. 45), 'human efforts are empha-
sized'. The phrase 'the yoke of grace' indicates 'clearly the connection between the
grace of God and human achievement'.
3. E.g. Knopf, Die apostolischen Vdter, p. 98; Lindemann, Paulus, p. 186.
4. Cf., however, Windisch's remark (Der zweite Korintherbrief, pp. 426-27),
cited above, p. 208.
5. See above, p. 212 n. 2.
is not 'faith' but 'words'. If one takes such a statement as an expres-

sion of a doctrine of 'justification by works', one is guilty of a primi-
tive semantic misinterpretation. The verb 8iKaio$c0ai is used here in
an ethical sense;1 for the opposition between 'words' and 'works' one
might cite 1 Jn 3.18: 'Let us not love with words or with lips, but in
deed (epycp) and truth'.2 The same idea is expressed by Clement in
38.2: 'The wise man should not expose his wisdom through words, but
in good works (|rn ev XoyoiQ, aXk* ev epyoic; ayocGoic;)'. It is a matter
of one's showing oneself to be a real Christian.31 Clem. 30.7 shows
that epyoig 8iKocio\>|ievoi in 30.3 indicates that one 'gets note from
others through works', while Xoyoiq shows that one 'gains note from
oneself by words'. 4 It is worth again remembering that the
Corinthians 'did not need to be taught how to attain the state of
righteousness', rather they needed 'a reminder of how they should
prove that they are living in this new existence'.5 Paraenesis is again
the main thing.
This is also true of ch. 32. In 32.3-4, the primary emphasis seems
indeed to lie on the words 'not through ourselves'; the thought of
humility is in the foreground.6 It is no coincidence that the statement
is reminiscent of 1 Corinthians 1, where human wisdom is given a low
evaluation, so that no flesh would be able to boast before God (vv. 19,
29). Paul already formulated such statements with reference to con-
crete problems of the church in Corinth. Evidently some members
had fallen in love with Apollos's Alexandrian wisdom and had thus
vaunted themselves over people (cf. 1 Cor. 3.21 and its context).
Clement's situation is similar: the soteriological language taken over
from the Pauline letters is used in the service of concrete paraenesis.
We now come to a discussion of the other argument with which the
'Pauline' statement in 32.3-4 was 'neutralized'.7 There is no doubt that
does not mean the same thing for Clement as it does for Paul.
1. Correctly Lindemann, Paulus, p. 195.

2. Cf. also Lk. 6.46 par.; 2 Cor. 10.11; Tit. 1.16.
3. Andren, Rdttfdrdighet, p. 105.
6. W. Wrede, Untersuchungen zwn ersten Klemensbriefe (1891), pp. 84-85
n. 3; cf. Andren, Rdttfdrdighet, pp. 74, 77. The whole context accentuates the
thought of humility.
7. Cf. above, p. 212 n. 2.
'Faith', for Clement, means 'the unconditional "trust" in God which

people of all ages have exercised'.1 From eternity God has justified all
people in the same way. What is eschatologically new is placed in the
background. Clement's 'soteriology' is completely theocentric, and the
actual role ascribed to Christ remains rather unclear (though Clement
strongly emphasizes the fact that salvation has come through Christ).2
Accordingly, 7.5 says that God 'gave those who wanted to turn to
him, from generation to generation, opportunity for repentance'; here
Clement is alluding to Noah's generation and to the Ninevites. It is
evident that Christ could be completely removed from Clement's
theology without any change to its basic structure.
The correct observation that in Clement Christ's role is not, in point
of fact, of prime importance, has led a number of exegetes to the
conclusion that Clement's position is therefore also in favour of an
anthropocentric piety through works.3 But there is an important non
sequitur in this line of reasoning. Two things must be distinguished at
all costs: (1) the significance ascribed to Christ, and (2) the role given
to human works and achievements. The answer to one of these ques-
tions cannot automatically be deduced from the answer to the other. It
is simply not viable to assume that any theology that does not have the
work of Christ at its centre must necessarily represent legalism, piety
through merit and so forth—whether the subject is OT religion,
Judaism or even, for example, Indian Bhakti piety.
The beginnings of a relativization of the unique significance of the
death and resurrection of Christ are in fact found already in Paul him-
self. The apostle presents Abraham as an example of justificatory
faith; in addition, he indicates that Christ was already present with the
1. Lindemann, Paulus, p. 186. Unconditional trust in God cannot simply be

equated with 'theoretical credulousness' (so Knoch, Eigenart, p. 231).
2. Thus von Harnack (Einfuhrung, p. 108) remarks that Christ is 'stripped of
any special significance', 'except perhaps that conversion has now become more
universal' (cf. pp. 78-79). Bultmann (Theology, p. 188) thinks that the possibility of
repentance, which was in fact always in existence, has 'become actual to the present
by the death of Christ'. Aono (Entwicklung, pp. 96-97) suspects that Christ makes
human uprightness possible. Perhaps Bultmann's understanding is the most likely.
3. This is Bultmann's argument; he justifies the statement concerning 1 Clement
cited at the beginning of this article (p. 203 n. 2) with the sentence: 'whereby for
him (1 Clem.) the difference between Christians and the pious men of the Old
Testament disappears' (Theology, p. 201); similarly, Knoch (Eigenart, p. 271).
patriarchs, bringing salvation in the wilderness.1 Clement of course

has gone much further than this. But is it inappropriate to strive for
consistency where another is content with scattered pieces of contra-
dictory information? It is only natural when reading Paul to wonder
why Abraham was supposed to be a unique exception. If it was
possible for him to have 'faith' in the 'Christian' sense, why should it
not have been possible for Noah, Moses, David or other pious figures
of ages past? Clement's soteriological dilemma does indeed point to a
problem with which all Christian theology must wrestle: logically
speaking it is not at all easy to emphasize what is eschatologically
unique in the Christ-event while at the same time appropriating the
OT and stressing the continuity with God's actions described there. Is
it not Paul himself who unwittingly lays the foundation stone for a
relativization of Christ's work of salvation when he takes up the figure
of Abraham? This problem, which I cannot go into further at this
point, is an intellectual problem in the sphere of how we conceive of
salvation history; it has no necessary connection with anthropocentric
piety and the like at all.
The fact that Clement's portrait of Abraham is different from
Paul's needs no special emphasis. Clement stresses Abraham's obedi-
ence (10.1, 7) and also his hospitality (10.7); Abraham received God's
blessing because he 'did righteousness and truth through faith'
(8iKaioa\)VT|v KCCI dA.f|9eiav 8ia Tiiaxeco^ Tcoiriaaq, 31.2). In such
passages as this some have of course found cause to speak of faith as
an achievement and as a condition of salvation.2 But here too Clement
is speaking paraenetically of Abraham's obedience, because he wants
to move the Corinthians towards obedience. He uses the term
SIKOCIOCWTI in the ethical sense, not the soteriological sense. In so
doing, he takes over the current Jewish and early Christian picture of
Abraham, from which Paul distances himself; the Bible is interpreted
more realistically by him than by Paul, who plucks Abraham out of
his OT context and tacitly understands Abraham's 'faith' as faith in
Christ.3
One wonders, also, whether Clement, in order to survive before the
judgment seat of modern theology, would have had to declare the
1. Cf. also Aono, Entwicklung, pp. 81-82.

2. Schulz, Die Mine, with reference to 10.7 and 12.1 (the rescue of Rahab the
prostitute).
3. On this, cf. W. Mundle, Der Glaubensbegriff des Paulus (1932), pp. 96ff.
Ninevites to be incorrigible legalists because they—through an act of

will, indeed—repented as a result of Jonah's preaching. (What a pity
that even Jesus made use of this example!) Would Clement have had to
condemn past generations because they repented, or even preachers of
repentance because their proclamation demanded a human attitude or
a decision of the will? Clement, though—quite rightly in line with the
OT and early Christian tradition—regards repentance as 'grace' (7.5).
Clement has also been criticized for speaking of an 'opportunity for
repentance' (TOTCOC; u.exavo(a^, 7.4): this emphasizes the human act of
will.1 It is indeed impossible to exclude all human participation from
repentance. But if one wants to remove any kind of human act of will,
there remains nothing but the notion of absolute double predestina-
tion—a path that not even Paul takes.
As is well known, Paul has very little to say about jxexdvoia.
Where he does so, he says to the Corinthians exactly as Clement does
(this time too in the context of a concrete admonition): 'For sorrow,
as God wants it to be, effects repentance unto salvation (jxexdvoia eiq
ao)TT|p{av)', while neglect of repentance can lead to death.2 There is
no need to draw attention again to the place of repentance in the
proclamation of Jesus.
IV
In view of all this, one can subscribe to von Harnack's view that
Clement's understanding of the relationship of God to humans is
basically Jewish. This does not, however, mean that salvation is earned
'through obedience'. 3 Both Clement and normal Judaism present
obedience as the human response to the goodness which God has
shown to humanity.
Gradually Christian exegesis is beginning to learn that Judaism
neither represented nor represents an anthropocentric piety through
merit (though of course there were and are excesses, on the Christian
side as well as the Jewish). Rather, what was characteristic was the
requirement of absolute obedience, which represented the human
answer to a divine initiative. One kept the law not primarily to collect
1. Knoch, Eigenart, pp. 266-67.

2. The word acoxripla is used here 'in the definitively eschatological sense'
(Bultmann, Der zweite Korintherbrief, p. 60).
3. See above p. 205 n. 5.
merit, but because it expressed the holy will of God. One was pleased
to accept God's direction gratefully. The terminology of 'righteous-
ness' is used in the ethical sphere: one should show oneself to be
righteous in one's behaviour (but one seeks no justification, in the
Pauline sense, in the law).1 Salvation (i.e. one's share in the age to
come) does not depend on one's righteousness, but on one's divine
election, or more generally on God's gracious dealings with a person,
irrespective of whether one derived this priority of God's from the
covenant or from the idea of creation.2 People whom God has
graciously accepted must show themselves to be 'righteous'; on the
other hand, one cannot obtain salvation for oneself by doing more
good works than bad works. 'Righteousness', ethical righteousness, is
a necessary but not sufficient condition for obtaining the eschatologi-
cal salvation of the future.3 All this should really have been clear at
least since G.F. Moore; it has now at last sunk into our consciousness
thanks to the work of Meinrad Limbeck, E.P. Sanders and many
others.4
In fact Paul's theology does not deviate from common Jewish
theology such as Clement's to the extent that one might at first expect.
In general the basic structure is the same in both (indicative-impera-
tive). In Paul God's work of salvation in Christ is fundamental and is
very strongly emphasized. But it is also necessary for a person to walk
uprightly in good works. Judgment will be decided according to
works (Rom. 2.13; 2 Cor. 5.10). One must 'work towards one's
salvation' in fear and trembling, even though, or rather precisely
because, it is God who brings everything about (Phil. 2.12-13). Paul
impresses upon the Corinthians that the unrighteous will not inherit
the kingdom of God (1 Cor. 6.9-10). One can imagine, too, the
indignation with which Clement would have been treated by the
exegetes if he had written the following lines:
1. E.P. Sanders, Paul (p. 212 n. 5 above); RJ.Z. Werblowsky, Tora als
Gnade', Kairos 14 (1972), p. 159.
2. For the former, see E.P. Sanders, Paul; for the latter see M. Limbeck, Die
Ordnung des Heils (1971).
3. B. Przybylski, Righteousness in Matthew and his World of Thought (1980),
pp. 51, 52.
4. G.F. Moore, Judaism (3 vols.; 1927-30); Sanders, Paul; Limbeck, Ordnung.
Let each test his own work, and then he will have honour only in respect
of himself. .. Be not deceived! God is not mocked. For whatever a per-
son sows, that is what he will reap. .. But let us not be weary in doing
good, for at the right time we shall harvest, if we do not slacken. So let
us, when we have opportunity, complete what is good. .. (Gal. 6.4-10).
Alongside the indisputable language of work, honour, reward and
doing good, then, there appears even the idea of 'opportunity'
(Kccipoq) which a person must use.
In 1 Corinthians 10 Paul emphasizes that baptism does not automati-
cally guarantee salvation. God, who did not spare the fathers in the
desert, will not spare Christians either, if they fall into idolatry.
'Therefore, let him who thinks he stands, take heed lest he fall!'
(v. 12).
On the basis of material such as this, it might be claimed that Paul—
although he generally leaves the imperative based in the indicative—
basically teaches that salvation presupposes just works on the part of
the individual. But such a claim would scarcely do justice to Paul,
unless one were to judge him from a strictly predestinationist point of
view. But similar claims are just as unfair to contemporary Judaism
or 1 Clementl The statement that 'on this point Paul is a perfect
example of the view which is characteristic of first-century Judaism' is
correct.1 The difference consists in the determining of the 'indicative'
that motivates the imperative. While in Judaism the indicative consists
either in God's covenantal faithfulness or in the merciful attitude of
the creator to his creations (the latter is found in Clement also), for
Paul the decisive thing is God's eschatological work of salvation in
Christ. People find different ways into the community of the elect, but
stay there in more or less the same way in both Judaism and Paul.2
Despite the common basic structure there are of course other
notable and well-known differences between Clement and Paul.
Clement does not play off faith and works against each other. Nor
does he speak of sin as a demonic power under whose domination the
law would enslave human beings,3 and does not see the question of the
law as a problem at all (the word v6|io£ is not found once in the long
1. E.P. Sanders, Paul, the Law, and the Jewish People (1983), p. 106.
2. Andre*n (Rdttfdrdighet, p. 154) states quite correctly: 'Both in 1 Clement and
in Paul, then, good deedsflowfrom obedience to God's will. .. '
3. This is one of the reasons why Schulz (Die Mine, p. 319) criticizes him;
cf. Knoch, Eigenart, p. 304.
letter!) But it is exactly in those two first-mentioned points that Paul

stands on his own in early Christianity. Only he construes a contrast
between faith and works; only he makes a connection between the law
and the power of sin.1 It is worth asking the question whether it is
Paul who provides problematic answers rather than everyone else. I
have pursued such questions elsewhere and here I must be content
with only the briefest of comments.2 Interestingly, Paul himself also
makes statements which contradict the notion of an inescapable power
of sin (in particular Rom. 2-3, esp. 2.14-15), which thus has the
appearance of a polemical hyperbole. The apostle appears to be reject-
ing the 'works of the law' primarily because they endangered the
ability of the Gentiles to join the people of God; the conflict seems to
have centred originally on circumcision and various food laws. The
negative statements about the law are to be understood as radicaliza-
tions emanating from a situation of conflict. If this is correct, there is
a problem in using such one-off, context-bound sayings as timeless
norms against which to compare Clement and others. But even if the
reconstruction is not correct, caution is called for: the ideas in
question may be idiosyncrasies of Paul that were not shared with any-
one else in early Christianity.
I should like briefly to return to Bultmann, whose remarks on

1 Clement were my point of departure. Bultmann indeed agreed 'that
for the author indicative and imperative form a unity', which is
expressed in 30.1. This unity is, in fact, 'the same as in Judaism, to the
extent that with its consciousness of being the chosen, holy people of
God it also connects knowledge about the responsibility and duty of
holy behaviour'.3 Missing in Clement, however, is the 'eschatological
tension', 4 'the paradoxical unity of future and present' 5 and the
1. Cf. H. Raisanen, Paul and the Law (1983), pp. 154ff., 191ff., 203ff.
2. In addition to Paul and the Law see 'Paul's Theological Difficulties with the
Law', in E.A. Livingstone (ed.), Studia Biblica 1978, III (JSNTSup, 3; 1980),
pp. 301-20; 'Legalism and Salvation by the Law', in S. Pedersen (ed.), Die
Paulinische Literatur und Theologie: Skandinavische Beitrdge (Teologiske Studier, 7;
1980), pp. 63-83.
3. Theology, p. 189.
Pauline conviction that everything has become new,1 and this is the
reason for Bultmann's harsh criticism of him. It is, however, slightly
puzzling that Bultmann reproaches Clement for the disappearance of
eschatological tension; did not Bultmann in his own theology in a
much more radical way eliminate concrete eschatological expectation
(something that cannot be obscured by the play on the word
'eschatology' and talk of 'eschatological existence')? Now I have no
wish to blame either Bultmann or Clement on this point; it was simply
impossible to hold onto imminent expectation. Giving up imminent
expectation demonstrates a realistic attitude to reality—both in
Clement and for Bultmann. One wonders again how much point there
really is in making a time-bound idea of Paul (which in this case he
certainly did share with others) the universal remedy. 2 De-
eschatologization was an intellectual necessity for which Clement
should only be praised (even if one might still wonder whether it was
good that the Utopian impulses of early Christianity were largely lost
as a result).
A firm result of this enquiry is that Clement's 'Jewish' theology
2. Knoch, especially, must face up to this question. He criticizes Clement
because
the connection between imminent expectation and Christian behaviour is not directly
developed but has only indirect significance.
While in the New Testament imminent expectation supported and enlivened
eschatological faith and first gave it its power to change, here belief in the eschato-
logical punishment must support imminent expectation. . .
So imminent expectation is 'no longer the dominating motive of life in an already past
world' (Eigenart, pp. 221-22). Since imminent expectation has no direct significance
for ethics, 'the Christian understanding of the new eschatological existence in Christ
is replaced by the Old Testament understanding of walking in the fear of God' and
imminent expectation is thus 'made serviceable for the moralistic (!) imminent
expectation in the Old Testament/Hellenistic sense' (Eigenart, p. 228) (as if the OT
life-style were eo ipso 'moralistic'!) Here Clement is criticized (on innumerable
pages) because after the passage of two generations he no longer held fast romanti-
cally to a traditional notion that in the changed situation he could do nothing with.
Would the alternative solution of the contemporary apocalyptist John have been more
suitable? In Clement's time the idea that one lived in a fundamentally altered aeon
would have been pious self-deception. It is not clear to me how Knoch's thorough-
going critique of Clementfitsin with his concluding remarks ('imminent expectation
did not form the central content of early Christian faith' [Eigenart, p. 457]).
does not represent any 'righteousness through works'. Presumably

Clement represents the typical thinking of those 'God-fearers' who
became Christians after they had long been under Jewish influence and
lived in close contact with the Hellenistic synagogue.1 They had made
the moral values of Judaism as well as biblical history their own, but
the 'ritual law' and halakhah had remained largely foreign to them.2
Under these circumstances, for them the Christian message meant that
they could freely join the religion they had long held to be the right
one, but without acknowledging all its external forms. In Christianity
this religion had taken on a universalistic shape. I find it hard, though,
to imagine Clement as a born Jew; there are no signs of a liberation
struggle or of a rationalization of the 'apostasy' that we find in Paul.
So I have not found much that could be blamed on Clement. But one
thing should not be glossed over. In Clement, the author's own
cause—the cause of Rome—is invariably identified with the cause of
God. Reasoned argument on this point is completely lacking. He does
not go into the reasons for the removal of the presbyters, other than
the general judgment that it was due to 'envy'. Obedience towards
God is obedience towards Clement or Rome. Opponents are dealt with
very harshly with the aid of biblical quotations (e.g. chs. 15; 57). So
the paraenesis that is based in such a superior way on the indicative of
the mercy of God means, in the last analysis, an eloquent claim for the
subordination of the Corinthians to the power of Rome. It is this that
seems such a problem and so unpalatable in Clement. But if there is a
'fault' here, it does not lie in Clement's theology, but in its application.
VI
If this interpretation of Clement is on the right track, the same consid-
erations could also be applied to other writings that are suspected of
'righteousness through works'. To conclude, I would like to discuss
briefly Schulz's interpretation of Matthew.
According to Schulz, 8iicaioa\>VT| in Matthew is 'the ethical nature
of the disciples, their piety and merit'. Ethical perfection is required.
Repentance constitutes a precondition for forgiveness. The opposition
between faith and works is unknown. The great pictures of judgment
1. Cf. Lietzmann, Geschichte der alien Kirche (1932), I, pp. 209-11.

