His Opponents’ Inconsistency (24:20–21)
14
Some Rhetorical Techniques in Acts 24:2–21
Some scholars question the value of rhetorical criticism for examining Paul’s letters, because letters, though influenced by the same general forms of argument as speeches, were not speeches. For what it is worth, ancient rhetorical theorists apparently treated letters and speeches separately. ¹⁰⁰⁶ Although Paul expected most of his letters to be read publicly and included more argumentation than in normal letters, such questions must be considered especially relevant when suggesting rhetorical outlines for letters. ¹⁰⁰⁷
By contrast, however, one might expect a writer such as Luke to use whatever rhetorical principles he was familiar with in fleshing out the outlines of speeches in his sources, and the more literate members of Luke’s ideal audience would expect this especially in Paul’s forensic speeches later in Acts. Granted, Luke does not flesh out rhetorically complete speeches for his public speakers such as we find in most ancient histories. Various features of Paul’s speeches, however, may reflect what ancient audiences would have typically expected based on their experiences of hearing public speech. Because Luke portrays Paul’s defense as successful (as he elsewhere portrays him as a Roman citizen and a competent philosophic teacher), we would expect him to take special care in reporting or constructing these speeches.
In this article, I survey some possible rhetorical techniques that appear in the speeches of Acts 24. I focus here primarily on points where ancient forensic arguments may shed light on Paul’s defense and the charges to which he must answer. Although my focus is on Paul’s rhetorical techniques, I must also address the charges against him in Tertullus’s speech in 24:2–8. These are valuable for the purpose of comparison and contrast with Paul’s speech, an approach that would have been used by ancient interpreters familiar with rhetorical and literary conventions.¹⁰⁰⁸
I am suggesting only some rhetorical parallels and their significance for understanding the speeches, not providing a running commentary nor challenging earlier assessments of their rhetorical structure. Not surprisingly, the outline of all Paul’s defense speeches in Acts 22–26 fit general characteristics of judicial speeches, although this genre could exhibit considerable variety.¹⁰⁰⁹ Other scholars have suggested helpful rhetorical outlines for these speeches in Acts or focused on the suitability of their introductions.¹⁰¹⁰
Because my focus is on rhetorical strategies that ancients would recognize and not simply those standard in Roman law courts, I draw from the larger ancient Mediterranean rhetorical tradition from classical Athens through the Empire. It is the ancient rhetorical handbooks that scholars most frequently mine for strategies, but other scholars sometimes challenge this approach by pointing out that rhetorical practice often differed from the advice of the theorists. Thus I have sought to provide insights and examples from a wider range of rhetorically informed sources in addition to the more explicit (and I believe still valuable) principles formulated in rhetorical handbooks. Although preferences in matters of particular style changed over the centuries, many rhetorical strategies persisted. I have therefore deliberately drawn examples from a wide chronological spectrum to reinforce their continuity and probably pervasiveness.
Some ancient rhetorical techniques seem to us perfectly logical arguments that would occur to someone without rhetorical training (like Paul) or even without influence from a larger culture of rhetoric (unlike Paul). Nevertheless, other strategies seem to reflect specific rhetorical influence. Distinguishing one from the other is best preceded by surveying the variety of rhetorical techniques used, which is the goal of this article.
Luke and Paul
Before examining specific rhetorical strategies, I should note what this examination cannot provide. Although I believe that Luke has accurately summarized the substance of his sources here, adapting them for his work’s frame where necessary, the rhetorical strategies used do not in themselves specify their author. Their writings reveal that both Luke and Paul were familiar with many rhetorical strategies from the larger culture, with or without specific training in them. Thus one could argue either that the strategies in this passage belong to Luke’s genuine summary of Paul or that they belong to Luke’s freedom as a historian to recreate what was plausibly said on the occasion.¹⁰¹¹
Bruce Winter has plausibly suggested that Luke may have had access to official summaries of the arguments offered in court; historians could employ legal documents as sources when summarizing litigation.¹⁰¹² Brief minutes summarizing court proceedings were certainly common, and there is no reason to doubt that a companion of Paul during this period (as I and many others understand the first-person plural in Acts 21:17–18; 27:1–2) could have gained access to them.¹⁰¹³ The detailed argumentation in Paul’s letters renders questionable any skepticism about Paul’s ability, especially in such crucial circumstances, to prepare a persuasive forensic speech. Potentially, a companion of Paul might have even had access to Paul’s own notes for his defense (if such notes existed in this case; cf. Luke 12:11–12; 21:12–15). Many ancient rhetoricians also recorded forensic speeches to display their oratorical skills, though not always the same versions they delivered in court.¹⁰¹⁴
Given Luke’s rhetorical prowess reflected in other speeches in Acts, however, one could also argue that he is responsible for many or all the rhetorical details in Paul’s defense speeches in Acts. The degree to which details of the speeches reflect Luke’s sources as well as his own literary skills has long been debated and cannot be resolved here. The critical point for this essay, however, is the rhetorical strength of the arguments reflected in Paul’s speech in 24:10–21. Paul’s defense of himself without use of another advocate further reinforces Luke’s portrait of Paul as an educated and rhetorically adequate sage, an adequacy bestowed by Christ’s help (Luke 12:11–12; 21:13–15; Acts 1:8).
Tertullus’s Opening (24:2–4)
To read Paul’s defense in context, we must understand the charges against him, charges put forward by a rhetor (24:1). Because Paul often in Acts (and sometimes in his writings) resembles what people expected of a philosophic teacher or sage, the appearance of a “rhetor” as his adversary might elicit for some members of Luke’s audience the traditional philosophic critique of sophists interested only in persuasion rather than truth.¹⁰¹⁵ This critique was probably less prevalent in the late first century than in earlier times, however, and Luke may simply build suspense by noting the professional skills of Paul’s hired accuser.¹⁰¹⁶ In any case, one expects a rhetor to deliver a rhetorically skilled argument, which raises the expectation for Paul’s response.
