It is my intention to discuss one question only, and not all the problems which are connected with the group of documents published as ‘The Adler Papyri’ by Mr. E. N. Adler together with his collaborators, the late Professor F. Ll. Griffith, Dr. F. M. Heichelheim and Mr. J. G. Tait in 1939. This question is: Are there any traces of Jewish religious influence to be found in the Adler Archive, as has been suggested by the editors?

Buddhist literature is not complete in any one language. The primary sources for the study of Buddhism consist of texts in Pali, in Sanskrit (with some fragments in Prakrit, and a few texts in a mixed dialect — as though composed by men who were trying to turn Prakrit into Sanskrit but who had a very imperfect knowledge of Sanskrit grammar), in Chinese, in Tibetan, and in several of the languages which were current in Chinese Turkestan. There are also texts in Mongolian, but these seem to be derivatives from Tibetan, and not of primary importance.

The excavations of Thasos conducted with patience and skill by the École Françhise d'Athènes since 1911 brought to light many important documents enriching largely our knowledge of the political, economic and religious history of this island. Many interesting papers and books have been published on different subjects dealing with ancient Thasos; others are in preparation. It is a real pleasure for the historian of Greek religion to find in these publications numerous documents of a religious character. They are of course fragmentary and difficult to interpret, but nevertheless extremely important. And one must be grateful to the editors for their laborious efforts to present them to us in a comprehensible form.

It is a well-known fact that, sometime between the 4th and 7th centuries, a recension of the NT, or at least of the Pauline and Catholic epistles, into thought-lines was made. This recension is attributed variously to Euthalius, to Evagrius, even to Pamphilius. In spite of the fact that its authorship is unclear, this recension into thought-lines, along with certain other matter which is normally found with it, is traditionally called “Euthalian matter” or “Euthalian apparatus.” There are two important problems concerning Euthalian matter which are at present unsolved: (1) the date of Euthalius (or of the author of the recension, whom I shall henceforth call Euthalius for convenience sake); (2) which parts of the Euthalian matter are to be ascribed to the original author?

The publication of any work from Qumran is a great event for anyone who is interested in the DSS; far more is this the case when the work is a long and important one. Shirot Olat HaShabbath (ShirShabb) is such a long and important work, being preserved in no less than eight MSS from Qumran cave 4, one MS from Qumran cave 11, and one MS from Masada. Before the discoveries in the Judaean Desert this work was completely unknown.

More than once the doctrine of the Spirit (Pneumatology) has been called the Cinderella of Theology. If this was so in the past, and is perhaps still, it now requires our full attention. At the risk of viewing the situation through ‘continental’ eyes, but hoping you will recognize this, I would say that the nineteenth century, impressed by the advance of science, confronted theology in the first place with problems raised by natural science. Its first question concerned the nature of God, especially in connection with creation. Scientific historical inquiry paid attention to the Bible, and in the New Testament focussed its interest upon the question of the historical Jesus. This work culminated and came to a temporary halt in Albert Schweitzer's, The Quest of the Historical Jesus. A revival of Systematic Theology and Dogmatics followed, and in the opinion of the dogmatists the connecting lines between theology viewed from a cosmic standpoint and the Gospel were too long. The same thing was seen happening in the historical study of religions which came to cover an ever-widening field. On flle other hand, however, they could not be satisfied with a ‘life of Jesus,’ so that Christology began to occupy a central place which it has held during the last few decades. And, if Pneumatology received any attention at all, its allotted place was small.

At the time of his death in October 1958, Pope Pius XII was remembered as a great and good man who had worked tirelessly for peace throughout his -nineteen-year pontificate. World leaders paid him fulsome tributes, and -accounts of his life and the details of his funeral were posted on the front pages of many of the world's leading newspapers and seen by hundreds of thousands on newsreels and television. Within the Catholic Church, Pius was the last of the great monarchical popes, a man who had lived his entire life within the framework of Vatican diplomacy, as an ambassador for two popes, secretary of state for one pope, and a detail-observant manager for close to two decades as pope himself. He was praised also for his support of new movements in the life of the church, notably a modern approach to the study of Scripture and the beginnings of significant reforms to the liturgy. There was, too, some relief that the stultification of the last years of the pope's life and fears of a new anti-Modernist campaign were over. The outpouring of grief at his passing was genuine, but there was a palpable sense that something had changed; an era was closing.

In the Greek ritual of animal sacrifice a rather unusual use was reserved for the tongue of the victim. While most of the animal was either burned in offering to the deity or enjoyed as a feast by the participants, the tongue was cut out and laid aside. Why the tongue was treated differently from the rest of the victim and what exactly was done with it are the questions which I propose to deal with in this paper. These problems have been dealwith before, but the evidence has never been fully consideredand all previous discussions have been inconclusive.

A small scrap of papyrus from Antinoopolis has been edited and commented on by C. H. Roberts and treated in a very learned paper by A. Delatte. I print the text with a few remarks due to these scholars.

