Events    

2008 Annual Conference - Talks

Prof Morna Hooker: Paul as Pastor: The Relevance of the Gospel

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  

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Prof Morna Hooker: Paul as Pastor: The Relevance of the Gospel

Morna D. Hooker

Robinson College , Cambridge

            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.

Introductions

            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. 

Credal summaries

            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. 

            For Paul, however, living with Christ – sharing his resurrection ­–

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:

     Our Lord Jesus Christ died for us,

     so that we might live with him.

Here we find:

     The Son of God loved me and gave himself for me,

      in order that I might live to God;

      and it is no longer I who live,

            but Christ who lives in me. 

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,

     One has died for all,

     therefore all have died.

     And he died for all

     in order that the living might no longer live to themselves,

     but to the one who died and was raised for them.

Once again, we note the parallel with 1 Thess. 5:10:

     Our Lord Jesus Christ died for us,

     so that we might live with him.

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.

     He was handed over for our trespasses.

     and raised for our ‘rightwising’.

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.

Ethics

            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.

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

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

(c€riv) that is in Christ Jesus »                                      God (c€risma) that is within you (…)

                                                                                    ⁷ for God did not give us a spirit of timidity

                                                                                    but a spirit of power (dÀnamiv)… »

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

parat°qjmi) to faithful men »                                       par@ �mo Økousav), (...).¹⁴ guard the

                                                                                    good deposit (paraqÐkj) … »

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

(sugkakop€qjson) as a good soldier                            to our Lord (…) but take your share of

of Jesus Christ. »                                                           suffering (sugkakop€qjson) for the

                                                                                    Gospel. »

         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:

A. Reference to the risen Christ                         2: 8

B. Paul’s experience                              2: 9-10

A’. Reference to the risen Christ                        2:11-13

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

Traditional character

         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.

1)      The proclamation of the resurrection: « Remember… » (2: 8)

    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.

2)      The implications of the resurrection (2: 11-13)

         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.

The Original Context and the Context in which it is now being used

         We can now turn our attention to the content of the four proclamations taken from the traditional formula and examine what role and meaning they may have had in their original context as well the role and meaning they assumed when transposed into the framework of 2 Tm.

         1. « If we have died with him…»  (2:11b). Death-with-Christ will yield to life-with-Christ.  But what exactly does «dying with Christ mean »?  What experience is being referred to?

         The hymn’s setting would tend to favour a literal interpretation of these words.  In the preceding verses, the experiences being mentioned refer to very concrete events which can be placed in the following order: sufferings, trials, fetters and prison.  And following the hymn, there is mention of attitudes and experiences related to life: to be faithful and to endure, or the opposite which is to deny and prove oneself unfaithful.  This naturally lends itself to interpreting « If we have died with him » as referring to the believer’s own physical death, lived in communion with Christ’s, commending oneself to him in faith:  Just as Christ experienced death after undergoing sufferings and trials, so the believer can be called to follow in his footsteps and undergo the same; and thus if he follows Christ in his death he will also follow him in life.  Such an interpretation fits in well with the overall framework of 2 Tm.  But does it impart the original sense of the proclamation?

         a) The verb « to die with » is used here in the aorist.  It therefore refers to a once and for all past experience.  If believers were here proclaiming their hope of taking part in the life of the risen Christ after their death, would they not have been more likely to speak of it in the future (as in the third line where we literally find: “if we will deny him”) or in the present conditional (as in the case of the second line: “if we endure”)?  If that were the case the line would read, “If we shall die with him, we shall also live with him.”  However the aorist is used and one cannot help being surprised that living should speak of their death – or their possible martyrdom – using the past tense.  Perhaps one shouldn’t attach too much importance to the use of the aorist since the phrase expresses a conditional proposition and as Greek Grammars point out, the use of tense is highly complex when expressing the conditional.  Propositional statements can be structured in a wide variety of ways in the New Testament, and it is very difficult to establish which constructions are according to the rule and which are “anomalia”.[14]

         b) Rm 6:8 contains the very same affirmation as 2 Tm 2:11b, formulated in almost the same terms: « If we have died with Christ we believe that we shall also live with him » [e¸ d ‡peq€nomen sÁn (instead of sunapeq€nomen) Cristþ, pisteÀomen êti ka± suzÐsomen

aÇtþ]. Either 2 Tm is quoting Paul, or else both Paul and 2 Timothy are repeating an earlier formula.  The latter seems the more likely of the two since the 2 Tm proclamation is part of a larger passage where it is followed by proclamations that do not contain typically Pauline vocabulary. Rm 6:8 would then be making very fragmentary use of a formula which receives wider publication in 2 Tm 2:11-13.  Further evidence to this end is offered by the presence of the declaration pisteÀomen êti (« we believe that »), which may be making reference to a traditional credal formula.

         In Rm 6, both death-with-Christ and life-with-Christ are clearly connected with baptism: « we were buried therefore with him by baptism into death, so that as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, we too might walk in newness of life » (6:4).  Could one not then suspect in the formula echoed by both Paul and 2 Tm 2:11-13, the fragment of a hymn which originated in a baptismal context?  That being the case, death-with-Christ would not be referring to death in the literal sense, but in a spiritual and symbolic sense since baptism enables believers to participate in Jesus’ death and resurrection.  This would also account for 2 Tm 2:11b’s use of the past tense in speaking of this death. “If we have died with him[15] we shall also live with him.”  Baptism has marked the beginning of participation in the Pascal mystery which then finds its full achievement in sharing the life (line 1) and reign (line 2) of the Risen Christ. 

         2. « If we endure… » (2:12a). If one admits a reference to baptism in line 1 (2 Tm 2,11b), then the hymn takes on a certain coherence with the three following lines then referring to the commitment that follows baptism.  Considered first of all in its positive dimension, endurance (line 2), it is then seen from a negative point of view, denial (line 3) and infidelity (line 4).

         The verb Ãpomnw, « to hold fast, to endure, to persevere » expresses the idea of fidelity.  The believer is called to hold fast to his baptismal commitment and to the bond with Christ inaugurated on that occasion.   Given its context, the hymn refers to a fidelity that is maintained in the midst of trials and difficulties.  The author had made use of exactly the same verb Ãpomnw two verses earlier on (2:10) in order to speak of his own experience in the midst of imprisonment and suffering : « Therefore I endure (Ãpomnw) everything for the sake of the elect ». As we shall see, the author will again mention his difficult experiences at the end of the letter in a passage where he also makes known his hope: « The Lord will rescue me from every evil and save me for his heavenly Kingdom (basile°a) » (2 Tm 4:18). The image of participation in the Kingdom of Christ, already present in the hymn quoted by 2 Tm 2:12a where it was used to express the common hope of all believers that, « if we endure, we shall also reign with him (sumbasileÀsomen) »,[16] is now used to express the same thing on an individual level.

         It is interesting to note that the same image is again used by Paul in Rm 5:17 : « how much more will those who receive the abundance of grace and the free gift of righteousness reign in life (�n zwÞ basileÀsousin) through the man Jesus Christ ». « We shall live with him », proclaims 2 Tm 2:11b; « We shall also reign with him » takes up the following line in Tm 2:12a. « They shall reign in life» says Saint Paul.  Could it be that in this line from Rm 5 we already hear a resonance of the same baptismal hymn that, as we have seen, Paul refers to in the following chapter (6:8)?

         3. « If we deny him… » (2:12b). The conjunction ei followed by the future, as in the present case, expresses the idea of a hypothetical situation: ‘Were we ever to deny him.’ [17]  Which hypothetical situation might he have in mind?

         The verb ‡rnomai, translated here by « deny » can have a wide range of meanings, all of them related to the general idea of refusal and negation.  Given the context, one can only suppose that in this case « to deny » has the radical sense of abandoning or breaking off the relationship to Christ inaugurated at Baptism.  It’s a stance that is in marked opposition to the once described in the previous line involving faithfulness and perseverance in the relationship to Christ.  « To deny » would then appear to be the antonym of « to endure ».

