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Beyond these general reasons that the perspectives of Baur and others on Rom 15–16 are insufficiently supported, several other pieces of evidence also converge to suggest that these chapters, much in the form in which they appear in the modern, printed editions, are original to Romans.

1. On Origen’s testimony, Marcion truncated the epistle before the beginning of chapter fifteen ( Murray 2.265; cf. Carson, Moo, and Morris 246; Metzger 536). This fact, combined with the observation that Rom 15:1–13 completes the argument begun in Rom 14:1–23 strongly indicates that at least this part of Rom 15–16 is original to Paul.
2. Since only limited, if any, direct, textual evidence exists for the supposed fifteen-chapter version of the epistle, it seems quite likely that, as authenticity goes for one part of the section of Rom 15–16, so it goes for the whole ( Carson, Moo, and Morris 247).
3. The external manuscript evidence for Rom 15–16 is very strong, and the external, patristic testimony also seems reasonably good. Origen (ca. 185–254) includes this section in his Romans commentary ( Bray 353–81, 387), and both Justin Martyr (ca. 100/110-165) and Tertullian (ca. 155/160–240/250) seem to allude to it at various points ( Bray 360, 375, 387). With these last two examples, however, some caution must be exercised, since they do provide only allusions to and not direct quotations from Romans (cf. Bray xxii). Moreover, Carson, Moo, and Morris, 246, note that Tertullian, at least, does not quote from Rom 15–16 in places where he might have been expected to do so. Yet, if Tertullian was indeed writing against Marcionism in these texts ( Murray 2:264), he may have simply been attempting to construct his argument from texts that the Marcionites themselves would accept.
4. Finally, and specifically related to the doxology, very little evidence exists for its omission, and one manuscript (G), although it omits the passage, leaves room for its inclusion ( Metzger 534–35)].

Based on these factors, it seems that only the doxology’s specific placement may remain somewhat in doubt, and one must admit that discerning its original placement is no simple task. Of the three basic positions in which it appears in different manuscripts (i.e., at the end of one of Romans’ last three chapters), a placement after chapter fourteen (either in addition to or instead of the placement at the end of Rom 16) would interrupt the train of Paul’s argument from 14:1–15:13. This placement could, therefore, perhaps be preferred because it is the hardest reading, and scribes copying Romans would have tended to remove rather than create difficulties in the text. Yet, this reading could also have arisen because the Marcionites used and circulated their version of Romans, which ended with chapter fourteen ( Metzger 472). Reading the doxology after Rom 15 has the support of an early third-century manuscript (P46), but this textual basis is very narrow and may merely reflect a scribal idiosyncrasy (cf. Metzger 471, 473). The final placement possibility for the doxology at the end of Rom 16, of the three major possibilities, has perhaps the best breadth and antiquity in its manuscript attestation (e.g., א, B, C, D, cop, eth, it, vg). In the end, therefore, because of the possibility of Marcionite influence in the placement of the doxology after Rom 14, it seems most probable that the doxology originally appeared after Rom 16 and that Rom 15–16 formed the concluding section of Paul’s original composition.

Herder thought that Mark most exactly reproduced Urev Or. Matthew reproduced it with expansions, and Luke, aware of these expansions, “wished to create ‘an actual historical account’ after a wholly Hellenistic pattern.” Herder also hypothesized that “[s]ome forty years later John . . . wrote an ’echo of the earlier Gospels at a higher pitch’ which undertook to set forth Jesus as the Savior of the world. . . .”

