7. On this, see also Keener, Acts, 1:173–76, 649–53.
1. This chapter is adapted, with permission, from Craig S. Keener, “Luke-Acts and the Historical Jesus,” pages 600–623 in Jesus Research: New Methodologies and Perceptions. The Second Princeton-Prague Symposium on Jesus Research (ed. James Charlesworth with Brian Rhea and Petr Pokorny; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2014).
2. See especially Hengel, Jesus and Paul, 97–128 (who is more impressed with Luke’s acquaintance with Jerusalem and the Judean coast). Still, Luke’s sources sometimes constrain his Galilean topography (cf., e.g., correct Nazareth topography in Luke 4:29).
3. Even if we were to accept the later tradition (in the anti-Marcionite prologue to Luke) that he was from Syrian Antioch, which I think an improbable inference from Acts 13:1, he probably would have spoken mainly Greek.
4. Although himself supporting a second-century date, Pervo, Dating Acts, 359–63, lists roughly 31 scholars for the 60s; 48 in the 70s–80s; 20 in the 90s; and 11 for c. 100 or any decade thereafter.
5. This likelihood is increased even for the immediate disciples if, as we have every reason to suppose, most of Jesus’s disciples were, like most students of prominent teachers in that era, in their teen years when they followed him (cf., e.g., Josephus Life 10; Pliny Ep. 5.8.8; Stamps, “Children,” 198).
6. See now especially my Christobiography; cf. Keener and Wright, Biographies and Jesus.
7. On this, see also Keener, Acts, 1:173–76, 649–53.
8. Talbert, Gospel; Burridge, Gospels2; Frickenschmidt, Evangelium; see also Shuler, Genre; Aune, Environment.
9. For this statement of consensus, see now Fitzgerald, “Lives,” 211; Smith, “Genre,” 184; Smith, Βίος, 20; Burridge, Gospels2, 253, 271; Black, “Kennedy,” 65; Walton, “Burridge’s Impact”; Walton, “Gospels,” 48, 52–57 (esp. 52–54); Kwon, “Charting,” 59, 65; Goh, “Galba,” 173; Henderson, “Comparison,” 263; Licona, “Viewing,” 323; Bird, Gospel, 239; Adams, Genre, 58.
10. The alternative proposal of novel lacks persuasiveness for several reasons, including that most novels of this period were romances, recounting the adventures of hero and heroine (a far cry from the subject matter of the Gospels); that novels rarely employed historical sources about a historical figure (Xenophon’s Cyropedia and Ps.-Callisthenes’s Alexander romance being the most conspicuous exceptions to the usual rule); none are about a character from within living memory; and to our knowledge none of them employ sources as if true to the extent visible in Matthew and Luke.
11. See Keener, “Assumptions”; Keener, “Otho”; Keener, Christobiography; Licona, Differences; Keener and Wright, Biographies and Jesus.
12. History often focused on major characters (see e.g., Fornara, Nature of History, 34–36, 116, 185); for proposals that Luke-Acts combines elements of multiple genres, see e.g., Barrett, Acts, lxxviii-lxxix; Marshall, “Treatise,” 180; Verheyden, “What,” 47; Penner, Praise, 59.
13. Dibelius, Studies in Acts, 123–37; Cadbury, Acts in History, passim.
14. See e.g., Gilbert, “Propaganda,” 235–36; Penner, “Discourse,” 66–67; Phillips, “Genre.”
15. See Plümacher, “Mission Speeches,” 251–66; as in Plümacher, “Missionsreden”; Plümacher, “Luke as Historian,” 398; Horsley, “Speeches,” 613.