         A striking contrast that is again expressed by the last part of the sentence: « he also will deny us ».  In the two previous lines, just as in the one that follows, there is mention of only a positive attitude on the part of Christ or of a positive communion with him.  Here, on the other hand, his manner seems very harsh. If believers deny Christ, if they opt for breaking off their relationship with him, he will have no alternative but act accordingly.  He too will « deny » them since he cannot force them to maintain the relationship.  This is in perfect keeping with not only the content but also the formulation of Jesus’ logion in Mt (10:32) and Lk (12:9): «Whoever denies me before men, I also will deny before my Father who is in heaven ».  The similarity, especially with respect to Matthew, makes it difficult to imagine that our formula isn’t a direct echo of Jesus’ words which may not yet exist in the written form but are already part of an oral tradition.

         The use of the future, « He also will deny us » has to be understood in an eschatological sense, just as in the case of the two preceding proclamations with the future, « we shall also live with him » (2 :11b) and « we shall also reign with him » (2:12a).  Things are being seen from the point of view of the final judgement exercised by « Christ Jesus who is to judge the living and the dead » (4:1).  Denial which elicits the same attitude on Christ’s part will be maintained to the end. It is probably the decisive aspect of a total break which distinguishes denial from the infidelity spoken of in the next line.  Infidelity will be met with very different consequences for, « if we are unfaithful, he remains faithful ».  There are therefore different kinds of denial.  The one that receives the severe sentence mentioned in line 3 is an unrepentant denial, which doesn’t just mean missing the mark but it involves a complete change of direction.

         4. «If we are unfaithful… » (2:13). The verb ‡pistw used in line 4 can mean « to not believe » and frequently takes on the nuance of a refusal to believe.  However this sense is unlikely in the present case since the attitude depicted is contrasted with Christ’s, which is described as pistçv, where the sense « faithful » applies rather than « believing ».  The opposite attitude would thus be infidelity rather than unbelief: «if we are unfaithful, he remains faithful ».[18]  Thus our passage affirms something with respect to Christ that Paul in another context affirms about God: «What if some were unfaithful (verb ‡pistw)?  Does their infidelity (‡pist°a) cancel God’s fidelity (p°stin)? By no means »! (Rm 3:3-4)   

         What forms of infidelity does the author have in mind?  The text says nothing.  The only infidelity we can exempt is that which involves denial, in the sense of opting for a decisive break, as was the situation in the preceding line.  Within this category one could no doubt include even a temporary denial as was Peter’s case.  It is significant that 2 Tm 2:12a twice uses the verb ‡rnomai which the Gospels are unanimous (Mk 14:68, 70 par.; Jn 18:25, 27) in employing to express the denial by the first among Jesus’ disciples. Peter denied Jesus but later recovered and Jesus did not « deny » him.  According to the hymn, a denial followed by repentance, as in Peter’s case, would count more as « infidelity » than actual denial.  Whereas «denial » means an absolute break in a relationship, permanently renouncing faith and any reference to Christ, infidelity involves a temporary break in relations, or else a certain incoherence or defect in the way that faith is lived out.

Further echoes in the rest of the letter?

         A closer look at the contents of 2 Tm reveals that the hymn quoted in 2:8,11-13 is placed at a junction between two sections with very different characteristics.  From 1:1 up to 2:13 (or 2:10 if we exclude the hymn itself) we have a section in I-You language, where the author’s « I » and the addressee’s « you » dominate from one end to the other.  This section will resurface and continue at the very end of the letter, from 4:6-22. Whereas from the beginning of the letter his experience had been regularly referred to in connection with the exhortation addressed to Timothy, in the middle section from 2:14 to 4:5 the author’s « I » becomes notably absent. Reference to the community or communities’ experience, expressed more often than not in the 3rd person plural now substitutes for Paul’s « I » (cf. 1 :1) as a counterpart to Timothy’s « you ».  From 2:14 to 4:5[19] one can count no less than eighteen commands given in the 2^nd person : « remember this  », « avoid that », « proclaim », « refute », « exhort », « endure suffering »…Whereas instructions delivered at the beginning of the letter concerned Timothy on a personal level, they now concern him in so far as he serves others in the like manner of a « workman » (2:15), a « servant » (2:24), « rightly handling the word of truth » (2:15) and doing the « work of an evangelist » (4:15).

         The beginning of the new section (2:14a) wants to appear connected with what came earlier: « Remind them (present imperative) of these things (taÂta)  ». What do « these things » refer to?  According to some it denotes the group of preceding exhortations[20] or else the teaching that Timothy has received, and to which reference was made at the beginning of the chapter (2:2) or perhaps both of these things at the same time[21]. For others, taÂta refers specifically to the proclamation of faith which has just been quoted in 2:11-13[22].  Elements that bind one passage to another can be detected.  In the proclamation of faith there is mention, in the future tense, of the resurrection of Christ (2:11b).  It prepares the ground for a counter-argument to those who affirm that the resurrection has already taken place, a position which will be condemned as erroneous in 2:18.  Similarly, there may be a connection between the « disputations about words » along with similar practices condemned in 2:14-26 and the second part of the formula quoted in 2:12-13 which spoke of denial and fidelity.  This «godless chatter » is attributed to « ungodliness » (2:16), « swerving from the truth » (2:18) and « iniquity » (2:19).  Most of all however, the hope expressed in 2:25 of the conversion of opponents may echo the proclamation in 2:13 which asserts God’s fidelity in spite of believers’ infidelity.  Yet despite these bonds one must take into account an absence of verbal correspondence between these passages and the hymn in 2:8, 11-13.

         Perhaps the connection between the two sections that can be most readily admitted is the first one mentioned: the proclamation of the hope of life with Christ (2:11) and the refutation a few verses later (2:18) of the affirmation that « the resurrection is past already ».  As the fragment from a baptismal hymn quoted in Ep 5 :14 testifies, already before Paul the Christian faith had seen in the spiritual experience of baptism the locus for the believer’s participation in Christ’s death and resurrection.  One was therefore not wrong to speak in the past tense of resurrection with Christ, while at the same time proclaiming the hope of resurrection from the dead which would mark full communion with the mystery of the Risen Lord.  Paul himself speaks in these terms: « We were buried (aorist synetaphèmen) therefore with him by baptism into death, so that as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, we too might walk in newness of life.  For if we have been united with him in a death like his, we shall certainly be united with him in a resurrection like his ». (Rm 6: 4-5). The same conviction is strongly underlined by Col (2:12-13; 3:1) and Ep (2:5-6) when the past tense is used to speak of the resurrection of believers with Christ.  It’s through tinkering around with words from the credal formulae that the authors of «profane, empty utterances» condemned in 2 Tm 2:16-18 came to the conclusion that, « the resurrection is past already ».

         According to certain commentators, things are more complex and the affirmation that the resurrection has already taken place is not simply the warping of a perfectly orthodox Christian conviction concerning baptism, but the expression of a Gnostic point of view. [23] In their description of certain Gnostic currents of thought, 2nd century Christian authors record an affirmation similar to that of 2 Tm 2:18.  A past resurrection is set in relation to the experience of baptism[24] or is understood in purely spiritual terms[25], sometimes connected with the knowledge of the truth[26] or union with the risen Christ[27].

    The first interpretation connected with baptism appears nevertheless more convincing since nowhere else in 2 Tm do we find trace of concepts related to those that will later be held by Gnostic thinking.  Making such an association with 2 Tm 2:18 is a result of assimilating 2 Tm with 1 Tm.  The latter does indeed manifest such affinities (1 Tm 4:3-5).  If one sticks strictly to the material of 2 Tm, the idea of the resurrection having already taken place is best understood in relation to the traditional concept of baptism.  A deciding argument in favour of this position is the quotation just a few lines earlier in 2 Tm 2:11 of a pre-existing formula which refers to this baptismal concept.  We have already seen that the use of the aorist in the proclamation, «If we have died with him » seems to imply that it is speaking of baptism.  So it is not surprising that just before condemning those who warp its interpretation (2:18), 2 Tm quotes the proclamation of faith, all the more so since it affirms the future character of the resurrection with Christ: « We shall live with him…we shall also reign with him » (2:11b, 12b).

