prescence

Prof Michel Gourgues OP: « Remember Jesus Christ » (2 Tm 2: 8,11-13): From a Baptismal Instruction to an Encouragement Addressed to Missionaries

Prof Morna Hooker: On Becoming the Righteousness of God: Conformity to Christ in 2 Corinthians

Prof Michel Gourgues OP: THE SUPERIMPOSITION OF SYMBOLIC TIME AND REAL TIME IN THE GOSPEL OF JOHN - The Symbolism of Light as Time Marker

***************************************************************************************************************************************************************

Many years ago, as I cycled from my home in Oxford into work, I found myself confronted by a poster which announced in bold letters: 'Jesus said: “I am the Christ”'. How I was supposed to respond to this message I do not know, but in fact I nearly fell off my bicycle with surprise. My first reaction was to remonstrate with what the poster said, as though it were a statement in an undergraduate essay: 'But he didn't!' I began to explain, 'It’s clear from the Gospels that Jesus did not go round Galilee making such open claims about himself.' But then I found myself wondering: 'What are the inhabitants of North Oxford expected to understand by this statement? What would the word “Christ” mean to them – unless, of course, they were already Christians?' Outside the context of Jewish and Christian faith, the word 'Christ' has no significance. The message might as well have been written in Chinese. So I composed myself, abandoned my dialogue with the poster, and continued to pedal my way into Oxford .

Whoever put up that poster was clearly out of touch with the world outside the church; it had not occurred to them that it would convey virtually nothing to the very people whom they were targeting. And as every preacher is taught, it is essential to begin where your congregation is, and to speak in language and idioms that they will comprehend. If you are to communicate effectively, you need to know your audience.

We tend to think of Paul as an apostle, or a theologian, but rarely stop to think that the reason why most of his letters were written was that he was also a pastor. As though to encourage us in neglecting this aspect of his work, the term 'Pastoral Epistles' is universally used of three letters which many of us consider to be post-Pauline! But were not all Paul's genuine letters 'pastoral' in their intent? Apart from the epistle to the Romans, of which more anon, his letters are addressed to churches which he founded,[1] and are written out of pastoral concern for his addressees. The Galatians were in danger of succumbing to what Paul regarded as a false gospel; the Thessalonians were wavering in their faith because some of their number had died; the Corinthian church was in disarray; the Philippians were apparently doing well, but they were concerned about Paul himself, who was in prison facing trial, so Paul writes to reassure them.

Much scholarly analysis of his letters has created an image of the Paul as an erudite theologian writing pamphlets that would have been incomprehensible to his readers. As we struggle with his exegesis of scripture, we find ourselves wondering: what would his Gentile converts have made of this? Would they have understood his arguments?[2] Did Paul make the mistake that was made centuries later by those who displayed that Oxford poster, the mistake of assuming knowledge that those whom he addressed did not possess? No-one can deny that Paul was a profound thinker – one of the most formative, and many of us would say the most formative, theologian that the Church has ever had. His letters are indeed written by a scholar. But my contention this evening is that they were also written by a pastor; they were practical letters, intended to deal with particular problems. In other words, Paul was a practical theologian, who was in touch with his congregations.

Some of the problems Paul had to sort out were clearly matters of doctrine, but he also had to deal with moral problems. It was all very well for Paul to rush through a city, preaching the gospel, making conversions, and then moving on – but what were these young Christians meant to do next? What did their new faith signify? How should they behave? Was there, indeed, any connection between belief and behaviour? Or was moral conduct a matter of indifference to the God in whom they now trusted? But whether Paul was dealing with problems of doctrine or of behaviour, his method was to go back to first principles; in other words, he started from the gospel. And when he wanted to clinch an argument, he used an appropriate credal summary. This evening, I want to examine some of these credal summaries, and consider how they relate to their context.

Now one of the interesting things about these credal summaries is their great variety: Paul seems to use different language every time, and he does so, I suggest, not because he wants to ring the changes, but because he wants to express the basic core of the gospel in such a way as to demonstrate its relevance to the particular problem facing his readers.

We begin with the opening verses of Romans. In one way, Romans would seem to be a very odd place to begin if we are thinking of Paul's pastoral concerns, since this is the only one of the 'core' Pauline letters to have been written to a congregation that Paul had not himself founded: in what sense, then, could he be writing to them as their pastor? His purpose in writing the letter is still debated, but clearly he wishes to ensure that the Roman congregation is aware of the gospel which he preaches; his pastoral concern arises not out of a situation that already exists in Rome , but the situation that he himself may cause by travelling there. In other words, he wishes to ensure that Christians in Rome recognize the validity of his work and that relationships between them are smooth.