16. Luke 2:1–2; 3:1–2; Acts 18:12; with e.g., Johnson, “Luke-Acts,” 406.
17. See e.g., the arguments in Johnson, “Luke-Acts,” 406.
18. Cf. Palmer, “Monograph (1993),” 3; Parsons, “Unity: Rethinking,” 45–48.
19. See e.g., Goulder, Type; Talbert, Patterns; Tannehill, Luke; Tannehill, Acts.
20. Burridge, Gospels, 246 (citing Diodorus Siculus Bk. 17); Balch, “ΜΕΤΑΒΟΛΗ ΠΟΛΙΤΕΙΩΝ,” 143 (citing Dionysius of Halicarnassus Ant. rom. 4.41–85).
21. See e.g., Pliny Ep. 1.16.4; Rebenich, “Historical Prose”; especially Rothschild, Rhetoric of History.
22. E.g., Appian Hist. rom. 7.8.53; Plutarch Demosth. 3.2; Sert. 1.1; see further Squires, Plan.
23. Cim. 3.1–3.
24. Sert. 1.1. Cicero allowed more freedom than this in oratory (Brut. 11.42), and Pseudo-Plutarch’s Par. St. (Mor. 305A-316B) offers parallels so close that the author must have “bent” some material.
25. See e.g., Comp. Alcib. Cor. 3.1; Comp. Lys. Sul. 5.5. Even when he hyperbolically announces two characters so similar that it is difficult to discern differences (Comp. Arist. Cato 1.1), he goes on to identify differences (5.1, 3–4; 6.1).
26. Cf. e.g., biblical exodus typology (e.g., Daube, Exodus Pattern; Hays, Echoes, 101); patterning in narratives once viewed as doublets (e.g., Satterthwaite, “Acts,” 363).
27. On the interpretive function, see e.g., Cadbury, Making, 185; Plümacher, Geschichte, 109–26; on their composition, see e.g., Dibelius, Studies in Acts, 3, 138–85.
28. Cf. Cadbury, Making, 186–87; Gempf, “Speaking,” 264, 283, 299; also the rewriting of earlier historians’ speech reports in Fornara, Nature of History, 143–68; Hammond, “Speeches.”
29. On modern philosophic foundations of this approach, see e.g., discussion in Benoit, Jesus, 1:39; Kee, Miracle, 3–16; Meier, Marginal Jew, 2:519–20. Western thinkers today often challenge this past consensus (e.g., Swinburne, Miracle; Johnson, Hume; Earman, Failure; Keener, “Case”; Keener, Miracles; Keener, “Miracle Reports: Perspectives”), and nonwestern approaches often differ considerably (see e.g., Sanneh, Whose Religion, 26; Jenkins, Next Christendom, 122–31).
30. Cf. e.g., Thucydides 1.22.4; Polybius 7.7.1; contrast prodigy reports (in many historians, notably Livy) and signs reports (probably Flavian propaganda in Tacitus Hist. 4.81; Suetonius Vesp. 7.2–3). Josephus includes conventional, noncommittal remarks, but he did want his audience to believe his miracle reports (see Betz, “Miracles in Josephus,” 212–13).
31. Plümacher, “Fiktion und Wunder,” compares Luke with “sensationalist” historians; but despite Luke’s interest in signs, he lacks the rhetorical elaboration (and most of the tragic dramatic elements) characterizing most works in this category.
32. The strong consensus of scholarship (as noted in e.g., Brown, Death, 143–44; Blackburn, “Miracles,” 362; Eve, Miracles, 16–17; Welch, “Miracles,” 360; Green, “Healing,” 758; Dunn, Remembered, 670; Hultgren, “Stories,” 134–35; Twelftree, “Message,” 2518–19) is that Jesus’s contemporaries experienced him as a miracle worker (see e.g., Sanders, Jesus and Judaism, 11; Meier, Marginal Jew, 2:617–45, 678–772).
33. Even today, historians reporting about those associated with miracle reports must devote space to such claims (e.g., Warner, Evangelist), although often writing from a neutral academic perspective. MacMullen, Christianizing, 7, 24, notes that historians as historians can report miracle claims (such as those associated with Simon Kimbangu and others) while remaining neutral on causation.