         As was earlier pointed out, the I-You section begun in 2 Tm 1 :1-2,13 and interrupted in 2 :14 - 4 :5 is taken up again in 4:6 and maintained until the end of the letter (4:22). Right from the first verse, in 4:6, someone who in the letter refers to himself as Paul alludes to his imminent death.  «For I am already on the point of being sacrificed: the time of my departure (‡n€lusiv) has come ». [28]  The opening verse of this section which concerns his personal situation corresponds to the end in 4:18, just before the closing salutation, when Paul’s imminent death and his motivating hope are again recalled: «The Lord will rescue me from every evil and save me for his heavenly Kingdom (e¸v tÑn basile°an aÇtoÂ). » In the image of the Kingdom, are we not again hearing an echo of the hope filled conviction expressed in 2:12 by quotation of the hymn: « If we endure we shall also reign with him (sumbasileÀsomen) ». In such a case, the hymn’s contents would be again fulfilling their role of motivating and supporting Paul in a difficult situation, just as they did in the first part of the letter with regards to the trials being undergone by the apostle and his disciple.

A stratified ordering based on purpose

         With regards to the proclamation of Jesus’ resurrection inscribed at the heart of the second letter to Timothy (2:8) and its four ensuing repercussions on the hope and commitment of believers (2 :11b-13) certain facts can be discerned with clarity, others with relative certainty and yet others can only be classed as hypothetical.

         Into the first category one must place the fact that these proclamations, by their very context aim to inspire, motivate and infuse hope into both the author and his addressee during a difficult phase of their apostolic work, as depicted in the first part of the letter.  This role is specially connected to the first two clauses concerning death with Christ (v. 11a) and perseverance in following in his footsteps (v. 12a) as indicated in the latter case by the presence of the same verb Ãpomnw in the proclamation of faith and the former  description of Paul’s trials (2:10) .  There is also a fair amount of literary evidence for maintaining that 2 Tm 2:8,11-13 -  with the exception of v. 13b -  is related to formulae of the hymnic genre found elsewhere in the New Testament.  Everything points to the presence of traditional elements drawn from community liturgy.

         Less clear, though relatively certain would be the conclusion that the hymn fragment reproduced in 2 Tm originated in a baptismal context.  This conclusion is suggested by use of the aorist form of the verb « die with » in 2:11b and the similarity with the manner in which baptism was understood in the Pauline tradition.    This being the case, one must conclude that the hymnic passage has undergone a change of role in 2 Tm from its original purpose.  Taken as a whole, the fragment’s content suggests a kind of baptismal instruction which both describes the ultimate object of hope and gives a life program which includes endurance and fidelity, fundamental attitudes expected of believers in the wake of their attachment and belonging to the risen Christ.

         And finally, what could be classed as belonging to the realm of the hypothetical concerns the connection that binds the proclamation of 2 Tm 2:8, 11-13 to the second part of the letter.  The absence of verbal similarities makes one hesitant about reading the ecclesial confession, « we shall live with him » in 2:11b as a kind of anticipated refutation of the erroneous affirmation that, « the resurrection is past already », to which 2 Tm will take exception a few verses later (2:18). Does the presence of similar imagery in both sections suffice to qualify the certitude expressed by Paul in 2 Tm 4:18 that, « the Lord will save me for his heavenly Kingdom » as an echo of the hope proclaimed by the hymn in 2:12b that, «we shall also reign with him »?[29]

Michel Gourgues, O.P.

Dominican University College

Ottawa.  

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

Morna D. Hooker

Robinson College , Cambridge

Introduction   

            2 Cor 5:21 is often – discouragingly! – described as 'one of the most difficult verses in the New Testament'.  Its problems are obvious.  Perhaps the   most striking feature of the verse is Paul's extraordinary use of the terms a9marti/a and dikaiosu/nh.  Why does he use nouns, and what does he mean by them?  The statement that Christ was made sin startles us, but the parallel clause, informing us that we have become the righteousness of God, is equally puzzling, for the addition of the word Qeou= destroys the symmetry of the parallel and is certainly unexpected.  Even the simple words in the verse cause problems: what does Paul mean by h9mei=v?  Does Paul meander in his use of 'us' in this section between the apostolic (meaning Paul and his co-workers) to the general (meaning 'all Christians') and is he thinking in v. 21 of all Christians or of the role of the apostles?  Finally, what is the relationship of this verse to the argument as a whole?  Why, in the course of a lengthy exposition of his understanding of his ministry, does Paul throw in no less than three summary statements of the gospel, in vv. 14-15, 18-19, and 21?  What is their precise relevance to his argument? 

            2 Cor. 5:21 is one of a number of Pauline texts that express an idea that some of us have described in terms of an ‘interchange’ between Christ and the believer.[1]  Christ is identified with our condition, in order that we may be identified with him, and so share in what he is.  What Paul understood by this was expressed brilliantly by Irenaeus, in the classic summary: 'Christ became what we are, in order that we might become what he is'.[2]  Interestingly, however, neither 2 Cor 5:21 nor its closest parallel, Gal. 3:13, offers us a statement that is as symmetrical as the one coined by Irenaeus. For although in Gal. 3:13, ‘curse’ is balanced by ‘blessing’, we are told that Christ became a curse, in accordance with Deut. 21:23, not in order that we might become a blessing, but in order that, in him, the blessing might come to the Gentiles , and that we all – Jewish Christians and Gentiles alike – might receive the Spirit of God.

            In 2 Corinthians 5:21, also, we have a lack of symmetry.  It is true that this time we have two nouns, so that we can reduce the central contrast to the statement that

   He made him to be sin for us

   in order that we might become righteousness in him

– but that is to ignore the word Qeou=!  Moreover, the introductory 'he who knew no sin' creates a further imbalance by forming an additional contrast to 'he made him to be sin'. 

            This introductory phrase is perhaps easy to understand.  The description of Christ as a9marti/a is shocking – so shocking that Paul apparently considered it necessary to ensure that he was not misunderstood.  There can be no question here of the noun being used for an adjective – an explanation sometimes employed in Galatians 3 with reference to the noun ‘curse’: Christ was not made 'sinful'.  Yet almost all commentators interpret the second noun, dikaisosu/nh, as equivalent to an adjective. This can hardly be simply di/kaiov, however, since Paul qualifies dikaisosu/nh with Qeou=.  Again, many commentators would endorse the comment of C. K. Barrett, who suggests that if the statement that 'Christ became sin' means that 'he came to stand in that relation with God which normally is the result of sin, estranged from God and the object of his wrath', then 'we became righteousness' means that we 'have come to stand in that relationship with God which is described by the term righteousness, that is, we are acquitted in his court, justified, reconciled'.[3] According to this forensic understanding of the term, dikaisosu/nh is treated as the equivalent of the participle dikaiwqe/ntev,[4] and Qeou= is regarded as a genitive of origin: it is God who has 'rightwised' us, and God in whose court we are acquitted.  An alternative explanation, which we will examine presently, suggests that dikaisosu/nh, like a9marti/a – and like kata/ra and eu0logi/a in Gal 3:13f. – should be seen as an active power.

Context

            Let us begin by looking at the passage in context.  The theme of 2 Corinthians is Paul's ministry – and though the epistle opens with thanksgiving that he and the Corinthian congregation have been reconciled, the letter is in effect a defence of his ministry.  In chapter 3, Paul boldly compares his ministry with that of Moses, and uses the story of God’s self-revelation to Moses on Sinai to demonstrate both the continuity between old and new and the superiority of the new.  Paul himself is, he tells his readers, a minister of a new covenant (3:6), and he is entrusted with a ministry of the Spirit which is also a ministry of righteousness, a ministry which brings life and which abounds in glory.  This glory is seen in Christ, who is the image of God, and all who turn to the Lord see this glory and reflect it, being transformed into the same image.  