The arguments against the authenticity of Rom 15–16 that have been summarized are, however, inadequate for several reasons, which including the following:

1. Far from a needless repetition of Rom 12:1ff, Rom 15:1–13 actually provides a necessary continuation of Paul’s argument from Rom 14:1–23 ( Murray 2:263–65).
2. When Paul speaks of ministering “from Jerusalem and around as far as Illyricum” ( Rom 15:19), he does not indicate Jerusalem to be the chronological starting point and Illyricum to be the ending point of his ministry. Rather, he uses these cities to designate the geographical bounds for the region of his ministry ( Murray 2:213–15).
3. First Clement 5:7 speaks of Paul reaching “the limit of the west.” While Clement may have surmised from Rom 15:25, 28 that Paul actually did reach Spain, this text at least provides ancient testimony to the plausibility of the Spanish mission. In any case, the fact that Paul did not mention Spain in any of his other letters does not invalidate the usage here any more than the destination(s) given in a company’s first bulk marketing mailing is invalidated because that company or its employees have not previously been to that place.
4. That Aquilla and Priscilla could not have returned to Rome and established a residence there in the interval between the composition of 1 Corinthians [ca. AD 55 ( Carson, Moo, and Morris 283)] and the composition of Romans is by no means certain, especially if Romans is dated later in the period of AD 55–59 (cf. Murray 2:267–68). Moreover, Paul’s greeting so many other people in a city he had never visited does not necessarily provide evidence for non-Pauline authorship of this section of the epistle, since Paul may well have met these people elsewhere, have been introduced to them through correspondence, or have known them through others.
5. Very little manuscript evidence exists for omitting the doxology, and the consistent testimony of the earliest manuscripts is to have the doxology present at some point ( Metzger 534). Additionally, hypothesizing a Marcionite origin for the doxology seems quite strange, since Marcion’s text of Romans did not contain it ( Murray 2:263).

Eichhorn does not appear to have named Q as such, but this part of his hypothesis fits what has come to be called Q.

See Kümmel 77–79. Please see the symbol key for an explanation of the diagrams in this post series.

In this post:[caption id=“attachment_2014” align=“alignleft” width=“80” caption=“Werner Kümmel”] [/caption]

Perhaps the most persistently thorny issues in textual criticism of Romans are related to: (1) the placement of the doxology, which normally appears in Rom 16:25–27 in modern, printed editions and (2) the cohesion of Rom 15–16 with the rest of the epistle. While distinguishable, however, these issues cannot be completely separated from each other, since, at the very least, the doxology appears to be an ending to something.

See Kümmel 76. Please see the symbol key for an explanation of the diagrams in this post series.

In this post:[caption id=“attachment_2014” align=“alignleft” width=“80” caption=“Werner Kümmel”] [/caption]

See Kümmel 75–76. Please see the symbol key for an explanation of the diagrams in this post series.

In this post:[caption id=“attachment_2014” align=“alignleft” width=“80” caption=“Werner Kümmel”] [/caption]

See Kümmel 75. Please see the symbol key for an explanation of the diagrams in this post series.

In this post:[caption id=“attachment_2014” align=“alignleft” width=“80” caption=“Werner Kümmel”] [/caption]

The following symbols, listed alphabetically, are used in the post series that summarizes solutions to the synoptic problem:

• A, or UrMk – Urmarkus (a proto-Gospel of Mark)

• Ar – Aramaic

• frag – fragmentary

• GosNaz – Gospel of the Nazarenes

• Heb – Hebrew

• L – a special, Lukan source

• Lk – Luke

• M – a special, Matthean source

• Mk – Mark

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The ‘synoptic problem’ is a phenomenon that arises because the synoptic Gospels (Matthew, Mark, and Luke), while they contain so much similar material, do not always report the same material in the same way. Various solutions for the synoptic problem that have been proposed—so many that their nuances can be difficult to remember. This post series will attempt to compose a set of diagrams based on the summaries of these solutions that Kümmel, New Testament ( affiliate disclosure), provides.

The blogroll has been updated and transferred from its own page to a sidebar widget. Also, Greek blog titles are now alphabetized according to the Greek alphabet rather than their transliteration. So, for example, titles beginning with (Greek) epsilon are alphabetized after titles beginning with (English) gee.

Look for several additions to appear in the coming days.

