Matthew and Greco-Roman Rhetoric
Matthew and Greco-Roman Rhetoric
In the nearly a decade since this Matthew commentary was released, much has transpired in Matthean scholarship. Since I am offering merely a brief addendum rather than a new edition that would alter pagination, I will not attempt to include such new material here, which is available in more recent works on Matthew, for example, the magisterial work of R. T. France, The Gospel of Matthew (NICNT; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2007). This addendum is not, then, the place to look for additional secondary sources on Matthean scholarship.
Also, because the new notes I have taken on sources relevant for Matthean interpretation now run to 1378 pages of material, I cannot hope to summarize them in a concise addendum (my initial attempt to do so was projecting an “addendum” of perhaps 200 to 250 pages, inappropriate for a commentary this size, for reasons of expense as well as symmetry). Because the series is socio-rhetorical, however, it was felt that I should at least provide more rhetorical observations from Greco-Roman sources. I have been happy to add these, as the focus of this addendum. Again, however, I wish to emphasize that I believe them less relevant for Matthew than for many other areas of NT interpretation, and warn the reader not to use the addendum in isolation from the commentary proper (which focuses more on particularly Jewish context, though not to the exclusion of its broader Mediterranean milieu). Matthew’s “speeches” reflect a more Palestinian Jewish sage “rhetoric,” and Matthew’s own editing reflects also popular biographic techniques with somewhat limited analogies to the rhetoric of elite speeches.
This new addendum, then, is meant to supplement specifically the rhetorical aspect of the commentary, especially with Greco-Roman works comparable to most of the rest of this series.1 Many of these observations reflect further documentation or ideas I have discovered while doing research for my commentaries (especially on two other early Christian narrative works, John and Acts). Because most of my personal notes involve features of Matthew’s social world that are not specifically rhetorical, I can keep the addendum fairly concise by limiting it mostly (with a few exceptions) to specifically rhetorical matters of some sort.
Please note that I will rarely repeat here rhetorical/literary observations based on ancient rhetoricians, biographers, and historians already cited in the commentary proper. With a few exceptions, I provide here only rhetorical observations (predominantly from Gentile sources), though it is often difficult to draw the line between strictly rhetorical observations and more general social observations involving speech and perception. This focus is meant to honor the designated purpose of the addendum without swelling the size of the book. One could make additional rhetorical observations (e.g., how rhetoricians would have titled various kinds of arguments), but I have sought to remain concise in the following sample.
I will leave almost entirely aside addenda to the introduction, since most of these are treated in my more recent book for Eerdmans on the “historical Jesus” of the Gospels (due for release in 2009 or 2010), which includes discussion of the role of rhetoric in constructing narrative works. I also covered some of that material (such as supplementing discussion of the ancient biographic genre and historical method) in the introductions to my commentaries on John and Acts, and will not take space to repeat them here.
The exception (in this paragraph) will be some observations specific to Matthew that have received little or no mention in my earlier work. Many of these simply reinforce what was already noted in the commentary. For example, ancient biographies did not need to follow the subject chronologically; they could follow it topically,2 as Matthew often does. Regarding the common guess of Matthew’s Syrian provenance (which I continue to support for lack of what seems a more plausible alternative), first-century Syria was oriented west rather than east, toward Rome more than Parthia.3 This tension could help explain Matthew’s Greco-Roman form (biography) alongside its inclusion of a preponderance of traditional elements reflecting Jesus as a Middle Eastern sage. Matthew often abbreviates Markan material; ancient audiences with rhetorical preferences for conciseness might appreciate this practice.4 The proposed use of testimonia might reflect the wider ancient use of excerpting material.5
When a work’s title survived, it often appeared in the opening line or lines,6 although this seems likelier for Mark 1:1 than for Matthew 1:1. Relevant to Matt 1:1-17, both in literature and speeches, prologues or introductions usually introduced necessary background or major themes.7 Rhetorically sensitive speakers and writers also sought to use these introductory sections to establish rapport or goodwill.8
After an introduction, speeches of praise could ideally address a person’s genealogy (cf. 1:2-16).9 Respectable ancestry was praiseworthy; hence it could be used in introducing a person’s life.10 Birth was often the first subject in an encomium, though one would elaborate on only the most important points.11 (In contrast to Matthew’s bare genealogy, speeches would normally pause to comment briefly on illustrious ancestors.12 Matthew’s ideal audience, however, already knows well the biblical figures in the genealogy.)
That Matthew undoubtedly skips some later generations (contrast the additional length in Lk 3:23-27) is not surprising;13 it was better rhetorical strategy to focus on the illustrious ancestors and to skip those who were not so well known.14 The inclusion of some negatively viewed ancestors would not hurt the point.15 Matthew uses the descending form of genealogy dominant in Hebrew Scripture, as opposed to the ascending form dominant in hellenistic sources (and found in Lk 3:23-38).16 Families with important backgrounds could preserve their genealogies for many generations back.17 Rather than inventing fictitious ancestors,18 a speaker normally would use the genealogy only if it could be used in the protagonist’s favor;19 otherwise, one would insist that the person’s own virtue was what was praiseworthy.20
In the rhetoric of honorable descent, Joseph as Mary’s husband (rather than as Jesus’ biological father) would confer the assigned heritage adequately (1:18-25).21 Adoption established one in the royal line, and adoptive sons of rulers would be called their “sons”;22 thus, for example, Germanicus calls the emperor Tiberius his “father.”23 Likewise, Nerva is Trajan’s “father,” though the former adopted the latter at most four months before the former’s death.24
Praising the virtue of Joseph and Mary fits ancient rhetorical emphasis on praiseworthy ancestry,25 just as questions about paternity constituted severe insults.26 “Upbringing” was a conventional element in praising a person’s background.27 “Joseph” was a common Palestinian Jewish name “at all social levels,”28 obviating any implied literary connection between the Joseph of 1:16-25 and Joseph of Arimathea (27:57-59). Nevertheless, one could play on others’ names,29 including linking one to a positive namesake in an encomium,30 so a proposal of some sort of play here on Genesis’s “Joseph son of Jacob” (cf. 1:2, 15-16) need not be implausible.
