Biblical Exegesis in the Apostolic Period

By Richard N. Longenecker

The discovery of the Dead Sea Scrolls, the Nag Hammadi texts, and new Targums has greatly increased scholarly interest in the relationship between the New Testament and first -century Judaism. This critically acclaimed study by Richard Longenecker sheds light on this relationship by exploring the methods the earliest Christians used to interpret the Old Testament. By comparing the first Christian writings with Jewish documents from the same period, Longenecker helps to discern both the key differences between Christianity and Judaism and the Judaic roots of the Christian faith.

This revised edition of Biblical Exegesis in the Apostolic Period brings Longenecker's valued work up to date with current research in this important field of study.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Eerdmans
• Release date: Mar 30, 1999
• ISBN: 9781467428798

Richard N. Longenecker

Richard N. Longenecker is Ramsey Armitage Professor of New Testament, Wycliffe College, University of Toronto. He receivec the B.A. and M.A. degrees from Wheaton College and Wheaton Graduate School of Theology, respectively, and the Ph.D. from New College, University of Edinburgh. His principal publications include Paul, Apostle of Liberty (1964), The Christology of Early Jewish Christianity (1970), The Ministry and Message of Paul (1971), Biblical Exegesis in the Apostolic Period (1975), “The Acts of the Apostles” in The Expositor’s Bible Commentary (1981), and The New Testament Social Ethics for Today (1984).

Book preview

Preface to the Second Edition

Much has occurred in the study of the New Testament’s use of the Old since this small, introductory volume was first published in 1975. As a somewhat mechanical indicator of the burgeoning interest and rapidly increasing scholarly production in this field of study is the fact that of the approximately 530 entries in our present Selected Bibliography more than a third of them (some 186 by actual count) have been published since 1975, with many significant studies included in that number.

It is impossible to rewrite Biblical Exegesis in the Apostolic Period so as to take into account all that has been written on the subject during the past quarter century. That would require a different format and multiple volumes. All that the first edition of our book was meant to do was to set out the discussion in an understandable fashion, highlight the crucial issues, propose a particular methodological approach, and suggest some working hypotheses. And this second edition seeks to retain the introductory nature of that first edition, keeping as much as possible to its original purposes, structure, argument, and size. What, therefore, has been done by way of revision in this second edition is (1) to make a few corrections of content in the text, (2) to add some references in the footnotes to alert readers to some of the more recent significant developments, (3) to expand the bibliography so as to bring it up to date, (4) to provide a preface that interacts with particular issues of importance and that places the discussion in its modern context, and (5) to revise some matters of style and wording in order to conform to more recent practice.

I am immensely appreciative of the many comments that have been received regarding the first edition of the book—whether set out in the initial reviews, passed on by letter or personal conversation, made by way of interaction in various journal articles, or structured more formally in monographs and commentaries. Many of the comments have been commendatory; some, of course, critical. But almost all were thoughtful and helpful. And even when profound differences were expressed, the stating of those differences has served to highlight the nature of the issues involved.

Amid numerous matters that could be discussed in a preface such as this, nine issues seem particularly important. Some have to do with the nature and patterning of the data; others with a proper method of investigation; others with definitions and stances; and still others with theological presuppositions. My listing of these issues is set out in something of a logical order, moving from more elementary considerations to more profound concerns. They are not listed, however, in any necessary order of importance; nor are they all equally significant. Yet all of these matters are intrinsically involved—indeed, inherently intertwined—in any discussion of the use of Scripture by the writers of the New Testament. And they are enumerated and commented on briefly in what follows so as (1) to foster greater clarity with respect to the questions to be asked in today’s ongoing discussion and (2) to set the material of this second edition in its modern context.

Quotations or Allusions

The initial question in any study of the use of Scripture in the New Testament concerns the identification of the primary data itself. What data should be treated? Where should our focus be in studying the data: on explicit biblical quotations or on the allusive use of biblical themes, concepts, and language—or, in some manner, on both? Furthermore, it needs always to be asked: What controls are necessary in identifying the data? In other words: Where do we start? What should be primarily considered? How can we move ahead in our study in a manner that minimizes speculation and supports defensible hypotheses?