2. There were, of course, also God-fearers whofinally,especially in the second
generation, went over completely to Judaism and had themselves circumcised.
are based on the unquestioned presupposition that people's words and

deeds will decide their fate on the last day. Matthew has an eschato-
logically motivated doctrine of reward and punishment.1 In summary,
Schulz states that Matthew 'knows a typically early catholic doctrine
of the meritorious works of the pious' and represents, 'in a no longer
bridgable contrast to Paul, the justification and education of the pious
on the basis of meritorious works of the law', so that allegiance to
Christ becomes 'an act of human, legalistic achievement'.2 Schulz
would seem to have observed the details accurately enough; the only
question remaining is how apt his overall interpretation is.
Schulz admits that Matthew also knows 'indicative material', includ-
ing Jesus' and his disciples' authority to forgive sins; the sacrament of
communion; Jesus' easy yoke; the presence of the exalted one among
his disciples. But this 'indicative of salvation.. .is never a problem
for the salvation imperative of the law', which is in the end the
decisive factor.3
Schulz's trenchant criticism of Matthew is basically constructive. It
shows with uncompromising clarity the logical consequences of the
current view that in Judaism the law was a way of salvation, by which
one may be saved through one's own achievements and merits. If we
judge Judaism in this way, logically it is scarcely possible to judge
Matthew's Gospel in another way. If we judge the letter of Clement in
that way, it is hardly possible to understand Matthew's Gospel differ-
ently.4 If the religion of Judaism and that of Clement is a religion of
achievement, then so is Matthew's religion. Matthew, in turn, has
hardly moved so terribly far from the proclamation of Jesus, and the
consequence must therefore be evident: if the proclamation of Jesus is
measured by Schulz's criteria, it was early catholic, and Jesus was
already calling his hearers to righteousness through works.
Now an exegete should not fight shy of this conclusion when the
texts really point in this direction. But it seems to me to be more
appropriate to judge the situation differently. If the discussion above
is correct, Judaism was never to a great extent a religion of
1. Die Mine, pp. 184-87.

2. Die Mine, p. 187.
3. Die Mine, pp. 188-89.
4. According to Beyschlag (Clemens Romanus und der Fruhkatholizismus,
pp. 341-42), 'the apologetically reworked "synoptic" proclamation' indeed forms
the centre of Clement's Christianity.
'righteousness through works'. The works required by the law were

evidences of obedience towards God. This is the case for Judaism, for
Jesus, for Matthew and for Clement. Ulrich Luz has correctly
observed,
Matthew knows no automatic salvation without human righteousness. But
the important point for him is the same as applies to Judaism as a whole:
human activity is not to be equated with human achievement, on the basis
of which a person may stake a claim to righteousness before God.1
The same is true of Clement.

'Justification by works'—an 'early catholic' doctrine? No! If there
is such a phenomenon for which the term 'early Catholicism' is apt
(this question has been by-passed in this essay), 'justification by works'
is in any case no indication of it. Least of all can 'justification by
works' be used as one of the criteria by which one might seek to
determine the scope of 'early catholic' literature. The other Apostolic
Fathers would of course need to be investigated from this perspective
also. As far as 1 Clement and the literature of the NT are concerned
(I think this applies also to the NT writings mentioned at the start,
which could not be treated here2), the theory of justification by works
is fundamentally wrong. People are not 'thrown back upon their own
strength' but are challenged to turn to their merciful father and
creator, who has called them in Jesus Christ, who forgives them and
expects them to walk gratefully, worthy of their calling with God's
help in good works. Or, as Clement expressed it in his thoroughly
paraenetic writing (16.17): we who were led under the gracious yoke
of Christ must live according to his example. 'Early Catholicism' may
have its problems—we encountered one of these with Clement—but
these problems fall outside the area of soteriology.
1. In R. Smend and U. Luz, Gesetz (1981), p. 85 (emphasis mine).

2. See my Paul and the Law, pp. 191-98.
Chapter 9
ZION TORAH AND BIBLICAL THEOLOGY:

THOUGHTS ON A TUBINGEN THEORY
1. Introduction
The desire is being expressed today that Old and New Testament
theology should, after a separation that has lasted for two hundred
years, be reunited under the common roof of a theology of the whole
Bible. An attempt is being made to establish the unity of the scriptures
with new methods which are supposed to be fair also to the differ-
ences and various layers and traditions in them.1
In such a cross-disciplinary 'biblical theology', it is inevitable that
the question of the law will be a crucial issue. For surely extensive
tracts of the OT revelation of Torah are rejected as invalid in the NT.
Paul, in particular, seems, as far as the place of the Torah is con-
cerned, to move in a completely different world from the pious
figures of the OT.2 Christ is the end of the law (Rom. 10.4).3 The law
was only a provisional addition to God's 'testament', which consisted
in the promise given to Abraham. Furthermore, the law was given
only in respect of a limited period of time, namely until the coming of
Christ, and indeed given only by angels and not directly from God
1. See especially H.-J. Kraus, Die Biblische Theologie (1970); K. Haacker

(ed.), Biblische Theologie heute (Biblisch-Theologische Studien, 1; 1977); O. Merk,
'Biblische Theologie IF, TRE, VI, pp. 469ff.; H. Graf Reventlow, Hauptprobleme
der Biblischen Theologie im 20. Jahrhundert (Ertrage der Forschung, 203; 1983).
2. See E.P. Sanders, Paul, the Law, and the Jewish People (1983);
H. Raisanen, Paul and the Law (WUNT, 29; 1983); H. Hubner, Das Gesetz bei
Paulus (FRLANT, 119; 2nd edn, 1980), who does, however, draw a distinction
between the views of Galatians and Romans.
3. See Raisanen, Paul and the Law, pp. 53ff. Even if Rom. 10.4 should be
speaking of the 'goal' of the law, there are plenty of Pauline texts which justify
speaking of the 'end' of the law (see Raisanen, Paul and the Law, pp. 42ff.)
226 Jesus, Torah and Paul
(Gal. 3.15-20). It is closely related to sin and death and is not able to
give life to human beings (Rom. 7; 2 Cor. 3). In 2 Corinthians 3 Paul
links 'the letter that kills' expressly with the tablets of stone from
Sinai. In so doing, he makes it clear that his criticism is directed not at
some supposed Jewish misunderstanding, such as a legalistic interpre-
tation,1 but at the law of Sinai itself, even the heart of that law, the
Decalogue. Paul's letters certainly contain more positive statements
about the Torah too, and the relationship between these and the nega-
tive assertions is a problem in itself.2 But however that problem is
solved, the fact remains that for Paul the Torah is no longer in effect
(even if some of its commandments are still relevant). Similarly, some
of the statements of Jesus, as reported in the Gospels, also pass over
the Torah and thus, at least indirectly, drop the assumption that it has
the character of immutable divine revelation.3
The tricky question from the point of view of 'biblical theology',
then, is whether such an attitude to the Torah is somehow in harmony
with the OT view, or even with just some OT traditions. Not
infrequently, indeed, exegetes have referred to certain OT passages,
especially Jeremiah 31 or Ezekiel 20, as kinds of precedents for Jesus
and Paul.4 Martin Noth even tried to show that Paul was indeed doing
justice to the intentions of the Deuteronomist when taking the latter to
say that law-abiding Jews stand inevitably under a curse.5 Gerhard
von Rad pointed to the judgment-preaching of the pre-exilic prophets
as an anticipation of the 'law' in the dogmatic sense of the word,
apparently without taking enough account of the fact that it is only the
transgression of the law that is accompanied by fateful consequences,
rather than the covenant law per se.6 In the prophets parallels can be
1. See Raisanen, Paul and the Law, pp. 42ff. The critique of C.E.B. Cranfield
given there largely applies also to Dunn's recent attempt to portray only a particular
understanding of Torah as the object of Paul's criticism (J.D.G. Dunn, 'The New
Perspective on Paul', BJRL 65 [1983], pp. 95ff.).
2. Cf. Raisanen, Paul and the Law, pp. 62ff., 199ff.
3. On this whole problem, see, e.g., H. Hiibner, Das Gesetz in der
synoptischen Tradition (1973).
4. Cf. Raisanen, Paul and the Law, pp. 158ff., 240ff.
5. M. Noth, Gesammelte Studien zum Alten Testament (TBu, 6; 1957),
pp. 155ff. On this, see Raisanen, Paul and the Law, pp. 124ff.
6. G. von Rad, Theologie des Alten Testament (4th edn, 1965), II, pp. 421ff.;
cf. H. Hiibner, 'Das Gesetz als elementares Thema einer biblischen Theologie?', KD
9. Zion Torah and Biblical Theology 227
found, at best, to the function of the law to expose sins—a function of

the law found in Paul also (Rom. 3.20)—but not to its task of
increasing sins (Rom. 5.20) or even causing sin (Rom. 7.5).1
It must suffice here simply to refer to those older attempts. Instead,
our focus will be on a new attempt to design the chapter about the
Torah in a pan-biblical theology. This attempt has its origin in
Hartmut Gese's profound but difficult ideas; he states: 'The deeper our
understanding of the Old Testament "law", the clearer the link
between the Old and the New Testament is to us'. 2 Gese's thoughts
were immediately taken up, modified and further developed by his NT
colleague in Tubingen, Peter Stuhlmacher.3 As is well known, for
many years Stuhlmacher has been intensively occupied with
hermeneutical questions, not least with problems of a pan-biblical
theology.4 An examination of his view of the law in the framework of
a 'biblical theology' can thus serve at the same time as a test case in
that larger enterprise.5
22 (1976), p. 269; Raisanen, Paul and the Law, p. 161.

1. On law and sin in Paul, see Raisanen, Paul and the Law, pp. 140ff.
2. H. Gese, Zur biblischen Theologie (BEvT, 78; 2nd edn, 1983), p. 56; other
works by Gese cited here are 'Psalm 50 und das alttestamentliche Gesetzes-
verstandnis', in Rechtfertigung (Festschrift E. Kasemann; 1976), pp. 57ff.;
'Ezechiel 20,25f. und die Erstgeburtsopfer', in Beitrdge zur alttestamentlichen
Theologie (Festschrift W. Zimmerli; 1977), pp. 140ff.
3. P. Stuhlmacher, 'Das Gesetz als Thema biblischer Theologie', ZTK 75
(1978), pp. 25Iff. (reprinted in P. Stuhlmacher, Versohnung, Gesetz und
Gerechtigkeit[l9Sl],pp. 136ff.).
4. Cf., e.g., P. Stuhlmacher, Schriftauslegung auf dem Wege zur biblischen
Theologie (1975); Vom Verstehen des Neuen Testaments (1979); and the collection
of essays mentioned in the previous note.
5. Stuhlmacher's sketch has already been the object of intensive discussion,
including some harsh criticism. See, e.g., E. Grasser, 'Offene Fragen im Umkreis
einer biblischen Theologie', ZTK 11 (1980), pp. 200-201; G. Strecker, 'Biblische
Theologie', in Kirche (Festschrift G. Bornkamm; 1980), pp. 425ff.; Reventlow,
Hauptprobleme, pp. 142ff. On the Zion Torah theory only incidental comments have
been made, but they have included fairly critical objections. See Strecker, 'Biblische
Theologie', pp. 433-34 (who, however, allows the Zion Torah as a 'peripheral
theme' in the OT); H. Hubner, 'Biblische Theologie und Theologie des Neuen
Testaments', KD 27 (1981), pp. 31-32; U. Luz, in R. Smend and U. Luz, Gesetz
(Biblische Konfrontationen, 1015; 1981), pp. 54, 149 n. 104. No proper discussion
of the issue has taken place; see now, however, M. Kalusche, 'Das Gesetz als
Thema biblischer Theologie?', ZNW 11 (1986), pp. 194-205. This critique of
2. The Theory of the 'Zion Torah1

It is to Gese's and Stuhlmacher's credit that they view the Torah
theme from a tradition-historical point of view and thereby propose
differentiations within the two testaments. They sketch various lines of
development which proceed from the older parts of the OT and are
supposed to be continued in the NT. One line runs from the Decalogue
via Deuteronomy to the law-psalms, Psalms 1, 19 and 119, and on to
the wisdom understanding of Torah as the Sophia of God and the
ordering of creation (Baruch 3-4; Sirach 24).1 A second line leads
from Ezekiel to the Priestly writing and from there also to Sirach 24.2
In both cases it is presupposed that the human being is God's creation
and, on the basis of divine forgiveness, is 'quite capable of remaining
in the order of life opened up and entrusted to him or her by
Yahweh'.3 The Torah is not seen as a problem. One can agree largely
with the way these lines are drawn.
This 'historical step-by-step sequence of intensified experience of
the law'4 is accompanied, however, 'by a growing recognition of the
fallenness of the existence of the people, of the faith community and
of the individual before Yahweh'5. This line of development is of
decisive significance for Stuhlmacher:
Precisely in agreement with this recognition is the insight that repeatedly
emerges in Jeremiah and Ezekiel into the human need for renewal and the
provisional nature of the Torah of Moses from Sinai?
The Torah from Sinai

bears, according to (Jeremiah and) Ezekiel, the marks of a historical
temporariness and of a deficiency which makes it needful of change once
again. Instead of simply leading to life, the Sinai Torah, by virtue of its
wording, leads into contexts of guilt, from which only the new creation
can help one out.
Stuhlmacher's position appeared simultaneously with the present article; the results
converge to a remarkable degree.
1. Stuhlmacher, 'Gesetz', pp. 254-55; cf. Gese, Theologie, pp. 83ff.
2. Stuhlmacher, * Gesetz', pp. 255-56. For P, however, see also below, p. 241.
3. Stuhlmacher, 'Gesetz', p. 256.
6. 'Gesetz', p. 256, emphasis mine.
In support, he cites Jer. 31.31ff., Ezek. 36.22-28, 37, 20.25-26.1 The

last-mentioned passage even draws attention to 'the horrifying tempo-
rariness of the Sinai Torah'.2
Many other texts are linked conceptually with those mentioned
above: Isa. 2.2-4, Mic. 4.1-4, Isa. 25.7-9, Ezek. 40-48, Ps. 50. All
these texts coincide in their statements to such an extent that one can
speak of the 'expectation of an eschatological Zion Torah which
corresponds eschatologically to the Torah from Sinai',3 without being
simply identical to the Sinai Torah. Its starting point is Zion, not
Sinai. 'By means of the gift of the Spirit and the destruction of death
this Torah is intended to be judicious and practicable in its own right.'
In its centre stands the Todah, the thankoffering after salvation from
deadly peril. The Zion Torah is directed towards all peoples. Thus it
'completes eschatologically what in the Sinai Torah was only spoken
of in historical temporariness'.4
Attention should be drawn at this point to a difference between the
conceptions of Stuhlmacher and Gese. According to Gese,5 the
development to the 'Zion Torah' is only 'apparently' 'quite different'
from the 'melting of the Torah with the cosmic law' which came on
the scene with 'sapientialization'. Stuhlmacher, on the other hand,
emphasizes6 that the OT understanding of the law remained 'disputed';
the dialectic of provisional Sinai Torah and eschatological Zion Torah
has 'not been brought into balance' in the OT. When, later, the first
Christians took one or the other line of development, this just led into
a conflict.7 For Gese, 'dialectic' in the understanding of the law
means, in the final analysis, harmony, while Stuhlmacher is interested
in working out real differences.
It is within the framework of the Zion Torah view, then, that one
can best understand the work of Jesus. Jesus wanted, among other
things, to be 'the messianic fulfiller of the law'.8 From the point of
view of the expectation of the Zion Torah one can understand Jesus'
1. Stuhlmacher, 'Gesetz', p. 257; cf. Gese, Theologie, pp. 74ff.

3. Stuhlmacher, 'Gesetz', p. 258; cf. Gese, Theologie, pp. 75-76.
5. Theologie, p. 73.
6. 'Gesetz', p. 259
7. 'Gesetz', p. 267.
criticism of the law of Moses, and his setting up of the true, original
will of God, as a unified process. From the eucharistic texts one can
say that the Zion Torah is made clear 'in and with Jesus'.1
Stuhlmacher asserts that early Christianity was split in its under-
standing of the law. Some basic groupings endeavoured to achieve a
synthesis of the Torah of Moses and faith in Christ. They latched on to
'the tradition of understanding the law that comes to its peak in Sirach
24 and Baruch 3 and 4', and took Jesus' claim to be the fulfiller of the
Torah to refer 'only to a Christian modification of the Sinai Torah'
(thus the Jerusalem community, Matthew's Gospel, the Epistle of
James, etc.)2 Other groups, meanwhile, associated themselves 'more
strongly with those traditions that pointed to the Zion Torah' (the
Stephen circle, Hebrews, Paul).
The Torah of Christ, under which Paul stands and under which he places
Christians, is the Zion Torah raised up by Christ by means of his obedient
death. .. As an ordering of life of the new covenant-*duty' of
Jer. 31.3Iff. the eschatologically changed Torah of Moses is the
eschastological Torah of Zion. .. 3
3. Critique
Such are the bare bones of the theory of Gese and Stuhlmacher. An
examination of the arguments, however, shows them to be extremely
vulnerable. Before going into detail, the main aspects of my mis-
givings may be briefly summarized as follows:
1. None of the OT texts cited gives any indication that there was
any real question of a revelation of a new Torah that differed
in content from the law of Sinai. Rather, in the prophetic
critique of the cult one may observe an apparent attempt to
understand the Sinai revelation correctly, the form of which
was not yet conclusively defined.
2. The references cited for the supposed expectation of a Zion
Torah in fact form a fairly heterogeneous conglomeration.
No single text demonstrates all the above-listed characteristics

of the Zion Torah—or even just half of them. The Zion

Torah looks rather like an artificial construction.
3. Gese and Stuhlmacher do not even attempt to verify the exis-
tence of an expectation of the Zion Torah in the light of early
Jewish texts.
4. The basic concept of 'Torah' is misleadingly broadly
conceived.
5. With the exception of the author of Hebrews, NT authors do
not rely on the relevant OT passages in connection with the
problem of the law. Moreover Gese, in particular, clearly
softens NT statements that are critical of the law.
a. The Problem of the Alteration of the Torah