Although this need not inform Matthew 1–2, some would compare rapid growth of infancy legends, as seen in the case of Augustus.31 Epideictic speakers and writers did not ordinarily need to appeal to legends; they could appeal to dreams or other kinds of unusual signs at one’s birth,32 but these, too, were sometimes manufactured for political purposes.33 That Matthew has in view the context of Is 7:14 (as we suggest in the commentary) is rendered still likelier by his reference to that context in Matt 4:14-16.
In the commentary on 2:1-12, we note rhetorical synkrisis, or comparison, of the new characters (the Magi, Herod, and Herod’s advisors). Although evident even in many OT narratives, rhetoricians made deliberate and considered use of this technique.34 Some writers like Plutarch even developed this technique for entire biographies (e.g., Plutarch’s Comparison of Lucullus and Cimon).
Rhetoricians recommended praising a subject’s birth (cf. 2:1-12).35 (Nevertheless, biographies did not have to include information about the subject’s birth,36 hence Mark’s omission; indeed, in a much later era even a biographer writing within two decades of the biographee’s death could omit such information.)37 Although Matthew’s move from genealogy to parentage to birth makes logical and chronological sense, a rhetorical perspective would have also welcomed it as appropriate; after praising a king’s country and family, a rhetorician would turn to praising his birth.38
Ancient speakers and writers could adapt quotations from their classical sources for new contexts;39 nevertheless, as we argued in the commentary, Matthew seems to evoke the original context for his biblically literate ideal audience in texts like Matt 2:15, 18: the context of Hos 11:1 involves a new exodus, and the context of Jer 31:15 involves both Israel as God’s “son” (Jer 31:20) and a new covenant (31:31-34).40 Matthew’s use of Jer 31:15, modeling pathos, would have suited rhetorical expectations; Dionysius of Halicarnassus criticizes Thucydides for sometimes failing to evoke the appropriate horror at the sufferings of war.41 Regarding Matt 2:23, some other ancient writers combined or conflated passages42 (though in 3:3 Matthew removes the combination of Mk 1:2-3).43
Regarding 3:1-12, rhetoricians would view John’s denunciation of elite Judeans in 3:7 as displaying parrhēsia, frankness, a widely appreciated virtue;44 some observers warned, however, that insulting frankness could generate unnecessary hostility.45 Nevertheless, ancient writers admired such truthful boldness in contrast to flattery.46 Insults were conventional in public oratory; for example, Cicero calls Antony the most stupid of people.47 Hearers who were not targets of one’s witty mockery might well laugh at it, but it carried risks, as Cicero learned.48 The particular insult that John chooses would have been widely intelligible, and both here and elsewhere particularly fits Matthew’s charge that Pharisees actually dishonor the patriarchs and prophets (cf. 23:31, 33).49 Other images in the context, such as stones turned to people, would also have been widely intelligible, though Gentiles would have missed the original covenant nuances of the image.50
In Matt 4:1-11, we note the conventional Jewish expression, “It is written” (e.g., 4:4).51 The context of Deut 8:3 (in Matt 4:4) is God’s faithful provision for his son (Deut 8:5) Israel during their testing in the wilderness (8:2); Jesus’ other quotations (from Deut 6:13, 16) are from the same context. Answering one citation (Matt 4:6) with another (4:7) would make sense in Greek as well as Jewish debate.52 Settling in a famous city (cf. Capernaum in 4:13, though only by local comparison with Nazareth) provided exposure (Plutarch Demosth. 2.1). Those of rhetoricians’ elite status would normally view most fishermen and fish sellers as poor (cf. 4:18-22).53 Those who did advanced studies at the tertiary level, often starting around age 16, might spend six months to a couple years in such studies.54 Some rhetoricians mocked the philosophers (noted in the commentary) who demanded everything.55 On word spreading quickly, as in 4:23-25, we may compare many ancient portrayals in various genres regarding the rapid spread of rumor.56 In light of ancient rhetoric, people would understand expressions like “all those in Syria” as hyperbolic.57
Regarding Matt 5–7, for modern readers unaccustomed to thinking of orators addressing multitudes without a sound system, ancient literature is replete with such claims. These occur not only in designed amphitheaters but also on open fields before battles.58 Jesus’ speech in this sermon, designed to communicate instruction rather than to argue his point, might also be heard more as that of a lawgiver than a philosopher.59 We noted in the commentary that some have proposed rhetorical outlines for this composite speech.60 But whereas it is reasonable to view 5:17 or 5:17-20 as articulating a thesis developed in 5:21-48, and 6:1 as a thesis developed in 6:2-18, a full, consistent rhetorical outline seems too much to ask.61 One wonders whether even Diaspora Gentiles would have required a Galilean sage to speak like a Greek or Roman orator (who did not invariably follow conventional rhetorical outlines anyway). I believe that Matthew’s contemporaries would have recognized, no less than we do, that Matthew offers collections of material rather than genuinely discrete speeches.