But his pastoral concern surely extends to the Roman congregation itself: he is anxious that they should understand what he terms 'the depth of the riches and wisdom and knowledge of God' – the fact that the gospel is addressed to Jews and Gentiles alike. Not surprisingly, then, he introduces himself in his opening words by establishing his authority to write to them: he is a servant – or slave – of Christ, called to be an apostle, set apart for the gospel. Not surprisingly, too, he then summarizes 'his' gospel. And not surprisingly he hastens to point out that he is writing to the Romans because his commission is 'to bring about the obedience of faith among all the Gentiles ... including yourselves' (1:5-6).

The gospel with which he has been entrusted, Paul tells his readers, concerns God's Son, who was descended from David according to the flesh. Reference to Jesus' Davidic descent is surprisingly rare in Paul, but it is important for his argument in Romans, for it provides evidence to support his claim that Jesus is the Christ. Jesus the Christ was declared Son of God with power according to the spirit of holiness by resurrection from the dead. Here are more themes that occur later in the letter: in several places Paul stresses that Jesus was the Son of God (and so obedient to the will of God); the theme of God's power is picked up as early as 1:17, where we are told that the gospel is the power of God, leading to salvation to all who trust in him, while Paul's strange use of the plural in the phrase 'resurrection from the dead' – lit. the resurrection of corpses – hints at what we're told later – that his resurrection brings new life to believers.

The odd phrases 'according to the flesh' and 'according to the spirit' are both picked up later; and as for that strange expansion 'the spirit of holiness', that might well prepare us for what Paul is going to spell out later in terms of the necessity for believers to be sanctified and to live holy lives, in the power of the Spirit. Finally, we have the familiar words of the confession of faith, 'Jesus Christ our Lord'. And it is through Jesus Christ our Lord, Paul declares, that he has received grace and apostleship to bring about the obedience of faith among all the Gentiles, including the Romans themselves.

This opening creedal summary, then, neatly sums up the gospel in language appropriate to the argument of the letter, establishes Paul's own authority to write to the congregation in Rome , and underlines the significant emphasis of his understanding of the Gospel – that it is for Gentiles as well as for Jews. It seems clear that Paul has chosen his language very deliberately.

And that, of course, is precisely what we would expect, since it was usual in Paul's time for the opening words of a letter to sum up the theme that is going to be discussed later.[3] In other words, an introduction is not simply a way of getting started, but a kind of contents page, indicating what is going to be discussed. Romans is unusual because Paul is about to spell out what the gospel is: to explain why it was necessary for God to act in Christ, to indicate the significance of Christ's death and resurrection, and to show the place of Jews and Gentiles in God's plan.

In most of his letters, Paul's purpose is much more focused, so the opening words home in on one particular aspect of the gospel that he feels needs to be stressed. In 1 Thess. 1:10, for example, after thanking God for the Thessalonians' response to the gospel, he reminds them of the assurance they had been given that Christ would save believers from the coming wrath. In 1 Corinthians (1:4-9), he thanks God for the spiritual gifts with which the Corinthians have been blessed – gifts of speech and knowledge, of which (as subsequent chapters demonstrate) the Corinthians are clearly proud – so reminding them that these things are gifts, and so no cause for pride, and expresses his confidence that God will make them blameless on the last day, so reminding them that their calling to be 'saints', or 'holy ones' (1:2) demands appropriate moral behaviour; these themes will occupy much of the letter; and in 2 Corinthians, Paul's thanksgiving is for the consolation that has come to him through suffering, which he understands to be a sharing in the sufferings of Christ, and thus a means of bringing comfort to the Corinthians: this is to be the theme of the following chapters. In all these letters, Paul indicates his pastoral concerns and the topics he plans to discuss in the opening thanksgiving.

There is, of course, one exception to this pattern, and that is Galatians, which has no opening thanksgiving – presumably because Paul is so distraught in writing to the congregations in Galatia that he is unable to think of anything in their situation for which to thank God! Nevertheless, he is still able to praise God, and the longer than usual opening greeting does end in a brief doxology (1:5). Moreover, the greeting itself contains an indication of the theme of the letter – which, as we might expect, is a brief summary of the gospel, the gospel that Paul fears the Galatians are abandoning.[4]

He begins, as in Romans, by reminding his readers that he is an apostle – a necessary reminder if his authority is being challenged. Moreover, the opening verse establishes not only his own authority but reminds the Galatians of the gospel, since his commission has come 'through Jesus Christ and God the Father, who raised him from the dead' (1:1). Paul then sends grace and peace to the churches of Galatia 'from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ, who gave himself for our sins to set us free from the present age'. As we read the rest of the letter we realize that the problem with the Galatian Christians is that they have failed to appreciate the fact that they have been set free from the present age – the age in which the law operated – and failed to understand that the death and resurrection of Christ have dealt with their sins. Once again, Paul seems to have chosen his vocabulary deliberately.