The Captatio (24:2–3)
Tertullus naturally begins by praising the governor as eloquently as possible (24:2–3).¹⁰¹⁷ Flattery was a standard feature of the captatio benevolentiae, as scholars regularly point out. It appears in literary texts as well as in speeches,¹⁰¹⁸ and served a natural function when entreating favor.¹⁰¹⁹ Rulers and officials were common objects of flattery,¹⁰²⁰ and moralists often warned them to beware of it.¹⁰²¹ A wide spectrum of ancient Mediterranean literature warns of the dangers of excessive flattery;¹⁰²² rhetoricians, like others, condemned it.¹⁰²³ The frequent warnings themselves likely testify to its prevalence.
Not surprisingly flattery appears in addresses to judges offered both by plaintiffs and defendants, sometimes accompanied with a plea designed to arouse pathos.¹⁰²⁴ In one example of such praise, Cicero claims that he had worked hard to get a fair jury, and now everyone recognizes that this was the most esteemed and fair court in a decade.¹⁰²⁵ Such praise became so standard that it can even form the basis for an analogy with praise for God in a Tannaitic parable.¹⁰²⁶ Professors of rhetoric instructed those arguing cases to win the judges’ favor however possible.¹⁰²⁷
One might especially praise a governor’s or ruler’s concern for peace or public order, as Tertullus does in 24:2.¹⁰²⁸ Praising a judge’s concern for justice or public order implied that the petitioner shared the same concern and supported it in the position they would defend in their speech.¹⁰²⁹ Other surviving examples of captatio benevolentiae emphasize the judge’s competence in the matter being tried; who but a maintainer of peace and public order could better punish the charge of sedition Tertullus was now raising against Paul?¹⁰³⁰
Tertullus’s “flattery” at this point may reflect genuine observations. Felix did suppress much unrest by capturing and executing many robbers,¹⁰³¹ and the priestly leaders sponsoring Tertullus (24:1) might regard Felix as an ally, having lobbied for his accession.¹⁰³² Nevertheless, unrest was increasing and in retrospect few would have regarded his tenure on the whole as peaceful.¹⁰³³ Felix also made his share of enemies among the Judean leaders.¹⁰³⁴ If some of Luke’s audience were familiar with Felix’s tenure or, more generally, familiar with the devastating war that soon followed it (cf. Luke 21:6, 20–24), the irony could appear striking (though hyperbole remained an acceptable part of the genre).¹⁰³⁵ This captatio sets the stage for Paul’s own in Acts 24:10.
Promise of Brevity (24:4)
Orators were known for their long-windedness.¹⁰³⁶ Time was generally limited in public judicial speeches, demanding more conciseness than the speaker might prefer (as Tertullus remarks in 24:4).¹⁰³⁷ Ancient rhetorical critics thus praised speakers who were able to speak adequately yet briefly,¹⁰³⁸ and speakers sometimes promised to communicate as concisely as possible.¹⁰³⁹ (Tertullus’s “lest I weary you” was conventional,¹⁰⁴⁰ as was his request for a hearing.)¹⁰⁴¹ In texts, too, rhetoricians preferred conciseness (which might contribute to the importance of Luke’s brevity here; cf. 2:40).¹⁰⁴²
Quite often claims of imposed brevity, however, served to imply that one could provide still further support for one’s case (or story) if only one had time or space to do so.¹⁰⁴³ One may compare Cicero’s complaint that his opponent’s excessive brevity implied inadequate arguments¹⁰⁴⁴—though when on the other side of the matter Cicero could turn such brevity to his own advantage.¹⁰⁴⁵ This claim to imposed conciseness sometimes functioned as a form of insinuato, implying further information that one would not (and perhaps could not) actually supply.¹⁰⁴⁶ One classical rhetorician complained that the accused had committed so many crimes it would be difficult to know where to end his prosecution.¹⁰⁴⁷ In another case the same orator warned that the accused could not possibly be executed enough times to compensate for his crimes.¹⁰⁴⁸ Tertullus’s promise of brevity is conventional, but if Luke’s record implies the abbreviation of a longer speech (as it certainly must; cf. Acts 2:40), it is possible that rhetorically informed members of his ideal audience could grasp the hint of an incipient attack against Paul in it.
Tertullus’s Charges (24:5–6)
Tertullus’s charges, and the rhetorical way he argues them, serve the narrative by highlighting the strength of Paul’s contrasting case. This problem appears particularly in Tertullus’s use of overstatement and his altering the original charges to sedition, a charge that could be damaging even without proof.
Exaggeration (24:5)
Even in the narrative world, an uninformed hearer would recognize that Tertullus resorts to rhetorical exaggeration to make his point; surely Paul had not stirred unrest among all (pasin) Jews throughout the Roman world (24:5; cf. similar incendiary rhetoric in 17:6; 19:27). Rhetoricians were known to verbally assault the accused in ways that put them in the worst possible light; it was customary to slander the character of one’s opponents in court as viciously as possible.¹⁰⁴⁹ Exaggeration was conventional; thus one could claim that one’s accuser had gone beyond all (apantôn) other people in shamelessness.¹⁰⁵⁰
Not infrequently these verbal assaults descended to the level of clever insults. For example, one orator opines that had the defendant merely killed his own father, this would not require court action, since the defendant’s father was worthless.¹⁰⁵¹ Cicero complains that he bothers to even acknowledge his opponent’s vacuous case only to crush his arrogance.¹⁰⁵² He denounces another defendant with an entire vice list!¹⁰⁵³ Exaggeration is thus conventional, but Luke’s report of this detail makes his omission of evidence supporting the charge all the more plain.