Epideictic rhetoric could praise people for being “blessed” (makarizein; 5:3-12).62 The commentary already treats the beatitude form; more generally, rhetoricians defined the repetition of a starting word or phrase as anaphora or epanaphora.63 The commentary also notes the inclusio in 5:3, 10, a frequent rhetorical device.64 For some philosophers, ill repute (5:11-12) was honorable,65 or at least not dishonorable.66 The commentary’s note about the rabbinic saying regarding the afterbirth of a mule fits a broader ancient pattern of ridiculing nonsense: thus the silliness of two philosophers could be depicted as follows: “one of these fellows is milking a he-goat and the other is holding a sieve for him.”67
Regarding law codes, some Gentiles could regard changing the laws as criminal, but updating them to fit subsequent usage as appropriate (5:17-48).68 They also debated how to reconcile or choose among laws that conflicted in some kinds of situations (cf. 5:31-32).69 The law’s intention was important,70 and debates about this (against its mere wording) could be important in forensic rhetoric.71 Gentiles would also understand Jesus’ warning against removing even the tiniest part of the law (5:18),72 though Jesus’ illustration is specifically Jewish.73 The repetition of “shall be called in the kingdom of heaven” in two clauses of 5:19 would be viewed as antistrophe, or epiphora;74 while Matthew might not have used such a label, repetition was rhetorically effective in his milieu as well. Although Jesus’ rhetoric in 5:19 has its closest parallels with Jewish sages, Stoics also averred that all sins were “equal.”75
Early Jewish rhetoric often includes phrases similar to, “You have heard it said,” often, “what was said” or “as it is said” (cf. 5:21, 27, 31, 33, 38, 43).76 Appeal to the “ancients” (5:21, 33) was often rhetorically persuasive.77 In some legal systems, known libel or insults (cf. 5:22) could be prosecuted;78 more often in practice, they simply invited responses.79 Hyperbole (as in 5:28-30, 32) was, as we noted in the commentary, a common form of rhetoric.80 Examples of ancient oaths (5:33-37), including in rhetoric, are too abundant to enumerate here.81
Much of Jesus’ rhetoric would have appealed also to Gentile audiences familiar with stories of philosophers. Some philosophers valued the ideal of nonresistance (5:39);82 on responses to ill repute, see also comment on 5:11-12 above. This nonresistance could include not caring about being stripped of their clothes.83 The poor were already accustomed to the wealthy oppressing them in law courts.84 In urban Mediterranean settings, enmity (5:43) generated considerable forensic rhetoric, often involving political factions.85 With the sort of saying about how even Gentiles behave (5:47), we may compare other ancient condemnations of behavior that fell short of that of foreigners.86
As Matt 6:1 offers a thesis illustrated by three examples (6:2-18), ancient rhetoricians often liked having three examples to support a rhetorical thesis.87 Skilled rhetoricians complained, however, about those who always managed to fit everything into three points88 (a pattern happily not pervasive in Matthew). Not letting one’s hand know what one was doing (6:3) reflects a Semitic figure of speech (whatever one’s hand finds to do),89 but the image would also be intelligible to Gentiles concerning keeping secrets.90
The threefold repetition of sou, “your,” at the end of successive clauses in 6:9-10 is antistrophe, or epiphora;91 as such it emphasizes God (i.e., seeking God’s kingdom before one’s needs, 6:33). Rhetoricians would have considered the appellation “evil one” for the devil (6:13) to be antonomasia, use of a “descriptive epithet.”92 Rhetoricians also could have appreciated Jesus personifying “mammon” (6:24) and “tomorrow” (6:34).93 Describing a unit of time by a unit of measure (6:27) is catachresis, “the inexact use of a like and kindred word in place of the precise and proper one.”94 The extended wisdom genre that included thoughts about nature (6:28) appears in 1 Kgs 4:33 (cf. e.g., Prov 6:6), but also more widely.95 Not worrying about the future is widespread wisdom.96
Rhetoricians would appreciate Jesus’ rhetorical questions in 7:3-4.97 For humorous mockery (as in 7:3), see comment on 3:7. Summary statements such as we find in 7:28 and after each of Matthew’s five main discourses resemble models in both the OT and broader Mediterranean society.98 In addition to other (probably more relevant) observations we provided about the messianic secret (8:4), some believed that divine matters were not to be publicly divulged.99 Rhetoricians and other members of the elite do express concern for the deaths or illnesses of favorite slaves,100 though typically not as deeply as in 8:5-6 (and a centurion would not actually belong to the elite per se). Centurions normally obeyed unquestioningly (8:9); to do otherwise invited reprimands.101 The form of command authorities would give could resemble the example in 8:9, though one might specify to whom the command was directed.102
Speaking of being driven into exile or homelessness (cf. 8:20) could generate pathos,103 and rhetoricians could apply the image to “exiled” virtues such as truth.104 Failure to bury parents was an actionable offense in some cultures,105 and invited disdain everywhere.106 Teachers who got youths to obey them more than their parents often provoked hostility,107 and Jesus’ radical views on family (probably often hyperbolic; see comment on 5:28-32, above) later were used against Christianity (see Apocrit. 2.7-12).
