This is not a conclusion. The report has ended; the history moves on. No progress has been completed, no goal achieved. The study of the NT continues in each age according to the needs of the time. Although lessons have been learned from the past, NT research does not advance cumulatively or by the paradigm shifts of Thomas Kuhn’s scientific revolutions. NT research uses elements of scientific method, but it is not a science. It deals in ideas, beliefs, traditions—the lives and hopes of humans.
What are some of the lessons learned in the recounting of the history? Fundamental is the study of the sources. Since the eighteenth century the sources used in NT research have multiplied exceedingly. At that time no one could have predicted the discovery of hundreds of scrolls in Judean caves or a jar containing codices in the Egyptian dessert (chap. 4). As a result of the first discovery, scholars were supplied with a multitude of texts in Aramaic, previously represented by a relatively small number of manuscripts. Manuscripts of the OT, a thousand years older than the extant manuscripts, provided the source for new critical texts, the basis for better translations. The Dead Sea Scrolls also provided firsthand information about a Jewish sect parallel in time to another sect that came to be called the Christian church.
The codices found near Nag Hammadi offered new information about the development of early Christianity, especially Christianity beyond the borders of orthodoxy. Whereas earlier knowledge had come mainly from their orthodox opponents, now firsthand information was available from the “heretics” themselves. Among the texts were documents formerly known only from secondhand reports. The newly-discovered material included a full text of the Gospel of Thomas, a collection of sayings reminiscent of the hypothetical Q and possibly preserving early, independent tradition about the teachings of Jesus (Robinson and Koester). The direct data about Gnosticism supplied new ammunition for the battle over pre-Christian Gnosticism, an issue important for Bultmann and his friends (and foes).
The twentieth century also saw the development of devices for the preservation and analysis of this extensive source material. Digital photography and computer technology made possible the collection and facsimile reproduction of manuscripts. Where once it was necessary to travel to libraries and distant monasteries to study texts, now all extant manuscripts can be copied and collected in a single center like the Institut für Neutestamentliche Textforschung at Münster (chap. 4). Whereas concordances were formerly produced by scholars laboriously listing and tabulating words, now scholars can make sophisticated searches by touching a key on the personal computers on their desks.
Important developments have been made—here it is possible to speak of progress—in textual criticism (chap. 4). In contrast to Westcott and Hort, who listed not a single papyrus, the 27th edition of the Nestle-Aland text cites over a hundred papyri. New ways of collating the multitude of manuscripts, like the “Claremont Profile Method” and Münster’s “test-passages” method, have been developed. The application of these methods has contributed to the ongoing effort to publish critical editions that attend to virtually all the extant variants—the International Text Critical Project and the Editio Critica Maior. As in other areas surveyed in this volume, textual criticism has become sensitive to the social and ideological dimensions: how the development of the text has been shaped by the beliefs and practices of the people who copied and used it (Ehrmann, Epp). Most innovative is the rejection of the ideal of the “original text,” now replaced by the view that the text is a process (Parker).
Attention has been given to linguistics and grammar. The Blass-Debrunner grammar that had become standard in Germany was translated into English, and Robert Funk produced a grammar of his own, making use of the insights of modern linguists. Virtually every commentary reviewed in this volume, from Taylor to Betz, has attended to the language and grammar of the NT texts. Attention has also been given to the nature of NT language, especially its poetic and mythic character (Bultmann, the Bultmann School, Knox, Minear, Betz). Several scholars have given attention to ancient rhetoric, for example, in the study of parables. However, the use of classical rhetoric as the key to investigating NT documents is a distinctive contribution of Betz.
Historical backgrounds, as in the earlier history of religion school, hold a prominent place. The import of the OT for understanding the NT is again and again emphasized. The tension between the alternative contexts—Jewish vs. Hellenistic—continues, though the lines have blurred (Hengel). A tendency with the more “conservative” scholars (Jeremias, Bruce, Dunn), but also with the more “liberal” (Martyn, Keck) is to emphasize the Jewish context. Stress on the Hellenistic backgrounds (and Gnosticism) is found all the way from Dodd to Betz, and especially with Bultmann and his followers, who still attend the history of religion school. In regard to Jewish backgrounds, a “new perspective” has been proposed (Davies, Sanders, Dunn). Most important, the old caricature of Judaism as a legalistic foil for free and vital Christianity has been abolished. Archaeology, a discipline long used to illuminate the historical context of early Christianity, has spawned new methods. Again, the social emphasis of the “new archaeology” has moved beyond the steps of Jesus to the daily lives of persons in Galilean villages (chap. 4).