Altered Charges (24:5–6)
The opening accusations (24:5–6) indicate for Luke’s audience that Paul’s opponents have altered the charges against him (21:28)—though the exact nature of those charges had not been widely understood initially in any case (21:34; 23:9; cf. 19:32). For ancient hearers, changing charges during a trial (as 25:7–8 may suggest again) could indicate that the charges are fabricated.¹⁰⁵⁴ For Luke’s audience, the charge that Paul had profaned the temple (21:28) recalls Jesus’s act in the temple and charges against Stephen, building suspense (Luke 19:45–48; Acts 6:13–14).
Paul, however, is a Roman citizen before a Roman official, and Tertullus must be more careful than the mob. His version of the charge is more nuanced (24:6): Paul “attempted” to desecrate the temple. This charge cannot suffice as a capital one by itself; Roman law recognized Judeans’ right to execute gentiles for entering the court of women, but presumably one would have to provide more detail and evidence about a Jew who merely “attempted” to profane it.¹⁰⁵⁵ A governor might deem such a charge an internal religious affair that Judeans could judge by themselves (24:6; as in 18:15)—but not with a capital sentence.
The Charge of Seditio (24:5)
Tertullus and his clients have thus shifted the weight of accusation to an offense for which neither Felix nor Rome had patience (24:5): stirring unrest throughout the Empire. This claim potentially could serve various rhetorical functions. First, it may continue the praise of Felix and by implication pit Paul against him: Paul brings unrest—challenging locally the peace Felix had established (24:2)—throughout the world (in contrast to Jews’ universal praise of Felix, 24:3). One could appeal to a judge’s honor by claiming that the accused had dishonored him. Thus Cicero claimed that Verres had dishonored Marcellus’s name in Sicily,¹⁰⁵⁶ and complained that Verres had such a low opinion of the court that he thought they would acquit him so they could behave the same way.¹⁰⁵⁷
Second, by painting Paul as rhetorically dangerous, Tertullus might pretend to warn Felix in advance not to be persuaded by his deceptive arguments.¹⁰⁵⁸ In their introductory exordium, orators sometimes warned of the persuasive power of their rhetorical adversaries.¹⁰⁵⁹ This was part of the more general rhetorical strategy of lowering expectations for one’s own performance vis-à-vis that of one’s opponent.¹⁰⁶⁰
But neither of these rhetorical functions is certain here, and if they are involved, they appear secondary to the central issue. Tertullus is not simply implying Paul as a threat to Felix’s honor or warning about his sophistry; he is charging him with seditio, stirring sedition—a capital charge. Luke’s informed hearer recognizes that this charge of sedition had led to Jesus’s execution (Luke 23:2, 5, 38), and had earlier compelled Paul to flee (Acts 17:7, 10).
This charge was always a dangerous one, as the reign of the paranoid emperor Tiberius well illustrated. Even in the Republic an orator’s denunciation might include, “Was there ever any riot [seditio] in which he was not the leader?”¹⁰⁶¹ But it may be significant that Claudius had within recent memory used some of this same language against Alexandrian Jews that Jewish accusers now apply to Paul.¹⁰⁶² Ironically, Tertullus’s charge against Luke’s apostle to gentiles appeals to Roman concerns about Jewish instability! As a further irony, this very charge will help send Paul to Rome.
No one was likely to travel to various cities to collect records of unanswered charges against Paul, and it would have been impossible to do this so quickly after Paul’s arrest (24:11). Nevertheless, the cumulative pattern of riots following Paul’s preaching, if demonstrable, could lend credence to this charge. Speakers sometimes contended that the burden of proof rested more heavily on someone who was frequently charged than on someone who had rarely been brought to court.¹⁰⁶³ Had Paul’s Asian Jewish accusers been present, they could have at least claimed that Paul was responsible for the riot in Ephesus (19:23–34)—though even this would be difficult to prove (at least on the basis of the evidence that Luke provides his audience).
In the context of Acts as a whole, the charge against Paul does not stem solely from the riot in the temple (21:28–29; 22:21–22).¹⁰⁶⁴ Paul’s ministry had long been divisive (e.g., 18:6–7; 23:7, 10; cf. Luke 12:51), and Jews in Ephesus may have heard some reports from other cities after Paul’s teaching divided their own community (19:9). Having suffered shame because of a riot responding to Paul’s teaching in Ephesus (19:33–34), and recognizing him by sight in the temple (21:27), they would have undoubtedly informed Paul’s current accusers of these earlier incidents.
Ironically, the informed reader (as opposed to the Jerusalem elders in the story world) recognizes that it was not Paul but his Jewish (13:50; 14:5, 19; 17:5, 14) or pagan (16:19; 19:24–29) accusers that had stirred the earlier mob scenes in Paul’s ministry. Even in Ephesus, Luke points out, no one had resolved a matter in court (19:38–40). (Luke’s apologetic here may address genuine and lingering concerns about Paul’s imprisonments, which also arise in Pauline tradition; cf. Phil 1:17–20; 2 Tim 1:8, 12, 16.)¹⁰⁶⁵
Because a leader of sedition can do little damage without followers, Tertullus must accuse Paul of being a leader of the Nazarenes (24:5).¹⁰⁶⁶ In so doing, he unwittingly attributes to Paul significant political influence (cf. 21:20; 26:26) that complicates the political convenience of simply handing Paul over to his politically influential accusers (24:1, 27; 25:9). Though Paul does not claim a significant constituency of supporters, neither does he deny it!¹⁰⁶⁷ But neither would Felix risk trouble with Jerusalem’s aristocracy “merely to do justice to a single person.”¹⁰⁶⁸ Luke’s audience was aware that, whether in the case of Felix or Pilate, Roman political concerns could influence Roman justice (Luke 22:14–25). To be sure, this admission does not portray the governor favorably; but it was a political reality experienced in the provinces.¹⁰⁶⁹
Further Assertions (24:8–9)
Although both an invitation to investigate further and the appearance of high-class accusers could supplement evidence, Luke’s summary of Tertullus’s accusations conspicuously lacks evidence (a point highlighted by Paul’s response in 24:13, 19). Luke portrays Tertullus and the Jewish elders as offering charges without evidence (see 25:7).
