Christology (NT)

Christology (NT)

By James D. G. Dunn

The main object of NT Christology is to trace the emergence of Christianity’s distinctive claims regarding Christ as documented in the writings of the NT.

A. Introduction

1. Aim. Prior to Jesus’ ministry, we can speak only of a diverse Jewish hope of a new age often involving one or more intermediary or redeemer figures—messiah, prophet, exalted hero, archangel, even God himself. A century later all these categories and more were either superseded or focused in one man, Jesus Christ. Ignatius spoke of Jesus in straightforward terms as “our God, Jesus (the) Christ” (Eph. 18:2; Rom. 3:3), and showed how Christology was well on the way toward the classical credal statements of the ecumenical councils. “There is one physician, who is both flesh and spirit, born and yet not born, who is God in man, true life in death, both of Mary and of God, first passible and then impassible, Jesus Christ our Lord” (Eph. 7:2). In the course of that hundred years, the claims of Christianity appeared and began to take definitive shape. The NT contains that first flowering and enables us to appreciate a good deal of how and why it came about and took the forms it did.

2. Method. Since a transition is involved, at the very least, from Jewish expectations to Christian faith, a developmental approach has been chosen. This assumes that a tradition-history analysis is able to uncover the main outlines of Jesus’ own convictions and teaching, and similarly that sufficiently reliable information can be had about the beliefs of the earliest Christian congregations. Thereafter we can trace the teaching and emphasis of the individual NT writers themselves, following consensus dating and location where necessary. This approach, of course, will not reveal all that Christians said about Christ during that period, but the NT writings were obviously regarded as of more than passing significance from the first and therefore can be said to have preserved the most influential material from the foundational epoch.

NT Christology could properly confine itself to a description of the Christology of each individual document, seeking to demonstrate such correlation and coherence as seems appropriate. Several standard treatments have focused on titles; and though titles cannot tell the whole story, the emergence and use of certain titles can tell us a good deal. Dissatisfaction with an excessive emphasis on titles has more recently resulted in calls for different approaches—motif-centered, transformation of categories, conceptual trajectories, and the like. The following analysis will use all these methods, as seems appropriate.

Most attempts to write a NT Christology also use the benefit of hindsight and global perspective to trace the larger patterns and developments of which individuals were a part. They describe the process by which the earliest Christological formulations came to expression, as it were, from “outside.” The danger of such an approach is that it reads back later developments into the earlier material; it fails to respect the inevitably more limited horizons of the writers themselves. We will attempt the more difficult task of describing the process from “inside.” That should not prevent us from recognizing any new or previously unexpressed formulation. On the contrary, we should be better able to distinguish the genuinely new from mere variation or transfer categories.

3. Chief Impulses. The principal stimulus in the formulating of NT christology was threefold: (1) the impact of Jesus, including the impact of his ministry in style and content as well as of his teaching in particular; (2) the impact of his death and resurrection; (3) the experience of (many of) the first Christians in which they recognized further evidence of Jesus’ power and status.

The material with which NT christology worked was again primarily the first Christians’ memories of Jesus and their own experience. But a principal tributary was the various main features of Jewish hope seen to cohere in Jesus. Also of increasing importance over the hundred-year period under review were various categories of wider currency in the Greco-Roman world.

B. Christological Claims Attributed to Jesus

Did Jesus have a Christology? That is, did he make significant claims regarding himself? The Synoptics and John’s gospel are most markedly different at this point. Whereas in the latter Jesus’ claims for himself are a prominent feature chapter after chapter, in the former he seems on the contrary to want to avoid drawing attention to himself. Since John’s Christology is so distinctive in comparison with the others, it is best to confine attention here to the Synoptics and treat John separately below.

1. Jesus and Jewish Expectation. At the time of Jesus, Jewish hope embraced a variety of messianic and/or prophetic categories.

a. Royal Messiah. Son of David (as in Isa 11:1–5; Pss. Sol. 17:23; 4QFlor 1:10–13). This was probably the figure of the popular hope—a new king to restore Israel’s independence and greatness. It is likely that anyone who roused the sort of popular interest and excitement which John the Baptist and Jesus provoked would have been regarded as a candidate for such a messianic role (cf. John 1:20, 6:15). And a basic fact is that Jesus was executed as a messianic pretender—King of the Jews (Mark 15:26 pars.). In the hearing before Caiaphas the question was also probably raised, “Are you the Messiah, son of the Blessed?”—on the basis of the accusation about destroying and rebuilding the temple seen in the light of 2 Sam 7:13–14, interpreted messianically (as in 4QFlor). The distinctive features of Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem and of his symbolic action in the temple (“the cleansing of the temple”) would almost certainly have raised the same issue in broad (eschatological) or specific (royal messiah) terms. It would hardly be surprising then if his closest followers had themselves raised the question at an earlier stage of his ministry, particularly in the light of the success and popularity it clearly enjoyed (so Mark 8:27–30. pars.).

The key question, however, is how Jesus reacted when this option was put to him. And the answer of the earliest traditions seems to be, not very positively. He never once laid claim to the title on his own behalf or unequivocally welcomed its application to him by others. Mark 6:45 strongly suggests that he rejected the messianic role of popular anticipation (cf. John 6:15), and Mark 8:30–33 and the entry into Jerusalem portray a rather different model. So far as we can tell, he did not reject the title “Messiah” outright when put to him (Mark 8:30, 14:62, 15:2), but as currently understood it was evidently unsuited to describe the role he saw for himself. It needed the events of the cross and resurrection to reshape and fill the title with new content for the first Christians.

b. Priestly Messiah. In one or more strands of pre-Christian Judaism a priestly messiah was accorded greater significance than the royal messiah (e.g., T. 12 P.; 1QSa 2:11–22). But apparently this was never seen as an option for Jesus, presumably because he was known to be of a tribe other than the tribe of Levi.

c. The Prophet. Jewish expectation took various forms here—the return of Elijah (Mal 4:5; Sir 48:9–10), the prophet like Moses (Deut 18:15, 18), and an unnamed or eschatological prophet (Isa 61:1–2; 1QS 9:11; 11QMelch). Whether these were different expectations or variants of a single expectation is not clear, and probably was not clear then either. What is clear, however, is that there was a readiness to recognize Jesus as a prophet or the prophet (Mark 6:15 par.; 8:28 pars.; John 6:14; 7:40, 52), though it should not be forgotten that others were accorded the same title in this period (Mark 11:32; John 1:21; Joseph., Ant 18:85–87; 20:97f., 167, 169–72, 188).

Jesus himself seems to have accepted the designation in some degree (Mark 6:4 pars.; Luke 13:33) and in particular to have used Isa 61:1–2 as a program for his mission (Matt 5:3–4 = Luke 6:20–21; Matt 11:5 = Luke 7:22; Luke 4:18–19). He also seems deliberately to have engaged in prophetic or symbolic actions (particularly the action in the temple and the Last Supper). But at times there are hints that he saw his role as transcending that of the normal prophetic figure—Mark 12:1–9, the claim, “I came,” rather than, “I was sent” (as in Mark 2:17 pars.); and the use of the formula, “But I say,” rather than the more typically prophetic, “Thus says the Lord.”

d. Healer. Although miraculous restoration of physical faculties was expected to be a mark of the new age (Isa 17–19, 35:5–7), it was not particularly associated with any of the above figures. Healings and exorcisms were widely practiced in the ancient world, by pagans and Jews (Mark 9:38–39, Acts 19:13–19; Josephus, Ant 8:45–49). So although it is beyond dispute that Jesus was known as a successful healer and exorcist, it is not clear whether much significance would have been read into this activity by his contemporaries.

Jesus himself, however, seems to have seen in his own ministry clear evidence that God’s final rule was already beginning to operate through his exorcisms (Mark 3:23, 27; Matt 12:28 = Luke 11:20; Luke 10:18) and healing (Matt 11:5–6 = Luke 7:22–23). This self-estimate included a claim to a plenary anointing by God’s spirit, which marked out his ministry as distinctive and which should have been sufficiently clear to his critical onlookers (hence also Mark 3:28–29 pars.). Also distinctive was his exorcistic technique, since he seems neither to have used physical aids nor to have invoked some higher authority in a formula of adjuration. We may properly infer a consciousness on his part of his own authority or of an immediacy and directness of empowering from God (Mark 11:28–33 pars.).

e. Teacher. Jesus is regularly called teacher in the tradition (Mark 5:35; 9:17, 38; 10:17, 20, 35; etc.), and his characteristic style as a “parabolist,” one who spoke in parables and pithy sayings, is clearly enshrined in the Synoptics. This would be relatively unremarkable in itself, except that the authority with which Jesus taught seems to have provoked surprise and question (Mark 1:27 par., 6:2 par., 11:28 pars.). In a large part this must have been because of the same immediacy and directness which his teaching style embodied—the lack of appeal to previous authorities, the typical “Amen” with which he often began a saying, and not least his readiness to dispute established rulings even if given by Moses himself (as in Matt 5:31–42).

As Jesus evidently saw himself as God’s ambassador and spokesman (Mark 9:37 pars.) and as the climax of the prophetic tradition, so he may have seen himself not simply as a teacher of wisdom but as the eschatological emissary of divine Wisdom (Luke 7:31–35 par.; 10:21–22 par.; 11:49–51 par.). Such self-understanding must lie behind his pronouncement of sins forgiven without reference to the sacrificial cult (as in Mark 2:10) and the exclusiveness of the claim he made for his teaching and call (Matt 7:24–27, 10:32 pars., 10:37 par.).