Has there really been a belief since Jeremiah that the content of the
Torah would be changed in the eschatological future?
In Jer. 31.31-34 there is the prospect of a change in people's atti-
tude to God's law.1 This change will be brought about by God himself
in the future.2 He will lay his Torah in people's inner parts, or write it
on their hearts (v. 32). It will then not be necessary for anyone to
urge people to know Yahweh, for by means of forgiveness of sins the
whole of Israel will know him anyway. This great renewal in people's
relationship to Yahweh constitutes the content of the new covenant,
which will displace the old covenant which Israel broke. People's
hearts will be renewed. There is no indication of any changes in the
content of the Torah, not to mention the notion of a new messianic
law.3
That Jeremiah 31 is concerned with a change in people rather than
1. See, e.g., W. Rudolph, Jeremia (HAT; 3rd edn, 1968), ad loc.\ von Rad,
Theologie des Alten Testaments, II, p. 279: The new will occur only in the anthro-
pological domain, namely in a change of the human heart'. Similarly and more
recently, J. Bright, Covenant and Promise (1977), p. 195; H. Weippert, 'Das Wort
vom Neuen Bund Jer. xxxi.31-34', VT29 (1979), p. 339.
2. There is also doubt, however, as to whether the eschatological future is
meant. Cf. S. Herrmann, Die prophetischen Heilserwartungen im Alten Testament
(BWANT, 5; 1965), p. 185: For the author 'the realization of the new
covenant. . . is not an eschatological but a present problem'. For a different view see
C. Levin, Die Verheissung des neuen Bundes (FRLANT, 137; 1985), p. 264.
3. See also R.P. Carroll, From Chaos to Covenant (1981), p. 218; Levin,
Verheissung, pp. 259-64.
an alteration of the law is also indicated by the fact that the same
promise can be expressed in parallel passages without any mention of
the Torah. In Jer. 32.40 we read, then: * . . . I will agree an eternal
covenant with them.. .and I shall lay my fear in their hearts, so that
they will not turn away from me'. Jer. 24.7, furthermore, contains the
promise: 'I shall give them a heart to know that I am Yahweh'. Here,
too, there is no trace of a mention of Torah. It is not of central
interest.1
It is perfectly true that the human being is presented as in need of
renewal. 2 On the other hand one cannot speak of a 'transformation' or
an 'eschatological new revelation' of the Torah. Nor do we hear of
any 'temporariness'3 of the old Torah. The fact that the transgression
of the law has severe consequences does not in any way signify that
the law itself is somehow harmful, inferior or in need of change. Jer.
31.3Iff. presumably derives from a Deuteronomistic redaction;4 in
any case the passage is very much in tune with one of the basic
demands of Deuteronomy, classically expressed in Deut. 6.5: Israel
should love Yahweh with all its heart. There is little suggestion in this
passage, it is true, of optimism as regards the human capacity for
keeping to God's Torah. The hope of a better future is invested in
Yahweh alone, in his ability to change the rebellious human heart. The
expectation that Yahweh would himself change human behaviour
greatly excited minds in the period of the exile (besides Ezek. 11.19
1. According to Levin (Verheissung, p. 260), it is possible to concludefromthis

that the original text of Jer. 31.31, 34 did not yet contain the promise of the Torah
written in the heart (cf. n. 4 below). But Levin claims all the more strongly that the
Torah of v. 33 is not a 'new' one but 'the Jewish law', probably even 'in an
advanced stage of its canonization' (p. 259).
4. Cf. Herrmann, Heilserwartungen, pp. 179ff.; S. Bohmer, Heimkehr und
neuer Bund (Gottinger Theologische Arbeiten, 5), pp. 74ff.; E.W. Nicholson,
Preaching to the Exiles (1970), pp. 82ff.; Carroll, Chaos, pp. 215ff. Levin
(Verheissung, pp. 58-59,257ff.) is keen to see in v. 33a an 'addition in the addition'
and to ascribe it to a later glossator who is already 'looking back to the finished form
of the Pentateuch' (p. 260). That the origin lies with Jeremiah is argued by Rudolph
(Jeremia, ad loc), Bright (Covenant, p. 194), Weippert ('Das Wort', pp. 348ff.)
and H.D. Potter ('The New Covenant in Jeremiah xxxi 31-34', VT 33 [1983],
pp. 347ff.). The origin of the passage is not of major significance for the present
discussion.
and 36.26 see Deut. 29.3-4; 30.6). But there the Torah is certainly not
seen as a problem; the problem is people.1 Judaism did full justice to
Jeremiah 31 when it did not derive from it an expectation of an
abrogation of the law.2
Ezek. 36.25-27 is even clearer. When God gathers the Israelites
from among the nations he will purify them and give them a new
heart and a new spirit, by placing his spirit in them. He thereby makes
it possible for the people to walk in accordance with God's com-
mandments and follow his ordinances. There is no indication of new
kinds of commandments. While Ezek. 11.19-20 is practically identical
with 36.25-27, in 18.30-31 the call to repentance is expressed without
any mention of the commandments: 'Cast away from you all the
transgressions which you have committed against me, and get your-
selves a new heart and a new spirit!' The renewal of the nation is
envisaged here, nothing else.3
It says in Isaiah 2 and Micah 4 that 'the Torah proceeds from Zion
and the word of Yahweh from Jerusalem'. Unlike the traditional
Torah this one is addressed to foreign nations streaming to Jerusalem
to 'find instruction for a life with which they can stand before the
judgment of God'.4 The word torah is probably to be understood in
the limited sense of 'a piece of individual instruction', which is
suggested also by the parallel expression, 'word of Yahweh'.5 There is
1. So also Potter, who sides with those who argue for a Jeremianic origin,
though with a social-critical emphasis:
Faced with the deep-seated problem of human evil, by its occurrence especially in the
institutions of power, and by its corrupting and debilitating effect on others. . .
Jeremiah saw that only by the removal of all the apparatus of secular mediation of
divine truth could God speak to men, and men respond to him ('New Covenant',
p. 355).
The new covenant is new because it will not be 'mediated by scribes and the elite'
(p. 353).
2. Carroll (Chaos, p. 219), meanwhile correctly draws attention to the fact that
neither in Judaism nor Christianity can one speak meaningfully of a fulfilment of this
promise (there will be no need of a teacher in matters of religion!).
3. Gese (Theologie, p. 74) also states that—because of its 'transcendental
character*—no changes need to be made to the form of the Torah.
4. O. Kaiser, Der Prophet Jesaja, Kap. 1-12 (ATD; 1963), p. 21. There is no
need to give a view on the question of authenticity at this point.
5. Kaiser, Jesaja, p. 21; H. Wildberger, Jesaja (BKAT; 1972), pp. 84ff.:
'settlement of particular conflicts', 'decisions of an umpire'.
no indication of the revelation of a new Torah, different from the law

of Moses.1 Yahweh's Torah resounds from Zion, as was always the
case. The newness consists in the fact that now the nations see this
too—perhaps thanks to a reshaping of the earth. It becomes clear to
them that Zion/Jerusalem is the 'true centre of the human world'. 'In
the eyes of everyone Yahweh has shown himself to be the true creator
and lord of the world.'2
It should be noticed that the word concerning the Torah that pro-
ceeds from Zion is on the lips of the nations. But they would scarcely
be the most appropriate medium for the proclamation of a new reve-
lation of Yahweh! Rather, the nations at last recognize where it is that
they should turn in their distress.3
In Isaiah 25 nothing is said about the law.4
Whether Psalm 50 is directed against the sacrificial cult (prescribed
in the law) as such or only wishes to defend itself against a false
understanding of the actually legitimate and necessary animal
sacrifice,5 is debatable. We find sufficient the observation that Gese6
aligns himself with the opinion—coming increasingly to the fore in
recent years,
1. 'Promised. . . is not the end but the completion of the temple cult of
Jerusalem' (Kaiser, Jesaja, p. 21. Cf. J.D. Levenson, Theology of the Program of
Restoration ofEzekiel 40-48 [1976], p. 42).
2. Kaiser, Jesaja, pp. 21-22.
3. It can be asked whether such passages as Isa. 51.4 or 42.4 should not have
been included in a theory of a Zion Torah, since these passages do indeed speak of a
Torah to the nations. Cf. the points made by O. Hofius ('Das Gesetz des Mose und
das Gesetz Christi', ZTK 80 [1983], pp. 285-86), who looks for the background of
6 v6u.oq %ox> xpiaxoS (Gal. 6.2) in Isa. 42. But there is nothing in these passages
to indicate a new kind of instruction (contrast Isa. 51.7). Is that the reason why such
passages were not taken up? They would have been better examples than those cited
by Gese and Stuhlmacher to the extent that they speak unequivocally of a Toraht but
they are just not suitable for the notion of a new Torah.
4. Nor in Ps. 46, which is cited by Gese (Theologiey p. 74) but dropped by
Stuhlmacher. See below, p. 246.
5. For the former, see H. Schmidt, Die Psalmen (HAT; 1934), p. 98. On the
latter, cf., e.g., H.-J. Hermisson, Sprache und Ritus im altisraelitischen Kult
(WMANT, 19; 1965), p. 36: God's speech sets right the emphases in the cult;
H.-J. Kraus, Die Psalmen (BKAT; 5th edn, 1978), I, pp. 533ff.: only false
expectations on the part of the community are rejected, not sacrifice as such.
6. 'Psalm 50', p. 69.
that only the forms of the usual understanding of sacrifice are subjected to
attack. . . The sacrifices are rejected not on their own account, but as a
human gift which God is supposed to need as a human accomplishment
that in some way was beneficial to God.
But if it is simply a matter of removing a misunderstanding, there is

no reason to speak of a new Torah.
Gese's explanations, it is true, are obscure at this point. He says that
in Ps. 5O.7ff. 'a revelation of Torah occurs which is opposed to the
Sinai tradition right up to its last expression in the priestly writing'.1
The Zion Torah is placed above the Sinai tradition. Similarly, he
speaks of a fundamental, qualitative alteration of the Torah in which
in contrast to the Sinai tradition 'the rejection of the normal forms of
the bloody sacrifice is expressed'. Only one sacrifice is accepted by
God, namely the Todah.2 If that were true, we would indeed be
confronted with a case of abrogation. But then it is not a matter of an
'eschatological' change of Torah, as Gese himself acknowledges,
especially with reference to vv. 22-23.3 But then Gese immediately
weakens his thesis again: in spite of all competition Psalm 50 aims to
represent 'the complete truth now being revealed, including the truth
of the Sinai tradition'. The ancient forms and content of the tradition
remain, but 'the true understanding of them is only now being fully
brought to light'.4 Gese himself remarks that the priestly conception
of sacrifice is not determined by the idea of a gift to God, which
seems to contradict the notion that Psalm 50 is 'opposed' to the older
tradition of the law. In support, however, Gese observes that 'the
external impression of a great cultic accomplishment, however, arises
from the impressive business of sacrifice in the Jerusalem Temple'. 5
But the rejection of a false understanding of something cannot be
opposed to the thing itself.
Psalm 50 presents Gese's conception with a dilemma. Either the
bloody animal sacrifices—with the possible exception of the thanks-
1. Gese, 'Psalm 50', p. 66, emphasis mine.

2. Gese, 'Psalm 50', p. 75.
3. Stuhlmacher ('Gesetz', p. 259) draws support from the information that the
supplicant in the Psalm knows that he 'already in the present can participate in the
will of God, the revelation of which from Zion was one day to satisfy and mark the
whole world'.
4. Gese, 'Psalm 50', pp. 66-67.
5. Gese, 'Psalm 50', p. 72, emphasis his.
giving sacrifice—are being rejected here, or they are not being

rejected. There is no third possibility. In the former case there is a
striking break in the development of the understanding of the law—
for what is a clear * rejection of older tradition of the law.. .without
the slightest break with the overall tradition of the Torah' 1 supposed
to mean? If a rejection, then a break, too! Gese would no doubt not
admit this (presumably because of his view of biblical theology); in
his opinion Psalm 50 makes it clear 'how one understands this revela-
tion as an unfolding revelation which reveals the old truth anew, on a
new level'. 2 But if the ancient sacrifices are devalued, then it is
misleading to refer to them as 'old truth' which now is 'revealed
anew'. Perhaps this is why Gese cannot place any emphasis on abro-
gation, because (as Gese admits) it is not eschatologically conditioned.
Rather, the critique of the sacrifice in Psalm 50 is connected with that
of the great prophets.3 The critique of the sacrifice is therefore in fact
older than the crystallization of the transmission of the law in
Deuteronomy, not to mention in the priestly writing. So if abrogation
were emphasized here, that would suit neither the unity of biblical
theology in general nor the theory of the Zion Torah in particular.4
One would then indeed have to view the sacrificial Torah as a false
development (cf. Jer. 7.21-23). This is how some interpreters like to
take the prophetic critique.5
But if—and this is the second possibility—Psalm 50 is speaking only
of the rejection of a false understanding of the sacrifice and of the
establishment of a correct understanding, then it automatically rules
itself out as evidence for the expectation of an eschatological new
Torah.
1. Gese, 'Psalm 50', p. 58.

2. Gese, 'Psalm 50', p. 67.
3. With reference to Ps. 51.15ff. Gese (Jheologie, p. 73) also speaks of a
'general devaluation' of sacrifice; however, he links all the criticism of sacrifice in the
Psalms with a 'Toda-piety' which Ps. 50 is also supposed to witness to.
4. Gese sees an analogy to the relationship of Ps. 50 to older law tradition in
Jesus' position with regard to the OT Torah (Theologie, pp. 58, 77). See below,
p. 248.
5. Thus, e.g., R. Hentschke, Die Stellung der vorexilischen Schriftpropheten
zum Kultus (BZAW, 75; 1957), pp. 110-11, 114-15; Rudoph, Jeremia, pp. 57-58.
For an alternative view, see, e.g., Wildberger, Jesaja, p. 38.
There remains the bold assertion of Ezekiel (Ezek. 20.25-26) that

Yahweh
gave Israel statutes that were not good, and ordinances by which they
could not have life, and defiled them through their very gifts in making
them offer (by fire?) all their firstborn.
This statement is truly puzzling. It is seen by many other interpreters
too as a kind of anticipation of Paul's critique of the law. Thus
Zimmerli writes,
By this means the wrath of God and his judgment are intertwined with the
very commandment of God. . . It is a strange partial anticipation of the
recognition, which then surfaces in a more fundamental way in Paul, that
in the end the commandment of God itself becomes a judgment of
humanity.1
It is in this context that Stuhlmacher speaks of the 'horrifying

temporariness of the Sinai Torah'.2
According to the most common interpretation the difficult passage
is concerned with the sacrifice of firstborn children, a custom which
was at least occasionally practised in Israel. It is conceivable that in
justification of such a practice appeal was made to certain passages in
the Torah, especially to Exod. 22.28b: 'You shall give me the first-
born of your sons'; in distinction from the parallel passages in
Exodus, here there is no prospect of a process of 'redemption'. In that
case Ezekiel would indeed be criticizing a terrible misunderstanding
or a misuse of the law. The reference to God as the giver of the regu-
lation in question would mean only that he did not hinder this misuse.3
If this interpretation is correct, there is no anticipation of Paul's
critique of the law.
Zimmerli points out, however, that the practice of child sacrifice is
indeed in agreement with the literal form of Exod. 22.28b, so that
strictly speaking there is no misunderstanding. He remarks that
Ezekiel is not in a position to push the strict interpretation of that
sentence simply to one side. The prophet represents the mood of a
generation:
1. W. Zimmerli, Das Gesetz und die Propheten (1963), p. 128.

2. *Gesetz\ p. 258.
3. So, e.g., W. Eichrodt, Der Prophet Hesekiel, I (ATD; 1959) and
J.W. Wevers, Ezekiel (Century Bible; 1969), ad he.
It is without doubt the language of a period that is deeply affected by

mystery, a period shaken in its secure belief in its own ability to achieve
righteousness, which dares to bow to the enigma of a divine punishment
that is contained in the commandment itself, without trying to avoid the
idea. The Pauline recognition of the nature of the law can here be guessed
at from a distance in a peculiarly limited formulation.1
In other places in the book of Ezekiel, however, child sacrifices are

judged unequivocally as a sin of Israel, without the slightest indication
of the fact that this could ever have been a divine statute. Even if—with
Zimmerli 2 —one deletes 20.31 as an addition, there is still 16.20-21:
And you took your sons and your daughters, whom you had borne to me,
and these you sacrificed to them to be devoured. Were your harlotries so
small a matter that you slaughtered my children and delivered them up as
an offering (byfire)to them?
This passage betrays no trace of a divine mystery; the tone is that of a

stern judgment. It is true that this passage is also judged by Zimmerli
(and others) to be secondary. But who added it? Zimmerli himself
remarks, after all, that there is no good reason to deny that Ezekiel
himself played a role in the inclusion of vv. 16-21. 3 But even if
Ezekiel had nothing to do with the addition of 16.20-21, these verses
in any case show that the radical idea of a mysterious divine
commandment (assuming there was such an idea) was not taken up in
the succeeding period. It was not even taken up by those circles which
in 16.16-21 (as Zimmerli expressly states) offered a first interpreta-
tion which largely retains the intentions of the original message. The
consequence is clear: Ezek. 20.25-26 in the radical exposition
supported by Zimmerli does not give expression to the mood of a
generation and does not bear witness to a current of Torah-critique. If
the words are meant radically—and it does indeed seem that the 'gifts'
of v. 26 are brought to Yahweh and not idols!—then they stand in
complete isolation.
Gese suggests a new interpretation. He rejects any connection
between this passage and the child sacrifices. In his view v. 26 is
1. W. Zimmerli, Ezechiel (BKAT; 1969), p. 449; Gese ('Ezechiel 20,25f.\

p. 141 n. 7) agrees.
2. Zimmerli, Ezechiel, p. 450.
3. Zimmerli, Ezechiel, p. 363. It is not clear from Gese's essay what his view is
concerning the origin of these verses.
referring to the normal sacrifice of firstborn animals. The law of the

sacrifice of the firstborn animals is an example of a 'second revela-
tion', which is to be distinguished from the true Sinai revelation.1
This is not the place to discuss the correctness of this new interpre-
tation.2 But it is striking that this 'second revelation' corresponds,
according to Gese, to the 'natural religion' of humanity. In the insti-
tution of the sacrifice of the firstborn, 'that primeval religious force'
is at work which believes it is giving God what is his. Israel's piety
has 'succumbed to the spirit of the world around'. 3 But then it is
difficult to continue to speak of a revelation. Contamination by the
religious environment and revelation by Yahweh are surely mutually
exclusive as causes. Although Gese praises Zimmerli for not succumb-
ing to the 'palliatory' misunderstanding theory,4 he proposes some-
thing that greatly resembles that theory. He has replaced the misun-
derstanding theory with a deformation theory, the effect of which will
be just as much the exculpation of the original Sinai Torah. So God's
possible role in the 'commandments that are not good' remains com-
pletely in the air. It is not at all clear why in Gese's exposition one
should speak of a horrifying temporariness of the Sinai Torah
1. 'Ezechiel 20.25f.', pp. 146-47.

2. I mention only the following: Gese—no doubt correctly—draws attention to
some difficulties in the usual interpretation. He shows, furthermore, that the verb
he'ebir was not a technical term limited in use to the cult of Molek; the similarity in
wording between Ezek. 20.26'and Exod. 13.12 (a commandment in respect of the
sacrifice of firstborn animals in the context of the legitimate Yahweh cult) is indeed
striking. On the other hand, however, he 'ebir clearly relates to child sacrifice in
16.21. If this verse is authentic—Gese does not give his opinion on this—it could
indeed be decisive. And even if it should be an addition, it will nonetheless show that
the circles of the disciples of the prophets, from which it probably derives, will also
have related 20.26 with he'ebir to child sacrifice.
3. 'Ezechiel 20.25f.\ pp. 149-50. One wonders at this point why it should be
the sacrifice of firstborn that is mentioned here rather than the institution of sacrifice
in general. Gese's answer is that Ezekiel correctly saw the historical origin of animal
sacrifice in the sacrifice of firstborn (p. 149). However, he also offers the other
interpretation that
thefirstbornsacrifices, as the only animal sacrifices which are not to be profaned have
brought Israel into the situation of having to perform a sacrificial cult at the sanc-
tuaries, that is, on the high places ('Ezechiel 20.25f.\ p. 149).
4. 'Ezechiel 20.25f.\ p. 141.

