The Future Past of Paul within Judaism
How It Will Have Become a Successful Paradigm (If It Will Have)
A Memorable SBL Session
As a Pauline scholar, I have been following the contributions from scholars associated with “Paul within Judaism” (henceforth “PwJ”) with great interest. Having initially been exposed mostly to the so-called “old” or “Lutheran” perspective on Paul (which—at least in some cases—undoubtedly reads Protestant biases against Catholicism into first-century Judaism) and the “New Perspective” (which still—at least in some cases—problematically assumes an anachronistic shift in Paul’s religion), I have been convinced for some time that many Pauline passages need to be reinterpreted in light of Paul’s self-identification as a Jew, a self-identification that does not simply cease with him becoming an apostle.
Having done some work on the Roman Empire as another—perhaps even: the actual, non-Jewish—front of Paul’s critique, I am particularly open to reassessing supposed tensions between the apostle and the Judaism(s) of his day. I was therefore particularly interested in a session at this year’s SBL meeting in San Diego, where leading figures of PwJ addressed some central “problem texts,” followed by responses from scholars specializing in Judaism and Paul’s letters.
I won’t go into the individual contributions here, but if you want to know more about my initial reactions—and can tolerate the countless typos and other imperfections from my attempt to type quickly on my smartphone—you can check out my live tweets of the event here. Moreover, a detailed account of what transpired is probably not necessary, since if you are interested in Pauline studies at all, you will most certainly have already come across several takes on how the session went and what it all means for PwJ.
And indeed, I have never witnessed an SBL session that sparked so many subsequent discussions throughout the rest of the meeting, nor one where there was such universal agreement that the field cannot continue with business as usual after it.
I am reminded of John M.G. Barclay’s legendary takedown of N.T. Wright’s thesis regarding an anti-Roman subtext in Paul’s letters, which occurred 17 years ago in the same city (though I did not personally witness it). The parallel is indeed striking. I agree with the vast majority of those who have spoken to me after the session and who believe that we will almost certainly look back at this event as a turning point in the discussion—though I would be cautious about proclaiming the death of PwJ just yet. Then—regarding Paul and Empire—as now—regarding PwJ—the wounds suffered by the paradigm seem to have been largely self-inflicted. And as the earlier parallel shows, re-examinations of the theoretical and methodological underpinnings of such interpretive approaches, alongside careful exegetical re-evaluations of the evidence, can indeed revive them—provided they are grounded in the accurate perception that there is, in fact, something in Paul’s letters that genuinely requires fresh attention. I continue to believe that, in principle, this holds true for PwJ.
What I hope to see now is not merely a pendulum swing back to older paradigms, but an adjustment within PwJ itself—a development into a more constructive and, thus, more convincing discourse. For this to happen, I believe certain parameters will be critical. In what follows, I want to list and briefly comment on them. These are simply the thoughts of a Pauline scholar who is an outsider to PwJ—or, at best, someone more recently positioned at its margins. As such, I do not perceive these as “recommendations” in the strict sense, since I do not consider myself a proponent of PwJ with a vested interest in shaping its future direction. (As a sidenote, I should add: My reluctance to fully identify with this framework does not stem from significant disagreement with the theses put forward by (some) scholars who more directly align themselves with it. Rather, there are other aspects I find lacking, which prevent me from adopting such a label—comments below will likely make these points clearer.) In any case, what I will outline here should be understood less as recommendations and more as predictions. These are parameters I believe will have been taken more seriously by PwJ proponents in the future if, a few years from now, we look back and find that PwJ has gained significant traction in the field. In other words, if PwJ does indeed achieve further success, I expect these factors—among others, of course—to emerge as key markers of that potential success story.
The Role of Interpretation
First, I believe a stronger commitment to the actual interpretation of Pauline texts (and, at times, other Jewish texts) is vital. It does not suffice, in my view, to present a slide showing the text of 1 Cor 9:19–22 and then fail to engage with the text itself. Merely offering a—no doubt interesting—overview of the diversity of self-identifying Jewish practices in antiquity concerning eating (where, what, and with whom)—the topic in the wider literary context—falls short of addressing the passage directly.
To be sure, it is undoubtedly correct that Paul has sometimes (or perhaps even often?) been portrayed by scholars as stepping outside the boundaries of Judaism, with the argument that his practices deviated from what "a real Jew could do." Highlighting the diversity of Jewish practices is an important corrective to such views.
However, if we refuse to impose our notions of "real Jewishness" on historical figures and instead accept their self-claims of Jewish identity, this, in my opinion, also requires us to take their practices seriously—including their acts of writing, and thus, their texts. When we encounter statements in such texts that appear—at least at first glance—to indicate a self-distancing from Judaism or the denial of the Jewishness of other self-identifying Jews, we must take these statements seriously. Not in the sense of allowing them to dictate a normative understanding of Jewishness, but in the sense of letting these texts mean what they mean—or at least letting them prompt us to provide compelling reasons for interpreting them differently than they have traditionally been understood over centuries.