            Paul then explains what this transformation into glory means for himself (4:1–5:10).  Paradoxically, it involves suffering and persecution; he carries the dying of Jesus in his body, in order that the life of Jesus may be seen there (4:7-10).  And because he is being given up to death for Jesus’ sake, this bring life to others (4:11-12).  His manner of life and his relationship with others is thus shaped by the gospel.  Paul's understanding of his apostleship is, indeed, nothing less than conformity to the gospel: his ministry is a revelation of glory, but the glory is that of Christ, which means that Paul carries the death of Jesus in his body in order that the life of Jesus may be displayed there.  Yet the revelation of the glory of Christ is not confined to apostles.  'We are all being transformed into [Christ's] image', writes Paul (3:18).[5]  It is true that Paul seems to see his role as an apostle to be a channel of the 'interchange' of experience that has come to him in Christ.  Sharing in the sufferings of Christ, he has been able to pass on the consolation he has received to the Corinthians (1:3-7); experiencing the dying of Jesus, he has been enabled to bring life to them (4:8-12); his weakness has been the means of conveying Christ's power (13: 3-4).  But the process does not stop there!  The Corinthians themselves are a 'letter of Christ' (3:3), and the grace they experience extends to others (4:15).[6]  Those who have been made rich through Christ's poverty (8:9) are urged to share their wealth with others in ministering to the saints in Jerusalem (9:10-15).  In an earlier letter, 1 Corinthians, Paul had already defended his understanding of his apostolic role and urged the Corinthians to imitate him (1 Cor 4:15; 11:1).  The apostle's life is modelled on the pattern of the gospel, but it is intended as a model for others.

            The use of the first person plural throughout these chapters clearly applies to Paul in particular; he is describing his own experience.  Yet what he says is true – or ought to be true! – of Christians in general.  The pattern of the Gospel should be stamped on all their lives. 

First summary 

            At the beginning of 2 Corinthians 5, Paul describes how 'our earthly tent' is being destroyed, and how 'we groan', longing for a better dwelling; he is undoubtedly drawing here on his own experience, and precisely because it is his experience, it is linked with his apostolic calling.  Nevertheless, the experience of mortality is common to others, and the confidence he expresses should also be shared by others.  Similarly, 'we must all appear before the judgement seat of Christ' (5:10).  Immediately following this, however, the 'we' of v. 11 refers to Paul in particular: 'we try to persuade others', he says, and then describes what that means.  Whatever he does is 'for God' and 'for you' (v. 13).  V. 14 spells out the reason, and introduces the first brief summary of the gospel: 'The love of Christ controls us, since we hold that one died for all, therefore all have died.  And one died for all, in order that the living might no longer live to themselves but to the one who died and rose for them'.  At its heart, this summary in vv. 14-15 contains yet another statement of 'interchange':

   he died for all

   in order that [they] might live to [him].

Once again, however, the brief summary has been overlaid with various explanations.  The fact that Christ died for all means, first, that 'all have died': in other words, his death was not a substitute for theirs, but in some sense brought it about.  Secondly, his death for all means that 'those who live' should no longer live 'for themselves', but 'for him who died and was raised for them'.  Whether oi9 zw=ntev means 'all who live' (i.e. all humanity) or 'those who share Christ's risen life' (i.e. all Christians) is not clear, but since the clause expresses purpose, perhaps we should understand him to mean the former.  Moreover, the fact that Paul's argument is based on the statement that 'Christ died for all' suggests that he is thinking of life for all.

            We have, then, a statement of the gospel that is both familiar – 'he died and was raised' – and yet distinctive in the way that it indicates the purpose of his death and resurrection.  But why does Paul quote this summary of the gospel here?  He does so in order to apply it to his own ministry: the gospel means 'living for Christ', and for him, that means being constrained by Christ to persuade others – by word and example – of the truth of the gospel.  At the same time, he is anxious that the Corinthians should see the relevance of this gospel to their own lives.

            A further consequence of what has happened is that judgements 'according to the flesh' are no longer appropriate (v. 16).  This is because there is, in Christ, a new creation: the old has gone and the new has come (v. 17).  Here, too, what Paul says applies to all who are in Christ: hence he uses ti\v in v. 17.  But the reason why he says it is probably related to his own commission.  Before he was 'in Christ' he had judged him 'according to the flesh', but he does so no longer.  And it is precisely because his understanding of who Christ is is not 'according to the flesh' that he has what the Corinthians – who still have a tendency to see things from that perspective (1 Cor 3:1-4) – regard as a strange understanding of what it means to be an apostle. 

Second Summary

            Everything that has happened, we are now told, is from God, 'who reconciled us to himself, and gave us the ministry of reconciliation' (v. 18).  The first 'us' here cannot be limited to Paul and his colleagues: possibly Paul means 'us Christians', but the parallel statement in v. 19, which tells us that 'in Christ God reconciled the world to himself', suggests that he may be thinking of the whole human race.  But to whom is the message of reconciliation entrusted (vv. 18b, 19b)?  Is it to all who accept reconciliation?  Or is Paul thinking of his own call to proclaim the gospel?

            Since in v. 18 Paul speaks of God reconciling 'us' meaning 'us Christians', and since he immediately says that the ministry – or message – of reconciliation is entrusted to 'us', we expect the 'us' in v. 18b and v. 19b to have the same meaning as in v. 18a.  Is this ministry, then, entrusted to Christians in general?  Now there is certainly a sense in which we may say that all who accept reconciliation from God become themselves the agents of reconciliation.  Paul rarely uses the verb katalla/ssw; apart from the three occasions in vv. 18-20, we find it only in Rom 5:10 (where it is used twice, in both cases of our reconciliation to God) and 1 Cor 7:11, where the Christian woman is urged to be reconciled to her estranged husband. The noun is used elsewhere only in Rom. 5:11 and in 11:15, where Paul describes Israel ’s failure as bringing about the reconciliation of the world.  But though the term 'ministry of reconciliation' is unusual, the idea that Paul's ministry reflects the gospel is certainly not, and neither is his conviction that his converts should share his task.  The Corinthians share his sufferings and consolation (1:7), and they are urged to help him by their prayers (1:11), to imitate him (1 Cor 4:16; 11:1).  This idea is stressed in Philippians, where Paul urges members of the Christian community to prove themselves to be 'innocent and above reproach', to 'shine like stars in a dark world, and to proffer the word of life' (2:25-16).  Paul describes the Philippians as having shared in the work of ministry (1:5), and his purpose in writing seems to be to ensure that they continue his understanding of ministry as conformity to the gospel, appealing to them to imitate him (3:17; 4:9).[7]  Nevertheless, what he has in mind in 2 Cor 5:18-20 is clearly his own calling as an 'ambassador of Christ':[8] he is still trying to explain his understanding of his ministry to the Corinthians.  In other words, the context suggests that we should understand the pronouns in vv. 18b, 19b and 20a to refer specifically to Paul and his fellow evangelists.[9]  The fact that there is an obvious awkwardness in moving from 'us' meaning 'us men and women' in v. 18a to 'us' meaning 'us apostles' in v. 18b[10] is perhaps due to the fact that Paul is deliberately narrowing down the meaning here because he wants to demonstrate how he has endeavoured to live out the gospel.  It is perhaps for this reason that Paul has again summarized the gospel, using language which he then applies to his own mission.  As a result of the gospel, God is described as

   giving to us the ministry of reconciliation...

   entrusting to us the word of reconciliation...

   entreating through us. 

            We suggest, then, that the language Paul uses here to summarize the gospel – that in it God reconciles the world to himself – has once again been chosen because it is appropriate to what he wishes to say about his ministry. He understands his role in terms of bringing about reconciliation between God and the Gentiles.

Third Summary

            So what, specifically, is the message of reconciliation?  V. 21 offers us yet a third summary.  Once again, it speaks of the significance of Christ's death:

   The one who knew no sin

   God made sin on our behalf

   in order that we might become the righteousness of God in him. 

The previous summaries spoke of Christ dying 'for all', and of his death being a means of reconciliation for 'the world', whereby transgressions are not 'counted'.  The third, which is the 'appeal' made by Christ's ambassadors to the world, is more personal: 'Christ was made sin for us'. 