(Stuhlmacher). The commands that were not good were precisely not
contained in the Sinai Torah!
Instead, the expression in Ezek. 20.25-26 could in principle have
served as the point of departure for a programme of reform, the aim
of which would have been to purge the extant 'old' Torah from its
later 'not good' additions.1 On the basis of Ezek. 20.25 it would have
been possible to try to identify the false additions and then remove
them. But there would have been no need of a new law for this pur-
pose, unless the 'not-good' commandments were so hopelessly
entwined with the authentic commandments that only a new divine
revelation could expose them (just as for the Pseudo-Clementines Jesus
is the exposer of the false pericopes). But how in that case could
Ezekiel get on the track of such a commandment? By divine inspira-
tion? That would make the Zion Torah a contemporary entity instead
of an eschatological one.
The saying is hard, difficult and unique. It stands on its own.
Nothing further is built upon it. Nor does the vision of the temple in
chs. 40-48 stand in any clear relation to it. Gese does, however, draw
attention to the fact that no firstborn sacrifices are mentioned in chs.
44-45, which he sees as no coincidence.2 That may be so. But if this
context is to be taken as a support for the supposition of a notion of a
Zion Torah, then Ezekiel 40-48 would have to represent the new Zion
Torah (or at least part of it)! Indeed it was already noticed by the
rabbis that Ezekiel 40-48 contradicts much that is in the law of
Moses.3 The prophet Ezekiel appears in these chapters as though in the
role of a 'new Moses who can open the new service of sacrifice'.4
1. Cf. Justin, Dial 21.1, who admittedly in his exposition of Ezekiel 20 non-
sensically sees the Sabbath commandment as a punishment upon Israel. An attempt
to purify the Torah of * additions' was made by the Jewish Christians from whom the
Kerygmata Petrou derive. We do not, however, know whether Ezek. 20 had any part
to play in this.
2. 'Ezechiel 20.25f.\ p. 149. Cf. also Levenson, Ezekiel 40-48, p. 39. Also
Stuhlmacher ('Gesetz', p. 258) points out that Ezek. 40-48 'in substance clearly to a
certain extent goes beyond the Sinai Torah'.
3. B. Men. 45a; b. Sab. 13b; cf. Levenson, Ezekiel 40-48', pp. 37-38. From a
tradition-historical point of view, however, such passages as Ezek. 45.18 and 46.6-
7 do seem to represent a more ancient stage than the 'Torah of Moses' (Num.
28.11).
4. Zimmerli, Ezechiel, p. 1106; Levenson, Ezekiel 40-48, pp. 38-39.
What will be new in the renewed temple service has already been
revealed to the prophet; the Zion Torah, so to speak, is already
known. What is 'new' in its cultic regulations, however, is scarcely
such as to allow a line to be drawn direct to Paul, for example.
Ezekiel does not anticipate the Pauline critique of the law. Rather,
some Christian exegetes have read Pauline—or Lutheran—ideas into
the book of Ezekiel.
It may be observed that Gese—unlike Stuhlmacher—includes the
priestly writing in his picture of the development towards the eschato-
logical Zion Torah. At first
the symbolic nature of the law indicates a transcendence which does not
let the completion of the law become an opus operation in its ownright.It
is particularly true of the post-exilic Zion cult, which has to be practised
without its centre piece, the ark, that it is no more than a provisional cult
by contrast with the cult as designed by P.1
It may be that the cultic order designed by P contains a silent eschato-
logical viewpoint. But of course this does not mean that the design was
itself 'provisional' and that accordingly one had to wait for a new
revelation of Torah; quite the contrary.
In summary, there is no documentary evidence for an expectation
of future changes to the law or an evolution of the law. Instead, a
change in the human heart, which would make possible a new kind of
obedience towards God's law, was the object of a lively hope in the
exilic and post-exilic periods.
b. The Character of the Supposed Zion Torah

No single proof-text contains all the characteristics listed for the Zion
Torah—nor yet so much as half of them (see the table below). An
extreme case is the annihilation of death, which is mentioned only in
the eschatological text Isaiah 25. The Toda, meanwhile, is mentioned
only in Psalm 50. In addition, Isaiah 25 speaks of an eschatological
meal, which Gese2 takes to be a Toda-meal. But even then there would
be a fundamental difference between the two texts, since Isaiah 25 is a
thoroughly eschatological, if not apocalyptic, text, which Psalm 50 (as
Gese admits) certainly is not.
Reference Criticism Zion Nations Spirit Toda Future Annihilation
to law of law of death
Ps. 50 + ? + - - + .
Isa. 2 + - + + - - +
(Mic. 4)
Isa. 25 - . + + . ? + +
Jer. 31 + - - . . . +
Ezek. 20.25ff.+ ? - . . . ?
Ezek. 36-37 + . . . + . +
Ezek. 40-48 + ? + . . . . +
The great eschatological meal of Isaiah 25 takes place on Mount Zion.
Zion, in the descriptions of the people's pilgrimages to Jerusalem
(Isa. 2; Mic. 4) is given as the place of the Torah. Equally, a Zion
theophany forms the point of departure for the completely uneschato-
logical Psalm 50. One wonders whether the mention of Zion alone
really justifies the postulation of a common Zion Torah tradition. On
the other hand, there is no dispute that the idea of an eschatological
glorification of Zion had a broad basis in tradition; it occurs in
Isa. 2.2-4 (Mic. 4.1-4) and Ezek. 40.2 as well as—more indirectly—in
the context of Ezekiel 20 and 36-37. One could cite a considerable
number of additional passages that deal with the glory of Zion or
Jerusalem, but not of a Torah (e.g. Isa. 60; Joel 4.17-18). But it is a
long way from the existence, indeed prominence, of eschatological
Zion tradition to a tradition of Zion Torah.
The gift of the Spirit is mentioned explicitly only in Ezekiel 36-37.
The Zion Torah will be addressed to all the nations. Isaiah 2 and
Micah 4, which speak only of foreign nations, seem to be in accord
with this assertion. On the other hand both in Jeremiah 31 and in
Ezekiel 36-37 the concern is only with a restoration of Israel, of a
gathering of the people from dispersion. Neither of the texts shows
any interest in the foreign nations.1
It is noticeable that in the table above Isaiah 25 gets the most plus
signs—precisely the text in which there is not a single word about the
Torah! By contrast, precisely the text which could most plausibly
offer an occasion for a critique of the Torah, namely Ezekiel 20,
bears only a very loose association with the overall picture of the Zion
Torah. The Zion Torah gives the impression of being an artificial
1. Correctly, e.g., Potter, 'New Covenant', pp. 353-54.

construction, the components of which derive from quite different

contexts.
c. The Sitz im Leben

It would be very difficult to name a concrete community in which
such a Zion Torah was expected. At this point Gese and Stuhlmacher
also become quite vague. But in Gese's explanations there are hints
that the expectation of a Zion Torah was once quite common in a con-
crete group of people. He asks the question, 'in what manner the
expectation of an eschatological revelation of Torah affects the exis-
tence of the Israelite in the late period', and thinks he finds an answer
in Isa. 56.1. 1 Admittedly, it remains unclear how the context is to be
understood; it appears that God's salvation and righteousness are
simply identified with the Zion Torah!2 But Gese goes further and
adds that the de-eschatologizing tendency of the Pharisaic understand-
ing of the law should not lead one to overlook 'the essential eschato-
logical components of the understanding of the law, the Zion Torah'
in the later part of the OT.3 Later, in the course of the discussion of
the Pauline understanding of the law, comes the sentence:
Of course Paul proceedsfromthe last Old Testament understanding of the
law in Apocalyptic, that is, he presupposes the contrast between the old
and the new aeons and accordingly the contrast between the Sinai Torah
and the Zion revelation*
In apocalyptic circles, in that case, the expectation of the Zion Torah

would have been a lively one.
2. Interestingly, in Isa. 56.3ff.—presumably deliberately—a Torah passage
(Deut. 23.1) is abrogated; see H. Donner, 'Jesaja LVI 1-7: Ein Abrogationsfall
innerhalb des Kanons—Implikationen und Konsequenzen', in Congress Volume
Salamanca 1983 (VTSup, 36; 1985), pp. 81-95. Stuhlmacher ('Gesetz', p. 269)
posits an influence of Isa. 56 on the Stephen circle, but the sentences about the
eunuch carry no weight in the context of the Zion Torah theory. This is quite notice-
able, because it is precisely in these sentences that there is, undisputedly, talk of a
change of the law. Does the Zion Torah theory have to ignore things that are close by
and draw upon things that are far removed? The new 'torah' (instruction) in
Isa. 56.3-5 is not eschatological but is valid 'from now on' (C. Westermann, Das
Buch Jesaja, Kap. 40-66 (ATD; 1966), p. 250.
Herewith Gese's theory comes close to the old view of a messianic

Torah which at least some Jewish groups would have been waiting for
in the New Testament period. But all attempts to prove the existence
of such an expectation from apocalyptic or rabbinic sources have
failed.1 And if Paul had nonetheless concurred with an already
existing Jewish expectation, he would have saved himself a great deal
of trouble if he had just once referred to these premises, which then
would have to have been known to his Judaistic opponents too. Instead
the apostle has to develop complicated thought processes from other
points of departure in order to prove that Christians are no longer
under the law. So those premises did not exist for him. Just the same
is true of the Zion Torah theory.
Stuhlmacher proceeds more cautiously, since he omits the mention
of apocalyptic. It is not clear from what he says whether he thinks that
the expectation of the Zion Torah in the NT period was a living tradi-
tion on which someone like Paul could immediately draw, or whether
he is thinking rather of a structural analogy between the two testa-
ments which Paul, for example, would not necessarily have been
aware of. Some statements make the first alternative more likely, for
example the assertion that in certain early Christian circles
people made greater use of the traditions that pointed to the Zion Torah
and saw themselves as confirmed in this position by Jesus' criticism of
the Pharisees and the Temple.2
In any case such statements are misleading, if what is intended is only
a 'structural parallelism between Old and New Testament expressions
of faith'.3 Recently Stuhlmacher speaks also of a 'tradition-historical
line of continuity from the Old Testament to Jesus' understanding of
the law and from this through to Paul'.4 But who is supposed to have
1. See Raisanen, Paul and the Law, pp. 236ff. and the literature mentioned there
(p. 238 n. 44).
2. 'Gesetz', p. 267; similarly, p. 274. Cf. Stuhlmacher, Versohnung, p. 90:
'Paul recognized that God has brought his Sinai revelation to its goal in Christ, and
opened that time which is predicted in the prophecies of Jer. 31.3Iff. and Isa. 2.2-
4. . . ' (emphasis mine).
3. Stuhlmacher, Verstehen, p. 64. Stuhlmacher does, however, now give the
express assurance that the Zion Torah is a 'systematic' category ('Paul's Understanding
of the Law in the Letter to the Romans', SEA 50 [1985], p. 100 n. 18).
4. Versohnung, p. 114 n. 21.
preserved this continuity and tended 'the traditions that pointed to the
Zion Torah'?
d. The Vague Concept of the Law

Most of the problems in Gese's and Stuhlmacher's expositions that
have been noted above are connected with the underlying concept of
the law, which is extremely vague. Following Deuteronomy, Gese
notes that the Torah describes the totality of the revealed will of God.
In terms of content, the law represents the new possibility of living
given by God; this means 'the opening of the condition of Shalom in
relation to God, as God's salvation'.1 Torah is what can be transmitted
through God's self-revelation.2 But this passage never loses sight of
the fact that this 'total revelation' appears 'as commandment inform'?
If one takes no account of this aspect one should no longer speak of
the Torah or even of the 'law' either. But when later in his chapter on
the law Gese speaks of the Torah, the form of the commandment not
infrequently drops out of the picture entirely. While at first he notes
on the basis of the introduction of the Decalogue that the 'revelation
of Yahweh's essence' is 'in the final analysis indistinguishable from the
revelation of Yahweh's will', 4 later he seems to subsume any
'revelation of essence' of Yahweh under the concept of the Torah. An
extreme case of this is the eschatological theophany in Isaiah 25, 5
where one can apparently speak of a 'self-revelation' of God, and in a
very broad sense also certainly of the realization of the will of God.
On the other hand the vision has nothing to do with the 'law', with the
form of the commandment; the word 'Torah' is not used and could
not have been used either. Gese mixes 'revelation of the will of God'
with 'experience of God'—a mistake which especially affects the
exposition of Jeremiah 31 and Ezekiel 36. New experience does not
necessarily mean new Torah.
Because of this very vague use of the concept of Torah Gese is able
to cite Psalm 46 also as evidence for the notion of the Zion Torah;6
1. Theologie, PPi. 56-57.

2. Theologie, P- 52.
3. Theologie, P- 56, cf. p. 63.
4. Theologie, P- 59.
5. Theologie, PPi. 75-76.
6. Theologie, P. 74
equally the expectation of the righteousness of God in Isa. 56.1. 1 It is

almost as if Gese has quietly advanced from the acceptable observation
that the Torah opens the state of shalom in relation to God to an equa-
tion of 'state of shalom' with 'Torah'. 2 In this way everything 'new'
that is expected from God—especially if it has anything to do with
'Zion'—can arbitrarily be brought under the central idea of the new
'Zion Torah'—even the new aeon.3 But it can only create confusion if
one continues to speak of 'Torah' when the actual usage of the Hebrew
word or its equivalents—or of the Greek word voôq—no longer
plays any role. The original point of the investigations was after all to
assist the understanding of the NT vo\ioq- statements.
It is no wonder that Stuhlmacher dropped such prooftexts as Psalm
46 and Isa. 56.1 in his argumentation for the Zion Torah theory.
Isaiah 25, on the other hand, he retains; indeed the passage plays quite
a considerable role in his description of the Zion Torah.
Stuhlmacher's concept of Torah is wide enough too. He quite rightly
proceeds from the premise that 'Torah' is more than 'law' and can be
best rendered by 'order of life' (Lebensordnung).4 But in the end it
seems nonetheless that conversely any 'order of life' could equally
well be called 'Torah', so that in the context of the preaching of Jesus,
'the eschatological order of life of the kingdom of God' and 'the Zion
Torah' are simply synonymous expressions.5 One would agree with
Ulrich Luz when he maintains, contrary to Gese and Stuhlmacher,
2. Gese (Jheologie, p. 76) draws on Ps. 46 as a text which is supposed to
show how the eschatological self-revelation of God is explicated 'as Torah'
(emphasis mine):
In Psalm 46 it is shown how. . . God reveals himself to all the nations on Zion—
taking up the core statement of the Sinai revelation it says: 'Recognize that I am
Yahweh!' (v. 11)—and the eternal state of Shalom is grounded negatively on the
destruction of all weapons of war and positively on the revelation of Yahweh's king-
dom over the world.
4. 'Gesetz', p. 254.
5. *Gesetz\ p. 264.
that Jesus' proclamation and the New Testament message seems in

general to link up with the apocalyptic expectation of a new establishment
of salvation, but Jesus' proclamation of the eschatological will of God or
the New Testament language of the law of Christ and so on does not link
up with the notion (which in our view is not demonstrable in sufficient
clarity) of an eschatological 'Zion Torah'.1
e. The New Testament

Those OT texts which are supposed to form the basis of the Zion
Torah traditions, are precisely not cited in the NT in discussions of
the law. Only the author of Hebrews makes a clear appeal to Jer.
31.31ff. (Heb. 8.7-13; 10.16-18) but only in order to make it clear
that the old is completely and utterly dispensed with. 'The author takes
from the rich content of the text only the one idea that the promise of
a new 8ia9T|Kr| makes the old one obsolete'. 2 The law of the old
covenant as a whole receives the stamp of the 'blameworthy'. In 2
Corinthians 3 Paul draws attention to the 'fleshly heart' of Ezek. 11.19
or 36.26; here he is not yet, however, discussing the problem of the
law but is developing the picture of the Corinthians as a living letter
of recommendation.
In the text that follows (2 Cor. 3.4ff.) he goes over to a comparison
of the old covenant with the new. Whether he has in mind the promise
of the new covenant in Jeremiah 31 is not so obvious as is often
assumed.3 But in any case, it is striking that Paul does not make any
reference at all in this passage to the statements in Jeremiah concern-
ing the Torah. Paul did not take up Jeremiah 31 at all in expounding
his view of the law.
In the paradosis of the eucharist there are echoes of Jeremiah 31. 4 It
implies that 'in this substitutionary offering up of Jesus' life,
Exod. 24.8 and Jer. 31.3Iff. are fulfilled eschatologically'.5 This is
unobjectionable. But Stuhlmacher continues: 'From this point one can
say that in and with Jesus the eschatological order of life of the king-
dom of God, the "Zion Torah", is revealed'. Here 'Zion Torah' is
1. Luz, Gesetz, p. 149 n. 104.

2. H. Windisch, Der Hebrderbrief (HNT; 2nd edn, 1931), ad loc,
3. See Raisanen, Paul and the Law, pp. 240ff.
4. But see C. Wolff, Jeremia im Fruhjudentum und Urchristentum (TU, 118;
1976), pp. 13Iff.
5. Stuhlmacher, 'Gesetz*, p. 264.
understood in very broad terms and no longer has much to do with

the OT passages mentioned.
The other comparable OT passages find no echo at all. But then
what sense is there in the assertion that 'the traditions that refer to the
Zion Torah' are taken as a basis?1
In Gese's sketch NT statements that are critical of the law are
played down throughout. Not even Paul seems to criticize the law as
such; he only rejects 'Pharisaic Torah-piety'.2 Even in Gal. 3.19-20
Paul's argumentation is 'a rejection of Pharisaism that is borne
by the development of the Old Testament tradition itself', for already
the Deuteronomistic tradition distinguished
the decalogue revelation as direct divine revelation from the revelation of
the * details' of the law indirectly through Moses (Deut. 5; cf.
Exod. 20.18-21). . .which corresponds to the Mosaic * angel'-mediation
in Gal. 3.19f.3
But although in Deuteronomy two phases of revelation are indeed

distinguished from one another in temporal terms, the instructions
given 'indirectly' there are regarded as just as binding as the deca-
logue (5.32-33), because Moses (even if only he alone) received them
direct from the mouth of God too (5.31). This direct revelation to
Moses is something quite different from the /ndirect communication
to Moses through angels, which Paul mentions in Gal. 3.19 and which
according to v. 20 is supposed to brand the whole Torah as inferior. It
is particularly clear in this passage how Gese on the one hand tries to
interpret the OT on the basis of NT statements and on the other tries
to interpret the NT from the OT; in both areas the result is equally
forced. Similarly Gese perceives no contradiction between Mt. 5.18
and the antitheses of the Sermon on the Mount.4 In the case of such a

3. Gese, Theologie, p. 83.
4. Cf. Gese, 'Psalm 50', pp. 58, 77; he speaks only of the 'dynamics' of the
concept of the law 'when in the preamble to the new revelation of Torah in
Mt. 5.2Iff. . .in vv. 17ff. the misunderstanding of a relaxation of Torah, even
if just in the slightest degree. . .is rejected' (p. 58). Stuhlmacher's judgment
('Gesetz', p. 268) is quite different. Agreeing with the mainstream of NT research
he posits in Mt. 5.18-19, instead of a genuine saying of Jesus, the voice 'of an early
Christian nomism as represented by the "false brothers" (of Gal. 2.4)'. So
Stuhlmacher too is in fact the object of Gese's criticism:
vague dialectic one wonders what the need is for the notion of a Zion
Torah, when the old one is not dispensed with anyway. Is it intended
simply to underline the fact that the revelation is not yet completed?1
According to Gese Rom. 3.27 (the v6[io<; of faith) and 8.2 (the
vo\io<; of the spirit) refer to the Zion Torah.2 It appears as if this is
also Stuhlmacher's opinion, at least in respect of 3.27, since he writes:
Paul 'certainly does not abrogate the Torah, but sets it up as v6\ioq
niaxtax; (Rom. 3.27-31)'.31 have discussed this exegesis of Rom. 3.27
and 8.2 elsewhere in this book; it does not do justice at all to Paul's
syntax in particular. In these passages too, the break with the old is
emphasized more than the continuity.
Above all, however, Stuhlmacher attaches importance to the phrase
6 vo\ioq xov xpiaTou in Gal. 6.2; he renders it as 'Torah of Christ'.
The meaning is
the Zion Torah, which Jesus brings to the fore by suffering the atoning
death in fulfilment of the Sinai Torah, thereby freeing it from the curse
placed upon it and on the sinners since the fall.4
Through Jesus' atoning death the Sinai Torah is

changed eschatologically and put into effect as an ordering of life. .. As
an ordering of life of the new covenant-'duty' of Jer. 31.3Iff. the
eschatologically changed Torah of Moses is the eschatological Torah of
Zion... 5
All this is pure conjecture. There is not a word of a change in the
Torah in Paul, especially since Rom. 3.27 and 8.2 have to be ruled out
Only those who do not recognize the great dynamism of the revelation-historical path
and assume a completely fossilized, unhistorical concept of the law, cannot understand
that in this last Torah (i.e. in the Sermon on the Mount) every *jot and tittle' has been
preserved, indeed brought to its definitive truth (Theologie, p. 80).
1. Gese (Theologie, p. 81) even dares to make the assertion that in Mk 9.2-8
par. Jesus is represented 'as the Torah itself! Cf. also Stuhlmacher, 'Gesetz',
p. 264.
2. Theologie, p. 82 n. 20.
3. 'Gesetz', p. 275; cf. Versohnung, p. 112. In a recent essay Stuhlmacher
identifies the vouxx; of Rom. 3.27 and 8.2 expressly with the Pentateuch or with the
decalogue ('Paul's Understanding', pp. 97, 103). The 'law of the Spirit'
corresponds to the category of the Zion Torah (p. 100 n. 18).
4. 'Gesetz', p. 273.
5. 'Gesetz', p. 274.
as evidence. And if Gal. 6.2 is really supposed to mean a 'law' of