Invitation to Investigate (24:8)
Forensic speakers commonly expressed confidence in the judge or jury, thus implying that the judge’s or jury’s wisdom and sense of justice would support the speakers’ cause.¹⁰⁷⁰ Likewise, speakers might invoke the judge’s responsibility to uphold justice, thus implying that the position the speakers advocate is the just one.¹⁰⁷¹ They could similarly invite hearers to be impartial, with the same implication.¹⁰⁷² Such comments were especially conventional at the end of one’s speech; speakers often “rested their case” by expressing confidence in leaving the final decision with the hearers.¹⁰⁷³ (That the hearers would make the final decision anyway did not need to be stated.)
This pattern could appear with or without evidence. Thus, for example, a speaker could accuse an opponent of serious moral failures, offer a plausible reason for failing to produce witnesses, and then invite the judge to investigate further.¹⁰⁷⁴ Tertullus’s invitation to Felix to investigate the case makes sense. Felix as a provincial governor was not required to follow the ordo; he thus could exercise the discretion to investigate the case extra ordinem, with the inquiry Roman law called cognitio.¹⁰⁷⁵ Thus Tertullus acts confidently by inviting him to investigate further, implying (as in his introductory praises) his certainty of the veracity of his claims (24:8). (Investigation probably implies no more than cross-examination, as in 12:19; 28:18; Luke 23:14. Because Paul is a Roman citizen, the practice of securing information by torture, usually applied only to slaves, will not apply in his case.)¹⁰⁷⁶
Paul offers a similar appeal in 24:11, although this claim is more self-evident; he invites Felix to cross-examine his accusers in 24:20–21 (in a move that would pit them against Lysias’s testimony in 23:28–29). As Bruce Winter puts it regarding 24:10, “Paul reflected the confidence that a rhetor was encouraged to display.”¹⁰⁷⁷
Assertions by High-Status Accusers (24:9)
Luke’s portrayal of Paul’s enemies condemning him (cf. Luke 23:10) by assertions that their charges were true (Acts 24:9) fits his apologetic purpose but also fits typical courtroom language. Typically each side in a case claimed that it was presenting accurate facts,¹⁰⁷⁸ and legal speeches often repeated charges more strenuously than the evidence invited.¹⁰⁷⁹ A prosecutor who asserted charges without proof could conveniently oppose the defendant’s denial by claiming that he was a liar.¹⁰⁸⁰
Since the high priest and these elders (24:1) probably held high legal status as municipal aristocrats in Jerusalem, their testimony could bolster the case; social status was a critical factor in the weight of one’s testimony or charges.¹⁰⁸¹ But none were actually eyewitnesses of the purportedly attempted desecration, as cross-examination would demonstrate (24:13, 19). Luke may emphasize the status of Paul’s accusers to explain why Paul would remain in detention for two years (24:27) and perhaps to provoke a reaction against the legal prejudice that typically favored the rich.¹⁰⁸²
The Beginning of Paul’s Defense (24:10–13)
That Tertullus presents the charges before Paul can respond to them fits. For Luke’s literary purposes: it establishes the issues to be addressed, creates suspense, and climaxes with Paul’s superior argument.¹⁰⁸³ Yet an ancient audience would expect this sequence in any case; the plaintiff or prosecutor nearly always presented his case first.¹⁰⁸⁴ (The rare cases where the reverse was attempted invited special comment and could invite objections.)¹⁰⁸⁵
The brief transition (24:10a) is essential to the sense of the narrative, though Luke could have added suspense by expanding it.¹⁰⁸⁶ Paul proceeds only when Felix nods. This is to be expected; even a bold prospective martyr might await permission before speaking (4 Macc 5:14–15).¹⁰⁸⁷
Paul’s Praise of Felix (24:10)
Compared with Tertullus, Paul is restrained in his recorded praise of Felix (24:10), though he proves more generous in his praise toward some others (26:3). Although the matter is debated, most scholars still concur with H. W. Tajra that Paul’s captatio benevolentiae “was considerably less servile in tone” than Tertullus’s.¹⁰⁸⁸ The brevity of the praise could be simply a matter of editing out details of secondary importance for the sake of conciseness, the importance of which we have noted above (see comment on 24:4). Yet even allowing for such brevity, in hindsight the content of Paul’s praise seems more accurate and less conventional than Tertullus’s. Given Luke’s attention to detail and the appropriateness of Paul’s other opening compliments in Acts (17:22; 26:2–3), the leanness and specificity of this one seems deliberate.
Paul praises Felix not for his acts but for his tenure. Even this wording may be somewhat conventional, though it would at least require the passage of a few years.¹⁰⁸⁹ (Whether the language represents convention or not, the actual length of Felix’s tenure is a debate that need not detain us here. Although he had probably been governor since at least 52 CE and in Judea longer, probably most of Luke’s audience would not know this detail in any event.)¹⁰⁹⁰
Thus it is possible that Luke deliberately portrays Paul as refusing to flatter an unjust governor, just as a respectable philosopher would not (cf. 24:25).¹⁰⁹¹ Writers regularly contrasted frank speech with flattery,¹⁰⁹² and some praised an honorable person who preferred death to flattering those who would judge them.¹⁰⁹³ Frankness regarding Felix would have been safer for Luke than for Paul; at the time Luke writes, his forthright portrayal of Felix’s corruption suggests that the latter has already been discredited or forgotten (cf. 24:26–27;¹⁰⁹⁴ contrast the positive portrayal of Agrippa II). Paul’s bold speech toward Felix, however, is prudently reserved for a private audience (24:25); here he is merely restrained.
