1.1 WHAT WE (SHOULD HAVE) LEARNED FROM THE NEW PERSPECTIVE
To speak of the new perspective on Paul is at its most basic to take account of two fundamental moves in recent biblical scholarship (if a half century can be considered ârecentâ). The first is a thoroughgoing reappraisal of the Judaism broadly contemporary with Jesus and his earliest followers, especially with respect to its implicit soteriology. The second is a more diverse set of reappraisals of Paul, albeit with certain family resemblances, in light ofâperhaps, required byâthe reappraisal of Judaism. These two âmovesâ can be differentiated and even theoretically separated, but in fact they form a compelling partnership in Pauline scholarship that would gain the label of convenience, ânew perspective.â In principle, earlier standard readings of Paul remain sustainable, though not without certain difficulties, even granting the new perspective on Judaism.2 And for that matter, there is enough grist in the Pauline mill to drive fundamental reappraisals of Paulâs motives and theology even apart from the new perspective on Judaism.3 But it was the powerful synergy of the two perspectives in concert that fomented a revolution in Pauline studies, and it is for that reason that E. P. Sandersâs opening gambit would prove so influential, combining in one place a devastating reappraisal of Judaism with a plausible, albeit less persuasive, account of Paul, the latter necessitated by the former.4
In what follows, I trace four themes that characterize the revision of Pauline biography and theology accomplished by the NPP. It is temptingâand it would be a fair bit easierâto move figure by figure and describe the work and unique contribution of each scholar. However, not only has this already been done quite adequately by others,5 but my particular interest is less to divide and conquer and more to synthesize what is shared among the architects of the paradigm, noting of course that one or another is more responsible for this or that emphasis. I am at this point, however, specifically resisting an extensive engagement with the idiosyncrasies of a particular scholar. It goes without saying that, while sharing a broad set of convictions and tendencies, there will be countless matters of difference. But for our purposes it will prove more useful to note where the contributions of, for example, Krister Stendahl, E. P. Sanders, James Dunn and N. T. Wright, among others, stand in a continuity, with the cumulative building each upon the work of the other, sometimes by appropriation, sometimes by correction. Finally, what follows is first not only a description but also an affirmation of what I regard as fundamentally correct claims. I am arguing that each of these themes marks a genuine advance in our understanding of Paul, and I am commending these insights as ground gained from which there should be no retreat. I also take it as a given that such breakthroughs born of correcting zeal are frequently also attended by excess and hyperbole and that qualifications and refinements are often necessary and usually follow. But before we turn to a critique of the new perspective, we consider its several groundbreaking insights.
1.1.1 Reconsidering Paulâs conversion. The conversion of the apostle Paul is arguably the most consequential historical event in the formative era of Christian history,6 but its interpretation is a matter of dispute and even of theological consequenceâboth what happened and what it means.7 In fact, that it should be thought of as a âconversionâ at all is now frequently disputed, never mind the churchâs ancient tradition of doing so.8 In New Testament studies, that reevaluation of Paulâs conversion was popularized especially in the 1963â1964 lectures of Krister Stendahl, who argued, plausibly enough, that it was a category mistake to regard the Christophany on the road to Damascus and its aftermath as a religious conversion.9
In the first place, neither Paulâs allusions to (1 Cor 15:8; Gal 1:15-17) nor the Acts narrations of the event (Acts 9, 22, 26) describe it in terms of âconversion,â âturning,â ârepentanceâ or even with respect to âsalvationâ or cognates. Rather, these texts repeatedly emphasize that Paul is being commissioned by the risen Lord to a Gentile mission: â . . . when he who had set me apart before I was born, and who called me by his grace, was pleased to reveal his Son to me, in order that I might preach him among the Gentilesâ (Gal 1:15-16 ESV; cf. Acts 9:15; 13:47; 22:15, 21; 26:19-20). Here, âcalledâ does not carry any particular soteriological overtones, as it well might in Pauline usage,10 nor does âgraceâ; but instead âcalled by his graceâ refers to Paulâs vocation, the purpose of which (hina) was to âpreach [Christ] among the Gentiles.â As is often noted, there can be little doubt in this passage of at least two allusions to the prophetic corpus: (1) the language of being set apart before birth (lit. âfrom the womb of my motherâ) is reminiscent of other prophetic call accounts (Is 49:1; Jer 1:5); and (2) preaching among the Gentiles is arguably an allusion to and participation in the servantâs vocation to be âa light to the Gentilesâ (Is 42:6; 49:6; 51:4; cf. 60:3). Likewise, Paulâs other reference to his encounter with the resurrected Christ in 1 Corinthians 15:8 refers specifically to his apostolic calling, as âone untimely born.â All of this is confirmed in a variety of Acts narrations, featuring in certain cases a commentary to the effect that the risen Christ had appointed Paul to preach to the Gentiles (Acts 9:15; 22:21; 26:16-18; cf. 13:47; 15:7).