34. See e.g., Mason, Josephus and New Testament, 63; Penner, Praise, 129, 179; at length, Hemer, Acts in History, 79–85.
35. E.g., Polybius’s pro-Roman Tendenz (Polybius 36.9.1–17; Momigliano, Historiography, 71–73); others, like Livy, carry this approach to extremes. Herodotus (2.4, 32, 50, 58, 77, 82; Meister, “Herodotus,” 268) and Thucydides were more neutral than we would expect, but even here cf. Wade-Gery, “Thucydides,” 1519.
36. E.g., Dionysius of Halicarnassus Ant. rom. 1.2.1; 1.6.3–5; Diodorus Siculus 15.1.1; 37.4.1; cf. Polybius 1.1.1; Valerius Maximus 2.pref; Tacitus Agr. 1; Maximus of Tyre Or. 22.5; even Lucian Hist. 59. See further Marguerat, Histoire, 28–29; Fornara, Nature of History, 113–16. In Jewish sources, see e.g., Philo Abr. 4; Josephus Ag. Ap. 2.204; 1 Cor 10:11.
37. E.g., Dionysius of Halicarnassus Ant. rom. 5.56.1; 6.80.1; Polybius 3.31.11–13; cf. Judg 11:16–27; 2 Sam 11:21; 2 Kgs 9:31.
38. E.g., Polybius 1.35.1–10; Diodorus Siculus 31.10.2; Dionysius of Halicarnassus Ant. rom. 7.65.2; Tacitus Ann. 4.33; Dio Cassius 1.5.4; Arrian Alex. 4.10.8; Cornelius Nepos 16 (Pelopidas), 3.1; cf. discussion in Sheeley, Asides, 56–93.
39. See e.g., Dobbeler, “Geschichte”; Reinmuth, “Investitur”; Bergren, “Nehemiah”; Borgen, “Reviewing”; and the numerous essays by Christopher T. Begg and Louis H. Feldman (see this volume’s bibliography) on Josephus’s retelling of biblical narratives.
40. E.g., Polybius 3.4.1; 8.8.3–6; 10.26.9; cf. Pliny Ep. 5.8.1–2.
41. E.g., Dionysius of Halicarnassus Ant. rom. 8.56.1. Historians “integrated” theology with history (Rothschild, Rhetoric of History, 59; cf. also 295).
42. See e.g., Marguerat, Histoire, 36–37; especially Squires, Plan, 15–17 (on Dionysius); 18–20 (on Josephus); and 20–36 (on Luke).
43. E.g., Polybius 8.8.7–9; Josephus Ant. 20.154–56; Lucian Hist. 7–9.
44. Penner, “Discourse,” 72–73; cf. idem, Praise, 179. He is correct to emphasize historians’ bias (Penner, Praise, 77–78, 179, 217), but biased history is not pure fiction. By contrast, Lüdemann, Acts, 22, accuses biblical scholars of diluting the factual demands of ancient historiography because of apologetic motives.
45. Fact and fiction may overlap in the genres (Alexander, “Fiction and Genre,” 385–91), but in the vast majority of cases the genres are distinct; see Keener, Christobiography, 27–327.
46. See correctly Vermes, Jesus and Judaism, 19–20.
47. Josephus’s boubôna reflects (as clearly in Ant. 18.195) the Latin bûbô, bûbônis, a sort of owl. One may well wonder about the frequency of nocturnal woodland creatures in large public theaters during daylight! Because this omen provides a probable connection with Ant. 18.195, it may be Josephus’s addition to provide cohesiveness to his narrative (cf. how Luke, who usually follows Mark’s sequence, departs from it for his inaugural, Nazareth pericope).
48. Rothschild, Rhetoric of History, 69–70; cf. the claim in Dio Cassius 1.1.1–2.
49. E.g., Maximus of Tyre Or. 22.5; 2 Macc 2:24–25; cf. Fornara, Nature of History, 120–34. Lucian emphasizes, however, that good historiography should be truthful more than entertaining (Hist. 9).
