Biblical Criticism & History Forum - earlywritings.com

Ben C. Smith wrote:I have found many of the items unpersuasive in the past. . .

Much comes down to how we read Mark more generally, I think. There is very little I find in Mark that reads naturally. But Matthew and/or Luke have ironed out many of the oddities so it is easy to miss just how bizarre and unreal Mark does sound at so many levels. Hence the long held view that he was an incompetent compiler of disparate traditions, but . . . .

Ben C. Smith wrote:

neilgodfrey wrote:

Ben C. Smith wrote:It seems hard for some of us to wrap our head around the idea that the reference to Simon might be glowingly positive, while it seems patently obvious to Peter that it might well be so.

No, no, no. I'm not denying the positive role of Joseph of A at all. Of course it is "patently obvious".

I am so confused. I said Simon, not Joseph of Arimathea. Did you mean Simon, and Joseph was a typo? Or did you read me as saying Joseph? ...?

I'm confusing myself, too. Sorry, you have every right to be confused -- yes, I meant Simon of C and have corrected it in my original comment now.

Ben C. Smith wrote:

Peter Kirby wrote:No worries. This thread is developing so quickly, I'm also having a hard time keeping up and making sure that I don't miss replies.

I think you may have missed one of mine in response to Neil, where I pointed out that Matthew keeps the names of the sons of Mary after all.

Ben.

I think you might be right.

neilgodfrey wrote:No, no, no. I'm not denying the positive role of Simon of C at all. Of course it is "patently obvious".

And are you also saying that the negative interpretation is obvious, so you find you cannot decide between them? (It is completely okay with me if you are just canvassing various options; I am just trying to understand your position.)

neilgodfrey wrote:The argument for Joseph of A being negative....

.... For Simon of C:

1. He does nothing voluntarily. He is dragooned.
2. He is not following Jesus but "passing by".
3. He is compelled to participate in the execution of Jesus -- forced to share the blame.

neilgodfrey wrote:

toejam wrote:Attempts to find symbolic meaning often seem quite stretched.

Proposed symbolic meanings are not the same as probabilities that there were originally symbolic meanings now lost to us.

I want to agree with both of you (and with neither).

(1) We should be aware of the extent to which things that seem 'stretched' to us may have seemed 'unstretched' to the audience. One example is the 'Gnostic' interpretations of Simon (and the 30 years and the 12 months, etc.). They seem stretched to us, because we are familiar with reading gMark on essentially 'catholic' hermeneutical principles, but doing so might just be begging the whole question of the historical, social context of the Gospel of Mark. What, as Neil asks, if the context were Basilidean or Valentinian or Marcionite or something like that?

(2) At the same time, we should be circumspect to the degree to which some particular proposals are 'stretched' to the breaking point at which we can reasonable conclude that they are rather absurd as proposals in the historical context (without being able to put my finger on exactly why in a way that would necessarily convince Carrier, his suggestion about Alexander the Great and Musonius Rufus falls in that category for me, and even Carrier himself seems to propose it only half-heartedly--mostly, though, just that I can't imagine Mark expecting his readers to go "oh! yes! Alexander the Great and Musonius Rufus! and he's the father of them both! oh ho ho! jolly well, this is just getting good" or whatever, and not just end up scratching their heads completely nonplussed if this were the authorial intent... but than that means it would not be the authorial intent, unless the author of Mark were, essentially, a complete nitwit).

(3) We should be aware that there are readings that may be completely lost to us and that could only be arrived at by a guess, not that we should expect that we would necessarily make that guess or know the right guess was made if we were to make it.

