It is a delight to contribute to this volume in honor of Don Carson, whose life and work has been given to the study of the Scriptures in service to the life of the church, service which necessarily entails the task of engaging in biblical theology.

The doing of biblical theology necessarily entails biblical criticism. Lest the readers of this essay fall into shock, let me make clear that in making this statement I do not have in mind the rationalism that governed the interpretation of the Scriptures at the birth of so-called “biblical theology.” Nor do I have in mind the usual understanding of “historical criticism,” with which we are all familiar. I have in mind instead the criticism of us, our thought, labor, and life that we encounter in what the Scripture says and reveals about us as fallen creatures, on its way to telling us of God as the justifier and savior of the fallen human being. It is in this form of biblical criticism that biblical theology must necessarily engage.¹On the power of the Scripture to interpret itself and its readers, see Oswald Bayer, Martin Luther’s Theology: A Contemporary Interpretation, trans. Thomas H. Trapp (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2008), 68–92. We are not thereby absolved of labor, a labor that includes—and this is of critical importance—the reading of the texts of Scripture in their historical contexts, insofar as these may be discerned. Historical awareness of the text brings its own dangers, of course. The modern history of interpretation is full of examples of naïve overconfidence in “historical method” as a means of determining the meaning of texts. All too often a supposed “background” of a text is allowed to overrun what that text itself is saying. Despite this danger, the historical dimension of our task is indispensable. As valuable as the “theological interpretation of Scripture” and the study of the history of interpretation might be, they provide us only with what the church has said and taught about the Scriptures. They may well lead us back to the Scriptures. But in being led back to the text we are confronted with a word that has the power to confront us and call us again to the obedience of faith in our time and place. The very otherness of the text allows it to open our ears to the truth about ourselves and the world. Without this form of historical awareness, we are liable to read ourselves into the text in all the wrong ways. The work of biblical theology is to serve the church in answering the question, “What does this word of Scripture mean for us here and now?” It is worth remembering that the writings of the New Testament—themselves examples of biblical theology—are occasional pieces, written for the needs of churches at a particular moment in their life. All biblical theology is likewise written for its moment—the moment of the writer and the readers, for the questions and challenges that they face. Precisely in addressing the theological questions of its time and place each work of biblical theology may bear abiding significance.

In view of these reflections, I would like to return to two questions concerning the meaning of Paul’s insistence that “we have believed in Christ Jesus so that we might be justified by the faith of Christ and not by works of the Law” (Gal 2:16). The first of these questions is that of the meaning of πίστις Χριστοῦ. The second is that of what it means to be justified by faith.²For further discussion of these two questions, see Mark A. Seifrid, Christ, Our Righteousness: Paul’s Theology of Justification, NSBT 9 (Leicester: Apollos, 2000), esp. ch. 5.

