CHAPTER 1: THE
GENRE OF ACTS
“The first qualification for judging any piece of
workmanship from a corkscrew to a cathedral is to know what it is – what it was
intended to do and how it is meant to be used.”
C.S. Lewis, Preface to Paradise Lost
What is the Acts of the Apostles? It is a writing, a story, to be sure. But what kind? This question is one of genre.
Genres “are social conventions that provide contextual meaning for the
smaller units of language and text they enclose. The original significance that a literary text had for both
author and reader is tied to the genre of the text, so that the meaning of the
part is dependent upon the meaning of the whole.”[1] In other words, authors write according to a
set of conventions and expectations held by writers and audiences about
different types of literature. To write
according to a particular genre was to communicate specific intentions and to
imbue your work with certain meaning.
Is the question of genre important? Yes, it is.
“Identification of a work’s genre helps us understand its place within the
literary history . . . and aids us in its interpretation.”[2] Genre “is widely acknowledged as one of the
key conventions guiding both the composition and the interpretation of
writings. Genre forms a kind of
‘contract’ or agreement, often unspoken or unwritten, or even unconscious,
between the author and a reader, by which the author sets out to write
according to a whole set of expectations and conventions, and we agree to read
or to interpret the work using the same conventions, giving us an initial idea
of what we might expect to find.”[3]
Knowledge of genres was widespread in the literate
Hellenistic world in which Acts was written.
As Prof. Richard Burridge states in his book, What Are the Gospels?, “[a]n awareness of genre and its conventions
was widespread in the ancient world through elementary schooling, particular in
its use of rhetorical exercises and moralistic stories of the heroes.”[4]
Because of the importance of genre classification,
scholars have spilled much ink exploring the genre of Acts and the majority
have concluded that Acts is of the genre of the ancient history, known as
ancient historiography.[5] Below I discuss the possible genre
classifications for Acts. I begin by
making a preliminary case for ancient historiography and then evaluate the
other candidates, comparing and contrasting their suitability with that of
historiography.
I.
Ancient Historiography
Ancient histories “are vehicles for narrating events
worthy of record. . . . Historians [ ]
treated events that actually happened and people who really lived; they had
historical stories worth telling.”[6] Luke T. Johnson explains why he concludes
that the author of Acts was attempting to write history:
(1) His
prologue tells us that he is writing an “orderly account.” Historians of his age used such language to
describe their work. He refers as well
to oral and written sources; he knew others had written narratives before
him. He had sources; therefore, he
regarded them as such, and he used them critically. (2) He tries to relate his story to the broader historical
context. He does this first by providing
chronological references for pivotal events (see Luke 1:5; 2:1-2; 3:1-2; Acts
18:12). In addition, he identifies
power blocs and governing agents, not only in Palestine (Acts 18:12-17). (3) Above all, Luke has the historian’s
instinct for chronology and causality; he makes connections between events, so
that a thread of purpose runs through his narrative.[7]
Joel Green provides
additional similarities between Acts and historiography.
Luke’s
two volumes evince a number of other attributes common in Greco-Roman
historiography – for example a genealogical record (Lk. 3:23-28); the use of
meal scenes as occasions for instruction (as in Greco-Roman symposia); travel
narratives; speeches; letters; and dramatic episodes, such as Jesus’ rejection
at Nazareth (4.16-30) and Paul’s stormy voyage and shipwreck (Acts
27.1-28.14). Further in characterizing
his work as a narrative (diegesis), Luke qualifies his project as a long
narrative of many events, for which the chief prototypes were the
historiographical writings of Herodotus and Thucydides.[8]
Finally, Willen van Unnik
determined that there were ten basic rules that characterized the writings of
Greco-Roman historians: 1) choosing a
noble topic; 2) choosing a topic that would be useful to the audience; 3)
independence and impartiality; 4) a well structured narrative, especially at
the beginning and the end; 5) collection of preparatory material; 6) selection
and variety in presentation of the information; 7) correct disposition and
ordering of the narrative; 8) liveliness in the narration; 9) moderation of the
topographical details; and 10) composition of speeches well suited to the
orator and situation. Of these, Daniel
Marguerat concludes “that Luke follows eight of the ten rules.”[9] Rules 1 and 3 were exceptions explained by
“the specificity of Luke’s project”[10]
and are more similar to Jewish historical writings. Thus, Luke seems most influenced by Greco-Roman historiography
but his subject-matter and agenda are more akin to Jewish historiography.[11]
On its face, therefore, the author of Acts appears to be
consciously writing in the genre of ancient historiography. Although not without bias or theological
focus, the genre of Acts indicates the author’s intent to record and describe
historical events based on the best sources available.