This rather preliminary consideration has recently come to a head in Richard B. Hays’s lucid and ofttimes insightful Echoes of Scripture in the Letters of Paul,¹ which, while also interacting with biblical quotations, focuses on what the author sees to be meaningful echoes of biblical themes, concepts, and language that can be found throughout Paul’s letters. Yet, as J. Christiaan Beker points out in review of Hays’s work, it may legitimately be asked with regard to the identification of these echoes: Which were in the mind of Paul himself? Which did the apostle presuppose were also in the minds of his readers? And which could be said to be only in the mind of Professor Hays—particularly when some of these echoes are identified as being muffled, subliminal, latent, or material that murmurs unbidden in the ear?²

Rabbinic midrash and the letters of Paul, Hays rightly argues, are natural analogues because both are paradigmatic instances of intertextual discourse, both wrestling with the same great precursor.³ In the explication of rabbinic midrash, Hays relies heavily on the work of Michael Fishbane,⁴ who in turn builds on that of his teacher and now colleague at Brandeis University, Nahum M. Sarna.⁵ From Fishbane Hays picks up not only the term echoes but also the method of inner-biblical exegesis (or what Hays and others call intertextuality—that is, the imbedding of fragments of an earlier text within a later one). All of this, to a great extent, is highly laudable. But Hays is not anywhere as clear about the controls and constraints necessary in identifying such echoes as is Fishbane.

Avowedly, Fishbane is thoroughly inner-biblical in his approach, working entirely with what he designates the traditum (the written revelation) and the traditio (the interpretive tradition) of ancient Judaism. In so doing, however, he recognizes the need to develop "a strict methodological hedge against uncritical assumptions of literary exegetical interdependence, since similarities of expression need not always imply a borrowing or adapting of materials but may only reflect a shared stream of linguistic tradition."⁶ So he proposes three broad methodological considerations when dealing with halakic and haggadic exegesis in the Jewish exegetical tradition: (1) the use of technical formulae to set off explicit quotations; (2) the presence of "parallel texts within the MT, or between the MT and its principal versions; and (3) the dense occurrence of terms in biblical passages that become reorganized, transposed, and used in a natural, uncomplicated form" in later passages.⁷

Of the first, Fishbane notes that such technical formulae provide the easiest and most explicit means for identifying biblical materials in the traditio or interpretive tradition. The second he seems to use in the sense of multiple attestation to indicate the importance of a particular feature in the traditum or written revelation; while the third, that of density of occurrence, which he acknowledges depends on a more subjective text-critical judgment, he uses to establish the intentionality of the recurrence of a text, theme, or particular feature in the traditio or interpretive, exegetical tradition. Thus he declares his desire to exercise internal controls against incautious or fallacious methodological procedures, which mistake common language for intended echoes, by restricting his inquiry to (1) explicit quotations in the traditio, which are set off by technical formulae, (2) multiple attested features in the traditum, which serve to suggest importance, and (3) density of occurrence in the traditio, which serves to imply intentionality. Further, with respect to this third consideration, he speaks of density of occurrence as being indicated by manifestly redundant and disruptive features and multiple and sustained lexical linkages.⁸

Richard Hays, on the other hand, tends to treat biblical quotations as merely louder echoes of Scripture, and he uses them principally as springboards for the discovery of much more significant resonances in the allusive biblical materials that appear in Paul’s letters. In the hands of an able and articulate practitioner, such a method produces some rather exciting results. What it lacks, however, are the necessary controls and constraints of careful research, thereby allowing the inclusion of data that can be questioned as being primary.