And it does not seem to me that Paula Fredriksen has done that. The question of whether Paul could associate with non-Jewish persons over dinner without being considered anomalous in comparison to other self-identifying Jews is, in my view, of little relevance to explaining the rhetorical thrust of the passage.
Two caveats: First, Ryan Collman did attempt to reinterpret at least aspects of 1 Cor 9:19–22, particularly in reference to Paul T. Sloan’s work. However, I would have hoped this to be the central focus of Paula Fredriksen’s presentation. Given that the session’s organizers themselves framed the passage as a "problem text" for PwJ and, thus, a passage in need of a fresh reading, this expectation does not seem unreasonable to me.
Second, I must admit that I have observed a similar tendency to bypass direct textual interpretation in favor of largely unrelated—though undoubtedly fascinating—analyses of real-world practices in works by some critics of PwJ. For instance, Ruben Bühner’s article on the same passage, in my view, does not directly advance our understanding of what Paul is communicating in this text. Still I would strongly recommend for what it actually focuses on (and for which Paula Fredriksen adduced it as evidence).
The Limitations of Tradition History and the Relevance of a Linguistic Perspective
Second, I believe PwJ should come to terms with not only the prospects but also the limits of tradition history, particularly with regard to what it can and cannot contribute to interpretation. The fact that I often encounter arguments from PwJ proponents that do not engage with the meaning of the text at all (see my previous lament) suggests that a substantial part of the program is actually about writing history rather than interpreting texts.
The methodology employed for such historical reconstructions seems, for the most part, quite suitable to me. A problem issue arises, however, when these reconstructions of the variegated nature of Jewish practice—and its relationship to non-Jewish practice—are linked to claims that central Pauline texts require reinterpretation. In this respect, I see a significant disconnect between the recourse in biblical studies as a whole (not just PwJ) to “background knowledge” and linguistic perspectives on what texts—biblical or otherwise—are and how they function.
Contextual factors are, of course, crucial for understanding communication processes. Yet I find it notable that even Heinrich von Siebenthal, who devotes an entire section of his Koine Greek grammar to text grammar and repeatedly emphasizes the role of world knowledge, frames, and related concepts, still maintains that exegetes should “determine in a reasoned way what function [textual constituents] most likely have within the text itself,” with “other concerns such as the ones for connections with other texts (contemporary or non-contemporary in Greek or in other languages)” being secondary (and, I would specify that as, “subsequent”).
Again, I observe tendencies to overemphasize “contextual” factors not just in discussions surrounding Paul and Judaism but more broadly in biblical studies. I have written an entire book on the implausibility of variegated explanations of 2 Cor 2:14 that fall into this trap (because of a lack of understanding of how inferences work, on which see below). This seems to be a more fundamental issue the field must address.
In an age where we are used to just slapdash our prompts into large language models, not caring about typos or coherence or even explaining the backgrounds of our inquiries well, only to still get responses that fit our intentions, I hope we can adopt a more linguistically informed perspective on how to approach texts. Such a perspective would help develop a more realistic understanding of the role that “background knowledge” can and should play (and it does have an important role to play!).
If we adopt this perspective, I believe we must also re-examine interpretations such as Matt Novenson’s on Gal 2:19–21, which invokes Bavli Niddah 61b for comparison. While such a reading may seem suggestive at first glance—and while I fully acknowledge that Novenson at least attempts a new interpretation of a classical “problem text”—I find it difficult to sustain if we move beyond loosely comparable patterns and engage with the text in greater detail.
As a sidenote, I find it telling that the one moment during the session when a genuine conversation about text interpretation emerged (in my opinion, the most constructive five minutes of the entire session)—prompted by insightful questions from the audience and concise pushback from Annalisa Wilson—quickly evolved into a rather classical debate on Pauline eschatology. One could have heard this exchange at any point during the last 150 years, and nothing in it, taken in isolation, would suggest that a paradigm such as PwJ had emerged in the meantime. Sometimes, it’s simply not (disagreement about) the context that determines meaning.
The Importance of Narratology
Third, this last point is closely connected to my hope that the importance of narration in Paul’s letters—and, accordingly, the contribution of narratology to exegesis—will become clearer in the future. Reading Paul not only within Judaism but also “in his own words” (as Annalisa Wilson put it in her conclusion) means engaging directly with the arguments he constructs, the descriptions he provides, and especially the stories he tells. It is not sufficient to simply identify roughly comparable plots in rabbinic literature.
Both of the “problem texts” I mentioned earlier, as well as Gal 3:10–14—addressed by Mark Nanos, who did offer an alternative interpretation (one, however, that “even” Ryan Collman rejected in his response)—are, by most definitions of narrativity, “narratives,” or at least contain miniature stories and can be viewed as what I call “proto-narratives,” stories that are merely potential because they involve future or hypothetical events. The same applies, for example, to 2 Cor 3, a text not mentioned in the session but which I would argue is a prime example of a “problem text” for PwJ.
