In the Fullness of Time: Essays on Christology, Creation, and Eschatology in Honor of Richard Bauckham

RICHARD BAUCKHAM

IN THE FULLNESS OF TIME

Essays on Christology, Creation, and Eschatology

in Honor of

RICHARD BAUCKHAM

Edited by

Daniel M. Gurtner

Grant Macaskill

Jonathan T. Pennington

WILLIAM B. EERDMANS PUBLISHING COMPANY

GRAND RAPIDS, MICHIGAN

Wm. B. Eerdmans Publishing Co.

2140 Oak Industrial Drive N.E., Grand Rapids, Michigan 49505

www.eerdmans.com

© 2016 Daniel M. Gurtner, Grant Macaskill, and Jonathan T. Pennington

All rights reserved

Published 2016

22 21 20 19 18 17 16  1 2 3 4 5 6 7

ISBN 978-0-8028-7337-8

eISBN 978-1-4674-4636-5

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

A Cataloging-in-Publication record is on file with the Library of Congress

Contents

Richard Bauckham: Christian Historian

Jonathan T. Pennington

Witness

Micheal O’Siadhail

Introduction

PART 1: THEMATIC STUDIES

The Birth of God and the Resurrection of Life

Jürgen Moltmann

Time and Eternity: Richard Bauckham and the Fifth Evangelist

Jeremy S. Begbie

Parmenides, Particularity, and Parousia: Identifying the One Who Will Come to Judge the Living and the Dead

Trevor Hart

The Bible and Wider Culture: Animals as a Test Case

David Brown

Worship and Divine Identity: Richard Bauckham’s Christological Pilgrimage

Larry W. Hurtado

The Agent of the King Is Treated as the King Himself: Does the Worship of Jesus Imply His Divinity?

Philip Alexander

Christianity without Paul

James D. G. Dunn

PART 2: TEXTUAL STUDIES

God Put Jesus Forth: Reflections on Romans 3:24–26

N. T. Wright

Jesus the Baptist: The First Temptation of Christ

Sean M. McDonough

Giving the Kingdom to an Ethnos That Will Bear Its Fruit: Ethnic and Christ-Movement Identities in Matthew

Philip F. Esler

Mark’s Gospel for the Second Church of the Late First Century

Bruce W. Longenecker

The Book of Revelation and the Hekhalot Literature

James R. Davila

Bibliography

Publications by Richard Bauckham

General Bibliography

Contributors

Index of Authors

Index of Scripture and Other Ancient Texts

Richard Bauckham: Christian Historian

Jonathan T. Pennington

When one tries to answer the question, Who is the scholar Richard Bauckham? the answer quickly becomes complicated. This is because the areas in which Professor Bauckham has produced significant scholarship and is a recognized expert are so manifold. Possible and valid answers to the question include: New Testament scholar; historical theologian; student of Second Temple Judaism and apocalyptic literature; Moltmann expert who, according to Moltmann, knows his theology better than Moltmann does himself; specialist on the Bible and ecology; expert in first-century Jewish history; systematic theologian of Christology; analyst of Old Testament pseudepigrapha; commentator on John’s Gospel; investigator of the archaeology of Magdala; and Revelation scholar, to name just a few.

In our modern age of micro-specialization Richard is simultaneously a doyen in his chosen fields of study and a scholar whose breadth of knowledge and abilities makes him more than a specialist; he is one who regularly builds deep and wide tunnels between what are typically separate silos of scholarship.

One result of his wide-ranging interests and intellectual curiosity is that not once but several times over his academic career Bauckham has stepped into an existing scholarly dialogue, quickly mastered it, and then made an original contribution, breaking old paradigms by virtue of his fresh and rigorous arguments. Over the last forty years this has happened in the discussion of Jürgen Moltmann and eschatology, Second Temple Judaism and apocalyptic, Christology, Gospel studies, the interpretation of James, pseudepigraphical writings, and others. Not surprisingly, sometimes this has resulted in the chagrin of the resident experts, enlivening no small debate and disagreement. But none would deny that when Bauckham weighs in on a topic, the dialogue is affected and the interlocutors must take note.

