The term “antichrist” (Gk. antichristos) is used only four times in the Bible (1 John 2:18, 22; 4:3; 2 John 7). John warns his readers that it is already the last hour, and that just as they “have heard that the antichrist is coming, even now many antichrists have come” (1 John 2:18; cf. 4:3). John defines the antichrist as the one who denies that God has come in the flesh in the person of Jesus Christ (1 John 2:22; 4:3; 2 John 7).

The concept of antichrist-type figures surfaces elsewhere in the NT. Jesus mentions “false messiahs and false prophets” who will “perform signs and wonders to deceive, if possible, even the elect” (Mark 13:22). Paul speaks of a “man of lawlessness” who will “oppose and will exalt himself over everything that is called God or is worshiped, so that he sets himself up in God’s temple, proclaiming himself to be God” (2 Thess. 2:3–4). In Rev. 13 John describes the most famous antichrist figure of all: the “beast coming out of the sea.” Throughout the OT the false-prophet tradition (e.g., Deut. 13; 18; Jer. 23; Ezek. 12–14) describes religious individuals from within the community who attempt to deceive God’s people. Also, there was a common belief in an oppressive ruler from outside the community who would persecute the righteous (e.g., Dan. 8; 11). By the late first century, when Revelation was written, people would have been familiar with a host of pagan rulers who had exalted themselves as gods (the king of Babylon [Isa. 14], the pharaoh [Ezek. 29], Antiochus Epiphanes [Dan. 11], and Roman emperors such as Caligula, Nero, and Domitian). The evil-ruler tradition and the false-prophet tradition seem to converge in Rev. 13 as the beast from the sea (the antichrist) and the beast from the earth (the false prophet).

Most scholars agree that the original beast described in Rev. 13 was a Roman emperor (either Nero or Domitian) who demanded to be worshiped as God. Supported by a second beast, the cult of Caesar worship enforced by priests throughout the empire, the imperial system demanded that Christians choose between two opposing confessions: Caesar is Lord or Jesus is Lord. More specifically, Revelation indicates that the “beast coming out of the sea” is empowered by Satan (vv. 1–2, 4), masquerades as Christ (vv. 1, 3, 12, 14), accepts worship as a god (vv. 4, 8), wields extensive power (vv. 4, 7), blasphemes and slanders God (vv. 1, 5–6), and ruthlessly persecutes the saints (v. 7). The “beast coming out of the earth” (emperor cult) is also empowered by Satan (vv. 11, 14), promotes the worship of the first beast (vv. 12, 14–15), performs signs and wonders designed to deceive (vv. 13–15), and causes those who refused to worship the first beast to be put to death physically (v. 15) or economically (vv. 16–17). But in spite of their final effort to take God’s place and conquer God’s people, Christ will return to destroy the antichrist and the false prophet in the lake of fire (17:8; 19:19–21).

The “day of the Lord” is a phrase used frequently by the OT prophets as well as by several NT writers. In general, it is used to refer to the coming time when God will intervene powerfully and decisively in human history to bring about his promised plan.

The OT prophets also use other similar phrases such as “the day,” “the day when,” and “that day” to mean the same thing as the “day of the Lord” (Heb. yom yhwh). In regard to the future, the prophets speak regularly of imminent judgment and future restoration, both for Israel/Judah and for the nations. Some of their prophecies find fulfillment after only a few months or years (the Assyrian and Babylonian invasion), and some of their prophecies are fulfilled generations later by the return of the exiles under Ezra and Nehemiah. Some are fulfilled by the first coming of Christ, and some still await fulfillment. In poetic fashion, the OT prophets often telescope all the multifaceted significant prophetic events of the future into one spectacular dramatic time called “the day of the Lord.”

Included in this “day” are several significant prophetic actions by God. First, the imminent judgments on Israel and Judah by the hand of the Assyrians and the Babylonians are included in the “day of the Lord” (Isa. 3:18–4:1; Amos 5:18–20). Likewise, merged into the “day of the Lord” is God’s judgment on the foreign nations that conspired against Israel and Judah (Isa. 13:1–22; Obad. 15). Finally, the prophets will use the phrase “day of the Lord” to refer to that time of glorious future restoration and blessing that God will establish for both Israel/Judah and for the nations (Isa. 11:10–12; Joel 3:14–18). In this final context the “day of the Lord” is often tightly interconnected with the messianic promise.

In the NT, the phrase “day of the Lord” (Gk. hēmera tou kyriou) is used in much the same manner as in the OT. Some aspects of the day of the Lord were clearly fulfilled by the first coming of Christ. For example, the OT prophet Joel prophesies that on the day of the Lord, God will pour out his Spirit on all kinds of people (Joel 2:28–31), a prophecy that found fulfillment on the day of Pentecost (Acts 2:17–21). So the OT messianic prophecies connected to the day of the Lord sometimes find fulfillment in events surrounding Christ’s first coming (as seen in the NT), while some await his future, second coming.

The NT writers often employ this important phrase from the OT, but they use it primarily to refer specifically to the future, second coming of Christ (1 Cor. 5:5; 1 Thess. 5:2; 2 Thess. 2:2; 2 Pet. 3:10, 12). Just as the OT uses synonyms for the “day of the Lord,” the NT uses terms such as “that day,” “those days,” “the great day,” or “the day of our Lord Jesus Christ” as synonyms for the “day of the Lord,” the time of Christ’s glorious return (e.g., Mark 13:24; 1 Cor. 1:8; Rev. 6:17; 16:14).

The “day of the Lord” is a phrase used frequently by the OT prophets as well as by several NT writers. In general, it is used to refer to the coming time when God will intervene powerfully and decisively in human history to bring about his promised plan.

The OT prophets also use other similar phrases such as “the day,” “the day when,” and “that day” to mean the same thing as the “day of the Lord” (Heb. yom yhwh). In regard to the future, the prophets speak regularly of imminent judgment and future restoration, both for Israel/Judah and for the nations. Some of their prophecies find fulfillment after only a few months or years (the Assyrian and Babylonian invasion), and some of their prophecies are fulfilled generations later by the return of the exiles under Ezra and Nehemiah. Some are fulfilled by the first coming of Christ, and some still await fulfillment. In poetic fashion, the OT prophets often telescope all the multifaceted significant prophetic events of the future into one spectacular dramatic time called “the day of the Lord.”

Included in this “day” are several significant prophetic actions by God. First, the imminent judgments on Israel and Judah by the hand of the Assyrians and the Babylonians are included in the “day of the Lord” (Isa. 3:18–4:1; Amos 5:18–20). Likewise, merged into the “day of the Lord” is God’s judgment on the foreign nations that conspired against Israel and Judah (Isa. 13:1–22; Obad. 15). Finally, the prophets will use the phrase “day of the Lord” to refer to that time of glorious future restoration and blessing that God will establish for both Israel/Judah and for the nations (Isa. 11:10–12; Joel 3:14–18). In this final context the “day of the Lord” is often tightly interconnected with the messianic promise.

In the NT, the phrase “day of the Lord” (Gk. hēmera tou kyriou) is used in much the same manner as in the OT. Some aspects of the day of the Lord were clearly fulfilled by the first coming of Christ. For example, the OT prophet Joel prophesies that on the day of the Lord, God will pour out his Spirit on all kinds of people (Joel 2:28–31), a prophecy that found fulfillment on the day of Pentecost (Acts 2:17–21). So the OT messianic prophecies connected to the day of the Lord sometimes find fulfillment in events surrounding Christ’s first coming (as seen in the NT), while some await his future, second coming.

The NT writers often employ this important phrase from the OT, but they use it primarily to refer specifically to the future, second coming of Christ (1 Cor. 5:5; 1 Thess. 5:2; 2 Thess. 2:2; 2 Pet. 3:10, 12). Just as the OT uses synonyms for the “day of the Lord,” the NT uses terms such as “that day,” “those days,” “the great day,” or “the day of our Lord Jesus Christ” as synonyms for the “day of the Lord,” the time of Christ’s glorious return (e.g., Mark 13:24; 1 Cor. 1:8; Rev. 6:17; 16:14).

The Greek word translated in some versions as “perdition” (apōleia) generally means “destruction” (as it is translated in the NIV). Occasionally, however, it is associated with Sheol as a place for the dead. In fact, where the Hebrew texts of Proverbs and Job read “Sheol” and “Abaddon,” the Greek translation reads “Hades” (hadēs) and “Destruction” (apōleia) (e.g., Prov. 15:11; 27:20; Job 26:6; cf. Job 28:22). Furthermore, the author of Revelation eventually personifies the place apōleia as the person Apollyon, king over the Abyss (9:11). Often, wicked people are said to be “characterized by” and consequently “bound for” perdition. For example, in the Greek text of Isaiah the inhabi-tants of Edom are called “people of perdition” and the ungodly leaders of Israel “children of perdition” (34:5; cf. Pss. Sol. 2.31; 3.11). Similarly, Paul considers hardened individuals to be vessels of divine wrath, “prepared for destruction” (Rom. 9:22), and Peter assures his audience that the destruction hanging over the false prophets has not fallen asleep (2 Pet. 2:3). Two figures in particular are referred to traditionally as a “son of perdition”: Judas, who betrayed the Christ (John 17:12; NIV: “the one doomed to destruction”), and the man of lawlessness (2 Thess. 2:3; NIV: “the man doomed to destruction”), often identified as the antichrist. Moreover, in Revelation the beast upon which the whore of Babylon sits is said to ascend from the bottomless pit only ultimately to proceed to destruction (17:8, 11). In popular usage today, “perdition” most often signifies either the eternal damnation of the wicked or the final place of destruction for them.

A missive or epistle (2 Chron. 35:4; Ezra 4:7). Usually, ancient Near Eastern letters were written on perishable materials, as opposed to, for example, inscriptions in stone. Since there are few places where such material could survive (deserts or anaerobic bogs), one would expect few surviving letters; yet they number in the tens of thousands. The ancients were letter writers. Significantly, reading old letters has remained a significant aspect of the Christian faith. Today, many Christians regularly read someone else’s mail—the letters of the NT—and face the expected interpretation challenges.

Form

Old Testament letters. Although more than a dozen letters are embedded in the OT (e.g., 2 Sam. 11:15; 1 Kings 21:9–10; 2 Chron. 21:12–15), no OT book is in letter form. Embedded OT letters are truncated or summaries and tell us little of the typical ancient format. From the Lachish letters we infer that Hebrew letters generally opened with “To Addressee, greetings (or blessing),” a technical word of transition (“and now”), and no formal closing. By the Second Temple period, Aramaic letters were evolving into the structure seen in Greco-Roman style.

New Testament letters. Unlike the OT, the NT has twenty-one books in letter form: the thirteen traditional letters of Paul, the anonymous letter of Hebrews, James, 1–2 Peter, 1–3 John, and Jude. Two letters are embedded in Acts (15:23–29; 23:26–30). It is unlikely that the “letters” in Rev. 2–3 were ever dispatched letters. The NT also mentions other letters (Acts 18:27; 1 Cor. 5:9; 7:1; 16:3; 2 Cor. 2:3–4; Col. 4:16; 2 Thess. 2:2; 3:17).

Extant NT letters share the basic format of Greco-Roman letters, beginning with “Sender to Recipient, greetings [chairein].” A prayer (much less commonly a thanksgiving) transitioned into the letter body. The body of the letter opened with various phrases in a set format (stereotyped formula), such as disclosure: “I want you to know, brother(s), that . . .” (P.Oxy. 1493; Gal. 1:11); astonishment: “I am astonished how . . .” (P.Mich. 8.479; Gal. 1:6); petition, joy, and so forth.

The letter closed with final admonitions, greetings, good wishes, and sometimes a date. In addition to a set structure, the content was often far more stereotypical than letters today. Even letters to a family member had generic greetings, set phraseology, and standardized wishes for good health.

Yet, looking beyond the basic letter outline and the use of everyday language and formulas, it becomes clear that NT letters were not part and parcel with typical papyrus letters. Rather than the typical honor markers of rank or city, NT letter writers identified themselves by association with Jesus, sometimes describing themselves as slaves in his household (Rom. 1:1; James 1:1). The typical letter greeting (chairein) was Christianized into “grace” (charis), with the addition of “peace” (eirēnē)—the equivalent of Jewish shalom. A closing benediction was used instead of the typical final health wish/farewell. More significantly, most NT letters were far longer and more complex. The typical private letter of the poor averaged 87 words in length. Literary letters were much longer. Cicero averaged 295 words. Seneca led, with an average 995 per letter. Paul’s letter to Rome has 7,114 words. Paul averaged (including all 13 letters) 2,495 words. Not surprisingly, Paul’s opponents ridiculed his letters as “weighty” (2 Cor. 10:10).

Letters of the NT also assume that the audience is familiar with Jewish Christian tradition (e.g., Jude), inserting hymnic fragments, traditions, OT quotations/allusions, and so on, often without explanation or indication. The letters were to be read in front of the congregation (1 Thess. 5:27). Paul included longer and more complex thanksgivings than any known ancient writer, often using the opening thanksgiving to preview the letter’s main topics (e.g., 1 Cor. 1:4–7). Paul’s letters also contain large amounts of paraenesis (moral exhortation).

Although the typical papyrus letter was brief, thus keeping its cost reasonable, it was still not a trivial expense. For example, a soldier wrote a typical letter home to indicate that he had reached his assignment safely (P.Mich. 8.490), with a likely cost of about a half denarius, or in modern United States currency, about fifty dollars. Yet the length of many NT letters made them far more expensive. Writing to the Romans today would have cost Paul over two thousand U.S. dollars. A letter for public reading (Col. 4:16) needed quality papyrus in good handwriting, not some draft in hurried scrawl (Cicero, Att. 13.14–25). Appearances mattered. (For speakers, appearance was an important part of the rhetoric.)

The official Roman postal service was not for private use. The common person entrusted letters to someone already going to or near the desired destination. This method was popular, free, and surprisingly reliable, though haphazard (P.Mich. 8.499). Otherwise, sending a letter required dispatching a private carrier, often a slave, or a hired carrier (tabellarius). These carriers had advantages. They could guarantee the letter’s authenticity, since forgeries existed (2 Thess. 2:2). If able, they carried other items, often mentioned in the letter (P.Mich. 8.465–467) or the reply (Phil. 4:18). Carriers often provided additional (or confidential) details (so Col. 4:7; Cicero, Fam. 11.20.4; 11.26.5). The writer often commended the carrier as “trustworthy” to guarantee the carrier’s veracity. In Eph. 6:20–22, Paul wants it clear that he intended Tychicus to talk about Paul’s imprisonment (as proof that Paul was not ashamed of his chains), and not that Tychicus was merely revealing secrets, as sometimes was done (1 Cor. 1:11). Finally, Paul may have selected a specific carrier to facilitate that letter’s reception (Romans, Colossians). (See also Paul.)

Function

On the simplest level, letters had two primary functions. Expressions such as “I pray for your health and success” (P.Mich. 8.477) and “Write me how you are and what you want” (P.Mich. 8.498) were to start or keep a relationship with the recipient. Letters were also to inform (Cic-ero, Fam. 2.4.1), as when a son wrote his father, “While I was lying ill on the ship, they were stolen from me” (P.Mich. 8.468). Yet around the NT period, aristocratic writers (beginning with Cicero, then Seneca to Pliny) were modifying the simple private letter, lengthening it and elevating its style. They were using private letters to propagate religious, political, and philosophical ideas.

Scholarly study affected the study of NT letters for nearly one hundred years by arguing for a sharp distinction between “letters” (the letters of the lower classes, seen largely in the recently discovered papyri) and “epistles” (the literary letters of the aristocratic elite). Thus, Adolf Deissmann argued that the forms of NT letters (koine vocabulary, the diatribe, etc.) were indicators of the letter’s intended function: as private letters, they were artless, unschooled, and dashed off in the midst of a flurry of other activities. On the other hand, Cicero intended his “epistles” to Atticus to be read by the broader aristocratic community and thus wrote with that in mind, creating artfully composed treatises in letter form. Although they had the appearance of private letters, Cicero carefully crafted his “epistles,” knowing that others were reading over Atticus’s shoulder. NT letters were not “epistles”; they were spontaneous and should not be read as careful compositions. Yet biblical letters were not merely private documents. Even those addressed to individuals (1–2 Timothy, Titus) seem to speak to the church behind the recipient (3 John attempts to work around Diotrephes and address the church behind Gaius). Our categories of “public” versus “private” fit the ancient world poorly. Since the general function of letters was changing, NT letters should be seen as part of this shifting landscape.