50. Sterling, Historiography, 320; also Aune, Environment, 79.
51. Lucian Hist. 9. Some historians like Herodotus wrote more for their audience’s pleasure than others (like Thucydides) did; but while Herodotus was noted for his charm (Dio Chrysostom Or. 18.10), even he used genuine sources, albeit sometimes misinterpreting them (Meister, “Herodotus,” 267–68), and reflects far less Hellenistic prejudice than one might expect (268–69).
52. With e.g., Talbert, Gospel, 17.
53. Dio Cassius 1.1.1–2; Fornara, Nature of History, 120–33; Palmer, “Monograph,” 3, 29; Aune, Environment, 80; Aune, Dictionary of Rhetoric, 285; cf. also Dionysius of Halicarnassus Dem. 47. For biographies, see Burridge, Gospels, 149–51.
54. See e.g., Mosley, “Reporting,” 26; Hemer, Acts in History, 63–70; see further e.g., Dionysius of Halicarnassus Thuc. 8; Josephus Ag. Ap. 1.26; Ant. 20.156–57; cf. Life 336–39. Fornara, Nature of History, 72, 100, 104 emphasizes objectivity (though he may overstate the case). On how history was written, see further Keener, John, 17–25; I explore these topics more fully in my forthcoming Acts commentary.
55. E.g., Diodorus Siculus 21.17.1; Dionysius of Halicarnassus Pomp. 3; Josephus Life 336–39; Arrian Ind. 7.1; Plutarch Mal. Hdt. 3–7, Mor. 855C-856B; Alc. 3.1; Lucian Hist. 24–25.
56. Aristotle Poet. 9.2, 1451b; cf. similarly Lucian Hist. 8, 40. While recognizing the value of myth, Polybius argues that the goal of history is purely truth (Polybius 34.4.1–3, esp. 2).
57. Dionysius of Halicarnassus Ant. rom. 1.1.2–4; 1.4.2; Thuc. 8, 55; Herodian 1.1.1–3. By citing these writers, I do not imply that they always achieved this ideal themselves. Most historians would not have denounced rhetorical distortion as much as did Polybius (2.56.7; 12.7.1).
58. On the praiseworthiness of accuracy in history, see also Pliny Ep. 5.5.3; 5.8.5.
59. Josephus often embellishes biblical sources in the Antiquities (far more freely than Luke’s adaptation of Mark), sometimes even freely composing new speeches. Nevertheless, he usually retains biblical events; some of his embellishments also depend on prior (albeit legendary) tradition; and archaeology often confirms his accuracy on testable details. Luke certainly does not elaborate scenes as rhetoricians suggested (a practice as old as Homer, later called ekphrasis); nor does he write in the “grand” style that the Second Sophistic came to prefer for histories (Fronto Verum Imp. 2.1.14); on Luke’s level, cf. e.g., Aune, Environment, 77.
60. Meister, “Historiography,” 421.
61. E.g., Dionysius of Halicarnassus Thuc. 19; Livy 3.8.10; Pausanias 1.3.3; cf. Thucydides 1.3.2–3.
62. Arrian Alex. 6.28.2.
63. E.g., Diogenes Laertius 1.23: “But according to others”; 6.1.13; 8.2.67–72; Plutarch Lyc. 1.1; Philostratus Vit. soph. 1.21.516; 2.5.576; y. Sot. 9:13, §2.
64. Cf. e.g., Thucydides 1.21.1; Diodorus Siculus 1.6.2; Dionysius of Halicarnassus Ant. rom. 1.12.3; Thuc. 5; Livy 7.6.6; 25.11.20.
65. A short time by ancient historical criteria; cf. Davies, Invitation, 115–16.
66. Cf. Johnson, Acts, 4; Riesner, Early Period, 413. For ancient preference also for eyewitnesses, see e.g., Xenophon Hell. 6.2.31; Lysias Or. 20.22, §160; Seneca Nat. Q. 4.3.1; esp. (for the relevant genres) Xenophon Ages. 3.1; Thucydides 1.22.2–3; Josephus Life 361.