Christ and we do not have here, as in the other passages, a figurative
use of VOUOQ, which is suggested by the context,1 then at the top of the
list for consideration would be the idea of the instruction of Jesus the
law-giver {yerba Christi)? Perhaps Paul is taking over a Jewish-
Christian catchword3 which was first understood in that sense, but is
reapplying it in the service of his law polemic, predominant through-
out Galatians, so that the 'law' is not really a law at all, but rather
indicates an attitude towards one's fellow human beings. It is certainly
not wise to read into this one expression such a far-reaching salvation-
historical theory, as Stuhlmacher does. If Paul had thought of any-
thing like this when he dictated his letter to the Galatians something of
this theory would surely also have surfaced already in Gal. 3.15-29.
But there the law as a whole, without distinction of any kind, is con-
sidered to be passe. If Paul had thought that the old law was abolished
because it had been changed into a new law by means of its fulfilment
through Christ, it would be incomprehensible that he gives no indica-
tion at all in that passage that this is the case. That would surely have
made his job much easier. He would have had a fully coherent argu-
ment; as things stand, however, he has to fall back on a lame compari-
son with a testament that would logically presuppose the death of
God.4 Matters are similar in Rom. 7.Iff. There Paul has to resort to
an equally warped picture of marriage and of the death of the
husband, apparently precisely because he had no immediately evident
explanation at his disposal for the abolition of the Torah.5 Nor
can Stuhlmacher's theory derive support from the reference to
1 Cor. 9.21.6
1. See Raisanen, Paul and the Law, pp. 79-80 and the literature cited there
(n. 194).
2. Thus, especially, C.H. Dodd; see the discussion in Raisanen, Paul and the
Law, pp. 78ff.
3. Cf. most recently J.L. Martyn, 'A Law-Observant Mission to the Gentiles:
The Background of Galatians', Methodist Quarterly Review 22 (1983), p. 228.
4. Cf. Raisanen, Paul and the Law, p. 129.
5. Cf. Raisanen, Paul and the Law, pp. 61-62.
6. *Gesetz\ p. 273. Cf. Raisanen, Paul and the Law, p. 81.
4. Conclusion
Whether one scrutinizes the theory of the Zion Torah from the point
of view of the OT or the NT evidence, in every case it is faced with
insuperable difficulties. The attempt to erect a biblical theology along
tradition-historical lines is not to be rejected out of hand. But the
attempt discussed here fails because of its tendency to want to demon-
strate at all costs a continuity between OT and NT statements. The OT
statements about the law are artificially interpreted from the view-
point of the NT, and vice versa. The claim to be calling exegetes back
'from the style of a mere "science of suppositions"... to a work of
"historically precise" reconstruction and interpretation',1 appears, in
the light of this sampling at a central point, to be anything but well-
founded. One should not revert to the position behind Gerhard von
Rad's recognition (in my view expressed, if anything, with too much
caution), with which Stuhlmacher wished to find fault:2 'the Old
Testament law sometimes cannot keep pace, on its own account, with
the new Christian interpretation (i.e. in the New Testament)' and
seems 'not to offer up on its own account that which Christian under-
standing derives from it'. 3 The possibility of a real break in the tradi-
tion has to be taken seriously. There is no avoiding the fact that
theological problems arise in view of the NT assertions that Jesus
Christ is the fulfilment of the law and the prophets, or that in the final
analysis Paul re-establishes the law.
1. Thus Stuhlmacher, 'Zum Thema: Biblische Theologie des Neuen Testaments',

in K. Haacker (ed.), Biblische Theologie heute (Biblisch-Theologische Studien, 1;
1977), p. 31.
2. 'Gesetz', p. 253.
3. Von Rad, Theologie des Alten Testaments, II, p. 434.
Chapter 10
THE LAW AS A THEME OF 'NEW TESTAMENT THEOLOGY'
1. Introduction
One's general idea of what 'New Testament theology' is all about will
affect one's view of how any given theme should be treated in such a
synthesis. My use of quotation marks alludes to a particular position in
that discussion. As early as 1897 William Wrede spoke programmati-
cally of a 'so-called New Testament theology', declaring the tradi-
tional title to be a misnomer.1 The kind of synthesis he had in mind
was not to deal with the NT alone, nor was its subject-matter properly
called theology. An appropriate designation would be 'history of early
Christian religion and theology'.2
It is my conviction that Wrede was right and that a synthesis of
early Christian thought, rather than of NT theology proper, is called
for.3 The outstanding features of such a work would include the
following:
1. It is not written in a church context (although it may, and
hopefully will, be used by people engaged in the churches),
but has a larger audience in view.
2. It is not limited to canonical writings.
3. It does not aim at religious proclamation, but at under-
standing the phenomena at hand.
4. It does not aim at a specifically theological evaluation, or at
normative results. The perspective will be that of history of
religions, or Geistesgeschichte. Yet the project is not hostile
1. W. Wrede, 'The Task and Methods of "New Testament Theology'", in

R. Morgan, The Nature of New Testament Theology (1973), pp. 68-116.
2. Task and Methods', p. 116.
3. I argue this at length in Beyond New Testament Theology (1990).
10. The Law as a Theme of 'New Testament Theology' 253
toward theological or philosophical evaluation either. The

historical material is presented in such a way that those inter-
ested in contemporizing interpretations (whether positive or
negative) can profit from it.
5. Religious ideas will not be treated as 'doctrinal concepts', but
as expressions of life. They will be viewed in connection with
historical and sociological realities and explained in terms of
the interplay between tradition, experience and interpretation.
6. The synthesis will focus on the great lines in the development
of traditions, trying to see the wood for the trees. Individual
early Christian writers are rarely of particular interest.
The startling thing is that such a synthesis has never been attempted.
Wrede sketched it in the barest outline, but he died before being able
to carry out his programme. Members of the history-of-religions
school subscribed to the programme, but it was eclipsed by the rise of
dialectical theology. History of religion then prematurely gave way to
a pronouncedly theological exegesis, even in the work of those who
were themselves historians of religion, such as Bultmann.
A good century before Wrede sketched his programme, J.P. Gabler
had in a famous speech made a distinction between the exegetical and
the dogmatic tasks in the study of Scripture. Subsequently he distin-
guished between 'true' and 'pure' biblical theology—we might say,
between historical reconstruction and contemporizing interpretation.
It was Gabler's intention that these two tasks be kept apart, or assigned
to different stages in the work: first set out the facts, then sort out by
way of 'philosophical criticism' those parts that are of lasting signifi-
cance. The programme did not, however, materialize.1
Both F.C. Baur and HJ. Holtzmann had theological criteria built
into their apparently historical constructions. The simple teaching of
Jesus provided the yardstick by which everything else could be mea-
sured. Dialectical theology changed the yardstick but not the structure
of the enterprise. Now the supreme criterion was no longer the histor-
ical Jesus, but a distillation from Paul—the inmost intentions of the
apostle.
Recent scholars have produced syntheses that are supposed to be
historical and normative at the same time, without spelling out how
1. On the significance of Gabler's distinction, see H. Boers, What Is New

Testament Theologyl (1979).
normativity is to be maintained in view of the variety found in the

NT. Alternatively, one tries to establish a normative core in the
allegedly common ideas of the earlier strata of the NT.
How, then, is the theme of the law treated in twentieth century
syntheses?
2. The Law in Leading Syntheses of New Testament Theology

a. HJ. Holtzmann
Despite occasional praise, Holtzmann's classic work from the turn of
the century1 is hardly read to-day. This is unfortunate, for the work
has merit; it will be helpful to pay attention to his discussion of the
law in the NT in some detail.
Holtzmann's work marks the end of an era, being the mature
synthesis of liberal exegesis. Holtzmann conceived it as his task to set
out the 'doctrinal concepts' found in the NT. The NT 'doctrines' are
not to be artificially harmonized; justice must be done to their rich
diversity. More important than the doctrines are the underlying
experiences, of which the doctrines are but more or less (mostly less!)
successful interpretations.
The proclamation of Jesus witnesses to his very particular
experience of God. This proclamation is interpreted by Holtzmann in
an idealistic way, whereby he is anxious to distinguish between centre
and periphery, or the core and the husk.
Although Holtzmann did not identify himself with the history-of-
religions school, he was quite open toward it. Indeed he broke new
ground in opening his NT theology with a comprehensive chapter on
the Jewish religion. That this does little justice to Judaism is another
matter, and a characteristic of the whole era.
Holtzmann draws a desolate picture of the role of the law in
Judaism (I, pp. 74-85). 'Late Judaism' was a cruel and unfruitful
religion, based on fear, characterized by a thoroughly commercial
attitude toward God. No wonder a need for a new religion was deeply
felt. It is Jesus' relation to this legalism (I, pp. 182-88) that serves as
the starting-point for Holtzmann's account of his proclamation (rather
1. HJ. Holtzmann, Lehrbuch der neutestamentlichen Theologie (2 vols.; 2nd

edn, 1911). In this and the following sections page references to scholars' works
will be given within the text rather than as footnotes.
than, for example, his teaching of the Kingdom or of the Father).

Jesus never rejected the law, however. In proclaiming his gospel to
the poor and the outcast1 he followed the instinct of his conscience
and, perhaps to his own surprise, eventually found himself against his
will in a tension against the law (I, p. 190). Yet what he opposed (or
thought he opposed) was not the law itself, but its traditional
observance. The binding authority of the God-given law remained his
permanent premiss (Mt. 5.18). Yet his opposition to the legal practice
hid in itself a latent contrast to the letter of the law itself, as
Mk 7.15ff. shows. Jesus thus had an oscillating stance which accounts
for the divided development in the early church (I, pp. 204-208).
Such 'antinomies' are a reality not to be explained away (I, p. 406).
That Jesus did not set up a programme of formally abrogating the
Mosaic Law is due to the historical limitations of his accomplishment
(I, p. 210). Holtzmann implies that such a radical conclusion would
have been the logical consequence of Jesus' universalistic-human
tendency,2 but it was left to Paul to draw the conclusion (I, p. 209).
In the early church an oscillating stance toward the law was pre-
served. At first, the old nationally limited attitude regained dominion.
A more liberal stance was taken by the Hellenists (I, pp. 464-65).
Radical developments in the Gentile mission, when Paul declared faith
and law to be irreconcilable opposites and proceeded to free even
born Jews from their obligations to the law, forced the conservatives
to relapse into a legalist position (I, pp. 465-68).
Paul, while acting in the free spirit of Jesus, systematized in his
teaching his own experience of the law (II, p. 30). Holtzmann shares
the old theory that Paul suffered under the obligations of the law
which he was unable to fulfil. Holtzmann points out in Paul a contra-
diction between a negative ('Gnosticizing') and a positive (Jewish)
assessment of the law (II, pp. 36-37). The notion that the law itself
testifies to its own abolishment is an anomaly which Paul tries to make
tolerable by way of an 'Alexandrian' hermeneutic (II, pp. 37-40). His
1. Holtzmann (Lehrbuch, I, pp. 184ff.) assumes that observance of the law

tended to be an unbearable economic burden so that one had to be rich to be able to
observe it properly.
2. Holtzmann thinks that the national limitations of Jesus' message (the tradi-
tional loyalty to the law, but also the inherited notion of a supernatural future king-
dom of God) gradually gave way to a universalistically conceived vision; yet the
latter did not replace the former but the different elements coexisted side by side.
artificial attempts to bring himself into harmony with himself reveal

that he was engaged in a mental struggle, both combatting his own
past and at the same time trying to come to terms with it (II, p. 72).
Paul's doctrine of justification amounts to a sharp break with the
'contractual' Pharisaic religiosity. Yet this very piety enters through
the backdoor when Paul describes the unearned justification of the
believer with the help of juridical concepts and pictures (the impu-
tation of righteousness, II, pp. 145-46; cf. p. 245).
All in all, Paul's theology is just an attempted theory to his experi-
ence. Its permanent value consists in religious and moral insight (II,
pp. 256-62). Paul's thoughts were far too idiosyncratic to penetrate
into the general Christian consciousness, to which Matthew's simple
juxtaposition of the old and the new made far more sense (II, p. 239).
Matthew's view of the law is lucidly treated by Holtzmann in some
detail (I, pp. 497-506). He recognizes both Matthew's significance for
future developments and the problems he is involved in. Matthew's
stance is ambiguous, as internal discrepancies within the program-
matic section 5.17-48 show. 'Fulfilling' the law (v. 17) seems to mean
setting out its true intentions, its 'ideal contents' liberated from the
temporary and thus inadequate form. This is actually done in vv. 21-
48. This move, however, is bluntly contradicted by vv. 18 and 19.
Matthew's unclarity, which he himself does not realise, as the practical
purpose of his train of thought manages to conceal its 'internal impos-
sibility' (I, p. 505), corresponds to his position in the movement of
early Christian thought.1 Matthew's ambiguity is a consequence of the
oscillating stance of Jesus himself (I, p. 512).
Post-Pauline Gentile Christians could not understand Paul's thought
(I, pp. 566-69). Not knowing from personal experience the yoke of
the law (I, p. 567; II, p. 295), they took over the net result, Paul's
universalism, but not his arguments. No one realized any longer that
the law had only been given in order to increase sin. Luke, for
instance, could not combine his respect for the religio antiqua with
1. Matthew underlines 'Israel's national prerogative and the principle of the law'
against Paulinism and antinomism, but he also confronts Jews and Judaists with the
demand of internalizing the law, and claims that Jews have lost their position to
Gentiles (pp. 514-15). He wants to represent a progressive and universalistic form
of Jewish Christianity.
Matthew anticipates nascent Catholicism, the favourite book of which his Gospel
was to become by virtue of its setting itself above the extremes (pp. 512-515).
Paul's notion of Christ as the termination of the law; the traditions

about Jesus' free attitude to the law were by-passed by him insofar as
they are of interest only to Jews (I, pp. 529-30). When one no longer
had an intimate relation to Judaism, the OT became just a book of
oracles and of moral instruction.
Catholic Christianity, then, became a moralistic and legalistic
religion with its own 'new law'. This new legalism does not in itself
stem from Jewish Christianity. Rather, it is a universal human feature.
Gentile Christians brought from their own past a need for a normative
divine authority as well as a morality affected by Stoicism. In the
moral instructions of the OT they recognized their own convictions.
Holtzmann thus acknowledged internal problems at all stages of the
development: a tension within the stance of Jesus; contradictions
between a more positive and a more negative attitude to the law both
in Paul and in Matthew. He also offers shrewd comments on various
other writings.1 The reader is given, in various connections, materials
for an intelligible overall picture2 of problems connected with the
law.3 The divergent views of the law are explained in connection with
the different experiences of the different groups.
What remains problematic in this fine presentation is Holtzmann's
starting-point, the perverted view of Jewish nomism. As 'late Judaism'
is seen as an oppressive force from which it was necessary and
desirable to become liberated, the conflict over the law is, in the end,
trivialized.4
1. See his comments on Acts, especially on its picture of Paul (Lehrbuch, I,

pp. 532-36); Revelation (Lehrbuchy I, pp. 541-42); the Pastorals (Lehrbuch, II,
pp. 295-96); James (Lehrbuch, II, pp. 384-85).
2. Holtzmann is sometimes criticized for an atomistic method (cf., e.g.,
W.G. Kiimmel, The New Testament [1973], p. 192), but this criticism is overdone.
My summary of Holtzmann's treatment of the law should indicate that at least in
some parts of his work an intelligible overall picture does emerge. Wrede agreed that
the last parts of the first volume (with which we are dealing here) are 'the most
valuable' in the book (Task and Methods', p. 189 n. 40).
3. The picture is to some extent obscured by the organization of the work (the
early church, including Matthew, is dealt with in vol. I, whereas Paul is not dis-
cussed until in vol. II).
4. Judaism is measured with a different yardstick than is the proclamation of
Jesus. The former is condemned for its focus on the idea of reward. The concept of
reward also looms large in the teaching of Jesus, as Holtzmann admits; but the large
amount of relevant places are neutralized by a reference to the one parable (Mt. 20.
b. Rudolf Bultmann
While taking up the legacy of liberal exegesis and the history-of-
religions school, Bultmann1 tries to dissociate himself from his prede-
cessors. Whereas they understood theological teachings as 'subsequent
reflective thinking about the objects of faith', Bultmann views such
teachings as 'the unfolding of believing self-comprehension' (II,
pp. 246-47, 251). Yet in practice Bultmann is no less than his prede-
cessors concerned to separate the kernel from the husk, or the
'concern' (Sache) of the New Testament from its time-bound ideas.
Holtzmann found the kernel in religious-ethical insight; Bultmann
finds it in believing self-understanding.
In accordance with the liberal tradition, Bultmann states that Jesus'
message is 'a great protest against Jewish legalism' which endeavours
to win God's favour by scrupulously fulfilling the stipulations of his
law (I, p. 11). Still, Jesus shares the view that 'God does reward
faithful obedience'. His words are not without self-contradiction, but
the motive of reward is only a primitive expression of Jesus' real idea:
'in what a man does his own real being is at stake' (I, p. 15).
Bultmann thus distinguishes in a good liberal fashion between Jesus'
actual words and his real intention. A polemical rejection of the
authority of the law by Jesus is excluded, however, as the course taken
later by the church shows (I, p. 16). But 'actually the OT legislation,
so far as it consists of cultic and ritual prescriptions, has been lifted
off its hinges by Jesus' who 'attacks legalistic ritualism' (I, p. 17) and
regards the laws of purity as 'meaningless' (I, p. 18); what God really
demands is love (I, p. 18).
Bultmann considers the earliest church's attitude toward the law in
connection with the question of what the consciousness of being 'true
Israel' meant. He evaluates that attitude from an emphatically
Christian theological point of view:
How far is 'Israel'... understood as meaning an absolutely eschatologi-
cal entity... ? Will the earliest Church eliminate from the idea of
the Chosen People whatever applies only to the historical people?' (I,
pp. 53-54).
Is the law still regarded as binding? Is obedience to it the condition
for salvation?
1-16) which depicts reward as a 'reward of grace' (Lehrbuch, I, p. 261).

1. Theology of the New Testament (1951-55).
The early church at first displayed 'a relative liberty toward the
cultic-ritual demands of the Law' (I, p. 54), although the idea that the
law is abolished was still foreign to it (I, p. 43). Bultmann assumes
(in accordance with Holtzmann) a gradual 'retrogression' as 'the
conclusions drawn by the Hellenists were terrifying' (I, p. 54). The
resulting 'lack of certainty and clarity' was heightened by the con-
sideration that the law was 'not merely the way to salvation, and its
fulfilment had not merely the character of meritorious accomplish-
ment', but 'it was also the gift of God which gave the Chosen People
its rank and dignity'. However much the congregation had 'broken
with the Jewish idea of merit, it clung to the Law as a characteristic of
the Chosen People which it was conscious of embodying' (I, p. 55).
Clearly Bultmann implies that such acceptance of the best Jewish
legacy was a shortcoming in the church's thought.
In discussing the self-understanding of Hellenistic Christianity,
which had taken over the OT but at the same time denied the validity
of the law for Christians, Bultmann outlines various possibilities to
come to terms with the law. After a comprehensive discussion of
radical Gnosticism, Hebrews, 1 Clement, Barnabas, Ptolemy and
Justin, he presents the following range of possibilities.
1. The OT law is regarded as abolished so far as it contains
cultic-ritual demands; the latter are regarded as allegory or
prediction. This means a 'complete abolition of cult and
ritual as the way to salvation' (I, p. 115). Bultmann then
moves to the theological question, 'will this position of non-
cultic worship be consistently maintained?'
2. The entire OT is regarded as a book of predictions. Then the
theological question is, is a faith in the letter thus put in place
of genuine faith? (I, p. 117).
3. The ethical commands remain valid (except in radical
Gnosticism). Here a danger lurks: is the relation between
God's demanding will and his grace correctly understood?
(I, p. 119).
For Bultmann the problem with the Hellenistic notions is, how can
Christian theology stay on the Pauline level? He first outlines the
options in a neutral way, but then immediately moves on to theologi-
cal evaluation. In describing the options he can be quite critical of
problems implicit in them. For example, he asks regarding Hebrews,
for which the OT laws are prediction, why all this prefiguration of
Christ's deed, wholly incomprehensible at the time when it was in
force, should have been instituted at all (I, p. 111).
By contrast, Bultmann's analysis of Paul's view of the law hardly
includes critical questions at all. In this regard his presentation differs
markedly from that of Holtzmann.1 For Bultmann, Paul constitutes—
along with John—the heart of NT theology. Paul's theology of the law
is set forth as a unified doctrine. His failure to differentiate between
the cultic-ritual and the ethical demands of the law shows that 'in faith
itself an unconsciously-working principle of criticism is provided' (I,
p. 261)—the unclarity is interpreted in bonam partem. However
radically the law is abolished for the man of faith, 'it is not to be
inferred that it does not contain God's obligatory demand' (I, p. 261).
The demands of the law are still valid for the Christian (for the agape
demanded of him is the fulfilment of the law, I, p. 262). Yet man is
not even intended to achieve salvation by works of the law (I, p. 263).
For man's effort to achieve his salvation by keeping the law is already
sin (I, p. 264).
It is Paul's insight into the nature of sin that determines his teaching
on the law. Sin is man's self-powered striving to undergird his own
existence, 'boasting'. Man is always already a sinner, involved in a
falsely oriented understanding of his existence (I, p. 264). The law
brings to light that man is sinful; more, it leads him into sin—and this
is God's intention (I, p. 265). 'The ultimate purpose of the law is to
lead man to death and thereby to let God appear as G o d . . . '
(I, p. 267). The law remains in effect as the 'law of Christ'! It is kept
in love, and 'now for the first time its real intention comes to
fulfilment: God has removed the powerlessness of the Law'.
Bultmann thus assimilates everything into a rounded picture. He
does not treat Paul in the same way as he treats the author of Hebrews,
to whom he directs uncomfortable questions.2 Instead of asking Paul
1. By contrast, his analysis of Hellenistic Christianity resembles Holtzmann's

chapter on the 'theological problems of the early church' at the end of the latter's first
volume. The main difference is that Bultmann makes fuller use of non-canonical
materials.
2. In analogy (to p. 112) he could have asked Paul, 'Why did God give
a law which was meant to lead to death, a purpose which no one could understand
before the time of Christ? Or, why did God give a weak law?' Bultmann does
comment, however, on the train of thought in Rom. 5. 12ff., where *Paul gets
questions, he lets him supply the answers and set the standard.
Nevertheless, a few passages suggest that there might have been
some quite critical questions to ask, had Bultmann not chosen to sup-
press them. Toward the end of the chapter on the law he suggests—in
small print—that
the difference between the Law as the eternal will of God and the Law that
is abolished is expressed to a certain degree (!) in Paul's terminology, in
which frequently the Law as abolished by Christ figures as the Law of
Moses.
The latter is the Law that 'intervened' (Rom. 5.20); the Law of Moses
is not attributed to God himself according to Gal. 3.19-20 (I, p. 268).
This is a truly surprising distinction, for so far Bultmann, interpreting
Paul, has clearly identified that law which is ' radically abolished for
the man of faith' with that which contains God's obligatory demand
(I, p. 261).l To introduce, as an afterthought, a distinction between a
divine and a less divine law amounts to a serious challenge to the
preceding discussion. It is a tacit admission that everything is not so
smooth in Paul's theology of the law after all.2
Bultmann does not seriously consider what justification there might
have been for the opposition to Paul.3
It is a weakness compared with Holtzmann's book that the Synoptic
Gospels receive no independent treatment at all. Thus there is no
discussion of the significance of Matthew's view of the law.
The crucial problem with Bultmann's treatment of the law is, as in
Holtzmann's case, his biased view of Jewish nomism.
into obscurity' {Theology, I, p. 252).