Moreover, as Greco-Roman letters continued to be studied, NT letters seemed more than mere artless notes, scribbled in a spare moment. Indeed, seeing signs of careful rhetorical composition, scholars have noted similarities with categories outlined in Greco-Roman rhetorical handbooks for speeches: forensic (    judicial), epideictic (demonstrative), and deliberative. Arguing that letters were, in a sense, written speeches, various scholars have attempted to identify elements in NT letters that match the required outline for a specific rhetorical argument, meaning that a letter’s rhetorical form could indicate its function. Thus, identifying the rhetorical form would reveal the author’s motive for writing, whether the writer was intending to make a legal defense of personal status or to shape the behavior of the readers. While these studies generate lively debate and some interesting results, the usefulness of applying them to letters is still unclear. Rhetorical analyses of passages in the letters have proved to be more helpful than those categorizing an entire letter. Obviously, biblical letter writers were not writing in a vacuum, but biblical letters seem to mix purposes and not fit neatly into rhetorical categories.

Biblical letters were not dashed off with anything remotely resembling the rapid-fire pace at which email and text messages are sent today. Even phrases that seem to imply casual correspondence (1 Cor. 1:16) are more likely signs of careful rhetorical arguments. It is unlikely that biblical letters represent the work of just a long day or a few evenings. These letters show signs of careful composition (noticed more as scholars better understand ancient rhetoric and epistolary practices). The use of coworkers, secretaries, rough drafts, and revisions suggests that a NT letter was likely worked and reworked before being dispatched.

“Lawless” and “lawlessness” are English renderings of the Greek noun anomia, which literally means “without law” (cf. anomos in 1 Tim. 1:9) but often refers more generally to sinfulness or wrongdoing of any kind (e.g., Ps. 5:4 [5:5 LXX]; Matt. 7:23; Heb. 10:17; 1 John 3:4). Paul speaks about a man who so personifies evil that he can be called the “man of lawlessness” (2 Thess. 2:3–10). The “secret power of lawlessness” is already at work and will manifest itself in the appearance of this man, the antichrist (2 Thess. 2:7). Some Bible versions (e.g., NIV, NRSV) also use “lawless” to translate the Greek adjective athesmos (2 Pet. 2:7; 3:17; also 3 Macc. 5:12 LXX). This word, which occurs much less often in the Bible than anomia, is translated as “unprincipled” in the NASB.

“Lawless” and “lawlessness” are English renderings of the Greek noun anomia, which literally means “without law” (cf. anomos in 1 Tim. 1:9) but often refers more generally to sinfulness or wrongdoing of any kind (e.g., Ps. 5:4 [5:5 LXX]; Matt. 7:23; Heb. 10:17; 1 John 3:4). Paul speaks about a man who so personifies evil that he can be called the “man of lawlessness” (2 Thess. 2:3–10). The “secret power of lawlessness” is already at work and will manifest itself in the appearance of this man, the antichrist (2 Thess. 2:7). Some Bible versions (e.g., NIV, NRSV) also use “lawless” to translate the Greek adjective athesmos (2 Pet. 2:7; 3:17; also 3 Macc. 5:12 LXX). This word, which occurs much less often in the Bible than anomia, is translated as “unprincipled” in the NASB.

A missive or epistle (2 Chron. 35:4; Ezra 4:7). Usually, ancient Near Eastern letters were written on perishable materials, as opposed to, for example, inscriptions in stone. Since there are few places where such material could survive (deserts or anaerobic bogs), one would expect few surviving letters; yet they number in the tens of thousands. The ancients were letter writers. Significantly, reading old letters has remained a significant aspect of the Christian faith. Today, many Christians regularly read someone else’s mail—the letters of the NT—and face the expected interpretation challenges.

Form

Old Testament letters. Although more than a dozen letters are embedded in the OT (e.g., 2 Sam. 11:15; 1 Kings 21:9–10; 2 Chron. 21:12–15), no OT book is in letter form. Embedded OT letters are truncated or summaries and tell us little of the typical ancient format. From the Lachish letters we infer that Hebrew letters generally opened with “To Addressee, greetings (or blessing),” a technical word of transition (“and now”), and no formal closing. By the Second Temple period, Aramaic letters were evolving into the structure seen in Greco-Roman style.

New Testament letters. Unlike the OT, the NT has twenty-one books in letter form: the thirteen traditional letters of Paul, the anonymous letter of Hebrews, James, 1–2 Peter, 1–3 John, and Jude. Two letters are embedded in Acts (15:23–29; 23:26–30). It is unlikely that the “letters” in Rev. 2–3 were ever dispatched letters. The NT also mentions other letters (Acts 18:27; 1 Cor. 5:9; 7:1; 16:3; 2 Cor. 2:3–4; Col. 4:16; 2 Thess. 2:2; 3:17).

Extant NT letters share the basic format of Greco-Roman letters, beginning with “Sender to Recipient, greetings [chairein].” A prayer (much less commonly a thanksgiving) transitioned into the letter body. The body of the letter opened with various phrases in a set format (stereotyped formula), such as disclosure: “I want you to know, brother(s), that . . .” (P.Oxy. 1493; Gal. 1:11); astonishment: “I am astonished how . . .” (P.Mich. 8.479; Gal. 1:6); petition, joy, and so forth.

The letter closed with final admonitions, greetings, good wishes, and sometimes a date. In addition to a set structure, the content was often far more stereotypical than letters today. Even letters to a family member had generic greetings, set phraseology, and standardized wishes for good health.

Yet, looking beyond the basic letter outline and the use of everyday language and formulas, it becomes clear that NT letters were not part and parcel with typical papyrus letters. Rather than the typical honor markers of rank or city, NT letter writers identified themselves by association with Jesus, sometimes describing themselves as slaves in his household (Rom. 1:1; James 1:1). The typical letter greeting (chairein) was Christianized into “grace” (charis), with the addition of “peace” (eirēnē)—the equivalent of Jewish shalom. A closing benediction was used instead of the typical final health wish/farewell. More significantly, most NT letters were far longer and more complex. The typical private letter of the poor averaged 87 words in length. Literary letters were much longer. Cicero averaged 295 words. Seneca led, with an average 995 per letter. Paul’s letter to Rome has 7,114 words. Paul averaged (including all 13 letters) 2,495 words. Not surprisingly, Paul’s opponents ridiculed his letters as “weighty” (2 Cor. 10:10).

Letters of the NT also assume that the audience is familiar with Jewish Christian tradition (e.g., Jude), inserting hymnic fragments, traditions, OT quotations/allusions, and so on, often without explanation or indication. The letters were to be read in front of the congregation (1 Thess. 5:27). Paul included longer and more complex thanksgivings than any known ancient writer, often using the opening thanksgiving to preview the letter’s main topics (e.g., 1 Cor. 1:4–7). Paul’s letters also contain large amounts of paraenesis (moral exhortation).

Although the typical papyrus letter was brief, thus keeping its cost reasonable, it was still not a trivial expense. For example, a soldier wrote a typical letter home to indicate that he had reached his assignment safely (P.Mich. 8.490), with a likely cost of about a half denarius, or in modern United States currency, about fifty dollars. Yet the length of many NT letters made them far more expensive. Writing to the Romans today would have cost Paul over two thousand U.S. dollars. A letter for public reading (Col. 4:16) needed quality papyrus in good handwriting, not some draft in hurried scrawl (Cicero, Att. 13.14–25). Appearances mattered. (For speakers, appearance was an important part of the rhetoric.)

The official Roman postal service was not for private use. The common person entrusted letters to someone already going to or near the desired destination. This method was popular, free, and surprisingly reliable, though haphazard (P.Mich. 8.499). Otherwise, sending a letter required dispatching a private carrier, often a slave, or a hired carrier (tabellarius). These carriers had advantages. They could guarantee the letter’s authenticity, since forgeries existed (2 Thess. 2:2). If able, they carried other items, often mentioned in the letter (P.Mich. 8.465–467) or the reply (Phil. 4:18). Carriers often provided additional (or confidential) details (so Col. 4:7; Cicero, Fam. 11.20.4; 11.26.5). The writer often commended the carrier as “trustworthy” to guarantee the carrier’s veracity. In Eph. 6:20–22, Paul wants it clear that he intended Tychicus to talk about Paul’s imprisonment (as proof that Paul was not ashamed of his chains), and not that Tychicus was merely revealing secrets, as sometimes was done (1 Cor. 1:11). Finally, Paul may have selected a specific carrier to facilitate that letter’s reception (Romans, Colossians). (See also Paul.)

Function

On the simplest level, letters had two primary functions. Expressions such as “I pray for your health and success” (P.Mich. 8.477) and “Write me how you are and what you want” (P.Mich. 8.498) were to start or keep a relationship with the recipient. Letters were also to inform (Cic-ero, Fam. 2.4.1), as when a son wrote his father, “While I was lying ill on the ship, they were stolen from me” (P.Mich. 8.468). Yet around the NT period, aristocratic writers (beginning with Cicero, then Seneca to Pliny) were modifying the simple private letter, lengthening it and elevating its style. They were using private letters to propagate religious, political, and philosophical ideas.

Scholarly study affected the study of NT letters for nearly one hundred years by arguing for a sharp distinction between “letters” (the letters of the lower classes, seen largely in the recently discovered papyri) and “epistles” (the literary letters of the aristocratic elite). Thus, Adolf Deissmann argued that the forms of NT letters (koine vocabulary, the diatribe, etc.) were indicators of the letter’s intended function: as private letters, they were artless, unschooled, and dashed off in the midst of a flurry of other activities. On the other hand, Cicero intended his “epistles” to Atticus to be read by the broader aristocratic community and thus wrote with that in mind, creating artfully composed treatises in letter form. Although they had the appearance of private letters, Cicero carefully crafted his “epistles,” knowing that others were reading over Atticus’s shoulder. NT letters were not “epistles”; they were spontaneous and should not be read as careful compositions. Yet biblical letters were not merely private documents. Even those addressed to individuals (1–2 Timothy, Titus) seem to speak to the church behind the recipient (3 John attempts to work around Diotrephes and address the church behind Gaius). Our categories of “public” versus “private” fit the ancient world poorly. Since the general function of letters was changing, NT letters should be seen as part of this shifting landscape.

Moreover, as Greco-Roman letters continued to be studied, NT letters seemed more than mere artless notes, scribbled in a spare moment. Indeed, seeing signs of careful rhetorical composition, scholars have noted similarities with categories outlined in Greco-Roman rhetorical handbooks for speeches: forensic (    judicial), epideictic (demonstrative), and deliberative. Arguing that letters were, in a sense, written speeches, various scholars have attempted to identify elements in NT letters that match the required outline for a specific rhetorical argument, meaning that a letter’s rhetorical form could indicate its function. Thus, identifying the rhetorical form would reveal the author’s motive for writing, whether the writer was intending to make a legal defense of personal status or to shape the behavior of the readers. While these studies generate lively debate and some interesting results, the usefulness of applying them to letters is still unclear. Rhetorical analyses of passages in the letters have proved to be more helpful than those categorizing an entire letter. Obviously, biblical letter writers were not writing in a vacuum, but biblical letters seem to mix purposes and not fit neatly into rhetorical categories.

Biblical letters were not dashed off with anything remotely resembling the rapid-fire pace at which email and text messages are sent today. Even phrases that seem to imply casual correspondence (1 Cor. 1:16) are more likely signs of careful rhetorical arguments. It is unlikely that biblical letters represent the work of just a long day or a few evenings. These letters show signs of careful composition (noticed more as scholars better understand ancient rhetoric and epistolary practices). The use of coworkers, secretaries, rough drafts, and revisions suggests that a NT letter was likely worked and reworked before being dispatched.

At 2 Thess. 2:3 various Greek manuscripts speak of either “the man of lawlessness [anomia]” or “the man of sin [hamartia],” by which Paul refers to the antichrist, who will usher in the last days. See also Antichrist; Lawless, Lawlessness.

At 2 Thess. 2:3 various Greek manuscripts speak of either “the man of lawlessness [anomia]” or “the man of sin [hamartia],” by which Paul refers to the antichrist, who will usher in the last days. See also Antichrist; Lawless, Lawlessness.

The Greek word translated in some versions as “perdition” (apōleia) generally means “destruction” (as it is translated in the NIV). Occasionally, however, it is associated with Sheol as a place for the dead. In fact, where the Hebrew texts of Proverbs and Job read “Sheol” and “Abaddon,” the Greek translation reads “Hades” (hadēs) and “Destruction” (apōleia) (e.g., Prov. 15:11; 27:20; Job 26:6; cf. Job 28:22). Furthermore, the author of Revelation eventually personifies the place apōleia as the person Apollyon, king over the Abyss (9:11). Often, wicked people are said to be “characterized by” and consequently “bound for” perdition. For example, in the Greek text of Isaiah the inhabi-tants of Edom are called “people of perdition” and the ungodly leaders of Israel “children of perdition” (34:5; cf. Pss. Sol. 2.31; 3.11). Similarly, Paul considers hardened individuals to be vessels of divine wrath, “prepared for destruction” (Rom. 9:22), and Peter assures his audience that the destruction hanging over the false prophets has not fallen asleep (2 Pet. 2:3). Two figures in particular are referred to traditionally as a “son of perdition”: Judas, who betrayed the Christ (John 17:12; NIV: “the one doomed to destruction”), and the man of lawlessness (2 Thess. 2:3; NIV: “the man doomed to destruction”), often identified as the antichrist. Moreover, in Revelation the beast upon which the whore of Babylon sits is said to ascend from the bottomless pit only ultimately to proceed to destruction (17:8, 11). In popular usage today, “perdition” most often signifies either the eternal damnation of the wicked or the final place of destruction for them.

“Abomination” is a translation of the Hebrew words shiqquts and to’ebah used primarily in the KJV (NIV uses terms such as “detestable,” “desecrated,” and “unclean”). The term shiqquts is used of idols (e.g., 2 Kings 23:13, 24; Jer. 7:30; cf. Ezek. 8:10), forbidden practices (e.g., 2 Kings 23:24), and generally anything contrary to the true worship of Israel’s God (e.g., 2 Chron. 15:8; Isa. 66:3; Jer. 4:1; cf. forbidden foods [Lev. 11:10, 13, 42] and ceremonial defilement [Lev. 7:21]). The term to’ebah includes the prohibition of idol worship (Deut. 7:25; 27:15; 32:16) but can more widely apply to immorality (e.g., Lev. 18:22, 26–27), prophecy that leads to paganism (Deut. 13:13–14), blemished animals offered in sacrifice to Yahweh (Deut. 17:1), and heathen divination (Deut. 18:9, 12).

The “abomination of desolation” (NIV: “abomination that causes desolation), or “desolating sacrifice,” refers to the desecration of the Jerusalem temple. The description occurs or is alluded to in Dan. 8:11; 9:27; 11:31; 12:11; Matt. 24:15; Mark 13:14; Luke 21:20; 2 Thess. 2:4; as well as 1 Macc. 1:54–64. These texts seem to attest to two or three stages of fulfillment of the prophecy.

First, Dan. 8:11; 9:27; 11:31; 12:11; and 1 Macc. 1:54–64 clearly speak of the actions of the Syrian ruler Antiochus IV Epiphanes (175–164 BC) against the Jerusalem temple in 167 BC. He was the younger son of Antiochus III, ruler of the Seleucid Empire. The name “Epiphanes” means “manifest,” implying “manifest as a god.” Antiochus’s ambition was to use the common culture of the Greeks (Hellenism) to unite the diverse Seleucid Empire. In 167 BC, after being repelled from Egypt by the Romans, Antiochus unleashed his fury on Jerusalem. His soldiers attacked the city on the Sabbath, killing much of the male population and enslaving the remaining women and children (1 Macc. 1:29–36; 2 Macc. 5:24–26). There followed the prohibition of all Jewish rites, along with the rededication of the Jewish temple to the Greek god Zeus. Anyone caught reading the Torah, observing the Sabbath and dietary laws, or circumcising their male babies was killed (1 Macc. 1:54–64; Josephus, Ant. 12.248–64). In December of 167 BC the first pagan sacrifice was offered on the altar in the holy of holies in the Jerusalem temple (1 Macc. 1:54).