II.
Acts as Scripture
Some scholars believe that the author of Acts saw himself
as writing scripture; adding to the story of the Old Testament.[12] Even here, though, proponents of the theory
see Acts as influenced by the “historical” books of the Old Testament, such as
1 and 2 Kings and 1 and 2 Samuel. This
theory has much to commend it. “[O]ur
author conceived of his work as the continuation of the LXX [the Greek
translation of the Old Testament common in the time of Acts]. His deliberate composition in Septuagintal
Greek and the conviction that his story was the fulfillment of the promises of
the OT imply that as a continuation, Luke-Acts represents sacred narrative.”[13] The return of the gift of prophecy, the centrality
of Jerusalem to his narratives (as the destination of the gospel in Luke and
the origin of the gospel in Acts), and the motif of fulfillment, also indicate
that the author sees himself as completing the Old Testament story.[14]
That the author of Acts may have seen himself as adding
to scripture, however, does not mean that he was not writing under the
influence of the conventions of ancient historiography. In essence, Luke was writing “salvation
history” – the story of God bringing salvation to the world through the nation
of Israel and then through Jesus and the Church – influenced by the historical
conventions of his day. When this focus
is considered in light of Acts’ genre of historiography, we may have the best
explanation of the intentions of the author of Acts. Though Acts shares many of the features common to the Greco-Roman
historians, it is somewhat unique that its author does not describe himself in
any detail in his books. Instead, his
focus is on recounting the salvation history begun in the Old Testament and
concluded in the events about which he writes.[15] Additionally, while other historians (even a
Jewish one like Josephus) show some reservation about miracles, Luke does
not. How could he if he is writing
about God’s salvation history?[16]
Accordingly, the idea that the author of Acts viewed
himself as writing a continuation of the Old Testament does not count against
the idea that he was writing according to the genre of historiography, but it
does shed light on his intent and explains some of the variances with other
works of historiography.
III. Acts
as Ancient Biography
Another
theory is that Acts is a form of ancient biography. The most prominent
proponent of this theory is C.H. Talbert. Talbert initially made his case in
his book, What is a Gospel? The Genre of the Canonical Gospels. This
genre, like ancient historiography, intends to impart historical information
about ancient figures. However, the
focus of ancient biographies is narrower, such as the life of a famous person. This characteristic would seem to preclude
Acts, given its focus on multiple characters.
Talbert, however, argues that Acts is akin to a “succession narrative,”
which he explains was a writing that followed up a biography and described the
followers of, or movement birthed, by the figure featured in the earlier
biography.[17] This theory has the advantage of explaining
the genre of Acts in light of the genre of Luke, which more scholars are
willing to see as biography.
Other
scholars, however, are unconvinced and note that such “succession narratives”
are much shorter than Acts and have little narration. Professor Aune believes that Luke and Acts are best explained as
historiography and notes that “succession narrative” is “an inappropriate description
of brief lists of students or successors.”[18] In other words, “succession narratives” were
lists rather than narratives. For
example, Talbert points to a few brief paragraphs in Laertius’ writings as
examples of these succession narratives.
Here is one such paragraph:
His disciples were Speiusippus of Athens, Xenocrates
of Chalcedon, Aristotle of Stagira. . . ., and many others, among them two
women, Lastheneia of Mantinea and Axiothea of Philius. . . . Some say that Theophrastus too attended his
lectures. Chamaeleon adds Hyperdies the
orator and Lycurgus, and in this Polemo agrees. Sabinus makes Demostenes his pupil, quoting . . . Mnesistratus of
Thasos as his authority. And it is not
improbable.[19]
Acts,
on the other hand, is obviously an extended narrative. Indeed, if anything, Acts is a richer
narrative than the Gospel of Luke.