In various letters, then, we find references in the opening thanksgivings to particular aspects of the gospel that correspond to the pastoral needs of the readers, while in the opening verses of Galatians and Romans, we have summaries of the gospel itself – summaries that are worded in language that is relevant to the particular ways in which Paul is going to spell out that gospel in what follows. What I find interesting, however, is that in credal summaries elsewhere, Paul also seems to choose language that is appropriate to the theme. His answer to any theological problem is to state the gospel, and to state it in a way that makes its relevance obvious. As a pastor, Paul is sensitive to the need to relate the gospel to the situation.

Take, for example, 1 Thess. 4:14, where the particular pastoral problem has been caused by the death of some believers; it would seem that expectation of an imminent Parousia had led to a conviction that Christians would not die before the Lord returned. Paul attempts to persuade his readers that those who have died have not been lost. 'Since we believe that Jesus died and rose again,' he writes, 'even so, God will bring with him those who have died.' In other words, the gospel of Jesus' death and resurrection means life for those who have died. How can the Thessalonians be confident that this is so? In the next chapter, he spells out the answer. 'Our Lord Jesus Christ died for us,' he writes, 'so that, whether we are awake or asleep – i.e. dead or alive – we may live with him' (5:11). There is a great deal of theology packed into that statement, but we see immediately the clear relationship between creed and conviction: Jesus died and rose: therefore we live with him.

Now you may well tell me that 'Jesus died and rose' is a very basic form of the gospel – and so it is. Indeed, in 5:11, Paul says only 'Our Lord Jesus Christ died for us', and there is no reference to the resurrection! But the resurrection is clearly essential to the argument, since believers are to 'live with him'. And of course, in the previous chapter, he appealed to the fact that 'we believe that Jesus died and rose again'. Moreover, in the opening thanksgiving he singled out the resurrection of Christ as the basis of his confident hope for future salvation, reminding the Thessalonians that when they accepted the gospel, they trusted that Jesus, whom God had raised from the dead, would save them from the coming wrath (1:10).

Now they are worried about the death of some of their congregation, but they have no need to be; they need simply to recall the gospel, and realize what it implies. 'God has not destined us for wrath, but for salvation through our Lord Jesus Christ, who died for us, so that whether we are awake or asleep we may live with him' (5:9-10). If God raised Jesus from the dead, then those who believe in him will share his risen life. This example demonstrates very clearly the way in which Paul appealed to the gospel when reassuring his readers. Moreover, he appeals to it in language which shows the gospel's relevance to the particular situation.

implies also dying with him. That idea is not stressed in Thessalonians, but it does come to the fore in another of Paul's early letters, Galatians, where Paul wishes to stress what Christ's death has achieved. If 'Christ gave himself for our sins to set us free from the present evil age' (1:4), what does this mean for believers? Someone has been trying to persuade the Galatian Christians that they need to obey the Law; for Paul, that would be to abandon the freedom given them by Christ, and to return to living in the present evil age. In Gal. 2:19–21, Paul expresses what Christ's death and resurrection mean in very personal terms. He describes how he himself has 'died to law, in order that [he] might live to God'. How has this death taken place? It was, he says, by being 'crucified with Christ', so that it is now Christ who lives in Paul. The life Paul now lives is lived by trusting in the Son of God, who loved him and gave himself for him. His language echoes that introductory summary of the gospel: this is what the fact that 'Christ gave himself for our sins to set us free from the present evil age' means for Paul: dying to the law and living to God.

Once again, therefore, as in 1 Thessalonians, Paul appeals to the gospel, but the summary he gives at the end of chapter 2 is a very short one: simply 'the Son of God loved me and gave himself for me', and – as in 1 Thess. 5:10 – Christ's resurrection is implied, not spelt out. Indeed, if we reverse the order of the sentences in Gal. 2:19-20, we see the close parallel with 1 Thess. 5:10; there we read:

The difference between the two passages is, of course, that twice here Paul emphasizes that in order to live to God – or to allow Christ to live in him – the Christian must die with Christ: 'I have died to the law', he says, and 'I have been crucified with Christ'. Galatians 2 fills out what is said in 1 Thess. 5:10, reminding us that Christ's death on behalf of others has to be appropriated: it is those who share his death to life in the old age who will share his resurrection life. 'Christ died for us' does not mean that we escape death, but that he dies as our representative – the representative of humanity – and so dies to what Paul describes as life lived 'according to the flesh'. Those who in turn share his death to this way of living will also share his resurrection.

Why the differences between the two summaries? Clearly it is because the pastoral problem Paul is dealing with in Galatians is a very different one from the one that confronts him in the Thessalonian community. The Galatians need to comprehend the fact that Christ's death frees them from the present age – and so releases them from the necessity to live under the law; the law was intended to deal with sin, but Christ gave himself up for our sins, and has released us once and for all from the power of sin. If the Galatians are to be set free from the present age and share Christ's resurrection life, they must first die with him.

