rgprice wrote: ↑Mon Jan 09, 2023 4:38 am
I don't agree that all of the Gospel writers knew each other. I mean, maybe, but that's just conjecture. But more important, if the Gospel writers knew each other, then why is it that other than possibly John, no one else knew who the real Gospel writers were? Also, many are writing in opposition to the other.
It seems to me that if the Gospel were all written in a short span around 140 by people who knew each other, then there would have been a greater understanding of who the real authors were. Instead, other than John, it seems no one had any idea who wrote these works. And even which John was misunderstood. So, I don't see how it could have been that chummy of a club and that out in the open, and for so much to have been unknown by everyone else.
I also find the idea that Marcion started his Gospel, then others got a copy of it and modified it, then get got their copies and worked their changes back into his, an entirely fantastical idea that is just grasping at straws. I think more likely, there are simply more lost intermediate versions of the stories that make understanding the relationships too complicated because we are missing too many puzzle pieces. And on top of that, the Canonical Gospels were all edited in the presence of one another, so the editor of the NT collection cross-referenced the Gospels against themselves, making modifications to all of them with the knowledge of all of them.
Even the naming of John is suspect.
I wonder about the canonical gospels and perhaps some of the so-called apocryphal gospels being written in -
- a rhetorical school ie. a school [or even across two or more schools] which taught students about the rhetorical, philosophical discourses of the times; or
- (maybe a hairesis / αἵρεσις. Maybe not, or maybe one not so [potentially] sectarian)
- other type of paideia.
- as part of advanced
progymnasmata - a series of preliminary rhetorical exercises used for and by early-teen students of rhetoric - in a
paedeia that specialised in rhetoric.
See
viewtopic.php?p=114565#p114565 (and Ben C Smith's post following):
MrMacSon wrote: ↑Sun Nov 15, 2020 4:11 am
Students were introduced to simple
chreiai almost as soon as they could read. Later they practiced the complex grammar of Greek by putting these
chreiai through changes of voice and tense. As one of the last stages of the
progymnasmata students would elaborate the theme of a
chreiai into a formal eight-paragraph essay. Each student would praise, paraphrase, explain, contrast, compare, provide an example, make a judgment, and, in conclusion, exhort the reader.
In his book,
The Gnostic Discoveries (Harper Collins, 2005), Marvin Meyer noted the words of wisdom attributed to Jesus in Christian texts, mainly in the Gospels in the NT, qualify as chreiai. An example is in Mark 13: 1-2:
.
As Jesus was leaving the temple, one of his disciples said to him, “Look, Teacher! What massive stones! What magnificent buildings!”
2 “Do you see all these great buildings?” replied Jesus. “Not one stone here will be left on another; every one will be thrown down.” [NRSV]
.
The famous passage in Luke 20: 21-25 also has the typical structure of a chreia, though its length is somewhat unusual:
.
So they asked him, “Teacher, we know that you are right in what you say and teach, and you show deference to no one, but teach the way of God in accordance with truth. 22 Is it lawful for us to pay taxes to the emperor, or not?” 23 But he perceived their craftiness and said to them, 24 “Show me a denarius. Whose head and whose title does it bear?” They said, “The emperor’s.”
25 He said to them, “Then give to the emperor the things that are the emperor’s, and to God the things that are God’s.” 26 And they were not able in the presence of the people to trap him by what he said; and being amazed by his answer, they became silent. [NRSV]
.
... The progymnasmata were taught in order, increasing in difficulty as the course advances. The courses were organized to begin with story-telling and end with making an argument. There was a focus on literature as a supplement to the course, paying close attention to models of rhetoric and literature.
Confirmation (
kataskeuē)
... The student was asked to reason in favor of something drawn from legends and literature.
Encomium (
enkōmion)
Students used encomium to praise persons, things, times, places, animals, and growing things. Each praise could be engendered from the headings upbringing, deeds, skills, and sometimes was in the form of a comparison with another person, an epilogue, or a prayer.
Comparison (
synkrisis)
The comparison exercise acts as a double encomium or a combination of an encomium of one person or thing and the invective against another.
Personification (
ēthopoeia)
Students used personification or
ethopoeia by forming a speech ascribed to the ghost of a known person or of an imaginary or mythological character from past, present, or future times. This exercise was intended to request students to perform it with clarity, conciseness, and floridity.
Description (
ekphrasis)
When asked to use
ekphrasis to describe a person, place, thing, or time, students were obliged to produce a description that was complete. Included was detailed information about a person from head-to-toe, an action from start to finish, etc. This form is seen in many classical literature and historical writings.
Argument
Because this exercise is an introduction to argument in the philosophical schools, the use of thesis was not performed until first completing all previous exercises. Students had to come up with a thesis argument of their own nature; these questions were often ones difficult to answer.
Introduction to law (
nomou eisphora)
Aphtonius calls this final exercise a
gymnasma rather than progymnasmata. This exercise is in the form of advocacy of a proposed law or opposition of it. The argument is first stated, a counterargument follows, and then the headings are discussed
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Progymnas ... Aphthonius
Robyn Faith Walsh says in the Introduction to
The Introduction of Early Christian Literature, short after she mentioned
paedeia (though she later notes that "participation in
paideia or certain literate preparation [did not] guarantee the competency to write plot narrative.").