Obviously, there is no comparison between such succession lists and the
Acts of the Apostles. Given the broad
range of subjects covered in Acts and the similarities of Acts with ancient
historiography, the better explanation remains that the genre of Acts is
ancient historiography.
IV.
Acts as Ancient
Romance/Ancient Novel
The notion that Acts is ancient fiction, or an “ancient
novel,” has been advanced by Richard Pervo in his book Profit with Delight.[20] This genre involved the writing of
fictitious narratives intended to entertain and perhaps edify the reader. For a variety of reasons, however, leading
Lukan scholars have rejected his arguments.[21]
A. The Prefaces
The prefaces of Luke and Acts are strong evidence that
its author intended to write history, not fiction. As Professor Gasque notes, “the majority of interpreters would
[conclude] that his preface indicates he has historical pretensions.”[22] Thought not all ancient writings had
prefaces, many did. They are found in
many different genres and signal the intent of the writer, and therefore the
genre of the work. The prefaces of
Luke-Acts show an obvious intent to write history:[23]
Inasmuch as many have undertaken to compile an account
of the things accomplished among us, just as they were handed down to us by
those who from the beginning were eyewitnesses and servants of the word, it
seemed fitting for me as well, having investigated everything carefully from
the beginning, to write it out
for you in consecutive order, most excellent Theophilus; so that you may know
the exact truth about the things you have been taught.
Luke 1:1.
The first account I composed, Theophilus, about all
that Jesus began to do and teach, until the day when He was taken up to heaven, after He had by the Holy
Spirit given orders to the apostles whom He had chosen.
Acts 1:1.
These
passages certainly suggest that the author is attempting to write history. He refers to “eyewitnesses” as sources of
information. He writes about
information being “handed down.” He
writes of investigating everything “carefully.” He is putting his writing in the form of a “narrative,” using the
same term that Dionysius uses in his Roman
Antiquities to describe his own work.
Rom. Ant. 2.48.1. Perhaps most important, he states that his
purpose for writing is that his reader will know “the exact truth” about the
subject. In short, everything about the
preface suggests that the author intended to write history, not narrate
fictitious stories.[24]
This is
the way the ancients thought history should be written. In his second-century work, The Way to Write History, Lucian of
Samosata writes: “Facts must not be
carelessly put together, but the historian must work with great labor and often
at great trouble make inquiry, preferably being himself present an eyewitness,
failing that, he must rely on those who are incorruptible, and have no bias
from passion or prejudice, to add or to diminish anything.” Quomodo 47.
The author of Acts seems aware of this maxim and explains that while he
himself is not an eyewitness for matters related in the Gospel of Luke, his
information is derived from them.
Notably, Lucian and Acts’ author use the same Greek word for
“eyewitness.” Regarding making note of
the effort put into writing their respective histories, the author of 2
Maccabees refers to the “labour of making this digest,” Josephus refers to growing
weary and the difficulty of translating into Greek, and Luke refers to
“carefully investigating” all things (Lk. 1:3).
The
reference in the Gospel’s preface to the author’s forerunners also invites
comparison to ancient historiography.
“It is customary in ancient historiography to give a critical evaluation
of the other historians, the predecessors, who had dealt with the same history
as the historian in question.”[25] The preface of 2 Maccabees, for example, explains of
his predecessor (and one of his sources), “I was struck by the mass of statistics
and the difficulty which the bulk of the materials causes to those wishing to
grasp the narratives of this history.”
So, he summarized and reordered the material. 2 Mac. 2:23-25. Josephus is more critical of his
predecessors, claiming that he wrote because others had “perverted the truth”
of the war between the Jews and the Romans.
Ant. 1.4. His preface to Jewish War is similarly critical.
War 1:1-2. In his preface to Roman Antiquities, Dionysius ironically notes with disapproval
other historians who were critical of other historians, although he goes on to
mention that some historians were “careless and indolent” in compiling their
“narratives.”
The
author of the Luke-Acts does something similar, noting that others had
written accounts before him and that he was going to offer his own contribution
because he wanted to write an “orderly account.” Although the criticism – if any – of earlier writings is mild,
Luke distinguishes his account from them.