The rhetorical situation envisioned in 9:11 is unclear; at banquets people might engage in friendly banter and questions,108 but the situation here seems more hostile. Comparisons with physicians (9:12) were common (among rhetoricians and others): those compared with them included rulers;109 sometimes orators110 or historians;111 and most often, sages or moralists who helped the soul.112
Lists constituted a common rhetorical form (cf. the vice list in 15:19), including lists of names, as in 10:2. With Homer’s catalogue of ships as a model (Il. 2.484-877), catalogues of names (e.g., deities and human genealogies) flourished as a literary form.113 In subsequent centuries readers could note such lists (Philost. Hrk. 6.3; 7.2), expanding them with other traditions and imagination (Philost. Hrk. 6.3; cf. later Christian hagiographic elaboration on early apostolic lists). Lists of disciples (e.g., Iambl. V.P. 23.104) sometimes included only the most prominent (Iambl. V.P. 35.251),114 such as the Twelve in the Gospels. Matthew’s “James, [son] of Zebedee” (10:2) is a readily comprehensible Greek construction.115 Judas Iscariot, “the one who betrayed him” (10:4), may function as epitheton or antonomasia.116
If the speech in 10:5-42 has a formal deliberative proposition of some sort, it might be 10:7, but despite Matthew’s expansion of the speech with material from other contexts, he does not seem to have conformed it to usual Greek or Roman rhetorical conventions.117 Regarding 10:9-10, rhetoricians often targeted sages they thought were greedy (as philosophers had denounced sophists). Speakers often mentioned the simple garb of philosophers,118 especially Cynics,119 but the mere garb of philosophers (as opposed to their character) could also be employed in charging them with hypocrisy.120 Although the urgent, prophetic simplicity of the disciples here is hardly Cynic,121 it would be intelligible to any hearers sensitive to rhetorical critiques of that particularly northern Mediterranean urban phenomenon. Those who gave freely (10:8) would in any case evade the stereotype of the greedy preacher.122 The developing repetition of elements in 10:21 makes good rhetorical sense.123 The implicitly hortatory future rhetoric in 10:22 fits the Jewish martyr tradition.124 That harm to the body could spare the soul (10:28) also developed in the philosophic tradition and was sometimes employed by philosophically minded orators.125
In 10:36, Jesus repeats in different words the basic thought of 10:35; rhetoricians called this sort of repetition epimone.126 The threefold repetition of “is not worthy of me” in 10:37-38 is antistrophe;127 that the first two elements also include “whoever loves … more” reflects also basic anaphora (Cicero Orator 39.135). The ironic reversal of expectations in 10:39 would be classified as antimetabole.128 The repetition of “whoever receives” in 10:40-41 reflects anaphora.129 Recommendations often identified the one sent with the sender.130
A rhetorician might construe the rhetorical question in 11:16 as aporia, feigned helplessness,131 but the phrase, “to what shall we compare?” was simply a common way to introduce parables.132 Rhetoricians also noted the use of simile, which appears in Jesus’ response.133 For the form of oracles against cities and nations, see commentary on 11:20-24. A hyperbolic, figurative ascent to heaven (11:23) appears widely in ancient sources.134
The behavior of students was held to reflect on teachers’ character (as in 12:2).135 One could respond to charges not simply by denying them but by seeking to explain the reason for which one committed the act (cf. 12:3-8).136 “Have you not read?” (12:3) makes sense as Jewish rhetoric, as we noted, but is intelligible enough elsewhere.137 Witty repartee was a valued skill,138 but could incur the enmity of the interlocutor at whose expense the wit succeeded.139 Articulating one’s response in the form of questions may have toned down the level of hostility to some degree, but various forms of rhetorical questions were customarily employed in advancing one’s case.140 Many ancient audiences would value suspending laws temporarily for the sake of the laws’ intention.141 Jesus’ “How can … ?” arguments in 12:26, 29, reflect a familiar argumentation form.142 Showing that, if the accused is guilty, the accusers share guilt on the same grounds (12:27) was or came to be a conventional rhetorical approach.143 The treatment of non-enemies as friends (12:30) was generally viewed as commendable.144 Appealing to opponents’ own words for their conviction (12:37) was good forensic rhetoric.145 In 12:43-45, Jesus essentially returns with interest his opponents’ demonization charge. Returning charges was conventional in forensic rhetoric.146
The commentary on Matt 13 treats ancient Greek fables and especially Jewish parables.147 Here I simply mention the more general use of riddles,148 illustrations, and metaphor149 in rhetoric. Nevertheless, outsiders unfamiliar with Jewish parables might criticize Jesus’ parables for their obscurity.150 Even riddles could be clarified with interpretations, however.151 Shocking language (e.g., 13:9, 13-16) could be used to grip attention.152 Given their dependence on agriculture, ancients not surprisingly often used “seed” figuratively or as illustrations (cf. 13:3, 19);153 other images in these parables (e.g., 13:38) are also familiar, including in figurative usage.154 Some listened to philosophers only for nice-sounding words rather than for true change (cf. 13:19; Mk 6:20).155
Ancient auditors might surmise (at 14:6) that Antipas allowed birthday speeches in his honor, according to the custom,156 but nothing in the text specifically points to the practice. A narrative’s mention of a severed head at a banquet (14:11) could stir pathos (or indignation).157 An honorable teacher might ignore the insults of one whose dignity he did not respect, while the teacher’s students might take great offense (15:12-13).158 “Blindness” (15:14) was a frequent rhetorical metaphor (as well as prevailing in other forms of literature, both Jewish and Gentile).159 Although Cynics welcomed the title,160 most people used the title or image of a dog insultingly when applying it to people (15:26-27).161
Vice lists (15:19) are common in both Jewish162 and Gentile sources. Among the latter, they are common among Stoics163 and other philosophers,164 but they were also common (for different reasons) among rhetoricians.165 These lists can be brief, containing merely several elements, or can contain over a hundred (such as the particularly extensive one in Philo Sacr. 32).
The play on Peter’s name in 16:18 (“rock”) is paronomasia, frequently used by rhetoricians, among others.166 In contrast to 16:21-23 (but cf. 17:13), disciples sometimes understood and took up their sages’ figurative challenges regarding the future’s hardships.167 Rhetoricians could employ the sort of rhetorical questions found in 17:25; 18:12; 19:4; and 21:16, 42.168 The image of children as dependents on the Father in 18:1-4 (evoking the same idea as in 7:7-11) would not normally appeal to those of rhetoricians’ elite status.169 Others also commented on the appropriate nature of reproof (18:15).170
Not only Jewish teachers (as in 19:3-4, 7) but also Gentiles cited laws against each other, often for the purpose of qualifying their application;171 each side in a case would attempt to argue the legislators’ intention to their advantage (19:6-9).172 For hyperbole (cf. 19:9, 24), see comment on 5:28-32; for metaphor (19:12), see comment on ch. 13; others also employed figures of speech analogous to a camel through a needle’s eye (19:24).173 For the inclusio of 19:30 with 20:16, see comment on 5:3, 10.