Paul’s restrained praise also offers a noticeable specific contrast to the more generous praise of his accuser, Tertullus. If Luke’s ideal audience knows that Felix’s misadministration helped to provoke the Judean revolt that Luke-Acts apparently mourns (Luke 19:41–44; 21:6, 20–24), Tertullus’s praise of Felix’s bringing peace in 24:2 would appear highly ironic.¹⁰⁹⁵ Tertullus may have represented accurately his clients’ appreciation for Felix’s suppression of revolutionaries, but Felix himself would be quite aware that, in contrast to this lawyer’s claim in 24:3, not all Judeans were grateful. Although by usual ancient standards Tertullus’s praise might not seem excessive, it would certainly appear at least misguided to Luke’s informed audience.
Worship Twelve Days Earlier (24:11)
Rhetoricians suggested praising the judge especially on matters that would generate appreciation for one’s position.¹⁰⁹⁶ Paul’s simple appeal is to Felix’s years of experience in Judea (24:10), which qualifies him to understand well the custom to which Paul alludes in 24:11. Luke’s audience would understand that it would be helpful to have a judge acquainted with the issues surrounding both sides of a case.¹⁰⁹⁷ Felix in fact had some familiarity with Judaism and the Jesus movement (24:22, 24). But he would not need to be an expert in Jewish customs (cf. 26:3) to know when festivals occurred; in fact, Roman governors normally garrisoned Jerusalem more securely during those times.¹⁰⁹⁸ Paul’s somewhat relaxed itinerary toward the end of his journey to Jerusalem (21:4, 10) probably suggests that he did reach Jerusalem in time for Pentecost as he had planned (20:16).¹⁰⁹⁹
If this suggestion is correct, Paul may be using the duration of his stay to explain why he was in the temple.¹¹⁰⁰ Forensic speeches often included arguments based on a sequence of events in their narratio.¹¹⁰¹ That the festival had obviously coincided with Paul’s visit and arrest would support Paul’s claim that he had come to Jerusalem specifically to celebrate it. Because Luke’s speeches are at most summaries, he may expect his audience to understand that Paul’s opening words included more than 24:10–11. Still, the connection between 24:10–11 even in the speech’s abbreviated form is sufficiently evident, and could make sense this briefly. (One could use conciseness as an appeal to something already known or self-evident. Thus, for example, a later historian reports a speaker claiming that, since his hearers already knew the facts, he did not need to speak at great length.)¹¹⁰²
Luke may also name some of the people who had spent time with Paul in 21:8–18 to indicate that Paul could have provided witnesses of the timing of his journey had he needed them—some even within Caesarea itself (21:8–10, 16). Possibly the “twelve days” excludes the time he had waited for the trial in Caesarea (21:18, 27; 22:30; 23:1–12, 23, 32–33; 24:1)—to abbreviate the duration could be to Paul’s advantage, provided it identified him coming for the festival.
Not Stirring Unrest (24:12)
Against Tertullus’s most dangerous charge (24:5), Paul demonstrates that he was not stirring unrest (24:12). It was common to summarize an opponent’s argument (as Paul does here), then refute it.¹¹⁰³ The sequence in speeches could differ; one could begin a speech by praising oneself, by praising the jury, or by answering the opponent’s accusations.¹¹⁰⁴ At this point Paul begins to refute the charges (24:12). Not only was Paul not stirring a riot, but he was not even carrying on discussions with anyone, as Paul often had in diaspora synagogues (17:2, 17; 18:4, 19; 19:8) and Greek academic settings (19:9), or later with Felix himself (24:25). Such public dialogues would be common in scribal schools and among speakers in public places, so Paul had been genuinely restrained in Jerusalem.¹¹⁰⁵
Unable to Prove Their Charges (24:13)
Like Paul, other defendants regularly demanded proof; the very demand rhetorically presupposed one’s innocence by appearing confident that no such proof could be offered.¹¹⁰⁶ Speakers were quick to attack assertions that lacked proof.¹¹⁰⁷ In so doing, skillful rhetoricians sought to shift the burden of proof from the accused to the accuser, especially if there remained any reasonable doubt.¹¹⁰⁸
If claimants could not prove their claims, a court would dismiss their case.¹¹⁰⁹ Despite flowery rhetoric, failure to provide proof could condemn one’s case. Thus, for example, when Antipater offered no proofs but only oaths of his innocence, Varus ordered him executed.¹¹¹⁰ A hostile speaker could charge that mere appeal to pathos without proof was virtual admission of guilt.¹¹¹¹ Building on this general challenge to their lack of evidence, Paul will later challenge specifically the lack of witnesses (24:19).
Paul’s Blameless Life (24:14–18a)
Paul seeks to redefine the issue in 24:14; Luke’s informed audience will recognize that Paul’s accusers redefined the charges in 24:5–6, but that Paul has sought to shape the question as a religious one since 23:6 (continuing in 24:20–21), a strategy useful before Roman officials that he may have learned from his experience with Gallio (18:14–15). Rome would not likely intervene in an internal Jewish religious dispute¹¹¹² unless political considerations demanded such intervention.
Luke portrays both sides as rhetorically clever, but Paul as more clever. Ancients were, however, sensitive to orators redefining the issues at hand.¹¹¹³ Paul is thus careful to provide proof supporting his claim that his opponents’ real issue with him was theological (24:20–21), as Lysias’s testimony could verify (23:28–29). One could attack the credibility of opposing witnesses, sometimes even by deriding their ethnicity;¹¹¹⁴ Paul by contrast affirms his solidarity with his people and that the dispute is actually an internal religious one.