It was the dissertation of the late Richard Hays, first published in 1983, that caught the imagination of interpreters in its challenge to the modern reading of “the faith of Christ.”³Richard B. Hays, The Faith of Jesus Christ: The Narrative Substructure of Galatians 3:1–4:11. The Biblical Resource Series, 2nd ed. (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2002). This genitive expression in its various forms had been nearly universally understood in the sense of an “objective genitive,” speaking of our faith in Christ. Appealing to the “narrative sub-structure of Galatians,” Hays argued that the expression, which appears twice in Galatians 2:16 and once again in another form in Galatians 2:20 (“the faith of the Son of God”), signifies not our faith in Christ, but Christ’s own “faith,” that is to say, Christ’s faithfulness toward God in his earthly life and mission.⁴“Faithfulness” clearly belongs to the semantic range of “πίστις” (e.g., LXX Ps 32:4 [33:4 ET]; Hos 2:22; Rom 3:3—Gal 5:22 is another question) It is this faithfulness of Christ, not our own faithfulness, that saves us, according to Hays. True enough. I am not interested here in problematic aspects of Hays’s reading of Paul. I want instead to offer reflections on the meaning of “the faith of Christ” that interpreters generally have overlooked in the discussion that followed Hays’s work. The rendering of πίστις Χριστοῦ as an objective or subjective genitive, which assumes that πίστις bears a verbal sense, has dominated the discussion, even where nuances or creative new categories of the genitive have been offered. Since “faith” remains a noun, however, it is necessary to consider the possibility that in the expression πίστις Χριστοῦ the genitive might be understood in a nominal sense, i.e., as genitive of source or possession. In this instance, the two converge for three distinct reasons. First, according to Paul, the promises of God have been given to Christ and have come to fulfillment in him.⁵2 Cor 1:20; Gal 3:16. Life and blessing properly belong to him alone. Second, Christ, according to Paul, gave himself for us in self-giving love in order to redeem us from sin and death. It was, furthermore, God, the Father, who sent him into the world for this purpose.⁶Rom 3:21–36; 5:8; 8:1–4, 32; Gal 1:1, 4; 4:4–7. For this reason, one may speak of Christ, the crucified and risen Lord, as communicative in his very being and existence. In him—in him alone—God fulfills all his promises and gives himself to us in all his goodness and with all his gifts. Third, Christ comes to us with his gifts solely through the apostolic proclamation of the fulfillment of God’s promises and purposes in him. We are bound to Christ by faith in this proclaimed word. The communication between God and the human being in Christ takes place through “hearing and believing.” When Paul speaks of “the faith of Christ” he is announcing the form of the relationship of communion between God and the human being that takes place in Christ, who is at once the abiding source of faith (“faith is from Christ” and its abiding object (“faith in Christ”). The human being does not remain a constant in this communication. The old person is crucified. A new person has been created in Jesus Christ and mediated to each one by the word of the Gospel and the faith that springs from it.⁷Oswald Bayer has explored the ethics that emerge from this understanding of faith in relation to contemporary philosophical and theological currents. See Oswald Bayer, Freedom in Response, Lutheran Ethics: Sources and Controversies, trans. Jeffrey F. Cayzer (Oxford; Oxford University Press, 2007). It is for this reason, one may suggest, that often with Paul “faith” may be understood as signifying simultaneously the act of believing and the content that is believed.⁸Rom 1:12, 17; 10:6–8, 16–17; 1 Cor 2:5; 2 Cor 13:5; Gal 1:23; 2:20; 3:23–29.

Interpreters generally have overlooked the fact that for the Greek fathers the expression “the faith of Christ” did not need to be translated, even if they found it useful or necessary to interpret it. Similarly, the Latin translation, fides Christi, (as well as the Old Church Slavonic, I am told) could retain the form—and thus the semantic openness—of the Greek.⁹The patristic Greek interpretations of the expression, which deserve further exploration, vary, including ἡ εἰς Χριστὸν πίστις as well as ἡ κατὰ Χριστὸν πίστις. Both the objective genitive and the authorial genitive are included, as is the case often with the usage of the simple form. The English, too, can retain the rendering “the faith of Christ” (and related forms) and, in fact, did so in a number of early translations.¹⁰John Wycliffe (1382) has in all instances of the expression “faith of Christ.” William Tyndale (1526) likewise translates with “faith of Jesus Christ” in Gal 2:16, 20; 3:22; and Rom 3:22. In Rom 3:26; Phil 3:9; and Eph 3:12, Tyndale has “faith in Christ.” The KJV (1611) still retains “faith of Christ“ in Galatians (Gal 2:16, 20; 3:22). Only in Rom 3:26 and Eph 3:12 does one find “faith in Christ.” As far as I can see, it was not until Luther’s influential Septembertestament, that the interpretive renderings of πίστις Χριστοῦ as an objective genitive first appeared in biblical translations.¹¹Luther (1522; Septembertestament): “(durch den Glawben) an Jesu Christ” (Gal 2:16 [2x]), significantly varying, then, “(ich lebe nun) dem Glawben des sons Gottis” (Gal 2:20), and finally, “durch den Glawben an Jesum Christum” (Gal 3:22). Admittedly, interpretive renderings such as ἡ εἰς Χριστὸν πίστις already appear in the Greek fathers. Often, however, one finds the genitive constructions such as we find with Paul—and these not always in citation of the apostle. The rendering of the expression as an objective genitive therefore cannot be said to constitute the “traditional” reading.