67. See Campbell, “Journeys,” especially 87. Alexander, “Chronology,” excepts only two points where Luke lacked full data. Luke certainly highlights specifically Jewish opposition more than Paul does, but this is a matter of emphasis, not of contradiction (cf. 2 Cor 11:24, 26; 1 Thess 2:14–16; Acts 16:20–21). Ancient biographies often provide evidence complementary to more “primary” documents (see Hillard, Nobbs, and Winter, “Corpus”).
68. See Harnack, Acts, 264–74. Talbert, Mediterranean Milieu, 207–8, notes approvingly the work of both Campbell and Harnack here; I treat the relation of Acts and Paul more extensively in my forthcoming Acts commentary. For Acts and external history, see Hemer, Acts in History, 108–220, especially 108–58.
69. I could have expanded this section considerably with examples, but I am assuming that most users of this book will already have examined a synopsis and will recognize the point. Matthew takes over far more of Mark’s content than Luke does, although he abbreviates it.
70. Whether one lays greater emphasis on his use of a source or his adaptation of it depends on the expectation with which one contrasts him, but I am thinking in terms of ancient historians’ use of sources more generally. Scholars from across the theological spectrum acknowledge that Jewish and Christian sources alike both preserved and adapted earlier tradition; see e.g., Davies, “Aboth,” 156; Sanders, Figure, 193.
71. So Polybius 12.11.7–8; 12.12.1–3. Even Lucian relegates most radically “inventive” historiography to depictions of exotic, distant locations.
72. On Luke’s preface as fitting for historical works, see e.g., Callan, “Preface and Historiography”; Van Unnik, “Once More Prologue”; Johnson, “Luke-Acts,” 406, 407; Penner, Praise, 219–22; Rothschild, Rhetoric of History, 93–94; Flichy, Oeuvre de Luc. By contrast, Loveday Alexander does not believe that the preface by itself must identify Luke-Acts as historiography, though it certainly distinguishes it from genres such as epic (Alexander, Context, 21–42).
73. Plümacher, “Luke as Historian,” 398.
74. See e.g., Rhet. Alex. 29, 1436a.33–39; Polybius 3.1.3—3.5.9 (esp. 3.1.7); 11.1.1–5; Dionysius of Halicarnassus Lys. 24; Thuc. 19; Cicero Or. Brut. 40.137; Quintilian Inst. 4.1.34; Dio Chrysostom Or. 38.8; Aulus Gellius pref. 25.
75. Callan, “Preface and Historiography,” 577. 577–78 compares Herodotus 1.1; Lucian Hist. 7–14, 39–40.
76. Moessner, “Arrangement,” 158 (focusing especially on Dionysius; cf. also 159–63); Rothschild, Rhetoric of History, 67–69; Penner, Praise, 219–21.
77. Alexander, Context, 12–13. The important point is that technical treatises dealt in information, not fiction (cf. Alexander, “Formal Elements,” 23–24). Others find the same characteristics in some historical prefaces (e.g., Aune, “Prooimion”).
78. E.g., Polybius 12.25d.1; cf. further Keener, John, 22–23; Marguerat, Histoire, 30.
79. See e.g., 1 Kgs 14:19, 29; 15:7, 23, 31; Dionysius of Halicarnassus Ant. rom. 1.6.1; Arrian Alex. 6.2.4; Plutarch Alex. 30.7; 31.2–3; 38.4.
80. Writers are often explicit about their sources when they conflict, e.g., Dionysius of Halicarnassus Ant. rom. 1.87.4; 3.35.1–4; Livy 9.44.6; 23.19.17; Appian Hist. rom. 11.9.56; 12.1.1; Plutarch Alex. 31.3; Arrian Alex. 4.9.2–3; Philostratus Vit. soph. 2.4.570.