A better procedure, I suggest, is to focus primarily on the explicit quotations of Scripture that appear in the New Testament, and only then to include in one’s treatment the more allusive biblical materials—but only such allusions as can be shown by the criteria of multiple attestation, manifestly redundant and disruptive features, multiple and sustained lexical linkages, or density of occurrence to be significant in the mind of one or more of the New Testament writers, and not just explainable on the basis of a common Jewish outlook or common biblical language. It is this latter approach that I adopted in 1975 and that I continue to advocate in this second edition, believing it best—particularly in an introductory discussion—to start on the surer footing of explicit quotations and to move into the allusive treatment of biblical themes and references only with great care.⁹

The Distribution of Biblical Quotations

Also of importance when treating the biblical quotations in the New Testament is the matter of their distribution. All four Gospels portray Jesus as using Scripture extensively in his teaching, both explicitly and allusively. There is ample attestation to such an extensive use of Scripture by Jesus in the various Gospel sources—in the narrative material of Mark that was incorporated also by Matthew and Luke, in the Sayings or Q material of Matthew and Luke, and in the distinctive traditions of John. But there is a noticeable difference in the use of the Old Testament between the editorial comments and additions of Matthew and John, on the one hand, and those of Mark and Luke, on the other. For whereas in the editorial materials of Matthew and John there can be found fulfillment formulae, biblical quotations, and biblical allusions in abundance, in the editorial materials of Mark and Luke there appear only a few such references.

Even more remarkable is the pattern found in the Pauline corpus. For of the eighty-three explicit biblical quotations that appear in the Pauline letters—which utilize about one hundred Old Testament passages, at times in conflated fashion—forty-five occur in Romans, fifteen in 1 Corinthians, seven in 2 Corinthians, ten in Galatians, four in Ephesians, and two in 1 and 2 Timothy, but none are to be found in Philippians, 1 Thessalonians, or Philemon (which are uncontested as to their authenticity) and none in Colossians, 2 Thessalonians, or Titus (which are often, though variously, debated as to authorship). More particularly, in Romans, where over half of Paul’s biblical quotations are to be found and the conflation of Old Testament texts is most prominent, there is the seemingly strange phenomenon of an extensive use of Scripture in the arguments of 1:16–4:25 and 9:1–11:36, as well as in the exhortations of 12:1–15:13, but a paucity of biblical quotations in 5:1–8:39. And something of a similar pattern occurs in the Acts of the Apostles, where biblical quotations and clear allusions are to be found in the portrayals of the Church’s mission to the Jewish world in the first fifteen chapters and in the representations of Paul’s words before Jewish audiences in chapters 13 (a particular synagogue at Antioch), 23 (the Sanhedrin at Jerusalem), and 28 (Jewish leaders at Rome), but not in accounts of Paul’s mission and preaching to Gentiles.¹⁰

Based on a certain understanding of how the Old Testament functions as a material source for Christian theology and the claim that biblical allusions pervade the whole of the New Testament, such a pattern is frequently denied. Even when the phenomenon is noted, it is often bracketed as being unimportant. At times, however, this pattern of distribution has been not only observed but also taken seriously, with various explanations given.

Adolf Harnack, for example, highlighted the phenomenon and developed from it a circumstantial understanding of Paul’s use of Scripture, arguing that the apostle used Scripture in his letters only when confronting Jewish opposition—which, of course, Harnack identified as opposition from the Judaizers.¹¹ Robin Scroggs used the difference in the distribution of biblical quotations in Romans to argue that Romans 1–11 contains two Pauline sermons with two distinctly different types of rhetoric: one to a Jewish audience, which was originally made up of materials in chapters 1–4 and 9–11 but whose parts have somehow become separated; the other to a Gentile audience, as now found in chapters 5–8.¹² And J. Christiaan Beker has spoken of the peculiar appearance and disappearance of Scripture in Romans as reflecting the factors of coherence and contingency in Paul’s thought, proposing from this pattern of usage that where the Jewish question is no longer an issue in the Gentile church, the hermeneutic of Old Testament Scripture is left behind.¹³

Though this matter regarding the distribution of biblical quotations (and allusions) in the New Testament is frequently ignored—sometimes, in fact, even mocked as being a nonissue—I believe it is an important consideration. It is a feature that I highlighted in the 1975 edition of the present monograph, have reasserted with respect to Romans in a recent article,¹⁴ and am in the process of incorporating into a forthcoming commentary on Romans. Its continued appearance in this revised edition of Biblical Exegesis is, therefore, quite deliberate, and readers will be forced to come to a decision in their own minds on the matter.