Antiochus at first met pockets of resistance from faithful Jews who opposed his orders and were therefore martyred (2 Macc. 6:10–7:42). With Mattathias and his five sons, however, open defiance against Antiochus’s policies ensued. Mattathias, a priest in the town of Modein, refused to sacrifice to heathen gods and killed the king’s officer sent to enforce the edict. This incident sparked a Jewish rebellion led by Mattathias’s family (the Maccabees) that culminated in his son Judas’s defeat of Antiochus’s forces in December of 164 BC. At that time Judas reconsecrated the temple to Yahweh, the God of Israel, and Israel resumed the observance of the Jewish law (1 Macc. 4:52–59). Not long thereafter, Antiochus, who had unsuccessfully tried to invade Persia, died of illness in 164 BC (1 Macc. 6:1–17; 2 Macc. 1:13–17; 9:1–29; Josephus, Ant. 12.354–59). Thus, the prophecies of Dan. 8:11; 9:27; 11:31; 12:11 regarding the rise and fall of Antiochus Epiphanes had come true.

Second, Daniel’s prophecy apparently was not completely fulfilled with Antiochus, for Luke 21:20 labels the Roman assault on Jerusalem in AD 70 as the “desolation.” In fact, the Roman destruction of the Holy City and its temple was an intensification of the OT prediction.

Third, some interpreters would extend the application of the prophecy of the abomination of desolation to the distant future. They contend that the ultimate fulfillment of Daniel’s prediction will occur in connection with the end-time temple to be built by Israel, which the antichrist will desecrate. Supporters of this viewpoint appeal to Mark 13:14; Matt. 24:15; 2 Thess. 2:4 (cf. Rev. 11).

Those who identify only two stages of fulfillment for Daniel’s prophecy understand Mark 13:14 and Matt. 24:15 to pertain not to a future end-time temple but to the fall of Jerusalem in AD 70 (cf. Luke 21:20). Furthermore, they see in 2 Thess. 2:4 an allusion to the emperor Ca­lig­ula’s (Gaius) plan to place a statue of himself in the Jerusalem temple in AD 40 (which, because of his assassination, did not occur).

“Abomination” is a translation of the Hebrew words shiqquts and to’ebah used primarily in the KJV (NIV uses terms such as “detestable,” “desecrated,” and “unclean”). The term shiqquts is used of idols (e.g., 2 Kings 23:13, 24; Jer. 7:30; cf. Ezek. 8:10), forbidden practices (e.g., 2 Kings 23:24), and generally anything contrary to the true worship of Israel’s God (e.g., 2 Chron. 15:8; Isa. 66:3; Jer. 4:1; cf. forbidden foods [Lev. 11:10, 13, 42] and ceremonial defilement [Lev. 7:21]). The term to’ebah includes the prohibition of idol worship (Deut. 7:25; 27:15; 32:16) but can more widely apply to immorality (e.g., Lev. 18:22, 26–27), prophecy that leads to paganism (Deut. 13:13–14), blemished animals offered in sacrifice to Yahweh (Deut. 17:1), and heathen divination (Deut. 18:9, 12).

The “abomination of desolation” (NIV: “abomination that causes desolation), or “desolating sacrifice,” refers to the desecration of the Jerusalem temple. The description occurs or is alluded to in Dan. 8:11; 9:27; 11:31; 12:11; Matt. 24:15; Mark 13:14; Luke 21:20; 2 Thess. 2:4; as well as 1 Macc. 1:54–64. These texts seem to attest to two or three stages of fulfillment of the prophecy.

First, Dan. 8:11; 9:27; 11:31; 12:11; and 1 Macc. 1:54–64 clearly speak of the actions of the Syrian ruler Antiochus IV Epiphanes (175–164 BC) against the Jerusalem temple in 167 BC. He was the younger son of Antiochus III, ruler of the Seleucid Empire. The name “Epiphanes” means “manifest,” implying “manifest as a god.” Antiochus’s ambition was to use the common culture of the Greeks (Hellenism) to unite the diverse Seleucid Empire. In 167 BC, after being repelled from Egypt by the Romans, Antiochus unleashed his fury on Jerusalem. His soldiers attacked the city on the Sabbath, killing much of the male population and enslaving the remaining women and children (1 Macc. 1:29–36; 2 Macc. 5:24–26). There followed the prohibition of all Jewish rites, along with the rededication of the Jewish temple to the Greek god Zeus. Anyone caught reading the Torah, observing the Sabbath and dietary laws, or circumcising their male babies was killed (1 Macc. 1:54–64; Josephus, Ant. 12.248–64). In December of 167 BC the first pagan sacrifice was offered on the altar in the holy of holies in the Jerusalem temple (1 Macc. 1:54).

Antiochus at first met pockets of resistance from faithful Jews who opposed his orders and were therefore martyred (2 Macc. 6:10–7:42). With Mattathias and his five sons, however, open defiance against Antiochus’s policies ensued. Mattathias, a priest in the town of Modein, refused to sacrifice to heathen gods and killed the king’s officer sent to enforce the edict. This incident sparked a Jewish rebellion led by Mattathias’s family (the Maccabees) that culminated in his son Judas’s defeat of Antiochus’s forces in December of 164 BC. At that time Judas reconsecrated the temple to Yahweh, the God of Israel, and Israel resumed the observance of the Jewish law (1 Macc. 4:52–59). Not long thereafter, Antiochus, who had unsuccessfully tried to invade Persia, died of illness in 164 BC (1 Macc. 6:1–17; 2 Macc. 1:13–17; 9:1–29; Josephus, Ant. 12.354–59). Thus, the prophecies of Dan. 8:11; 9:27; 11:31; 12:11 regarding the rise and fall of Antiochus Epiphanes had come true.

Second, Daniel’s prophecy apparently was not completely fulfilled with Antiochus, for Luke 21:20 labels the Roman assault on Jerusalem in AD 70 as the “desolation.” In fact, the Roman destruction of the Holy City and its temple was an intensification of the OT prediction.

Third, some interpreters would extend the application of the prophecy of the abomination of desolation to the distant future. They contend that the ultimate fulfillment of Daniel’s prediction will occur in connection with the end-time temple to be built by Israel, which the antichrist will desecrate. Supporters of this viewpoint appeal to Mark 13:14; Matt. 24:15; 2 Thess. 2:4 (cf. Rev. 11).

Those who identify only two stages of fulfillment for Daniel’s prophecy understand Mark 13:14 and Matt. 24:15 to pertain not to a future end-time temple but to the fall of Jerusalem in AD 70 (cf. Luke 21:20). Furthermore, they see in 2 Thess. 2:4 an allusion to the emperor Ca­lig­ula’s (Gaius) plan to place a statue of himself in the Jerusalem temple in AD 40 (which, because of his assassination, did not occur).

Any contemptuous expression that rejects God’s authority and questions his nature. In the OT, three words primarily convey this sense of utterly offensive speech or action.

The first, na’ats, means “to speak or act with contempt,” rejecting God’s authority (Num. 14:23; Deut. 31:20). Blasphemers include wicked enemies who mock God (Pss. 10:3, 13; 74:18), and God’s people who reject the authority of his word (Isa. 1:4; 5:24). The second, gadap, is synonymous with na’ats. When Sennacherib’s field commander publically undermined the people’s confidence in God, Isaiah prophesied that Sennacherib would suffer divine punishment for this blasphemy (2 Kings 19:5–7; Isa. 37:6–7). It also refers to actions that defy and thus blaspheme God (Num. 15:30). The third, naqab, literally means “to pierce a hole” and indicates the intent to cause damage. It appears twice in Lev. 24:15–16 in conjunction with cursing God; the penalty is death.

This provides the foundation for the NT material. When the Pharisees wrongfully attributed Jesus’ power to drive out demons to Beelzebul, Jesus declared that every sin and blasphemy would be forgiven, even speaking a word against the Son of Man, but not blaspheming or speaking against the Holy Spirit (Matt. 12:22–32). The Spirit’s work was evident in the powerful demonstration they had seen. To attribute Jesus’ work to Satan was a complete affront to the majesty of God.

When this “son of man” claimed divine power and attributes, some of the Jewish leaders accused him of blasphemy. In the OT, blasphemy involved denigrating the majesty, authority, and power of God. Although Jesus did not say anything contemptuous of God, his audience thought that he had blasphemed God on several occasions. Early in his ministry he claimed to forgive sins when he healed the paralyzed man. The response of the Pharisees and teachers of the law was to think, “Who is this fellow who speaks blasphemy? Who can forgive sins but God alone?” (Luke 5:21). The Gospel of John records ongoing tension between Jesus and his opponents. They were prepared to stone him “for blasphemy, because you, a mere man, claim to be God” (John 10:33). Finally, when Caiaphas put Jesus under oath before the Sanhedrin to declare if he was the Christ, the Son of the living God, Jesus responded by referring to Dan. 7:13–14 and Ps. 110:1: they would see the Son of Man seated at the right hand of God and coming on the clouds of heaven (Matt. 26:64–66 pars.). In their minds, this was clearly blasphemous (see John 19:7).

Stephen was accused of speaking words of blasphemy against Moses and God (Acts 6:11), and Saul of Tarsus, in his vendetta against Christians, went from one synagogue to another trying to force early Christians to blaspheme (Acts 26:11). Later, knowing that he was “the worst of sinners,” he acknowledged that he was a “blasphemer and a persecutor and a violent man” (1 Tim. 1:13–16). Knowing the seriousness of the offense, Paul declared that he handed Hymenaeus and Alexander over to Satan so they would be taught not to blaspheme (1 Tim. 1:20).

The source of all blasphemy will make its appearance in the final eschatological confrontation: on the heads of the beast will be a blasphemous name (Rev. 13:1; cf. 17:3), and it will utter blasphemy against God, his temple, and his people (13:5, 6). Paul describes this same scenario in 2 Thess. 2:3–4, where “the man of lawlessness” sets himself up in God’s temple, proclaiming himself to be God. Finally, when the bowls of wrath are poured out on the earth, those who refuse to repent will curse God (Rev. 16:9, 11, 21), the final blasphemy.

The law warns against those who claim to speak for God but whose words are not from God. Such false prophets are exposed when their predictions go unfulfilled, but even a prophet who makes true predictions is false if he or she encourages idolatry. False prophets must be put to death (Deut. 13:1–5; 18:20–22).

During the monarchy, some false prophets blatantly promoted Baalism (1 Kings 18:19; Jer. 2:8; 23:13). Others seemed orthodox but, motivated by greed (Jer. 6:13; 8:10; Mic. 3:5, 11; cf. Luke 6:26), actually said whatever people wanted to hear (1 Kings 22:6; cf. 2 Chron. 18:5; 28; Isa. 30:10; Jer. 5:31; Ezek. 22:27–28). A frequent mark of these prophets was that they stressed God’s faithfulness to promises of blessing while ignoring his faithfulness to promises of judgment. According to them, Israel would never be defeated, however much the people sinned (Jer. 6:14; 8:11; 23:17; Ezek. 13:10, 16; Mic. 2:6); the false prophets themselves set an example of licentiousness (Isa. 28:7; Jer. 23:14–15). Ironically, the complacency that this engendered increased Israel’s danger (Jer. 14:13–16; 23:19–22; 27:9–18; Lam. 2:14; Ezek. 13:5).

Often direct confrontations took place between true and false prophets (e.g., 1 Kings 18; Neh. 6:14; Jer. 20:1–6; 26:8–11; 28–29; Mic. 2:6). The true prophets pleaded with Israel to reject false prophecy (Jer. 23:16; 29:8–9). They pronounced judgment on both the prophets and their followers (Isa. 9:14–15; Jer. 2:26; 4:9; 8:1; 13:13; 23:33–39; 50:36; Ezek. 13; Zeph. 3:4; Zech. 13:2–6). False prophets would become blind to the truth they denied and become unable to prophesy at all (Isa. 29:10; Ezek. 7:26; Mic. 3:6). Their false predictions would be frustrated (Isa. 44:25; Jer. 37:19), and in particular the exile that they said would never happen was now inevitable (Jer. 14:15–18).

False prophecy was as much a danger in the NT era as it was in the OT. Jesus warned that “wolves in sheep’s clothing” would continue to lead many astray. Some would either promote the worship of false messiahs or even pretend to be the Messiah (Matt. 24:23–24; Mark 13:21–22), but, as ever, they could be identified by their “fruit” (Matt. 7:15–23; 24:11).

Paul said that any so-called prophet who opposed his own teaching, or who taught error while claiming that the teaching came from Paul himself, was false (1 Cor. 14:37; 2 Thess. 2:2; cf. 2 Cor. 11:4; Gal. 1:8). Luke called Elymas the sorcerer, who opposed Paul, a false prophet (Acts 13:6–12). More generally, Peter saw all heretical teachers as direct successors of the false prophets of the OT, denying the Lord and exploiting the people for gain (2 Pet. 2:1). They replicate the error of Balaam (2 Pet. 2:15–16). For John, the particular mark of the false prophet was the denial that Jesus is the Christ (1 John 4:1–3). The third figure in the bestial false trinity in John’s Revelation is called “the false prophet” (Rev. 16:13; 19:20; 20:10) and entices men and women to worship the dragon rather than Jesus.

In biblical and systematic theology, “inspiration” is one of several descriptions of God’s involvement in the production of Scripture. It is not an exhaustive description of the many ways in which divine revelation is mediated.

Taken as a description of “all Scripture” (as in 2 Tim. 3:16), inspiration must necessarily encompass such diverse modes of revelation as words audibly spoken or dictated by God and written down by humans (i.e., dictation: “the Lord said to Moses,” “thus says the Lord”), words spoken by angels, texts in which a divine or angelic voice is entirely obscured by the voice and identity of the human author (e.g., the letters of Paul), and, in the vast majority of cases, texts that are essentially anonymous, invoking no human author or divine author in particular. Moreover, any catalog of divinely inspired texts must include not only direct quotations of God’s speech but also occasional letters (the NT Epistles), prayers directed to God by humans (the Psalter), divine oracles given through prophets, the results of historical research (e.g., Luke 1:1–4; 1 Kings 14:19), and anthological texts that were collected and edited over a long period of time, often by unnamed individuals or groups of individuals.

Thus, the inspiration of Scripture must be regarded as a concept that is applied in the broadest possible way to the materials of Scripture. While the doctrine of inspiration constitutes a strong statement concerning the authority and divine authorship of Scripture, it must remain highly flexible with regard to the particular modes and literary products of divine revelation in Scripture.

God-Breathed (theopneustos) in 2 Timothy 3:16

The idea of divine inspiration is stated most clearly in 2 Tim. 3:16–17: “All Scripture is God-breathed [theopneustos] and is useful for teaching, rebuking, correcting and training in righteousness, so that the servant of God may be thoroughly equipped for every good work.” Here, the fact of divine inspiration serves the apostle’s interest in the authority and relevance of Scripture, especially as Scripture undergirds Timothy’s religious education (2 Tim. 3:14–15). This sole biblical use of the term theopneustos says little about how inspiration is accomplished, and the emphasis is entirely on the consequences of the fact. Because it is inspired, all Scripture is useful and authoritative for a variety of purposes.

In some older English translations, the key term, theopneustos, was translated as “inspired,” following the ancient tradition of rendering the term in Latin as divinitus inspirata. Strictly speaking, “inspiration” is not a biblical term. In one classic Protestant evangelical exposition of the text and doctrine, B. B. Warfield noted that the Greek word denotes not so much a “breathing in” as a “breathing out” on God’s part. Scripture is not simply a container into which God has breathed his word (so that Scripture merely “contains” God’s word), nor is Scripture only “inspiring,” in the sense that it works an effect on the reader (taking theopneustos in an active rather than a passive sense: “God-breathing” rather than “God-breathed”). Scripture is not the product of inspiration, as if produced by inspired authors but not itself inspired. Rather than all these things, it is most correct to say that Scripture is, in the strictly literal sense of the word, “expired”—breathed out by God himself. This view of the matter is reflected in, among other places, the NIV translation of theopneustos as “God-breathed.”