In short, none of these various categories available or applied to Jesus seem to have proved entirely suitable to describe the role Jesus saw for himself. Four of the five caught aspects of his work, but only aspects.

2. Jesus’ View of His Own Role. The evidence reviewed above indicates that Jesus saw his ministry as having a final significance for his hearers. He saw himself as the eschatological agent of God. This self-understanding seems to have been encapsulated in two modes of self-reference.

a. Son of God. This title, which eventually became the title for Christ in the classic creeds (God the Son), at the time of Jesus had a much broader reference and simply denoted someone highly favored by God. Hence it could be used of Israel (as in Exod 4:22), of angels (as in Job 1:6–12), of the king (as in 2 Sam 7:14), of the righteous man (as in Wis 2:13–18), or of (other) charismatic rabbis (m. Ta˓an. 3:8). The process by which the first Christians commandeered this title and gave it exclusive reference to Jesus is reflected in its increasing significance in the Gospel traditions during the second half of the first century—as indicated by the number of times Jesus speaks of God as his father (Mark 3 times, Q 4, Luke’s special material 4, Matthew’s special material 31, John over 100).

There is sufficient indication that the process that permitted Christians to call Jesus Son of God had already begun with Jesus himself. The basic data is Jesus’ habit, as it appears to have been, of addressing God as “Father” in his prayers (as in Matt 11:25–26 = Luke 10:1–22; the only exception being Mark 15:34). The word used was almost certainly the Aramaic ˒abbā (so Mark 14:36), since it was evidently remembered and treasured in the Greek-speaking churches as characterizing the sonship of Jesus (Rom 8:15–16; Gal 4:6). The point is that “abba” is a family word, expressive of intimate family relationship. So the deduction lies close to hand that Jesus used it because he understood (we may even say experienced) his relationship to God in prayer in such intimate terms. And though he evidently taught his disciples so to pray (Luke 11:2), the same Pauline passages clearly indicate that this mode of prayer was seen as something distinctive of the Christians in their dependence on the Spirit of the Son. To that extent at least we can say that the process of narrowing the concept of divine sonship by reference to Jesus did indeed begin with Jesus. Whether Jesus made this a subject of explicit teaching, however, may be doubted, since Matt 11:27 and Mark 13:32 in particular may already evidence some of the christological intensification which comes to full expression in the fourth gospel. But at least we can say that the directness and immediacy of his relationship with God noted above seems to have cohered for Jesus in his “abba” prayer.

b. Son of Man. As our records stand, this seems to be the most obvious example of a self-chosen self-designation (e.g., Mark 2:10, 8:31, 14:62). But the significance of the phrase has been disputed in NT scholarship throughout this century.

Certainly, the phrase must go back to Jesus in some form. It belongs almost exclusively to the Gospels (82 out of 86 times), and in the Gospel it appears in effect only on the lips of Jesus. Apart from Acts 7:56 we cannot speak of a “Son of Man Christology” outside the Jesus tradition. The most consistent explanation is that the usage originated in the Jesus tradition, and that means, in this case, with Jesus himself. That is not to exclude the likelihood that a number of particular examples within the Jesus tradition reflect some editorial reworking of the tradition (as in Matt 16:28). But even that reworking follows what was probably the established and therefore original pattern of a speech usage confined to Jesus’ own words. It must have been a firm and clear characteristic of Jesus’ speech.

In some instances at least he seems to have used the phrase in the normal Aramaic idiom—“son of man” = man (cf. Ps 8:4), though with something of a self-reference (the polite English style of referring to oneself by the general “one” is a useful parallel). This usage is probably reflected in such passages as Mark 2:10 (the use of the phrase occasions no surprise or offense in the story) and 2:28, and the variant traditions of Mark 3:28–29 pars. are best explained by an ambiguous son of man/man formulation in the original Aramaic. It would also explain why “I” appears in place of “the Son of Man” in other parallel traditions (as in Luke 6:22 = Matt 5:11; Luke 12:8 = Matt 10:32). In such cases, of course, the phrase would not have had a titular significance to start with.

The alternative suggestion that the phrase was already firmly established in Jewish thought as a title for a heavenly redeemer figure is not securely grounded. In Dan 7:13 it is not title: the manlike figure represents Israel over against the beastlike figures which represent Israel’s enemies in a creative reuse of the familiar creation mythology—the saints of the most high fulfilling Adam’s role of dominion over the rest of creation. Jewish apocalyptic writers certainly interpret the Dan 7:13 vision with reference to a heavenly redeemer, but in each case (Similitudes of Enoch and 4 Ezra) the implication is that this is a fresh interpretation of the Daniel passage. The date of the Similitudes is disputed but a date prior to Jesus cannot be assumed, and 4 Ezra is certainly later than a.d. 70. Nor is there any indication whatsoever that Jesus was thought to have identified himself with an already known redeemer figure of Jewish expectation or that such an identification needed to be confessed or defended. The likelihood that it was Jesus himself who first drew upon Dan 7:13 to interpret his own role is part of the larger question which follows.

3. Jesus’ View of His Death. It is highly probable that Jesus foresaw the likelihood of a violent or ignominious death. This was the typical fate of prophet and righteous man in Jewish tradition (Wis 5:1–5, Matt 23:29–37 par.), as his immediate predecessor (John the Baptist) showed all too well. The hostility which resulted in his eventual crucifixion must have been evident some time before that (cf. Mark 3:22 pars., 14:8 pars., Matt 23:37 = Luke 13:34), and the prophetic action in the temple certainly invited the retaliation which soon followed. The sayings tradition which can be traced back to Jesus with some confidence suggests that Jesus saw a fuller significance in his death. The “cup” sayings (Mark 10:38 par., 14:36 pars.) evoke the OT image of the cup of God’s wrath (as in Isa 51:17–23), and the “baptism” and “fire” sayings (Mark 10:38, Luke 12:49–50) probably take up the Baptist’s metaphor of a fiery baptism to represent the final tribulations which would introduce the end. In applying such images to himself, Jesus presumably implied that his death was to have some sort of representative or vicarious meaning.

If, in addition, the Son of Man passion predictions (Mark 8:31, 9:31, 10:34) already contained, in their original form, an allusion to the manlike figure of Daniel’s vision, an even more explicit representative significance would be hard to exclude (= “the saints of the most high”). Similar implications are involved in Mark 10:45 and 14:24, though a more direct allusion to the suffering servant of Isa 53 is harder to sustain at the earliest level of the tradition.

It is also highly likely that Jesus expected to be vindicated after his death. The pattern was already well established in Jewish reflection on the suffering of the righteous (Isa 53:10–11; Dan 7; Wis 5:1–5; 2 Macc 7:23), and hope of vindication after enduring the eschatological tribulation would be an obvious way to correlate his expected suffering with his confidence in God’s coming reign (as Mark 14:25 confirms). If he did express this hope in terms of resurrection (Mark 8:31; 9:31; 10:34), it would presumably be the final resurrection he had in mind, since the concept of the eschatological resurrection of an individual seems to have emerged as a Christian perception of what had happened to Jesus.

In short, while we cannot say that Jesus placed himself at the center of his own message or called for faith in himself as such, neither can we say that Jesus simply saw himself as the eschatological proclaimer of the kingdom of God. The claim to be the medium of God’s rule, the sense of an immediacy and directness in his relation with God, and the expectation of representative death and vindication is well enough rooted in the Jesus tradition. It is also the sort of base we both need and anyway expect if we are to explain the subsequent development of christology.

C. The Beginnings of Christology Proper

Despite what has just been said, it is highly doubtful whether the movement begun by Jesus during his lifetime would have amounted to anything without the resurrection and the experience of the Spirit.

1. The Resurrection of Christ. The belief that God had raised Jesus from the dead was clearly foundational in shaping christology. It is the most prominent feature in the sermons in Acts, reflecting the emphasis both of Luke and of the material he uses (Acts 2:24–32; 4:1–2, 33; 10:40–41; 13:30–37; 17:18, 30–31). The pre-Pauline formula, “God raised him from the dead,” may justly be described as the earliest Christian creed (Rom 10:9, 1 Thess 1:10, Rom 8:11 (twice), Gal 1:1, Col 2:12, Eph 1:20, 2 Tim 2:8). The centrality of Christ’s resurrection for Paul himself is underlined in 1 Cor 15:12–20, particularly 15:17, and Phil 2:9–11. In all the Gospels the resurrection forms the climax to the whole presentation of Jesus. Its watershed character in determining christology is indicated variously: in Mark it resolves “the messianic secret” (Mark 9:9); similarly it is the hermeneutic key in John (John 2:22); Luke carefully monitors his use of the title “Lord” in reference to Jesus in acknowledgment of the fact that the title only became his by reason of the resurrection; and in Matthew it is only with the resurrection that the commission of Jesus becomes universal (Matt 28:18–20; cf. 10:5–6).

Even where the concept “resurrection” is not prominent, the significance of what happened to Jesus after his death is central in assessments of Christ and his significance, as in Hebrews (e.g., 9:11–12) and Revelation (e.g., 5:5). And elsewhere there seems to be no attempt to distinguish resurrection from exaltation (e.g., Acts 2:32–33; Phil 2:9; 1 Pet 3:21–22; John 12:32). Nevertheless, it remains a striking fact that the concept of “resurrection” became established from the first, rather than what might otherwise have been the more obvious and recognized category of vindication in heaven of the dead hero (see 2:2b above). Indeed the earliest formulations seem to have assumed that Jesus’ resurrection was the beginning of “the resurrection from the dead” in general (1 Cor 15:20; cf. Matt 27:51–53).