Inner-Biblical Exegesis or Extrabiblical Exegesis

One rather large question regarding the New Testament writers’ use of Scripture has to do with methodology. The question is: Are we to understand the use of Scripture in the New Testament by means of an inner-biblical exegesis, which usually means among Christian scholars confining our investigations to the literary and theological parallels that exist between the two canonical testaments,¹⁵ or also by means of an extra-biblical exegesis, which will be taken here to signify a comparative historical analysis of the exegetical procedures of the New Testament authors vis-à-vis the conventions, themes, and practices found in the Greco-Roman world generally and the writings and traditions of Second Temple or Early Judaism in particular?¹⁶ An inner-biblical method holds itself almost entirely to literary and theological parallels, works mainly with canonical intertextuality, and is synchronic in nature. An extrabiblical method, however, while acknowledging the importance of inner-biblical exegesis, also (1) recognizes cognate, extracanonical materials as being of aid in one’s attempt to understand the hermeneutical mind-sets and exegetical practices of the New Testament writers, (2) understands intertextuality in broader terms to mean interpreted texts as they have been used and reused in a wider historical spectrum, and (3) is diachronic as well as synchronic in nature.

Of course, no one working in the field denies, in theory, the presence of nonbiblical influences on the writers of the New Testament. In practice, however, many scholars have tended to bracket such historical investigations, preferring, as Hays says in his study of Paul, to give the place of honor to the privileged predecessor that Paul himself explicitly acknowledged, and so to be limited to an exploration of the intertextual echoes of Israel’s Scripture in Paul.¹⁷ And this approach is also reflected, most obviously, in the writings of S. L. Edgar,¹⁸ S. L. Johnson,¹⁹ P. S. Alexander,²⁰ W. C. Kaiser,²¹ D. Juel,²² and E. E. Johnson²³—who, though differing widely on matters of interpretation and application, hold themselves rather strictly to such an inner-biblical methodology. It is defended, as well, by proponents of what has been called canonical criticism, whether of the type advocated by B. S. Childs,²⁴ by J. A. Sanders,²⁵ or by B. K. Waltke.²⁶

An inner-biblical or inner-canonical approach to New Testament exegesis was generally the rule prior to the 1950s, and scholars who espouse such an approach today often appeal to those earlier writers in support. The Dead Sea Scrolls, however, have brought about nothing less than a revolution in the scholarly study of the New Testament. They have done this directly by their contents. For as Joseph Fitzmyer points out, they provide a remarkable parallel and background for the interpretation of the Old Testament by New Testament writers—with Fitzmyer going on to say: Herein lies the greatest contribution to the study of the New Testament which has come from the study of the Qumran scrolls.²⁷ And they have done this indirectly by alerting biblical scholars to the importance of studying afresh the cognate writings and traditions of Early Judaism. Today, in fact, despite frequent protestations otherwise, it is impossible to give a fair hearing to the exegesis of the New Testament without also interacting with the various exegetical presuppositions and conventions found in the writings of Early Judaism—whether it be those found in the distinctive Dead Sea texts themselves, in the other pseudepigraphical and apocalyptic writings of Second Temple Judaism, or in the later rabbinic codifications of earlier Pharisaic teaching.

It is possible, of course, to become overly enamored with historical, diachronic studies of New Testament exegesis vis-à-vis the exegetical conventions of Early Judaism. Parallelomania, as Samuel Sandmel once warned biblical scholars, is an ever-present danger.²⁸ Nonetheless, while attempting always to guard against that danger, I believe Geza Vermes’s perspective is still valid and important:

In inter-testamental Judaism there existed a fundamental unity of exegetical tradition. This tradition, the basis of religious faith and life, was adopted and modified by its constituent groups, the Pharisees, the Qumran sectaries and the Judeo-Christians. We have, as a result, three cognate schools of exegesis of the one message recorded in the Bible, and it is the duty of the historian to emphasize that none of them can properly be understood independently of the others.²⁹

It is such a stance, however derived, that is reflected in the work of a number of scholars today, both Jewish and Christian. And I join them in reaffirming in this second edition of Biblical Exegesis in the Apostolic Period my commitment to a historical and comparative study of the New Testament’s use of the Old—not as the be all and end all of investigation, but as a highly significant aid in such a study.