81. Cf. also some traditional Jewish models (e.g., 1 Esdras blends Chronicles, Ezra, and Nehemiah with some midrash; Sib. Or. 2.56–148 borrows from Ps.-Phoc.; etc.). In a worst-case perspective, plagiarism, while despised, was common (cf. Schmitzer, “Copyright,” 778; Pliny Nat. pref. 21–23). Allusion to works the hearer would recognize (such as Mark among early Christians), however, was not understood as plagiarism, but instead meant to reveal literary sophistication (Seneca Suas. 3.7).
82. Although there are now significant scholarly detractors (see esp. Goodacre, Case against Q), for a defense of the majority position see e.g., Tuckett, Revival.
83. Needless to say, most sources available to the ancient writers no longer remain extant (cf. e.g., Josephus Ant. 20.154).
84. See e.g., Quintilian Inst. 1.1.36; 1.3.1; 2.4.15; Musonius Rufus frg. 51, p. 144.3–7; Plutarch Educ. 13, Mor. 9E; Hermogenes Progymn. 4.On Maxim, 8–10; Diogenes Laertius 6.2.31; Marrou, History, 154, 279; Cribiore, Gymnastics, 49, 138, 144, 167, 191, 194; Morgan, Education, 71; Joyal, McDougall, and Yardley, Education, 167, 170, 198; Keener, Christobiography, 423–26; for some particularly extraordinary feats of memory, see e.g., Seneca Controv. 1. pref. 2, 17–19; Pliny Ep. 2.3.3; less believably, Valerius Maximus 8.7. ext. 16; Pliny Nat. hist. 7.24.88. Similarly, Roman orators memorized their lengthy speeches (Quintilian Inst. 11.2.1–51; cf. Eunapius Lives 502); memoria constituting a critical element in rhetorical preparation (Satterthwaite, “Acts,” 344). Some denigrated the intelligence of those who merely memorized the entire Homeric corpus without understanding it critically (Xenophon Symp. 3.5–6).
85. Theon Progymn. 1.93–171.
86. Cf. Dunn, Perspective, 110–12, 118, 122; Dunn, Tradition, 301; Bauckham, Eyewitnesses, 333–34, 344–45.
87. McIver, Memory, 176–80, here 176, 180; more extensively, McIver and Carroll, “Experiments”; McIver and Carroll, “Characteristics.”
88. See Kloppenborg, “Memory,” 291; Ong, Orality, 22; Rosenberg, “Complexity,” 82; Kirk, “Memory Theory,” 829; Keener, Christobiography, 385–88.
89. Cf. Diogenes Laertius 10.1.12; Diodorus Siculus 10.5.1; Aulus Gellius 7.10.1; Socrates Ep. 20. Some schools reportedly went even further with memory training (e.g., Diodorus Siculus 10.5.1; Iamblichus Vit. Pyth. 29.164–65; 35.256).
90. Josephus Life 8; m. Ab. 6:6; Gerhardsson, Memory, 124–25; Riesner, “Education élémentaire”; for disciples, see t. Yeb. 3:1; Mek. Pisha 1.135–36; Sipre Deut. 48.1.1–4; 48.2.3, 6; Goodman, State, 79.
91. E.g., Lucian Herm. 1 (though this is satire); Iamblichus Vit. Pyth. 31.188 (an extreme example); Sipre Deut. 306.19.3. For ancient memorization techniques, see e.g., Walde, “Mnemonics”; Small, Wax Tablets.
92. E.g., Seneca Ep. Lucil. 108.17, 20, 22; 110.14, 20.
93. An exceptional case, portrayed as an extreme, was a student embarrassed by some of his rhetorical teacher’s style, and thus deleted some passages (Philostratus Vit. soph. 2.29.621); this is not, however, fabrication of new material. (Moreover, both Arrian, on Epictetus, and Quintilian, regarding his students, show that students often preserved even their teacher’s style. Cf. even Xenophon Apol. 1 on Socrates’s style, though Plato seems to have taken more liberties than our sources closer to Luke’s era.) One would expect less disagreement from students who counted a teacher as “lord.”