The translation by the NIV—“all Scripture is God-breathed and is useful . . .”—takes theopneustos as a grammatical predicate. Others have suggested that theopneustos can be understood attributively: “all God-breathed Scripture is useful.” This interpretation remains a minority position, especially among evangelical scholars, both on grammatical grounds and because it implies a distinction between inspired and noninspired Scriptures. There is little other evidence for such a notion in the NT.

The application of the notion of inspiration to the whole of the Christian canon (OT and NT) inevitably involves some extension of the original meaning of 2 Tim. 3:16. By no account were the NT writings either composed or collected prior to the writing of 2 Timothy, and the final shape of the Christian OT canon may also have been undecided at the time 2 Tim. 3:16 was written. In postbiblical Christian theology, however, what is said of “all Scripture” (pāsa graphē) in 2 Tim. 3:16 is applied to all Christian Scripture, regardless of what was directly in view when the verse was written. It is likely that by “all Scripture,” the apostle meant nothing more than the Christian OT—that is, the books that lay before Timothy as he was educated in the faith from his infancy (2 Tim. 3:14–15). In systematic theology, the application of inspiration and other descriptors of “Scripture” to the NT writings owes much to a comment in 2 Pet. 3:16 that places the letters of Paul in the same class as “the other Scriptures” (tas loipas graphas).

Why “Inspiration”?

The sheer diversity of the modes of revelation described in the Bible raises a question: Why is “inspiration” (or, as Warfield argued, “expiration” or “breathing out”) a particularly appropriate description of God’s involvement in the production of the scriptural text? At the root of theopneustos, Greek pneuma (as well as its Hebrew cognate, ruakh) denotes several related concepts ranging from “wind” or “breath” to “spirit,” as in “the Holy Spirit.” It is from this complex of meanings that the relevance of theopneustos is evident.

Physiologically, several of the speech organs are also organs of respiration, so that the spoken word can be thought of as a kind of breathing, as in Acts 9:1: “Saul was still breathing out [empneuōn] murderous threats against the Lord’s disciples.” To speak of Scripture as “God-breathed,” then, is simply to identify it as God’s spoken utterance or word, as in the many biblical texts that introduce a scriptural utterance as “the word of the Lord” or with the phrase “thus says the Lord.” To the extent that 2 Tim. 3:16 has in view the physiological dimension of “breathing,” it extends these explicit statements of divine speaking to the whole of Scripture. In one sense, theopneustos is an anthropomorphism: God does not speak as a human, with lungs, throat, and mouth. Scripture is not God-breathed as opposed to being written by humans; the figurative breathing or speaking of God does not circumvent other processes of textual production. Again, the idea of inspiration pertains more to the authority of Scripture as revelation than to the mode of the mediation of God’s word.

As with the concept of “inspiration” itself, to speak of Scripture as the “word of God” specifies its divine authority without exhaustively describing how that word is mediated to the human author who then commits it to writing. To speak of Scripture as the “breathing out” of God is to invoke the broader concept of God’s (anthropomorphic) breath, and thus to place scriptural production among the other phenomena that are so described. These include the divine creation of life (Gen. 2:7; Job 33:4; Ezek. 37:5) and the cosmos (Ps. 33:6), divine judgment and destruction (Job 4:9; Isa. 30:33; 2 Thess. 2:8), the impartation of divine wisdom (Job 32:8), the impartation of the Holy Spirit (John 20:22), and the continuing action of God in creation (Exod. 15:10; Job 37:10; Isa. 40:7). In contrast to the living God of Israel, the idols lack breath (ruakh) and are therefore false gods (Jer. 10:14).

Equally important as the anthropomorphic description of God’s role as exhalation or speaking is the fact that pneuma refers not only to bodily breathing but also to the spirit of God—that is, the Holy Spirit. The inspiration of scriptural revelation is the particular work of the Holy Spirit, as comes to light particularly in 2 Pet. 1:20–21: “You must understand that no prophecy of Scripture came about by the prophet’s own interpretation of things. For prophecy never had its origin in the human will, but prophets, though human, spoke from God as they were carried along by the Holy Spirit.” Unlike 2 Tim. 3:16, this verse gives a description of the mechanism by which God is involved in scriptural production: the Holy Spirit “carries along” humans speaking from God. Again, however, if this is to be taken as a description of the entirety of the Christian Bible, it must encompass a wide variety of literary phenomena.

As in 2 Tim. 3:16, the emphasis is on the authority and divine origin of Scripture rather than on the worldly history of the Bible. Like the adjective “God-breathed,” the Holy Spirit’s “carrying along” of the prophets is figurative and anthropomorphic, and the expression leaves many questions unanswered regarding the mode of revelation. Nevertheless, the specific mention of the role of the Holy Spirit as the divine agent of scriptural production sheds light on the term theopneustos in 2 Tim. 3:16. This is consistent with the citation formula in Acts 4:25, which quotes Ps. 2:1–2 by saying, “You [God] spoke by the Holy Spirit through the mouth of your servant, our father David.” This verse highlights several facets of the notion of the inspiration of Scripture: its character as divine speech, the agency of the Holy Spirit, and the concurrence of divine and human authorship.

A Pharisee commissioned by Jesus Christ to preach the gospel to Gentiles. His Jewish name was “Saul” (Acts 9:4; 13:9), but he preferred using his Roman name, especially when he signed his letters. Actually, “Paul” was his last name. Roman citizens had three names; the last name was the family name, called the “cognomen.” We do not know Paul’s first and middle Roman name, but his last name is derived from the Latin Paulus (Sergius Paulus, the proconsul of Cyprus, had the same family name [13:7]). Most people were known and called by their last name because group identity was more important in the first-century Mediterranean world than individual recognition. For example, when speaking publicly, Paul did not use his favorite self-designations, “apostle to the Gentiles” or “slave of Christ Jesus”; instead, he identified himself as a Jew, a citizen of Tarsus, a student of Gamaliel (21:39; 22:3). His social identity was embedded in his ethnicity, his nativity, his religion. However, even those categories cannot adequately describe Paul. He was a Jew but also a Roman citizen. Tarsus was his home (11:25–26), but he claimed that he was brought up in Jerusalem. He spoke Aramaic but wrote Greek letters. He was once a Pharisee but then preached a circumcision-free gospel to Gentiles. In many respects, Paul is an enigma. Who was he? What did he believe? Why did he think he had to leave his previous life in Judaism to become the apostle to the Gentiles? Why is he one of the major contributors to the NT even though he was not a follower of the historical Jesus?

Paul’s Life

Paul as a converted Pharisee. Paul spent the first half of his life as a Pharisee. The Pharisees were a Jewish sect that emphasized obedience to the law of God as the means of maintaining holiness. Practically all Jews believed that they should obey the law, but what made the Pharisees unique was their emphasis on applying all commandments, even those intended only for Levites and priests, to all Jews. For example, priests were required to keep certain rituals of hand washing before they ate (Lev. 22:1–9; cf. Exod 30:19–21; 40:31–32). So the Pharisees extended these requirements to all Israel in order to show God how serious they were about obeying the law (Mark 7:3–4). Obedience was crucial to God’s blessing; disobedience brought God’s curse. Therefore, the Pharisees established many traditions, going beyond the letter of the law, to ensure compliance. To what extent the Jewish people followed the example of the Pharisees is debated, but certainly it appeared to the people that no one was more zealous for God and his law than the Pharisees—a zeal that would compel them to join in the stoning of obvious offenders (Lev. 24:14; Acts 7:58). As a Pharisee, Paul’s zeal for the law led him to persecute Jewish Christians, not only in Jerusalem but also outside Israel, in places such as Damascus (Acts 8:3; 9:1–3; 22:4–5; Gal. 1:13–14; Phil. 3:6). Neither Paul nor Luke explains what the Pharisees found objectionable about this Jewish movement known as “the Way.” In fact, Paul’s teacher, Gamaliel, advised the Sanhedrin to ignore members of the Way and not make trouble for them (Acts 5:34–39)—advice obviously not taken by Paul. Perhaps it was Jesus’ reputation as a lawbreaker or the fact that he had died a cursed death according to the law that convinced Paul to imprison Jesus’ disciples (Deut. 21:23). Whatever the reason, Paul saw his role as persecutor of the church as the ultimate proof of his blamelessness under the law (Phil. 3:6).

After Christ appeared to Paul on the road to Damascus, everything changed: his life, his mission, his worldview (Acts 9:3–30). Paul left Pharisaism and immediately began preaching the gospel (Gal. 1:11–17). Those whom he persecuted were now friends. His zeal for the law was replaced by his zeal for Christ. It was a radical reversal. The rumor spread quickly: “The man who formerly persecuted us is now preaching the faith he once tried to destroy” (Gal. 1:23). Why the sudden change? Some think that it is what Paul saw—the glorified Messiah—that changed his perspective. The resurrection of Christ turned the curse of the cross into a blessing, death into life, shame into honor. The appearance of Christ (Christophany) was a revelation, an apocalypse, an end-of-the-world event for Paul. Old things passed away; everything became new (2 Cor. 5:17). What was divided under the old age of the law—Jews and Gentiles, male and female, slave and free—was united in Christ. Other scholars emphasize it is what Paul heard during the Christophany that changed the course of his life. Paul interpreted Christ’s charge, “Go, preach to the Gentiles,” as a prophetic calling, perhaps even fulfilling Isaiah’s end-time vision of salvation of the whole world (Isa. 49:1–7; Gal. 1:15–16). Thus, Paul’s westward push to take the gospel to the coastlands (Spain) was by divine design (Rom. 15:15–24). God commissioned Saul the Pharisee of the Jews to become Paul the apostle to the Gentiles because “the culmination of the ages has come” (1 Cor. 10:11).

Paul’s ministry. By our best estimates, Paul spent about thirty years preaching the gospel of Jesus Christ (AD 34–67)—a ministry that can be divided roughly into three decades. The first decade of his ministry (AD 34–46) has been called the “silent years,” as we have few details from Acts or the Pauline Epistles about his activities. For example, we know that he preached in Damascus for a while and spent some time in Arabia (a total of three years [Gal. 1:17–18]). He made a quick trip to Jerusalem to meet Peter and James the brother of Jesus. Then he returned home to Tarsus, evidently preaching there for several years, until Barnabas brought him to Antioch in Syria to help with the ministry of this mixed congregation of Jews and Gentiles (Acts 9:26–30; 11:25–26). In the second decade of his ministry (AD 46–59), Paul spent most of his life on the road, an itinerant ministry of preaching the gospel and planting churches from Cyprus to Corinth. For most of the third decade (AD 59–67), Paul ministered the gospel from prison, spending over two years imprisoned in Caesarea, another two to three years in a Roman prison (Acts ends here), released for a brief time (two years?) before his final arrest and imprisonment in Rome, where, according to church tradition, he was executed.

During his itinerant ministry, Paul traveled Roman roads that led him to free cities (Ephesus, Thessalonica, Athens) and Roman colonies (Pisidian Antioch, Iconium, Lystra, Derbe, Troas, Philippi, Corinth). Founding churches in urban centers afforded Paul more opportunities for ministry and for his work of making and repairing tents. Traveling within the borders of the Roman Empire also provided a better chance of protection as a citizen. At first, Paul and Barnabas covered familiar territory: Cyprus (Barnabas’s home region) and Anatolia (Paul’s home region). Then, with successive journeys Paul and other missionary companions branched out to Asia Minor, Macedonia, and Achaia. Some of the towns that Paul visited were small and provincial (Derbe, Lystra); others were major cities of great economic and intellectual commerce (Ephesus, Corinth, Athens). In the midst of such cultural diversity, Paul found receptive ears among a variety of ethnic groups: Gauls, Phrygians and Lycaonians, Greeks, Romans, and Jews. Previously, Paul’s Gentile converts had worshiped many gods (local, ethnic, and imperial), offered sacrifices at many shrines and temples, and joined in all the religious festivals (often involving immoral and ungodly practices). After believing the gospel, Paul’s predominantly Gentile churches turned from their idolatrous ways to serve “the living and true God” (1 Thess. 1:9). Their exclusive devotion to one God quickly led to economic and political problems, for both Paul’s converts and the cities of their residence. No more offerings for patron gods, no more support for local synagogues or the imperial cult—Paul’s converts were often persecuted for their newly found faith by local religious guilds (idol makers!) and civic leaders courting Roman favor (Acts 17:6–9; 19:23–41; Phil. 1:27–30; 1 Thess. 2:14–16). Indeed, Paul often was run out of town as a troublemaker who preached a message that threatened both the Jewish and the Roman ways of life (Acts 16:19–24; Phil. 3:17–4:1). It is no wonder that Paul’s activities eventually landed him in a Roman prison. It was only a matter of time before his reputation as a “lawbreaker” caught up with him (Acts 21:21). But that did not stop Paul. Whether as a prisoner or a free man, Paul proclaimed the gospel of Jesus Christ until the day he died.

Paul’s Gospel

The sources of Paul’s gospel. Paul ministered his entire life without the benefit of literary Gospels. Most scholars think that the earliest Gospel, Mark, was written about the time that Paul was martyred. Since Paul was not a disciple of Jesus and probably never heard him speak or witnessed his earthly ministry, how did Paul know what to preach? Where did Paul get his gospel? Paul mentioned four sources. First, he received oral traditions about Jesus from other Christians (1 Cor. 15:1–7). For him, hearing what happened during the Lord’s Supper from those who followed Jesus was the same as receiving it from the Lord (1 Cor. 11:23). Second, the Hebrew Scriptures were a major source of Paul’s gospel (Acts 17:2). Illumined by the Holy Spirit, Paul saw the gospel proclaimed in the law (Rom. 10:6–8) and predicted by the prophets (15:12). Third, in addition to the Christophany on the road to Damascus, Paul experienced revelations of Christ as epiphanies of the gospel (Acts 18:9–10; 26:18). This gave Paul the authority to claim that he received his gospel preeminently from Christ (Gal. 1:1, 16; 2:2). Fourth, Paul saw life experiences as a resource for the gospel (2 Cor. 12:7–10). As Paul made sense of what happened to him, he shared these insights with his converts as proof that “Christ is speaking through me” (2 Cor. 13:3–4). Indeed, Paul’s ways of doing the gospel were to be taught in all the churches as gospel truth (1 Cor. 4:17), because as far as Paul was concerned, the gospel of Jesus Christ was the gospel according to Paul.

The death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. The center of Paul’s gospel was the death and resurrection of Jesus. The essence of what he preached was “Jesus Christ and him crucified” (1 Cor. 2:2). Furthermore, the resurrection of Christ was indispensable to the gospel that Paul proclaimed. Without the resurrection, Paul argued, faith in Christ would be vain because believers would still be dead in their sins with no hope of life after death—the resurrection of their bodies (1 Cor. 15:13–19). Exploring the center, Paul used several metaphors drawn from everyday life to explain the significance of Christ’s work on the cross. Paul used legal terms such as “justification”/“righteousness,” “law,” and “condemnation” when he explained how sinners are justified by faith in Christ. Paul described the implications of Christ’s death in religious terms, using words such as “sacrifice,” “sin,” “propitiation”/“expiation” (NIV: “sacrifice of atonement”), and “temple,” which would make sense to both Jews and Gentiles. He also borrowed words from the world of commerce, such as “redemption,” “purchase,” and “slave,” especially when he emphasized the obedience of Christ, of Paul, of all believers. He even used military terms to describe how God turned enemies into friends through the cross: the “reconciliation” that came through the “victory” of Christ’s death when he “disarmed” the “powers.”

Paul also relied heavily on Jewish theology as he sorted out the work of God in Christ Jesus. Paul was a monotheist but attributed divine status to Jesus (Phil. 2:6). Paul believed that Israel was God’s chosen people but maintained that his Gentile converts were the elect, calling them the “Israel of God” (Gal. 6:16). Paul affirmed the law was holy but argued that holiness came only through the indwelling Spirit (Rom. 7:12; 1 Thess. 4:7–8). Paul believed that the Messiah’s appearance would bring about the end of the world but looked forward to Christ’s parousia (“appearance”) at the end of time. In other words, the person and work of Christ formed the lens through which Paul interpreted the Bible and made sense of the world. Indeed, Paul’s gospel was built on a foundation of Jewish doctrine, Jesus tradition, and religious experience.