Identifying, Analyzing, and Defining Exegetical Features in Early Judaism

Commitment to a diachronic study of New Testament exegesis vis-à-vis the hermeneutical conventions of Early Judaism suggests, of course, some expertise in both areas of study. It also implies an ability to identify, analyze, and define the data drawn from both Jewish and Christian sources. Jewish scholars usually evidence a greater expertise than Christians in dealing with the data of Early Judaism, though often less with New Testament materials. Conversely, Christian scholars usually have greater expertise in the New Testament and less in Early Judaism. There is, therefore, the need for cooperative interaction between Jews and Christians when entering into comparative studies. But all scholars, whether Jewish or Christian, are human, and so often find themselves stretched when called on to speak with precision regarding the essential hermeneutical features of either Early Judaism or the New Testament, or of both.

Modern Jews often find it difficult to think like ancient Jews and so to analyze the hermeneutics of Early Judaism in a manner that is both true to the ancients and understandable today. And Christians have even greater difficulty. So, for example, the definition of midrash—a term used in both Early and Rabbinic Judaism to signify broadly an interpretive exposition, however derived, and narrowly a particular method of interpretation—is a matter of extensive discussion. When used more narrowly, does it connote an identifiable literary genre (as per A. G. Wright³⁰), an attitude more than a method (as per R. Le Déaut³¹), or simply a type of biblical interpretation which is found in the Jewish biblical commentaries which the Jews call ‘midrash’ (as per D. Boyarin³²)? Likewise with regard to the term pesher, which appears in the Dead Sea Scrolls. Does it refer to a method of exegesis different from midrash? Or should it be viewed as a subcategory or extension of midrash—that is, as midrash-pesher. Or are the two terms to be understood as roughly synonymous? And similar questions can be raised with regard to peshat (plain or literal) and allegorical exegesis.

A great deal of effort has been directed toward identifying, analyzing, and defining the hermeneutical features of ancient Judaism—not only within the Jewish Scriptures themselves, but also within the writings of Early Judaism and the earlier traditions of Rabbinic Judaism. Leading the field during the past two decades have been such Jewish scholars as D. Boyarin,³³ M. Fishbane,³⁴ D. W. Halivni,³⁵ J. Neusner,³⁶ G. G. Porton,³⁷ and G. Vermes,³⁸ with a diversity of approaches and conclusions proposed. Joining them in these endeavors, particularly on materials from Early Judaism, have been such Christian scholars as E. E. Ellis,³⁹ J. A. Fitzmyer,⁴⁰ and M. McNamara.⁴¹ And H. W. Bateman has recently offered a significant study of exegetical procedures in the Dead Sea Scrolls.⁴²

Building on the work of earlier scholars, I attempted in 1975 to identify, analyze, and synthesize the hermeneutics of Early Judaism in a manner able to be grasped by the beginning student. So I proposed that Jewish exegesis of the first century can generally be classified under four headings: literalist, midrashic, pesher, and allegorical.⁴³ At that time I frankly acknowledged, as I continue to acknowledge today, that in dealing with a system that thinks more holistically, functionally, and practically than it does analytically—and that stresses precedent more than logic in defense of its ways—any attempt at classification must necessarily go beyond that system’s explicit statements as to its own principles.⁴⁴