All told, the author of the Gospel of Luke and Acts works in “all the
crucial points” we would expect from a preface to ancient historiography.[26]
Pervo argues, however, that the prefaces are irrelevant
to the issue of genre and that the author might have been trying to simulate
historical intent:
Prefaces
were highly conventional. Composition
of them may have been taught in school.
Their claims would be the object of parody. Not only historians but medical writers, astrologers, dream
interpreters, and novelists made use of such marks of erudition. The use of the preface does not settle the
question of genre, for such devices could be employed by novelists to create
verisimilitude.[27]
The notion that prefaces are
irrelevant to the issue of genre, however, is not persuasive. While it is true that there were prefaces in
various genres, it is also true that each genre had characteristics that
distinguished it from the other genres.
Those ancient novels with prefaces had prefaces that indicated that the
writings were novels. Those works of
ancient historiography with prefaces had prefaces that indicated that the
writings were historiography.
Pervo’s suggestion that the author of Acts could have
been attempting to “create verisimilitude” is likewise unpersuasive. He provides a footnote supposedly supporting
this point, so I checked it expecting to find examples of ancient novels that
had prefaces that pretended to be writing historiography. I found no examples. The footnote simply refers the reader to a
later part of his book that also provides no examples. In reality, no supporting evidence is
offered. It appears that the authors of
ancient novels did not try to simulate historiography by the use of such prefaces.[28] In fact, in ancient novels, “there was
little concern for credibility in the narrative.”[29]
The only references to novel prefaces in Pervo’s
discussion are in an earlier footnote to his assertion that many different
genres use prefaces. Of course this is
not in dispute. The argument is not
that Acts has a preface, but that it has a preface that indicates historical
intent. A review of Pervo’s references
to novel prefaces actually adds weight against his argument.[30] The referenced novel prefaces do not attempt
to simulate historiography. In fact,
they indicate to the reader that he is reading a novel.
To take one of Pervo’s examples – the preface of Longus – “[the author’s] aim was to make
a verbal equivalent of a painting he saw in Lesbos, and that is what he has
done - summoned up a Golden Age of innocence in which his hero and heroine can
have adventures and never get hurt.”[31] This purpose is clearly stated in his
preface.[32] There is no attempt to render this an
apparent historical account.
To take another of Pervo’s examples – Lucian’s True History – “Lucian states in the Preface (§1:2) that everything in his story is a
‘more or less comical parody of one or another of the poets, historians, and
philosophers of old, who have written much that smacks of miracles and
fables.’”[33] Again, no attempt is made to pass off this
writing as history.
As Pervo’s own examples demonstrate, when the authors of
ancient novels used prefaces they appear to be candid about their goals. But no element of the ancient novel is
hinted at in either of Luke’s prefaces.
“Luke does not suggest in either Luke 1:1-4 or Acts 1:1-2 that he sees
it as his essential task to give pleasure, to entertain, to edify, or even in
the main to encourage certain virtues.”[34]
In sum, the prefaces written by the author of Acts are
strong evidence that he intends to write historical accounts rather than
fictitious narratives.
B. The Ending of Acts
Another feature of Acts that counts against it being an
ancient novel is its abrupt ending.
Pervo notes that one of the defining characteristics of the ancient
novel is that its outcome is predictable and complete.[35] Other scholars agree.[36] But Acts has anything but a predictable,
complete ending. Indeed, the ending of
Acts has raised questions for two thousand years:
It is
the abrupt ending of Acts that is most troubling…. Ancient novels tell the tale of a hero or heroine, often both,
following them through adventure and misadventure until they are reunited,
married, and ‘living happily ever after.’
Villains are captured and punished, oracles fulfilled, the virtuous
rewarded. There are no loose ends. Acts follows Paul (leaving Peter forgotten!)
through thick and thin, recounting preachings, beatings, arrest, trial, voyage,
shipwreck, and eventual arrival at Rome.
And then stops. If the genre of
Acts is that of the ancient novel, the end of Acts is unthinkable: There are no parallels to the ending.[37]
To emphasize this point we can examine the apocryphal
Acts, which contain much more evidence of containing fictional elements. The Acts
of Paul, the Acts of Peter, the Acts of Thomas, and the Acts of Andrew all narrate the deaths of
their leading characters. The Acts of Paul narrates Paul’s judicial
sentence and execution in detail.