Among the 734 inscriptions included in the first volume of Frey's Corpus Inscriptionum Iudaicarum there are twenty-one (CII 535–551e) which are listed as from the Jewish community of Porto, the ancient Portus Traiani. There have been so many misstatements and differences of opinion among scholars with reference to the Jews of Porto that a fresh study of the data is appropriate.

Due in part to the prominence of the word ⋯γαπάω in the New Testament, readers of that book have often believed that the early Christians as a group considered ⋯γαπάω to refer to a superior form of love than that represented by the Greek word φιλέω. One of the primary reasons for this conviction is the way in which the apostle Paul uses ⋯γάπη and ⋯γαπάω to such an extent in his epistles. In fact, Paul's usage of the ⋯γαπάω word family is so consistent that with one exception the word φιλέω is entirely absent from his vocabulary. Likewise, in the Septuagint the occurrences of ⋯γαπάω outnumber those of φιλέω by a ratio of 266 to a mere fifteen.1

Since his 1972 study of the wisdom literature of the Hebrew scriptures, provocatively entitled In Man We Trust, Walter Brueggemann has challenged the settled verities of Christian communities of faith and the orthodoxies of biblical scholarship. In over two dozen books and numerous popular and academic articles on the texts and themes of the Hebrew scriptures, Brueggemann has explored and articulated his growing thesis that the Bible is a powerful, critical, and energizing resource for human and social transformation in our times. Concentrating on the prophetic corpus since his programmatic 1978 book, The Prophetic Imagination, as well as giving significant attention to the historical books and the psalter, Brueggemann himself has become an important prophetic voice, calling the contemporary church to fidelity to Yahweh's uncompromising claims as these are articulated in the Mosaic, covenantal, and prophetic traditions of the Hebrew scriptures.

In the place where penitents stand even the wholly righteous cannot stand.(R. Abahu)1

I prefer a man who hath sinned and done wickedly and repented to the man who hath not sinned and hath not manifested repentance; for the former possesseth a humble mind and the latter esteemeth himself in his thoughts a just man. (Abba Poemen)2

There has been much talk in religious circles about the condition of theology. It is frequently charged that its language is no longer viable; and thus, if for no other reason, the theologian must seek a more contemporary idiom. Furthermore, with the need expressed over and over again for new translations of everything old, we seem to reinforce our claim that all of theology must be continually re-translated too. But words are one thing and concepts perhaps another. With the great enthusiasm today for a certain kind of linguistic study on the part of students of the Bible and with what looks like a strong growing interest in linguistic philosophy, there are bound to be a few confusions generated. These notes are intended to head them off.

Julius Wellhausen proposed a “sharp break” between ancient Israelite religion and early Judaism: for him, the eighth-century prophets were the “spiritual destroyers of old Israel” and the forerunners of early Judaism. The biblical theologian Brevard Childs rejected Wellhausen’s reconstruction and insisted instead that “very strong theological continuity” characterized the development of Israelite religion from its outset. Numerous contemporary theological interpreters share Childs’s perspective. However, a “Wellhausen renaissance” is currently underway in the study of Israelite religion and early Judaism. This situation poses an unresolved challenge for theological interpretation, at least of the kind that Childs advocated. The present article addresses this dilemma. It first inventories Childs’s reasons for opposing Wellhausen’s sharp break, which emerge from Childs’s vision for scriptural “theo- referentiality.” Secondly, it tests whether Childs’s theological insights, the very same that led to his repudiation of Wellhausen, might accommodate Wellhausen’s historical claim. The final result is to set Wellhausen and Childs, historical reconstruction and theological interpretation, in a noncompetitive relationship.

The object of this short note is to check the date of the ‘Historia Augusta,’ which is usually determined from a number of very special allusions, by its attitude towards a matter of universal interest — religion.

I thank Margaret M. Mitchell for her thoughtful criticisms of my article on the interpretation of Paul's Epistle to Philemon. She has pointed out certain limitations of my arguments, both on the culpability of John Chrysostom as the earliest disseminator of the familiar interpretation that Onesimus is a slave and runaway, against which I have inveighed, and also in other areas where, in her parlance, my constructive arguments seem vulnerable. I am gratified that my admittedly unconventional reading has been engaged seriously and thoughtfully by a colleague well versed in both the Pauline corpus and patristic exegesis.

Contemporary New Testament scholarship gives evidence of two trends. Some scholars, particularly those interested in the historical Jesus or the source of collected logia (Q) are going backward, trying to reach Christian origins and still influenced by the romantic dream of the pure beginning. Others are pressing forward, tracing the development of early Christian traditions, both in the canonical and non-canonical texts (particularly the Nag Hammadi Codices) in an attempt to follow the several streams of Christianity. These scholars continue to be influenced by the philosophical construction of organic evolution.