Admittedly, my portrayal of the hermeneutics of Early Judaism some twenty-three years ago—though based, I would claim, on an informed understanding of the data and providing representative exegetical examples—was not accompanied by an exhaustive analysis of the texts in question. For that I have been criticized, and for that I plead guilty! Nonetheless, like a grammarian working on the data of a given language or a rhetorician seeking to explicate the flow of an extended argument, my task, as I saw it, was to set out a synthesis of the material that would provide a structure for continued investigation and use. And having followed the course of scholarly investigations and discussions during the past two decades, I still think that my then proposed fourfold classification, while obviously elemental in nature, continues to serve its original purpose. Recently, in fact, Herbert Bateman has demonstrated how the basic features of that classification function as an appropriate grid for understanding the exegetical procedures of the Dead Sea Scrolls, particularly as found in 1QpHabakkuk, 4QFlorilegium, and 11QtgJob.⁴⁵

The Fulfillment Theme in the New Testament

Mainline Jewish exegetes of the first century viewed their task as primarily that of adapting, reinterpreting, extending, and so reapplying sacred Scripture to the present circumstances of God’s people, both with respect to how they should live (halakah) and how they should think (haggadah). The covenanters at Qumran and the other apocalyptic writers of Second Temple Judaism, who believed that they were living at the close of This Age and on the verge of The Age to Come (to use the language of 4 Ezra), had other purposes of an eschatological nature as well. Explicitly assuming a mantological or revelational stance for their interpretations, they sought to open up what they considered to be obscure or enigmatic features in the biblical texts and to spell out the significance of those revealed meanings for their audiences in the final days of This Age. The Pharisees and the early Tannaitic rabbis, however, whose interpretive traditions became codified in the Mishnah, Gemaras, Midrashim, and the other rabbinic writings, viewed exegesis as a contemporizing enterprise. Thus, in halakic or legal exegesis, as Fishbane notes, the concern was with making pre-existent laws applicable or viable in new contexts; while in haggadic exegesis, which dealt with moral, theological, and didactic matters—including everything that was not strictly halakah, it was with "utilizing the full range of the inherited traditum [i.e., the authoritative, written revelation] for the sake of new theological insights, attitudes, and speculations."⁴⁶ And in contemporizing Scripture, Jewish exegetes worked within the confines of a strictly inner-biblical type of exegesis—or, at least, that is what they proclaimed they were doing.⁴⁷

New Testament writers, however, used Scripture principally for a different purpose. Comparable in many respects to the hermeneutics of the Dead Sea covenanters and some of the other Jewish apocalyptic writers of the period, the New Testament writers used biblical materials, in the main, to highlight the theme of fulfillment. Two distinctive features can be observed in this usage. The first is that the New Testament writers began in their understanding of fulfillment from a stance outside the biblical materials themselves and used Scripture mainly to support that stance—that is, rather than beginning with a biblical text and then seeking to contemporize it, they began from outside the texts and used those texts principally to support their extrabiblical stance. Second, they understood fulfillment in broader terms than just direct prediction and explicit verification—that is, rather than viewing fulfillment as simply a linguistic or conceptual reenactment of an ancient prophecy, they understood it in a fuller and more personal manner.

The first of these features is referred to by Michael Fishbane as he comments on the exegesis of the early tannaitic rabbis vis-à-vis that of early Christians and Muslims. He identifies the tannaitic rabbis as engaging in an inner-biblical exegesis and then goes on to compare their hermeneutical practices with those of Christianity and Islam—pointing out a vitally important difference of stance and method:

The position of inner-biblical exegesis [of the tannaitic rabbis] is unique among the foundational documents of the Western religious tradition: neither the Gospels nor Pauline writings on the one hand, nor the Quran on the other, are quite like it. The dominant thrust of these documents with respect to the Hebrew Bible is their proclamation that they have fulfilled or superseded the ancient Israelite traditum [i.e., the authoritative, written revelation]. Theirs is an innovative traditio [i.e., an interpretive tradition], continuous with the Hebrew Bible but decidedly something new, something not biblical—if we may use that word for the moment as indicating the ancient Israelite traditum which forms the basis for the exegetical claims of Christianity and Islam. From this perspective, the Tannaitic sources (followed by the Rabbis of the Talmud), the Gospels and Pauline writings (followed by the Church Fathers), and the Quran (followed by the Doctors of Islam) are three post-biblical streams of tradition which are each based on the Hebrew Bible but have each transformed this traditum in radically diverse ways. Thus, while the Gospels occasionally comment upon themselves (as, for example, Matt. 24:15, which makes Scripturally explicit what is only hinted at in Mark 13:14), or include brief editorial remarks (also in Mark 13:14 and Matt. 24:15), and while theological interpolations may be found in the Quran as well (as the phrase for he is only one God, in 16:51), such are not the distinctive exegetical traits of these sources.⁴⁸