94. Davies, Invitation, 115–16; Benoit, Jesus, 1:33; at greater length, see Eddy and Boyd, Legend, 235–306, 364–76, 452–53. Dependence in this case on group rather than individual memory (hence net rather than chain transmission) also increases the likelihood of reliability (see e.g., Dunn, Perspective, 43–46); cf. Philostratus Vit. soph. 1.22.524. In memory relevant to the gospel tradition, see Bauckham, Eyewitnesses, 319–57.
95. See e.g., Lucian Herm. 2; Stowers, “Diatribe,” 74; Gempf, “Speaking,” 299. A contrary practice appears as unusual (e.g., Iamblichus Vit. Pyth. 32.226).
96. Kennedy, Classical Rhetoric, 19; Epictetus Diatr. 1. pref.
97. Quintilian Inst. 1. pref. 7–8; cf. Diodorus Siculus 40.8.1.
98. E.g., Seneca Ep. Lucil. 108.6; Arius Didymus Epit. 2.7.11k, p. 80.35—82.5; Diogenes Laertius 6.1.5.
99. Cf. Gerhardsson, Memory, 160–62; Safrai, “Education,” 966.
100. There were undoubtedly reasons that some gentiles viewed Judeans as a “nation of philosophers” (Stern, Authors, 1:8–11, 46–50), and despite some slanders against them, Galileans were apparently no less loyal to the law than Judeans were (cf. Horsley, Galilee, 152–55).
101. See e.g., Lucian Runaways 12, 14; Phil. 11; more fully, Keener, Christobiography, 440.
102. Cf. the recent argument for eyewitness recollection in the Gospels by Bauckham, Eyewitnesses. If some detailed aspects of Bauckham’s thesis cannot be proven, they nevertheless expose the implausibility of (or at least equally unprovable character of) the more radical form of critics’ assumptions.
103. For this meaning of parakoloutheô, see Alexander, Preface, 128–30.
104. See Moessner, “Poetics,” 85–97; Moessner, “Prologues,” 413.
105. See e.g., Thucydides 1.22.2; 5.26; Polybius 12.3.1–2; 12.4c.2–5; 12.4d.1–2; 12.9.2; 12.25e.1, 7; Diodorus Siculus 1.4.1; Appian Hist. rom. pref. 12; further discussion in Fornara, Nature of History, 47; Aune, Environment, 81–82; Meister, “Historiography: Greece,” 421; cf. Herodotus 1.1.
106. On the value of participation in ancient historiography, see e.g., Byrskog, Story, 58–64, 153–57.
107. See e.g., Dibelius, Studies in Acts, 136; Fitzmyer, Theologian, 11–16; Kurz, Reading Luke-Acts, 112–13.
108. With e.g., Hengel and Schwemer, Damascus, 7; Neil, Acts, 22–23.
109. See Moessner, Historian, 106–7, 328.
110. While Luke’s and Paul’s theological perspectives differ, the differences have too often been overstated, especially in Vielhauer, “Paulinism”; see critiques in Borgen, “Paul to Luke”; Donfried, Thessalonica, 90–96; Porter, Paul in Acts, 189–206.
111. Many also argue that the style is not distinguishable from the bulk of Luke’s work (e.g., Dibelius, Studies in Acts, 104, 136).
112. Robbins, “We-Passages and Sea Voyages”; Robbins, “Land and Sea.” But note the more nuanced response to criticisms in Robbins, Beyond, 83–84.
113. See Fitzmyer, Theologian, 16–22; Hemer, “First Person Narrative”; and esp. Praeder, “First Person Narration” (even challenging Robbins’s specific parallel claims in 210–14).