But Stendahl and his followers are interested in more than simply aligning conceptions of the Damascus Road event with biblical language in a more disciplined way; the very language of âconversionâ has misdirected subsequent Christian reflection, causing Paul to be read in artificial ways. It hardly needs saying that the observant Jew did not convert from irreligion to religious devotion, nor that his âconversionâ could have been from one religion to another, given that a decisive separation of the Jesus movement from mainstream Judaism would be still decades in the future. But there is yet a more important reason for disclaiming Paulâs conversion as such: we lack evidence in the New Testament that Paul underwent anything like a crisis in which anxiety of conscience and soteriological uncertainty were satiated by a sense of gracious divine acceptance.11 As we will note below with respect to Philippians 3:2-6, the available evidence contradicts the picture of Paul as guilt-ridden and despairing of his ability to find Godâs approval. If Sandersâs account of Judaism (on which, again, see below) is even remotely accurate, we should not have expected Paulâs self-consciousness to match that of subsequent Christian conversion paradigms in which personal anxiety is frequently prerequisite for personal redemption. And when the autobiographical portions of Galatians (1:13-16) and Philippians (3:2-11) are given their due, we find that, far from anxiety, Paul exhibits what Stendahl called a ârobust conscience,â confident in his covenantal status.12 Even were we to regard Paulâs former absence of anxiety as a contemptible hubris, we are left still only with a culpable rather than a guilt-ridden Paul. This is especially so if, with a growing majority of scholars, we take Romans 7:7-25 as other than autobiographical of his pre-Christian struggle with the law.13
Thus, quite some time before the âSanders revolutionâ with respect to Judaism, we already have a quiet undoing of certain implicit tenets of a Pauline model in which law provokes guilt and anxiety only to find relief in a gospel free of works. That this was not Paulâs
experience must now be
regarded as beyond serious dispute. But this does not mean that this could not be Paulâs
gospel, an assumption that seems mistakenly to trail the reconfiguration of Paulâs conversion as if by necessity.
14 It does mean, however, that the burden of proof has shifted decidedly to the law
guilt
relief model. And it should be obviousânow at least in retrospectâthat the revision of Paulâs conversion experience would serve as a harbinger in miniature of the considerably more ambitious reappraisal of Second Temple Judaism, especially with regard to its âsoteriology,â to which we now turn.
1.1.2 Reappraising the âsoteriologyâ of Judaism. By any account, E. P. Sandersâs paradigm-shattering work on âPalestinian Judaismâ must be regarded as among the most influential works of New Testament scholarship in the second half of the twentieth century, influencing not only Pauline research but the whole of New Testament studies.15 The argument, anticipated by others but mainstreamed by Sanders, has now been so often recounted that a rehearsal of the highlights must suffice for our purposes.
Sanders begins with a sobering account of modern, mostly German Protestant, scholarship on Judaism that served generations of biblical scholars as the context for interpreting the New Testament. But, as Sanders sees it, this reconstructed background was in fact merely a foil, for it was obvious to these scholars that Jesus and early Christianity represent a decisive contrast, indeed a break, with contemporary Judaism. If Paul articulates a defect in his former religion (and that would be the right way to put it), it could be assumed that the defect existed, even if it would take the light of the Christian gospel to expose it. But once so exposed, it would not be hard to mine the literary detritus of Second Temple and especially rabbinic Judaism and so believe that one had discovered the failed Judaism of Paulâs ...