... certain rhetorical approaches deployed in the gospels contribute to the notion that they are somehow exceptional. These writers tell us that Jesus is divinely authorized through his birthright, teachings, and wonder-working as a son of God – a powerful figure, even if a social underdog. He is portrayed in turns as a riddler and purveyor of esoteric knowledge or an ethical teacher and miracle-worker. And, unlike the notable statesmen, poets, and philosophers who populated civic biographies, Jesus’ extraordinary wit and otherworldly superpowers reveal his authority and status. In combination, these features communicate that Jesus is an unparalleled figure and suggest that the gospel genre is an innovative departure from previous literary forms. Yet when compared with other first-century literature, the Jesus of the gospels can be fruitfully compared with the Cynics, Aesop, the pastoral heroes of the Greek novel, or witty underdogs in the biographical tradition, the subject of Chapter 5.
Moreover, many of the topoi used by the gospel writers convey Jesus’ special standing, but they do so through familiar literary allusions – the empty tomb, for instance, is found throughout Greek and Roman literature and material culture (e.g., the novel and numerous paradoxographical fragments) to indicate supernatural status. Even strategic omissions, like anonymity, are common tricks of the trade among imperial writers and can be understood without associations with memory traditions or communal authorship, as I discuss in Chapter 4. [pp.9-10]
Chapter 4 posits that many seemingly unique elements of the gospels are fully intelligible within the context of other first-century Greco-Roman writing strategies. I highlight three features in particular. First, I argue that the gospels’ descriptions of Judea engage a familiar literary trope that looks to exotic or bucolic settings to discuss the relative virtues and vices of Roman imperialism. I suggest that this kind of literature often appears in the aftermath of military conflict, which helps explain the emergence of – and general interest in – the gospels following the Judean War.
Second, I reexamine several topoi central to Jesus’ bios (e.g., crucifixion, empty tomb, fellowship meals) and establish that they are well attested elsewhere in first- and second-century literature, including the often overlooked Satyrica.
Finally, I argue that the gospels engage in a certain “anti-intellectualism” that denies traditional paideia in favor of supernatural inspiration, offering examples of other writers making similar claims – particularly when their subject matter includes talk of the gods, pastoral or “natural” locations, or rural people. Chapter 5 builds on this approach by mapping out how one can understand the gospels as a form of “subversive biography” that inverts the expectations of civic lives by focusing on social underdogs who get by on their wits and/or wonder-working, rather than military strength or brawn (e.g., The Alexander Romance, Aesop). In combination, these literary strategies help us understand why the subjects of Judea, Judaism, Jesus, and his death were interesting to imperial writers and ultimately compelling to a broad audience – without invoking the language of (or assumptions about) Christian communities.
While she warns at one point that "participation in
paideia or certain literate preparation guarantee [does not] the competency to write plot narrative," Walsh notes that, “"Living libraries like Longinus or Porphyry were understood to have reached a “culminating point of
paideia, at the summit of grammar and rhetoric” within their literary circles," and “Roman adaptation of Greek paideia came to reflect a "highly competitive world of elite ambition",” quoting Whitmarsh,
Greek Literature and the Roman Empire, 5.
Within their libraries were the usual suspects – Homer, the Medea, Plato, Isocrates, legal texts, love spells, medical recipes – along with copies of “Christian texts” such as the letters of Paul, the Gospel of Matthew, the Gospel of Mary, the Gospel of Thomas, and so forth. One flax merchant, a man by the name of Leonides, appears to have owned at least portions of Paul’s letter to the Romans.45 How these books operated as a tool of social and cultural membership is an open question (for example, might they have been “for show”?) ...
... To be able to compose original pieces of literature, a writer required continued instruction or independent study. This continued instruction might take place under a notable philosopher, rhetorical specialist, or in some cases in later antiquity, a rabbi ...
One option for further study was to gain entry into a library or the scholasterion (“study house”) of a willing patron. Cicero, for instance, describes going to the country home of Lucullus at Tusculum and seeing Cato in the library, “with many Stoic books piled up around him (multis circumfusum Stoicorum libris).” Plutarch also paints a picture of Lucullus and his library as a meetinghouse for intellectual pursuits ...
After receiving sufficient training to try their hand at an original piece of writing, authors required the aid of a network of other literate specialists who might sponsor the production of a particular text, circulate writings for critique, gather for recitations or other private readings, and ultimately publish works ...
... not all authors were able to luxuriate in the mastery of language like members of Roman high society. The modest skills of the author of the Gospel of Mark or the Latin Historia Apollonii Regis Tyri (History of Apollonius King of Tyre), for instance, demonstrate that there were varying degrees to which a writer possessed expertise. However, with functional literacy the purview of so few, the processes of training and intellectual development – as well as the nature of social exchange involved in the production and circulation of writings – likely followed along a similar trajectory in other literary (sub)fields. It therefore follows that authors like the gospel writers were constrained by the same practical aspects of writing ancient literature as any other writer in the ancient world; that is, they required the same relative levels of education, necessary training, and associated social networks. They possessed a certain habitus and composed their writings under the same plausible and practical conditions as other writers within their field of literary production in antiquity. [pp.120-1]
45 Luijendijk, “The Gospel of Mary at Oxyrhynchus (P. Oxy. L 3525 and P. Ryl. III 463),” 399.