A way of life. For Paul, the gospel was more than a set of beliefs; it was a way of life. To believe in Christ Jesus not only entailed accepting his sacrificial death as atonement for sin but also meant following Christ by taking up his cross—a life of sacrifice. Paul believed that he experienced the cross of Christ every time he endured hardship, every time he was persecuted, every time he suffered loss (Phil. 3:7–11). And it was in the crucified life that Paul found resurrection power (3:12–21). The gospel was the divine paradigm for living. What happened to Christ is what happened to Paul, and what happened to Paul is what would happen to all his converts. “Follow my example,” he wrote, “as I follow the example of Christ” (1 Cor. 11:1). In fact, Paul believed that all Christians were constantly being conformed to the image of God’s Son (Rom. 8:29). He was convinced that God would finish what he had started: the perfecting of his converts until the day of Christ’s return and the resurrection of every believer (Phil. 1:6; 3:21). The only thing that his converts needed to imitate Christ was the indwelling power of his Spirit (the Holy Spirit), the example of Paul’s life, and a letter every now and then from their apostle.

Paul’s Letters

Paul sent letters to churches and individuals to inform his converts of his situation, offer encouragement, answer questions, and address problems that developed while he was away. There are thirteen letters of Paul in the New Testament. Nine were written to churches or groups of churches (Romans; 1 and 2 Corinthians; Galatians; Ephesians; Philippians; Colossions; 1 and 2 Thessalonians) and four to individuals (1 and 2 Timothy; Titus; Philemon).

Paul the apostle. In most of his letters, Paul was on the defense: defending his apostleship, defending his itinerary, defending his gospel. Evidently, Paul’s opponents questioned whether Paul deserved to be called “apostle,” since he had not followed the historical Jesus and used to persecute the church (1 Cor. 15:8–9). According to Acts, when the first Christians decided to replace Judas Iscariot as one of the twelve apostles, they established the following criterion: the candidate must have been a follower of Jesus from his baptism to his ascension (Acts 1:21–22). Two men were qualified; one was chosen by divine lot, implying that there could be only twelve. Did the early church’s decision to recognize only twelve apostles define apostleship once and for all? Paul did not think so. He recognized the significance of the Twelve, but he believed that there were other apostles as well: Bar-na-bas, James the brother of Jesus, and himself (1 Cor. 15:5–9; Gal. 2:8–9). Paul knew that there were false apostles causing trouble in the churches (2 Cor. 11:13), some even carrying “letters of recommendation” (2 Cor. 3:1). But only those who had seen the resurrected Christ and were commissioned by him to preach the gospel were legitimate apostles (1 Cor. 9:1–2). The signs of apostleship were evident when the commission was fulfilled: planting churches and dispensing the Spirit (2 Cor. 3:2; 12:12; Gal. 3:5). Of all people, Paul’s converts should have never questioned the authority of their apostle. They were the proof of his apostleship.

Although Paul never mentioned this, the fact that he sent letters is evidence of his apostleship. Paul believed that the obedience of Gentile converts was his responsibility, a confirmation of his calling (Rom. 15:18–19). So he sent letters to make sure that they were keeping the traditions that he had taught them (1 Cor. 11:2). Sometimes, all that his readers needed was a little encouragement to keep up the good work (most of 1 Thessalonians and 2 Timothy are exhortations to keep doing what they were doing) or a more detailed explanation of what they already knew (Ephesians, Philippians, 1 Timothy, Titus). Many times, Paul sent letters to correct major problems within his churches. For example, some of the Galatians were submitting to the law and being circumcised (Gal. 4:21; 5:2–7). Some of the Colossians were involved in strange practices of asceticism and angel worship (Col. 2:16–23). Some of the Thessalonians had quit working for a living (2 Thess. 3:6–15). And, worst of all, the Corinthians were plagued with all kinds of problems: factions, lawsuits, incest, prostitutes, idolatry. Some of the Corinthians were also espousing false theological ideas, such as denying the resurrection (1 Cor. 15:12). Other churches had problems sorting out Paul’s theology as well. For example, the Thessalonians were confused about life after death, end times, and the return of Christ (1 Thess. 4:13–18; 2 Thess. 2:1–12), and the Romans needed, among other things, instruction about the role of Israel in the last days (Rom. 9:1–11:32). The fact that Paul felt obliged to send his lengthiest letter, loaded with some of his most sophisticated theological arguments, to the church in Rome, which he did not start and had not visited, says much about the way Paul saw the authority of his apostleship. Because he was the apostle to the Gentiles, Paul operated as if he were the mentor of all churches with Gentile members.

Church unity. Paul believed in the unity of the church. Indeed, he used several metaphors to help his readers see why it was important that one Lord and one faith should form one church. He described the church as a temple (1 Cor. 3:16–17), a family (Eph. 2:19), and a body—his favorite metaphor (1 Cor. 12:12–27). He warned of desecrating the temple with divisive teaching and immoral behavior (1 Cor. 3:1–6:20). He rebuked his children when they refused to obey him as their father (1 Cor. 3:14–21) or mother (Gal. 4:19–20). And, more than any other analogy, Paul likened the church to a human body that could be maimed by prejudice and threatened by sickness (1 Cor. 11:17–34). To him, a dismembered body was an unholy body; a segregated church meant that Christ was divided (1 Cor. 1:10–13). The ethnic, religious, social, political, geographical, and economic differences evident in one of the most diverse collections of people in the first-century Mediterranean world made Paul’s vision of a unified church appear like an impossible dream. Yet the apostle to the Gentiles believed that the unity of the body of Christ was indispensable not only to his mission but also to the gospel of Jesus Christ (Eph. 4:1–6). So he collected a relief offering among his Gentile converts to help poor Jewish Christians in Jerusalem (Rom. 15:26–27). He taught masters to treat their slaves like siblings (Philem. 16). And he solicited Romans to fund his mission trip to Spain (Rom. 15:24). As far as Paul was concerned, the gospel brought down every wall that divides humanity because all people need salvation in Christ (Eph. 2:14–18).

Conclusion

Paul was a tentmaker, a missionary, a writer, a preacher, a teacher, a theologian, an evangelist, a mentor, a prophet, a miracle worker, a prisoner, and a martyr. His life story reads like the tale of three different men: a devout Pharisee, a tireless traveler, an ambitious writer. He knew the Scriptures better than did most people. He saw more of the world than did most merchants. He wrote some of the longest letters known at that time. To his converts, he was a faithful friend. To his opponents, he was an irrepressible troublemaker. But, according to Paul, he was nothing more or less than the man whom God had called through Jesus Christ to take the gospel to the ends of the earth.

A Pharisee commissioned by Jesus Christ to preach the gospel to Gentiles. His Jewish name was “Saul” (Acts 9:4; 13:9), but he preferred using his Roman name, especially when he signed his letters. Actually, “Paul” was his last name. Roman citizens had three names; the last name was the family name, called the “cognomen.” We do not know Paul’s first and middle Roman name, but his last name is derived from the Latin Paulus (Sergius Paulus, the proconsul of Cyprus, had the same family name [13:7]). Most people were known and called by their last name because group identity was more important in the first-century Mediterranean world than individual recognition. For example, when speaking publicly, Paul did not use his favorite self-designations, “apostle to the Gentiles” or “slave of Christ Jesus”; instead, he identified himself as a Jew, a citizen of Tarsus, a student of Gamaliel (21:39; 22:3). His social identity was embedded in his ethnicity, his nativity, his religion. However, even those categories cannot adequately describe Paul. He was a Jew but also a Roman citizen. Tarsus was his home (11:25–26), but he claimed that he was brought up in Jerusalem. He spoke Aramaic but wrote Greek letters. He was once a Pharisee but then preached a circumcision-free gospel to Gentiles. In many respects, Paul is an enigma. Who was he? What did he believe? Why did he think he had to leave his previous life in Judaism to become the apostle to the Gentiles? Why is he one of the major contributors to the NT even though he was not a follower of the historical Jesus?

Paul’s Life

Paul as a converted Pharisee. Paul spent the first half of his life as a Pharisee. The Pharisees were a Jewish sect that emphasized obedience to the law of God as the means of maintaining holiness. Practically all Jews believed that they should obey the law, but what made the Pharisees unique was their emphasis on applying all commandments, even those intended only for Levites and priests, to all Jews. For example, priests were required to keep certain rituals of hand washing before they ate (Lev. 22:1–9; cf. Exod 30:19–21; 40:31–32). So the Pharisees extended these requirements to all Israel in order to show God how serious they were about obeying the law (Mark 7:3–4). Obedience was crucial to God’s blessing; disobedience brought God’s curse. Therefore, the Pharisees established many traditions, going beyond the letter of the law, to ensure compliance. To what extent the Jewish people followed the example of the Pharisees is debated, but certainly it appeared to the people that no one was more zealous for God and his law than the Pharisees—a zeal that would compel them to join in the stoning of obvious offenders (Lev. 24:14; Acts 7:58). As a Pharisee, Paul’s zeal for the law led him to persecute Jewish Christians, not only in Jerusalem but also outside Israel, in places such as Damascus (Acts 8:3; 9:1–3; 22:4–5; Gal. 1:13–14; Phil. 3:6). Neither Paul nor Luke explains what the Pharisees found objectionable about this Jewish movement known as “the Way.” In fact, Paul’s teacher, Gamaliel, advised the Sanhedrin to ignore members of the Way and not make trouble for them (Acts 5:34–39)—advice obviously not taken by Paul. Perhaps it was Jesus’ reputation as a lawbreaker or the fact that he had died a cursed death according to the law that convinced Paul to imprison Jesus’ disciples (Deut. 21:23). Whatever the reason, Paul saw his role as persecutor of the church as the ultimate proof of his blamelessness under the law (Phil. 3:6).

After Christ appeared to Paul on the road to Damascus, everything changed: his life, his mission, his worldview (Acts 9:3–30). Paul left Pharisaism and immediately began preaching the gospel (Gal. 1:11–17). Those whom he persecuted were now friends. His zeal for the law was replaced by his zeal for Christ. It was a radical reversal. The rumor spread quickly: “The man who formerly persecuted us is now preaching the faith he once tried to destroy” (Gal. 1:23). Why the sudden change? Some think that it is what Paul saw—the glorified Messiah—that changed his perspective. The resurrection of Christ turned the curse of the cross into a blessing, death into life, shame into honor. The appearance of Christ (Christophany) was a revelation, an apocalypse, an end-of-the-world event for Paul. Old things passed away; everything became new (2 Cor. 5:17). What was divided under the old age of the law—Jews and Gentiles, male and female, slave and free—was united in Christ. Other scholars emphasize it is what Paul heard during the Christophany that changed the course of his life. Paul interpreted Christ’s charge, “Go, preach to the Gentiles,” as a prophetic calling, perhaps even fulfilling Isaiah’s end-time vision of salvation of the whole world (Isa. 49:1–7; Gal. 1:15–16). Thus, Paul’s westward push to take the gospel to the coastlands (Spain) was by divine design (Rom. 15:15–24). God commissioned Saul the Pharisee of the Jews to become Paul the apostle to the Gentiles because “the culmination of the ages has come” (1 Cor. 10:11).

Paul’s ministry. By our best estimates, Paul spent about thirty years preaching the gospel of Jesus Christ (AD 34–67)—a ministry that can be divided roughly into three decades. The first decade of his ministry (AD 34–46) has been called the “silent years,” as we have few details from Acts or the Pauline Epistles about his activities. For example, we know that he preached in Damascus for a while and spent some time in Arabia (a total of three years [Gal. 1:17–18]). He made a quick trip to Jerusalem to meet Peter and James the brother of Jesus. Then he returned home to Tarsus, evidently preaching there for several years, until Barnabas brought him to Antioch in Syria to help with the ministry of this mixed congregation of Jews and Gentiles (Acts 9:26–30; 11:25–26). In the second decade of his ministry (AD 46–59), Paul spent most of his life on the road, an itinerant ministry of preaching the gospel and planting churches from Cyprus to Corinth. For most of the third decade (AD 59–67), Paul ministered the gospel from prison, spending over two years imprisoned in Caesarea, another two to three years in a Roman prison (Acts ends here), released for a brief time (two years?) before his final arrest and imprisonment in Rome, where, according to church tradition, he was executed.

During his itinerant ministry, Paul traveled Roman roads that led him to free cities (Ephesus, Thessalonica, Athens) and Roman colonies (Pisidian Antioch, Iconium, Lystra, Derbe, Troas, Philippi, Corinth). Founding churches in urban centers afforded Paul more opportunities for ministry and for his work of making and repairing tents. Traveling within the borders of the Roman Empire also provided a better chance of protection as a citizen. At first, Paul and Barnabas covered familiar territory: Cyprus (Barnabas’s home region) and Anatolia (Paul’s home region). Then, with successive journeys Paul and other missionary companions branched out to Asia Minor, Macedonia, and Achaia. Some of the towns that Paul visited were small and provincial (Derbe, Lystra); others were major cities of great economic and intellectual commerce (Ephesus, Corinth, Athens). In the midst of such cultural diversity, Paul found receptive ears among a variety of ethnic groups: Gauls, Phrygians and Lycaonians, Greeks, Romans, and Jews. Previously, Paul’s Gentile converts had worshiped many gods (local, ethnic, and imperial), offered sacrifices at many shrines and temples, and joined in all the religious festivals (often involving immoral and ungodly practices). After believing the gospel, Paul’s predominantly Gentile churches turned from their idolatrous ways to serve “the living and true God” (1 Thess. 1:9). Their exclusive devotion to one God quickly led to economic and political problems, for both Paul’s converts and the cities of their residence. No more offerings for patron gods, no more support for local synagogues or the imperial cult—Paul’s converts were often persecuted for their newly found faith by local religious guilds (idol makers!) and civic leaders courting Roman favor (Acts 17:6–9; 19:23–41; Phil. 1:27–30; 1 Thess. 2:14–16). Indeed, Paul often was run out of town as a troublemaker who preached a message that threatened both the Jewish and the Roman ways of life (Acts 16:19–24; Phil. 3:17–4:1). It is no wonder that Paul’s activities eventually landed him in a Roman prison. It was only a matter of time before his reputation as a “lawbreaker” caught up with him (Acts 21:21). But that did not stop Paul. Whether as a prisoner or a free man, Paul proclaimed the gospel of Jesus Christ until the day he died.

Paul’s Gospel

The sources of Paul’s gospel. Paul ministered his entire life without the benefit of literary Gospels. Most scholars think that the earliest Gospel, Mark, was written about the time that Paul was martyred. Since Paul was not a disciple of Jesus and probably never heard him speak or witnessed his earthly ministry, how did Paul know what to preach? Where did Paul get his gospel? Paul mentioned four sources. First, he received oral traditions about Jesus from other Christians (1 Cor. 15:1–7). For him, hearing what happened during the Lord’s Supper from those who followed Jesus was the same as receiving it from the Lord (1 Cor. 11:23). Second, the Hebrew Scriptures were a major source of Paul’s gospel (Acts 17:2). Illumined by the Holy Spirit, Paul saw the gospel proclaimed in the law (Rom. 10:6–8) and predicted by the prophets (15:12). Third, in addition to the Christophany on the road to Damascus, Paul experienced revelations of Christ as epiphanies of the gospel (Acts 18:9–10; 26:18). This gave Paul the authority to claim that he received his gospel preeminently from Christ (Gal. 1:1, 16; 2:2). Fourth, Paul saw life experiences as a resource for the gospel (2 Cor. 12:7–10). As Paul made sense of what happened to him, he shared these insights with his converts as proof that “Christ is speaking through me” (2 Cor. 13:3–4). Indeed, Paul’s ways of doing the gospel were to be taught in all the churches as gospel truth (1 Cor. 4:17), because as far as Paul was concerned, the gospel of Jesus Christ was the gospel according to Paul.