1. Rom. 5.20 was referred to when Bultmann was speaking of God's intention
in connection with the law (Theology, I, p. 265).
2. It is also striking that Bultmann can at a later juncture state that Christ is the
end of the law 'so far as it claimed to be the way to salvation or was understood by
man as the means of establishing "his own righteousness'" (Theology, I, p. 341).
Is there then no difference between what the law itself claims and what men may
understand it to mean?
3. He notes that a Jew would contradict Paul's basic assertions (Theology, I,
p. 263) but makes no comment except that he repeats Paul's 'decisive thesis'.
c. Hans Conzelmann
Conzelmann1 wants to offer theological students a slightly amended
version of Bultmann's NT theology, but he wants to stress the histori-
cal component (as distinct from actualizing interpretation) somewhat
more. His book is an advance over Bultmann on several points
connected with the law.
The depiction of Judaism is less extreme. The law is not the sum of
prescriptions, but God's guidance, a sign for Israel's election. It is a
joy (p. 23). Yet Conzelmann criticizes nomistic piety for casuistry.
The law, moreover, leaves open the possibility to do extra works and
thus to gain merits. Thus it is perverted and becomes a means for man
to stand before God through accomplishments (p. 24).
Conzelmann shares the view that what Jesus criticized was not the
law but formal obedience.2 Unlike Bultmann, he does devote a chapter
to the Synoptics; astonishingly, however, they are discussed before
Paul so that no adequate historical picture can emerge. Matthew's
view of the law is treated as unitary; Conzelmann's discussion lacks
Holtzmann's critical acumen. Matthew is concerned that the law be
interpreted through the love command (p. 156); Conzelmann defends
him against accusations of legalism.
Paul attacks the law in its capacity of a way to salvation (p. 170).
Conzelmann distinguishes, however, sharply between Paul's salvation-
historical notions and his inmost theological intentions (pp. 245-54).
Bultmann was keen on making the same distinction—but not in
speaking of Paul's teaching on the law! Conzelmann lists a number of
contradictions which render Paul's teaching on the law absurd, were it
taken as an 'objectified' doctrine. What is the relation between the
purpose of the law and its alleged effects (it was given for life, but
effects death)? Does Paul not outline a meaningless theory, when he
states that the law was weak? What kind of god is he who reveals his
will but is unable to carry it through? Paul's teaching is only compre-
hensible as a theological interpretation which shows where humanity
stands without the gospel.3
1. H. Conzelmann, Grundriss der Theologie des Neuen Testaments (1987).

2. Surprisingly, there is no reference to Mk 7.15ff. in the whole book.
3. Likewise G. Klein, 'Gesetz III. Neues Testament', TRE, XIII, p. 66.
Yet after presenting his sharp criticism of Paul's thought,

Conzelmann resorts to an apologetical manoeuvre. Paul's arguments
are complicated,
but it must be asked whether their complexity is not appropriate. The
gospel is not complicated, but my position is; it is therefore difficult to
understand it in terms of thought (pp. 253-54).
A theological virtue is made out of historical necessity.

Historical exegesis, as opposed to Conzelmann's theological dialec-
tic, must somehow come to grips with the complexity in Paul's posi-
tion. A historical account of early Christian thought is bound to trace
the development precisely in terms of the 'salvation-historical' or
* objectified' theories, however inconvenient these may seem from a
modern point of view.
In Conzelmann's account of post-Pauline development, the law is
not singled out for discussion.
d. Other Recent New Testament Theologies

More recent NT theologies can be dealt with briefly. Eduard Lohse1
states that Jesus was not against the law, albeit opposing casuistry and
hypocrisy (pp. 23, 32).2 The problem of the law was taken up by the
Stephen group, and convincingly solved by Paul (pp. 63, 145). Lohse
puts forward no immanent criticisms of Paul's presentation. He is the
first to treat the Synoptics in their proper place—after Paul—in a NT
theology, but his brief passage on Matthew's view of the law contains
no critical observations.
As W.G. Kiimmel3 only deals with Jesus, Paul and John, the
possibility of a historically intelligible overall picture is precluded at
the outset. A tension between Jesus' principles and his actions is noted
(p. 46). Paul is presented without asking critical questions (pp. 162-
65, 169-71).4 Although Paul goes further than Jesus in stating that it
was the purpose of the law to bring men deeper into sin, he has drawn
the proper conclusions from Jesus' teaching. This apologetical result is
1. E. Lohse, Grundriss der neutestamentlichen Theologie (1974).

2. Lohse seems to ascribe even Mk 7.18-21 to Jesus (Grundriss, p. 32). But is
not this section clearly directed against the Law itself?
3. W.G. Kiimmel, Die Theologie des Neuen Testaments (1969).
4. Apart from the comment that Rom. 5.13-14 is an incomprehensible
secondary thought.
reached by way of a harmonizing exegesis. 1

Leonhard Goppelt's work2 remains fragmentary: there is no section
on the law in his chapter on Paul. Jesus annuls the levitical statutes of
purity eschatologically and transgresses the Sabbath—without doing
away with it. Jesus' teaching surpasses the apodictic commands on one
hand and opposes the legal sentences on the other. Goppelt tries to find
paradoxical formulae to account for this ambiguity. Jesus fulfils the
law eschatologically in surpassing it through his interpretation, but the
law remains in force as long as this age persists.
It is to Goppelt's merit that the views of the law of several post-
Pauline authors are discussed in the proper place, toward the end of
the work.3 He is the first author of a NT Theology since Holtzmann
to include comments on Luke's view of the law. Matthew's internal
problems are not recognized. 4
3. Evaluation
Although it is no compliment to the discipline, it must be said that
Holtzmann's presentation of problems of the law is, on the whole, still
the best to be found in a synthesis of 'New Testament Theology'! He is
the only author of such a work to have sketched an intelligible overall
1. Jesus' critique of some demands of the law (Mk 10.5-6 par; Mk 7.1 Off. par;
Mt. 5.33ff.) also leads to the consequence that a strict observance of such commands
becomes a transgression of God's will (although Jesus is here demanding a stricter
interpretation of these demands than the law requires!) Mk 10.17ff. is taken to teach
that a man's claim that he has fulfilled the law correctly makes him deaf to a true
hearing of God's command (Kiimmel, Theologie, p. 222).
2. L. Goppelt, Theologie des Neuen Testaments (3rd edn, 1978).
3. See Goppelt, Theologie, pp. 533-38 on James, pp. 556-61 (Matthew),
pp. 589-90 (Hebrews), pp. 622-23 (Luke).
4. In many ways, J.D.G. Dunn's Unity and Diversity in the New Testament
(2nd edn, 1990) is comparable to a New Testament Theology. Dunn deals with the
law explicitly only in his paragraph on 'Jewish Christianity within the New
Testament: Adherence to the Law' (pp. 245-52). The attitude of Jewish Christians as
reflected in Matthew and James contrasts with the Pauline view (p. 246). Dunn
shows at some length how, for Matthew, 'the law as "realized" by Jesus retains an
unconditional validity for those who belong to the kingdom of heaven' (p. 246). But
no inner-Matthaean problems are recognized. James belongs to the same stream
(p. 251), yet he only attacks a 'Pauline slogan out of context, not Paul himself
(p. 252).
picture. Bultmann does give an admirable account of the law in

Hellenistic Christianity, but his approach is vitiated by his overly theo-
logical treatment of Paul.1 The tension between a religio-historical
and a theological approach, latent in Bultmann's work, comes to a
striking expression in Conzelmann: if objectified (i.e. studied in terms
of history-of-religions), Paul's ideas are nonsensical; if not (i.e. if
interpreted theologically), they can be seen as carriers of the pro-
foundest religious truth. Over against this use of double standards,
Holtzmann's view of Paul as idiosyncratic is not without merit. And
Holtzmann's starting-point, his interpretation of, say, Paul's views of
the law as a set of secondary theories to Paul's underlying funda-
mental experience, is one of those fruitful liberal insights that were
largely lost in the upsurge of dialectical theology and still yearn for
rediscovery.
The issue whether Paul should be seen as normative, or whether
critical questions should be put to him with full rigour, is a watershed,
which distinguishes a confessional-theological approach from a history-
of-religions one.2 If the latter course is chosen, as I think it should,
Paul's thought inevitably seems to be beset with a number of problems.
Holtzmann represents a stage in the history of scholarship, in which
the allegedly (implicitly) critical stance of Jesus to the law was taken
as a norm. In the works of Bultmann and his school, this norm is
replaced with a distillation of Paul's view, although Jesus is also
understood to be a precursor of Paul's view. Gradually, scholarship
has come to view Jesus as a radical who was about to reject the law
altogether.3
All this has to be reassessed. Our picture of Judaism is undergoing
great changes; so are our views of Jesus and Paul. Jesus appears today
more conservative than used to be thought, Paul's thought is admitted
to contain problematic features. A new overall picture is much needed.
An individual point of some consequence is the observation that
very limited use has so far been made in 'New Testament theologies'
of redaction criticism in general and of its application to the law in
1. And, of course, of John! But the issue * John and the law' does not come into
Bultmann's view at all.
2. This is clearly seen by D. Zeller, 'Zur neueren Diskussion uber das Gesetz
bei Paulus', TP 62 (1987), pp. 481-99 (497).
3. Thus still, e.g., Klein, 'Gesetz', pp. 59-60.
particular. It is imperative to close this strange gap between special

studies and syntheses. Recent Gospel research helps to illuminate the
thought of the Evangelists substantially. Matthew's thought on the law
has been the subject of intense scholarship for more than a quarter of
a century. By contrast, interest in Luke's particular view of the law is
of a recent origin. The same applies to the Fourth Gospel, and the first
redaction-critical analysis of 'Mark and the Law' has only recently
seen the light of day.1
4. Relevant New Factors

Two advances of recent research in particular must be integrated in
future syntheses: first, the new appraisal of Judaism as 'covenantal
nomism'; secondly, the introduction of interpretive categories from
sociology of knowledge.
a. The New Appraisal of Judaism

The traditional Christian picture of Judaism has gradually been recog-
nized as a caricature. The new trend2 culminated in E.P. Sanders's
work of 1977 and has since then ceased to be a minority position,
except perhaps in Germany.3 'Covenantal nomism' has become a
standard catchword to denote the perception of Judaism as a religion
in which the 'imperative' of the law is based on the 'indicative' of
God's covenant with his people. While other aspects of Sanders's dis-
cussion of Judaism have been challenged (whether justly or unjustly),
this central feature has been acknowledged even by his most vehement
critic.4 It should be added, however, that the 'indicative' is not always
set forth in covenantal categories; it can also be described as the
priority of God's benevolent order of creation over the law. The law
embodies the order of creation and is obeyed 'only as a response, but
not as an achievement'.5
There is no need to elaborate this point further. Suffice it to say that
this reappraisal of Judaism forces one to reconsider thoroughly the
1. H. Sariola, Markus und das Gesetz (1990).

2. For references, see my Paul and the Law (2nd edn, 1987), pp. 165-66.
3. E.P. Sanders, Paul and Palestinian Judaism (1977).
4. See J. Neusner's explicit endorsement of 'covenantal nomism', above
pp. 38-39.
5. M. Limbeck, Die Ordnung des Hells (1971), p. 173.
issues of Jesus' and Paul's attitude to the law. It is no longer self-

evident that Jewish nomism was a phenomenon, the replacement of
which was something obviously desirable (as it was described both by
Holtzmann and by Bultmann). Moreover, a fair assessment of Judaism
necessitates a reappraisal of conservative Christian attitudes to the law,
including that of Paul's conservative opponents, or that of James.
When Paul's theology of the law is studied as part of a process in
which each side had a point, a more realistic view of that theology
with its strengths and weaknesses becomes possible.
b. Legitimation
Another factor capable of changing traditional pictures of the law is
the use of sociology of knowledge in biblical scholarship. The contri-
bution of Peter Berger and Thomas Luckmann1 has already influenced
exegesis for some time. An increasing awareness of the social role of
the law and the part played by legitimation in the conflicts around the
law will bring important nuances into our perception of these issues.
The issue of legitimation is taken up in a creative way by P.F. Esler
in his treatment of the question of law in Luke.2 Drawing on Berger
and Luckmann, he defines legitimation as 'the collection of ways
in which an institution is explained and justified to its members'
(pp. 16-17).
Even in thefirstgeneration3 adult members of the new order will need to
have it explained and justified to them, especially where they have some
residual allegiance to the old order, or where their new position exposes
them to pressures which might make their loyalty waver.4
'The integrative purpose and function of legitimation' is most clearly

seen in 'the "symbolic universe" fashioned for a new social order by
its legitimators'.5
1. P. Berger and T. Luckmann, The Social Construction of Reality (1967).

2. P.F. Esler, Community and Gospel in Luke-Acts (1987).
3. Berger and Luckmann focus on the second generation.
4. Esler (Community and Gospel, pp. 17-18) gives historical examples which
include the Res gestae Divi Augusti, in which Octavianus left a permanent record of
his achievements in such a way as to legitimate the new political order he had
bestowed on Rome.
5. * Symbolic universe' denotes a body of theoretical tradition which integrates
different provinces of meaning and encompasses the institutional order in a symbolic
A particularly common characteristic of any symbolic universe

erected to legitimate a new social order is 'the claim that it is not
novel, but is actually old and traditional' (p. 19).l Luke's unique
presentation of his material constitutes a symbolic universe designed
to legitimate for the Christians of his community the new movement
of which they were members (p. 46). Luke legitimates Jewish-Gentile
table-fellowship by rewriting the history of early Christianity relating
to this subject. He thereby assigns to Peter, James and the church in
Jerusalem exactly the opposite roles to those which in fact they played
(p. 107)!
The approach which Esler applies to Luke can be applied to other
writers as well. Matthew, Mark, John or Paul can be seen engaged in
legitimating steps taken in their communities. Precisely the tension
between a novel liberal practice (which signals an actual break with
the sacred tradition or the old symbolic universe) and a verbally
conservative ideology (which stresses continuity with the old) leads,
not just Luke, but even Paul into difficulty.2 Legitimation, however, is
not always a very conscious process. On the contrary, it often happens
that the new and the old are half-ônsciously assimilated. Attributes of
the old law are self-evidently applied to the new ethos that has in fact
replaced the old, but the phenomenon is never admitted, let alone
analysed. The new is spoken of as if it were identical with the old.3
totality (Berger and Luckmann, Social Construction, p. 114). 'Symbolic' denotes

reference to realities other than those of everyday experience (Social Construction,
p. 113).
1. Examples, including the Res Gestae: Esler, Community and Gospel, p. 20.
2. I have argued for this way of seeing Paul's situation without using the precise
terminology that Esler takes from the social sciences; see above, Chapter 5. Instead
of 'legitimation', I have spoken of 'secondary rationalization' (Paul and the Law,
p. 201) which may be seen as a form of legitimation. To be sure, one can by way of
rationalization also legitimate a decision for oneself, not just for a group. Cf.
G. Theissen, Psychologische Aspekte paulinischer Theologie (1983).
3. This device is isolated as a feature of Matthew's redaction by K. Syreeni, The
Making of the Sermon on the Mount (1987), I, p. 241 (index). Syreeni (p. 219)
singles out the following:
sweeping terms such as plerosai and dikaiosyne are used to hold Jewish and Christian
traits together, with inclusions created having tacit shifts in meaning (5.17-7.12: from
'the law and prophets' to the sum of Jesus' radical ethic, similarly in the composition
of the whole Gospel 1.23-28.20: from Israel to the Church).
10. The Law as a Theme of 'New Testament Theology* 269
5. Law in 'New Testament Theology': A Thumbnail Sketch

a. Jewish Covenantal Nomism
The discussion of the law in early Christianity will have to start with
an account of Jewish nomistic piety. Holtzmann and Conzelmann had
the right starting-point, albeit a false perception of Judaism.
At this point it will be important to emphasize that, while the Torah
was the ideological centre for the Jewish symbolic universe, its appli-
cation varied greatly. It is imperative to pay attention to the actual
freedom toward the wording of the OT Torah displayed in many
circles. The case is argued by K. Muller.1 The commands of the
Torah could be replaced or implemented with others that made the
law now easier, now more difficult to observe.2 Such novelties were
presented as God-given revelation from Sinai.3 Miiller explains this as
stemming from a specific notion of revelation which includes the
ongoing interpretive efforts of the human partner.4
Miiller rightly concludes that it is methodologically unsound to
claim that Jesus expressed a unique claim in modifying the wording of
the Torah.5
1. *Gesetz und Gesetzeserfullung im Friihjudentum', in K. Kertelge (ed.), Das

Gesetz im NT (1986), pp. 11-27. Along similar lines now also P.S. Alexander,
'Jewish Law in the Time of Jesus: Towards a Clarification of the Problem', in
B. Lindars (ed.), Law and Religion (1988), pp. 44-58.
2. Easier: allowance of fight on the Sabbath, Miiller, 'Gesetz', pp. 15-16. More
difficult: extra restrictions as regards marriage partners, 'Gesetz', pp. 13-14. Some-
times commands were introduced that had no basis in the Torah, but were based on
pagan legislation (the prohibition of mocking pagan gods: 'Gesetz', p. 18).
3. Miiller, 'Gesetz', p. 20. Josephus (Ant. 14.63) calls the Maccabaean
halakhah on fighting on the Sabbath 'the law' (Muller, 'Gesetz', p. 16). Both
Jubilees and the Temple Scroll of Qumran follow the example of Deuteronomy in
letting God reveal the new commandments to Moses in first person (p. 25), thus
paying little attention to the allegedly sacrosanct nature of the biblical text.
4. Another possibility might be that 'assimilation' is operative. Both the author-
ity of the Torah and that of its reinterpretations were taken for granted; thus the latter
were, a priori, taken to be in agreement with the former, and no need was felt for
great care in studying the actual words of the Torah (in contrast to what the Rabbis
were to do subsequently). If so, the NT writers engaged in assimilation would seem
to be taking up a Jewish tendency (which they, to be sure, have radicalized).
5. Muller, 'Gesetz', pp. 26-27. Cf. Alexander, 'Jewish Law', p. 57.
b. Jesus and Paul