            Why a9marti/a?  The noun cannot here be a substitute for an adjective, but is it perhaps shorthand for a phrase?  Does it mean 'sin-offering'?[11] Attractive as this interpretation has been to some commentators, it must be rejected: Paul can hardly have used a9marti/a with two different meanings almost side by side.  But how could Christ have been 'made sin'?  In Galatians 3, the context offered some sort of explanation as to why Paul might have employed the nouns, 'curse' and 'blessing', but there is no help of this kind here.  The horror of the word serves to underline the need of the world for 'reconciliation'; this is what we are without Christ – 'sin' – alienated from God.  Sin is for Paul an alien power which corrupts the world and leads to death, because of the weakness of the flesh (Romans 6–7).  The Old Testament provides an analogy of what it means to be identified with sin in the scapegoat, and Jesus' own experience of 'being made sin', cut off from God, is graphically portrayed in the cry of dereliction (Mark 15:34//Matt. 27:46). 

            The purpose, we are told, was 'that we might become the righteousness of God in him'.  Once again we must ask 'who are the "we"?'  The assumption that dikaiosu/nh is equivalent to dikaiwqe/ntev means that the majority of commentators conclude that the 'we' here must refer to all Christians: we are all 'rightwised', 'accepted in God's court', and the 'righteousness' is understood to be a divine gift bestowed on believers.  Qeou= then emphasizes the fact that we are talking about a righteousness whose origin is God, not man.  But though the phrase 'the righteousness of God' is used elsewhere in contrast to 'my own righteousness' (Rom 10:3; Phil 3:9), this particular contrast hardly seems relevant here.  Why, then, should Qeou= be used here?  It may well be, of course, that Paul instinctively emphasized the fact that any 'righteousness' that Christians possessed came from God.  But the phrase dikaiosu/nh Qeou= presents us with a double puzzle.  If Paul has in mind here our 'rightwising', then why does he use the noun, dikaiosu/nh, rather than dikaiwqe/ntev?  Is the noun used merely to provide a contrast to a9marti/a?   We remember that in Gal. 3:13, also, there was in fact no symmetry, because Paul did not say that the Gentiles had become a blessing, but rather that the blessing came to them.  On the analogy of that passage, we might expect him to say here that 'Christ became sin in order that righteousness might come to us' – or 'in order that we might receive righteousness' – the expression he uses in Rom 9:30.  Instead, he declares that we become the righteousness of God.

            Essential to understanding Paul's way of thinking is the phrase e0n au0tw|, which features in so many of these 'interchange' passages.  It is only when we are united with Christ that we become righteousness.  Just as he was identified with our sin, so we – because we are in him – are now identified with God's righteousness.  We become what he is.  A similar idea is expressed in 1 Cor 1:30, where Paul declares that Christ 'became for us wisdom from God, righteousness and sanctification and redemption’.[12]  He is seen here as the source of our righteousness, as well as of wisdom, sanctification, and redemption.  These terms are all dynamic.  If Christ is 'for us wisdom from God', that is because he is himself both 'the power of God and the wisdom of God' (1 Cor 1:24).

            What, then, can it mean to 'become God's righteousness'?   It was Ernst Käsemann who suggested that understanding of the phrase 'the righteousness of God' in Paul had been shaped for many exegetes by the Reformation tradition.  Käsemann argued that in some passages in Paul, at least, the phrase should be understood as a subjective genitive characterizing God's own nature and activity, rather than as a righteousness bestowed on men and women.  In Jewish thought, God's righteousness is his integrity, his faithfulness to the covenant, his justice; it is demonstrated in putting things right, and is therefore revealed in both salvation and judgement.  We should remember that 'dikaiosu/nh qeou= is for Paul, as it is for the Old Testament and Judaism in general, a phrase expressing divine activity'.[13]  This meaning is clear in Rom 1:17; 3:5, 21-6, in all of which God's righteousness is revealed in salvation or (Rom 3:5) judgement, while in 1 Cor. 1:30, 'it appears as the direct manifestation of the Christ'.[14]  Käsemann concluded that in 2 Cor 5:21, God's righteousness becomes manifested on earth in 'those who live under the eschatological justice of God'.[15]  Bultmann disputed Käsemann's interpretation, saying that it was unnecessary to hold that a phrase had the same meaning in every case.[16]  This is certainly true – but the meaning elsewhere may nevertheless be a helpful guide![17]  Not surprisingly, Bultmann, following Luther, understood the phrase here to mean that we are 'justified' by God.  I wonder, however, whether Käsemann's suggestion has not pointed us to the key to understanding why Paul used this particular phrase here.  Elsewhere, it seems clear from the context that for Paul, dikaiosu/nh Qeou= does indeed refer primarily to God's activity in setting things to rights.  Even in Rom 10:3 and Phil 3:9, where God's righteousness stands in contrast to 'human righteousness', it is plain that his righteousness is manifested in the gospel (Rom 10:4; Phil 3:8-10).  Is there anything in the context of 2 Cor. 5:21, therefore, to suggest that when Paul uses the phrase there, he perhaps means that 'we' are in some sense partakers in this divine activity?

Paul’s Ministry

            In looking at the previous two summaries of the gospel (2 Cor 5:14-15, 18-19) we suggested that Paul's purpose in quoting them was to apply them, in particular, to his own ministry.  Is he perhaps doing something similar here?  Has he once again chosen language that is particularly apposite to his understanding of his ministry?  The context suggests that this is so.  In 6:1 he continues 'Working together with [Christ], we entreat you not to receive the grace of God in vain'.  He has moved here from the general to the particular: picking up the verb parakale/w, used in v. 20, where the audience was not specified, he now addresses the Corinthians. 'Now is the day of salvation', he declares (v.2) – they must not lose what they have been given!  It is fear that they might do so that explains why he is so anxious lest they reject his ministry (6:3).  Spelling out what this ministry has cost him, and the gifts that he has needed to exercise it, he declares that he has ministered 'in the power of God, with the weapons of righteousness in his right and left hands' (6:7).

             In the exercise of his ministry, then, Paul demonstrates the power of God, even though he is enduring weakness and affliction.  This experience reflects the paradox seen in Christ, who suffered weakness and shame, but who is the source of power and righteousness (1 Cor 1:23-5, 30). This is an idea that he will expound in 2 Cor 13:3–4: 

   Christ was crucified because of weakness

   But he lives because of God's power

   So we are weak in him

   But live with him – towards you – because of God's power.[18]

The weapons of righteousness wielded by Paul are of course also supplied by God.  The true minister of God, working in the power of God, embodies the gospel – the dying and rising of Christ – and so is himself an instrument of righteousness.  So it is, in 6:10, that Paul claims that by sharing in the extraordinary paradox of Christ's incarnation, death and resurrection – which means that though he is dying, yet he is alive (v. 9) – he is able, though poor, to make others rich (v. 10), thus sharing in the mission of Christ himself (8:9).

            Although both Bultmann and Barrett rejected Käsemann's understanding of the phrase dikaiosu/nh Qeou= in 2 Cor 5:21, it was Bultmann himself – quoted approvingly by Barrett[19] – who summed up most clearly what I am suggesting is conveyed by understanding dikaiosu/nh Qeou= in an active, rather than a passive, sense.  I use Barrett's translation: 'With the cross, God instituted the office of reconciliation, the word of reconciliation (2 Cor v. 18f.); in other words, the preaching itself also belongs to the event of salvation....in it Christ is encountered, God's own word...is encountered: "So we act for Christ, while God at the same time preaches through our mouth".'[20]  And as Paul reminds us in Rom 1:16-17, it is in the gospel, which is the power of God, working towards salvation, that the righteousness of God is revealed.  Should we be surprised, then, if the apostle whose manner of life – as well as his preaching – is conformed to the gospel, and in whom the power of God is at work, has become 'the righteousness of God'?  This is what it means for Paul 'to live for Christ', not himself, and to be an 'ambassador for Christ', entrusted with 'the message of reconciliation'.  Could this explain why, in this third summary of the gospel, he uses the language he does?

            Nevertheless, it is we who become the righteousness of God, and that righteousness should therefore be revealed in the lives of all believers, not just those of the apostles.  If Christ is the source of righteousness and sanctification' (1 Cor 1:30), then those who, in him, become what he is, should also embody righteousness and sanctification.  Perhaps this explains why Paul goes on, in 6:14–7:1, to urge Christians to live holy lives: righteousness and lawlessness cannot be partners,[21] any more than can Christ and Beliar.  Although this passage is often regarded as an intrusion into 2 Corinthians (in spite of the lack of textual evidence to support this view), it is certainly appropriate for Paul to remind his readers that righteousness is incompatible with idolatry and immorality.[22]  Being the righteousness of God must mean being like him, since he is their God and they are his people (6:16).  Being righteousness implies living righteously. 