Is there anything that drives all of this scholarly output and ties it all together? Richard’s recent autobiographical reflections reveal that there is—a love for history.¹ He recounts the beginnings of his passionate drive to understand the past with an anecdote from his early adolescent years. When given the assignment to write an essay about a book he had read over the summer holiday, thirteen-year-old Richard chose to write about the ICC volume on Ezra-Nehemiah that he had spent the summer reading, resulting in his own original theory as to how this part of Israel’s story fit together historically! Looking back over the subsequent fifty-seven years of his scholarship, this love for figuring out the past proves to be the lodestar that grounds and guides Bauckham’s varied and adept contributions to our understanding of the world. When one reconsiders Richard’s scholarly output, the golden thread of history—especially making good historical arguments and dismantling bad ones—appears throughout nearly everything he has done.

But Richard is also more than a scholarly historian. He is also a Christian. This means he has, for as long as he can recall, been a believer in the grand tradition of historical Christian orthodoxy and more personally, its risen God-Man Jesus. This fact of who Richard is has obviously guided his interests and his lifelong commitment to the church in service. Yet at the same time, this personal commitment has not driven him to do his scholarship as a sort of apologetic for the faith. Often his positions have supported traditional and evangelical understandings, resulting in his popularity among more conservative scholars. But by his own confession, this has never motivated his scholarship explicitly. Rather, he is a Christian historian, with both of those descriptions fully up and running. He is a Christian who does historical work and he is a historian who is also a Christian.

As to the more traditional biographical facts, Richard was born in London on September 22, 1946. Upon entering university he read history at Clare College in Cambridge (1966–1972) and then was a Fellow of St John’s College (1972–1975). He was granted the MA and PhD degrees, writing a dissertation on a sixteenth-century apocalyptic theologian, William Fulke. During his time in Cambridge he also attended the New Testament seminars of C. F. D. Moule, to whom Richard counts much of his initial training in NT studies.

Bauckham commenced his professorial career by teaching theology for one year at the University of Leeds, followed by two different fifteen-year teaching posts, providing a nice symmetry that defines his vocation. The first of these quindecim stints was as Lecturer and then Reader in the History of Christian Thought at the University of Manchester (1977–1992). His interests in eschatology and connecting theology to contemporary life deepened during this time, resulting in publication on subjects such as theology and the nuclear debate, in addition to the well-regarded Word Biblical Commentary on 2 Peter and Jude.

Looking back, these years prove to be the calm before the storm of Richard’s massive output that corresponded with his move to the second fifteen-year post—as Professor of New Testament Studies (later Bishop Wardlaw Professor) at the University of St Andrews, Scotland (1992–2007). These years were remarkably productive for Richard, with monographs and articles spanning many subjects including Second Temple Jewish literature, Revelation, James, the Book of Acts, apocalyptic literature, Christology, and the Gospel of John. This is in addition to supervising many postgraduate students, lecturing in Bible and theology to undergrads, giving various lectures throughout the world, and serving in St Andrew’s Scottish Episcopal Church in St Andrews (affectionately known as St Andrew’s, St Andrews).

In 2007 Richard retired and returned to Cambridge, living within walking distance of the University and Tyndale House. He continues to research and write and serves as a senior scholar at Ridley Hall in Cambridge and visiting professor at St Mellitus College in London. He also does some teaching for an MA course and remains involved in discussion groups with students. Richard continues to travel extensively, giving lectures and teaching both in academic and church settings. Always a mind awake, he continues to pursue new lines of academic interest, including most recently, trips to Galilee to research the ancient town of Magdala.

Richard is a Fellow of the British Academy (FBA) and Fellow of the Royal Society of Edinburgh (FRSE). He has also been a member of the Doctrine Commission of the Church of England. In addition to being the invited lecturer in many venues throughout the world, Richard’s books have also won several awards, including the 2007 Christianity Today book award in Biblical Studies for his Jesus and the Eyewitnesses. For this book he also won the prestigious Michael Ramsey Prize (2009). In 2010 his volume The Jewish World around the New Testament won the Franz-Delitzsch Award.

In addition to his academic scholarship, Richard is a great lover of poetry and fiction and has produced much of both. He has written several poems, some for publication, in addition to many in his beloved form of Haiku.² Since his childhood he was an avid reader and collector of the cartoon world of the Moomins, created by the Finnish artist and author Tove Jansson.³ His love for Haiku, thoughtful and mysterious children’s literature, and his time in Scotland conjoined in Richard’s two children’s novellas, The MacBears of Bearloch, and The MacBears and Bishbirds.⁴

The editors and contributors to this volume in honor of Richard Bauckham count it a great privilege to have known him as a scholar, mentor, and friend.