Turning to early Christianity, I will limit myself to a brief discussion
of the various options or models regarding Christian attitudes to the
law. Such a treatment would focus on the immanent problems in the
various positions. The approach would resemble that adopted by
Bultmann in his discussion of Hellenistic Christianity—with the
significant difference that Bultmann's questions were highly charged
theologically, whereas I would prefer a more neutral stance. The
theme of the law is not to be treated as part of anthropology (as in
Bultmann's section on Paul), but as part of a conflict over identity in
which * Christian' Jews and, later on, Christian Gentiles try to come to
terms with the Jewish symbolic universe. The leading question would
be, 'How is the new related to the old? How is the new position
legitimated? How is the old valued in the new age?'
The presentation would have to start with Jesus, although the
source-critical problems do not predict great success on this score.
The Jesus tradition is divided on the issue of the law, ranging from
extreme conservatism (Q) to quite radical statements (Mark). The
historical truth may lie somewhere in between. Considering the
subsequent uncertainty of his followers on precisely these issues, it
may be inferred that Jesus made no pronounced statements on the law
in either direction. He did not challenge the authority of the law, but
he may not have scrupulously subscribed to all its individual points
either. We must keep in mind the point just made concerning the
fluidity of the concept of the law. In any case, Jesus does not seem to
have challenged the central symbols of Judaism, circumcision or the
food laws; nor need his attitude to the Sabbath transgress the limits of
what was possible in some Jewish circles at the time.1 Jesus' followers
did not possess in the words of the master clear directives to guide
them in subsequent developments. From the primitive community in
Jerusalem starts a line of tradition characterized by loyalty to God's
covenantal law, including observance of the food laws and of the
Sabbath. It is represented among others by James the brother of Jesus,
by the transmitters of the Q tradition,2 by those called 'false brethren'
1. See above all E.P. Sanders, Jesus and Judaism (1985), pp. 245-69; Jewish
Law from Jesus to the Mishnah: Five Studies (1990), pp. 1-96.
2. On Q and the law, see C. Tuckett, 'Q, the Law and Judaism', in Lindars
(ed.), Law and Religion, pp. 90-101.
by Paul, and by the teachers of circumcision in Galatia. This position

was later taken by the Ebionites.
A different movement begins with Stephen and the 'Hellenists'.
Their position can only be outlined in very hypothetical terms. It must
be somehow connected with the Gentile mission and, consequently,
with the struggle over the legacy of Israel. New experiences, such as
Gentiles speaking in tongues, probably triggered a bold reinterpre-
tation of the Jewish tradition: the observance of some of God's
commands was made optional.1
It is in this connection that Paul's problems are to be unravelled.
Paul drastically reinterprets his old Jewish symbolic universe in the
light of his new experiences. These include the former conflict with
the liberal * Hellenist' Christians and their persecution by Paul, the
numinous vision of Christ which led Paul to follow in the footsteps of
the Hellenists after all, and his subsequent experience as a Christian
missionary. This last experience was filled with social and ideological
conflict with conservative Christians more devoted to keeping the old
symbolic world intact. In trying to do justice both to his old symbolic
world and to his new experience 'in Christ' (interpreted in a particu-
lar way), Paul lands in a situation of 'conflicting convictions',2 hard
pressed between the old and the new. Apart from passages which deal
explicitly with the law, the tension is palpable in the tortured section
Romans 9-11. 3 Paul's legitimating techniques include his appeal to OT
texts and figures as witnesses for his stance (whereby he often freely
changes the wording of the texts) as well as his affirmation that it is
he, rather than his opponents, who really does justice to the law.
It is not enough, however, to show that there are problems in the
thought of the apostle.4 Paul's struggle with the issues has the great
1. See above, Chapter 7.

2. Cf. E.P. Sanders, Paul, the Law, and the Jewish People (1983), p. 198
(speaking of Rom. 9-11); but see already Holtzmann's work, discussed above.
3. See my articles 'Romer 9-11: Analyse eines geistigen Ringens', ANRW,
II.25.4 (1987), pp. 2891-939; and 'Paul, God, and Israel: Romans 9-11 in
Recent Research', in The Social World of Formative Christianity and Judaism
(Festschrift H.C. Kee; 1988), pp. 178-206.
4. Many readers of my Paul and the Law have received the impression that my
main concern was to show that his was a muddled mind. I have tried to correct a
certain imbalance in the preface to the second edition; see esp. p. xxv: 'Paul's prob-
lems with the law are not the product of a muddled mind. They are the inevitable
merit of exposing problems that are inherent in any attempt to relate

the new to the old, the nascent Christian symbolic universe to the
traditional Jewish one.1 Does not the new soteriology in effect anti-
quate the old nomism, perceived to be instituted by God himself, even
as an eternal order?2 Is the old law abolished, fulfilled, or what? No
doubt Paul thinks that in some sense, at least, the old law has been
abolished. This notion forces him to seek a new explanation for the
giving of the law. Why did God give it in the first place, if it was not
designed to lead to life? The need to answer this question, which is
fundamentally the problem of theodicy, leads Paul to unorthodox
suggestions regarding the allegedly negative purpose of the law and its
hopeless entanglement with sin. At times he seems to be well
underway toward an analytical, differentiated3 handling of the
problem of Israel and the church. At other times, however, the old
and the new just merge together, and the law seems to be as valid as
ever. What non-Christian Jews were not able to fulfil is now fulfilled
by Christians. Moreover, Paul gets involved in logical problems when
he tries to undergird the continuity between the old and the new by
appealing to Abraham as a kind of first Christian. For if justification
by faith was available to Abraham, what was Christ really needed
for?4
consequence of his bold willingness to -wrestle with the basic issues.'

1. Cf. S. Westerholm, Israels Law and the Church's Faith (1988).
2. See above, Chapter 5. On Jesus and John the Baptist, cf. D. Allison, 'Jesus
and the Covenant: A Response to E.P. Sanders', JSNT 29 (1987), pp. 57-78.
3. For 'differentiation' as a crucial issue see Syreeni, Sermon on the Mount,
p. 214 and his article 'Matthew, Luke and the Law', in T. Veijola (ed.), The Law in
the Bible and its Environment (1990), pp. 126-55.
4. Conversely, if faith, and thus the right relationship to God, was not a possi-
bility in OT times (as Paul also suggests, Gal. 3.23!) the question of theodicy arises
with full forces. What was God in that case up to in the Mosaic period? These prob-
lems, and others, are clearly seen by L. Gaston, Paul and the Torah (1987), e.g.
pp. 30, 46; he tries to rid Paul from the ensuing difficulties by a whole series of
novel and adventurous interpretations. See my review in TLZ 114 (1989), pp. 191-
92. The conclusion lies at hand: if all this ingenuity is needed to keep the coherence
of Paul's thought intact, we had better sacrifice the idea of coherence.
c. Undifferentiated Answers1
As we have seen, Matthew assimilates the old with the new, without
making it clear that there is a difference.2 He uses the word
'fulfilment' as a 'magic key', apparently starting from the conviction
that whatever Jesus teaches must fulfil God's law in a way that does
justice to the necessary continuity.
James assimilates the new 'law of liberty' with the old law in a way
reminiscent of Matthew. He, however, is at a greater distance from
Judaism: the law is for him fully Christianized so that he seems to
have no relationship whatsoever to Judaism, neither in positive nor in
negative terms.3
Mark omits to mention the issue of the law altogether. The word
vouxx; never once appears. The opponents of Jesus are castigated for
substituting human traditions for God's command—and in the same
breath Jesus tacitly does away with God's commands concerning food.
The relation of 'Moses' to the law remains ambiguous.4
Unlike Matthew who is engaged in sibling rivalry with Judaism,
Mark views Jewish traditions from the distance of a Gentile. At times,
Mark seems to be moving toward an analytic distinction between
moral and ritual commandments, accepting the former and rejecting
the latter, but he stops short of making it explicit. Like Matthew, he
seems to postulate that Jesus, although possessing higher authority than
the law, took a positive attitude to the law (as distinct from human
tradition).
d. Attempts at Historical Differentiation

On one hand, Luke is anxious to underline continuity, even at the cost
of producing a rather unhistorical portrait of Paul and other Christian
figures of the past.5 On the other hand, he assumes without explana-
tion that the law had been a heavy burden even for the most faithful
1. For what follows, cf. the analyses in my Paul and the Law, pp. 203-28.
2. See above, p. 256.
3. Thus U. Luz, 'Das Neue Testament', in R. Smend and U. Luz, Gesetz
(1981), pp. 134-35.
4. Cf. on the 'unsystematic nature' of Mark's comments on legal issues
G. Dautzenberg, 'Gesetzeskritik und Gesetzesgehorsam in der Jesustradition', in
Das Gesetz im Neuen Testament (1986), pp. 54-61; Sariola, Markus, pp. 248-61.
5. Cf. S. Wilson, Luke and the Law (1983); Syreeni, 'Matthew, Luke and the
Law', pp. 145-51.
Jewish Christians. Luke views the law from the more distant vantage
point of a Gentile Christian. It is important to him and his legitimating
concern to ascertain that his religion is based on a glorious, ancient
tradition. But it is equally important to him to point out that the
venerable Jewish customs are by no means binding to the Gentile
Christians of his time, although these do observe the apostolic decree.
The law is valid for Jewish Christians, but its main significance lies in
its prophetic quality. Precisely because the law is not a burning
personal issue for Luke, he manages to do justice to the law as the
lasting characteristic of the Jewish faith without either Christianizing
it (so Matthew, but also Paul) or demonizing it (so Paul).1
The author of the Gospel of John displays a considerable distance
from Judaism.2 Jesus has abolished the Sabbath (5.18), and he speaks
of 'your law' in his conversations with Jewish opponents. Jn 1.18 and
6.32-33 even deny any salvific role to Moses.3 Moses did not see God,
nor did he give bread from heaven. There is, then, a clear differen-
tiation between the old and the new. Typically, however, the question
1. Cf. Syreeni, 'Matthew, Luke and the Law, pp. 145-46.

2. This is not always true of his traditions or of the earlier stage of the gospel.
The Fourth Gospel has proved amenable to a literary-critical analysis which reveals
subsequent stages. See M. Kotila, Umstrittener Zeuge (1988). Kotila (Umstrittener
Zeuge, pp. 201-204) concludes, mainly from 7.19-24, that the Signs Source reveals
a Christian group with a distinctly Jewish identity in conflict with another Jewish
group; the battle is fought within the framework of the law, the proto-Johannine
community trying to show that its interpretation of the Sabbath has the support of the
law. However, I. Dunderberg argues in a forthcoming dissertation (Johannes und die
Synoptiker) that the author of Jn 7.19-24 distances himself polemically from the law,
not least through his frequent use of the second person plural ('your' law etc. in
vv. 19, 22). He argues that healing on a Sabbath is all right even according to the
Mosaic standards of Jesus' opponents (which he himself does not share).
Dunderberg, following Haenchen, calls attention to a rather similar strategy in Justin,
Dial. 27.5. Thus Jn 7.19-24 concurs with such polemical passages as 6.32-33 which
Kotila (see the following note) has singled out.
3. Kotila (Umstrittener Zeuge\ pp. 209-11) attributes them to a subsequent
redactor (R1); he divides the layer generally ascribed to an 'ecclesiastical redactor'
between two redactors, R1 and R2, also attributing to the former such material as is
usually ascribed to the Evangelist. Kotila is inclined to include Moses among the
'robbers' who have, according to this redactor, come before Christ (10.8).
J. Becker, who values Kotila's contribution in very positive terms, disagrees with
him on these points; cf. Teologinen Aikakauskirja 94 (1989), p. 164.
is not raised, 'From where did the Mosaic Law come, if not from
heaven?' The backdrop of John's biting criticisms (which anticipate
Marcion) is the exclusion of his oup from
gr the synagogue (ch. 16).
But the Evangelist also stresses the remaining value and inviolability
of the Scriptures (10.34) which legitimate his theology. A tension
between a liberal practice and a conservative ideology, comparable to
that found in Paul, is palpable.1
Hebrews gives a differentiated solution: Christ has replaced the old
law which was cultic, weak, and from the outset designed to be just a
pale shadow of what was to come. This solution, however, has strange
implications, as Bultmann pointed out (above, p. 260). The problem
of relating the new to the old thus remains unsolved.
The letter of Barnabas goes further in suggesting that the Jews
never had a valid covenant with God. The covenant once offered to
them by God was immediately shattered i n order that the covenant
of dear Jesus be sealed in our hearts' (4.7-8). It was always a mistake
to take the 'ritual' law literally. God's moral law remains in force,
and is assimilated by the author with 'the new law of our Lord Jesus
Christ' (2.6).2 The conception is clear enough; its weakness lies in its
brutally question-begging nature.
Justin Martyr, too, held that God's moral law is permanently valid,
whereas the ritual law was a historical dispensation with a historical
purpose: it was given to the Jews as a punishment for their sins. By
such a differentiation Justin struggles to avoid the problem of theodicy.
His explanation is logical, although its individual parts are naive.3 But
his was a bold attempt to combine a theology of the abolition of the
law with the divine authority of the OT. Without a relativization of
either of the two, a much better solution was hardly possible.
Justin was reacting against the teaching of Marcion with whom he
shared the idea of the abrogation of the (ritual) law. Marcion, how-
ever, downgraded the whole OT as the book of an inferior god. He
1. Cf. Kotila, Umstrittener Zeuge, pp. 204-209.

2. The notion of Christian ethics as the 'law of Christ', characteristic of most
second-century Christianity, reflects a relative endpoint in the legitimating process:
central and suggestive vocabulary from the old symbolic universe is retained, but it is
given a new interpretation and a new place in the new whole. The actual discontinuity
is camouflaged to some extent with the use of language suggestive of continuity.
3. For example, the precept of circumcision was given in order that the Romans
could more easily identify the Jews and punish them.
took up Paul's radical line of thought (as he understood it) and

rejected (allegedly on text-critical grounds) the more conservative
sides in the apostle's thought. The price for this was, of course, a
complete elimination of biblical salvation history and thus also the
elimination of a possible resource for legitimating the position taken.
The supreme God now emerged out of the blue. But the clarity of the
differentiation between the old and the new did not leave much to be
desired.
The most lucid solution of all, however, was proposed by the
Valentinian Gnostic Ptolemy.1 He was the first to make explicit critical
distinctions within the OT law itself, taking his cue from the words of
Jesus. First, there are human additions in the law. But even the
remaining purified law is not uniform, as Jesus' attitude to it makes
clear. Jesus abolished such parts of the law as are righteous but not
consonant with the goodness of the true God (as they take man's
weakness into account); another obsolete part of the law consists of the
ceremonial law which is to be interpreted allegorically. The highest
part of the OT law is that which Jesus accepted, above all the
Decalogue. Even that part, however, was imperfect and Jesus had to
fulfil it through his interpretation in the Sermon on the Mount. It can,
of course, be said that Ptolemy 'denies history', and he does sacrifice
the unity of God. But he has managed to produce an account which
avoids self-contradictions in God's revealed will. It is doubtful
whether a much more convincing account would have been possible at
all before the rise of historical criticism.
A rather similar critical analysis is presented by, of all people, those
law-abiding Jewish Christians who produced the Kerygmata Petrou.
Jesus said that he did not annul the law, and yet his words do
undermine parts of it (e.g. animal sacrifices). From this it is to be
inferred that 'what he annulled did not belong to the law'. These
conservative Christians legitimated their adherence to the Mosaic
legislation by conceding by way of 'biblical criticism' as much as they
could to their liberal opponents, but then clinging all the more
steadfastly to the hard core of the law as they conceived it. Theirs was
a bold attempt to preserve the unity of God's revelation by removing
alleged human falsifications.
1. Cf. also the 'Second Logos of the Great Seth' from Nag Hammadi where a
radically negative attitude is taken to Moses.
e. Toward an Ecclesiastical Synthesis1

In the late second century, however, observant Jewish Christians
already lived separated from the mainstream church. For the latter,
the conflict over identity with the Jews belonged to the past. Now the
unity of the divine will has to be asserted and the free attitude to the
Old Testament legitimated in view of questions from the Greek side.
A primordial natural law, consisting of ethical demands, is postulated
from Justin and Irenaeus onwards. The patriarchs possessed it;
Tertullian finds the love command and the moral part of the
Decalogue already in the command given to Adam. Christ's precepts
stand in continuity with this original will of God. Various devices are
deployed to account for the command of circumcision given to
Abraham (it was a sign, as already in Paul) and for the Mosaic legis-
lation (given for a period of time to the Jews either for discipline or
for education). It is taken for granted that the Jews are wrong in their
claim that all of the law should be observed literally.
On the other hand, ethical Old Testament teachings are lavishly used
and assimilated to the new law of Jesus.2 Catholic Christianity comes
structurally close to covenantal nomism; only, the covenant is estab-
lished in Jesus, and the nomism is stripped of 'ritual' commandments.
1. Cf. H. Merkel, 'Gesetz IV: Alte Kirche', TRE, XIII, pp. 75-82.
2. Cf. above p. 275 n. 2.
INDEXES
INDEX OF REFERENCES
OLD TESTAMENT
Genesis 36, 241, 238,240

2-3 104 242 28 104
2.17 104 119 228 36.22-28 229
36.25-27 233
Exodus Isaiah 37 229
22.28 237 2.2-4 229, 242, 4(M8 229, 240
244 242
Numbers 25.7-9 229
11 103 42.4 234 Daniel
43.3-4 183 7.9-14 183
Deuteronomy 51.4 234 7.10 183
21.22-23 42-44 53.10-12 183
56.1 243, 246 Micah
2 Samuel 56.3-5 243 4 233, 242
7.19 83
Jeremiah Wisdom of Solomon
Psalms 31.31-34 126, 231 2.11-12 82
1 228
19 228 Ezekik Sirach
32 210 11.19-20 233 24 228, 230
46 234, 245, 16.20-21 238
246 18.30-31 233 Baruch
50 229,234- 20.25-26 229, 237, 3-4 228, 230
NEW TESTAMENT
Matthew 10.5 159, 200, Mark

5.17-48 122, 132, 201 2.1-3.6 44,197-
256 15.11 131-33, 99,200
5.18 248, 255, 135, 136 2.15-3.6 197
256 23.35-36 129, 146 2.15-17 152,198
5.19 159, 200, 23.25 133, 134 2.23-28 199
256 7.1-23 129, 139
5.21-48 138, 256 7.15 8,127-
Jesus, Paul and Torah 279
29,131- 13.1 153,154 108

41, 143, 7.7-8.4 67, 97,
144-47, Romans 100
161, 163, 1.18-3.20 18, 98, 7.7-11 96,97
164 193 7.7-8 55, 96,
7.18-23 129, 136 1.24 106, 107 98, 101,
7.19 129, 132, 2 193, 196, 102, 108,
140, 141, 202 111
175 2.13 218 7.14-25 95
9.2-8 249 2.14-15 220 7.15-20 95
10.45 183 2.17-29 98 7.21-25 49, 55,
2.25-29 29, 191- 63, 65,
Luke 93 69
6.36 213 3.9 27, 58, 7.21 63, 69,
10.8 133, 134, 61,98 71, 88,
159 3.19-20 61,62 91
11.41 134 3.21-22 56-59, 7.23 50, 63,
62, 185 71, 89-91
John 3.25-26 62, 182- 8.2 8, 48-53,
1.18 274 85, 196, 55, 63-
6.32-33 274 197 71, 90,
7.19-24 274 3.27 8, 48-53, 91, 93,
10.8 274 55-63, 94,249
65, 67- 9-11 20, 30,
Acts 71,89- 123,271
2.17-21 175 91, 93, 9.4-5 30, 113,
6.1-7 150-53 94,249 123
6.8-15 166 3.28 55, 57, 9.6-13 30
6.14 166, 168- 58, 62, 9.24-10.13 28, 30-32
71, 179 63 10.4 30, 31,
7.2-53 176 3.31 55, 57, 53, 55,
7.44-50 172, 177, 58, 63, 96, 194,
179 123 225
7.48-50 171, 175, 4 21, 35, 11 21, 23,
178, 179 37, 40, 30, 113,
7.56 166, 172, 41,51, 123
173 58 11.25-26 17, 23,
7.58 156 4.5 40,41 181
8.1 156, 177 5.10 41 12.1 30, 181,
8.3 156 5.13-14 263 195
8.26-40 154, 174, 5.20-21 213 13.8-10 59, 63,
187, 201 5.20 40, 227, 161, 194
10 134, 136, 261 13.9 100, 108,
144, 174, 6.1 213 161
189,198 6.7 117 13.14 99, 107,
11.19-20 149, 151, 6.12-16 107, 108, 108,110
155 213 14.14 136, 140-
11.20 154 6.12 99, 107, 42, 144,
280 Index of References
145, 161, 1.11-13 17, 21, 5.24 99, 106,