(10.5). The Acts of Peter likewise narrates the sentencing and execution of
Peter. (37-40). Nero plays prominent roles in both accounts,
but in the Acts of the Apostles Nero does not even make an appearance. Moreover, what happened to Peter? Or James?
And what about Paul? By the time
Acts was written, all three of these figures may have been dead. Yet Acts narrates nothing of their
fates.
The failure to narrate Paul’s fate is especially glaring
because he is the hero of the second half of the book. Nevertheless, Paul is left in Rome awaiting
trial (and thus in danger of his life or about to be set free). This is far from what we would expect from
an ancient novel. But if Acts is a
history of the progress of the gospel from Jerusalem to Rome, it is not
surprising as ancient historiography.
C. Purported Inaccuracies
One reason Pervo concludes that Acts is not
historiography is that he believes Acts is too full of inaccuracies. But as Pervo candidly admits, he simply
assumes rather than demonstrates that Acts is replete with historical
inaccuracies.[38] To Pervo, the most important of these
inaccuracies appears to be Luke’s supposed theological conflict with Paul’s
letters.[39] I deal with these more specifically below,
but for now it is enough to note that historiography with inaccuracies is still
historiography. As Professor Balch
notes in his article on the genre of Luke-Acts, Pervo confuses modern history
with ancient. “Pervo has nowhere
seriously the form, content, or function of ancient
historiography. He constantly contrasts
novels with history, but the latter is his own reconstruction.”[40] Another scholar puts it this way:
In
supposedly establishing the difficulty in seeing Acts as history, Pervo begins
by pointing out what he sees as the historical inaccuracies in Acts. He apparently does not recognize that he has
moved outside of the form-critical examination in which he purports to
engage. He has moved to criteria that
have little, if any, bearing at this stage of discussion on whether the book of
Acts is, or is not, a historical account.
The possible explanations for the supposed historical flaws in Acts are
several. For example, Luke could be a
historian but a bad one, even a very bad one.
There were many in the ancient world, but simply because they were bad
historians does not mean that they were therefore writing novels. They were simply engaging in bad history
writing.[41]
Accordingly, even if Pervo’s
evaluation of the accuracy of Acts had merit, it does not count against
classifying Acts as historiography.
D. Writing to Entertain
Perhaps the most important point Pervo advances is that
Acts was written to entertain its readers.
Because the central purpose of ancient novels was to entertain, Pervo
believes this feature of Acts makes his case.
This argument, however, fails to adequately cope with three facts: 1) the most entertaining features of Acts
Pervo points to are historical events confirmed by other Christian writings; 2)
ancient historiography was also written to entertain; and, 3) the entertaining
elements of Acts in relation to other elements are far from the balance found
in ancient novels.
Pervo helpfully includes a table of the “entertaining”
events that purportedly show that Acts was written to entertain. It includes Paul’s being arrested, beaten,
and shipwrecked. But, Paul confirms
these events in his own writings:
I have worked much harder, been in prison more
frequently, been flogged more severely, and been exposed to death again and
again. Five times I received from the
Jews the forty lashes minus one. Three
times I was beaten with rods, once I was stoned, three times I was shipwrecked,
I spent a night and a day in the open sea, I have been constantly on the move.
I have been in danger from rivers, in danger from bandits, in danger from my
own countrymen, in danger from Gentiles; in danger in the city, in danger in
the country, in danger at sea; and in danger from false brothers. I have labored and toiled and have often
gone without sleep; I have known hunger and thirst and have often gone without
food; I have been cold and naked.… In
Damascus the governor under King Aretas had the city of the Damascenes guarded
in order to arrest me. But I was lowered
in a basket from a window in the wall and slipped through his hands.
2 Corinthians 11:23-33.
In
just one passage Paul confirms that he was imprisoned on many occasions, that
he was physically punished by Roman authorities, that he was physically
punished by Jewish authorities, that he was shipwrecked, and that he endured
many adventures during his travels.
Perhaps most instructive is that Paul confirms Luke’s rather fantastic
account of Paul escaping from Damascus by being lowered down through the wall
in a basket. If not confirmed by Paul,
this episode might be seen as free creation evidencing that Acts is a novel
intended to entertain. Fortunately this
episode – as with most of the exciting elements in Acts regarding Paul – is
confirmed by Paul himself.