1. See his delightful chapter in John Byron and Joel Lohr, eds., I (Still) Believe: Leading Bible Scholars Share Their Stories of Faith and Scholarship (Grand Rapids: Zondervan Academic, 2015), 17–28.

2. See the Bibliography and http://richardbauckham.co.uk/index.php?page=poetry.

3. https://www.moomin.com/en/history/.

4. These can be read at http://www.richardbauckham.co.uk/index.php?page=macbears.

Witness

(For Richard Bauckham)

How it happens still a mystery—

Two gospels say two angels, two say one,

Rolled away the stone to raise God’s son,

Who in taking flesh joins history.

Do the women run to tell the men

Or bewildered do they just sing dumb,

Fearing still Christ’s tomb from which they come?

So to truth not fact we say amen.

Matthew’s women run to share delight;

Mark’s unsure, still fear where Christ has gone.

Human Matthew, Mark and Luke and John

Catch time’s sacred bird to snatch in flight

Shimmering perspectives on the past

Four believing witnesses broadcast.

Micheal O’Siadhail

Introduction

The breadth and extent of Richard Bauckham’s influence in so many areas of biblical and theological scholarship renders the prospect of including all the scholars who would want to honor him an impossible task. For purposes of brevity contributions in the present volume are confined to senior scholars who had been close colleagues of Richard during his academic career, or who had been his most prominent interlocutors in the development of his own research, or through his Fellowship of the British Academy.

The result of limiting the contributors to a select few is itself a quite remarkable testimony to the significance of his work. The essays that are assembled in this volume have been contributed by some of the most eminent figures in modern biblical and theological scholarship. Some have taken elements of Richard’s work and developed it further, applying it in ways or to problems that were not in view in his own writings; some have presented fresh research of their own that aligns well with Richard’s own work over the years and stands fittingly alongside it; some have taken the opportunity to continue their debates with Richard, offering more critical thoughts and asking probing questions, though always with warmth and respect. Taken together, it is a fitting work of honor to a scholar whose mind has been restlessly inquisitive, and whose scholarship has seldom been limited by the usual boundaries of academic specialism. Richard has never been a scholar content to buttress and fortify his particular claims; he has always listened to critics, engaged with their arguments, and refined his own positions. Running through all such interactions has been an awareness that the various fields of research are interconnected and mutually informative and, in the end, demand something of us, as servants of Wisdom. For all its critical rigor, Richard’s work is not detached: it recognizes that the pursuit of knowledge and understanding brings with it responsibilities toward God and his world. So to truth not fact we say amen, as Micheal O’Siadhail writes in his contribution to this volume, the poem Witness. That beautiful line captures the recognition that Richard handles facts not as brute things to be owned and dissected, but as participants in the truth of God and his dealings with the cosmos. The essays that follow reflect such an interaction with Truth both in the broad, thematic sense (Part 1) and in the particulars of textual analysis (Part 2).

Part 1: Thematic Studies

In The Birth of God and the Resurrection of Life, Jürgen Moltmann’s task is one of reflection on the relation between incarnation and resurrection, beginning (§1) by asking: why the incarnation? Girded with patristic soteriology, Moltmann finds that Jesus of Nazareth became flesh in order to heal flesh, to enable humans to participate in the divine life of God. It transforms all things in him, evidenced already where reconciliation has occurred through faith in the cosmic victory of the risen Christ. For Moltmann the origins of the doctrine of the incarnation (§2) cannot be explained merely by the birth, life, ministry, even crucifixion of Jesus of Nazareth. Rather, the cognitive ground for the view of God’s incarnation is to be found in the resurrection and exaltation. In this way the incarnation presents the entirety of Jesus’s life and ministry in light of his resurrection. Here Moltmann finds an eschatological logic in which the last—Christ’s resurrection—reveals the first, his being the incarnate Son of God. The exaltation reveals Christ being the foundation of all things in creation, inaugurating the new creation in which all things receive their abiding form.

When considering what is meant by flesh (§3), Moltmann finds that all the meanings of the Hebrew word basar are present in the fundamental Christological tenet: The Word became flesh and dwelt among us and we beheld his glory. These include the whole human being, body and soul, indeed all living things. In this sense flesh may find a better rendering in life, which encompasses all components and is promised a common future in the kingdom of God’s glory in both the human and natural spheres.