163 23, 24, 107,110
14.20 136, 141, 39 6.2 49, 51,
145 1.15-16 186 52, 69,
1.16 22, 24, 70, 89,
1 Corinthians 158 182, 234
1.19 214 1.17 120, 156 249, 250
1.29 214 1.22 156 6.4-10 218
3.16 181, 194, 2.7 22 6.12 186
195 2.8 144, 189
5.6-8 196 2.14 23 Philippians
6.9-10 218 2.15-21 24, 115, 2.12-13 218
6.11 117, 182 116, 121 3.2-11 25,146
6.19 181, 195 2.16 112-21, 3.3 28, 191,
7.10-11 142, 143, 124 192
161 2.17 34, 116, 3.4-6 17, 30,
7.19 29,194 121 39, 96,
9.19-23 113, 123 2.18 121 97
9.21 52, 123, 2.19 40, 66, 4.8-9 27
250 121
10.6-10 109 3.2 189 Colossians
10.6 109,110 3.13 42,43 2.11 195
10.12 219 3.15-29 250
11.29-31 207 3.17 122, 194 1 Thessalonians
3.19-25 122 2.12 207, 213
2 Corinthians 3.19-20 40, 58, 2.15 43, 44,
3 122, 226, 197, 248, 141
247 261 4.5 106,111
5.1 181 3.22 61
5.17 203 3.23 119,272 2 Thessalonians
9.8 213 3.28 193, 195 3.16 208
13.11 208 5.14 63, 161,
194 Hebrews
Galotians 5.16 99, 102, 8.7-13 247
1.11-17 21 109, 110 10.16-18 247
OTHER ANCIENT REFERENCES
Philo 7.4-5 210 28.1 207

Migr. Abr. 7.4 217 29.1 2.7
87-93 190 7.5 215,217 30.1 207, 220
8.5 210 30.3 207, 209
Barnabas 9.1 210 212,213
2.6 275 10.1 216 214
4.7-8 275 10.7 216 32.3-4 211,213
16.17 213, 224 214
1 Clement 20.11-21.1 207 33.1 209, 212
2.2 207 23.1-2 207 213
33.7-8 212 48.1 206 60.1-4 206

34.1-3 208 49^-50 210 64 206
34.3 208 56.1 206
34.4 208 57.1 209 4 Maccabees
35-36 209 57.2 210 2.6 102
37.5-38.1 206 58.1 210 17.21-22 185
38.2 206 58.2 209
38.3-4 206 59.4 207
INDEX OF AUTHORS
Alexander, P.S. 269 Bright, J. 231, 232

Allison, D.C. 272 Broer, I. 138
Althaus, P. 48, 54, 64, 96, 111 Bruce, F.F. 48
Anderson, H. 128, 129, 131 Buchler, A. 104
Andrei, O. 205, 210-13, 219 Buchsel, F. 98
Aono, T. 205-207, 209-13, 215, 216 Bultmann, R. 8, 15, 49, 50, 64, 95-
103, 105, 106, 108, 110, 111, 127,
Bacon, B.W. 128 129, 132, 160, 194-96, 199-201,
Barr, J. 107 203, 205, 208, 215, 217, 220, 221,
Barrett, C.K. 48, 50, 65, 106, 134, 253, 258-62, 265, 267, 270, 275
142 Burchard, C. 162
Barth, K. 50
Bauer, W. 56, 72, 79, 122 Caquot, A. 173
Baur, F.C. 253 Carlston, C.E. 128, 139
Bauernfeind, O. 201 Carroll, R.P. 126, 231, 233
Beare, F.W. 25 Collange, J.-F. 181
Beck, I. 52 Colson, F.H. 79
Beck, J.T. 54 Conacher, D.J. 92
Becker, J. 162, 274 Conzelmann, H. 18, 125, 144, 174,
Beker, J.C. 41 180, 187,262,263,265,269
Berger, K. 102, 128, 129, 138, 139 Cranfield, C.E.B. 51, 55, 58, 60-62,
Berger, P. 267, 268 64,65, 101, 114, 122, 140,226
Best, E. 142 Cremer, H. 50
Betz, H.D. 116, 120, 121, 200 Cullmann, O. 126, 176, 178
Beyschlag, K. 204, 223
Bihler, J. 152 Daele, H. van 92
Black, M. 48, 135 Dautzenberg, G. 273
Blair, E.P. 159 Davies, W.D. 113
Blaser, P. 54 Debrunner, A. 56, 120
Blass, F. 56, 120 Delitzsch, F. 69, 135
Boers, H. 253 Dibelius, M. 154, 156
Bohmer, S. 253 Dietzfelbinger, C. 15, 41-44, 150, 156
Boman, T. 159, 174 Doble, P. 178
Bornkamm, G. 95, 97, 100, 107, 109 Dodd, C.H. 48, 50, 250
Bousset, W. 121 Dodds, E.R. 81, 82
Brandenburger, E. 100 Donner, H. 243
Branscomb, B.H. 128, 134 Downing, F.G. 179
Braun, H. 95, 127 Drane, J.W. 181
Dulmcn, A. van 48, 49, 63, 105, 110 186, 187, 197, 198, 201
Dunderberg, I. 274 Hentschke, R. 236
Dunn, J.D.G. 8, 95, 112-25, 197-99, Hiring, J. 109, 110
264 Hermisson, H. 234
Herrmann, S. 231, 232
Ehrenberg, V. 73 Hirzel, R. 72, 73, 82, 89
Eichrodt, W. 273 Hofius, O. 82, 234
Eissfeldt, O. 83 Holtzmann, H.J. 253-62, 264, 265,
Enslin, M.S. 16 267, 269
Ernst, J. 25, 134 Horst, J. 130, 134
Esler, P.F. 267, 268 Huby, J. 48
Evans, J.A.S. 74 Hubner, H. 20, 23, 30, 52, 53, 59, 60,
64, 66, 70, 71, 97, 102, 114, 131-
Fiedler, P. 128 35, 139, 142, 148, 225-27
Friedrich, G. 25, 42, 51-62, 67, 70,
117, 160, 175 Jaubert, A. 213
Fuchs, E. 50, 52, 65, 66, 101 Jeremias, J. 131, 136, 138
Furnish, V.P. 51, 95 Jervell, J. 48, 49, 95, 133, 134, 144,
189
Gabler, J.P. 253 Jewett, R. 160, 175, 186
Garland, D. 134 Johnson, S.E. 128, 133
Gaston, L. 272 Jones, F.S. 197
Gerhardsson, B. 140, 143 Julicher, A. 48
Gese, H. 8, 227-29, 231, 233-36, 238- Jiingel, E. 50, 66
41, 243-46, 248, 249
Gigante, M. 72 Kaiser, O. 233, 234
Gnilka, J. 29, 127-29, 131, 136, 137, Kalusche, M. 9, 227
142, 143, 146, 171 Kamerbeek, J.C. 77
Goppelt, L. 169, 264 KSsemann, E. 48-50, 57, 63, 90, 91,
Grasser, E. 227 95, 97, 100-102, 104, 106-109,
Grube, G.M.A. 92 127, 132, 174, 193,195
Grundmann, W. 134 Kasting, H. 187, 201
Gundry, R. 201 Kertelge, K. 50, 117
Gutbrod, W. 96, 97 Kiilunen, J. 43, 149, 198-200
Gyllenberg, R. 49, 69, 70, 90, 91, 194 Kilgallen, J. 176, 178, 179
Kim, S. 7, 15, 17-25, 27, 29-31, 33-
Haacker, K. 225 41,45,46,158
Haenchen, E. 127, 131, 132, 145, 153, Kirk, K.E. 48
154, 156, 158, 177, 186, 187, 274 Kirkwood, G.M. 93
Hahn, F. 52, 55, 56, 117, 203, 204 Klauck, H.J. 129, 130, 136
Harnack, A. von 205, 211, 212, 215, Klein, G. 7, 186, 262, 265
217 Kleinknecht, H. 71, 72, 91
Hay, D.M. 190 Klinzing, G. 176, 181, 194, 195
Headlam, A.C. 48, 49, 60, 63, 100 Klostermann, E. 128, 130, 132, 134
Heiligenthal, R. 70 Knoch, O. 205, 212, 215, 217, 219,
Heinimann, F. 72, 73, 75, 92 221
Hengel, M. 134, 149-53, 156, 164, Knopf, R. 207, 208, 212, 213
166-69, 172, 175, 176, 178, 182, Knox, J. 48
284 Index of Authors
Knox, R. 49 Marcian6 Castellano, A. 72-74
Koster, H. 84, 154 Martyn, J.L. 159, 182, 250
Kotila, M. 274, 275 Maurer, C. 97
Kraft, H. 187, 188 Mauser, U. 100, 102, 103, 105, 107,
Kraus, H.J. 225, 234 109, 110
Kretschmar, G. 159 M6asson, A. 79
Kiimmel, W.G. 63, 95-97, 127-30, Meeks, W.A. 193
132, 134, 136, 138, 139, 146, 147, M6nard, J.-E. 193
257, 263 Merk, O. 225
Kuss, O. 48, 49, 60, 62, 96 Merkel, H. 128-30, 132-34, 136, 139,
277
Lagrange, M.J. 48, 49, 61, 134, 140 Meyer, B.F. 182, 185
Lamb, W.R.M. 81, 93 Michel, O. 48-50, 60, 62, 102
Lambrecht, J. 127, 129-32, 135, 138 Moe, O. 48
Lampe, G.W.H. 72 Montefiore, C.G. 127, 128, 130, 132
Laroche, E. 72, 73, 75, 77, 86, 92 Moore, G.F. 218
Larsson, E. 150, 174, 176, 179 Muller, K. 269
Laufen, R. 134, 146 Miiller, U.B. 138, 139, 143, 145, 163,
Leenhardt, FJ. 48, 49, 140 164, 166, 186
Lemme, L. 209, 211, 212 Mundle, W. 216
Levenson, J.D. 234, 240 Murray, J. 48, 49
Levin, C. 231, 232 Mussner, F. 61, 102, 110, 116, 118,
Liddell, H.G. 71, 72, 86, 87 121, 162
Lie"baert, J. 85
Lienhard, J.T. 151, 152 Neudorfer, H.-W. 159
Lietzmann, H. 48-50, 54, 57, 63, 88, Neugebauer, F. 50
89, 91, 96, 142, 222 Neusner, J. 38, 39, 266
Limbeck, M. 218, 266 Nicholson, E.W. 232
Lindars, B. 199 Nikolainen, A.T. 48
Lindemann, A. 205, 213-15 Nineham, D.E. 128
Livingstone, E.A. 220 Noack, B.51
Lohse, E. 52, 53, 63-67, 70, 184, 195, Noth, M. 103, 226
263 Nygren, A. 120
Loretz, O. 104
Luck, U. 15, 41 Oepke, A. 120
Luckmann, T. 267, 268 Osten-Sacken, P. von der 52, 53, 59,
Liihrmann, D. 127-29 60, 64, 70, 101
Lutgert, W. I l l Ostwald, K.M. 72-75, 86, 92
Luz, U. 49, 57, 127, 128, 132, 135,
138, 140, 162, 203, 224, 227, 246, Pagels, E. 193
247, 273 Painter, J. 159, 160
Lyonnet, S. 102-104, 109, 110 Paschen, W. 128, 130, 135, 144, 145
Pasinya, L.M. 72
McKelvey, RJ. 181 Passow, F. 72
Maddox, R. 178 Pedersen, S. 220
Mair, A.W. 76 Percy, E. 128, 133
Maloney, E.C. 135 Perrin, N. 127, 136, 199
Manson, W. 172, 176 Perrot, C. 37
Pesch, R. 127-29, 132, 135 Schunack, G. 51
Phillips, J.B. 49 Schweizer, E. 41, 131, 132, 192, 193,
Plummer, A. 109, 110 195, 201
Pohlenz, M. 86 Scott, R. 71, 72, 86, 87
Potter, H.D. 232, 233, 242 Scroggs, R. 159, 169, 176-78, 186,
Przybulski, B. 218 200, 201
Seccombe, D. 152, 153
Quass, F. 73 Sellin, G. 8, 149, 158, 171, 191
Sheppard, J.T. 92
Rad, G. von 226, 231, 251 Simon, M. 176-78, 181
Raisanen, H. 220, 224-27, 244, 247, Smend, R. 127, 128, 132, 135, 138,
250,252,266,271,273 140, 162, 224, 227
Reventlow, H. Graf von 225 Snodgrass, K. 71, 89, 94
Reyhl, K. 79 Staab, K. 91
Richard, E. 152, 167, 169, 176, 179 Stanford, W.B. 77
Riches, J.K. 127, 130 Stanton, G. 159, 170, 177-79
Riddle, D.W. 125 Stauffer, E. 130, 132
Robertson, A.T. 56, 109, 110 Steck, O.H. 176, 177
Roloff, J. 151, 152, 166 Stemberger, G. 179
Rudolph, W. 231, 232, 236 Stephanus, H. 72
Stier, H.E. 73
Sabbe, M. 166, 167, 173, 176 Strecker, G. 16, 22, 23, 29, 41, 45,
Sand, A. 95 46,227
Sanday, W. 48, 49, 60, 63, 100 Stuhlmacher, P. 8, 15, 41, 42, 117,
Sanders, E.P. 20, 31-33, 35, 37-39, 150, 182-84, 197, 227-32, 234,
42, 43, 45, 47, 71, 95, 96, 105, 235, 237, 239, 241, 243-51
112-15, 117, 120, 123-26, 138, Surkau, H.-W. 173
149, 153, 161, 164, 165, 186, 189, Syreeni, K. 268, 272-74
190, 192, 193, 196, 199, 212, 218,
219, 225, 266, 270 Taylor, K. 49
Sanders, L. 211, 212 Taylor, V. 127, 128, 130, 132
Sariola, H. 266, 273 Theissen, G. 268
Satake, A. 36 Toivanen, A. 212
Schechter, S. 104 Tuckett, C. 149, 199, 270
Schille, G. 150, 156 Turner, N. 57
Schlatter, A. 48, 142
Schlier, H. 48,51, 61, 116, 120 Vos, J.S. 52, 65
Schmidt, H. 51, 62, 234
Schmithals, W. 129, 130, 154, 155, Walter, N. 150, 152, 161, 162, 185
174, 186-89, 193, 194 Watson, F. 20, 24, 27, 35, 36, 45, 46,
Schneemelcher, W. 154 149-51, 154, 157, 158, 169, 170,
Schneider, G. 150-52, 156, 172, 173, 1%
176-80, 187 Wedderburn, A.J.M. 149, 150, 174,
Schoeps, H.J. 51, 127, 139 186, 187, 189, 190
Schrage, W. 96, 135 Weder, H. 33
Schulz, S. 16, 45, 46, 128, 139, 203- Weippert, H. 231, 232
205, 208, 211, 212, 216, 219, 222, Weiser, A. 149, 150, 152, 156, 165,
223 167, 169, 171, 173, 177, 180
286 Index of Authors
Weiss, J. 54, 110, 140 Wilhelm, A. 86, 87
Werblowsky, RJ.Z. 218 Williams, S.K. 115, 116, 184, 185
West, M.L. 73 Willige, W. 77
Westerholm, S. 94, 128, 132, 133, Wilson, S.G. 144, 168, 169, 189, 273
135-38, 140, 145, 147, 272 Windisch, H. 208, 213, 247
Westermann, C. 243 Wolf, E. 209
Wevers, J.W. 237 Wolff, C. 247
Wiater, W. 156, 167, 173 Wrede, W. 16, 41, 45-47, 214, 252,
Whittaker, G.H. 79 253, 257
Wilckens, U. 20, 32, 41, 51, 71, 72,
88, 89, 93, 143, 176, 177, 180, Zahn, T. 49, 54, 56, 62, 88, 89, 140
182, 195, 196 Zeller, D. 71, 265
Wilderberger, H. 233, 236 Zimmerli, W. 104, 237-40

(Library of New Testament Studies) Heikki Raisanen - Jesus, Paul and Torah - Collected Essays-Bloomsbury Academic

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library of new testament studies

Translations from the German

Journal for the Study of the New Testament

Copyright © 1992 Sheffield Academic Press

Published by JSOT Press

Typeset by Sheffield Academic Press

British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data

Index of References 278

with are crucial for understanding Paul's view of the law.

The following essays have appeared previously in the journals and

AGJU Arbeiten zur Geschichte des antiken Judentums und des

JSNTSup Journal for the Study of the New Testament,

ZKG Zeitschriftfiir Kirchengeschichte

PAUL'S CALL EXPERIENCE AND HIS LATER VIEW OF THE LAW

There is not the slightest doubt about the immense significance of

1. M.S. Enslin, The Ethics of Paul (1930), pp. 11-12.

The Question of Self-Contradictions in Paul

1. Raisanen, Paul and the Law, pp. 256-63.

Kim belittles these difficulties. To him, 'many of the problems

But of course I do not 'insist' that any of Paul's affirmations seemed

What actually is the difference between 'dialectic' and 'contradic-

1. Paul and the Law, p. 256.

If my reconstruction is correct, Kim would expect Paul to make

Paul defended the 'freedom' detected by the 'false brethren' (probably

It is in this context that the crucial passage 1.13-17 is embedded. As

The vision resulted in an awareness of the missionary task among

unique in Paul's letters, in v. 13 is significant. The word carries

1. See above. In my earlier attempts to understand the Hellenists I have overem-

polemical context of dictating Galatians it was important for Paul that

What, then, does Paul mean in v. 9? In view of the question of

differs from the CftkoqQeov ascribed by him to Israel in Rom. 10.2

1. Watson, Paul, Judaism and the Gentiles, p. 78 (my emphasis).

misleading choice of word, or else Paul's argument is a massive non

1. The parenthetical character is likewise noted by J. Gnilka, Der PHlipperbrief

The point is well taken. But it is not a decisive argument against

Paul and Jewish 'Soteriology'

1. Chapter 5, pp. 162-98.

stress that the Judaizers represented indeed a principle of 'works'. 1

1. This is why Paul rejects circumcision and observance in Galatia as 'the

on Paul's view,/aitfi is a human activity which is absolutely necessary for

In fact, Kim himself (pp. 288-96) has an interesting and sympathetic

1. Paul, Judaism and the Gentiles, p. 140 (my emphasis).

Pauline Christianity represents the latter type of community. But it is important to

contrast. It is very difficult to avoid the impression that Paul often

1. Sanders, Paul, the Law, and the Jewish People, p. 34.

Kim alleges that I display an 'overconfidence' which is 'not well-

1. J. Neusner, 'Comparing Judaisms', HR 18 (1978), pp. 177-91. Sanders's

Law and Sin

1. J. Neusner, Major Trends in Formative Judaism (BJS, 99; 1985), III,

Kim notes, quite correctly, that according to my own (standard)

Apart from the reference to Romans 4, this is quite probable. But

1. Fanaticism for a cause is not necessarily a 'fault' of the cause itself. If it

brought to his agenda by his opponents. As I suggested,1 'the

The Law as the Cause of Jesus' Death

1. Paul and the Law, p. 171 n. 57.

This critique is based on the presupposition that, according to Paul,

1. Dietzfelbinger, Die Bemfung des Paulus, p. 115.

terminology never reappears in Paul's writings; it is difficult to think

doubtful whether Jesus is really viewed in the conflict stories in Mark

1. Dietzfelbinger writes {Die Berufung des Paulus, p. 133),

to him at his call. This would seem to be the view of

are due to a later development (thus also Sanders).

1. Wrede, Paulus, p. 79.