Others could offer open-ended requests as in 20:20,174 and women could get away with making requests that men could not.175 The wording, “not to be served but to serve,” is a sort of play on wording similar to (though perhaps not precisely the same as) the kinds of wordplays that rhetoricians called antimetabole.176 The question, “What do you want me to do for you?” (20:21, 32), seems a natural one when a suppliant is present.177
Scholars have offered insights how a reader using rhetorical analysis could approach chs. 21–23.178 Perhaps relevant to the triumphal entry, a new governor should be not only hailed but greeted with speeches on his arrival (cf. 21:9-11).179 Shouts could include acclamations (21:9).180 Most people held that curses (21:19) could be efficacious.181 At urban festivals, many people would be speaking, competing with one another and the din of the crowds.182 Challenge-riposte exchanges such as we have in the Gospels (e.g., 21:23-46) fit agonistic urban Mediterranean culture.183 Naturally, therefore, insults were common in ancient rhetoric.184 Although people widely prized the skill of witty repartee (e.g., 21:24-27; 22:29-32),185 shaming one’s accusers could secure their enmity.186 Rhetoricians could employ the mock demand, “tell me!” (21:24).187 Jesus’ opponents recognize that the demand in 21:25 offers a logical trap, just as they will offer a trap to him in 22:17.188 Circumventing answering a pointed question, when necessary, could be counted rhetorically praiseworthy.189 Jesus’ questions with obvious answers, as in 21:31, would drive home the point.190
For background on parables relevant to 22:1-14, see comment on ch. 13. If we may consider the exchanges within the parable (including invitations and implicit refusals) relevant to our discussion in some sense, we may observe that a wedding banquet (22:1) was a huge undertaking, even for an ordinary wedding.191 Attendance was a social obligation,192 and not to promise to come could hurt feelings.193 Nevertheless, to accept a banquet invitation and not show up (22:3) was rude when invited even by merely a social peer,194 and worse than rude for a banquet by a king. The invited guests prove worse than rude by any standards, however (22:6); even sending messengers back to a king with a contemptuous answer could provoke a war.195 Later in the chapter, the inability of opponents to answer (22:46) signals rhetorical victory.196
Polemic, as in Matt 23, was common in forensic speeches, which often sought to deconstruct and discredit the opponent’s position.197 Even mockery was common;198 see comment on 3:7. Even Roman senators, disregarding public decorum, might sometimes abuse one another during meetings of the Senate (although this may have been exceptional practice).199 Failing to rise to greet people of particular social station could be deeply offensive (cf. 23:7),200 though one might not expect one of much higher status to return a greeting.201 Not to return greetings could be seen as provoking enmity.202
Rhetoricians could appreciate as rhetorical antithesis203 the contrast between the one exalting oneself being humbled and the one humbling oneself being exalted (23:12),204 though the basic idea appears in Jewish sources before significant influence from Greco-Roman rhetorical forms.205 Forensic orators could seek to weigh the relative importance of competing laws (23:23).206 Gnats were proverbially small,207 and the sort of hyperbole that appears in 23:24 would not be lost on Greco-Roman audiences.208 Appeal to the behavior of ancestors to explain or influence the behavior of descendants (23:31) was common,209 and irony (23:32) was very common,210 including, as here, in ironic invitations to act.211
Prodigies and omens212 characterized both pagan concerns for the future and Jewish apocalyptic speculations, and may inform some of Jesus’ warnings in 24:6-8.213 “Rumors” of war were common;214 the variation in form here resembles polyptoton.215 Repetition of “nation” and “kingdom” is epanalepsis (24:7).216 Although Jesus is restrained in his description of the suffering, even mild descriptions like 24:19 invite pathos.217 “Let the reader understand” (24:15) is a parenthetical digression;218 a reader was often the one who would read the material publicly to other hearers,219 whether or not that is the only sense here. “Never before” (24:21) was suitable evocative hyperbole, sometimes found in historians and speeches.220 The repetition of “not pass away” in 24:35 is antistrophe.221 The summons to alertness (24:42) reflects the eschatological perspective of the gospel tradition, but from a rhetorical framework it fits the rhetorical practice of comminatio, urging an audience to be on their guard.222
The wedding song could invite the bride to leave her home, coming forth bravely to meet her groom.223 Because weddings happened at night,224 nuptial torches at weddings (25:1) were a standard image.225 One (specifically rhetorical) element of a wedding banquet once the doors were shut would be wedding speeches,226 although this knowledge is at most taken for granted in the audience’s imagination and is not relevant to the action of the story. The excluded virgins’ “Lord, Lord” (25:11) is emphatic epanalepsis.227 Notwithstanding such minor observations, however, the predominant rhetoric of all the eschatological parables (24:45–25:46) is what we find in Jewish parables and Jewish eschatological texts.228
An ancient audience accustomed to the rhetorical and literary practice of comparing characters (see comment on 2:1-12) would readily contrast the responses of the unnamed woman, the disciples, and Judas around the question, “How much is Jesus worth?” (26:7-15). The hope that one’s name would endure for future generations,229 often through literary works,230 was common; in some cases one could claim that particular deeds would be recounted “everywhere” (cf. 26:13).231 Speakers could lament that it was better to have died232 or never have been born (26:24)233 than to face a particular fate. Designating Judas as “the betrayer” (26:48) is antonomasia.234 Punishment fitting the crime (cf. 26:52) appears widely in ancient Mediterranean thought and speech.235
Forensic rhetoric could attack or defend the integrity of witnesses as needed to support one’s case (cf. 26:59-61).236 A rhetorical handbook could provide techniques for how to employ witnesses to deceive hearers in courts. Thus in one earlier handbook, one could refuse to swear on the grounds that one did not wish to expose the defendant’s crime (thereby implying the person’s guilt without perjuring oneself by claiming it; Rhet. Alex. 15, 1432a.4-9). If one’s opponents attempted the same maneuver, however, one should demand “written depositions” (15, 1432a.9-11, LCL 347).237 To avoid being charged with perjury, one could swear about a statement that contained both a truth and an untruth, and if later interrogated one could explain that the oath applied to only the former part (Rhet. Alex. 15, 1432a.4-5). (Not surprisingly, one notorious “false accuser” later became a teacher of oratory!)238 Appealing to what the court had already heard, a speaker might reject the need for further reiteration or witnesses (cf. 26:65).239 Since rhetoric included proper gestures,240 we may also note the persuasive significance of tearing clothes for mourning,241 including in mourning over blasphemy.242 It is less clear how we should visualize the procedure in 26:66, since ideally hearers would give their opinion in an orderly way,243 but shouting and commotion also occurred in court scenes.244
Later speakers looking for moral illustrations could present as noble a refusal to answer in the face of insurmountable injustice (27:12),245 although many would have seen such lack of concern for one’s defense as foolish and unnecessary if one had any chance of winning the case.246 By omitting gore and most details about Jesus’ anguish (which a writer could have legitimately inferred almost directly from the nature of crucifixion), Matthew (like the other Gospel writers) mostly forgoes the opportunity to stir pathos here.247
In 28:18-20, Matthew climaxes the Gospel and ties together many of its most important themes: Jesus’ authority (7:29; 8:9; 21:23-24; esp. “authority on earth” in 9:6) in 28:18, as king in the “kingdom of heaven” (cf. 3:2; 4:17; 10:7); all peoples in 28:19 (cf. 1:3-6; 2:1; 3:9; 4:15; 8:11, 28; 10:15; 11:23-24; 12:41-42; 16:13; 24:14; 25:32; 27:54); God “with us” (1:23; 18:20); discipleship; Jesus’ teaching; and so forth. Such a climax fits rhetorical expectations for speeches and many other works. Speeches often included a closing summary or recapitulation;248 epilogues by the rhetorically astute often summarized the forgoing work.249 While both ancient speeches and literary works sometimes had abrupt endings,250 Matthew’s summarizing conclusion thus comes as no surprise.