Arguments From Probability
It was difficult to prove a negative, but one could certainly show that it was improbable and inconsistent with known facts. Aristotle argued that when one lacked witnesses, one could decide a case on the basis of probability.¹¹¹⁵ This form of argument came to be used in a variety of settings, including evaluating historical claims.¹¹¹⁶ More commonly, it appeared in speeches, especially forensic speeches.¹¹¹⁷
What often went unsaid (since critics would not wish to admit any probability for the opposing position) was that some probabilities were more probable than others. When, for instance, Cicero climaxes his proofs by pointing out that his client could not have accomplished a trip of seven hundred miles in two or three days, he has virtually won his case.¹¹¹⁸ Not all arguments from probability were equally strong, however. Thus one could claim that long-term support revealed more about the deceased’s intentions than an old will drawn up in hasty anger would.¹¹¹⁹ Or that a soldier who had not provided a will before other battles would not likely have done so just before this battle in which he unexpectedly died—suggesting that the current will was a forgery.¹¹²⁰ Likewise, how likely was it for one to engage in business dealings with another if he genuinely thought that the other had cheated him?¹¹²¹ These may appear reasonable arguments, but they are not foolproof.
While demands for proof weighed heavily (24:13), those who lacked direct evidence often resorted to arguments from probability.¹¹²² When one could not refute a charge, one sometimes had no alternative but to resort to arguments from probability.¹¹²³ One could also use arguments from probability to supplement other arguments. One form of the argument from probability was an appeal to one’s past character.
Êthos (24:14–17)
Many of Paul’s claims in 24:14–17 (and his implication in 24:11) address êthos, establishing his character against the sorts of charges brought against him. Êthos was vital to a case; if charges seemed inconsistent with a person’s proven character, probability worked against those charges.¹¹²⁴
In this sense, an argument from character is one form of an argument from probability. Thus Scipio allegedly did not stoop so low as to respond to a false charge, but recounted his irreproachable life in a way that silenced his accusers.¹¹²⁵ (Of course, it is doubtful that such an approach by itself would have sufficed in Paul’s day, even if one grants that it possibly worked in Scipio’s.) An advocate could argue that one of noble character would not commit such crimes, hence that a noble defendant was innocent.¹¹²⁶ Paul shows in 24:14–17 that he was a pious supporter of his Jewish heritage; thus desecrating the temple would be utterly out of character for him.¹¹²⁷ (At least by the point that a first-time reader reaches 24:25, Felix recognizes that Paul’s ethical character is superior to his own.)
Admitting a Non-Crime (24:14)
By “admitting” one matter in 24:14, Paul gains more credibility for his denials.¹¹²⁸ But what he admits, though perhaps distasteful to some Romans, was not a crime. This is a clever rhetorical strategy. Speakers commonly admitted something that was not really a crime, gaining credibility without suffering adverse consequences.¹¹²⁹ Thus Josephus admits his guilt according to his accusers’ views, but proceeds to confess what was not a crime.¹¹³⁰ This practice seems to have been part of rhetorical training, though of course anyone could learn the technique.¹¹³¹ One could also admit that the crime of which one was accused might be rightly punishable, then claim one’s innocence with respect to it (as Paul later does in 25:11).¹¹³² Or one could admit that one had committed the “crime,” but point out that one had done it with such good reasons that it was not truly a crime.¹¹³³ Paul’s strategy here is therefore a familiar one.
Paul’s Fidelity to His Jewish Heritage and Faith (24:14–18)
Not only was Paul innocent regarding any charges punishable under Roman law, but also any regarding Jewish law (25:8). At least some rhetorical theorists pointed out that when one’s desires comported with those of one’s audience, they seemed more plausible.¹¹³⁴ Paul’s appeal to values shared with his accusers in 24:15 may not have this effect on them, but will at least narrow the religious differences from the governor’s perspective, which is what will matter for the trial’s outcome (cf. 18:14–15).
Paul’s fidelity to his Jewish heritage makes less plausible the idea that Paul would have had anything to gain by disrupting activity in the temple; in some rhetorical traditions, a defendant should show that the alleged act would not have profited him.¹¹³⁵ Indeed, portraying a defendant accused of stirring a riot instead as a benefactor of the people (24:17) would stir pathos.¹¹³⁶ A person accused of acting against another often could counter the charge by claiming to have acted, by contrast, to benefit the accuser or victim.¹¹³⁷
Paul continues his argument that he is a faithful Jew and that the controversy is an internal Jewish one (a plausible depiction of the conflict between Jewish-Christians and other Jews in this period). What his opponents called a “sect” (in 24:5; cf. 28:22) did not differ on cardinal matters from Jewish views that were common in Judea, even among some of his accusers (24:14–15).¹¹³⁸ It seems unlikely that all his accusers would have actually agreed with this claim (cf. 24:21); certainly the high priest (24:1) would not (23:8). But perhaps the “elders” (24:1) now include a few non-Sadducees, who perhaps recognized a common enemy in Paul some time after the brief hearing in 23:7–10.¹¹³⁹ (It seems no coincidence that Luke uses “sect” also for Sadducees and Pharisees, as Josephus does; cf. 5:17; 15:5; 26:5.)¹¹⁴⁰
Luke’s specific arguments contribute to this general picture of consistency with Paul’s known character in Acts. Paul was “purified” in the temple (21:26; 24:18)—hardly the sort of person who would seek to profane it! (If 21:24 implies that Paul again shaved his head with the Nazirites, as earlier in 18:18, his short hair from the moment of his arrest would help visibly substantiate his claim; cf. Num 6:18–19. But that interpretation of Acts 21:24 is quite debatable.)¹¹⁴¹
Whatever Luke’s reasons for omitting Paul’s collection elsewhere in this narrative, he has good reason to allude to Paul’s financial gifts for the needy here (24:17) as a substantial evidence of his peaceful intentions.¹¹⁴² If this gift were questioned, Paul could appeal to witnesses in Jerusalem (though by omitting other references to Paul’s offering, Luke does not invite explicit testimony here). In contrast to the epistles, Paul here does not specify that the offering was directed toward believers, perhaps because he is emphasizing his solidarity with his people as a whole (24:14–15; cf. also the broader emphasis in Luke 6:32–35).