2. The Experience of the Spirit. That the outpouring of the Spirit expected for the last days was already a factor of their experience seems likewise to have been a basic and unifying claim of the earliest Christians. What is most relevant here is that the perceived influence of the Spirit seems also to have been a determinative factor in shaping christology. The Baptist’s prediction that the coming one’s ministry would be characterized by baptizing in Spirit is retained by all forms of the Gospel tradition (Mark 1:8 pars.). The Pentecost outpouring is attributed explicitly to the exalted Jesus (Acts 2:33). The identification of the Spirit as “the Spirit of Christ” evidently became soon established (Acts 16:7, 1 Pet 1:11, on Paul see below). So, too, the understanding of the Spirit as witness to Christ (Acts 5:32, Heb 2:4, 1 Pet 1:12, 1 John 5:7, Rev 19:11; on John see below). In Revelation the seven spirits of God (= the Holy Spirit) are depicted as the eyes of the Lamb (Rev 5:6).

3. Other Features of Early Christology. The search for scriptural explanations of what had happened must inevitably have been a primary objective for the first Christians. To show that Jesus was Messiah despite his shameful death would have been an urgent necessity, reflected in such passages as Luke 24:26, 46 and Acts 3:18, in the early formula “Christ died” (Rom 8:34, 14:9; 1 Thess 4:14), and in the established Pauline emphasis on “Christ crucified” (1 Cor 1:23, 2:2, Gal 3:1). Isaiah 53 undoubtedly came early into play (as in Rom 4:25, 1 Cor 15:3, 1 Pet 2:24–25), though allusions in Acts 3–4 highlight the suffering-vindication theme rather than that of vicarious suffering.

On the theme of Jesus’ exaltation, Ps 110:1 quickly became a basic proof text (as, e.g., in Acts 2:34; Rom 8:34; 1 Cor 15:25; Heb 1:3, 13; 1 Pet 3:22). Also, to lesser extent, Ps 2:7 (as in Acts 13:33, Heb 5:5). The consequence of such usage was to give what could be later regarded as an “adoptionist” ring to some early formulations (Acts 2:36, 13:33, Rom 1:4). More important, however, was the fact that these texts gave added impulse to the two titles for Jesus which were most capable of providing a bridge of communication for the Gospel from Judaism to the wider Hellenistic world—Jesus as Lord (1 Cor 16:22, Jas 5:7–8, and Acts 11:20, Rom 10:9 = pre-Pauline baptismal confession; Phil 2:9–11), and Jesus as Son of God (Acts 9:20, 1 Thess 1:9–10, Heb 4:14).

The early Christian use of these same texts left its mark on the Jesus tradition itself (as in Mark 1:11, 12:35–37, 14:24, 62, Luke 22:37), obscuring the issue of whether Jesus himself referred to them. The transformation of various “son of man” sayings within the Jesus tradition into full titular self-references with consistent if often implicit reference to Dan 7:13 must also have happened early on.

At the same time the use and reuse of the Jesus tradition throughout this whole period is sufficient indication of a lively desire to recall the words and character of Jesus’ ministry because of their continuing relevance. This remains a compelling deduction despite the relative lack of interest shown in the content of the Jesus tradition outside the Gospels. The Q collection, for example, reflects a strong concern to present Jesus as (eschatological) teacher of wisdom (particularly Luke 7:35; 10:21–22, 11:31, 49; 13:34). Besides this, it is inconceivable that substantial elements of the Jesus tradition were not passed on to newly established congregations (cf. Acts 2:42; 1 Cor 11:2; Col 2:6; 2 Thess 2:15). Such traditions must have provided a common ground between writer and readers to which allusion need only be made (e.g. Rom 13:8–10, 2 Cor 10:1, 1 Thess 5:2, Jas 5:12).

A strong feature of the earliest period was also the expectation of the imminent return of Christ. It was the corollary of the belief that Christ’s resurrection was the beginning of the final resurrection (see above), and is reflected in such early formulations as Acts 3:19–21, 1 Cor 16:22, and 1 Thess 1:9–10. The Son of Man material used by Q also reflects a keen interest in his coming in glory and judgment (Matt 19:28 par.; 24:27, 37, 44 par.). Such imminent expectation was slow to disappear, as the early letters of Paul demonstrate (1 Thess 4:13–18, 1 Cor 7:29–31), and retained a particular vitality in Jewish-Christian circles (Jas 5:7–8, Rev 22:20).

The short time lag anticipated between Jesus’ exaltation and return may be sufficient to explain why no interim function in heaven seems to be attributed to Jesus in the Acts material. On the other hand, the understanding of Jesus as heavenly intercessor must have emerged early, prior to its development in Hebrews (Rom 8:34), since the idea of heavenly intercession was already well established in Judaism (e.g. Tob 12:15; T. Levi 3:5, 5:6–7).

While it is impossible then to gain a detailed picture of this earliest stage of christology, a sufficiently clear and coherent outline can be reconstructed.

D. The Christology of Paul

The background of Paul’s christology has already in effect been given above. The impact of the Damascus road experience should not be underestimated (in view of 2 Cor 4:6 and Gal 1:16), though it can as easily be exaggerated. Likewise his continuing experience of being “engraced” or “enChristed” was fundamental (see section D.3. below). The most important other influences came through Hellenistic Judaism (see section D.2.). The 20th-century entrancement with the hypothesis that Paul adopted an already widely spread Gnostic redeemer myth is neither justified by the pre-Pauline sources nor necessitated by the Pauline material itself.

The distinctive Pauline contribution can be summarized under three heads.

1. Adam Christology—Christ as Man. It is a fundamental conviction of Paul that in his life and death Jesus was one with humanity in his fallenness and that his resurrection inaugurated a new humanity. The latter is explicit in the passages in which he sums up the whole sweep of human history in the two epochs of Adam and Christ (Rom 5:12–21; 1 Cor 15:20–22, 45–49). The former is implicit in his use of Ps 8:4–6 (1 Cor 15:27, Eph 1:22, Phil 3:21), as its fuller exposition in Heb 2:6–9 indicates. But it also comes to expression in Rom 8:3 (“the actual likeness of sinful flesh”), Gal 4:4 (“born of woman, born under the law”), 2 Cor 8:9 (“his poverty”), and Phil 2:7 (“form of a slave . . . as man”), though the majority of scholars would question whether these last verses are properly to be seen as expressions of Adam Christology.

As many of the above references also indicate, this representative function of Christ’s life achieves its point particularly in his death; if this one man dies, then all die (2 Cor 5:14). This dovetails with Paul’s readiness to interpret Christ’s death under the category of “sacrifice” or “sin-offering” (Rom 3:25, 1 Cor 5:7). As several passages clearly imply, Paul saw the “mechanism” of sacrifice in terms of representative “interchange” (2 Cor 5:21; Rom 8:3; Gal 3:13, 4:4–5). That is, the sinless one suffers the full effects of human sin (death) in order, not that death might be escaped (= substitution), but that the finality of death might be broken through a sharing in his death leading to resurrection (Rom 6:5–8, 8:17, Phil 3:10–11).

Since the obedience of his death was primarily an undoing of Adam’s disobedience (Rom 5:19, Phil 2:8), a voluntary embracing of the human lot which was the consequence of Adam’s folly, it is more accurate to speak of Christ’s role as inaugurator of a new humanity as stemming from the resurrection (1 Cor 15:21–22, Rom 8:29, Col 1:18). It is as resurrected, as “spiritual body,” that Christ is “last Adam” and pattern of the humanity which at last fulfills the divine purpose in creating humankind (1 Cor 15:45–49).

Somewhat surprisingly, some of Paul’s other distinctive emphases can be included under this head. In particular, his intensive use of “Christ” (already established as a proper name) in corporate imagery—the characteristic “in Christ” (about 80 times), “into Christ” (as in Gal 3:27), “with Christ” (as in Gal 2:20), and “through Christ” (more than 20 times), not to mention the “body of Christ” (as in Romans 12 and 1 Corinthians 12). The language refers to the identification with Christ made possible by Christ’s identification with fallen humanity—the process of salvation understood as a growing participation in Christ’s death with a view to a complete participation in his resurrection as the final goal (Rom 6:3–6; hence also the creation motif of “old nature/new nature” in Col 3:9–11, Eph 4:22–24). The Adam Christology corresponds with the understanding of the process of salvation as corporate, more than individual (cf. Eph 2:15, 4:13).

Other facets of Paul’s Christology also cohere effectively under Adam Christology. For obvious reasons this applies to the relatively less important theme of Jesus as God’s Son, as the prominence of this title in some of the material reviewed above makes clear (Rom 8:3, 15–17, 29; Gal 4:4–7; Col 1:13)—the risen Christ as the eldest brother in the eschatological family of God. But it applies even more to an important aspect of Paul’s most prominent designation for Jesus, that is “Lord,” since it is only as risen Lord that Christ fulfills God’s original intention in creating the first human—“to put all things under his feet” (1 Cor 15:25–27 referring to Ps 8:6). This may include the “Christus victor” theme of Col 2:15.

2. Wisdom Christology—Christ as Divine. Perhaps the most enduring development was the application of Wisdom categories to Jesus. Divine wisdom had long served as one of the most important bridge concepts for a Judaism seeking to present itself intelligibly and appealingly within the context of the wider religiophilosophic thought of the time. Within Judaism itself, Wisdom (along with Spirit and Word) was one important way of speaking of God in his creative, revelatory, and redemptive imminence (Proverbs, Sirach, Wisdom, Philo). Judaism’s distinctive claim was that this wisdom was now embodied in the Torah (Sir 24:23; Bar 4:1).