One could go on. Nevertheless, I conclude this brief exercise by reiterating that though rhetorical observations from the wider Greco-Roman world are helpful for a general context, they cannot replace the importance of exploring the more specifically Jewish rhetoric in this Gospel and its traditions, which often provide much closer analogies (sometimes even in specific wording or images) than Greek or Roman rhetorical handbooks do. This observation especially holds for scenes that transpire in a rural Galilean setting; Jesus’ debates with urban aristocrats in Jerusalem could naturally take on more of the conventional flavor of public verbal conflicts characteristic of other Mediterranean urban settings. The Jewish context of Matthew is highlighted more deliberately in the following commentary.
1. E.g., in my own work on 1–2 Corinthians and Acts, I have regularly profited from the insights of Ben Witherington III, Conflict and Community in Corinth: A Socio-Rhetorical Commentary on 1 and 2 Corinthians (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1995); idem, The Acts of the Apostles: A Socio-Rhetorical Commentary (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1998); rhetorical insights are profoundly important for these parts of the NT.
2. Herwig Görgemanns, “Biography: Greek,” 2:648-51 in Brill’s New Pauly: Encyclopaedia of the Ancient World (ed. Hubert Cancik and Helmuth Schneider; English ed. editor Christine F. Salazar; Leiden: Brill, 2003).
3. Martin Hengel and Anna Maria Schwemer, Paul Between Damascus and Antioch: The Unknown Years (trans. John Bowden; London: SCM; Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox, 1997), 21-22.
4. See, e.g., Cicero Orator 40.139; Brutus 43.158; Dionysius of Halicarnassus Dem. 18, 20, 23; Philostratus Lives 2.4.569. Nevertheless, one should avoid excessive brevity (Cicero Pro Amer. 32.89; Verr. 2.1.9.24-25). Although I cannot enter a discussion of authorship here, those who affirm some level of Matthean authorship after the publication of Mark might be encouraged to find that eyewitnesses did sometimes draw on earlier sources (see esp. Xenophon Hell. 3.1.2); cf. also Xenophon’s dependence on another eyewitness source more than on his own limited experiences with Socrates (Xenophon Apol. 1.1-2).
5. David E. Aune, The Westminster Dictionary of New Testament and Early Christian Literature and Rhetoric (Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 2003), 173-74, 456-58.
6. E.g., Tob 1:1; PGM 13.343; “A copy of the book ‘The Words of the Vision of Amram,’” 4Q543 fr. 1.1 (in Michael Wise, Martin Abegg Jr., and Edward Cook, The Dead Sea Scrolls: A New Translation [San Francisco: Harper SanFrancisco, 1999], 434); Rev 1:1.
7. See, e.g., Rhet. Alex. 29, 1436a.33-39; Cicero Orator 40.137; Dionysius of Halicarnassus Thuc. 19; Pliny Ep. 2.3.3; Fronto Eloquence 3.4; Bernhard Zimmermann, “Prologue,” 12:2-4 in Brill’s New Pauly (2008), 2-3; R. Dean Anderson Jr., Glossary of Greek Rhetorical Terms Connected to Methods of Argumentation, Figures and Tropes from Anaximenes to Quintilian (Leuven: Peeters, 2000), 67-68; for examples, Polybius 3.1.3–3.5.9 (esp. 3.1.7); 11.1.1-5; Virgil Aen. 1.1-6; Dionysius of Halicarnassus Lys. 24; Seneca Controv. 1.pref.21; Dio Chrysostom Or. 38.8; Aulus Gellius pref. 25; Soranus Gynec. 1.intro.2; Philostratus Vit. Apoll. 7.1; 8.1; Monika Asztalos, “Apuleius’ Apologia in a Nutshell: The Exordium,” Classical Quarterly 55 (1, 2005): 266-76.
8. See, e.g., Rhet. Alex. 29, 1436a.33-39; 1436b.17–1438a.2; 36, 1441b.36–1442b.27; Dionysius of Halicarnassus Lys. 17; Cicero Inv. 1.15.20; Quintilian Inst. Or. 3.7.23-24 (cf. 4.1.16, 23); Hans Armin Gärtner, “Prooemium,” 12:16-18 in Brill’s New Pauly (2008), 16; Lucia Calboli Montefusco, “Exordium,” 5:272-73 in Brill’s New Pauly (2004), 272; Aune, Dictionary of Rhetoric, 176; Malcolm Heath, “Invention,” 89-119 in Handbook of Rhetoric, 103; for examples, see Aeschines Ctes. 1; Cicero De or. 1.31.143; Quinct. 2.10; Sest. 1.2; Rosc. com. 3.7; Fam. 13.66.1; Statius Silvae 2.pref.; Dio Chrysostom Or. 34.7-8; 39.1; 41.1; Heraclitus Homeric Problems 59.7; Ps.-Dionysius Epideictic 1.256-57; Menander Rhetor 2.3, 378.4-9; 2.4, 392; Chariton Chaer. 5.7.1; Let. Aris. 1–2; Sipre Deut. 343.1.2. Cf. also Aristotle Rhet. bk. 2, esp. 2.1.1-9, 1377b–1378a; and the 56 selections in Demosthenes’ Exordia.