Paul returns the Charges (24:18b)
Ancient orators, like modern politicians, knew how to “spin” data to their advantage.¹¹⁴³ Good speakers sought not only to establish their own (or their client’s) good character, but also the negative character of their accusers.¹¹⁴⁴ One could thereby challenge the moral right of one’s accusers to even bring charges, hoping to shame them.¹¹⁴⁵ Thus, for example, when Timarchus prepared to prosecute Aeschines, the latter prosecuted him first and successfully discredited him.¹¹⁴⁶ When Cicero refutes a charge from Clodia, he spends most of his speech discrediting her, charging her with immorality and implying her guilt for her former husband’s death.¹¹⁴⁷ (Paul explicitly declines to charge the accepted leaders of his people in Acts 28:19, where he might appear as a Roman citizen complaining about Judea rather than as someone arguing an intra-Jewish dispute.¹¹⁴⁸ Roman Jews had plenty of reasons to be anxious about Roman anti-Semitism, and Paul here sets them at ease.¹¹⁴⁹ Diplomatic necessities sometimes invited a more gentle approach.)¹¹⁵⁰
Whenever possible, one would also return the very charges and show that the accusers, not the accused, were guilty of the offense.¹¹⁵¹ Cicero regards this as a standard technique: a good orator “will transfer to his opponent the blame for the very act with which he is charged.”¹¹⁵² This had long been the practice; in classical Athens, Aeschines repeatedly accused Demosthenes of having taken bribes, returning Demosthenes’s charge against Aeschines.¹¹⁵³ He thus cleverly concludes that Demosthenes has attacked not Aeschines, but himself in Aeschines’s name.¹¹⁵⁴ In the highly politicized enmities of urban elites in the Empire, shaming the accusers could attempt to reduce frivolous lawsuits against the one now shaming them. Thus, for example, Cicero notes that the accusers injured his client, then adds with mock surprise, And my client is the one charged with violence? “Why so? Because he is alive. But that is not his fault.”¹¹⁵⁵
Paul probably is reversing the charge of inciting the mob against his original accusers. Lysias’s testimony in 23:27 seems to confirm the “arrest” but also accuses them of attempted lynching—hence of the sort of mob action that they will now blame on Paul. Although such an arrest would fit well Luke’s frequent parallel between Paul and Jesus (cf. 21:11), Luke himself portrays the action as a mob assault (21:27, 30–31), with little focus on the involvement of the Levite guards (except by implication in the closing of the temple doors in 21:30; contrast the explicit mention in 4:1; 5:26).
Paul seems to contrast his peaceful behavior in the temple (24:17–18) with that of his original accusers (24:18b). Rhetoricians commonly used contrasts to make their point, demonstrating their greater qualifications, or demeaning or exalting others.¹¹⁵⁶ Paul stops short of openly accusing his accusers of causing the riot by not finishing his remarks about them (24:18–19; he also uses the weaker adversative de rather than alla, the stronger one).¹¹⁵⁷
Nevertheless Luke’s informed reader could infer this to be the case from Luke’s own narrative (21:27–31), and could envision Paul as either denouncing them by insinuation or stopping short of the temptation to denounce them. The lack of main verb here, then, could imply that they rather than he stirred the riot.¹¹⁵⁸ Denunciation by insinuation was common enough in courtrooms, often while one claimed that one would not denounce someone for something.¹¹⁵⁹ When attacking Piso, Cicero implies that he came by his offices unethically: “But as to how each of us was elected I prefer to say nothing.”¹¹⁶⁰ Denouncing another person, he complained that he murdered his wife and then added another crime that was too horrible for Cicero to describe publicly, lest its mention weaken public virtue. In such an instance, the horror of a crime worse than murdering one’s wife is left to the hearer’s intrigued imagination.¹¹⁶¹ In another case, he briefly interrupts his denunciations of a particular tribune’s acts by stating that he will not digress to mention all his other shameful deeds in Spain (thereby implying that he had many more examples available).¹¹⁶² (Urban Mediterranean audiences would be familiar with the general technique, not limited to denunciation, of claiming that one would not say something that in the process one in fact said.)¹¹⁶³
Failure of Witnesses to Appear (24:19)
Paul has already mentioned his accusers’ failure to offer compelling evidence (24:13); now he turns more specifically to their lack of witnesses.¹¹⁶⁴ Felix may have assumed that those gathered to accuse Paul (24:9) were his original accusers (23:30, 35; cf. 24:7–8 in many later manuscripts); Paul clarifies any such ambiguity. The failure of Paul’s original accusers to show up (24:19) at the very least undermined their credibility. In a similar sort of argument from probability, one could argue that if an accuser failed to prosecute immediately, he presumably invented the charges.¹¹⁶⁵ (Certainly Paul’s accusers here lost little time in prosecuting this case, however; see 24:1.)