(4) On the other hand, we shouldn't use this as a cheesy 'out' in order to prop up the likelihood of some lost 'symbolic meaning' (or any other kind of meaning). We should be aware of the actual extent of the information that we have on early Christianity and its historical context, which is respectable enough that the material takes years to absorb to a level of competence, and we should be aware of the actual extent of the attempts to find exegetical explanations of the New Testament texts, which are equivalent to the parable of the million monkeys banging on typewriters: one of them should eventually be expected to produce the 'Shakespeare' of the correct answer, even if they weren't able to prove it or know it were correct. Thus it is to be counted somewhat against a so-called 'symbolic meaning' (whatever that means exactly) if the only ones that may seem more plausible are the ones that are 'lost' and not yet proposed to be evaluated, while all the ones that are proposed to be evaluated are themselves seemingly implausible (or, at least, on the level of non-credibility that Carrier's, e.g., has). In short, if the only not-improbable explanation of this type is the type that has not been proposed at all, that itself is not very probable (and becomes increasingly improbable with each passing year and with each person investigating ideas for 'thoroughgoing allegory' or some such as an interpretation of Mark).

(5) Not being able to prove a certain interpretation to be the most probable one is not the same thing as the interpretation being implausible (and only the latter is the most relevant meaning of 'stretched' here in the context of these discussions, initially conceived [way back on page one] as a way to show the authorial intent of Mark to speak of a real person Simon, or as evidence of the historicity of Jesus).

Perhaps just a coincidence, but the parallels are at least worthy of a mention. Mark identifies a Simon of Cyrene as the father of Alexander and Rufus.

Josephus (Wars 7.11) wrote of a Jew named Alexander who was involved in the tumult in Cyrene that involved thousands in the immediate aftermath of the war. The turmoil may have become widely known.

According to Josephus, this Jewish Alexander of Cyrene was betrayed by a sicarii, unjustly accused, and executed by the Roman governor of the province.

Ben C. Smith wrote:

neilgodfrey wrote:No, no, no. I'm not denying the positive role of Simon of C at all. Of course it is "patently obvious".

And are you also saying that the negative interpretation is obvious, so you find you cannot decide between them? (It is completely okay with me if you are just canvassing various options; I am just trying to understand your position.)

I'm sure the negative role of Simon of C is not obvious to the average Christian/Western reader today. I imagine our first impulse is to read Simon of C as the one who showed up Peter and in some sense set the example for how the follower of Jesus should live.

Mark at one point does indeed point us to this interpretation by having Jesus instruct his followers to take up the cross and follow him.

At the same time, however, it seems most or certainly very much of Mark turns out to be ambiguous on closer reading and reflection.

One begins to think Mark is being deliberately ambiguous at so many points in his gospel.

Did he mean the entire gospel to be a parable, a hidden message? Did John [at least in the original rendition of his gospel] directly oppose Mark's message or expose it?

I don't know how to read Mark. I have some suspicions but I am willing to jettison those to hear any other arguments. I am pretty sure he is writing symbolically but I can't explain many of the symbols if that's the case. Maybe he was just a crumby writer after all.

I often find myself falling down a bottomless pit after I try to think through certain questions about Mark for any length of time.

I suppose if I have a position on the Gospel of Mark it is that I think it is remarkably opaque -- certainly very often ambiguous -- and not at all obvious in the way the other gospels are.

robert j wrote:Perhaps just a coincidence, but the parallels are at least worthy of a mention. Mark identifies a Simon of Cyrene as the father of Alexander and Rufus.

Josephus (Wars 7.11) wrote of a Jew named Alexander who was involved in the tumult in Cyrene that involved thousands in the immediate aftermath of the war. The turmoil may have become widely known.

According to Josephus, this Jewish Alexander of Cyrene was betrayed by a sicarii, unjustly accused, and executed by the Roman governor of the province.

The type of involvement may also be worth mentioning. He was a Jew, he was especially accused, and he was executed. Not only that but there was a certain 'quarrel' and 'hatred' between him and Catullus, 'the governor of the Libyan Pentapolis'.

There was a time when a certain type of exegesis (now widely discredited) would interpret this Alexander as a Christian martyr (a Jew, hated, especially accused, and executed). It is widely discredited today, as not a secure way to reason about history, which is not to say that it is completely absurd as a possibility in all cases.