Already with Paul the equivalent association is being made between Wisdom and Christ (1 Cor 1:30)—that is, Christ as the embodiment of divine Wisdom and thus as the definitive self-expression of God (Col 1:19; 2:9). He uses Wisdom terminology boldly of Christ, particularly in speaking of his role in creation (1 Cor 8:6; Col 1:15–17). Whether he means by this that Christ himself was preexistent, as most conclude, or, more precisely, that Christ has assumed the role of preexistent Wisdom without remainder, is less clear. At all events, he has no doubt that it is Christ crucified who is the definition of divine Wisdom (1 Cor 1:24), the determinative revelation and redemptive act of God (2 Cor 5:19).

The element of ambiguity here is not resolved by other references. The concept of Jesus’ divine sonship provides an important bridge between Adam and Wisdom christologies, but the usage in Rom 8:3 and Gal 4:4 seems as close to the imagery of Mark 12:6 as to that of the Fourth Evangelist. Potentially more revealing is the title “Lord,” since it was such an important indicator of Christ’s status for Paul (note particularly Rom 10:9 and 1 Cor 12:3; well over 200 times in reference to Christ). Its use in Hellenistic religion for the cult god made it an important evangelistic and apologetic tool. Over against Hellenistic tolerant syncretism Paul claimed exclusivity for Christ’s Lordship (1 Cor 8:5–6, Phil 2:9–11, 1 Cor 15:25). In so doing he did not hesitate to apply OT texts referring to Yahweh to the Lord Christ (Rom 10:13; 1 Cor 2:16; Phil 2:10–11—using the strongly monotheistic Isa 45:22–23). Yet, at the same time, Paul evidently did not see such usage as an infringement on traditional Jewish monotheism (1 Cor 8:6; also 3:23; 11:3; 15:24, 28). To call Jesus Lord was as much a way of distinguishing Christ from the one God as of attributing him to God’s agency. Hence the frequent reference to “the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ” (Rom 15:6; 2 Cor 1:3, 11:31; Eph 1:3, 17; Col 1:3).

The question whether Paul called Jesus “God” does not provide much help on this point. For one thing, “God,” like “son of God,” did not have such an exclusive reference at this stage, even in Jewish circles (cf. Ps 45:6; 82:6; Philo, Sacr 9; Quaes Gen II. 62). And for another, the only clear occurrence comes in the late or Deutero-Pauline literature (Tit 2:13). In the strongly Jewish context of the earlier Rom 9:5 it is unlikely that any Jew would have read the benediction as describing “the messiah” as “God over all.” The fact that Paul evidently offered his prayers to God “through Christ” (Rom 1:8, 7:25; 2 Cor 1:20; Col 3:17) confirms that for Paul Christ’s role is characteristically as mediator. In other words, neither Adam christology nor Wisdom christology should be emphasized at the expense of the other.

3. Spirit Christology—Christ as Spirit. Although “Spirit” was virtually synonymous with “Wisdom” in pre-Christian Judaism (as in Wis 9:17), Paul did not take what might have appeared to be the logical step of identifying Christ with the divine spirit in the same way as he had identified Christ and Wisdom. The identification with Wisdom took in Wisdom’s role in creation; but the identification with Spirit is dated only from Christ’s resurrection (Rom 1:4, 1 Cor 15:45; but not 2 Cor 3:17, where “the Lord” is the Lord of Exod 34:34). Hence the strong degree of synonymity between Christ and Spirit in passages dealing with Christian experience (particularly Rom 8:9–11 and 1 Cor 12:4–6): it is in Christian experience of the divine that Christ and Spirit are one; Christ experienced not independently of the Spirit but through and as the Spirit.

This also means that for Paul christology becomes a controlling factor in pneumatology. Paul takes it for granted that the Spirit of God is known now only by reference to Christ—“the Spirit of sonship” voicing Jesus’ prayer, “Abba, Father” (Rom 8:15), the Spirit known by the confession “Jesus is Lord” (1 Cor 12:3), the Spirit who transforms us into the image of Christ (2 Cor 3:18). The Spirit can now be defined as “the Spirit of Christ” (Rom 8:9, Gal 4:6, Phil 1:19), and spirituality must be measured against the pattern of Christ crucified (2 Cor 4:7–5:5, 13:4; Phil 3:10–11). The Spirit is thus redefined as the medium of Christ’s relationship with his people (1 Cor 6:17). Beyond that it is much less clear that we can properly speak of an identification between Christ and Spirit. The Spirit is still preeminently the Spirit of God (Rom 8:9, 11, 14; 1 Cor 1:11, 14; etc.) and given by God (1 Cor 2:12; 2 Cor 1:21–22, 5:5; etc.). To speak of Christ as Spirit was evidently not the same as speaking of him as Wisdom and Lord. Judging by the convoluted syntax of Rom 8:11, Paul did not perceive the relation between Christ and Spirit in such clear-cut terms as that between Christ and Wisdom. In other words, even at this early stage, the redefinition of God in his immanent self-revelation, which developing christology was already occasioning, was throwing up factors which were not going to find easy resolution either in simple polytheism or in some more sophisticated “binitarianism” (the worship of two of the persons of the trinity).

E. Varied Emphases in Second-Generation Writings

1. Deutero-Pauline Letters. In Ephesians a distinctive note is struck immediately in the long opening benediction focusing on the theme of Christ as the predetermined redeemer and focus of cosmic unity in “the fullness of time” (Eph 1:3–14). The idea of Christ as the revelation of God’s hitherto mysterious purpose, already developed in Colossians (1:26–27, 2:2), is taken further and spelled out in still more emphatic terms (Eph 2:11–3:13). All this is a variation of Paul’s Wisdom christology (Col 2:3, Eph 3:10), integrating it more fully with Paul’s central concern as apostle to the Gentiles. Note also the fuller confessional material in Eph 4:4–6 and the more elaborate images of the body of Christ (4:15–16) and of Christ as husband of the church (5:23–27).

The Pastorals do not mark much further development in ways of speaking about Christ. The talk is still of Christ’s predetermined appearing to fulfill God’s purpose of salvation (2 Tim 1:9-10, Tit 1:2–3), and in Tit 2:13 the reference is not to Jesus as a second God but rather to “the appearance of the glory of our great God and Savior”—Jesus’ coming as the manifestation of the glory of the one God. The title “Savior” is much more prominent than in the earlier Paulines and is used equally of Christ as of God (especially Tit 1:3–4; 2:10, 13; 3:4, 6). But otherwise the christology is characteristically contained in what are already well-established credal and hymnic formulae (1 Tim 1:15, 2:5–6, 3:16, 6:13; 2 Tim 2:8; Tit 3:5–7), “the teaching which accords with godliness” (1 Tim 6:3). So, too, the talk of the second appearing has already assumed the more measured tones of a hope which no longer expects imminent fulfillment (1 Tim 6:14; 2 Tim 4:1, 8; Tit 2:13).

2. The Wider Circle of Pauline Influence. In 1 Peter we find the same conviction that Christ had been “predestined before the foundation of the world” and “manifested at the end of the times” (1:20)—clearly a widespread christological emphasis at this period. But distinctive of 1 Peter is the continual focus on suffering, and this determines the main christological concern. The Spirit is designated “the Spirit of Christ” as having predicted the prophecies of Christ’s sufferings (1:11). Christ was the spotless sacrificial lamb (1:19). In the fullest use of Isaiah 53 in the NT, Christ’s patience in suffering is held up as an example (2:21–25; similarly 3:17–18). In echo of the characteristic Pauline emphasis, experience of “the Spirit of glory” is linked with sharing in Christ’s sufferings (4:13–14). The vicarious effect of Christ’s suffering and death, however, was evidently linked in the author’s mind with Christ’s resurrection, which he also regards as a medium of salvation (1:3, 3:18–21). At the same time he gives evidence of the earliest speculation about Christ’s ministry between death and resurrection—preaching to “the spirits in prison” (3:18–20, 4:6). 1 Peter also contains one of the best examples of a collection of OT texts used for evangelistic or apologetic purposes—the “stone testimonia” (1:6–8).

Next to the Fourth Gospel, Hebrews has the most carefully worked out and sustained christology in the NT. It includes two of the most developed expressions of Wisdom and Adam christologies (1:2–3; 2:6–17). But its main objective is to present Christ as superior to all other potential mediator figures—superior as Son to the prophets (1:1–2), to the angels (1:4–16), and to Moses (3:1–6). The principal thrust, however, comes in the presentation of Christ as High Priest—not of Aaron’s line, though sharing the very human characteristics required of a good high priest (5:1–10), but of the order of Melchizedek (Ps 110:4) “by the power of an indestructible life” (7:16). As such he is superior to the Levitical priesthood as a whole.

This central thesis is worked out in 8–10 by means of a magnificent blend of Platonic idealism and Hebraic eschatology. As also in Philo, the earthly world of everyday perception is only a shadow and imperfect copy of the real heavenly world. So the tabernacle with its priesthood and sacrifice is only a shadow of the real heavenly sanctuary, and Christ is the real High Priest and his sacrifice (of himself) the sacrifice which alone suffices to purify the conscience and make the worshiper perfect. In the blend with Hebraic eschatology, the shadowy “here below” is identified with the preparatory “then” of the old covenant, and the heavenly real with the eschatological “now” of the new covenant. Thus priesthood and cult are shown to belong to the outmoded age of imperfect and preparatory shadow. Christ has opened the way once for all into the real inner sanctum of God’s presence. By such sophisticated means the writer clearly hopes to discourage his readers from harking back to the tangibility of the Jewish cult and to persuade them of the virtues of a Christianity whose only priest and atoning sacrifice is Christ, even if it means social ostracism (13:8–16).