Similar ideas reappear in another brief summary of the gospel in 2 Cor. 5:14–15, where Paul writes 'One has died for all'. At first that sounds like substitution, Christ dying instead of all, but he goes on to explain that what he means is that Christ died as our representative. The reason that he feels it necessary to spell out the significance of Christ's 'death for all' is, I suggest, precisely because the Corinthians are interpreting Christ's death as a crude exchange: he dies, we live, he suffers, we do not. No, insists Paul,

Because the situation is different, however, the conclusion that is drawn is also different.

In 1 Thessalonians, Paul did not spell out either what Christ's death 'for us' might mean, or what our living 'for him' might involve, since the problem he was dealing with was simply the Thessalonians' fear that those Christians who had died would not share future salvation. He needed only to stress that all Christians would live with Christ. In writing to the Corinthians, he is concerned to stress that – paradoxically – Christian life involves conformity to Christ's death. This is an idea that the Corinthians have clearly failed to grasp, for they are scandalized by Paul's own understanding of ministry as a sharing in the sufferings of Christ, and reluctant to see the implications for their own manner of life. In the chapters preceding this summary of the gospel, Paul has been discussing his ministry, and his call to preach the gospel. Then, in 5:14, Paul appeals to the gospel that constrains him to preach:

'The love of Christ constrains us, because we are convinced that one has died for all; therefore all have died. And he died for all, so that those who live might live no longer for themselves, but for him who died and was raised for them.'

For Paul, living for the one who died and was raised for him meant that he was compelled to preach this gospel, and to embody it in his manner of life.

If Christ died 'for all', Paul reminds the Corinthians, this means that Christians, too, have also died – not, of course, a physical death, but a spiritual one, to sin. The consequence is life – described here, not, as in 1 Thessalonians, as life with Christ, but – as in Gal. 2:20 – life that is centred on him, instead of on themselves. The wording reflects the particular problems in Corinth . It is hardly surprising that Paul goes on, in 2 Cor. 5:17, to explain that when someone is 'in Christ', there is in effect 'a new creation'. Christ's death and resurrection bring an end to one way of living and introduce something quite new. The old world has gone, and the new world has arrived.

These three short summaries all emphasize the fact that Christ died on behalf of others: he 'died for us' (1 Thessalonians), he 'died for me' (Galatians), he 'died for all' (2 Corinthians). In three different ways, Paul stresses the fact that Christ acts on our behalf and as our representative, in order that we might share his risen life: and in three different ways, he explains what that new life means. The core message is the same, the wording different, in order to deal with the particular pastoral problem.

A longer summary of the gospel is used in 1 Cor. 15:3ff. This time the pastoral problem that confronts Paul consists of the doubts expressed by some members of the Corinthian congregation concerning the future resurrection of the dead. Not surprisingly, Paul spells out not only the fact that Christ died for our sins, but that he was raised on the third day. Both his death and his resurrection, he insists, were 'in accordance with scripture', though he does not bother to quote the scriptures he has in mind. But there are two unusual elements in this credal summary. First, we are told that Christ was buried; is the burial included simply to confirm the reality of Christ's death? Or is it perhaps because Paul is going to explain our future resurrection by using the analogy of seeds that are sown in the earth? Our present bodies, he says, are made of dust, and we are mortal and perishable. If Christians share Christ's resurrection, it is because he shared our death: he, too, was 'sown in dishonour, raised in glory' (v. 43). Maybe, then, he included the reference to Christ’s burial because he is anxious to allay the Corinthians’ doubts about their own resurrection.

Secondly, Paul backs up the statement that Christ was raised from the dead by giving a list of witnesses to the resurrection, in which his own name figures last. In what follows, Paul's argument that Christians are to be raised depends wholly on the fact that Christ has been raised: deny that, and there is no basis for belief in our future resurrection; affirm it, and the resurrection of believers follows. Belief in Christ's resurrection and ours belong together (v.13). Since the Corinthians' doubts about their own resurrection are the hub of the problem, it is not surprising if Paul has on this occasion added the list of witnesses to Christ's resurrection appearances to the credal summary.

But why, we may wonder, does he say that 'Christ died for our sins' rather than simply that he died 'for us'? Is this significant? Or was the phrase already part of an accepted formula? That is certainly possible: the link with sins is hardly surprising. Jewish tradition saw death as the punishment for sin. Not only were criminals put to death, but the fact that all living creatures are condemned to die was explained as the result of Adam's sin. According to the story in Genesis 3, Adam and Eve were expelled from the Garden of Eden lest they take and eat the fruit of the tree of life (Gen. 3:22). Death was understood to be the universal punishment for human sin, but it was universal, not simply as the result of Adam's action, but because his descendants shared his sin.[5]

When we read on through 1 Corinthians 15, however, we realize that Paul is going to pick up the reference to sins. If Christ has not been raised, he insists, then the Corinthians' faith is futile, and they are still in their sins (v. 17). This statement leads into a discussion of the contrast between Adam and Christ: death came to men and women through Adam, and life has come through Christ (vv. 20-22, 35-57). Paul needed the particular wording of the formula that he uses in vv. 3ff., therefore, in order to draw out the implications of the gospel for the resurrection hope.Other chapters in the epistle indicate how necessary it was for the Corinthians to make the break with their past, sinful, life.