A third instance of ‘gospel’ language in the wider Greco-Roman context is the Gaius inscription (ca. 5 BC):

On the motion of the strategi Metrodorus son of Conon, Clinius, Musaeus, and Dionysius—

Whereas Gaius Julius Caesar, the eldest of the sons of Augustus has—as has been fervently prayed for—assumed in all its splendor the pure-white toga [of manhood] in place of the purple-bordered toga [of youth], and all men rejoice to see the prayers for his sons rising together to Augustus;

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Another example of ‘gospel’ language in the Greco-Roman environment is the inscription found at Priene (ca. 9 BC) about Augustus:

It seemed good to the Greeks of Asia, in the opinion of the high priest Apollonius of Menophilus Azanitus: “Since Providence, which has ordered all things and is deeply interested in our life, has set in most perfect order by giving us Augustus, whom she filled with virtue that he might benefit humankind, sending him as a savior [σωτήρ], both for us and for our descendants, that he might end war [= ποιῇ εἰρήνην] and arrange all things, and since he, Caesar, by his appearance [ἐπιφανεῖν] (excelled even our anticipations), surpassing all previous benefactors, and not even leaving to posterity any hope of surpassing what he has done, and since the birthday of the god Augustus was the beginning of the good tidings for the world that came by reason of him [ἦρξεν δὲ τῷ κόσμῳ τῶν δἰ αὐτὸν εὐαγγελίων ἡ γενέθλιος τοῦ θεοῦ],” which Asia resolved in Smyrna (text and translation cited from Evans 2–3).

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The link list on the Greek resources page has been updated and expanded to include some additional, online resources for studying New Testament Greek and the Greek New Testament.

The Greek font that the Society of Biblical Literature has developed is complete and available for download.

First century Christians were not unique in their use of ‘gospel’ language. In fact, this word group (which exhibits the εὐαγγελι- stem in Greek) actually comes into several connections in ancient literature. For instance, in his Jewish Wars, Josephus records the following:

So the men of power, perceiving that the sedition was too hard for them to subdue, and that the danger which would arise from the Romans would come upon them first of all, endeavored to save themselves, and sent ambassadors; some to Florus, the chief of whom was Simon the son of Ananias; and others to Agrippa, among whom the most eminent were Saul, and Antipas, and Costobarus, who were of the king’s kindred; and they desired of them both that they would come with an army to the city and cut off the sedition before it should be too hard to be subdued. Now this terrible message was good news [εὐαγγέλιον] to Florus; and because his design was to have a war kindled, he gave the ambassadors no answer at all ( Josephus, Jewish Wars 2.418–20).

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A new page is now available that will eventually house several resources for learning New Testament Greek. Currently, the page features MP3 audio recordings of the basic verb and noun paradigms as well as some songs that have been translated into Greek. Repeatedly hearing these paradigms and the songs in which they are used can provide one more way of cementing New Testament Greek in memory.

Right now, the Greek resources page basically reflects my old faculty page at Faulkner University, but expect more material to become available and a more friendly organization to develop over the coming weeks.

Asking whether the New Testament specifically or the biblical literature generally has a divine or human origin and a divine or human nature imports a dichotomy that literature itself does not reflect. From this literature’s own perspective, the literature is not viewed as always either human or divine in origin and nature, nor is it sometimes human in origin and nature and sometimes divine. Rather, this literature and several significant figures in early Christianity represent the biblical literature as having both a human and a divine origin simultaneously (see 1 Tim 5:18; 2 Tim 3:16; 2 Pet 1:21; 3:15–16; Ferguson 2:5–6).

The Muratorian fragment curiously includes a book named “Wisdom” in the middle of its discussion of New Testament literature (see Westcott 562). The standard interpretation of this reference appears to be that the fragment refers here to the well-known Wisdom of Solomon (e.g., Carson, Moo, and Morris 492; Ehrman 241).

In the third book of his work, Against Heresies, Irenaeus takes up a defense of the fourfold Gospel tradition.

