Im Evangelium des hl. Matthaeus finden wir manche Dubletten (Doppelberichte, wo ein Faktum oder ein Wort nochmals erscheint) und einfache Wiederholungen. Zu diesen kann man die zusammenfassenden Berichte iv. 23 und ix. 35 rechnen: ‘Und er zog umher…lehrte in ihren Synagogen, predigte die Frohbotschaft vom Reich und heilte jegliche Krankheit…’; ebenso die fünfmalige Überleitung ‘Und es begab sich, als Jesus diese Worte (Gleichnisse, Unterweisungen) beendet hatte…’ (vii. 28; xi. 1; xiii. 53; xiv. 1; xxvi. 1). Eigengut des Mt. ist auch die mehrmals wiederkehrende Schlußbemerkung: ‘Hinausgestoßen in die Finsternis draußen (Feuerofen), wo Heulen und Zähneknirschen ist’ (viii. 12; xiii. 42, 50; xxii. 13; xxiv. 51; xxv. 30). Nur ein einziges Mal finden wir diesen Satz bei Lk. (xiii. 28), aber auch da nicht in demselben großen Zusammenhang wie bei Mt. viii. 12. Obwohl Lk. die Gleichnisse vom bösen Knecht (Mt. xxiv. 51; Lk. xii. 46) und vom faulen Knecht (Mt. xxv. 30; Lk. xix. 27) auch hat, gibt er die Bestrafung doch mit anderen Worten wieder. Diese Wiederholungen darf man wohl ohne Schwierigkeit auf das Konto des Verfassers setzen, der damit die äußerste Strafe, die der Herr androhte, sinngemäß mit diesen Worten wiedergibt, wenn der Heiland selbst die Worte auch nicht sooft gebrauchte.

When Mark wrote his gospel, the kerygma had long since conquered the world. Paul had overcome a religion of the law limited to Israel and to a few proselytes who were courageous enough to pledge themselves to a total obedience to the law. Colossians, Ephesians, the hymn in I Tim. iii. 16 and the post-Pauline doxology Rom. xvi. 25–7 show how enthusiastically the triumphal journey of Christ through the world was praised. A most imposing ‘theology of the kerygma’ was arising. However, what had all this to do with Jesus? Was not the theology of grace, the emphasis on justification without the works of law all that was needed? Palestine was far away, and very few would have known about that remote corner of the earth with its strange population and its superstitious habits. Thus, Jesus was a mere name without much meaning, a symbol, maybe, for the kerygma, but not more. Why, therefore, not connect the kerygma with Hermes or Attis or any other saviour? The Gnostics were about to draw this consequence

Mein verehrter Vorgänger als Präsident unserer Societas, Père Benoit, hat uns im vergangenen Jahr durch eine anschauliche Schilderung der Erlebnisse eines Knaben bei der Besichtigung eines Ozeanriesen die Gefahr vor Augen gestellt, die uns alle immer wieder bei unserer wissenschaftlichen Beschäftigung mit dem Neuen Testament bedroht, daß wir nämlich über der Fülle des unvermeidlichen wissenschaftlichen Stoffes nicht mehr die Zeit and Ruhe finden, die Texte selber wirklich zu uns sprechen zu lassen. Er konnte uns freilich gegen diese Krankheit auch kein Allheilmittel anbieten, hat uns stattdessen aber zu einem Ausblick eingeladen, der die großen Themen der paulinischen und johanneischen Theologie zu einander in Beziehung setzte. Wenn ich Sie heute dazu einlade, diesen Vergleich nach rückwärts fortzusetzen und die Theologie des Paulus neben die Verkündigung Jesu zu stellen, so kann ich mich eines doppelten Unbehagens nicht erwehren. Einerseits muß ich mir die Frage stellen, ob man einem so weit ausgreifenden und schwierigen Thema in der kurzen Zeit eines Vortrags überhaupt gerecht werden kann, selbst wenn man sich das Ziel einer Weiterführung der Probleme gar nicht steckt. Andererseits aber muß ich befürchten, daß Sie mir die Frage stellen, ob mit der Behandlung dieses Themas nicht ein Problem wieder aufgerollt wird, das einmal vor einem halben Jahrhundert aktuell gewesen ist, das aber heute nicht mehr im Zentrum des Interesses steht and als erledigt angesehen werden sollte.

It is admitted that the celebrated Pericope de Adultera is a piece of authentic tradition going back to the beginnings of the church, though it is extracanonical and its text evidently suffered from its independent wanderings before it found its way into the canonical gospels. It was readily used to show that, as our Lord was supposed to have shown mercy, if not actually unasked forgiveness, to an adulteress, so the church ought to deal leniently with offenders. Other doubtful interpretations have been and are placed on the passage; and the story, as it lies baldly on the paper, might well give offence. Perhaps this helps to explain why it was not used by the compilers of our gospels. In any case it has its obscurities, and it is the purpose of this paper to attempt to clear them up. From the material submitted here it may be possible, by the use of strict reasoning, to recreate what actually took place.

For more than one hundred years scholars have endeavoured to discover and separate the sources or literary strata believed to be embedded in the Gospel of John. Previous attempts to explain the origin of the Fourth Gospel by theories of a Grundschrift or literary sources and redaction, not to mention rearrangement, found their culmination and were probably superseded when, over twenty years ago, Rudolf Bultmann set forth a comprehensive literary theory in his magisterial Das Evangelium des Johannes. Bultmann's work has given a measure of unity to the subsequent discussion of the literary problem where it has been taken into account. Those who sharply disagree with Bultmann have found it a convenient bench-mark by which to gain a perspective on the problems of the gospel. His theory, worked out in most minute detail, involves the evangelist's use of sources, the presumably accidental disruption of the original textual order, and the (incorrect) restoration and editorial expansion of the text by an ecclesiastical redactor. Any discussion of recent developments in this area will naturally and appropriately begin with his work.