The discipline of Introduction, once designated “higher criticism,” is represented in this volume primarily by two examples (others have been mentioned, including Marxsen, Brown, and Cullmann): the work of Kümmel (for some years standard in Germany, replaced by the Introduction of Udo Schnelle) and the two volumes of German-American Helmut Koester. These works follow the traditional pattern, although Koester insists that early Christian literature should not be limited to the books of the NT canon. On critical decisions the two scholars agree on major points: the adoption of the Two-Document Hypothesis (2HD), the acceptance of seven authentic Pauline letters (plus 2 Thessalonians and Colossians, according to Kümmel), Acts as a secondary source for the life and thought of Paul, and the Catholic Epistles as pseudonymous. The twentieth century saw the development of redaction criticism, a method that complemented form criticism. Whereas form criticism emphasized the function of the gospel writers as collectors of tradition, redaction criticism affirmed their work as authors: literary composers with convictions of their own.
The traditional way of understanding early Christian tradition—as the work of anonymous reporters and the collection of early written fragments—was challenged; a larger role was assigned to the oral tradition—a tradition direct from Jesus to select witness to faithfully written Gospels (Gerhardsson). Also challenged was the majority solution to the Synoptic problem, the 2DH. Some (advocates of the Two-Gospel Hypothesis) attacked the priority of Mark while others (advocates of the Farrer-Goulder Hypothesis) pleaded for dispensing with Q. Most scholars were not persuaded, and the 2DH survived the storm and prevailed, but with much less self-confidence. In the mean time, advocates of the existence of Q explored the document in detail, detecting various strata in the document and reconstructing the evolving Q community and its theology. While the majority remain convinced of the existence of the Q document(s), most did not believe a hypothetical document could sustain the sort of precise analysis the Q scholars advanced.
The Gospel of John remained a battlefield as the twentieth century produced a shelf of superb books on the Fourth Gospel. Dodd’s two volumes are significant. In the first he presents numerous Hellenistic parallels; in the second he detects an independent historical tradition. Bultmann’s magisterial commentary surmises three major sources, used in an innovative gospel that was later rearranged and domesticated by an ecclesiastical redactor. Käsemann made the bold suggestion that John betrays a veiled docetism. Virtually opposite is the view of Hengel, who thinks the tradition contained in the Fourth Gospel had its source in John the Elder, a Palestinian eyewitness of events in the life of Jesus. Schnackenburg’s multivolume commentary (4 vols. in German; 3 in English translation) makes a major contribution to Johannine research. He tends to be conservative, detecting the original source of the tradition in John, the “Beloved Disciple”; the background is primarily found in the OT and Judaism; John is a theological gospel, but not without historical significance. Brown’s monumental two-volume commentary also supports the idea of independent tradition, enlisted in the service of profound theology. Brown, along with others (Cullmann, Martyn), offered a hypothetical history of the Johannine community that produced the Gospel, Epistles, and Revelation. Barrett published an excellent commentary (essentially a collection of notes) on the Greek text of John. Unique in the history of Johannine research is Martyn’s imaginative presentation of the Gospel as a two-level drama.