Fishbane’s observations regarding the diverse stances of the early Jewish rabbis, on the one hand, and Jesus, Paul, and Muhammad, on the other, should not be taken to mean that the particular exegetical procedures and practices found in the writings and traditions of Early Judaism are to be viewed as having functioned only in Pharisaic or early rabbinic contexts. That is not his point, nor should he be read as implying such. The exegetical conventions of Early Judaism were, it seems, the common tools of the trade, which could be used for many purposes and in support of various theological edifices. Rather, what Fishbane’s words suggest is that in attempting to understand the fulfillment thrust of early Christian exegesis, one cannot just assume that the New Testament writers were using the common exegetical conventions of the day in the same manner or for the same purpose as Pharisaic-type exegetes. For while those more mainline Jewish exegetes began with a biblical text and sought to contemporize it by means of an inner-biblical exegesis, Jesus, Paul, and believers in Jesus generally—believing themselves to be speaking, acting, and writing in fulfillment of Scripture, and so to be in continuity with Scripture—began with an extrabiblical stance and principally used Scripture to support that stance. Or as expressed in the words of C. F. D. Moule, what took place in early Christian exegesis was that:

The Christians began from Jesus—from his known character and mighty deeds and sayings, and his death and resurrection; and with these they went to the scriptures, and found that God’s dealings with his People and his intentions for them there reflected did, in fact, leap into new significance in the light of these recent happenings.⁴⁹

The second of these distinguishable features in the early Christians’ understanding of fulfillment was also explicated particularly well by Moule in his 1967 presidential address to the Studiorum Novi Testamenti Societas, which he entitled Fulfilment-Words in the New Testament: Use and Abuse.⁵⁰ Based on an analysis of the מלא/πληροῦν group of words and their cognates, Moule has pointed out that fulfillment in the New Testament is not to be understood principally as either (1) the exact linguistic correlation of direct prophecy vis-à-vis explicit fulfillment, though there are certainly some cases of this phenomenon in the New Testament, or (2) the general idea of simply the beginning of a project, undertaking, or obligation vis-à-vis the termination, completion, achievement, discharge, confirmation, or realization of such an endeavor. Rather, Moule argues that fulfillment in the New Testament sense has to do with God’s covenant-promise vis-à-vis God’s own consummation of that promise—with that consummation effected in a fully personal manner through Jesus Christ both individually and corporately.⁵¹ Or as Moule put it at the close of his address:

If one attempts to define it [fulfillment] so as to give it the distinctiveness which belongs to its strictly Christian application, it must be along the lines of an achievement, by God himself in Jesus Christ, of the covenant-promise in terms of a fully personal relationship—which, through its long history, has been struggling towards such a fulfilment. It is not merely that the time of Jesus is ἡ ἐσχάτη ὥρα [the last hour]; much more significantly, Jesus is himself ὁ ἔσχατος Άδάμ [the last Adam/Man]. This personal achievement, in Jesus Christ, is a collective and corporate fulfilment, as well as an individual one; and it sets in motion a new train of relationships inherited by the Christian Church, to whose corporate achievement the words can then be applied in a new way.⁵²

Scholars and lay people alike have often treated the concept of fulfillment in the New Testament in a rather wooden fashion, simply matching the features of a claimed prophecy with those of a claimed fulfillment. So the study of the New Testament’s use of the Old has been dominated by literary analyses of relationships between direct predictions and explicit verifications, with attention being given to quotations, allusions, and now echoes. All this linguistic attention, when guided by proper constraints and controls, is profitable and necessary, and I hope to be able to demonstrate