John DelHousaye

Paul dispatched Romans between the years 57 and 58, which, in retrospect, can be considered the apex of his ministry. The apostle distills themes in his earlier letters into one majestic argument:
* Justification (being righted) by faith, not works of the Law (Rom 1-4 = Gal 3-5)
* Fatherhood of Abraham (Rom 4 = Gal 3)
* Adam and the “last Adam” (Rom 5:12-19 = 1 Cor 15:21-22, 45-49)
* Church as Christ’s body of diverse elements (Rom 12:4-8 = 1 Cor 12)
* Constrained Freedom (Rom 14—15 = 1 Cor 8—10).

Paul revisits some arguments he made in Galatians, but with nuance after the compromise at the Jerusalem Council. Romans is not a crisis letter.

Paul informs his readers he finished the mission in the east (15:19-23) and plans to visit Rome after returning to Jerusalem (vv. 24-32). He composed Romans during a three month stay at Corinth (Acts 20:2-3), where Gaius served as host (16:23 = 1 Cor 1:14).  He gave the letter to Phoebe, possibly a deacon of the church at Cenchreae, a port city of Corinth (16:1), and they went in two different directions: Paul, to Jerusalem, Phoebe, Rome. We learn from Acts that he is arrested in the city, but, after a harrowing journey, comes to the imperial city in chains (chs. 21-28).

The church placed Romans at the beginning of Paul’s letters for its length, but perhaps also as a fitting summation of his gospel. Augustine and Calvin, among others, rightly use the argument for “systematic” presentations of the faith.

The Fathers developed a fourfold hermeneutic, based on the Fourfold Gospel, called quadriga (“chariot drawn by four horses”). The approach began in the East and came to the West.  Appropriating the dualistic schema of human nature, the Bible may be read physically and spiritually. The body of Scripture is its literal (or historical) sense. The inner or spiritual dimension may be divided into three other senses: the typological, moral, and anagogical. We shall explain these senses, but here we may ponder this intriguing metaphor: reading the Gospels should take us somewhere. Elijah was taken up to heaven on a cloud chariot. The early church saw a call to evangelism.

The Rabbis were also developing a fourfold hermeneutic to the Old Testament, given the acronym pardes (“paradise”) in Hebrew. They have God declare: "Is not my word like a hammer that breaks the rock in pieces? [Jer 23:29]. As the hammer causes numerous sparks to flash forth, so is a verse of Scripture capable of many interpretations" (b. San. 34a). The key is “my word.” If God’s the ultimate author of Scripture—what Jews and Christians have always believed until recently—then its meaning cannot be contained in jars like “the original intent of the human author.” God’s Word means what God intends.
The Fathers and Rabbis appear to have influenced each other. Both presumed the inerrancy of Scripture.  We find a lot in common with their approaches but also some differences. I have chosen to synthesize their work as homage to our common heritage, with the hope of fostering dialogue between our faiths. I also integrate some of the gains of modern biblical scholarship.

This paper argues--with others, like Mark Matson and Barbara Shellard--that Luke appropriates John's Gospel as a source. I focus on John's unique presentation of the Baptist--how Luke appropriates his synkrisis, arrangement, and themes.

... That this was far from the consensus amongst New Testament scholars is demonstrated by B.'s survey of scholarly opinion in his first and fourth chapters. B. has surely now laid to rest, with his excellent and clearly written study, any remaining doubts. ...

I remember as a child taking in a mosaic and discovering, to my fascination, that many of the shards came from the same plate. The colors and lines of the plate, now broken apart and cemented at different angles, still contributed to the new form of art. Many of us get the same impression from Paul’s letters. We see behind his occasional writings a unified vision of God’s salvation in Jesus Christ—an icon of the crucified yet resurrected Lord. But this way of seeing comes to us in fragments, albeit as parts of letters with their own coherent structure and beauty.
What follows is my attempt to correlate three shards of this vision—justification, faith, and new creation—with the “mystery” of being in Christ.

Jesus ministered in what may be called a “low-contact” culture, but makes a point of touching people as a part of their healing (salvation). After reviewing the therapeutic role of touch in Jesus Christ’s social world, the gospels, James, and Francis of Assisi’s ministry, I will offer a rudimentary model for pastoral ministry.

The New Testament and early fathers occasionally have Jesus say something that is not recorded in the canonical gospels. These additional sayings came to be called agrapha (sg. agraphon “not written down”).  The term is somewhat ambiguous because they were ultimately recorded, just not in the gospels. (Traditionally, it is only applied to sayings, not anecdotes, longer stories, or discourses, but I have allowed some flexibility for the sake of presentation.) We also find agrapha in less authoritative Christian literature, heretical writings, and even Muslim literature.

The following is fresh translation and commentary on an especially controversial passage in the evangelical community. I suggest, among other things, that Paul is not speaking to men and women in general, but husbands and wives. The apostle also links public worship with husband/wife relationship in Ephesians (5:20-22) and 1 Corinthians (14:32-33). He views marriage as a type of the relationship between Christ, the mediator between God and human beings, and the church. Christian marriage, then, is intended to show forth a divine yet presently invisible reality. The typology commits Paul to headship in marriage in which the husband imitates Christ and the wife, the church. The husband manifests Christ by taking on the role of priest in the home, offering up prayers privately but also in the assembly. (In Judaism the husband would traditionally offer the prayers before meals in the home.) This is a form of leadership, but not a coercive one. The wife submits to (permits) the husband to take on this role for his family. If the husband is an overseer (elder), the wife—as well as the entire assembly—submits to his role as teacher (preacher) as well. In this context, it would be inappropriate for the wife to interrupt or correct her husband. In Greco-Roman culture, in contrast to the synagogue, “learning” would take place in symposia, festive meals, by asking one another questions. Paul presumes this form of instruction was taking place in the Corinthian churches (1 Cor 14). Women were normally excluded, but not in the church. Yet Paul wants to establish a good reputation in the community where the shaming of a husband was taboo.

This commentary applies Augustine's totus Christus approach to psalms that are cited or alluded to by Jesus in the Gospels, with an Antiochene sensitivity to the "David Story." In other words, the Psalter is read three ways: as the words of David (or those associated with him), as the words of Jesus Christ, the Head, and as the words of his Body, the Church.

There is a peculiar juxtaposition between New Testament books that focus on the historical ministry of Jesus Christ and their appropriation of Ancient Israelite Scripture. In the gospels and Hebrews, biblical citations are heard through the Holy Spirit as " throne " conversations between the Father and the Son. These readings are invited by the ambiguity in Psalm 110, when the Lord speaks to the Lord, and they invite the orthodox insistence that Jesus is uniquely the God-man. This paper will review two instances in Mark (1:2-3; 12:35-37) and one in Hebrews (10:5-10), and then summarize their contribution to a tensive Christology that probably began with the historical Jesus.

This paper, a guide for Christians wanting to bring their fear and anxiety to their Lord, was read at the 2016 National Evangelical Theological Society Meeting in San Antonio, Texas, on November 16. I want to thank the moderator, Pastor Ken Tang-Quan, and my colleague Justin Smith, a psychologist, for their comments. The author, of course, is responsible for the contents.