For background to the expression in the first century, we may turn briefly to Acts. The single Lukan reference to “Christ-faith” in Acts 3:16, together with its conjoined interpretation, provides a clear example of this usage and a clue to its significance as well. It appears in the context of Peter’s proclamation following the healing in the Temple:

And by the faith of this name (Jesus Christ of Nazareth)—this one whom you see and know, his name has made strong—and the faith that is through (Christ) has given wholeness to this one before all of you.

As is clear from the language of the verse, “the faith of this name” is nothing other than “the faith that comes through (Christ).” Here we encounter a major theme of Acts: The proclamation of the name of Jesus, believing in, and calling upon his name constitutes the fulfillment of God’s purpose and promise. The faith that “is of the name” of Jesus and is “given through him” is at once faith in Jesus and obedience to God, who raised him from the dead. We must remind ourselves that in the Scriptures and in early Judaism the language of “faith” is reserved for God alone. There is only one faith, that of the speaking God, who promises and fulfills. One might turn from God to serve idols and to place one’s trust in them. But just as there is only one true God, there is only one faith. We therefore must not overlook the significance of the language of Acts 3:16. It announces the one true faith in the wake of God’s work in Jesus.¹²Acts 20:21; 24:24; 26:18. To believe in Jesus is to obey God. To call upon the name of Jesus is to call upon the name of the Lord.¹³Acts 20:21; 24:24; 26:18. The language of faith is reserved in Acts for Jesus as its source and object.¹⁴The Gentiles who believe the proclamation of Jesus “turn to God” (Acts 15:19; 26:20; 1 Thess 1:9–10).

We may safely presuppose that the significance accorded to the name of Jesus in earliest Christianity informs Paul’s references to “the faith of Christ.” For Paul, too, there is only one faith: “one Lord, one faith, one baptism, one God and father of all” (Eph 4:5–6). It furthermore should come to us as no surprise that Paul’s references to “the faith of Christ” are concentrated within his arguments on justification. That is true of the passages we shall consider here: his report of the confrontation of Cephas in Antioch (Gal 2:11–21) together with his discussion of the promise to Abraham (Gal 3:6–14) and then his announcement of the revelation of God’s righteousness in Romans 3:21–26.¹⁵See also Phil 3:2–11.

We begin with Paul’s account of the dramatic confrontation of Cephas in Antioch. It is precisely here that Richard Hays’s reading of “the faith of Christ” in the following chapters of Galatians fails to persuade. While it is true that Paul presents God as acting in Christ, sending him forth to redeem us (Gal 4:4–5) and raising him from the dead (1:1); and while it is true that Christ, in giving himself up, acts in accord with the will of God, the Father (1:4; 4:5); Paul presents salvation in Galatians—and especially in 2:11–21—not as an act of Jesus’s faithfulness toward God, but as Jesus’s act of self-giving love toward us. The two references to “the faith of (Jesus) Christ” in Galatians 2:16 would seem to serve the same aim as does the declaration of Acts 3:16, defending and explaining what faith is and does in the light of Jesus Christ. Cephas has not been “walking” uprightly with respect to the truth of the Gospel. Paul delivers a corrective. As Galatians 1:23 makes clear, the faith Paul came to proclaim—to the surprise of the Judean churches—was radically new, even if it arose from a promise from of old (Gal 3:6; Gen 15:6).