Of the Gospels, Mark most closely shares Pauline concerns. His aim is to present Jesus as Christ, Son of God (1:1, 11). But if this claim is understood in terms simply of mighty works (as in 3:11 and 5:7), it is misunderstood (so also 13:22). Hence the secrecy motif (as in 3:12 and 5:43) and the theme of the disciples’ dullness (as in 4:13 and 8:14–21). Hence, too, at what is obviously the center and turning point of the gospel, Jesus responds to Peter’s confession, “You are the Christ,” by repeating the call for secrecy, and immediately goes on to teach that the Son of Man must suffer and be killed (8:30–31). The second half begins with the heavenly voice once again hailing Jesus as God’s Son (9:7), giving the stamp of divine approval to the christology and its consequences for discipleship just expressed (8:31–9:1). Thereafter the movement of the narrative is all toward Jerusalem, with repeated predictions of the imminent passion (9:12, 31; 10:33–34, 38–39, 45; 12:8; etc.). In the climax to the whole, the high priest poses the question of Jesus’ messiahship and divine sonship only to reject him (14:61–64), whereas, with supreme dramatic effect, it is the Roman centurion who at last makes the right confession, “Truly this man was God’s Son”—speaking of the crucified Jesus who has just died (15:39). In the light of this, several have concluded that Mark wrote his gospel with an object similar to that of Paul in 2 Corinthians 10–13—to correct a christology of glory (a so-called “divine man” christology), which emphasized too much the mighty works of Jesus, by means of a christology of the cross.

3. Luke-Acts. Any study of the theology of Luke must take account of the fact that he wrote two volumes. The significance of this fact is not reducible to the tracing of structural parallels (e.g. the two prologues and inaugural Spirit anointings—Luke 1–2 = Acts 1 and Luke 3:21–22 = Acts 2:1–4; the journey framework for narrative). Rather it implies that there is a continuity and interconnectedness between the two parts of Luke’s twofold composition which should prohibit us from drawing conclusions regarding Luke’s christology from only one part, or from one part independently of the other. So, e.g., Luke evidently did not think it necessary to include much reference to the ministry of Jesus in the sermons in Acts (only 2:22 and 10:36–39), since he could presume that his readers already knew the gospel.

In particular, the two-volume scope of Luke’s theology enables us to recognize the governing claim of his christology: that Jesus Christ is both the climax of God’s purpose through Israel and the center of history. Hence the counterpoint themes of continuity and discontinuity by which Jesus both links and separates the epochs which precede and succeed him. On the one hand, the climactic note of fulfillment which marks not least the periods of transition from one epoch to the other (from Israel to Jesus—Luke 1:67–79, 3:4–6, 4:16–22; from Jesus to church—24:26–27, 44–48; Acts 1:16–20; 2:16–21, 25–36). Likewise the subtle evocation of the Exodus theme in Luke 9:31 and 11:20, and the maintenance of a Moses/prophet christology across the divide of his two volumes (Luke 24:19; Acts 3:22, 7:37). With similar effect, and even more marked, his emphasis on the spirit, as both heralding the coming of the Christ (Luke 1:15, 41, 67; 2:25), as distinguishing his ministry in special measure (3:22; 4:1, 14, 18; 10:21; Acts 1:2, 10:38), and as poured out in eschatological fullness on the first believers (Acts 1:5, 8; 2:4, 17–18, 33; etc.).

On the other hand, the period of Israel becomes increasingly superseded. The Jerusalem temple, which provides an important focus of continuity (Luke 1:8–23; 2:22–51; 24:52–53; Acts 2:46; 3:1–10; 5:20–21, 42), is attacked by Stephen as “made with hands” (7:48; cf. v 41) and becomes the occasion for Paul’s final rejection and arrest (21:7–36; 26:21), a development complemented by Paul’s own increasing turning away from “the Jews” and to the gentiles (9:15, 13:45–50, 22:21–22, 28:25–28). The discontinuity between epochs is also marked christologically, in the depiction of the successive modes of relationship between Jesus and the Spirit—first, as the one whose human life is created by the Spirit (Luke 1:35), second, as the one who is uniquely anointed by the Spirit (3:22, 4:18; Acts 10:38), and third, as the exalted one who in his exaltation has received divine power to bestow the spirit (Acts 2:33), so that, as with Paul, the Spirit can be designated “the Spirit of Jesus” (Acts 16:7). The attempt to mark off the epoch of Jesus from the epoch of the Spirit by limiting the resurrection appearances to forty days so that there is a ten-day gap between ascension and Pentecost (Acts 1) is particularly noticeable.

An important factor in this reshaping of the christological focus of salvation history is the delay of the parousia. The extent of the delay envisaged by Luke should not be exaggerated: he still uses the language of imminent expectation in Luke 10:9, 11, 18:7–8, and 21:32. Nevertheless he does inject clear warnings of delay into the earlier tradition at Luke 19:11, 20:9, and 21:8, and in Acts a longer time scale does seem to be envisaged for the mission (Acts 1:6–8), with the talk of Christ’s parousia reading more like a doctrine of the last things than a threat pressingly close (Acts 10:42, 17:31, 24:25). This stretching out of the period between exaltation and parousia reinforces the impression that Acts has an “absentee christology,” with no further activity predicated of him other than through his name (Acts 3:6, 16; 4:10–12, 30; 10:43) or in visions (Acts 9:10, 18:9, 22:17–21, 26:13–19), in some contrast to the more intimate “in Christ” and mutual indwelling emphases of Paul and John.

Other distinctive features of Luke’s christology include his focus on “salvation.” Of the Synoptic Evangelists, only Luke calls Jesus “Savior” (Luke 2:11; in John only at 4:42) and attributes “salvation” to him (Luke 1:69, 2:30, 3:6, 19:9). The same emphasis is continued in Acts, in the use of both nouns (Acts 4:12; 5:31; 13:23, 26; 28:28) and of the verb (particularly 2:21, 4:12, 15:11, 16:31). Equally striking is the surprising lack of any clear atonement theology in Luke-Acts. As already noted, the references to the death of Christ in the Acts speeches, including the allusions to Jesus as “Servant,” emphasize the suffering-vindication theme rather than the motif of vicarious suffering (Acts 3:13, 26; 4:27, 30; 5:30; 10:39–40; 13:29–30). The impression that this feature may be indicative of Luke’s own theology of the cross is strengthened by the absence of the clearest Markan expression of atonement theology (Luke 22:27; cf. Mark 10:45) and by the textual confusion at the other two most sensitive points in the narrative (Luke 22:19b–20, Acts 20:28). Finally we may note that Luke’s depiction of the substantial and objective nature of Christ’s resurrection appearances (Luke 24:39–43; Acts 1:3), which in part at least may be simply the result of his own perception of the tangible character of spiritual phenomena (e.g., Luke 3:22; Acts 4:31, 8:18–19, 12:9), enables him to emphasize still further the contrast between the epoch of Christ and that of the Spirit and marks off the ascension from the resurrection in a way that is unparalleled elsewhere in the NT.

4. Outside the Circle of Pauline Influence. James almost seems to lack any Christology worth speaking of, Christ being explicitly referred to only twice (1:1; 2:1), though the ambiguous “Lord” of 5:7–8 probably also refers to Jesus. But he does draw directly on the Jesus tradition (e.g., 1:5, 22–23; 4:12; 5:12) and may refer to Jesus as “the righteous one” (5:6) in a fine blend of Jewish wisdom teaching and prophetic fervor against social injustice. This can quite properly be called an implicit christology, since it shows how these emphases of Jesus’ ministry were maintained, without necessarily having to be held all the time within a Markan passion framework (as in all the Gospels).

The two-fold emphasis of the birth narratives also provides Matthew with his principal Christological themes—Jesus as Son of David and messiah (1:1, 17, 20; 2:4), but also Son of God (1:18, 20; 2:15). Evidently within a more Jewish context the assertion of Jesus’ messiahship was still a matter of apologetic importance (hence the redactional insertions at 11:2, 16:20, 23:10, 24:5). Matthew also makes more use of the “Son of David” title than any other NT writer (9:27; 12:23; 15:22; 20:30–31 pars.; 21:9, 15). But “Son of God” is clearly the more important designation. For Matthew not only retains the high points of Mark’s presentation (3:17, 8:29, 17:5, 26:63, 27:54) but takes pains to extend the motif (14:33; 16:16; 27:40, 43; 28:19).

On the one hand, this means that Christ recapitulates Israel’s history to complete God’s purpose for Israel (2:15; 4:3–6 = midrash on Deuteronomy 6–8)—an Israel Christology rather like Paul’s Adam Christology. Hence also the implicit Moses typology (Jesus gives the first of five blocks of teaching on a mountain) and the sustained fulfillment of prophecy theme (1:22–23; 2:15, 17–18, 23; 4:14–16; 8:17; 12:17–21; 21:4; 27:9–10). But even more, this means that Jesus, Son of God, is the divine presence among his people (1:23; 18:20; 28:20). The process whereby “Son of God” gains in Christological significance is already well advanced—as reflected also in the marked increase in Jesus’ reference to God as “Father” (as in 7:21; 10:32–33; 12:50; 16:17; 18:10, 19). Hence, too, the evidently deliberate Matthean redaction whereby Jesus is presented not merely as the eschatological emissary of Wisdom but as Wisdom herself (11:19, 25–30; 23:34–36, 37–39).