            The passage's relevance to the theme of the letter becomes clearer when we recall that Paul has described the Corinthians as his letter of recommendation (3:2): what they are validates both his ministry and his gospel.[23]  If the righteousness of God is revealed in the gospel and in the life of the apostle, it must be revealed also in the faith and lives of those who respond to the gospel – and that means that what they are and do will be the means of witnessing to the gospel.  Paul is not demanding that Christians withdraw from the world – how could he, when he did not do so himself?  What he does insist is that those who are called to be channels of righteousness and light must not compromise with the dubious morality of their neighbours, but cleanse themselves and 'make holiness perfect' ( 2 Cor 7:1; cf. 1 Cor 1:30).  God himself will then live among them, and they will be his temple and his holy people. God’s righteousness will be seen in them.

            Paul's appeal to the Corinthians in chapters 8–9 can also be seen as a logical continuation from the conviction that Christians are agents of righteousness.  This section begins with a reminder that the Macedonians have longed to share in Paul's ministry to the saints (8:14) and have done so by contributing to his collection.  Paul then urges the Corinthians, also, to share in every kind of good work.  Since God's righteousness abides for ever, he will increase the yield of their righteousness (9:8-10): once again, we see the link between God's righteousness and that of Christians – and this righteousness is demonstrated in bringing assistance to those in need.  It is certainly no accident that the key appeal in this section is made on the basis of another of Paul's 'interchange' statements: 'you know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, that – being rich – he became poor for your sake, in order that you, by his poverty, might become rich (8:9).  The Corinthians, too, must in their turn bring riches to others.  By doing so, they will be sharing in Paul's ministry, and God's saving power will work through them.

            In 2 Cor 5:14-21, Paul has given us three summaries of the gospel.  I have suggested that the language he uses is chosen in order to draw out the particular relevance of the gospel for his own ministry.  Nevertheless, the summaries speak of a universal salvation, and the experience Paul describes is shared by others – or should be!  Christ died for all, so that all might live for him,[24] and living for him means offering the message of reconciliation to others and serving as instruments of God's righteousness.  Christ became sin for us, in order that we might become the righteousness of God, and that 'we' can hardly be exclusive!  The new creation embraces all who are in Christ.  Becoming God's righteousness is not just a matter of being acquitted in God's court or of sharing Christ's status before God.  If God's righteousness is a restorative power, bringing life and reconciliation, then those who 'become righteousness' will be the means of manifesting that power in the world.  The 'we' in v. 21b, which has particular significance for Paul's own understanding of discipleship and ministry, becomes an invitation to others to share in the divine activity.  What Christ is to us – righteousness, wisdom, sanctification, redemption – Christians must now be to the world. 

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

              John is the only one to specify that Jesus' mission, measured in real time, that is to say, measured in terms of history and hourglasses, lasted 3 years.  While the Synoptics speak of only one feast of Passover, that during which Jesus made his way to Jerusalem to suffer his passion and death, John mentions three.  "The time of the Jewish Passover was near."  The refrain comes back three times.  We first hear of it at the very beginning of Jesus' mission (2:13), right after the narration of the first of his signs at Cana (2:1-11) and the mention of a short stay in Capernaum (2:12).  Reference to a second Passover comes later, at the beginning of chapter 6, though Jesus this time does not go up to Jerusalem but remains in Galilee (6:14).  Finally at the close of his mission (11:53), mention is made of a third Passover which sets the framework in both John and the Synoptics for Jesus' passion and death.

            However John doesn't stop there.  In certain passages he always presents Jesus' mission in relation to time, but it is then clear that it is not a matter of quantitative time, of chronos.  This is time in its qualitative dimension, that which the Greek term kairos denotes – a term which John occasionally uses  though only rarely in comparison with other New Testament authors.[1]  One might say that John measures Jesus' mission according to a double time scheme, one real, the other symbolic, which in a certain sense are superimposed onto one another.  Spanning three years according to the real scale, the symbolic scale records the mission as lasting the length of a simple day of work.

            This is where the theme of light enters in.  If one follows its step by step development in the Book of Signs, it becomes clear that this motif is used to describe the progressive unfolding from daybreak to sunset of the working day which symbolically evokes Jesus' mission.[2]  John works with a delicate hand in unfolding the progressive phases of Jesus' working day so that the image doesn't jump off the page all at once.  In fact it is only in chapter 9 that things really come into focus.  Before opening the eyes of the man born blind, Jesus declares, "We must work the works of him who sent me, while it is day; night comes, when no one can work." (9:4)  This passage provides the key for deciphering a series of passages which precede or follow and which make mention of light.  A cohesion then emerges between these fragments, discretely aligning them into the seven successive stages of a single day.  It then becomes clear that John is speaking on a spiritual, theological level and is no longer placing events within the realm of history.  Let us briefly examine each of these stages, chapter by chapter.[3]

1)      Day breaks (Jn 1:4-5:9)[4]

⁴ �n aÇtþ zwÑ Ún, ka± Ó zwÑ Ún tè fòv tòn ‡nqrðpwn;

⁵ ka± tè fòv �n tÞ skot°‹ fa°nei, ka± Ó skot°a aÇtè oÇ katlaben.

⁶ HEgneto ˆnqrwpov ‡pestalmnov par� qeoÂ, ínoma aÇtþ HIw€nnjv;

⁷ oÆtov Úlqen e¸v martur°an, ´na marturÐsÛ per± to fwtçv,

´na p€ntev pisteÀswsin di@ aÇtoÂ.

⁸ oÇk Ún �ke²nov tè fòv, ‡ll@ ´na marturÐsÛ per± to fwtçv.

⁹ ¯Jn tè fòv tè ‡ljqinçn, ë fwt°zei p€nta ˆnqrwpon,

            Right from the very first verses of the Prologue, mention is made of light.  "In the beginning" (Jn 1:1):  the Gospel opens in the same way as the Book of Genesis.  And just as with the beginning of the world, we witness the dawn of light.  The first word of the creator God at the outset of the first day of creation had been, "Let there be light." (Gen 1:3)  Now it is the living and creative Word of God itself - the Logos - who comes into the world, bringing light: "In him was life, and the life was the light of human beings." (Jn 1:4)[5]

            This is the light whose apparition is celebrated by the Prologue, "The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it." (1:5)  It suggests the image of daybreak: the darkness of the night must yield to the light of day, just as happens every morning.[6]  In fact, day is not yet mentioned, but only the light which shines in the darkness. As we have earlier seen, it is only later on that the mention of day will accompany that of light (9:4).

            Now this dawning light bears the traits of a person: "He (the Word) was the true light that enlightens every person and he was coming into the world." (1:9)[7]  What then follows expounds the sense in which one is to decipher the image.  "The Word became flesh and pitched his tent among us and we have beheld his glory..." (1:14)  This affirmation applies the image of daybreak to the Incarnation of the Logos while expanding it through the mention of "glory."  The term dçxa has an original sense of meaning the shining forth, or beaming of a luminous source.

2) Reactions to the Breaking of Day (Jn 3:19-21)

¹⁹ aÄtj d �stin Ó kr°siv êti tè fòv �lÐluqen e¸v tèn kçsmon

ka± ×g€pjsan o³ ˆnqrwpoi m‚llon tè skçtov Ù tè fòv;

Ún g�r aÇtòn ponjr� t� žrga.

²⁰ p‚v g�r é faÂla pr€sswn mise² tè fòv ka± oÇk žrcetai prèv tè fòv,

´na mÑ �legcqÞ t� žrga aÇtoÂ;

²¹ é d poiòn tÑn ‡lÐqeian žrcetai prèv tè fòv,

´na fanerwqÞ aÇto t� žrga êti �n qeþ �stin e¸rgasmna.