The pneumatological principle that God’s Spirit is poured out on all flesh (§4) requires a distinction from the incarnation of Christ. The latter takes place for the benefit of many, whereas the former occurs so that the many—in the church and in the cosmos—may be united in the One, Christ. The pouring out of the Spirit uses a water metaphor that delineates the flow from the Spirit itself to the gifts it bestows, ending differences within the Spirit-imbued community. The patristic tenet of the resurrection of the flesh is Moltmann’s starting point for the final component of the Hebrew basar (§5). For him, the modern rendering of the resurrection of the dead limits the resurrection to a personal, human sense. But Moltmann sees the resurrection of the flesh far more comprehensively—it entails everything living. The earth also awaits its new creation, not in terms of eternal life but as the Nicene Creed has it: the life of the world to come. The cosmic implications are nothing less than the resurrection of life and the eternal life of the world to come. This is a cosmic eschatology achieved by the coming of God into this creation.

Jeremy S. Begbie’s Time and Eternity: Richard Bauckham and the Fifth Evangelist is a tribute to the capacity of Bauckham’s writings to engage issues beyond the traditional parameters of New Testament studies. While music is a world largely left out of Bauckham’s work, his biblically informed conception of time and eternity speaks to some leading musicological studies of Bach.

Begbie begins with an assessment of Karol Berger’s study of perceptions of time in modernity as exemplified in Bach’s music. Berger finds in the St Matthew Passion evidence of the suppression of linearity for the sake of a simultaneity of the present with little interest in the temporal ordering of musical events. Bach has achieved a timeless eternity in which a distinction between the present and past is neutralized. Though Berger presents this view as that of mainstream Christianity, Begbie finds difficulty in its conception of eternity as radically disconnected with, and ontologically superior to, time. Instead he turns to Bauckham’s probing on the biblical material on time and eternity to find a fundamentally different perspective, which recognizes the intrinsic place of time as a good dimension of God’s created order. For Bauckham, God’s eternity engages created time as an aspect of God’s self-revelation and saving action, and the temporality of the eschatological future is not simply an extension of this world’s time. Instead the new creation involves an all-encompassing recovery and transformation of created time, redeemed from transience along with the whole of creation. Bauckham’s model calls for a thoroughgoing orientation toward a radically new future for this world, and is thus not a license to withdraw from this-worldly responsibilities. Finally, Bauckham is cautious about the use of circular imagery with respect to the redeemed future because it precludes novelty. For Begbie, Bauckham’s conception more readily resonates with Christianity’s sacred texts than does Berger’s. Through careful investigation of Bach’s Lutheran context, and drawing on John Butt’s analysis of directionality in Bach, he presents a forceful case that Bauckham’s understanding resonates also with the composer’s theological outlook. Further, Begbie finds in Bach’s music evocations of a new creation that includes the possibility of novelty and change. Furthermore, he entertains the possibility of a change not from imperfect to perfect, but from one degree or form of perfection to another. If temporality is an aspect of the new creation, Begbie concludes it would have to be of a sort in which the dynamic was one of addition without loss, expansion without diminution, yet utterly consistent, never arbitrary, always resisting static completeness.

Trevor Hart’s essay, "Parmenides, Particularity, and Parousia: Identifying the One Who Will Come to Judge the Living and the Dead, builds upon one of Bauckham’s less well-known articles, a piece titled Christology Today" that was published in the South African journal Scriptura in 1988. There, Bauckham asserts the soteriological significance of the human particularity of Jesus, resisting the common tendency to see this as a scandal, a theological problem to be overcome in some way. Particularity is essential to human existence; it is, indeed, a universal of the humanity redeemed by the Son of God that we are particular and that our relations are governed by this truth. Hence, since humanity does not exist as an abstraction but only in the form of particular human lives lived, this same Son of God embraced to the full the contingency of historical existence, becoming the particular man Jesus of whose actions, words, and suffering the gospels are concerned to tell us.

As an example of a theologian who believes such a position to be problematic, Hart notes the work of Daphne Hampson, who considers the maleness that is particular to the incarnation of God in Jesus of Nazareth to have generated androcentric views of divinity in western thought. In Hampson’s case, this rests in turn on her sharing of the traditional theological premise that like can only be saved by like, demonstrated by her own extended reflection on the problems generated by the maleness of Jesus for the traditional maxim that what is not assumed is not healed. Precisely for this reason, Hampson finds the male particularity to be a scandal. In distinction to Hampson, though, Bauckham asserts that the redemptive significance of Jesus involves a constant interplay of sameness and difference, a differential solidarity. This involves the difference between the created and the uncreated, and between the good and the bad, but also involves the complex of differences that ground relationality.