The most striking feature of the Christology of the Revelation of John is the relation envisaged between God and the exalted Christ—although the full force of the Christology involved remains unclear since the apocalyptic imagery is open to diverse interpretations. The description of the initial vision of Christ is a fascinating mixture of elements drawn from previous apocalyptic visions (particularly Ezek 1:24, 8:2; Dan 7:13, 10:5–6), and is of a piece with the tradition of Jewish apocalyptic (or merkabah mysticism) in which a glorious angel seems to have the appearance of God (as in Apoc. Abr. 10). The difference is that elsewhere in the tradition the angel forbids the offer of worship, whereas in Revelation, Christ is as much the object of worship as God (5:13, 7:10).

Christ, initially introduced as the Lion of Judah and Root of David, conqueror of death and lord of history (5:5), is referred to thereafter as the Lamb once slain (5:6, 8, 12–13; 6:1; etc.), whose blood enables his followers to conquer and who is the executor of divine wrath (6:16, 7:14, 12:11). More significant is the fact that the Lamb is also said to be “in the middle of the throne” (5:6; 7:17), whereas elsewhere it is God who is described as “he who is seated on the throne” (4:9–10; 5:1, 7, 13; 6:16; 7:10, 15; 19:4; 21:5). The one throne is evidently shared by both God and the Lamb (22:1). So, too, each can equally be called “the Alpha and the Omega” (1:8, 21:6, 22:13). In other words, Christ has not simply been exalted alongside God as a second divine power in heaven, but in the visionary imagery of the seer is somehow merged with God. This makes the promise of salvation as a being given to sit on the same throne and as a being given in marriage to the Lamb all the more profound (3:21; 19:7–8; 21:2, 9–14).

F. The Christology of John

The Fourth Gospel has the most fully developed christology in the NT. The contrast with the Synoptics is at once apparent in the public roll call of titles which climaxes chap. 1 (“Lamb of God,” “Messiah,” “Son of God,” “King of Israel,” “Son of Man”). The style and content of Jesus’ teaching is strikingly different: in the Synoptics, Jesus speaks in epigrams and parables, principally about the kingdom of God/heaven and very little about himself; in John, Jesus speaks in long, often involved discourses, principally about himself and very little about the kingdom. Jesus’ consciousness of having preexisted, as Son with the Father, as Son of Man descended from heaven, as the eternal “I am,” confronts the reader throughout. There is sufficient evidence that John’s presentation is rooted in good tradition (cf., e.g., John 6:20 with Mark 6:50; John 6:51–58 with Mark 14:22–24 = Luke 22:19–20; John 10 with Luke 15:4–6), but the above emphases are so consistent in John and so lacking in the earlier Jesus tradition that they have to be attributed to a developed reflection on that earlier tradition.

The chief objectives of the Fourth Evangelist are clearly marked in the Prologue, which must have a programmatic function since it matches the subsequent emphases so closely, and in 20:31.

1. The Word Incarnate. In the Prologue the line of the earlier Wisdom christology is extended. The concept “Word” is given preference over “Wisdom,” perhaps simply because the masculine concept seemed more appropriate, but probably mainly because “Word” was the more serviceable concept to provide a bridge of communication between Jewish monotheism and Greek religious philosophy (as with Philo). In the line of Jewish Wisdom theology, the Word is not thought of as being other than God, but as God in his self-revelation, God insofar as he may be known by man. The Word was not a redemptive “afterthought” but was “in the beginning” (1:1–2), God’s own power put forth in creation and revelation (1:3–5, 9–10). Jesus Christ is this Word become man, embodying the divine glory (1:14). He alone reveals God (1:18).

Although the concept “Word” disappears after the Prologue, what follows is in effect a massive elaboration of Word/Wisdom christology. In varied ways the message is constantly repeated—Jesus is the one who has finally and definitively revealed God. Nathanael is a “true Israelite” (= “one who sees God”) because he will see the Son of Man as the ladder between heaven and earth (1:47–51). No one has ascended to heaven; only the Son of Man who descended from heaven can bear witness to heavenly things (3:11–13). He who comes from above is above all whose witness is from God (3:31–33). Only he who is from the Father has seen the Father (6:46). The “I am” statements unique to John pick up Wisdom language (shepherd, light, etc.) and in echoing the “I am” of Yahweh (Exod 3:14; Isa 43:10; etc.) make the claim even more emphatically—Jesus is the self-revelation of the covenant God (John 6:35; 8:12, 24, 28, 58; etc.), the definitive manifestation of that divine reality (1:14, 17; 14:6). Isaiah saw Christ because he saw God in his glory, God as manifested to man (Isaiah 6; John 12:41). Hence the charge leveled against the Johannine Jesus by “the Jews”: he made himself equal with God, made himself God (5:18; 10:33). John does not dispute the charge; rather he makes it an article of faith on his own account (1:18; 20:28); only, Jesus as God must not be understood as another, a second God, but as God himself incarnate, God making himself present and known to man so far as that was possible within the confines of human experience.

This also is the function of the dominant category of John’s christology—Son of God. Although the designation “Messiah” is still important (note 1:41 and 4:25), it is clear that he wants the Christ title to be understood in the light of the Son of God title (11:27; 20:31). The reason is also clear from the characteristic Johannine elaboration of the Son language: “Son” expresses well the intimate relation between Jesus and God and the authority of Jesus’ revelation of God. As “Son of God,” Jesus is unique: he is the monogenēs, “one of a kind” (like no other son), (1:14, 18; 3:16, 18); his sonship cannot be shared (he alone is “son”; believers are “children”; contrast Paul). As “the Son,” he is not a different divine being from the Father, but God making himself visible to men: he and the Father are one (10:30); to have seen him is to have seen the Father (14:9). Hence also the repeated note usually taken subsequently as emphasizing the Son’s subordination to the Father, but better understood as highlighting the continuity between Father and Son and the authority of the Son’s witness on the Father’s behalf (e.g., 5:19–23, 26–27; 6:35–40, 57; 10:25, 37–38; 14:25–31; 15:26).

With this as the chief emphasis of John’s christology, the Christian redefinition of Jewish monotheism can be said to be already well under way. Clearly evident, too, are the strains which caused rabbinic Judaism to reject such redefinition as in effect an abandoning of the unity of God. The danger of an overemphasis on Jesus as God on earth is also evident, but John was aware of it and took steps to guard against it.

2. The Son Glorified. Although the Fourth Evangelist has nothing like the Adam christology with which Paul balanced his Wisdom christology, a somewhat different balance is nevertheless provided by important other strands of the gospel. In particular, John takes pains to exclude the impression that Jesus was simply God in human appearance, not really part of the human species. The Word became “flesh” (1:14), that which constitutes the human born (1:13; 3:6). To have eternal life one must believe in Jesus, that is, must accept his fleshliness in all its earthliness (6:53–56). He really died on the cross, as eyewitness testimony confirms (19:34–35). The emphasis is not prominent, but it does come at critical points in the gospel, and John presumably thought the line was clearly enough drawn.

The subject of Jesus’ rejection and death is, in fact, more intensively elaborated, in its own way, than in any other gospel. The theme of the light opposed by the darkness, of the Word rejected by his own, first announced in the Prologue (1:5, 11), becomes a leitmotif of the whole gospel. The light inevitably has a critical or divisive role, since some accept it but many hate it (3:19–21). “Judgment” as a sifting process separating into “for” and “against” is the thread which holds together the central section of the gospel (6–12), with only the inner circle left before Judas, too, goes off into the night (13:30). The mention of “the hour” sounds a steady drumbeat throughout the heralding of the coming passion (2:4; 7:30; 8:20; 12:23, 27; 13:1; 17:1). The soteriological significance of Jesus’ death is still prominent (1:29, 6:51, 12:32, 13:10, 19:34), but more prominent is the christological point that his death forms a theological unity with his resurrection and ascension—a single act of being “lifted up” (3:14, 8:28, 12:32), of ascension (3:13, 6:62, 20:17), and particularly of glorification (7:39; 12:16, 23; 13:31; 17:1). As with Paul, the glory of Christ does not come into focus apart from the cross.

As with Paul, the concept of the Spirit is drawn into close correlation with christology. Despite the powerful Word/Wisdom christology, the Spirit is still depicted as given to Jesus at Jordan, but given to “remain on him” and “without measure” (1:32; 4:34). More to the point, the Spirit is now clearly a gift to be given by Christ (1:33; 4:10, 14; 4:34(?); 7:39; 15:26; 16:7; 19:34); and here, too, the unity of the salvation climax of Jesus’ ministry is underlined, since Jesus “hands over” the Spirit on the cross (19:30) and the (Pentecostal) bestowal of the Spirit for mission is effected on the day of resurrection (20:21–23). Most distinctive of all, the Spirit is described as the “Paraclete” or Counselor, or more precisely, as “the other Paraclete” (14:16). That is to say, the Spirit is Jesus’ successor and takes Jesus’ place, so that the promise of Jesus’ return to dwell in his disciples can be immediately linked to the coming and indwelling of the Paraclete (14:15–26)—one of the most striking features of John’s “realized eschatology.” Significantly, the Paraclete’s primary role is to maintain and complete the revelation of Christ (14:26; 15:26; 16:7, 10), to glorify Christ by taking what is Christ’s and reproclaiming it to his disciples (16:12–15). Yet once again, as with Paul, all this does not mean that John’s christology has absorbed the concept of Spirit without remainder, as it has the concepts of Wisdom and Word (see PARACLETE). For distinct functions are still attributed to both—to the Spirit in worship and to Christ apart from the Spirit: despite his realized eschatology, John retains the promise of a still future parousia (14:3); and despite having already given the Spirit and ascended Christ reappears to Thomas a week later (20:26–29).