The death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. The center of Paul’s gospel was the death and resurrection of Jesus. The essence of what he preached was “Jesus Christ and him crucified” (1 Cor. 2:2). Furthermore, the resurrection of Christ was indispensable to the gospel that Paul proclaimed. Without the resurrection, Paul argued, faith in Christ would be vain because believers would still be dead in their sins with no hope of life after death—the resurrection of their bodies (1 Cor. 15:13–19). Exploring the center, Paul used several metaphors drawn from everyday life to explain the significance of Christ’s work on the cross. Paul used legal terms such as “justification”/“righteousness,” “law,” and “condemnation” when he explained how sinners are justified by faith in Christ. Paul described the implications of Christ’s death in religious terms, using words such as “sacrifice,” “sin,” “propitiation”/“expiation” (NIV: “sacrifice of atonement”), and “temple,” which would make sense to both Jews and Gentiles. He also borrowed words from the world of commerce, such as “redemption,” “purchase,” and “slave,” especially when he emphasized the obedience of Christ, of Paul, of all believers. He even used military terms to describe how God turned enemies into friends through the cross: the “reconciliation” that came through the “victory” of Christ’s death when he “disarmed” the “powers.”

Paul also relied heavily on Jewish theology as he sorted out the work of God in Christ Jesus. Paul was a monotheist but attributed divine status to Jesus (Phil. 2:6). Paul believed that Israel was God’s chosen people but maintained that his Gentile converts were the elect, calling them the “Israel of God” (Gal. 6:16). Paul affirmed the law was holy but argued that holiness came only through the indwelling Spirit (Rom. 7:12; 1 Thess. 4:7–8). Paul believed that the Messiah’s appearance would bring about the end of the world but looked forward to Christ’s parousia (“appearance”) at the end of time. In other words, the person and work of Christ formed the lens through which Paul interpreted the Bible and made sense of the world. Indeed, Paul’s gospel was built on a foundation of Jewish doctrine, Jesus tradition, and religious experience.

A way of life. For Paul, the gospel was more than a set of beliefs; it was a way of life. To believe in Christ Jesus not only entailed accepting his sacrificial death as atonement for sin but also meant following Christ by taking up his cross—a life of sacrifice. Paul believed that he experienced the cross of Christ every time he endured hardship, every time he was persecuted, every time he suffered loss (Phil. 3:7–11). And it was in the crucified life that Paul found resurrection power (3:12–21). The gospel was the divine paradigm for living. What happened to Christ is what happened to Paul, and what happened to Paul is what would happen to all his converts. “Follow my example,” he wrote, “as I follow the example of Christ” (1 Cor. 11:1). In fact, Paul believed that all Christians were constantly being conformed to the image of God’s Son (Rom. 8:29). He was convinced that God would finish what he had started: the perfecting of his converts until the day of Christ’s return and the resurrection of every believer (Phil. 1:6; 3:21). The only thing that his converts needed to imitate Christ was the indwelling power of his Spirit (the Holy Spirit), the example of Paul’s life, and a letter every now and then from their apostle.

Paul’s Letters

Paul sent letters to churches and individuals to inform his converts of his situation, offer encouragement, answer questions, and address problems that developed while he was away. There are thirteen letters of Paul in the New Testament. Nine were written to churches or groups of churches (Romans; 1 and 2 Corinthians; Galatians; Ephesians; Philippians; Colossions; 1 and 2 Thessalonians) and four to individuals (1 and 2 Timothy; Titus; Philemon).

Paul the apostle. In most of his letters, Paul was on the defense: defending his apostleship, defending his itinerary, defending his gospel. Evidently, Paul’s opponents questioned whether Paul deserved to be called “apostle,” since he had not followed the historical Jesus and used to persecute the church (1 Cor. 15:8–9). According to Acts, when the first Christians decided to replace Judas Iscariot as one of the twelve apostles, they established the following criterion: the candidate must have been a follower of Jesus from his baptism to his ascension (Acts 1:21–22). Two men were qualified; one was chosen by divine lot, implying that there could be only twelve. Did the early church’s decision to recognize only twelve apostles define apostleship once and for all? Paul did not think so. He recognized the significance of the Twelve, but he believed that there were other apostles as well: Bar-na-bas, James the brother of Jesus, and himself (1 Cor. 15:5–9; Gal. 2:8–9). Paul knew that there were false apostles causing trouble in the churches (2 Cor. 11:13), some even carrying “letters of recommendation” (2 Cor. 3:1). But only those who had seen the resurrected Christ and were commissioned by him to preach the gospel were legitimate apostles (1 Cor. 9:1–2). The signs of apostleship were evident when the commission was fulfilled: planting churches and dispensing the Spirit (2 Cor. 3:2; 12:12; Gal. 3:5). Of all people, Paul’s converts should have never questioned the authority of their apostle. They were the proof of his apostleship.

Although Paul never mentioned this, the fact that he sent letters is evidence of his apostleship. Paul believed that the obedience of Gentile converts was his responsibility, a confirmation of his calling (Rom. 15:18–19). So he sent letters to make sure that they were keeping the traditions that he had taught them (1 Cor. 11:2). Sometimes, all that his readers needed was a little encouragement to keep up the good work (most of 1 Thessalonians and 2 Timothy are exhortations to keep doing what they were doing) or a more detailed explanation of what they already knew (Ephesians, Philippians, 1 Timothy, Titus). Many times, Paul sent letters to correct major problems within his churches. For example, some of the Galatians were submitting to the law and being circumcised (Gal. 4:21; 5:2–7). Some of the Colossians were involved in strange practices of asceticism and angel worship (Col. 2:16–23). Some of the Thessalonians had quit working for a living (2 Thess. 3:6–15). And, worst of all, the Corinthians were plagued with all kinds of problems: factions, lawsuits, incest, prostitutes, idolatry. Some of the Corinthians were also espousing false theological ideas, such as denying the resurrection (1 Cor. 15:12). Other churches had problems sorting out Paul’s theology as well. For example, the Thessalonians were confused about life after death, end times, and the return of Christ (1 Thess. 4:13–18; 2 Thess. 2:1–12), and the Romans needed, among other things, instruction about the role of Israel in the last days (Rom. 9:1–11:32). The fact that Paul felt obliged to send his lengthiest letter, loaded with some of his most sophisticated theological arguments, to the church in Rome, which he did not start and had not visited, says much about the way Paul saw the authority of his apostleship. Because he was the apostle to the Gentiles, Paul operated as if he were the mentor of all churches with Gentile members.

Church unity. Paul believed in the unity of the church. Indeed, he used several metaphors to help his readers see why it was important that one Lord and one faith should form one church. He described the church as a temple (1 Cor. 3:16–17), a family (Eph. 2:19), and a body—his favorite metaphor (1 Cor. 12:12–27). He warned of desecrating the temple with divisive teaching and immoral behavior (1 Cor. 3:1–6:20). He rebuked his children when they refused to obey him as their father (1 Cor. 3:14–21) or mother (Gal. 4:19–20). And, more than any other analogy, Paul likened the church to a human body that could be maimed by prejudice and threatened by sickness (1 Cor. 11:17–34). To him, a dismembered body was an unholy body; a segregated church meant that Christ was divided (1 Cor. 1:10–13). The ethnic, religious, social, political, geographical, and economic differences evident in one of the most diverse collections of people in the first-century Mediterranean world made Paul’s vision of a unified church appear like an impossible dream. Yet the apostle to the Gentiles believed that the unity of the body of Christ was indispensable not only to his mission but also to the gospel of Jesus Christ (Eph. 4:1–6). So he collected a relief offering among his Gentile converts to help poor Jewish Christians in Jerusalem (Rom. 15:26–27). He taught masters to treat their slaves like siblings (Philem. 16). And he solicited Romans to fund his mission trip to Spain (Rom. 15:24). As far as Paul was concerned, the gospel brought down every wall that divides humanity because all people need salvation in Christ (Eph. 2:14–18).

Conclusion

Paul was a tentmaker, a missionary, a writer, a preacher, a teacher, a theologian, an evangelist, a mentor, a prophet, a miracle worker, a prisoner, and a martyr. His life story reads like the tale of three different men: a devout Pharisee, a tireless traveler, an ambitious writer. He knew the Scriptures better than did most people. He saw more of the world than did most merchants. He wrote some of the longest letters known at that time. To his converts, he was a faithful friend. To his opponents, he was an irrepressible troublemaker. But, according to Paul, he was nothing more or less than the man whom God had called through Jesus Christ to take the gospel to the ends of the earth.

A literary device whereby an author writes under a name other than his or her own (a pseu-donym) or a book is deliberately assigned to a fictitious author (pseudepigraphy). In the case of ancient Jewish practice, the name borrowed was usually that of some famous worthy of the past (e.g., Enoch, Ezra), with the aim of bolstering the credentials of the book to which the name was attached. This is a common phenomenon in the Apocrypha (e.g., 2 Esdras, Baruch, Epistle of Jeremiah). It is even more common in the large collection of Second Temple texts now known as the Pseudepigrapha (e.g., 1 Enoch, Odes of Solomon, Testaments of the Twelve Patriarchs). (See also Pseudepigrapha.)

Scholars continue to debate the morality of pseudonymity and whether it is proper for a pseudonymous book to be placed within the canon of Scripture. Some excuse pseudonymity as a mere stylistic device or explain it as a culturally accepted convention. Others put a positive spin on the phenomenon, and so, for example, claim that in the Pastoral Epistles literate disciples of Paul sought to apply his ideas to newly developing situations in the years following his death. Some argue that such deception for a good cause is legitimate because it helped to gain a hearing for orthodox teaching. Others totally reject pseudepigraphy, viewing it as little better than deception and forgery and thus unworthy of literature viewed as inspired by God. The last approach seems to be most consistent with a high view of Scripture.

Over the last two hundred years a number of biblical books have been identified by some scholars as pseudonymous, notably Daniel in the OT, and in the NT six letters in the Pauline corpus—Ephesians, Colossians, 2 Thessalonians, and the Pastoral Epistles (1–2 Timothy, Titus)—together with 2 Peter and Jude.

Old Testament

Certainly one mark of Jewish apocalyptic works is pseudonymity, and the book of Daniel is often viewed by critical scholars as no exception to this rule. It is difficult, however, to see how the name “Daniel” would have served to give the OT book named after him the desired authority, which is a major motivation for attaching a pseudonym.

Apart from the book itself, we essentially know nothing about this Daniel, whom it describes as living in Babylonia during the exile. In the book of Ezekiel we have two references to a Daniel (Ezek. 14:14, 20). In this passage the prophet says that when the land sins against God, “even if these three men—Noah, Daniel and Job—were in it, they could save only themselves by their righteousness.” There is, in addition, the further reference in Ezek. 14:16 to “these three men,” obviously referring to the same three men. Ezekiel speaks of these three men as embodiments of righteousness, but the fact that this Daniel figure is placed between two ancients (Noah and Job) suggests that he too is a figure of antiquity, not a contemporary of Ezekiel.

Ezekiel 28:3 taunts the king of Tyre: “Are you wiser than Daniel? Is no secret hidden from you?” Here “Daniel” (the Hebrew text at Ezek. 28:3 actually reads “Danel”) obviously is a proverbial figure of wisdom, and this implies that he may have been well known in Tyre and therefore could well have been Syro-Phoenician. There is in fact a “Danel” figure mentioned in Ugaritic literature (before 1200 BC). On the other hand, the Daniel of the book of Daniel is not a patriarch like Enoch, Noah, and Job, nor is he a famous figure like Ezra or the assistant to a prophet, as Baruch was to Jeremiah. Daniel is known only through the book that bears his name. In other words, the usual motivation explaining the use of a pseudonym does not apply to the canonical book of Daniel.

Also, the closing up and sealing of the book (Dan. 8:26; 12:4) is no mere device necessitated by using as a pseudonym the name of a man supposedly living in the time of Cyrus. Rather, the sealing signifies that much of the content of the later chapters of the book will be understood only when the predicted events begin to take place at a future time, with the book placing Daniel (its presumed author) in the sixth century BC.

New Testament

The Pastoral Epistles. With regard to the Pastoral Epistles, all three letters claim to be authored by the apostle Paul (1 Tim. 1:1; 2 Tim. 1:1; Titus 1:1). In seeking to determine the time of composition within a chronology of Paul’s ministry, they must be dated toward the end of his life (in the case of 2 Timothy, perhaps only shortly before his death) and after the close of the book of Acts, which concludes with the apostle’s arrival in Rome (Acts 28). In his letter to the Romans, Paul anticipates a future mission to Spain (Rom. 15:23–29), but the Pastoral Epistles imply that he returned to the east. Ephesus and Crete are the presumed locations of his coworkers Timothy and Titus (see 1 Tim. 1:3; Titus 1:5). On this supposition, these letters arise from a further mission there and a second (and final) imprisonment. The fact that Acts says nothing about this is no evidence against the supposition.

It is not necessary to view the mundane ecclesiastical arrangements of the Pastoral Epistles as inconsistent with a charismatic model of leadership in other Pauline letters (note the address to “overseers and deacons” in Phil. 1:1). We know from Acts 14:23; 20:17–38 that Paul appointed elders in the churches that he founded. The theological differences between the Pastoral Epistles and earlier Pauline compositions should not be overemphasized. The stress laid upon “the faith” and “sound teaching” is exactly what might be expected if Paul anticipated his imminent removal from the scene.

The other alternative is the theory that after Paul’s death, members of a Pauline school (Timothy? Luke? Onesimus?) continued to supply letters under his name, addressing contemporary church issues in the guise of Paul, hoping to guarantee the legacy of the great apostle. Some scholars go as far as to assert that an admirer of Paul combined genuine Pauline fragments within a fictitious framework. The earliest listing of Paul’s letters is that of Marcion (c. AD 140), and he fails to mention the Pastoral Epistles. That omission may be explained in various ways. There is no evidence, however, that anyone in the early church (orthodox or heterodox) who knew of the letters doubted their authenticity.

Ephesians and Colossians. There is some textual uncertainty with regard to the words “in Ephesus” in Eph. 1:1, making it possible that the letter was originally a circular letter written by Paul to more than one church. The letter mentions no one by name except Tychicus (Eph. 6:21), who carried the letter (perhaps to different churches in turn). This is enough to explain its more general orientation than some other Pauline letters, and any supposed theological “development” is not beyond the likely boundaries of Paul’s expansive mind (e.g., his teaching on the church). The use of the “in Christ” formula in Ephesians is not substantially different from how Paul handles it elsewhere. The letter’s twofold structure of doctrinal exposition followed by practical instruction fits a common Pauline epistolary pattern. Indeed, F. F. Bruce refers to this letter as “the quintessence of Paulinism.”

In a number of ways Colossians and Ephesians share a common outlook. The Jewish Christian proto-gnostic false teaching combated in Colossians is not referred to in other Pauline letters, but it may have been a local Colossian variant. The letter is explicitly attributed to Paul, at both the beginning and the end (Col. 1:1; 4:18). Arguments about authorship based on style and unusual vocabulary are notoriously slippery and inconclusive. The high Christology of cosmic dimensions in Col. 1:15–20; 2:9–10, 15 is also present in undisputed Pauline letters (cf. Phil. 2:9–11). The obvious relationship of Colossians to the little letter to Philemon (e.g., Col. 4:9, 17; cf. Philem. 2, 12) is one of the strongest arguments in favor of the Pauline authorship of the former. Any theory of pseudepigraphy turns Col. 4:7–17, with its many names, into fanciful and free invention with little real purpose. Also, we might wonder why a later author chose to write under the name of Paul to a church that Paul himself did not found.

Second Thessalonians. Some view the futuristic timetable provided in 2 Thess. 2:1–12 as moving beyond Paul, with the world’s end not yet in sight, for the writer teaches that certain things have to happen before the return of Christ, whereas in 1 Thess. 4:13–5:11 Paul has a nearer end in view. In both letters, however, the apostle is seeking to dampen the wrong kind of apocalyptic excitement. In 2 Thessalonians, it is clear that Paul knows a tradition of Jesus’ teaching about the future, such as also found in Mark 13, so that there is nothing unreasonably “late” in the views expressed.

The substantial overlap in material between 1 Thessalonians and 2 Thessalonians is not evidence of the labors of a later disciple and imitator of Paul. It is highly ironic that some scholars suggest 2 Thessalonians is not a genuine letter of Paul: the letter itself condemns a fake letter supposedly from him that claims that the day of the Lord is already past (2 Thess. 2:2), and the original letter included a final greeting written in Paul’s own hand (2 Thess. 3:17).