This, for Bauckham, establishes the place that the gospel narratives of Jesus’s life have in the experience of salvation: there we encounter the particularity of Jesus redemptively, and our redemption requires such an encounter. Hart traces this further, though, into the eschatological realities of ascension and parousia: precisely because salvation involves the particularity of Jesus, it cannot be reduced to a universalism that does not assert the personal significance of Jesus for the one who is saved. Hart does not see this as shrinking the scope of salvation, though, and the key to understanding this is an affirmation of the continuing activity of the unique man Jesus beyond the limits of this present time and place. Once the limits of our earthly span are rightly reevaluated in the light of eternity, the scope of the saving work of Jesus can also be extended, but without losing sight of his personal and dynamic involvement, in the way that so much modern theology does.

David Brown affirms and then probes Bauckham’s theology of ecology and the environment, particularly his challenge to the dominance of the stewardship model of ecological concern. Bauckham argues that this neglects the solidarity between humanity and all other created beings—our participation in the community of creation—and that a rounded theological account of ecology must do justice to the biblical material that depicts such solidarity, resisting the influence of Stoic thought, which considers animals simply to be there for human use, with no obligation devolved upon humans for their care.

In his contribution, The Bible and Wider Culture: Animals as a Test Case, Brown agrees with the core of Bauckham’s case, particularly as it responds to Lynn White’s (in)famous claim that Christianity, in assigning a place of superiority to humanity, is responsible for the environmental crisis. White’s conclusion fails to recognize that human superiority is found widely in ancient thought, in material that antedates Christian influence. Nonetheless, some pagan material (e.g., Plutarch) affirmed the value of animals in their own right. So the later position within the history of Christianity cannot be wholly blamed on a monolithic classical culture. Brown argues that it was precisely because some elements in the biblical picture seemed so congruent with Stoic ideas that Stoicism in effect won the day. Brown’s far-reaching essay moves at pace through a range of texts from the classical world, from the Bible itself, and from historical theology, as he approaches his conclusion that the partial congruence of biblical material with Stoic thought helps to explain the shape of the dominant view in the tradition, that humanity is something apart from and above the rest of the created order, including the animals.

Although not questioning the rightness of the conclusions, Brown notes two Christian theological claims that were particularly influential in the dynamic of this process. First, the abolition of animal sacrifice from Christian practice entailed a desacralization of animals; for those unaware of the necessary holiness of those things offered upon the altar, this is an important observation, particularly when one reflects on the persistence of the view that human life (by contrast) is sacred. Second, the doctrine of incarnation—the taking of specifically human flesh by the Son—left a sense that human life had a special significance, different from all other life. Beyond these points, though, Brown’s essay presses toward a more significant point of practical difference with Bauckham: where Bauckham finds a neglected richness in the biblical material itself, Brown finds some of that material complicit with regrettable tendencies elsewhere and thus requiring to be transformed by the developing world of knowledge outside it. Whether Bauckham quite suggests the degree of scriptural self-sufficiency that Brown suggests is open to debate,¹ but for readers willing to reflect seriously on this fundamental difference of approach, Brown’s essay will contribute in fascinating ways to the question of theological method that runs through so much of Richard’s work.

Larry W. Hurtado’s contribution, Worship and Divine Identity: Richard Bauckham’s Christological Pilgrimage, focuses on those features of Bauckham’s scholarly work that have been most intertwined with his own, particularly the study of earliest reverence for Jesus. Bauckham has shown that the exalted Jesus is widely treated as the rightful co-recipient of heavenly praise and worship. For Hurtado the quick exaltation of Jesus to cultic reverence is perhaps the key indicator of the distinctive nature of the young Jesus-movement. In this respect Jesus is revered along with God, not in place of him. There is no new cultus or separate deity. However, Bauckham’s contention that this reflects the inclusion of the risen Jesus within the divine identity raises three questions for Hurtado.