Nevertheless,
Pervo argues that it is not merely the existence of exciting episodes that
proves Acts is fiction, but the way he weaves them together to create an
exciting narrative. This argument is
unpersuasive. Because the author of
Acts has successfully strung together several true episodes we must conclude that he is writing fiction? Is this not better construed as evidence of
historical intent?
The entertaining elements of Acts can be explained more
readily by recognizing that this was one of the characteristics of the genre of
ancient historiography.[42] “Historians of the period were also
obligated to make their narratives exciting and ‘delightful.’”[43] In his How
to Write History, Lucian noted that historians should write “what will
interest and instruct” their audience.
§ 53. The author of 2
Maccabees, for example, tells his audience that he was writing “to provide
for the entertainment of those who read for pleasure, the convenience of
students who must commit the facts to memory, and the profit of even the casual
readers.” 2 Mac. 2:25.
Professor Soards points to additional
examples of such historiography that Pervo overlooks or downplays:
[S]cholars have long recognized that one of the goals
of ancient historians was to please their readers. . . . The presence of entertaining or pleasing
elements in an ancient work does not automatically mean that it is not history.
Yet Pervo takes this position. He is able to do so largely by ignoring this
characteristic in ancient historiography–for example, it is remarkable that
while Pervo mentions Thucydides (only!) five times in his study, he completely
ignores Herodotus, “The Father of History,” who writes in a lively, engaging,
entertaining, and even fantastic manner–not unlike the author of Acts. Similarly, Pervo refers several times to
Lucian of Samosata and Xenophon of Ephesus, but he brings Dionysis of
Halicarnassus into the study only twice; Polybius, once; and Sallus, three
times. Many–perhaps most or all–the common characteristics Pervo identified
between Acts and the ancient novel may be located in these ancient historians
whom Pervo basically ignores.[44]
Finally, when one compares the
entertaining parts of Acts to the rest of the narrative, it becomes clear that
though its author wanted to entertain, other purposes and features – such as
speeches, evangelism, and reference to scriptures – predominate. As Professor Brosend notes, “[w]hile Acts
does indeed entertain and inform, the ancient novels offer a profit/delight
ratio weighed much more in favor of delight than does Acts.”[45] This ratio favors the entertaining/historical
balance found in ancient historiography, not ancient novels.
In
conclusion, none of the exciting episodes or the fact that Acts was written to
be entertaining means it is a novel as opposed to historiography.
E. The
Apocryphal Acts
Pervo
attempts to make much of the fact that later, apocryphal Acts, such as the Acts of Peter and the Acts of Paul, are fiction. Because Acts is literarily related to these
later documents, Acts too supposedly is fiction. The most obvious problem with this argument is the causal
flow. The later apocryphal Acts are
embellishments perhaps encouraged by the original Acts and the gospels. They can tell us nothing, however, of the
intent of the author of Acts. You
cannot assess the genre of the original by simply equating it with some later,
derivative writings:
The circular and anachronistic nature of this argument
is manifest. He uses texts that are
self-evidently derivative in order to assess the primary source. However, these later fictive interpretations
of scenes from canonical Acts cannot be used to assess the literary or
historical dimensions of Acts itself.
This is confirmed by the treatment of canonical Acts even by classicists
who consider Apocryphal Acts to fall within the ancient novel tradition. For example, Hagg assumes canonical Acts is
a different sort of literature than the Apocryphal Acts of Paul, which he sees
as a type of ancient novel.[46]
Further,
there were later Christian writers, such as Eusebius, who arguably was
influenced by Acts when writing his ecclesiastical history. By focusing on the apocryphal Acts, Pervo
has skewed his analysis.
Accordingly,
Pervo’s reliance on these later apocryphal writings is not helpful in
determining the genre of Acts itself.
F. The
Speeches of Acts
Most
scholars have noted that the use of speeches in Acts is similar to that of
other historians (though Acts, being largely about missionary efforts, has a
greater proportion of them). Pervo
rejects the idea that the speeches in Acts indicate that its genre is ancient
historiography and argues that “the use of speeches does not establish the
genre.”[47] The only distinctions Pervo attempts to make
is that that the speeches in Acts are “Lucan compositions” and that there were
no “missionary addresses in Thucydides.”[48] Neither point is convincing.