I understand that some Pauline scholars may view the category of “narrative” with skepticism, particularly given that Richard B. Hays and N. T. Wright, who initially highlighted its relevance in Paul’s letters, were less concerned with the apostle’s actual stories. Instead, they focused on implicit stories, supposed narrative substructures, or worldview narratives underlying the text.
However, this does not change the fact that, from a text-linguistic perspective, narration is a crucial component of Paul’s communicative strategy. Ignoring narratological tools developed for studying such texts risks overlooking crucial dynamics. I see no convincing argument for why anyone should feel confident that these dynamics can be fully grasped without such tools. It is my hope that my recent book, Paul the Storyteller (Eerdmans, 2024)—building on my more detailed analysis published in BZNW (available in open access here)—will help bring these considerations more fully into focus. As of now, I believe Pauline scholars—not only those associated with PwJ but more broadly—frequently overlook key aspects of the text or, conversely, fall prey to Paul’s rhetoric because they are insufficiently attuned to the dynamics of storytelling.
To give just one small example, I do not think one can adequately interpret a statement such as 2 Cor 3:15—arguably quite central to reconstructing Paul’s view of Torah!—without a clear framework for understanding temporal dynamics among events, the foundation of all narratives. Yet it is not only about achieving a more precise understanding of Paul’s plots. The way he narrates them is equally illuminating. For instance, whose perspective is he adopting in any given statement? Is it a Jewish perspective, a gentile one, his present perspective, or that of his former self (and, if so, which version of his former self)? To take just one obvious example, from whose perspective does he describe his righteousness according to Torah as “flawless”? And it is especially with respect to “Israel” and “the Jews” that we can see that for Paul, the issue is not merely about recounting what happened; he also appears to insist on an ethics of storytelling. Not everything that could be narrated should—or even can—be narrated in practice.
Analyzing and Construing Inferences Adequately
Fourth, it seems to me that these last two comments on methodology point to a more fundamental issue—not just within PwJ, but in biblical studies in general—namely, deficiencies in the epistemological frameworks we work with (or implicitly presuppose).
I do not think there was a single statement in Ryan Collman’s response regarding the importance of reconsidering traditional interpretations of Pauline passages and the possibility that texts can be better explained within the framework of PwJ than through traditional biases that I would not wholeheartedly agree with. The challenge, however, is that it is difficult to discuss how to re-evaluate evidence in light of new hypotheses if one is unfamiliar with the theoretical foundations of Bayesian inference (unless, of course, one is a genius who intuitively applies such principles—such people may exist, but I am certainly not among them!). This is not to say that people in the past were never capable of making a single sound inference. But simply ignoring these insights even though their value has been established in the respective field seems negligent to me.
We should then at the very least not be surprised if we continue to talk past each other. This is only a natural consequence of not being able to correctly identify even what kind of claims our conversation partners are making—namely, how in their view these claims are intended to influence the probabilities of competing hypotheses. And we will be even less able to persuade others if we cannot demonstrate how specific evidence should shift the balance, not just within our own framework, but also in a coherent interpretive framework used by others.
A Substantive and Respectful Discourse
Fifth, I want to close with a wish concerning the tone of the conversation. If, until now, you have not been convinced that I managed to identify crucial contributing factors toward a more constructive PwJ discourse—perhaps finding it suspicious that they all happen to align with my peculiar personal interests—then perhaps this final point might meet your approval. I found it quite disappointing that in the session mentioned, a number of very legitimate questions—for example, by Logan Williams—were simply met with a joke.
To be sure, we as biblical scholars might often take ourselves too seriously, and a bit of lighthearted banter can indeed help put things into perspective—subsequently even allow for more productive conversations. Given the nature of the subject itself, which, in light of the Shoah, can hardly be approached as a neutral topic without consequences, the situation is delicate. The stakes are high, and emotions are naturally involved. Furthermore, in the current climate—with the resurgence of antisemitic tendencies worldwide—sensitivities are understandably heightened. I am not particularly sure which role the right kind (!) of humor may play in this. However, it in any case does not require a lot of empathy to see how this whole constellation could lead to impatience on the side of PwJ scholars when they feel that their theses are not receiving a fair hearing. Against this backdrop, some humor from PwJ scholars in their interactions with critics might thus even be considered quite admirable!
However, when some of the most relevant questions are lost in laughter, this does ultimately not seem particularly conducive to the goals of PwJ. Moreover, I cannot help but notice the irony that in a session that repeatedly emphasized the importance of respecting the self-identification of Jews in antiquity, we seemed unable to listen to the concerns and questions of a rabbi in the audience.
To be fair, polemical statements and strategic maneuvering instead of a genuine interest in dialogue can also be found on the other side. Even I am old enough to remember a time when scholars like Mark Nanos were marginalized as “crazy” figures unworthy of serious academic attention. And it does not take much effort to find caricatures of PwJ or jokes that score cheap points at the expense of accurate representation.
Still, I wish for a more substantive interaction. This would also mean creating space for a new generation of PwJ researchers and interested outsiders with open questions to speak, be heard, and receive responses that engage them with respect.