Second Peter and Jude. As for 2 Peter, it was not as well known in the early church as 1 Peter, and some (according to Origen) were hesitant to accept it. Its author claims to be a witness to the transfiguration (2 Pet. 1:16–18). Such personal allusions need not be attributed to a later writer who was trying too hard to show that he was Simon Peter. The obvious connection of 2 Pet. 1:14 to what is recorded in John 21 does not prove that the writer was dependent on that chapter.

The remarkable parallels between 2 Peter and Jude show that one is dependent upon the other, though scholars are not unanimous about which letter was prior. We cannot rule out that Peter would use and adapt the writings of a less prominent leader such as Jude. Jude makes use of apocryphal books, but neither in Jude nor in 2 Peter do arguments against the particular brand of false teaching require a second-century (postapostolic) dating.

A literary device whereby an author writes under a name other than his or her own (a pseu-donym) or a book is deliberately assigned to a fictitious author (pseudepigraphy). In the case of ancient Jewish practice, the name borrowed was usually that of some famous worthy of the past (e.g., Enoch, Ezra), with the aim of bolstering the credentials of the book to which the name was attached. This is a common phenomenon in the Apocrypha (e.g., 2 Esdras, Baruch, Epistle of Jeremiah). It is even more common in the large collection of Second Temple texts now known as the Pseudepigrapha (e.g., 1 Enoch, Odes of Solomon, Testaments of the Twelve Patriarchs). (See also Pseudepigrapha.)

Scholars continue to debate the morality of pseudonymity and whether it is proper for a pseudonymous book to be placed within the canon of Scripture. Some excuse pseudonymity as a mere stylistic device or explain it as a culturally accepted convention. Others put a positive spin on the phenomenon, and so, for example, claim that in the Pastoral Epistles literate disciples of Paul sought to apply his ideas to newly developing situations in the years following his death. Some argue that such deception for a good cause is legitimate because it helped to gain a hearing for orthodox teaching. Others totally reject pseudepigraphy, viewing it as little better than deception and forgery and thus unworthy of literature viewed as inspired by God. The last approach seems to be most consistent with a high view of Scripture.

Over the last two hundred years a number of biblical books have been identified by some scholars as pseudonymous, notably Daniel in the OT, and in the NT six letters in the Pauline corpus—Ephesians, Colossians, 2 Thessalonians, and the Pastoral Epistles (1–2 Timothy, Titus)—together with 2 Peter and Jude.

Old Testament

Certainly one mark of Jewish apocalyptic works is pseudonymity, and the book of Daniel is often viewed by critical scholars as no exception to this rule. It is difficult, however, to see how the name “Daniel” would have served to give the OT book named after him the desired authority, which is a major motivation for attaching a pseudonym.

Apart from the book itself, we essentially know nothing about this Daniel, whom it describes as living in Babylonia during the exile. In the book of Ezekiel we have two references to a Daniel (Ezek. 14:14, 20). In this passage the prophet says that when the land sins against God, “even if these three men—Noah, Daniel and Job—were in it, they could save only themselves by their righteousness.” There is, in addition, the further reference in Ezek. 14:16 to “these three men,” obviously referring to the same three men. Ezekiel speaks of these three men as embodiments of righteousness, but the fact that this Daniel figure is placed between two ancients (Noah and Job) suggests that he too is a figure of antiquity, not a contemporary of Ezekiel.

Ezekiel 28:3 taunts the king of Tyre: “Are you wiser than Daniel? Is no secret hidden from you?” Here “Daniel” (the Hebrew text at Ezek. 28:3 actually reads “Danel”) obviously is a proverbial figure of wisdom, and this implies that he may have been well known in Tyre and therefore could well have been Syro-Phoenician. There is in fact a “Danel” figure mentioned in Ugaritic literature (before 1200 BC). On the other hand, the Daniel of the book of Daniel is not a patriarch like Enoch, Noah, and Job, nor is he a famous figure like Ezra or the assistant to a prophet, as Baruch was to Jeremiah. Daniel is known only through the book that bears his name. In other words, the usual motivation explaining the use of a pseudonym does not apply to the canonical book of Daniel.

Also, the closing up and sealing of the book (Dan. 8:26; 12:4) is no mere device necessitated by using as a pseudonym the name of a man supposedly living in the time of Cyrus. Rather, the sealing signifies that much of the content of the later chapters of the book will be understood only when the predicted events begin to take place at a future time, with the book placing Daniel (its presumed author) in the sixth century BC.

New Testament

The Pastoral Epistles. With regard to the Pastoral Epistles, all three letters claim to be authored by the apostle Paul (1 Tim. 1:1; 2 Tim. 1:1; Titus 1:1). In seeking to determine the time of composition within a chronology of Paul’s ministry, they must be dated toward the end of his life (in the case of 2 Timothy, perhaps only shortly before his death) and after the close of the book of Acts, which concludes with the apostle’s arrival in Rome (Acts 28). In his letter to the Romans, Paul anticipates a future mission to Spain (Rom. 15:23–29), but the Pastoral Epistles imply that he returned to the east. Ephesus and Crete are the presumed locations of his coworkers Timothy and Titus (see 1 Tim. 1:3; Titus 1:5). On this supposition, these letters arise from a further mission there and a second (and final) imprisonment. The fact that Acts says nothing about this is no evidence against the supposition.

It is not necessary to view the mundane ecclesiastical arrangements of the Pastoral Epistles as inconsistent with a charismatic model of leadership in other Pauline letters (note the address to “overseers and deacons” in Phil. 1:1). We know from Acts 14:23; 20:17–38 that Paul appointed elders in the churches that he founded. The theological differences between the Pastoral Epistles and earlier Pauline compositions should not be overemphasized. The stress laid upon “the faith” and “sound teaching” is exactly what might be expected if Paul anticipated his imminent removal from the scene.

The other alternative is the theory that after Paul’s death, members of a Pauline school (Timothy? Luke? Onesimus?) continued to supply letters under his name, addressing contemporary church issues in the guise of Paul, hoping to guarantee the legacy of the great apostle. Some scholars go as far as to assert that an admirer of Paul combined genuine Pauline fragments within a fictitious framework. The earliest listing of Paul’s letters is that of Marcion (c. AD 140), and he fails to mention the Pastoral Epistles. That omission may be explained in various ways. There is no evidence, however, that anyone in the early church (orthodox or heterodox) who knew of the letters doubted their authenticity.

Ephesians and Colossians. There is some textual uncertainty with regard to the words “in Ephesus” in Eph. 1:1, making it possible that the letter was originally a circular letter written by Paul to more than one church. The letter mentions no one by name except Tychicus (Eph. 6:21), who carried the letter (perhaps to different churches in turn). This is enough to explain its more general orientation than some other Pauline letters, and any supposed theological “development” is not beyond the likely boundaries of Paul’s expansive mind (e.g., his teaching on the church). The use of the “in Christ” formula in Ephesians is not substantially different from how Paul handles it elsewhere. The letter’s twofold structure of doctrinal exposition followed by practical instruction fits a common Pauline epistolary pattern. Indeed, F. F. Bruce refers to this letter as “the quintessence of Paulinism.”

In a number of ways Colossians and Ephesians share a common outlook. The Jewish Christian proto-gnostic false teaching combated in Colossians is not referred to in other Pauline letters, but it may have been a local Colossian variant. The letter is explicitly attributed to Paul, at both the beginning and the end (Col. 1:1; 4:18). Arguments about authorship based on style and unusual vocabulary are notoriously slippery and inconclusive. The high Christology of cosmic dimensions in Col. 1:15–20; 2:9–10, 15 is also present in undisputed Pauline letters (cf. Phil. 2:9–11). The obvious relationship of Colossians to the little letter to Philemon (e.g., Col. 4:9, 17; cf. Philem. 2, 12) is one of the strongest arguments in favor of the Pauline authorship of the former. Any theory of pseudepigraphy turns Col. 4:7–17, with its many names, into fanciful and free invention with little real purpose. Also, we might wonder why a later author chose to write under the name of Paul to a church that Paul himself did not found.

Second Thessalonians. Some view the futuristic timetable provided in 2 Thess. 2:1–12 as moving beyond Paul, with the world’s end not yet in sight, for the writer teaches that certain things have to happen before the return of Christ, whereas in 1 Thess. 4:13–5:11 Paul has a nearer end in view. In both letters, however, the apostle is seeking to dampen the wrong kind of apocalyptic excitement. In 2 Thessalonians, it is clear that Paul knows a tradition of Jesus’ teaching about the future, such as also found in Mark 13, so that there is nothing unreasonably “late” in the views expressed.

The substantial overlap in material between 1 Thessalonians and 2 Thessalonians is not evidence of the labors of a later disciple and imitator of Paul. It is highly ironic that some scholars suggest 2 Thessalonians is not a genuine letter of Paul: the letter itself condemns a fake letter supposedly from him that claims that the day of the Lord is already past (2 Thess. 2:2), and the original letter included a final greeting written in Paul’s own hand (2 Thess. 3:17).

Second Peter and Jude. As for 2 Peter, it was not as well known in the early church as 1 Peter, and some (according to Origen) were hesitant to accept it. Its author claims to be a witness to the transfiguration (2 Pet. 1:16–18). Such personal allusions need not be attributed to a later writer who was trying too hard to show that he was Simon Peter. The obvious connection of 2 Pet. 1:14 to what is recorded in John 21 does not prove that the writer was dependent on that chapter.

The remarkable parallels between 2 Peter and Jude show that one is dependent upon the other, though scholars are not unanimous about which letter was prior. We cannot rule out that Peter would use and adapt the writings of a less prominent leader such as Jude. Jude makes use of apocryphal books, but neither in Jude nor in 2 Peter do arguments against the particular brand of false teaching require a second-century (postapostolic) dating.

Jesus’ personal return to earth at the end of history. Three main Greek terms are used in the NT to describe this event: parousia, apokalypsis, and epiphaneia. The word parousia means “presence” or “arrival” and was used in ancient times to describe the arrival of a ruler or king (e.g., Matt. 24:3, 27, 37, 39; 1 Cor. 15:23; 1 Thess. 3:13; 4:15; 5:23; 2 Thess. 2:1, 8; James 5:7–8; 2 Pet. 3:4, 12; 1 John 2:28). The term apokalypsis refers to an “unveiling” or “revealing” of Jesus Christ at the end of the age (Rom. 2:5; 1 Cor. 1:7; 2 Thess. 1:7; 1 Pet. 1:7, 13; 4:13; cf. Rev. 1:1). The word epiphaneia speaks of an “appearing” or “manifestation” and refers to the visible, earthly appearance of Jesus (2 Thess. 2:8; 1 Tim. 6:14; 2 Tim. 4:1, 8; Titus 2:13).

Jesus clearly predicted his second coming in his Olivet Discourse: “Then will appear the sign of the Son of Man in heaven. And then all the peoples of the earth will mourn when they see the Son of Man coming on the clouds of heaven, with power and great glory” (Matt. 24:30). Jesus uses the word “come” in this discourse to speak about his return (Matt. 24:39, 42–44, 46; 25:19, 27, 31). Jesus’ return is also predicted by angels (e.g., Acts 1:11) and apostles (Phil. 3:20; Acts 3:20–21; 1 Cor. 11:26; Heb. 9:28).

The NT describes certain events that will precede Jesus’ coming. There will be wars, famines, earthquakes, and other cosmic disturbances (Matt. 24:6–8, 29). Believers will be persecuted and hated (Matt. 24:9–13, 21–22). Many erstwhile believers will turn away from the faith (Matt. 24:10–13; 1 Tim. 4:1; 2 Tim. 3:1–5; 2 Pet. 3:3–4). There will be false messiahs and false prophets who will deceive many through signs and wonders (Matt. 24:11, 23–26). The “man of lawlessness” (sometimes referred to as the antichrist) will be revealed (2 Thess. 2:1–12). In addition, the gospel will be preached to all nations (Matt. 24:14).

Although Jesus’ coming is certain, its exact time is uncertain in the sense that it cannot be predicted. Jesus himself said, “But about that day or hour no one knows, not even the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father” (Matt. 24:36 [cf. Acts 1:7; 3:21; 2 Pet. 3:4, 8–9]).

When Jesus comes again, his return will be visible to all, like “lightning that comes from the east is visible even in the west” (Matt. 24:27). The last trumpet will announce his coming in awesome power and great glory with his holy angels (Matt. 16:27; 24:30–31; 25:31; 1 Cor. 15:52; 1 Thess. 3:13; 4:16; 2 Thess. 1:7; 2:8; Jude 14). His coming will also be sudden and unexpected, “like a thief in the night” (1 Thess. 5:1–2; see also Matt. 24:37–39, 43–44; 2 Pet. 3:10; Rev. 16:15).

Jesus will come again for several reasons. He will raise the dead (John 5:28–29; 1 Cor. 15:22–23, 52; 1 Thess. 4:16) and separate the wicked from the righteous (Matt. 24:40–41; 25:31–32). He will transform the bodies of believers into glorious resurrection bodies (1 Cor. 15:51–53; Phil. 3:20–21), gather his followers to himself (1 Thess. 4:17; 2 Thess. 2:1), and reward them for their faithfulness (Matt. 16:27; 24:46–47; 1 Thess. 2:19; 2 Tim. 4:8; 1 Pet. 5:4; Rev. 22:12). The believer’s suffering will be replaced with the Lord’s praise (2 Thess. 1:7; 1 Pet. 1:7; 4:13) and the full experience of salvation (Heb. 9:28). By contrast, Jesus’ second advent means wrath for the wicked (Matt. 24:51; Rom. 2:5; 2 Thess. 1:8–9; Jude 15; Rev. 20:11–15) and destruction for God’s enemies (1 Cor. 15:25–26; 2 Thess. 2:8; Rev. 19:11–21; 20:7–10).

Since his coming is imminent but its timing uncertain, believers should eagerly expect his return (1 Cor. 1:7; 11:26; 16:22; Phil. 3:20; James 5:7–8; Rev. 22:20). Remaining watchful and ready consists of being faithfully engaged in doing what Jesus instructed (Matt. 24:46; 25:14–30; 1 John 2:28), even if this means suffering (Matt. 24:13; 1 Pet. 1:6–7). Believers are called to live holy and blameless lives in anticipation of meeting Jesus face-to-face (1 Thess. 3:13; 5:23; 1 Tim. 6:14; 1 Pet. 1:13; 2 Pet. 3:11–14; 1 John 2:28–29; 3:2–3). The promise of Jesus’ return is a motivation for mission (2 Tim. 4:1–2; 2 Pet. 3:12) and obedience (Rev. 22:7, 12, 17). It is, in short, the “blessed hope” of the believer (Titus 2:13).

Second Peter is a model of the Christian approach to those who are tempted to follow another gospel.

Outline

I. Greetings (1:1–2)

II. Put God’s Grace to Work (1:3–11)

III. Remember the Basis for Your Faith (1:12–21)

IV. Reject False Teachers (2:1–22)

V. On This Basis, Look to the Future (3:1–18)

Authorship and Date

The author is identified as “Simeon” Peter, using the Hebrew spelling of the name (1:1 ESV, NRSV; cf. Acts 15:14). He is “a servant and apostle of Jesus Christ” (1:1; cf. Rom. 1:1; Titus 1:1; James 1:1; Jude 1) and an eyewitness of his transfiguration (1:16–18; cf. Mark 9:2). He speaks affectionately of Paul as a colleague (3:15). He bases his argument against false teachers on the Scriptures and his own testimony as well as that of the other eyewitnesses (1:16; cf. 1 Pet. 5:1) of Jesus’ work. He refers (3:1) to an earlier letter that he wrote to the same people, probably a reference to 1 Peter.

A number of second-century authorities report that Peter ministered in Rome, on and off, for up to twenty-five years prior to his execution by Nero in AD 65. Here he speaks of his own imminent execution, recalling Jesus’ words to him (1:14; cf. John 21:19). He speaks of having taken steps to ensure that his testimony will be available after his death, which may be an allusion to Mark’s Gospel, as later Christian writers tell us.

Toward the end of the second century some doubted the authenticity of 2 Peter. A number of works had appeared in the second century claiming to be by Peter. The early church was well aware of the use of forgeries written in the names of the apostles to spread false teaching (even during their lifetimes [cf. 2 Thess. 2:2]). It appears that 2 Peter was not as widely known or used as 1 Peter, but the early church affirmed and defended the authenticity of both letters.