Making use of many of the subdisciplines, scholars have engaged in extensive exegesis of the NT documents. Their work was prefaced by reflection on hermeneutics, the philosophical question concerning the essential nature of interpretation. This question had been raised by Barth and especially by Bultmann’s method of demythologizing. It was more fully explored by members of the Bultmann school, the advocates of the “new hermeneutic,” inspired by the philosophy of the “later” Heidegger. This question emerged again in the work of Cullmann, Knox, and especially Minear, who viewed the NT with the eyes of faith. Dunn discusses the issue, and, for Schüssler Fiorenza hermeneutics is of crucial importance. Regardless of hermeneutical presuppositions, scholars reviewed in this volume—from Taylor to Betz—composed a large library of commentaries. Some of these are mammoth in size: Barrett’s two-volume commentary on Acts, Dunn’s two-volume Romans, Betz’s massive volume on the Sermon on the Mount. A distinctive kind of work is Brown’s two-volume Death of the Messiah, a commentary on the passion narrative of all four Gospels. Along with the major commentaries on the Fourth Gospel, the twentieth century witnessed the publication of other significant commentaries: Taylor’s Mark, Käsemann’s Romans, Martyn’s Galatians, Furnish’s 2 Corinthians.
The major subjects of NT research are Jesus and Paul. Work on Jesus reviewed in Chapter 1 (Taylor and Manson) is reminiscent of the nineteenth century: the “liberal” Jesus is the center of Christianity, but the life of this Jesus was driven by his messianic consciousness, his full awareness of his role as Suffering Servant and Son of Man. Cadbury, by way of contrast, warned of the peril of modernizing Jesus, and conversely of the danger of archaizing ourselves. Bultmann’s Jesus was “bearer of the word,” and Bornkamm, despite his disclaimers, almost produced a biography. Jeremias (and Funk) gave attention to the parables. Scholars explored and disagreed about Jesus’ understanding of the kingdom: present (Dodd), future (Sanders), present and future (Kümmel and many others). Sanders, reminiscent of Schweitzer, recognized the importance of apocalyptic for understanding the life of Jesus. With Funk, the strident skepticism of scholars like Reimarus was revived. In contrast is the informed and nuanced approach of Keck. For Schüssler Fiorenza, Jesus is Miriam’s child, the prophet of Sophia who welcomed women into his community. Life of Jesus research reached a high point with Meier. His massive volumes, composed with careful attention to context, criteria of authenticity, and exegetical detail, constitute a monument to historical-critical research.
Paul, too, was given much attention in the century. He was brought to the center with Barth’s Romans and kept there by Bultmann, though nudged by a Paulinized John. For Käsemann the theocentric apocalyptic Paul with his doctrine of justification was clearly the center. Bornkamm’s popular Paul is a genuine biography, but extensive attention is given to the apostle’s theology. Davies rejected the idea of justification as the center and depicted Paul in the garb of the rabbis. Sanders also rehabilitated Paul, discovering in the traditional Lutheran view the seeds of a malevolent anti-Judaism. Bruce presents a masterful portrait of Paul—his life, letters, and theology—thoroughly researched, lucidly written. The old notion of Paul as the second founder of Christianity has been laid to rest. Paul, however, is viewed as the first, and for some (Dunn, Martyn, Keck) the NT’s most important theologian; others (Sanders, Knox) were less enthusiastic.
NT research in the twentieth century was preoccupied with biblical theology. This, of course, was instigated by Barth, whose shadow extended over the century. But attention was given to Christology by Taylor, who scarcely tipped his hat to Barth. With Bultmann, NT theology was practiced by a scholar skilled in the disciplines of historical criticism. Bultmann’s anthropocentric theology was replaced by the theocentric apocalyptic of Käsemann. Jeremias, with his notion that the ipisissma vox of Jesus could be recovered, presented a unique Christology, by implication the Christology of Jesus himself. Similar is Hengel’s notion that the “messianic secret” has its origin with Jesus. NT theology took special (but not new) shape with Cullmann’s history of salvation. For Cullmann the theology of the NT traced a timeline that extended from creation to the consummation, with Christ the midpoint and decisive event. For Minear the view of history was more complex: a cosmic battle, a transcendent reality, perceived by the eyes of faith, explicated by myth and symbol.