There are good reasons for understanding the usage of πίστις in Galatians 2:16 in a nominal sense. First of all, the antecedent usage is clearly nominal: proclamation necessarily has content (Gal 1:23). Admittedly, the associated verbal references to believing in Christ fill out that content (Gal 2:16). One thus has to recognize one form of redundancy or another in interpreting Galatians 2:16, whether one opts for “believing in Christ” or “the faith that comes from Christ.” To my thinking, an emphasis on Christ as the substance or content of faith is inherently more likely than a statement about believing in Jesus that is already present in verbal form. Paul is pointing to faith as a new reality and sets it in opposition to its alternative, justification by “the works of the Law.” He then goes on to describe—in the first person—the life of faith in a way that transcends his own acting and existence:

I have been crucified with Christ. I live, yet no longer I, but Christ who lives in me. The life that I now live in the flesh, I live by the faith of the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself up for me. (Gal 2:20)

Here we must speak of “the faith of the Son of God” as the faith that is given by the Son of God. Paul has been taken up into Christ’s cross and resurrection. He has become a new person. Although his earthly existence continues, he has been given a radically new life that he lives “by the faith of the Son of God.” Paul further describes the knowledge of the Son of God that this faith includes: “He loved me and gave himself up for me.” This confession is doctrinal, to be sure. But it is more than doctrinal. It speaks of a living relationship that has its basis in the act of love and self-giving of the Son of God prior to Paul’s faith. Paul has undergone an exchange of existence and identity in an act of communication that was initiated by Christ’s self-giving love and resulted in the faith of the apostle. Paul the sinner and Christ the Savior remain distinct and yet in the dynamic exchange that takes place in faith: they are one. He lives by the faith that comes from the Son of God.

This reading is strengthened by Galatians 3:23–26, where Paul speaks of faith as adventitious: “faith” came to the world only with the coming of Christ. The apostle hardly could have forgotten the faith of Abraham, to whom he has just appealed. Yet the promise to Abraham was a promise to Abraham. It worked Abraham’s faith but not yet the faith of those who were to receive Abraham’s blessing (3:6–9). It is Christ, Paul declares, who is the “seed” to whom the promise of blessing was given (3:16). Abraham’s blessing thus comes to those who believe through the “faith of Jesus Christ,” namely, the faith that comes from Christ (3:22). Not only the superfluity of a repeated reference to the act of believing but also the adventitious nature of this faith point away from reading “the faith of Christ” in the sense of an objective genitive.

We may now turn to Romans 3:21–26, where Paul repeats his announcement of the revelation of God’s righteousness. He immediately characterizes this righteousness as coming through “the faith of Jesus Christ” (Rom 3:21–22).¹⁶It is obvious that Paul speaks of a saving righteousness: the demonstration of God’s righteousness here and now in the world makes God the “justifier of the one, who is of the faith of Jesus” (Rom 3:26). Once again the “faith of Jesus Christ” appears as an adventitious faith. Through it the righteousness of God comes to the human being. Should we understand Paul as referring to “faith in Christ”? Here, it is God, not Christ, who savingly acts. Paul correspondingly does not speak of “believing in Christ” (πιστεύειν) in this context. He speaks simply of “believing” (3:22).¹⁷The phrases in Rom 3:25 are to be taken as independent of one another: God put forward Christ Jesus as mercy seat, by faith (and) in (or by) his blood. Faith is implicitly directed to the God who has revealed his righteousness. Christ appears here, arguably, as the channel through whom this faith comes (3:22). Through faith he is God’s “mercy seat” (3:25).¹⁸On the interpretation of ἱλαστήριον in Rom 3:25, see Mark A. Seifrid, “Romans,” in Commentary on the New Testament Use of the Old Testament, 2nd ed., ed. G. K. Beale, D. A. Carson, and Benjamin L. Gladd (Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, forthcoming). As we have noted, for Paul, along with the rest of earliest Christianity, faith in God and faith in Christ were inseparable. Here the emphasis lies on faith in God, as Paul’s concluding theological statement (3:27–31) makes clear.¹⁹See also the following discussion of Abraham’s faith in God, in which we now share (Rom 4:1–12, 13–25). It is best, then, to understand “the faith of Jesus Christ” (3:22) and “the faith of Jesus” (3:26) as speaking of Jesus as the means by which faith is given. The righteousness of God “through the faith of Jesus Christ” fulfills the witness of the Law and the prophets (3:21).