9. Rhet. Alex. 35, 1440b.23-24; see, e.g., Tacitus Agricola 4. One starts with pedigree both for people and animals (1440b.24-29). One’s background was an important element in biography; see, e.g., Suetonius Aug. 1-2; Louis H. Feldman, “Philo’s View of Moses’ Birth and Upbringing,” CBQ 64 (2, 2002): 258-81. Some Jewish traditions may have differed by region (cf. R. Kalmin, “Genealogy and Polemics in Rabbinic Literature of Late Antiquity,” HUCA 67 [1996]: 77-94).
10. E.g., Xenophon Ages. 1.2; Eunapius Lives 498; Gorgias Hel. 3. Ancients inspected pure lineage for participation in priesthoods (e.g., Hermogenes Issues 65.4-6; David Frankfurter, Religion in Roman Egypt: Assimilation and Resistance [Princeton, NJ: Princeton University, 1998], 199) and other public honors (cf. even Indian philosophers in Philostratus Vit. Apoll. 2.30).
11. Hermogenes Issues 46.14-17. Others, though, might start with one’s city (Menander Rhetor 2.1-2, 369.18–370.8) before discussing one’s family background (370.9-28), birth (370.28– 371.17), rearing (371.17-23), and education (371.23–372.2). For “origin and birth” in ancient encomia, see Bruce J. Malina and Jerome H. Neyrey, Portraits of Paul: An Archaeology of Ancient Personality (Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 1996), 24-26.
12. Rhet. Alex. 35, 1440b.29-30.
13. Genealogies could skip generations (Aune, Dictionary of Rhetoric, 195, citing Esther, Plutarch and Appian). For the sake of chronology, one might also underestimate some time spans (thus the later period in Tacitus Dial. 16).
14. Rhet. Alex. 35, 1440b.33-38, allowing one to skip later ancestors if only the earliest were great (reversing this, if the nearer ancestors were the great ones, in 1440b.38–1441a.5). People were more prone to notice honorable characteristics or achievements if they also ran in one’s family (e.g., Philostratus Vit. soph. 2.25.611); many people expected that one from a bad family would turn out badly (e.g., Theophrastus Char. 28.2), and could deride another by ridiculing his low birth (e.g., Josephus Ag. Ap. 2.41). A city might invent foreign birth for a particularly unsavory character (e.g., Polybius 2.55.9).
15. Suetonius freely notes the negative ancestors in Tiberius’s line (Tib. 1.1–2.4), though his point is admittedly not unmitigated praise of Tiberius (cf. Tib. 3.1).
16. Aune, Dictionary of Rhetoric, 195. Matthew’s formula for linking ancestors also fits the rhetorical form sorites (Aune, Dictionary of Rhetoric, 446-47).
17. E.g., Xenophon Ages. 1.2 (the Loeb note cites other sources), though this case includes legendary or mythical ancestors. The earliest ancestors in Greek mythical tradition were often confused (C. W. Fornara, The Nature of History in Ancient Greece and Rome [Berkeley: University of California, 1983], 6), but Jews had a fixed canon for the early ancestors. Like many biblical genealogies, Matthew’s is longer than typical Greek and Roman ones (Aune, Dictionary of Rhetoric, 195).
18. Ancient historians could develop and expand a true datum, but disapproved using known fiction for this purpose (Fornara, Nature of History, 134-36). A more fictitious work, of course, could develop more noble lineages for protagonists (see, e.g., John Byron, “Noble Lineage as a Response to Enslavement in the Testament of Naphtali 1.9-12,” Journal of Jewish Studies 55 [1, 2004]: 45-57).
19. Rhet. Alex. 35, 1441a.5-13.
20. E.g., Philostratus Vit. soph. 1.22.521-22; cf. Plutarch Them. 1.1.
21. For the mother’s husband functioning as true father, see, e.g., Saundra Schwartz, “Callirhoe’s Choice: Biological vs Legal Paternity,” Greek, Roman and Byzantine Studies 40 (1, 1999): 23-52.
22. See Aune, Dictionary of Rhetoric, 195.
23. SB 3924 in Robert K. Sherk, ed., The Roman Empire: Augustus to Hadrian (New York: Cambridge University, 1988), §35 B, p. 61. Suetonius’s biographies often provide the background of real ancestry, rather the new ancestry by adoption; but this is likely because he has already treated the adopters earlier.
24. E.g., Pliny Ep. 10.1.1; 10.3A.1; 10.4.2.
25. E.g., Gorgias Hel. 3.
26. Plutarch Cic. 26.6. For public figures, a wife being above suspicion was necessary (Suetonius Jul. 74.2; cf. 43.1), especially given the danger of being charged as an accomplice for her infidelity (Tacitus Ann. 2.85; Constanze Ebner, “Lenocinium,” 7:387 in Brill’s New Pauly (2005); O. F. Robinson, The Criminal Law of Ancient Rome [London: Duckworth; Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University, 1995], 67-68).
27. E.g., Menander Rhetor 2.1-2, 371.17-23 (for the emperor); on nurture and training in encomia, see further Malina and Neyrey, Portraits, 27-28. Parentage could also be used to deride one (e.g., Ps.-Cicero Invective Against Sallust 5.13).
28. See especially Margaret H. Williams, “Palestinian Jewish Personal Names in Acts,” 79-114 in The Book of Acts in Its Palestinian Setting (ed. Richard Bauckham; vol. 4 in The Book of Acts in Its First Century Setting; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans; Carlisle: Paternoster Press, 1995), 89.