[Update: As of 27 October 2017, the Ecclesia Reformanda website appears no longer to be available.]

A new journal for British, Reformed theology has just launched, Ecclesia Reformanda. Ros Clarke, a fellow PhD student from our days at Westminster who is now sitting under Jamie Grant at the University of the Highlands and Islands Millennium Institute, is the book review editor.

In his second plenary address at the eastern regional meeting of the Evangelical Theological Society last spring, Stephen Chapman, Assistant Professor of Old Testament at Duke Divinity School, suggested some ways to navigate some of the pitfalls of current canon debates. In his closing remarks, Chapman emphasized the statement of the First Vatican Council (1868) that:

To complement the current series on faith and scholarship over at Café Apocalypsis, we might note some interesting comments from James Dunn’s Jesus Remembered. Dunn favorably mentions Gadamer’s alliance with “those who want to maintain that faith is not in principle at odds with the hermeneutical process in its application to the study of the NT” ( 123) because the whole Jesus tradition began from a “faith stimulus” ( 127). That is, “the original impulse behind these records was . . . sayings of Jesus as heard and received, and actions of Jesus as witnessed and retained in memory” ( 129; emphasis original). This tradition emerged and was preserved “as an expression of faith” ( 132). All this is to say, as Dunn helpfully summarizes, that:

In his Jesus Remembered, James Dunn makes the following, insightful observations about the interplay between the study of Jesus and the study of history:

For those within the Christian tradition of faith, the issue [of Jesus’ relationship to history] is even more important. Christian belief in the incarnation, in the events of long ago in Palestine of the late 20s and early 30s AD as the decisive fulcrum point in human history, leaves them no choice but to be interested in the events and words of those days. For the incarnation, by definition, means the commitment of God to self-manifestation in Jesus at a particular time and place within human history, and thus places a tremendous weight of significance on certain events in Palestine in the years 28-30 (or thereabouts) of the common era. Christians cannot but want to know what Jesus was like, since he shows them what God is like. . . . [T]he new questers of the third quarter of the twentieth century showed that faith could and does have a theologically legitimate interest in the history of Jesus. Honest historical inquiry may be granted insights regarding Jesus which are crucially (in)formative of honest (self-critical) faith. . . . The point of [this historical] otherness of Jesus is, in part at least, . . . the otherness in particular of Jesus the Jew—again something we ‘moderns’ have forgotten at our cost. Without that sense of Jesus ‘born under the law’ ( Gal. 4.4), of Christ ‘become servant of the circumcision’ ( Rom. 15.8), with historical awareness of what that means in terms of the particularities of history, then the humanity of Christ is likely to be lost again to view within Christianity and swallowed up in an essentially docetic affirmation of his deity. Although the failures of earlier lives of Jesus at this point . . . are now widely acknowledged, the instinctive compulsion to extricate Jesus from his historical context and to assume his [a-historical,] timeless relevance still has to be resolutely resisted ( 101–102).

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[caption id=“attachment_668” align=“alignleft” width=“80” caption=“Stephen Neill and N. T. Wright”] [/caption] Neill’s stated purpose for his book was “to provide a narrative [about the interpretation of the New Testament] that can be read without too much trouble by the non-theologian who is anxious to know and is prepared to devote some time to the subject” ( ix). This task he seems to have done masterfully well, with a comparatively frugal use of footnotes to set forth “the necessary apparatus of scholarship” ( ix). While this history might have proved tedious, Neill has managed to produce a cogent narrative that, at times, may well carry the interested student into the situation or the time being described.

N. T. Wright’s revision of Stephen Neill’s, Interpretation of the New Testament, 1861–1986, attempts a concise, but significantly narratival, survey of various issues in New Testament scholarship during the period in question. To this end, Neill and Wright discuss: (i) the challenge to orthodoxy ( 1–34); (ii) the New Testament and its relationship to history ( 35–64); (iii) what the New Testament says and means ( 65–111); (iv) Jesus and His relationship to the Gospel ( 112–46); (v) Greeks and their relationship to Christians ( 147–204); (vi) “Re-enter[ing] Theology” ( 205–51); (vii) the theory of a gospel behind the Gospels ( 252–312); (viii) the Jewish background of the Gospel ( 313–59); and (ix) the relationship between history and theology ( 360–449).