Destination

The letter gives no indication of its destination other than the reference to a former letter in 3:1. If this former letter was 1 Peter, then 2 Peter would have been sent to the same communities (Pontus, Galatia, Cappadocia, Asia, and Bithynia [so 1 Pet. 1:1]). This possibility is supported by the similar use of traditions concerning Noah and Enoch in both letters. However, 1 Peter gives no indication that Peter had any personal acquaintance with his addressees, whereas 2 Peter does (1:16). Given the extensive allusions to Jewish traditions not found in the OT, we can conclude that Peter was writing to Jewish Christians to whom these traditions had a strong appeal.

Relationship to the Epistle of Jude

Second Peter 2 and Jude 4–21 are extraordinarily similar not only in content and wording but also in their order. Scholars have speculated as to which author used the work of the other or whether both used a common source. We have no evidence that would settle the question. What we do know is that both letters interact heavily with the traditions associated with 1 Enoch.

These Enochic traditions differ from the teachings of the Pharisees and the Sadducees. They were accepted as authentic and authoritative at least by the Qumran community/Essenes (cf. CD-A 6:1–6; Jub. 1.1–9; 4.17–19). Whereas Jude (14–15) cites 1 En. 1.9 directly, 2 Peter only speaks about these stories.

According to the Enochic traditions, salvation was for ethnically pure Israel, observing rigorously the specifications for worship and lifestyle laid down in these pseudepigraphical revelations. While this tradition expected a day of judgment similar to that set forth in the Scriptures, it differed with the Christian gospel in its understanding of the origins of sin and evil (people are initially victims, not perpetrators) and of the way of salvation (rigorously keeping the Enochic rules). The Son of Man (of Dan. 7:13–14) is Enoch (1 En. 71), not Jesus. There is no place here for a crucified Messiah whose death would atone for sin, for the abandonment of OT food laws and sacrifices, or the acceptance of uncircumcised Gentiles into the assembly.

Second Peter and Jude deal in the strongest terms with false teachers who profess to base their teaching on fraudulent revelations (2 Pet. 1:16; Jude 1:8) and who deny Jesus as Lord. This tradition focused heavily on the Zadokite priesthood and the need to restore a pure temple. Peter and Jude’s polemic makes extensive connections between false teaching and all manner of corruption and uncleanness that would disqualify such a priesthood (2 Pet. 2:2, 10, 13, 15, 19, 22; cf. 1 Pet. 2:1–10; Jude 8, 11–13, 16).

The similarities between the two letters probably are the result of the two authors conferring together in some way. We know that Peter and his family traveled on missionary work, as did the brothers of Jesus (1 Cor. 9:5). We do not know where Jude was when either of these letters was written. The urgency that provoked Jude’s letter is also reflected in 2 Peter. The church was facing physical persecution in Rome as well as these false teachers who sought to lead Jewish believers away from Jesus. Meanwhile, Roman control of Judea was crumbling.

Main Themes

Second Peter focuses first on the work of God in Christ, which saves those who believe in Jesus (1:3). This faith is based on the knowledge of God and of Jesus (1:2) and is a response to the gospel call. God has given to the believer everything needed to live in a godly way, to endure, and to discern truth from error so as to die assured of not having been deceived (1:4).

Peter grounds that assurance in the Scriptures (1:19–21), in the testimony of the eyewitnesses of Jesus (1:12–16), including himself, and in the writings of the apostle Paul, to whom Jesus had given wisdom for this purpose (3:15–16). One develops certainty in the faith not only by referring to these sources but also by putting the faith into practice (1:5, 10, 15). The faith then is rooted in history, not in “cleverly invented stories” (1:16). Consequently, Peter expresses his passion to see that his eyewitness account will be accessible to the next generation (1:14–15).

He speaks plainly of “Scripture” as an identifiable body of texts written at the instigation of the Holy Spirit (1:20–21) and places the writings of Paul on the same level (3:16). By this, Peter implies that his letter is to be received as carrying the same authority and usefulness.

False teachers are a permanent challenge to God’s people. Doctrine and behavior are products of each other (2:1–3).

Peter is particularly concerned that his readers not think that Jesus’ delay in appearing is proof that the apostolic witnesses were wrong (3:3–4). Jesus has not returned because were he to do so, it would end all opportunity for unbelievers to hear the gospel and be saved (3:9). God is gracious and long-suffering and is calling his people to reflect his character by giving people the opportunity to be saved. His patience is salvation (3:15). The gospel mission, then, provides the second motivation for the believer to practice the faith (3:11–16) and not waver.

Second Peter ends by challenging believers to constantly grow in the knowledge and grace of Christ (3:17–18).

Paul’s second letter to the Thessalonians addresses a church troubled by an overly realized eschatology. Whereas at the time of the first letter the Thessalonians were expecting the imminent return of Christ (1 Thess. 5:6), by the time of the second letter some believed that Christ had already come (2 Thess. 2:2). Because of this, some were being drawn from their work into idleness (2 Thess. 3:6). Paul’s purpose, then, was to correct their eschatology, restore them to their tasks, and rebuild their confidence in Christ. He does this both by emphasizing Jesus Christ as Lord (the letter is uniquely consistent in the NT in applying the title “Lord” [Gk. kyrios] to Jesus) and by describing two apocalyptic events that must happen before the coming of the Lord Jesus Christ: the great apostasy and the appearance of the man of lawlessness (2 Thess. 2:3). Scholars have noted that Paul most often refers to Jesus as Lord in hortatory and eschatological passages. Indeed, though brief, 2 Thessalonians emphasizes exhortation and eschatology.

Literary Considerations

Authorship and the question of pseudo-nymity. As early as AD 110, Polycarp of Smyrna alluded to 2 Thessalonians in his letter to the Philippians (Pol. Phil. 11:4), and both Marcion and the Muratorian Canon refer to the epistle. It was known to Ignatius, Justin Martyr, Irenaeus, and Tertullian. In the modern era, beginning at the end of the eighteenth century, the Pauline authorship of the epistle was questioned, first by J. E. C. Schmidt, then by F. C. Baur, and more fully by W. Wrede, who dated the letter to a little before the date implied in Polycarp’s letter.

Comparison of 1 and 2 Thessalonians. The case for pseudonymous authorship depends largely on a comparison between 1 Thessalonians and 2 Thessalonians. The letters share a number of similarities in language, style, and content, including similarly worded salutations (1 Thess. 1:1; 2 Thess. 1:1–2), expressions of thanks (1 Thess. 1:2; 2:13; 3:9; 2 Thess. 1:3; 2:13), intercessory prayers (1 Thess. 3:11; 2 Thess. 2:16), references to the broad reputation of the Thessalonian church (1 Thess. 1:1–10; 2 Thess. 1:3–4), the persecution of the Thessalonian church (1 Thess. 2:14–16; 2 Thess. 1:5–10), divine election (1 Thess. 1:4; 2 Thess. 2:13), references to a personalized antagonist (“Satan” in 1 Thess. 2:18; “the evil one” in 2 Thess. 3:3), the exhortation to avoid idleness (1 Thess. 4:11–12; 5:14; 2 Thess. 3:7–13), a common concern for the parousia and its anticipation (1 Thess. 4:13–5:11; 2 Thess. 2:1–11), and a number of stylistic resemblances (cf. 1 Thess. 3:11 with 2 Thess. 2:16; 1 Thess. 4:1 with 2 Thess. 3:1; 1 Thess. 5:23 with 2 Thess. 3:16).

In addition to resemblances, advocates of pseudonymous authorship have perceived some deep discontinuities between the letters. The question, then, is to devise a theory to explain both types of features (see below). In 1 Thessalonians the parousia is depicted as an imminent event that could occur at any moment, “like a thief in the night” (1 Thess. 5:2), whereas in 2 Thessalonians the basic supposition is that the end will come not unexpectedly but only following the series of public events described in 2 Thess. 2:3–4. The imminent tone of 1 Thessalonians can be compared to that of 1 Corinthians (an undisputedly Pauline letter), while the attitude of 2 Thessalonians and its acceptance of an indefinite delay of the parousia find no obvious parallel in the other letters widely accepted as written by Paul, but have been described as best fitting a context in the last quarter of the first century, within the milieu of eschatological debate that gave rise to two other disputed Pauline letters, Ephesians and Colossians. Although we should not facilely harmonize the differences between the letters, neither should we overstate the imminence of eschatological expectation in 1 Thessalonians, where, as in 2 Thessalonians, Paul reminds his readers that in fact they will not be surprised by the parousia (1 Thess. 5:4)—although, admittedly, less apocalyptic detail is given than in 2 Thessalonians. Moreover, both letters give ample attention to life in the period of eschatological anticipation (2 Thess. 3:1–16), particularly to the temptation to idleness (1 Thess. 4:11–12; 5:14; 2 Thess. 3:7–13).

In 2 Thess. 2:2 the author warns against letters circulating in Paul’s name but falsely attributed to him. As proponents of the pseudonymous authorship of 2 Thessalonians have pointed out, this problem is unlikely to have arisen during the lifetime of Paul himself, as he would have been able to discredit such letters. Also, the handwritten signature at the end of the letter (2 Thess. 3:17 [the rest of the letter would have been dictated to a secretary, as in Rom. 16:22]) and the special emphasis placed on it (compared to 1 Cor. 16:21; Gal. 6:11; and in a disputed Pauline letter, Col. 4:18) have been taken as indicating an attempt to deceive, or at least as consistent with what a pseudonymous author would have deemed necessary to pass off the letter as the work of the famous apostle. Of course, this argument depends on the fact that Paul actually did sign some of his genuine letters in this way, though 2 Thess. 3:17 does admittedly go beyond the other examples listed as a plea for authenticity, even to the point of raising suspicion. On the other hand, if falsely attributed letters were being passed around in Paul’s lifetime, the extra emphasis on his personal mark would be called for.

Finally, some have described a shift in tone between the two letters, from joyfulness to somberness. Supposing that 2 Thessalonians was written some years after 1 Thessalonians and the death of Paul, this has been taken as a reflection of eschatological disappointment during the interim and a readjustment of expectations to the reality of a longer-than-anticipated delay in the parousia. However, the difference in tone, as well as the difference in theological emphasis noted above, might simply reflect differences in the sets of circumstances that occasioned the two letters, and the tone of both letters could be construed as coming from the mind of a single author.

Relationship between 1 and 2 Thessalonians. Considering similarities and differences together, the proponents of pseudonymous authorship judge the theological, linguistic, and stylistic differences to be substantive and real and to reflect both a significant lapse in time and the work of two distinct authors. In this view, the long list of resemblances indicates only that 2 Thessalonians is a rather studied imitation of 1 Thessalonians. If Paul wrote both letters, why would he have repeated so much of his earlier letter in the second and done so within a relatively short span of time? As alternatives to the theory of pseudonymous authorship, several proposals have been advanced to explain this unexpected behavior, including the notions that the letters were addressed to two groups within the city of Thessalonica (Jewish and Gentile); that each letter reflects the differing authorial contributions from the three senders of both letters (Paul, Silas, and Timothy [1 Thess. 1:1; 2 Thess. 1:1]); that one of the letters was addressed privately to a restricted group within the community; that 2 Thessalonians was written not shortly after 1 Thessalonians but rather following a second visit to Thessalonica (see Acts 20:1–2), during which developments not recorded in Acts would have set the stage for the distinctive emphases of the second letter; or that reversing the chronological priority of the letters so that 2 Thessalonians preceded 1 Thessalonians provides a scenario in which the Pauline authorship of 2 Thessalonians can plausibly be maintained. At present, the authorship of 2 Thessalonians remains a matter of dispute among biblical scholars.

Theological considerations. Apart from the internal evidence discussed above, the theory of pseudonymous authorship raises theological questions. How does the possibility that Paul did not write the letter bear on the authority of this letter as Scripture? Is the intent to deceive as to the authorship of the letter consistent with the belief that the letter was divinely inspired by a holy God? In terms of its history of reception, 2 Thessalonians has the highest pedigree and, as noted above, was alluded to as early as the first part of the second century. The Pauline authorship of the book and its status in the canon do not seem to have been a matter of dispute in antiquity. Responding to critical assessments of the book’s authorship and date in the modern era (and more broadly to assessments of other “disputed Pauline letters”), some evangelical theologians and biblical scholars have argued that epistolary pseudepigraphy was not considered respectable in antiquity; that is, such a practice was considered tantamount to forgery and an intent to deceive. The early church would not have knowingly accepted into the canon any letter known to have been pseudepigraphically authored and promulgated. In light of this reconstruction of ancient attitudes, the proposal of pseudonymity in the case of 2 Thessalonians and other supposedly Pauline letters becomes a significant theological problem.

In addressing this issue, it should be noted that the concept of authorship was and is somewhat flexible. Paul did not likely write with his own hand any of the letters in the NT, apart from adding his signature at the end of 1 Corinthians, Galatians, and possibly 2 Thessalonians and Colossians. In each instance the degree to which the scribe or amanuensis contributed to the wording or content of each letter (see Rom. 16:22) is unclear. In the case of 2 Thessalonians and some other Pauline Epistles, the letter originated from a group of three associates: Paul, Silas, and Timothy. It is unclear to what extent Silas and Timothy should be considered as having made an authorial contribution to the letter. Admittedly, the theory of pseudonymous authorship of 2 Thessalonians goes far beyond any of these cases, since, as generally articulated, it involves dating the letter to the last quarter of the first century, at least ten years or so after the death of Paul. In terms of the theological problem described above, a letter authored in Paul’s name under such circumstances represents a qualitatively different scenario than one written by associates during his lifetime yet ultimately knowingly authorized and sent (and signed) by the apostle himself. Still, the range of meanings entailed in the concept of “authorship” should lead to circumspection in evaluating the theological implications of the theory of pseudonymous authorship. Reducing this theory to the possible element of deception may risk oversimplifying and even demonizing the motivations and aims of the pseudonymous author. (See also Pseudepigraphy, Pseudonymity.)

Date. As is obvious from the foregoing discussion of authorship, the date of 2 Thessalonians is bound up in the question of authorship. If Paul wrote 2 Thessalonians, it would have to have been prior to his death in the mid-60s. First Thessalonians was likely written around AD 50, and 2 Thessalonians may have been written shortly thereafter, if it was written prior to Paul’s second visit to the region of Macedonia (Acts 20:1–2), during his time in Corinth (18:1–5) or Ephesus. A second visit to the city is not mentioned in 2 Thessalonians, and in contrast to the evidence of Acts 18:5 regarding the second missionary journey of Paul, we cannot with certainty place the three authors of 2 Thessalonians (Paul, Timothy, and Silas) together at a later date. Advocates of pseu-don-y-mous authorship usually date the letter to the last quarter of the first century in order to allow some time for the supposed development in eschatological expectation between the two letters, and probably also for the collection of Paul’s letters in later years to provide the background for the reference in 2 Thess. 3:17 to “all my letters.” At any rate, it should be dated prior to the composition of Polycarp’s letter to the Philippians around AD 110.

If pseudonymous authorship is accepted, then two passages in the letter that refer to events after Paul’s death may bear on a more precise dating of the composition. First, the reference to “God’s temple” in 2 Thess. 2:4, if it refers to the temple in Jerusalem, would suggest a date prior to AD 70, when that edifice was destroyed. Second, some have argued that the reference to the revelation of the “man of lawlessness” in 2 Thess. 2:3 refers to an expectation that the emperor Nero was to come back from the dead. This would suggest a date after Nero’s death in AD 68. Both passages can be explained in other ways: the figure of God’s temple continued to be invoked symbolically after AD 70, and the “man of lawlessness” is obscure enough to inspire caution in too quickly identifying him with a historical person.

Outline

I. Introductory Greeting and Thanksgiving (1:1–12)

A. Greetings from Paul, Silas, and Timothy (1:1–2)

B. Thanksgiving (1:3–10)

C. Prayer (1:11–12)

II. The Coming of Christ (2:1–12)

A. Warnings against reports that Christ has come (2:1–2)

B. The man of lawlessness and the great apostasy must come first (2:3–7)

C. God will ensure the destruction of both through Christ (2:8–12)

III. Exhortations (2:13–3:15)

A. Thanksgiving and prayer (2:13–3:5)

B. Exhortation to avoid idleness in themselves and in others (3:6–15)

IV. Closing Prayer and Benediction (3:16–18)