Dunn’s most important book is on the theology of Paul, viewed in the context of the OT and Judaism: indeed, a Judaism that Paul understood better than the Jews. For Dunn (as for others like Cullmann, Brown, and Keck), the center of NT theology was Christology, explicated by titles preserved in the biblical record (according to Keck, a dubious method). Knox, with his usual sensitivity, produced a trilogy of small books on Christology, wary of exaggerating the divinity of Christ, stressing the importance of understanding Christ in the context of the Christian community. The theological ethic of Paul is thoughtfully explicated by Furnish. Some of the larger questions—the nature of revelation, the authority of the Bible—that had been posed by the biblical theologians (Barth, Bultmann, the Bultmann school) were given attention (by Dodd, Jeremias, Marxsen, Schnackenburg, Brown, Knox, Cullmann, Minear, Bruce, Dunn, Schüssler Fiorenza, Keck). These scholars provided a variety of answers, but the questions continue as an ongoing concern. Attention was given to canon and canon within the canon (Käsemann, Marxsen); Knox notes the role of a heretic in the development of the canon, and Koester appreciates noncanonical literature, whereas Bruce affirms the role of the Spirit in the collection of the canonical books.
In the twentieth century the historical-critical method has come under attack. The method has, nevertheless, survived, and indeed prevailed.[1] The attack, in the main, has charged historical criticism with failure to accomplish goals it never (or should never have) promised. The notion that all the historical-critical and exegetical problems could be solved, given time and effort, is a grand illusion. The belief that the life of Jesus, the theology of Paul, the history of the early church could eventually be reconstructed and finally explicated is misguided. History is not that kind of discipline. Equally mistaken is the supposition that skilled practitioners of the historical method could be completely objective. The lack of objectivity is evident in the fact that capable scholars, using the same method, have produced different results. Absolute objectivity is impossible, but within a discipline like history a consensus of fundamental practices and procedures makes possible a high degree of objectivity.[2] Within this limited objectivity there is a dialectic that acknowledges that objective knowledge involves the subjectivity of the knower. Everyone, of course, subscribes to Bultmann’s oft-quoted opinion that exegesis without presuppositions is impossible.[3] However, this dictum does not mean that “anything goes”; some presuppositions are less possible than others. Like Bultmann, the one who presupposes must base his/her presuppositions on some epistemological or ontological ground, an issue that needs ongoing attention.
A major promise of the historical method in its early days was the liberation of the Bible from the domination of ecclesiastical authority: a democratizing of the study of the Bible. Despite the suspicions of the Jesus Seminar, this goal has largely been achieved. Indeed, it is striking that scholars of the most hierarchical authority of all—the Roman Catholic Church—have embraced historical criticism and become some of its most accomplished practitioners. However, the NT that escaped ecclesiasticism faces a more subtle threat—the scholarly captivity of the Bible. As this chapter has demonstrated, the discipline of NT research has become increasingly complex. The complete NT scholar should be a master of several ancient languages, skilled in the various sub-disciplines of textual criticism and archaeology, conversant with the history of Judaism and Greco-Roman culture, expert in linguistic and rhetorical criticism, sensitive to theological issues—and more. A perusal of this book suggests that some indeed are able historical-critical-exegetical virtuosi. The solution to the problem is not to take the Bible from the scholars and give it back to the people. Without historical scholarship the Bible remains mute. The text of the NT is the product of historical research. The translation of the Bible is accomplished by scholars. Without knowledge of the historical context, interpretation of the NT is moribund. What is needed is not less historical scholarship but continued research at the highest level, translated into the language of the common people. Some of the scholars reviewed in this volume have effectively done both. It is not necessary to be a professional biblical scholar to understand the Bible, but understanding the Bible requires the results of biblical scholarship.
And so the basic method—the collection and analysis of sources, the formulation of hypotheses, the rational testing of the hypotheses, and the synthesizing composition—proceeds. In the twentieth century attention has been given to social concerns, and methods from the social sciences have been appropriated; these do not replace but merely complement the historical-critical method. But why is a historical understanding of the NT important? Would it be more appropriate, for example, to read the Bible as a devotional book, enriching the spiritual and moral lives of the readers? The historical critic cannot restrict the uses of the Bible; after all, the Bible is the church’s book. However, the historical scholar will insist that historical criticism is essential to understanding the NT according to its essential character. For some—I speak for myself—this insistence has a theological ground: Christianity is a historical religion; it is not a religion of the book but a religion of the person. The NT is the record of the revelation of God in a historical person. To understand that book and that revelation, historical research is necessary. The Word became flesh in history; the Word continues to live in historical witness.