            In a passage that occurs in the context of the long Christological development (3:13-21) which follows Jesus' dialogue with Nicodemus (3:1-12), renewed mention of the "light" which "has come into the world" (3:19a), followed in the next three verses (19b-21) by an equal number of references to the light, resonates with what was affirmed in the preceding passage (1:9).  The Prologue proclaimed the Word to be the true light (1:9) whose coming into the world enlightens all human beings.  Things were then considered in relation to the Word itself and of its action.  But perspectives have changed and now things are considered not from the point of view of the light and its apparition, but from the angle of its beholders and their reactions.  One might say that this passage describes what ensues after the appearing of light.

            The breaking of day provokes two contrasting reactions.  The first is negative: "The light has come into the world, and people loved darkness rather than light, because their deeds were evil." (3:19). Those who do evil take advantage of night's darkness in order to act without anyone noticing them.  The coming of the light fills them with shame and is source of aggravation:  "For every one who does evil hates the light, and does not come to the light lest his deeds should be exposed." (3:20)  Next follows the opposite, a positive reaction:  "But he who does what is true comes to the light, that it may be clearly seen that his deeds have been wrought in God."  (3:21)  The light of day is perceived as an ally and is gladly received by those who work honestly.  The mention of work or deeds, introduces a new idea with respect to the preceding passage, in specifying what light permits its beholders to accomplish.

            It becomes obvious that this image is being used to evoke Jesus' mission as well as its varied impact.  Indeed chapter 3 fits into a section stretching from 2:1- 4:54 which describes the initial stage of Jesus' ministry as well as the reactions of faith or non-faith that it called forth.[8]

3)      In Retrospect, The Last Hour of the Night (Jn 5:35-36)

            After curing the sick man in Jerusalem (5:1-18), Jesus speaks of John in his discourse (5:19-47).  The Prologue had already spoken of him, declaring that, "He was not the light," but that his role consisted in coming to, "bear witness to the light." (1:8)  Imagery here becomes very precise.  Though he was not the light, John was at least a burning and shining lamp which enlightened the darkness, in this case, during the last hour of the night – i.e. between five and six a.m., the unvarying moment of daybreak in Palestine.  As soon as the Prologue ends, before introducing Jesus on the scene (1:27), the Gospel lengthily records the testimony given by John to those sent by the Jews (1:19-28), announcing to them the imminent manifestation of, "He who comes after me."  In accord with our symbolism, John plays his part just as night is coming to an end, since Jesus' entry onto the scene marks the break of day.  Why is it then said that the Jews – those to whom Jesus addresses himself in this passage (5:16) – rejoiced in the light of the lamp which was John? That anyhow fits with  the joyful imagery of Jn 3:29 where the precursor presents himself as a friend of the bridegroom, filled with joy on hearing the sound of his voice.

            With respect to the preceding passage (3:19-21) which presented day as having already begun, Jn 5:35 carries us back to a time before the break of day and the appearing of the light.  That which immediately follows however, introduces a new element, which will later be taken up again and elaborated: "The testimony which I have is greater than that of John: for the works which the Father has granted me to accomplish, these very works which I am doing, bear me witness that the Father has sent me." (5:36)    Before the coming of day it was John who bore witness to Jesus, but once day has come, Jesus receives testimony from the works which he brings about.  Earlier, Jesus had spoken three times about these works or the work which had been entrusted to him by the Father and which he was to accomplish:

My food is to do the will of him who sent me, and to accomplish his work. (4:34)

My Father is working still, and I am working (5:17)

For the Father loves the Son, and shows him all that he himself is doing; and greater works than these will he show him.  (5:20)

            The Greek word žrgon has the sense of "deed", but can also be used to denote "work" as is illustrated by the second quotation which uses the corresponding verb �rg€zomai.  With Jesus' coming, symbolically indicated by the breaking of day, all of the elements are now in place to express his mission in terms of a day's work.[9]  It will then suffice to say it explicitly only later on.

4) Broad daylight (Jn 8:12)

¹² P€lin oÊn aÇto²v �l€ljsen é HIjsoÂv lgwn,

HEgð e¸mi tè fòv to kçsmou;

é ‡kolouqòn �mo± oÇ mÑ peripatÐsÛ �n tÞ skot°‹,

‡ll@ xei tè fòv tÒv zwÒv.

            John places this proclamation on Jesus' lips in the midst of the long section of controversies reported by chapters 7 and 8.  The phrase has no apparent link either with what precedes[10], nor with that which immediately follows[11].  The theme of light, on the other hand, fits very well within the context of the Feast of Tents which sets the background for Jesus' exchange with the Jews (7:2).  Festivities included the rite of lighting up one of the Temple courtyards each evening.

            Even if it is the first time that Jesus reveals in such a direct way that, "I am the light of the world," it is something which the reader already knows.  An earlier passage mentioning light had proclaimed that the Word was the true light (1:9) and that the light had come into the world (3:19).

            Having drawn attention to himself by presenting himself as the light of the world (8:12a) Jesus then directs it onto those who wish to follow him:  "He who follows me will not walk in darkness but will have the light of life."  (8:12b)  We then find ourselves in broad daylight, the moment when it is possible to move forward and journey thanks to the light.  John invites us to understand, by moving onto another register, that this is the time of Jesus' mission when options are being drawn up for or against him:  either one walks in the light, or else one chooses to remain in the darkness.

            How does one go about following Jesus and by what means does one gain access to the light of life?  An answer is not given by the passage but will be later spelt out.  The issue of following Jesus will come up again in 10:27 in a passage dominated by another symbol.  "My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me."  Clearly such an attitude must consist in believing in Jesus since it is the antithesis of what has just been said in the preceding verse:  "You do not believe, because you do not belong to my sheep."  (10:26)  To follow Jesus means to believe in him.  This will become crystal clear in 12:46, where a new affirmation made by Jesus will enlighten that which he had already stated in this passage, the clauses of each verse running parallel to each other.

            12:46                                                                            8:12

I have come as light into the world                  I am the light of the world

that whoever believes in me                             He who follows me

may not remain in the darkness                                   will not walk in darkness...

This understanding of things will again be confirmed by the Gospel finale.  If indeed, as is said in 8:12, it is in following Jesus that one accedes to life, 20:31 will affirm that it is in believing that one obtains life:  "...that you may believe...and that in believing you may have life."

            Day is advancing, light is at its zenith, the time has come to commit oneself as its follower.

5) Day begins to decline (Jn 9:4-5)

⁴ Óm‚v de² �rg€zesqai t� žrga to pmyantçv me wv Ómra �st°n;

žrcetai nÁx ête oÇde±v dÀnatai �rg€zesqai.

⁵ êtan �n tþ kçsmû ú, fòv e¸mi to kçsmou.

            We have now arrived at the affirmation contained in chapter 9, identified at the outset as providing the key to understanding the whole of those passages relating to light.  This is the point at which the symbolism of a day of work is connected for the first time to that of the light and explicitly applied to Jesus' mission.

            The Gospel sees no tension in the intertwining of the images: on the one hand, Jesus is the light – as has been affirmed in an earlier passage, in 8:12; and on the other hand, as we already know from chapter 5, he himself takes advantage of the light in order to work at the accomplishment of the work or mission which he has received from the Father.  It is striking however, that Jesus does not simply say, "I must work the works of him who sent me while it is day," but, "We must work the works of him who sent me."  Who does this "we" include?  Certainly it designates Jesus himself who works at accomplishing the Father's work, but doubtless it also designates his disciples who follow in his steps and for whom working for God means believing.  Already in chapter 6, to the Jews who asked, "What must we do, to be doing the works of God?"  Jesus had answered, "This is the work of God, that you believe in him whom he sent."  (6:28-29)

            Thus on the one hand, this passage recapitulates a number of elements contained in earlier passages which referred to the light:

·         Jesus is the light come into the world: already affirmed in 1:9, 3:19 and 8:12

·         Jesus has an undertaking, a work or works to accomplish: already in 5:36

·         The beneficiaries of the light must also set themselves to work: already in 3:20

These elements are integrated and woven together in Jn 9:4-5 by means of the image of the day of work which is slowly drawing to a close with the approach of night.

6) The approach of night (Jn 11:9-10)

⁹ ‡pekr°qj HIjsoÂv, OÇc± dðdeka öra° e¸sin tÒv Ómrav?