114. Most pseudepigraphic works selected narrators centuries before their own time (e.g., Plutarch Dinn. 1, Mor.146BC; 4Q537; 1 Enoch; 4 Ezra; 2 Baruch; etc.).
115. For the prefaces (which include first-person usage) prefiguring the “we” narratives, see Cadbury, “‘We’ in Luke-Acts”; Dupont, Sources, 167.
116. E.g., Petronius Sat.; Lucian Luc.; Phal.; Apuleius Metam.; Merkle, “True Story,” 183–84.
117. Fusillo, “Novel,” 840.
118. Also in biography (e.g., Philostratus Vit. soph. 2.21.602–4); see discussion of historians’ first- and third-person narration in Keener, John, 918.
119. Nock, Essays, 828; see also Porter, Paul in Acts, 24–27.
120. E.g., Cadbury, “‘We’ in Luke-Acts”; Dibelius, Studies in Acts, 135–37; Dupont, Sources, 164–65; Packer, Acts, 3; Munck, Acts, xliii; Hanson, Acts, 21–24; Neil, Acts, 22–23; Dunn, Acts, x; Spencer, Acts, 12–13; Fitzmyer, Acts, 103.
121. Cf. Maddox, Purpose, 21, 186; asphaleia is the climactic, final word of Luke’s preface.
122. Against this wrongheaded approach, see especially Bauckham, Gospels for Christians. In the first century many churches knew of distant churches’ experiences (Rom 1:8; 1 Cor 11:16; 14:33; 1 Thess 1:7–9), and even shared letters (Col 4:16); missionaries could speak of some churches to others (Rom 15:26; 2 Cor 8:1–5; 9:2–4; Phil 4:16; 1 Thess 2:14–16).
123. For Luke’s sometimes ambiguous picture of the Pharisees, cf. Gowler, Host. Noting such points is not meant to doubt that Matthew is more pervasively Jewish or to challenge the Israelite history approach to Matthew suggested by, e.g., Luz, Matthew, 44–45.
124. Davies thus observes that these materials are too recent to be judged by the standards of traditions with multigenerational transmission histories (Davies, Invitation, 115–16; cf. similarly Sanders, Tendencies, 28; Keener, Matthew, 16–36, esp. 24–32; Keener, John, 29–34, 40–47). Challenging some traditional form-critical criteria, see e.g., Sanders, Tendencies; Porter, Criteria.
125. See our discussion (regarding both Jewish and gentile schools) above, and compare reports about school settings in e.g., Seneca Controv.; Philostratus Vit. soph.; Diogenes Laertius’s Lives of Philosophers; and later in Eunapius.
126. Again, novels provide useful literary comparisons, but this does not mean that they supply the genre for our first-century Gospels, since historians, biographers, and other writers employed the same narrative techniques.
127. I think here especially of Mack, Lost Gospel.
128. Cf. further Davies and Allison, Matthew, 3:700; Bauckham, “Gospels,” 33–44; Thompson, “Internet.”
129. Euripides El. 361–62; Demosthenes Ep. 5.1; Cicero Att. 2.11; Seneca Ep. Lucil. 47.1; P. Oxy. 32; Apuleius Metam. 1.26.
130. Whenever one learned of someone traveling near a place where one had friends, one might prepare and send a letter (e.g., Cicero Att. 1.10, 13; 4.1; 8.14). This method could be quick; a letter from Caesar in Britain reached Cicero in less than a month (Cicero Quint. fratr. 3.1.8.25). Despite modern postal service, those of us traveling in many parts of Africa (where my wife is from) sometimes still carry mail for acquaintances.
131. Churches even shared letters (Col 4:16). Urban Christians traveled (1 Cor 16:10, 12, 17; Phil 2:30; 4:18), carried letters (Rom 16:1–2; Phil 2:25); relocated to other places (Rom 16:3, 5; perhaps 16:6–15); or sent greetings to other churches (Rom 16:21–23; 1 Cor 16:19; Phil 4:22; Col 4:10–15).