3. 1 and 2 John—Crisis over Christology. 1 John was probably written after the gospel and reflects a situation of some crisis in the Johannine congregations which the gospel and its presentation of Christ may have helped bring about. A number of erstwhile members had evidently left (1 John 2:19), and the breaking point seems to have been a matter of christology, since they are described as “antichrists” and accused of failing to confess or acknowledge Christ (2:18, 22; 4:3; 2 John 7). In particular, they claimed that Jesus Christ had not come in the flesh (1 John 4:2–3; 2 John 7), a form of docetism which, conceivably, they may have derived from or defended by means of a lopsided reading of the gospel (cf. 6:1 above). Consequently this second member of the Johannine school draws back somewhat from the bolder synthesis attempted in the gospel. The opening verses clearly recall the prologue to the gospel, but they also recall the older idea of Christ as the content of the word of preaching (cf. 1 John 1:1–3 particularly with Luke 1:2 and Acts 10:36). And 1 John 5:20 probably refers to Jesus as “the true God” (cf. particularly John 1:18). But the balancing emphasis is more clearly and sharply drawn: the word of life had a tangible historicity (1 John 1:1); the confession that “Jesus Christ has come in the flesh” is the key criterion for testing the spirits (4:1–2); any suggestion that the Christ did not really die is emphatically ruled out (5:6–8).

In short, 1 and 2 John provide vivid indications of the hazardous frontiers of reproclamation which christology at the end of the first century was beginning to explore.

G. Conclusions

1. Continuity with Judaism. Throughout the various NT writings there is never any slackening of a central claim: Jesus was a Jew and must be understood within the terms provided by Judaism and its sacred scriptures. Most striking is the way in which a range of diverse categories is focused on Jesus—Messiah and son of man, Lord and son of God, Wisdom and Word, atoning sacrifice and priest, Adam and Spirit, Servant and Lamb, Savior and God. Of course, most of the categories are redefined in one degree or other—son of man becomes Son of Man, son of God becomes only-begotten Son of God, Spirit becomes Spirit of Christ, and so on. But the categories remain essentially Jewish, even when they had wider currency in the Greco-Roman world, and it was evidently understood to be important, even if not stated explicitly, that Jesus should continue to be comprehended in Jewish terms—important that Jesus should be seen in continuity with the purposes of God from creation and in the calling of Israel. Clearly then the first Christians felt that Jesus was so much the decisive and definitive fulfillment of Israel’s hopes that his significance could not be adequately expressed without pulling in all available categories provided by Jesus’ own Jewish faith.

2. Continuity with Jesus’ Own Self-Understanding. This second aspect is not so easy to recognize. The important reason is that so much of NT christology turns on the event of the cross and resurrection. That event so decisively reshaped the categories applicable to Jesus that their occurrence on either side of that event is not strictly comparable. For example, it is only as Christ crucified that the Messiah claim can be incorporated into christology. It is only as priest “in the order of Melchizedek,” “by the power of an indestructible life,” that the category of priest can be taken over. It is only as the man whose obedience in death reverses the disobedience of the first man that the title “Adam” can be given to the exalted Christ. Nevertheless, there are sufficiently clear antecedents within the historical Jesus tradition itself that a continuity can properly be claimed—particularly in Jesus’ consciousness of intimate sonship, his premonition of suffering in a representative capacity, and his hope of vindication following death. Consequently the claim can justly be made that the cross and resurrection was not a distortion of Jesus’ own claims for himself but an appropriate outworking of them. So also the subsequent claims of NT christology can fairly be seen not as a wholly new departure without foundation in Christ’s own ministry, but a fuller insight into the reality of that mission in the light of the cross and resurrection.

3. Unity and Diversity in NT Christology. At the heart of NT christology is the claim that the man Jesus was raised from the dead to a status of supreme exaltation. This is the most constant element throughout all the NT documents. In its more expanded form, it takes on a double aspect—Christ as the culmination of God’s purpose for man (and Israel) in creation and salvation, and Christ as the definitive revelation of God to humankind. The latter comes to increasing prominence in the later writings, explicitly as a doctrine of incarnation in John’s gospel, but not at the cost of removing the earlier emphasis on Jesus’ death and resurrection as a decisive moment not only for Christ’s work but also for his person. Neither aspect can be neglected and neither emphasized at the expense of the other in any christology which claims to be rooted in the NT, but consistently in the NT writings it is the fact and character of Christ’s death and resurrection which provided the criterion and control for christology.

Particular emphases of the individual writers by no means reflect a uniform expression and weighting of this central core. Even the core itself is something of an abstraction, since no two writers express it in precisely the same terms. The differences of the writers themselves and the differences of the situations they addressed inevitably made for a rich diversity of expression of what nevertheless can be called a common faith in Christ. But beyond that core the range of presentations includes a wide-ranging diversity of motif, form, and image—wide enough to include the differences of Mark and Matthew, the absence of significant christological features in James and Acts, and the idiosyncratic elements in Hebrews and Revelation. Evidently the individual writers felt free to reexpress (“reproclaim” is John’s word) the gospel that is Jesus in different ways and with different emphases to speak more pertinently to their own diverse situations. In all cases that included a concern to be true to the insights which had already become established. In some cases that concern dominated largely to the exclusion of all else (particularly the Pastorals). For the most part, however, christology was seen as no mere transfer of set traditions from one church to another, but as a creative response to the exalted Christ and his Spirit, which could sometimes have unpredictable results. But that, too, is part of NT christology.

4. The Foundation for Subsequent Christology. The context-specific and at the same time developing character of so much of NT christology made it inevitable that not all elements within NT christology would be carried forward—particularly the “adoptionist”—like notes in some of the earliest formulations, and idea of Wisdom as created which came in as part of the pre-Christian Jewish Wisdom tradition. Some elements were caught up spasmodically—Paul’s Adam christology is taken up in Irenaeus’ doctrine of “recapitulation,” Luke’s schematization of the epoch of Christ followed by the epoch of the Spirit reappears in corrupt form in Montanism and modern dispensationalism, and the visionary magnificence of the Revelation of John retains its impact in the Byzantine Pantocrator. But the main highway into the future was provided by the Wisdom/Word christologies of Paul and John. That way was by no means smooth. The concept of Christ as God’s self-revelation not only had to skirt around docetism (already in 1–2 John), but also resulted in an outright breach with Judaism over the question mark it seemed to pose to the unity of God (already foreshadowed in John), and it also gave scope to a modalist interpretation later in the second century. In the event, as it happened, the NT writing contained sufficient safeguards to prevent Christianity from abandoning monotheism (Christ as God incarnate), but also sufficient dynamic in the relationships implied between God, the exalted Christ, and the Spirit of Christ to require redefinition of that monotheism in a trinitarian direction. Whether subsequent formulations managed to take sufficient account of all the balancing elements in NT christology, however, remains an open question.

Bibliography

Balz, H. R. 1967. Methodische Probleme der neutestamentlichen Christologie. Neukirchen.

Bauckham, R. 1978. The Sonship of the Historical Jesus in Christology. SJT 31: 245–60.

———. 1980–81. The Worship of Jesus in Apocalyptic Christianity. NTS 27: 322–41.

Berger, K. 1970–71. Zum traditionsgeschichtlichen Hintergrund christologischer Hoheitstitel. NTS 17: 391–425.

Berkey, R. F., and Edwards, S. A. 1982. Christological Perspectives. New York.

Black, M. 1971–72. The Christological Use of the Old Testament in the New Testament. NTS 18: 1–14.

Boers, H. 1972. Where Christology Is Real: A Survey of Recent Research on New Testament Christology. Int 26: 300–27.

Borsch, F. H. 1967. The Son of Man in Myth and History. London.

Boslooper, T. 1962. The Virgin Birth. London.

Bousset, W. 1921. Kyrios Christos, Nashville. 2d ed. 1970.

Braun, H. 1968. The Meaning of New Testament Christology. JTC 5: 89–127.

Brown, R. E. 1968. Jesus: God and Man. London.

———. 1977. The Birth of the Messiah. Garden City, NY.

———. 1979. The Community of the Beloved Disciple. London.

Bühner, J. A. 1977. Der Gesandte und sein Weg im 4. Evangelium. Tübingen.

Bultmann, R. 1969. The Christology of the New Testament. Pp. 262–85 in Faith and Understanding. London.

Burger, C. 1970. Jesus als Davidsohn. Göttingen.

Caird, G. B. 1968. The Development of the Doctrine of Christ in the New Testament. Pp. 66–81 in Christ for Us Today, ed. N. Pittenger. London.

Casey, M. 1982. Chronology and the Development of Pauline Christology. Paul and Paulinism, ed. M. D. Hooker & S. G. Wilson. London.

Casey, P. M. 1980. The Son of Man. London.

Cerfaux, L. 1959. Christ in the Theology of St. Paul. Freiburg.

Christ, F. 1970. Jesus Sophia. Zurich.

Conzelmann, H. 1961. The Theology of Saint Luke. London.

Craddock, F. B. 1968. The Pre-existence of Christ in the New Testament. Nashville.

Cullmann, O. 1979. The Christology of the New Testament. London.