A summary of the gospel in Rom. 4:25 also makes the link between Christ's death and human sin.

It is difficult to know how to translate the final word, dikai/wsiv, but the root relates to the noun ‘righteousness’. Perhaps we should translate it by ‘acquittal’. The wording of this summary is often dismissed as a rhetorical flourish. I suggest that it is in fact carefully chosen, in order to sum up Paul's argument in Romans. In dying, Christ dealt with sin, and in being raised, he becomes the source of righteousness – right standing – before God. There, in a nutshell, we have Paul’s understanding of atonement.

In many of these summaries, Paul may be using traditional language. Elsewhere, his choice of words is unusual. In Gal. 3:13, for example, we are told that 'Christ was made a curse'. Now we can hardly call this a 'mini-creed', but it is certainly a reminder of the gospel – and a very powerful one. What Paul did when he preached the gospel to the Galatians was, he says, to 'placard' Christ crucified before their eyes (Gal. 3:1); and now, in writing to them, he does so again. ‘Remember the gospel!’ he pleads – the gospel of Christ crucified! What did his death do for you? Paradoxically, it was the means of bringing you blessing, and making you children of Abraham! The Galatians are in danger of turning their backs on the gospel, but it is precisely the scandal of the cross that is the source of the blessing they seek.

In the next chapter, Paul gives us a very different summary of the gospel; this one is notable for concentrating on what we would term the 'incarnation', with only a hint at Christ's death and resurrection. God sent his Son, born of a woman, born under the Law, so that he might redeem those under the Law (there's the reference to his death), and so that we might be made sons of God. God's Son became man, in order to make men and women sons; he was born under the bondage of the law, in order to set free those who were enslaved. The language is relevant to Paul's argument in this section, which is concerned to show how all who believe in Christ are children of God by being in Christ, and have been freed from any obligation to the law. Even what seems to us to be 'sexist' language is deliberately chosen: in becoming sons of God, those with no rights (Gentiles, slaves, women, Gal. 3:28) share in what Christ is, and enjoy the privileges of sonship.

It's hardly surprising, I suppose, that when Paul wants to correct a theological misunderstanding, he goes back to the gospel, and stresses the connection by expressing it in a particular way. What is perhaps more interesting is that he does exactly the same thing when he is instructing his readers about how they should behave. But since in Jewish tradition ethics are based on theology, we should not be surprised. In Paul's understanding, the Christian life is shaped by the gospel.

1 Corinthians is a good place to begin this investigation, since the Corinthian church was clearly beset by many moral problems, some of them caused by sexual immorality. What should they do about a notorious sinner in their midst? They should remove him from the community, says Paul, in the way that one removes leaven from the house, lest it contaminate the new dough (5:7). Note how Paul assumes familiarity with Jewish customs, even to the extent of moving swiftly from the feast of unleavened bread to Passover, which was celebrated immediately after, for his instruction depends on the fact that 'Christ our passover lamb has been sacrificed for us'. This is hardly what we would have expected! Would his readers have seen the point? But of course the image of the passover lamb picks up what Paul wrote earlier, in 1:30, about Christ being for us righteousness and sanctification and redemption. Just as Israel was saved from slavery at the Exodus, when the passover lamb was sacrificed, and was called to be God's holy people, so now those for whom Christ, our passover lamb, has been sacrificed, have been freed from sin, and have been washed, sanctified, and made righteous in him (6:11). Once again, Paul deals with a pastoral problem – in this case an ethical one – by appealing to the gospel, and once again his summary of the gospel is framed in language appropriate to the problem.

Some problems facing the Corinthian congregation were more complicated – notably the question as to whether or not Christians should eat meat that had been sacrificed to idols. Some of the Corinthians had argued that there was nothing wrong with it, since idols did not exist. Paul apparently agreed with them. We do indeed know that 'there is one God, the Father,' he says, 'and one Lord, Jesus Christ'. This might seem to clinch the argument, but then Paul warns the Corinthians against relying on what they know, and suggests that concern for others may be more important than knowledge. And once again he reminds them of the gospel. If they lead others, weaker than themselves, into sin, then by their knowledge they are destroying those for whom Christ died.

In a discussion about what these 'clever' Corinthians knew, this stark reminder of what the gospel was about must have taken his readers aback. Interestingly, Paul seems to oppose two summaries of faith in this argument. There is one God and one Lord – yes indeed! And since the so-called 'gods and lords' are nothing, the Corinthians are right, and they can eat the meat with impunity – provided that they do not persuade their fellow-Christians to do what they believe to be wrong, and so destroy them, for that is to sin against Christ, who died for them. At the end of the day, love for others is more important than knowledge – a principle that Paul spells out in 1 Corinthians 13, where he declares that possessing knowledge is of no value, if one does not have love.