Although
it is true that the language of the speeches in Acts is similar to the rest of
the book, the significance of this should not be misconstrued. No ancient historian wrote verbatim
transcripts of speeches. The Greek
historian Thucydides stated that, when writing speeches, the historian should
record them “of course adhering as
closely as possible to the general sense of what was actually said.”
History of the Peloponnesian War, 1.22.1. Though Thucydides believed that it was the historian’s duty to
try and report the sense of what was actually said, even he realized that
nothing more than a paraphrase was possible in ancient times. Ancient historians could not avoid using
their own style and language when reporting speeches.[49]
Pervo’s
second point – that Thucydides did not write missionary speeches – is
irrelevant. Thucydides did not write a
history of an evangelistic religious movement.
Certainly Pervo offers no evidence that missionary speeches were typical
of ancient novels. Though claiming that
the nature of the speeches in Acts cannot be used as a guide to genre he goes
on to claim that ancient novels “provide much more convincing and useful
parallels to the contents and literary function of the speeches in Acts than
will histories.”[50] This assertion is not backed up by
convincing evidence. Rather, as
Professor Bosend recognized, “[Pervo] scarcely provides any examples, and does
not address the much broader use of speeches in Acts in comparison to the
novels.”[51]
Clearly,
therefore, the speeches of Acts are more akin to the historiography genre than
historical fiction.
G. The Absence of Romance
If
Acts is intended to be an ancient novel it is strange that there is no romance
in it. Romance was an important, even
defining, part of ancient novels and “[t]he absence of [it] is a significant
omission.”[52] Although Acts features some women, it
contains no hint of romance. Not even
for the prominent couple of Priscilla and Aquila. Not even for Paul, the hero of the second half of Acts, who is
distinctly romantically uninvolved.
It
could be argued that Acts’ audience would not be interested in romance. But this is more assumed than
demonstrated. “Ultimately, there is too
much in this reasoning that has to be given away to the audience. It will seem easier to many who weigh
Pervo’s case to conclude that Acts communicates to its readers using a
different genre from the ancient novel rather than that genre minus most of its
juicy parts.”[53] The better explanation is that Acts does not
include Romance because Acts is not an ancient novel.
Further,
the absence of any hint of romance from Acts is all the more telling in light
of its presence in the apocryphal Acts.
Far from proving a Christian lack of interest in the characteristics of
the ancient novel, the apocryphal Acts prove the opposite. “Many of the motifs of the Hellenistic
romance recur in the Christian apocryphal acts.”[54] Perhaps the most telling example is found in
the Acts of Paul, which narrates the
plight of the young virgin Thecla. This
story is what we might expect from a Christianized version of the romance
novel. As Richard Baukham explains:
The story of Thecla is of special interest because it
is the only part of the Acts of Paul
in which a character other than Paul takes centre-stage and because it bears a
very close relationship to the themes of the Greek novels that tell the story
of two lovers (such as Chariton’s Chaereas
and Callirhoe, and Xenephon’s Ephesiaca).
. . . Thecla, like the heroines of the novels, is a beautiful young girl who
preserves her chastity and remains faithful to her beloved through trials and
dangers in which she comes close to death but experiences divine deliverance. Thamyris and Alexander are unwanted suitors
such as appear in the novels. Unlike
the heroines of the novels, of course, Thecla’s chastity is not temporary, but
permanent, and represents her total devotion to God. But her devotion to God is also devotion to his apostle Paul, and
the author does not hesitate to depict this devotion in terms which, while not
intended to be sexual, parallel the erotic (cf. Athe 8-10, 18-19). As in the case of the heroes and heroines of
the novels, the plot partly turns on the separation of Paul and Thecla, her
search for and reunion with him (Athe 21-25, 40-41). Thecla’s offer to cut her hair short in order to follow Paul
where he goes and her adoption of male dress when she travels in search of Paul
[resemble] the novelistic theme of a woman traveling in male disguise to escape
detection. The wealthy upper-class
circles in which the story takes place, including the historical figure of the
emperor’s relative Tyrphaena, are also consonant with the character of the
Greek novels. It seems clear that the
story of Thecla has been directly modeled on the themes of the Greek erotic
novel. . . .[55]
So, we have clear novelistic elements of Romance, but
adapted for its Christian message and audience. There are other examples:
● The Acts of
John includes a story about the pious Druisiana being romantically pursued
by “a messenger of Satan.” She was so
pious she had even “separated herself” from her husband for a time. After she died, the “messenger of Satan”
defiled her corpse.