First, Hurtado asks why Bauckham’s divine identity is incompatible with the view that the concept of a chief agent may have provided earliest Christianity with a category by which to accommodate the unique relation of Jesus with God and his superiority to all other beings. For Hurtado, there is sufficient evidence that Second Temple Jews did often think of God as having one or another particular figure distinguished from all the rest of the divine retinue and functioning as the unique agent of his purposes.

Second, Hurtado asks whether Bauckham gives an adequate explanation for how and why Jesus was included within the divine identity so rapidly and so early in the post-Easter period. For Hurtado, the answer to why certain texts were so central and distinctively interpreted lies in the powerful experiences of earliest believers that conveyed new convictions about Jesus’s exalted status. These convictions prompted them to search their scriptures, finding the heavenly exaltation of Jesus in Psalm 110:1, for example. Their understanding, then, was not founded upon extant exegetical methods from antiquity, but prompted and guided by revelatory experiences of early believers in Jesus and their conviction that God had exalted Jesus to heavenly glory and now demanded that he be reverenced.

Third, Hurtado questions whether Bauckham is correct that the inclusion of Jesus as co-recipient (with God) of cultic worship is adequately understood historically as a corollary of Jesus’s inclusion in the divine identity. Not only is this lacking in the NT writings themselves, but it also remains unclear how Jewish believers would so readily amend their devotional practice to include Jesus. Instead, for Hurtado, the inclusion of Jesus into the devotional practice of early Jewish believers could only have emerged among Jews based on the strong and novel conviction that it was required by God himself.

Recognizing that not only is Jesus’s significance defined with reference to God, but that God is also now identified with reference to Jesus, Hurtado suggests that in the New Testament the understanding and representation of divine identity is adjusted accordingly: the emphasis on the centrality of Jesus now renders inadequate any description of God made apart from reference to him.

Philip Alexander’s essay, ‘The Agent of the King Is Treated as the King Himself’: Does the Worship of Jesus Imply His Divinity?, engages with the pivotal issue of Jewish monotheism, and the related question of monolatry, around which Bauckham’s arguments for an early high Christology turn (and which are crucial also to Larry Hurtado’s account of Christological development, reflected in his own contribution to this volume). Alexander begins by questioning whether the specifically apocalyptic trope of an angel refusing worship is necessarily evidence for widespread strict monotheism in early Judaism. Rather, he considers the trope to be something of a genre marker, a theme that gives a certain unity to particular writings, rather than one intended to radically distinguish Jewish views of true worship from those held by others. This serves as the departure point for an examination of the key texts from the Old Testament/Hebrew Bible generally brought forward in support of the view that early Judaism was stringently monotheistic, including the Shema and the creation accounts. These, in fact, bear witness to the presence in earlier Israelite circles of either non-monotheistic or more loosely monotheistic views than sometimes acknowledged, with these reflected (even negatively) in the monotheistic assertions. Alexander acknowledges the response that Bauckham and others might make, that such early Israelite views do not have material bearing on the beliefs held in a much later period by Second Temple Jews. Yet, he finds evidence that the variegation of views concerning divine uniqueness persisted into later Judaism, reflected in the complex representations of heavenly figures such as Metatron, the Second Yahweh, or agents of divine activity, such as Wisdom or the Memra. If such ideas can be found in very early and very late texts, with a measure of continuity identifiable between them, then should we not be cautious of identifying late Second Temple Judaism, specifically, as more stringently monotheistic? Running through the evaluation of the texts and their handling is a sensitivity to the questions of function and ontology and to the language used to describe them.

Alexander’s critical engagement with Bauckham’s arguments sits nicely alongside the contributions of Hurtado and Dunn. Taken together with Bauckham’s own writings, with which they engage, they constitute a sophisticated scholarly debate about the conceptuality, language, and attested praxis found in the New Testament writings, set within their complex historical contexts. The debate will undoubtedly continue for years to come, but the present collection of essays constitutes a particularly important contribution to it, one shaped by the programmatic work of Bauckham in this area.

James D. G. Dunn’s essay asks the question, What would Christianity have looked like without Paul? The question is not asked out of contempt for Paul, but as a thought experiment intended to highlight the extent of the apostle’s influence on the fundamental character of developing Christianity. In particular, the question is focused on the development of the Jesus movement from that of a Jewish restoration community to one principally Gentile in composition, asking about the part that Paul, specifically, played in this development. Here, Dunn’s question draws upon the legacy of Bauckham’s work on the relationship of the New Testament writings, and within them the letters of Paul, to the Jewish world from which they emerged.