This discussion in 1 Corinthians is the more fascinating, because it shows how Paul went about advising his congregation to deal with a problem when the proper course of action was by no means clear. If the strong Corinthian Christian eats meat, that is surely a demonstration of his faith; true – but does that action accord with the principle of self-sacrificing love seen in the death of Christ? Christ loved us and gave himself up for us; it is clear, then, that it is love that should shape the lives of Christians. This is the principle that Paul brings to bear when answering moral problems.

Problems of immorality and inappropriate behaviour within the Christian community are discussed again, in 2 Cor. 6:14-18. Righteousness and lawlessness do not go together, says Paul. This passage is often described as an 'erratic boulder', which interrupts the train of thought. It has even been suggested that it is a scrap belonging to another letter, which has mysteriously made its way into 2 Corinthians. If we turn back to chapter 5, however, I think we will see why it is placed here. In 5:21, we find Paul reminding the Corinthians how they have 'become righteousness'. It is, of course, because they are 'in Christ'. 'If anyone is in Christ,' he writes in 5:16, 'there is a new creation. The old has passed away, and everything is new'. And then, in 5:21, 'For our sake God made the one who knew no sin to be sin, so that we might become the righteousness of God in him.' No wonder he goes on to say, in effect, 'be what you are'.

But notice the way in which he chooses to remind the Corinthians of the gospel. Once again, he uses unusual language: Christ was identified with our sin, in order that we might be identified with his righteousness. Now, he tells them, think about what that means for your everyday lives.

In 8:9 we have another summary of the gospel: 'You remember the generosity of our Lord Jesus Christ – how, though he was rich, he became poor for your sake, so that we, through his poverty, might become rich'. This summary concentrates on what we would call the 'incarnation' than on Christ's death and resurrection, and the language is clearly chosen carefully. And the point? Why, to persuade the Corinthians to be like Christ! In other words, they should put their hands into their pockets and contribute generously to the collection for the church in Jerusalem . To refuse to do so is in effect to reject the gospel itself.

The relevance of the gospel to one's manner of life is a central theme in the letter to the Philippians. Most of Paul's letters deal with pastoral problems, and that means that their contents are largely dictated by the matters that need to be dealt with. The language Paul uses reflects those problems. Philippians is unusual because there doesn't seem to be any particular problem – apart, that is, from a minor disagreement between two ladies hinted at in 4:2. Although commentators have sometimes imagined huge problems within the Philippian community, the 'opponents' who are mentioned do not seem to have belonged to the church. Paul's concern for the community appears to arise from his own position – in prison, facing a possible death sentence. Will he ever see his beloved Philippian church again? He writes to comfort them – and to make sure that they will carry on his work. He reminds them of the gospel – the gospel about one who was in the form of God, but was content to take the form of a slave. Whether or not Paul composed the famous passage in Philippians 2, its language is just what he needs. It speaks of Christ becoming what we are – taking human form – being obedient to death, and being exalted and proclaimed Lord.

This so-called 'hymn' is introduced by an appeal to the community to be like Christ – something that is possible only because they are in him: They are to be governed by the mind which was in Christ Jesus – the mind which is now theirs because they are in him. They are to follow the example of Christ – or rather, to allow him to live in them, and to live in a matter that is worthy of the gospel (1:27). Theology and ethics are welded together.

The gospel is, then, a model for Christian living; and it is the model for Paul's own ministry. In the next chapter, he reminds the Philippians that he, too, had abandoned what he had – his status within Judaism; the language he uses echoes that of the hymn; his goal is to be found in Christ. Sharing his sufferings, his hope is that he will share his resurrection (3:10). For Paul, 'being in Christ' means 'being conformed to Christ', and since he models his life on the Gospel, he urges the Philippians to imitate him (3:17). The hope they share is that their mortal bodies will be conformed to Christ's body of glory. Once again, Paul's language echoes the 'hymn' in chapter 2.

It would seem, then, that Paul's pastoral approach is rooted in his understanding of the gospel. He starts from the conviction that the Christian life is a matter of conformity to the gospel – of living in Christ. Paul is a very

practical theologian. His language is chosen to fit the context; he is prepared to express the gospel in unusual and sometimes shocking ways, in order to show its relevance. In demonstrating the relevance of the gospel to the problems confronting his congregations he shows himself to be a good pastor, as well as a profound theologian.

[1] Even Colossians, if it is a genuine letter, was written to a congregation that was an off-shoot of the Pauline mission, having been founded by Paul's co-worker Epaphras.

[2] These questions are aptly raised by Christopher D. Stanley, in Arguing from Scripture: Quotations in the Letters of Paul (T. & T. Clark, New York & London , 2004).