Die Versuche, auf Grund von Apok. xvii. 9–12 über die Abfassung der Schrift Klarheit zu gewinnen, sind überaus zahlreich. Viele Ausleger haben an diesem Text ihren Scharfsinn erprobt. Trotzdem ist man über plausible und vorzuziehende Lösungen nicht hinausgekommen.1 Die Schwierigkeit liegt bekanntlich darin, daß die Reihenfolge der römischen Kaiser nur mit Mühe den einzelnen Aussagen angepaßt werden kann. Sie lauten:

Our Bibles have a margin of Synoptic cross-references beside the Epistles: what does it really mean? What literary relationships exist between the Epistles and the Synoptics? I here pass by three kinds of agreement.

The story in Luke xxiv. 13–35 of the manifestation of the risen Lord to the disciples on the road to Emmaus is relevant for the understanding of Luke as an author since it has no parallels in the New Testament, apart from the spurious ending of the Gospel of Mark. Among the apocryphal traditions too there is only a Coptic fragment of a rather recent age which contains the beginning of it; and both of these seem closely connected with the Lukan tradition. Nevertheless, it seems to me unwise to regard the whole of Luke xxiv as one unit, as has been done recently by P. Schubert. For the general impression made by the story is that it forms an independent piece which, for a time, had existed outside the Third Gospel. This impression is strengthened by an old tradition which gives us the name of the second disciple. Luke xxiv. 18 mentions, almost accidentally, Cleopas as the name of one of the disciples, but keeps silent about the other. We learn, however, from Origen that his name was Simon.

Certain considerations make the subject of the ‘world’ peculiarly interesting to Christians at the present time.

‘World’ may refer to the wonderful, vast universe in which we live. The more we explore its farthest reaches, the more we win ascendancy over its invisible forces and energy, the more are we being challenged to defend the doctrine that this world is a created order and is everywhere sustained by an intelligent Being. Is there in fact any purpose or any meaning to be discerned in it?

Motivated by the suggestions of Rudolf Bultmann and Ernst Käsemann, the redaktionsgeschichtlich method has been recently applied to the Gospel of Luke and the Book of Acts with noteworthy success. Hans Conzelmann made the initial study and his work has been carried on by Ernst Haenchen and J. C. O'Neill. Though these men do not agree in every detail on the theological purpose of Luke-Acts, there is nonetheless a striking unity among them. This article is based upon the general conclusions shared by these scholars, though it will seek to go beyond them by showing that the Lucan birth stories are integral to that purpose and not irrelevant (Conzelmann) or incidental (O'Neill) to it. It is in order first to review briefly the present situation as to the theological purpose of Luke-Acts.

In September 1945 members of the Museum of Jewish Antiquities of the Hebrew University excavated a burial chamber near the Talpioth suburb of Jerusalem. The tomb, which was cut in soft limestone, was furnished with five loculi (kokhim) or burial recesses together with a number of ossuaries, that is small stone boxes containing the bones of corpses which had first been laid within the loculi and then transferred to such a box once the flesh had decomposed. Early rumours concerning the nature of these ossuaries gave rise to sensational press-reports of ‘what is believed to be an eye-witness account of the death of Christ’ which ‘may give first hand testimony to the trial and death of Jesus’. But it was not until 1947 that a comprehensive account of the finds was published by Dr E. L. Sukenik, the director of the excavations and the greatest living authority on ossuaries.

Why does the tide ‘Son of David’ occur more frequently in Matthew than in the other Gospels? Do these more numerous references serve any real purpose in Matthew? It is not enough merely to say that they occur because the First Gospel was written by a Jewish Christian (or Christians), for the Fourth Gospel does not have the phrase at all. Other than the discussion of Christ's Davidic sonship which is to be found in all three of the Synoptic Gospels (Matt. xxii. 41–5; Mark xii. 35–37a; Luke xx. 41–4), Mark, followed by Luke-Acts, has the phrase ‘Son of David’ only in the twofold appeal to Jesus for healing by a single blind beggar (Mark x. 47, 48; Luke xviii. 37, 39). Matthew, on the other hand, calls Jesus the Son of David in his opening sentence (i. I), follows it up with a genealogy to prove it (i. 2–16), alludes to it at least twice more in the infancy narrative (i. 20 ii. 6), and records the title as related to Jesus during his ministry seven times in the mouths of others on five separate occasions (ix. 27; xii. 23; xv. 22; xx. 30, 31; xxi. 9, 15) where, as will be shown, it is used messianically.

(5) Wenn wir nach den grundsätzlichen Betrachtungen im vorigen Heft der N.T.S. (S. 303 ff.) jetzt zur Behandlung der neuen Papyri im einzelnen gelangen, empfiehlt es sich wohl, mit 66 zu beginnen. Sein erster Teil (Joh. i–xiv) war 1956 von V. Martin herausgegeben worden und ist dementsprechend im ersten Bericht behandelt worden (.N.T.S. III, 1957, 279 ff.), nachdem ich an anderer Stelle bereits eine Neukollation veröffentlicht hatte (Theologische Literaturzeitung, 87, 1957, 161–84). 1958 erschien, wieder von V. Martin herausgegeben, der Supplementband mit den Fragmenten zu Joh. xiv–xxi. Trotz einer ins einzelne gehenden Untersuchung — oder vielmehr gerade ihretwegen — hatte ich dazu geschwiegen. Nachdem 1962 dieser Supplementband in einer ‘Nouvelle edition augmentée et corrigée avec reproduction photographique complète du manuscrit’, herausgegeben von V. Martin und J. W. Barns, erschienen ist, ist es an der Zeit, das bisher Versäumte nachzuholen.