Perhaps Alexander was not known as a person alive at the time of Mark's writing but as a person who was executed, if this reference is relevant. On the other hand, the chances of a coincidence are quite good with a name such as Alexander.

1. AND now did the madness of the Sicarii, like a disease, reach as far as the cities of Cyrene; for one Jonathan, a vile person, and by trade a weaver, came thither and prevailed with no small number of the poorer sort to give ear to him; he also led them into the desert, upon promising them that he would show them signs and apparitions. And as for the other Jews of Cyrene, he concealed his knavery from them, and put tricks upon them; but those of the greatest dignity among them informed Catullus, the governor of the Libyan Pentapolis, of his march into the desert, and of the preparations he had made for it. So he sent out after him both horsemen and footmen, and easily overcame them, because they were unarmed men; of these many were slain in the fight, but some were taken alive, and brought to Catullus. As for Jonathan, the head of this plot, he fled away at that time; but upon a great and very diligent search, which was made all the country over for him, he was at last taken. And when he was brought to Catullus, he devised a way whereby he both escaped punishment himself, and afforded an occasion to Catullus of doing much mischief; for he falsely accused the richest men among the Jews, and said that they had put him upon what he did.

2. Now Catullus easily admitted of these his calumnies, and aggravated matters greatly, and made tragical exclamations, that he might also be supposed to have had a hand in the finishing of the Jewish war. But what was still harder, he did not only give a too easy belief to his stories, but he taught the Sicarii to accuse men falsely. He bid this Jonathan, therefore, to name one Alexander, a Jew (with whom he had formerly had a quarrel, and openly professed that he hated him); he also got him to name his wife Bernice, as concerned with him. These two Catullus ordered to be slain in the first place; nay, after them he caused all the rich and wealthy Jews to be slain, being no fewer in all than three thousand. This he thought he might do safely, because he confiscated their effects, and added them to Caesar's revenues.

There is also a reference to a Rufus (other than the one in Rom 16) that would tend to suggest that a 'Rufus' is known as a martyr himself. That's the text known as "Polycarp to the Philippians."

http://www.earlychristianwritings.com/t ... berts.html

I exhort you all, therefore, to yield obedience to the word of righteousness, and to exercise all patience, such as ye have seen [set] before your eyes, not only in the case of the blessed Ignatius, and Zosimus, and Rufus, but also in others among yourselves, and in Paul himself, and the rest of the apostles.

If this text can speak of 'Rufus' as if he were a known entity as a martyr (a plausible if not necessary interpretation since Ignatius was known as a martyr and Rufus is placed particularly in the list with him as an example), and if Rom 16 can likewise refer to a 'Rufus' (particularly if Rom 16 is a later addition), then that may go some way towards explaining how a 'Rufus' could be used to identify, as his 'father', this 'Simon'.

neilgodfrey wrote:Much comes down to how we read Mark more generally, I think. There is very little I find in Mark that reads naturally. But Matthew and/or Luke have ironed out many of the oddities so it is easy to miss just how bizarre and unreal Mark does sound at so many levels. Hence the long held view that he was an incompetent compiler of disparate traditions, but . . . .

I appreciate the effort to weed Matthew and Luke out of Mark; I am all in favor of it, and strive to do so myself. I am not ashamed to admit that Mark is simply my favorite gospel; I love its little oddities, its strange mixure of Aramaicisms and Latinisms, the way it ascribes such emotional swings to its main character, its starkness, its darkness, its intercalations, its apocalyptic moments, its raw miracles ripped straight from the LXX. I reject that he was incompetent; I am at peace with the possibility that he regarded it as a work in progress; I think that, whatever he thought he was creating at the time, he ended up basically creating (or at least jumpstarting) a new genre or subgenre: gospel of Jesus Christ, which grew to be quite an important kind of text in the early church.

I have been seriously evaluating my predilections of late, those deeply held ways of approaching the text (any text). I think I am far from changing any of them, but I have made some headway in identifying them.