[3] Paul Schubert, The Form and Function of the Pauline Thanksgivings, BZNTW 20, Berlin , 1939.

[4] Cf. David Cook, 'The Prescript as Programme in Galatians'. JTS NS 43, 1992, pp. 511-19.

[5] 4 Ezra 3:21–22, 25–26; 7:48 (118).

*********************************************************************************************************************************

Prof Michel Gourgues OP: « Remember Jesus Christ » (2 Tm 2: 8,11-13): From a Baptismal Instruction to an Encouragement Addressed to Missionaries

Remember Jesus Christ

risen from the dead,

descended from David.

These words open a Christological proclamation at the heart of the 2^nd chapter (v. 8) in the second letter to Timothy, that goes on a few verses later (vv. 11-13) to spell out the repercussions of the resurrection on believers:

¹¹If we have died with him, we shall also live with him;

¹²If we endure, we shall also reign with him;

If we deny him[1], he also will deny us;

¹³if we are unfaithful, he remains faithful

for he cannot deny himself.

The first step of our investigation will be to confirm the strong connection that binds this proclamation to the first part of the letter, especially with regards to the frequently recurring theme of the suffering involved in announcing the Gospel. Just like the great Christological proclamation of 1 Tm 3:16[2], 2 Tm 2:8,11-13 presents the characteristics of a traditional formula drawn from community liturgy. However its integration into 2 Tm has conferred on the proclamation a new role in comparison to the one that it had in its original context, which was very likely baptismal. Whereas the connection between the proclamation and the first part of 2 Tm is obvious, it is more difficult to define with clarity that which binds it to the second part of the letter[3].

Links with the first part of the letter

2 Tm 2:8-13 forms part of a section in the imperative begun in 2:1. It contains exhortations addressed to Timothy and concerns him personally. Just before the command addressed in 2:8 (« remember ») we find three verbs in the imperative: « be strong » in 2:1, « entrust » in 2:2, « suffer with » in 2:3. It is quite striking to note that these three exhortations both in their formulation and in their object repeat and extend the exhortations that had already been given in the preceding chapter (1:6-14) following the opening address (1:1-2) and initial thanksgiving of the epistle (1:3-5).

2:1 « be strong (verb ndunamçw) in the grace 1:6-7 « ⁶I remind you to rekindle the gift of

2:2 « and what you have heard from me » (… 1:13-14 « ¹³ Follow the pattern of the sound

Økousav par@ moÂ), (…) entrust (verb words which you have heard from me (ön

2:3 « Take your share of suffering 1:8 « Do not be ashamed then of testifying

While the first two exhortations (in 2:1 and 2:2) are contained in one verse, the one that begins in 2:3 stretches until v. 13. The theme of suffering dominates the whole section and gives it cohesion. Although the actual verb « to suffer» (p€scw) may itself be absent, its composite equivalent can be found twice, first in the exhortation in v. 3, « Take your share of suffering (verb sugkakopaqw) as a good soldier of Christ Jesus », and then in v. 9 : «…the Gospel for which I am suffering (kakopaqw) and wearing fetters like a criminal ». There then follows one right after the other a whole range of closely related vocabulary and images which all depict the idea of bearing trial, of effort and of costly demands: « soldier in service » (2:4), « wrestle » (2:5), « hardworking » (2:6), « fetters », « fettered » (2:9), « endure » (2:10), « die with » (2:11), « hold firm » (2:12).

The exhortation addressed to Timothy in v. 3 to « take his share of suffering » is two fold. The first part extends to v. 6 is expressed by three related images that involve labour, costly investment and total commitment. [4] A soldier devotes himself entirely to his military activities without concerning himself with his upkeep and without getting entangled in civilian pursuits that could distract him (vv. 3b-4); an athlete must submit to all the rules of his discipline, whether they be those regarding training or the competition itself (v. 5); in order to have a share in the crops a farmer needs to be hard working (v. 6). It’s within this context that we find vv. 8-13 which constitute the object of our investigation. They form what we could call the second part of the exhortation addressed to Timothy, providing him with motivation that can sustain him. These motives are inspired on the one hand by reference to the risen Christ, and on the other hand by Paul’s own experience and the manner in which he himself, at the present moment must also tolerate suffering.[5] This second motivational factor [6] appears inserted and encased into the primary and fundamental factor:

It is to this fundamental reference to the risen Christ that we will now turn our attention.

We have seen that the exhortation contained in 2:8-13 urges Timothy to remember the risen Christ[7] in order to motivate him to remain firm in the midst of « sufferings » endured for the sake of the Gospel. It does this in two ways: first of all through the actual proclamation of the resurrection in 2:8 and secondly by spelling out in 2:11-13 all of its repercussions on believers. There is good evidence for suspecting in both of these passages, reference to pre-existing formula(e) already known by the communities.