Deichgraeber, R. 1967. Gotteshymnus und Christushymnus in der fruehen Christenheit. Göttingen.

Dunn, J. D. G. 1975. Jesus and the Spirit. London.

———. 1977. Unity and Diversity in the New Testament. London.

———. 1980. Christology in the Making. London.

———. 1983. Let John Be John. Pp. 309–39 in Das Evangelium und die Evangelien, ed. P. Stuhlmacher. Tübingen.

Dupont, J., ed. 1975. Jesus aux origines de la christologie. BETL 40. Louvain.

Ernst, J. 1972. Anfänge der Christologie. SBS 57. Stuttgart.

Feuillet, A. 1966. Le Christ Sagesse de Dieu d’apres les Epitres Pauliniennes. EBib. Paris.

Foakes-Jackson, F. J., and Lake, K. 1920. The Beginnings of Christianity Part I: The Acts of the Apostles, vol. 1. London.

Franklin, E. 1975. Christ the Lord: A Study in the Purpose and Theology of Luke. London.

Fuller, R. H. 1965. The Foundations of New Testament Christology. London.

Fuller, R. H., and Perkins, P. 1983. Who Is This Christ? Philadelphia.

Gnilka, J. 1970. Jesus Christus nach frühen Zeugnis des Glaubens. Munich.

Hahn, F. 1969. The Titles of Jesus in Christology. London.

Hamerton-Kelley, R. G. 1973. Pre-existence, Wisdom and the Son of Man. SNTSMS: Cambridge.

Hanson, A. T. 1965. Jesus Christ in the Old Testament. London.

———. 1982. The Image of the Invisible God. London.

Harvey, A. E. 1981. God Incarnate: Story and Belief. London.

Hay, D. M. 1973. Glory at the Right Hand: Psalm 110 in Early Christianity. SBLMS 18. Nashville.

Hengel, M. 1976. The Son of God. London.

———. 1983. Between Jesus and Paul. London.

Hermann, I. 1961. Kyrios und Pneuma: Studien zur Christologie der paulinischen Hauptbriefe. Muenchen: Koesel.

Holtz, T. 1962. Die Christologie der Apokalypse des Johannes. Berlin.

Hooker, M. D. 1977–78. Interchange and Atonement. BJRL 60: 462–80.

Hurtado, L. W. 1979. New Testament Christology: A Critique of Bousset’s Influence. TS 40: 306–17.

———. 1981. The Study of New Testament Christology: Notes for the Agenda. SBLSP 185–97.

Jeremias, J. 1967. The Prayers of Jesus. London.

———. 1988. Christology in Context. Philadelphia.

Jewett, R., ed. 1984. Christology and Exegesis: New Approaches. Semeia 30.

Jonge de, M. 1977. Jesus: Stranger from Heaven. Missoula.

Jüngel, E. 1967. Paulus und Jesus. 3d ed. Tübingen.

Käsemann, E. 1968. The Testament of Jesus. London.

Kazmierski, C. R. 1979. Jesus, the Son of God. Würzburg.

Kehl, N. 1967. Der Christushymnus im Kolosserbrief. Stuttgart.

Kim, S. 1981. The Origin of Paul’s Gospel. WUNT 2/4. Tübingen.

———. 1983. The “Son of Man” as the Son of God. WUNT 30. Tübingen.

Kinsbury, J. D. 1975. Matthew: Structure, Christology, Kingdom. Philadelphia.

———. 1983. The Christology of Mark’s Gospel. Philadelphia.

Knox, J. 1967. The Humanity and Divinity of Christ. Cambridge.

Krämer, W. 1966. Christ, Lord, Son of God. London.

Lampe, G. W. H. 1977. God as Spirit. Oxford.

Lindars, B. 1983. Jesus Son of Man. London.

Loader, W. R. G. 1981. Sohn und Hoherpriester. WMANT 53. Neukirchen.

Lohfink, G. 1971. Die Himmelfahrt Jesu. Munich.

Longenecker, R. N. 1970. The Christology of Early Jewish Christianity. London.

Marshall, I. H. 1968. The Origins of New Testament Christology. London.

Martin, R. P. 1983. Carmen Christi: Philippians 2:5–11 in Recent Interpretation and in the Setting of Early Christian Worship. SNTSMS. 2d ed. Grand Rapids.

Marxsen, W. 1960. The Beginnings of Christology. Philadelphia.

Meeks, W. A. 1967. The Prophet-King: Moses Traditions and the Johannine Christology. NovTSup 14. Leiden.

Meeks, W. A. 1972. The Man from Heaven in Johannine Sectarianism. JBL 91: 44–72.

Moule, C. F. D. 1967. The Phenomenon of the New Testament. London.

———. 1977. The Origin of Christology. Cambridge.

Müller, U. B. 1975. Die Geschichte der Christologie in der johanneischen Gemeinde. SBS 77. Stuttgart.

Neufeld, V. H. 1963. The Earliest Christian Confessions. Leiden.

Pannenberg, W. 1968. Jesus—God and Man. London.

Perrin, N. 1974. A Modern Pilgrimage in New Testament Christology. Philadelphia.

Polag, A. 1977. Die Christologie der Logienquelle. Neukirchen.

Pollard, T. E. 1970. Johannine Christology and the Early Church. SNTSMS. Cambridge.

———. 1982. Fullness of Humanity: Christ’s Humanness and Ours. Sheffield.

Rahner, K., and Thüsing, W. 1980. A New Christology. London.

Rawlinson, A. E. J. 1926. The New Testament Doctrine of the Christ. London.

Robinson, J. A. T. 1956. The Most Primitive Christology of All? JTS 7: 177–89.

———. 1973. The Human Face of God. London.

Robinson, J. M., and Koester, H. 1971. Trajectories through Early Christianity. Philadelphia.

Rowland, C. 1980. The Vision of the Risen Christ in Rev 1, 13ff. JTS 31: 1–11.

Sanders, J. T. 1971. The New Testament Christological Hymns. SNTSMS. Cambridge.

Schillebeeckx, E. 1979. Jesus: An Experiment in Christology. London.

———. 1980. Christ: The Christian Experience in the Modern World. London.

Schnackenburg, R. 1970. Christologie des Neuen Testaments. Mysterium Salutis 3:1. Einsiedeln, 227–388.

———. 1983. Paulinische und johanneische Christologie. Pp. 221–37 in Die Mitte des Neuen Testaments, ed. U. Luz and H. Weder. Göttingen.

Schweizer, E. 1960. Erniedrigung und Erhoehung bei Jesus und seinen Nachfolgern. 2d ed. Zurich.

———. 1971. Jesus. London.

———. 1972. Neues Testament und Christologie im Werden. Göttingen.

Scroggs, R. 1966. The Last Adam: A Study in Pauline Anthropology. Oxford.

Stanton, G. N. 1974. Jesus of Nazareth in New Testament Preaching. SNTSMS. Cambridge.

Stuhlmacher, P. 1977. Zur Paulinische Christologie. ZTK 74: 449–63.

Taylor, V. 1958. The Person of Christ in New Testament Teaching. London.

Thüsing, W. 1965. Per Chrisum in Deum. Münster.

———. 1970. Erhöhungsvorstellung und Parusieerwartung in der ältesten nachösterlichen Christologie. SBS 42. Stuttgart.

Tiede, D. L. 1980. Prophecy and History in Luke-Acts. Philadelphia.

Vermes, G. 1973. Jesus the Jew. London.

Vielhauer, P. 1965. Aufsätze zum Neuen Testament. Munich.

Wainwright, A. W. 1962. The Trinity in the New Testament. London.

Wengst, K. 1972. Christologische Formeln und Lieder des Urchristentums. Gütersloh.

Source: Freedman, D. N. (ed.), The Anchor Bible Dictionary Vol. 1 (New York: Doubleday, 1992), pp. 979-991.

---

Eph. Ignatius, Letter to the Ephesians

Rom. Ignatius, Letter to the Romans

4QFlor Numbered caves of Qumran, yielding written material; followed by abbreviation of biblical or apocryphal book

par. paragraph; (gospel) parallel

pars. paragraphs; (gospel) parallels

Joseph. Josephus

Ant Josephus, Jewish Antiquities (= Antiquitates Judaicae)

etc. et cetera (and so forth)

Q Qere; “Q”-source; Qumran texts (e.g., 4QTestim)

a.d. anno domini (year)

OT Old Testament

T. Levi Testament of Levi

Sir Ecclesiasticus or Wisdom of Jesus Ben-Sira

Sacr Philo, De sacrificiis Abelis et Caini

SJT Scottish Journal of Theology, Edinburgh

NTS New Testament Studies, Cambridge, MA

Int Interpretation, Richmond, VA

2d second

ed. editor(s); edition; edited by

JTC Journal for Theology and the Church

Pp. pages; past

BETL Bibliotheca ephemeridum theologicarum lovaniensium

SBS Stuttgarter Bibelstudien

vol. volume

SNTSMS Society for New Testament Studies Monograph Series

SBLMS Society of Biblical Literature Monograph Series

BJRL Bulletin of the John Rylands University Library of Manchester

TS Theological Studies, Washington, DC

SBLSP Society of Biblical Literature Seminar Papers

Semeia Semeia, Chico, CA

3d third

WUNT Wissenschaftliche Untersuchungen zum Neuen Testament

WMANT Wissenschaftliche Monographien zum Alten und Neuen Testament

NovTSup Novum Testamentum Supplements

JBL Journal of Biblical Literature

JTS Journal of Theological Studies, Oxford

ff. following pages

ZTK Zeitschrift für Theologie und Kirche