Take the name game we were talking about, for example. I like the idea that Mary and her husband (not going to say Joseph, since we are reading Mark without help from Matthew and Luke) simply gave their four children popular Jewish names, and Mark recorded it. Lest you suspect that it is all about the historicity, consider that I also like the idea that Mark invented the whole tale, pretty much top to bottom, but included such details simply for verisimilitude, them being popular Jewish names and all. But like is not a strong enough word here. Both of those options make sense to me on a very deep level. Both seem inherently plausible and easy, very easy for me to accept as modus operandi for what Mark is doing in such cases.

But start to propose complicated schemes in which those names are code words for certain Jewish revolutionaries, or certain aspects of the early church, or a wink and a nudge in the direction of the patriarchs... and it just does not feel right to me. I find it very hard to accept.

Part of what turns me off in such cases may well be the very multiplicity of possibilities, and the fact that even those who think a game is being played either completely disagree on the rules or have to freely admit that all kinds of things are possible. Maybe that is just too loosey-goosey for me. When it comes, say, to a lot of the miracles and signs and such, the playing field seems very different. One can suppose that Jesus really did work a miracle, or one can suppose that the tradition just kind of slowly attributed a miracle to him, or one can notice the intense allusions to the LXX and suspect that somebody simply constructed the miracle based on that authoritative text; at best perhaps there was a kernal of an idea there before someone took the LXX to it. I subscribe to the latter without hesitation, and I have no problem at all with Mark himself being the one who constructed it.

But the name games, with so many options? Part of my brain acknowledges that such games are perfectly possible; authors can indeed do very strange things with their texts. My guess, though, is that if someone figures out what Mark was doing along those lines to such a level of persuasion that the theory sways the field, that person will probably not be Ben C. Smith. That kind of thinking is apparently just not my forte. I think an author has to really take steps to clue me in to the fact that he or she is working in code; and I also think that modern authors do this for me a lot more often than ancient ones do. That may be because I am naturally and understandably better at picking up modern genre clues than ancient ones; it may also be because such games feel more modern to me than ancient, and attributing them to an ancient author feels anachronistic to me. And I may well be completely wrong about that; but again, I am talking about deeply felt ways of approaching the text, not necessarily things I am always conscious of without a great deal of introspection.

I hope I am not leading this thread too far off topic. As I said, it is something I have been thinking about a lot lately.

Ben.

Ben C. Smith wrote:. . . make sense to me on a very deep level. . . .

I am still struggling (often painfully) through Hal Childs' "The Myth of the Historical Jesus" and his frighteningly deep discussion of what "makes sense to us on very deep levels". I'm sure there must be a simpler way to get the concepts across without delving into Jung and Heidegger.

Ben C. Smith wrote:But start to propose complicated schemes in which those names are code words for certain Jewish revolutionaries, or certain aspects of the early church, or a wink and a nudge in the direction of the patriarchs... and it just does not feel right to me.

Understood. I think some of the difficulty comes from jumping into questions such as this one from perspectives that are largely left at the door. I envy those writers who can couch everything they say concisely within at least the qualifications and rationales for their points. The primary interest for me is the way the gospel as a whole is put together and the questions of interpretation that arise from all the ambiguities. Tolbert's explanation of the parable of the sower theme running through the gospel coheres with other studies on Mark's "theological geography/itineraries" and with the several characters/events that seem to foreshadow the end (e.g. the Gerasene demoniac and the young man in the tomb etc etc etc) -- and did I mention the damned ambiguities?

Or maybe we just have different perspectives and what feels wrong to you feels right to me for whatever reason.

(Not that I necessarily buy Fredricksen's explanation for the names of Jesus' brothers as "obvious" or "certain", by the way. I mention it because, well, Paula's not a fool and it's another perspective to be considered. She might be right, but I don't know. I don't believe Mark wrote about Jesus' family for any "historical preservation" reasons. The incidents are too closely tailored to the common motif of the godly man being rejected by his own as far as I can see.)

P.S.
We also know ancient literature of a comparable kind did like the use of symbolic names.