The principle facts in favour of the traditional character of the proclamation contained in 2:8 [8] are as follows :

a) Almost all of the vocabulary contained in this proclamation contrasts markedly with that of 2 Timothy. Nowhere else, either in this letter nor in the rest of the Pastoral Epistles do we find the verbs : mnjmoneÀw (« to remember ») and ge°rw (« to be raised ») nor the words « seed » (sprma) nor « David », nor the expression «from the dead ». The nominal adjective nekrçv will only recur once in 4:1 when speaking of Christ, « who is to judge the living and the dead ». Moreover this is the only place where the designation « Jesus Christ » is to be found, since in the dozen other cases where he is named, it is always in the reverse order, « Christ Jesus ».

b) The formula « risen from the dead » is on the other hand a classic and it is to be found not only within Pauline tradition (Rm 4 :24; 10:9; 1 Co 15 :12, 20; Ga 1:1; 1 Th 1:10; cf. Ep 1:20; Col 2 :12) but also in other New Testament traditions (Ac 3:15; 4:2,10; 10:41; 13:30,34; 1 P 1:3,21), and frequently in passages where the reference to ancient formulae can be detected.[9]

c) Whereas reference to the resurrection is crucial in the argument being presented, the clause regarding « of the seed of David » has no role to play. One must conclude that it is a further section of the formula being quoted. Interestingly, Jesus’ messianic quality is formulated in exactly the same way (k sprmatov Dau°d) in Rm 1:3, a passage which seems to be also drawing on an underlying tradition.

Here as in a number of traditional formulae, the proclamation of the resurrection is expressed by use of the verb ge°rw. What is unusual in this particular case is that the passive participle be in the perfect tense (gjgermnon). It is the only case where we find this since the verb is usually in the aorist (either the indicative ×grqj or the participle gerqe±v) when used in the passive. The traditional credo of 1 Co 15:3 (« Christ was raised », gÐgertai) uses it in the perfect indicative. What nuance is the author trying to express? Whereas the aorist expresses a past action which is over and done with, the perfect refers to a past action with permanent repercussions or a past action that resulted in an enduring state of things which extends to the present moment: Christ is risen and, so to speak, remains risen. He lives forever. As Paul affirms in Rm 6:9, « Being raised from the dead, Christ will never die again. Death no longer has dominion over him ». This point of view is in keeping with the proclamations contained in 2:11-13 which concern the lasting life, reign and fidelity of the risen Christ.

The following elements argue in favour of the traditional character of 2:11b-13:

a) Rhythm and the structure: The passage has a symmetrical construction built of four parallel proclamations which all begin with a condition clause (preposition e¸) in the first person plural; in the first two proclamations the principal clause is in the first person plural (« we shall also reign »), while in the following two proclamations the third person singular with ke²nov as subject is employed (« that one also will deny us » and « that one remains faithful »). The proclamation contained in the fourth line (2:13a) is the only one where the second clause doesn’t begin with ka± and it then develops into a declaration that breaks the rhythm, « for he cannot deny himself ». One may wonder whether this line was part of the original formula. Moreover, the fourth proclamation contains the adjective pistçv, which appears with relative frequency in the Pastorals (17 times, of which 3 in 2 Tm): is this an addition by the author’s own hand?

b) Introductory formula: The four proclamations are prefaced by the formula, « The saying is sure » (v. 11a) which is surely an appropriate introduction to the quotation of a well known saying.[10]

c) Vocabulary: A good number of terms such as « to die with » and « to live with» in v.11, « to reign with » in vs. 12a, «to be unfaithful» in v. 13a are not to be found elsewhere in 2 Tm. The verb ‡rnomai (« to deny », vs. 12b and 13a) only ever appears in one other place, in 3:5[11].

d) Affinities with certain other passages in Paul. As we shall see, the proclamation’s first line, « If we have died with him, we shall also reign with him » is to be found almost word for word in Rm 6:8, which may also be making referring to an earlier formula[12].

e) In contrast to the two « positive » proclamations contained in 2:11b (« If we have died with him… ») and 2:12a (« If we endure… ») the negative proclamations of 2:12b (« If we deny him ») and 2:13a (« if we are unfaithful … ») seem hardly appropriate to a passage which aims to motivate and encourage. Just as in the case of the clause, “of the seed of David” in 2:8, one may suspect the presence of the formula which is now being quoted at greater length.

If vv. 11-13 do indeed contain a traditional formula, they are nonetheless only a fragment of this formula since the central figure of Christ to which they refer is never named. Perhaps they are a continuation of the formula quoted in v.8 which opened with the mention of Jesus Christ[13] in the same manner that a stanza is connected to a refrain and develops its content. Moreover the presence of a g€r (« for if we have died with him ») at the beginning of the first proclamation in v. 11b makes it hardly plausible that these be the opening words of a hymn or formula of the same genre. Perhaps the use of the conjunction betrays the author’s editorial work in trying to bind the quotation to the context.