Dunn approaches the question by moving through the wider New Testament and analyzing how each author represents the Jesus movement in relation to the story of Israel and the practices/beliefs of Judaism, on one hand, and the Gentile world, on the other. He pays particular attention to the identity markers of Judaism, circumcision and the food laws, and how these are represented in the works of each writer. In Dunn’s analysis, the commitment of Paul to the abolition of such markers, and his determination not to capitulate on this—explored in the final part of the essay, as Dunn turns to the Pauline material itself, sets him apart from the other New Testament writers. Effectively, Dunn shows how distinctive Paul is within the wider body of New Testament writings. His conclusion is a provocative one: If we owe Christianity’s universal character in such large part to Paul, do we also have to acknowledge that his universalizing mission was what in the event caused the schism between Judaism and Christianity? It is a fascinating point of dialogue with the work of Bauckham, which has devoted such attention to the relationship of early Christian theology to its Jewish contexts.

Part 2: Textual Studies

N. T. Wright’s God Put Jesus Forth: Reflections on Romans 3:24–26 builds on some of the core observations made by Bauckham in his seminal study, God Crucified.² There, Bauckham considered the early Christian reading of Isaiah 40–55 and its role in the identification of Jesus in relation to the work of Israel’s God. Where Bauckham’s discussion is particularly oriented toward Christology, however, Wright’s focuses on soteriology, particularly on the conceptuality of atonement. Reading this key text against a properly understood Jewish background leads to a very different understanding of atonement than that commonly taken, particularly in Protestant scholarship.

Wright’s argument begins by considering some of the problems with traditional readings of Romans 3:24–26 (a discussion that he acknowledges to have been developed in dialogue with the recent doctoral research of Norio Yamaguchi). First, the view that the death of Jesus is represented in these verses as involving substitutionary punishment is demonstrated to be problematic: such conceptuality is incompatible with the imagery of cultic sacrifice in Judaism, in which the victim is always sacred and holy, not impure, and is never punished. Second, Wright notes the necessary distinction between being justified by [the Messiah’s] blood and being saved from anger (or wrath) in Romans 5:8–10. The two are logically linked, but are not identical, and much confusion is saved by recognizing the distinction. Third, the covenant associations of dikaiosynē are asserted: the word here does not mean something radically different from its usage in the Old Testament, where it points to God’s faithfulness to maintaining his covenant relationship with Israel. If this is acknowledged, the covenant associations of the other key terms in the text are also recognized. For Wright, only an a priori rejection of the covenantal implications of such language by scholars can explain their refusal to admit it to the interpretation of this verse.

Having made these core observations, Wright approaches the text of Romans 3:24–26 according to the terms of his own recent major interpretation of Paul, the title of which neatly captures what he sees to be at work in this verse: Paul and the Faithfulness of God. That is, he understands Paul to represent the death of the messiah as an act of covenant faithfulness on God’s part, bringing to fulfillment the same plan to redeem humanity from sin that involved the covenant with Israel. In particular, this reading involves a careful contextualization of the verses in question into Wright’s fresh interpretation of 2:17–24 and Romans 4; these, taken together, point inward to the way in which precisely by remaining faithful to the covenant with Israel in the sacrifice of Jesus, God has dealt with the problem of worldwide human sin. A crucial element in this is provided by the narrative of Isaiah 40–55, and particularly by the distinctive reading of Isaiah 53 that came to be influential in early Christian theology. Here, the intersection of Wright’s work with that of Bauckham is clearest: truly a conversation between giants.

In Jesus the Baptist: The First Temptation of Christ, Sean M. Mc-Donough draws upon Bauckham’s contributions to the study of John’s Gospel. Bauckham has resisted the tendency to see the Fourth Gospel as the product of a community, somewhat estranged from the wider church, and has instead asserted its historical value as a witness to the ministry of Jesus, intended to complement the other circulating gospels, and associated with the testimony of a disciple close to Jesus. McDonough focuses particularly on the accounts of a baptizing ministry performed by Jesus in John 3–4, tracing some of the evidence that supports the historical veracity of the accounts and then examining the theological motivations behind their inclusion in the Fourth Gospel, and their location in the narrative. Such discussions, of course, also require some reflection on why there is no report of Jesus baptizing in the Synoptic Gospels and