�€n tiv peripatÞ �n tÞ Ómr‹, oÇ proskçptei,

êti tè fòv to kçsmou toÀtou blpei;

¹⁰ ��n d tiv peripatÞ �n tÞ nukt°, proskçptei,

 êti tè fòv oÇk žstin �n aÇtþ.

      The evangelist places this declaration on Jesus' lips at the moment when he takes the road to Bethany where he will raise Lazarus to life.  The phrase itself seems to be loosely connected to the immediate context.  However when one takes into account the sequence of affirmations pertaining to the light which, step by step, appear throughout the first part of the Gospel, the logic becomes apparent.

      In 9:4, Jesus had announced that night was near.  The allusion to it is now taken up again and elaborated, but from a different angle.  In 9:4 night was primarily considered from the point of view of Jesus' own mission, as being that moment when he would no longer be able to go on working.  Here, night is primarily related to what the disciples will experience since they will no longer be able to walk in Jesus' steps.  Both for Jesus himself and for those who are witnesses to his mission time is drawing short, day is coming to an end.  Indeed the sign which now follows will be Jesus' last.

      Day appears here, as it did in chapter 8, as being that moment when the light, which is Jesus himself, shines, empowering the disciples to walk.

7) Day is done  (Jn 12:35-36)

³⁵ eºpen oÊn aÇto²v é HIjsoÂv,

­Eti mikrèn crçnon tè fòv �n Ãm²n �stin.

peripate²te óv tè fòv žcete, ´na mÑ skot°a Ãm‚v katal€bÛ;

ka± é peripatòn �n tÞ skot°‹ oÇk oºden po Ãp€gei.

³⁶ óv tè fòv žcete, pisteÀete e¸v tè fòv,

´na u³o± fwtèv gnjsqe.

TaÂta �l€ljsen HIjsoÂv, ka± ‡pelqñn �krÀbj ‡p@ aÇtòn. (...)

⁴⁶ �gñ fòv e¸v tèn kçsmon �lÐluqa,

´na p‚v é pisteÀwn e¸v �m �n tÞ skot°‹ mÑ me°nÛ.

      This final passage contains the largest concentration of the symbolism of light.  The theme is repeated no less than six times, five times in verses 35-36 and once in verse 46.

      Verse 35 reiterates what had already been affirmed by 11:9.  Day is drawing to a close, and there is a pressing invitation to walk so long as there is still time.  What then does it mean to walk while one has the light?  Verse 36 clarifies the meaning of the image:  "While you have the light, believe in the light that you may become sons of light."  A parallel structure is clearly embedded into the two verses:

      12:35                                                                                        12:36

Walk                                                                                  While you have the light

while you have the light                                                     believe in the light.

      The idea is finally repeated in vs. 46 which adds the final link:  "I have come as light into the world, that whoever believes in me may not remain in darkness."

      These two last passages where the theme of the light makes its appearance allow us to gain an even clearer insight into the manner with which John proceeds.  On the one hand, these two passages again take up elements expressed by preceding passages:

·         12:46 Jesus is the light: earlier affirmed in Jn 1:9, 8:12, 9:5;

·         12:35a Day is drawing to its close: already in Jn 9:4 and 11:10;

·         12:35b So long as they still have the light, the disciples are to follow, to walk : already in Jn 8:12 and 11:9-10;

·         12:35c Night makes walking impossible: already in 11:10.

But they are not simply a final recapitulation of what has been earlier affirmed.  They make two further developments.  On the one hand, they make plain the meaning of the symbol by specifying that for the disciples, walking in the light means believing in Jesus.  And secondly, 12:46 indicates that henceforth, day is over.  Jesus speaks of his mission in the past tense.  "I have come as light into the world."  The verb (�lÐluqa) is set in the perfect tense, indicating something which is indeed past.  Jesus' public mission has now come to an end, and one stage is over.  The perfect tense however is used to indicate a past action whose effects or consequences continue in the present.  Jesus' mission may indeed be over, but time has not yet run out for believing in him, and thus avoiding the night.

THE Day of Revelation,

Source of the Symbol's Coherence

      Having thus carefully, step by step, retraced the gradual unfolding of the image of the light, a consistent line of thinking begins to appear which is entwined in the first twelve chapters of John.  It contains a comparison of Jesus' mission to a day of work whose gradual unfolding is described while also slowly bringing into focus its purpose.  Jesus' work aims to invite each person to faith, since faith is the means by which they gain access to life.  Jesus is the light and one follows him by believing in him; in believing in him, one receives life.

      If a day of work, coextensive with the duration of light, symbolizes the time of Jesus' mission, what exactly does light itself represent?  In what sense can it be said that Jesus is the light?  And exactly how does he shed light on others' peregrination?  Which aspect of his mission is underlined by light?

      Two passages are specially "enlightening" on these questions.  These are the first and the last of the passages examined, that is to say, the beginning of chapter one and the end of chapter 12.  The symbolism of light manifested itself for the first time at the heart of the prologue, which acclaimed the Christ as Word who graces humankind with the gift of truth (1:17), in other words, with revelation.  At the other end, in chapter 12, the image of the light (v 46) is contained within a section (12:37-50) dominated by revelation language.[12]

      "I have glorified you on earth," says Jesus to his Father just before dying, "having accomplished the work which you gave me to do."  (17:4)  In what did this work consist?  Its essence is more or less defined by the thrust of the following section.

I have manifested your name to those whom you gave me out of the world; they were yours and you gave them to me, and they have kept your word.  Now they know that everything that you have given me is from you; for I have given them the words which you gave to me and they have received them and know in truth that I came from you; and they have believed that you did send me. (17:6-8)

The Culminating Point: Day Gives Way to the Hour

      Let us return for a moment to Jesus' declaration in Jn 12:35, "The light is with you for a little longer."  He affirms this in response to a question from the crowd, "How can you say that the Son of Man must be lifted up?"  (12:34)  And the question itself echoes, in slightly different words, the declaration which Jesus has earlier made in 12:23 that, "The hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified."  Day, the time when the light shines, comes to its close at the moment when the hour comes.  Day will therefore end in the hour of Jesus' glorification.  Put in other words, Jesus' mission will end and night will come for the world since the light will have disappeared, but for Jesus this will be the hour of glorification.  Jesus passes, so to speak, from the light to the light.

      The themes of the light and of a day of work thus finally converge around the theme of Jesus' hour.  Just as with the light, the first twelve chapters of the Gospel are stamped by this major Johannine theme with the refrain that, "His hour had not yet come,"[13] being repeatedly heard.  The meaning of the hour is unveiled only very slowly until its arrival in 13:1.  Only then is the hour identified as being the moment of Jesus' death and resurrection.

Now before the feast of the Passover, when Jesus knew that his hour had come to depart -by his death- out of this world to the Father - by his resurrection - having loved his own who were in the world, he loved them to the end.

      One then understands that Jesus' day of work is not, anymore than his hour, meant to be taken in a physical or chronological sense, as might be the case for references here and there to the third (19:14), seventh (4:52) or the tenth (1:39) hour.  Manifestly his hour, just like his day of work are not to be understood in reference to clocks, but in reference to God's designs.

      Few Biblical scholars question the existence of a bipartite structure to the fourth Gospel.  The "Book of Signs" comprises chapters 1-12, which tell of Jesus' public mission - though from a Johannine perspective it would seem more accurate to speak of Jesus' work - and closes on an assessment (12:37-50) of certain reactions to the mission.  "Though he had done so many signs before them, yet they did not believe in him..." (12:37).  Under the influence of some of the great scholars who have studied the fourth Gospel, chapters 13-20 have been variously designated: "The Book of the Passion,"[14] "The Book of Glory"[15] or "The Book of the Hour."  This last title is probably to be preferred, given the affirmation contained in 13:1 which was earlier quoted, and which marks the opening: "Jesus knew that his hour had come..."

      Bearing in mind those elements which we have encountered throughout this study of the time symbolism contained in John, one could just as easily speak of a "Book of the Day" (chapters 1-12), followed by a "Book of the Hour"  (chs.13-20).[16]

Michel GOURGUES, O.P.

Dominican University College, Ottawa.

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