More commonly, as well as more relevantly here, an accuser’s failure to produce witnesses could be used to challenge his veracity.¹¹⁶⁶ (Refusal to hand over slaves for interrogation by torture was understood the same way¹¹⁶⁷—though an orator would argue against this practice when that better suited his case.)¹¹⁶⁸ A speaker might insist on this principle even when the alleged offense was not public and would not have been easily witnessed!¹¹⁶⁹ One might also insist on this principle when any witnesses would have traveled a considerable distance, even though this distance reduced the likelihood of their appearance.¹¹⁷⁰ But especially in alleged crimes like this one where one would expect witnesses, one might ridicule the opposing position by inviting witnesses to come forward (if indeed, one might add spitefully, there genuinely were any!).¹¹⁷¹
Most scholars aver that Paul’s response implies more than merely that his accusers lack eyewitness support for their claims. If Paul is implying that his original accusers have abandoned their case—which they have—he also would be implying that the case should be dismissed. Claudius had already warned that in such cases of destitutio, abandonment of the case, the case would be decided against the accusers; shortly after the period depicted in Luke’s narrative, Rome passed more complete laws to this effect.¹¹⁷²
Yet Paul’s accusers in the story world would have a good reason to avoid showing up, beyond their return to Asia after Pentecost: if cross-examination demonstrated that they rather than Paul started the riot, they would be the ones answering to Roman authorities for starting unrest. And probably most of them, unlike Paul, did not have the legal benefit of being Roman citizens! Further, while people respected honorable witnesses, the witnesses lost their honor if the case went against them and their testimony became tarnished.¹¹⁷³ Indeed, the law treated false witnesses harshly,¹¹⁷⁴ particularly in a capital case.¹¹⁷⁵
The stakes thus would be too high for them to travel to Caesarea and appear before Felix’s tribunal on a charge they could not verify. It would be difficult to make their testimonies agree without careful planning.¹¹⁷⁶ Further, genuine public acts with numerous potential witnesses were next to impossible to disprove.¹¹⁷⁷ Paul presumably could produce witnesses in his favor, especially the Nazirites he had helped (21:26) and probably Trophimus, whom he had allegedly brought into the temple but in fact had not (though his appearance would be more risky; 21:29). Without colluding with the governor, therefore, the accusers could not guarantee safety to false witnesses (such as those noted in 6:11).
Since no witnesses against him have come forward, Paul instead challenges his accusers who are not witnesses to testify against him from his own mouth (24:20)—which will simply reveal the real basis for their enmity (24:21). And personal enmity, though characteristic of Greek and Roman municipal elites, could also be held to bias enemies’ reports about a person.¹¹⁷⁸ Cicero claims that it was standard procedure for prosecutors to provide a credible motive for their charges.¹¹⁷⁹ Only one side in the case establishes credible motives, at least from the vantage point of Luke’s ideal audience. Luke’s summary of Tertullus’s charges (24:5–6) do not specify a motive, but the cumulative charges could possibly imply as a motive Paul’s opposition to temple-centered Judaism. Paul, however, establishes an ethos that would argue against such motives (24:14–18).
In his countercharge, conversely, Paul attributes his opponents’ accusations to a matter of theological disagreement already demonstrated in his hearing before them (23:6–9; 24:20–21)—a motive he may hope will get the case against him thrown out of a Roman court without abandoning him to a Judean one. Luke expects his audience by this point to realize that Paul was hardly the only member of a Jewish sect that disagreed with other Jewish sects (23:7–8)! It was customary to put the motives for one’s accusers in a bad light, and Paul’s portrayal of theirs should suffice for Felix.¹¹⁸⁰
How would accusers lacking witnesses have responded to such charges? Rhetoricians sometimes tried to turn the lack of witnesses to their advantage—difficult as this effort might prove. Demosthenes, for example, builds an argument from inference and claims that his “witnesses” are the facts themselves.¹¹⁸¹ In other cases rhetoricians sought to offer plausible reasons why they had not provided witnesses.¹¹⁸² These attempts at times could sound like special pleading; Cicero once promises not to distract his hearers with witnesses, whose words are easily distorted, but rather to provide arguments from facts.¹¹⁸³ Still, it was not always easy to procure witnesses; even when they did not have to travel far, some were reluctant to testify on particular matters.¹¹⁸⁴
Paul avoids naming the original accusers who failed to show up—though at least in the story world he presumably had met them personally (19:8–9, 33). His indication of “certain persons,” however, could be the language of polemic (24:18).¹¹⁸⁵
His Opponents’ Inconsistency (24:20–21)
In redefining the basis for the charges against him, Paul appeals to the inconsistency between Tertullus’s charges (24:5–6) and the issue that divided the Sanhedrin earlier (23:6–9). In one form of an argument from probability, one could cite one’s opponent’s criticisms against them by showing inherent self-contradictions.¹¹⁸⁶ Lawyers thus found discrepancies on matters of time, places, events, and so forth, as helpful ways to discredit an opposing argument.¹¹⁸⁷
If the elders protested that most of them did not yet understand the basis for charges against Paul at his hearing before them, they would be admitting that they were not qualified witnesses and offered nothing but hearsay.¹¹⁸⁸ They had shifted the charges against him to suit the venue! Sometimes a rhetor saved a clinching argument for the end.¹¹⁸⁹ It is not clear that Paul does so here, but if he does, his final argument certainly appears to be a strong one.
It was common to bluntly call one’s opponent a liar, especially in court settings.¹¹⁹⁰ One could adjust the particular details of that charge creatively, as needed; for example, Cicero complains that the accuser of his client is a liar, but that the lie in this case is so improbable as to invite derisive laughter.¹¹⁹¹ Paul is more charitable, whether for religious or political reasons (cf. again 28:19). Yet he clearly implies that the case has been constructed against him falsely.
Conclusion
Although I have offered only selected comparisons rather than attempting a comprehensive survey of all available rhetorical techniques, I believe those offered are sufficient to establish the skills that ancient readers could recognize in this passage. A comparison of the argumentation in Acts 24:10–21 with some rhetorical techniques of Luke’s day suggests that his Paul is rhetorically skilled. Luke presents him in part as an intellectual hero like the heroes of some later Greco-Roman biographies of sophists and philosophers. Paul appears as a delightfully cunning debater who confounds his adversaries, defends himself against frivolous charges, and in the process further advances the gospel he serves.