Now we may speak of the significance of Paul’s language about “the faith of Christ for life,” both in its historical context and in its relevance for the present. Often—all too often—Romans 3:21–26 is read, taught, or preached apart from its rhetorical conclusion in 3:27–31. The point that Paul wants to make with his preceding announcement, and indeed with the entire sweep of the argument beginning at Romans 1:16, then goes missing. The boast in Jewish advantage is excluded by “the law of faith” according to which “a human being” is justified here and now by faith, apart from “works of the Law”—the outward and visible deeds that signal commitment to the Law of Israel’s God. Paul has prepared for this assertion already. Having announced “the righteousness of God given through the ‘faith of Jesus Christ,’” he asserts that it is “for all who believe, for there is no distinction”—no distinction between Jew and Gentile. All have sinned. Adam’s transgression has been repeated in each one. Justification comes as a gift by God’s grace alone (3:22–23). In 3:29–31, Paul points to Israel’s fundamental confession as a rejection of any Jewish boast of advantage: “Hear, Israel, the Lord is our God, the Lord is one” (Deut 6:4). If God is one, argues Paul, God is the God not only of Jews but also of Gentiles. He is thus the one who justifies both Jew and Gentile through faith. Paul is not announcing an abstract monotheism but the self-revelation of the living God. The oneness of God is manifest in that his righteousness is given through the faith that comes through Christ for all human beings. This affirmation is directed to Jewish believers within the circle of largely Gentile house churches in Rome, who were all too ready to disdain and judge their Gentile brothers and sisters.

It is obvious that the same dynamic was at work in Antioch, where Cephas failed to uphold the Gospel (Gal 2:14). Paul must remind him that despite their common Jewish identity, as those who are “of the works of the Law,” they have believed in Jesus Christ. They have done so in order to be ”justified by the faith that is of Christ” and not by “works of the Law.” In so believing they find themselves to be “sinners”—no different from the Gentiles. To not eat with the Gentiles was to reject the grace of God in the love of Christ, an act that Paul, as he announces, refuses to do (Gal 2:21).

The “new perspective on Paul” thus got it half-right and totally wrong. Its representatives were right when they pointed to the ethnic dimension of Paul’s message. They were totally wrong in failing to see that Paul’s insistence upon the full acceptance of the Gentiles was essential to “the faith that comes through Jesus Christ.” The acceptance of Gentile believers as brothers and sisters in Christ was a test for the earliest church—not a test of their openness to diversity but a test of the faith that had come to them in and through Christ. It was a test as to whether they regarded the present Jerusalem as their home or lived in hope of the Jerusalem above, the mother of all the children of promise. The same test of faith remains for the church today.

It would do us well to listen to Paul. His message bears fundamental significance for the life of a church that is becoming more ethnically diverse. In both Antioch and Rome, the Gentiles had become the majority. This dramatic change brought challenges that required a response grounded in Christ. Paul provides it: faith itself, the faith of Christ, calls for the acceptance of all other believers in Christ, no matter what their background or heritage. One may cite Dietrich Bonhoeffer, who in his own time and place echoes the apostle:

Only through Jesus Christ do I have and shall I have fellowship with the other. The more authentic and deeper our fellowship becomes, the more all else between us shall recede, the more clearly and purely shall Jesus Christ and his work alone become living and active between us. We have one another only through Christ. But through Christ we really have one another entirely and for all eternity.²⁰Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Gemeinsames Leben, DBW 5 (Gütersloh: Gütersloher Verlagshaus, 1987), 22. Translation by the author.

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