[caption id=“attachment_635” align=“alignleft” width=“80” caption=“Simon Kistemaker”] [/caption] Simon Kistemaker generally provides balanced, astute commentary on several of Jesus’ parables and parabolic sayings. He attempts to avoid allegorical interpretations, thinking that “in the New Testament we encounter elements of allegory but never a full-fledged allegorical parable” ( 15). This surface disagreement with Blomberg’s perspective on the parables is mainly an issue of semantics. In actuality, Kistemaker’s point merely reflects the very probable hypothesis that in none of Jesus’ parables do all the details stand for things other than themselves, or stated alternatively, that Jesus’ parables—even the allegorical ones—are qualitatively different from an allegory like The Pilgrim’s Progress. One of the chief benefits of The Parables is how Kistemaker consistently summarizes with simplicity and clarity what he considers to be the main points of each parable. Occasionally, one might well debate some precise points of exegesis. Yet, the work is, overall, engaging and informative, and Kistemaker’s style is coherent and straightforward.

In The Parables, Simon Kistemaker specifically targets “theologically trained pastors. But because technical details have been relegated to endnotes, the text itself is user-friendly to any serious student of the Bible” ( 8). The introduction describes very broadly some of the basic issues of which one should be aware when studying parables, such as: the meaning of the term “parable,” the composition of parables, Jesus’ purpose for teaching in parables, the basic principles of interpreting parables, and the elusiveness of any firm method of classifying the parables ( 9–20).

[caption id=“attachment_601” align=“alignleft” width=“80” caption=“Dominic Crossan”] [/caption] Crossan’s book, In Parables, immediately demonstrates his keen intellect and wide range of reading. The great variety of literature he cites certainly indicates his substantial, literary aptitude. One of the more beneficial parts of the book, however, relates more directly to his detailed reading of Jesus’ parables themselves rather than so much to his wide reading in other literature. Specifically, Crossan performs a very valuable service in his detailed analyses of multiply attested parables in relation to the synoptic problem. Crossan’s close reading of these parables and his subsequent notes on points of divergence between the parable froms in the synoptics helpfully summarizes the major critical issues involved with these parables. The solutions he proposes to these difficulties are frequently innovative and seem to be motivated by a desire to recapture the exact wording Jesus used when He originally gave the parables ( ipsissima verba) ( 3–4). Nevertheless, many scholars might, in most cases, propose quite different solutions from those Crossan puts forth (cf. vii, 3–4). The book does have some questionable aspects, such as an excessive skepticism about the historical Jesus (e.g., 4; for a critical realist approach to this question, see Wright, Jesus and the Victory of God). Yet, In Parables definitely provides itself to be valuable by providing the reader with much helpful information concerning the divergences present in Jesus’ multiply attested parables.

Crossan’s work, In Parables: The Challenge of the Historical Jesus, is based on several articles that Crossan wrote separately and has now compiled into a single collection ( xi). Rather uniquely, through citations from various scholars and littérateurs, the introduction and conclusion attempt to provide some literary commentary related to different ways of reading parables. The first major section, “Parables and the Temporality of the Kingdom” ( 3–36), addresses several broad issues related to literary theory, describes what constitutes a parable, and identifies a method for parable interpretation. At this section’s conclusion, Crossan groups Jesus’ parables by what he sees as their three major themes—namely, the advent of God’s kingdom, the reversal of the worldview of the parables’ addressees, and the calling and empowering of the recipients to live and act in concert with God’s kingdom ( 36). In each of the following chapters, Crossan comments generally about one of these themes and examines at least one parable that, in his estimation, fits that category.