● In the Acts of
Peter, the martyrdom of Peter’s wife is described, even recounting the last
words of Peter to his wife.
● In the Acts of
Thomas, a king’s daughter is getting married. At the wedding, Thomas sings a mystical bridal song and persuades
the bride and groom to renounce marriage.
There is also a side story of a flute-girl who obviously becomes
infatuated with Thomas. After his song,
she was “gazing and looking earnestly upon him” and “loved him well.”
● In the Acts of
Andrew, it is lending aid to a woman in distress that lands Andrew on a
cross. Maximilla is the wife of the
proconsul of Greece. Following her
conversion by Andrew, Maximilla wants to escape from her husband and Andrew
encourages her to do so. When she is
successful in leaving him, the proconsul has Andrew crucified. Maximilla saw to it that Andrew received a
proper burial.
While
it is true that these “romances” are different than the pagan ones in that the
emphasis is often on abstinence even within marriage, the similarities
remain. Women in distress or difficult
situations are followed through until resolution of their plight. As noted by Goodspeed and Grant, this
Christian fiction was “valuable as a substitute for the romances current among
Greeks and Romans. It is sometimes
supposed that these romances were characterized by what we should call
pornography, but generally speaking they were rather edifying narratives of
love and adventure. The emphasis put on
sex in their Christian counterparts is rather more impressive, in spite of –
and partly because of – the enthusiasm of the heroes and heroines for
asceticism.”[56] That the romantic features of ancient
fiction are so common in the apocryphal Acts but absent from Acts itself is
telling. It counts heavily against Acts
being an ancient novel.
H. Conclusion
The
elements of Acts that Pervo identifies as demonstrating historical fiction fail
to persuade because they are also characteristic of historiography. Moreover, Pervo fails to adequately explain features
of Acts that were unknown in historical fiction, such as the historical
preface, the abrupt ending, and the abundance of speeches.
V. Summary
After
reviewing the potentially applicable genres, Acts stands out as a work of
ancient history. Though he viewed
himself as continuing the historical work of recording God’s unfolding plan of
salvation, the goal of the author of Acts was to write about real people and
real events. As Professor Aune
concludes, “Luke-Acts is popular ‘general history’ written by an amateur
Hellenistic historian with credentials in Greek rhetoric.”[57]
CHAPTER 2: THE
HISTORICITY OF THE ACTS OF THE APOTLES
I. The
Challenges Faced by Ancient Writers
The
author of Acts faced a problem common among ancient writers: a lack of records
and information. Unlike today, there
were no – or very few – reference books, encyclopedias, or textbooks
available. As for geography, “exact and
detailed geographical knowledge on the basis of maps and accurate descriptions
of places was limited to a very tiny elite of soldiers, politicians and
scholars, and even with them, personal knowledge of a place was irreplaceable.”[58] Maps or other resources that were available
were often wildly inaccurate. Even
educated writers with connections to the areas they were writing about often
demonstrated imperfect geographic or political knowledge. “That even educated Jews had little
information about the geography of Palestine is clear from the imaginary
description of Judea and Jerusalem in the Letter of Aristeas or that of the
Holy City by Pseudo-Hecataeus; we can presuppose that even Philo had only a
vague knowledge of Jerusalem, the Temple and the Holy Land, though he did visit
it once in his life.”[59]
Otherwise
well regarded historians and geographers got a lot wrong, especially about
Judea.
[T]o Strabo’s account of Palestine, which has a great
many errors in it, and to the confused remarks of Pliny the Elder, who
completely muddled up his sources.
Tacitus, too, had only very inaccurate ideas of the geographical
relationship of Samaria and Galilee within the province of Judaea. Even Ptolemy, who sought to give exact
locations of places in Palestine with indications of longitude and latitude,
makes serious mistakes: his mention of
Idumeaea, which lies well to the west of the Jordan’ is an anachronism in the
second century AD and his location of S