29. Lucian Demonax 31 (linking two persons named Apollonius).
30. Theon Progymn. 9.52-53.
31. Hans-Josef Klauck, The Religious Context of Early Christianity: A Guide to Graeco-Roman Religions (trans. Brian McNeil; Minneapolis: Fortress, 2003), 300. Omens surrounding his birth (Suetonius Aug. 94) include a serpent (94.4, fitting traditions about Heracles and others). At a later period, cf. Philostratus Vit. Apoll. 1.4-5 on Apollonius.
32. See Menander Rhetor 2.1-2, 371.5-6; Hermogenes Progymn. 7. On Encomion, 15.
33. E.g., Menander Rhetor 2.1-2, 371.11-12. Dreams surrounding the birth of Alexander (Plutarch Alex. 2.3) and Augustus (Suetonius Aug. 94.8) serve royal propagandistic functions. Cf. also the dream at Apollonius’s birth in Philostratus Vit. Apoll. 1.5 (though Philostratus writes much later).
34. See comments on the technique in Aune, Dictionary of Rhetoric, 110; Anderson, Glossary, 110-11; Craig S. Keener, The Gospel of John: A Commentary (2 vols.; Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 2003), 916-17, 1183-84, with documentation. See, e.g., Dionysius of Halicarnassus Dem. 33.
35. Aune, Environment, 65 (citing Theon. Progymn. 8); David A. deSilva, Honor, Patronage, Kinship and Purity: Unlocking New Testament Culture (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity, 2000), 162-63.
36. Including ancestry was never necessary (see, e.g., the comments of Philostratus Vit. soph. pref. 480).
37. Roland Mushat Frye, “The Synoptic Problems and Analogies in Other Literatures,” 261-302 in The Relationships Among the Gospels: An Interdisciplinary Dialogue (ed. William O. Walker Jr.; San Antonio: Trinity University Press, 1978), 274, on Einhard’s biography of Charlemagne.
38. Menander Rhetor 2.1-2, 371.3-4.
39. See Christopher D. Stanley, Paul and the Language of Scripture: Citation Technique in the Pauline Epistles and Contemporary Literature (SNTSMS 69; Cambridge: Cambridge University, 1992), passim (see esp. 291; cf. 335, 337, 342-44).
40. Cf. Paul’s allusions to OT contexts in Richard B. Hays, Echoes of Scripture in the Letters of Paul (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1989).
41. Thuc. 15; cf. his emphasis on graphic scenes in Comp. 18. By contrast, historians in Polybius’s mold complained when depictions became too graphic (15.34.1), hence may have appreciated Matthew’s restraint (failing to depict the gory scene). Nowhere does Matthew provide the detailed descriptions that appealed to subsequent Second Sophistic orators in earlier histories (e.g., Fronto Ad Ant. Imp. 2.6.4-15). Romans would understand the figurative outcry of a mother from her tomb on behalf of a doomed son (Seneca the Elder Controv. 7.1.21).
42. See Stanley, Paul and Language, 290-91, 322, 337, 342, 349. For one example in an orator, see Maximus of Tyre Or. 41.3 (apparently conflating Homer Il. 14.80 with Il. 12.327).
43. Although such conflation was natural, it could become problematic if a critic objected to it (as later in Mark’s case; see John Granger Cook, The Interpretation of the New Testament in Greco-Roman Paganism [Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 2002; Tübingen: J. C. B. Mohr, 2000], 136).
44. See Menander Rhetor 2.3, 386.9; 2.10, 416.24-25; Fronto Ad M. Caes. 3.12; Ad Verum Imp. 2.2; Lucian Nigr. 15; Dem. 3; in philosophers, e.g., Diogenes Laertius 6.2.69; Musonius Rufus 9, p. 74.5-7.
45. E.g., Appian R.H. 9.11.3; cf. Arrian Alex. 5.28.1. Lucian mocks Cynics for such behavior (Philosophies for Sale 8, 10).
46. Dionysius of Halicarnassus Ant. rom. 11.9.1; Tacitus Hist. 1.15; Plutarch Aem. Paul. 11.3; Flatt. 1-37, Mor. 48E-74E; Dio Chrysostom Or. 4.15.
47. Cicero Phil. 2.12.29. Cicero was a noted master of rhetorical insults (e.g., Pis. 27.66; Plutarch Cic. 5.4; 26.6; 38.2-6; cf. Cicero De or. 2.58.236). In the Middle East, see John J. Pilch, “The Art of Insult,” Bible Today 36 (3, 1998): 179-84. “Serpent” could be an insult (Plutarch Them. 29.1), and insults could exploit wordplays (Suetonius Jul. 50.2).
48. E.g., Plutarch Cic. 27.1; 39.1. Banter and making fun of others were common in speech and entertained the audience; but if one overdid it one got the reputation for being malicious (Plutarch Cicero 5.4).
49. See Craig S. Keener, “‘Brood of Vipers’ (Mt. 3.7; 12.34; 23.33),” JSNT 28 (1, Sept. 2005): 3-11. On vipers sewn into the sack with parricides, I inadvertently neglected Modestinus Dig. 48.9.9 (though cf. Robinson, Criminal Law, 47).
50. See Craig S. Keener, “Human Stones in a Greek Setting — Luke 3.8//Matthew 3.9; Luke 19.40,” Journal of Greco-Roman Christianity and Judaism 6 (2009): 28-36.
51. E.g., Josh 8:31; 2 Kgs 23:21; 2 Chron 23:18; 25:4; 31:3; 35:12; Ezra 3:2, 4; 6:18; Neh 8:15; 10:34, 36; Dan 9:13; Mek. Pisha 1.76-77; 3 En. passim.
52. E.g., contrary citations of Homer in Lucian Dead Come to Life/Fishermen 3. Ps 90 was often used for apotropaic purposes (Thomas J. Kraus, “Septuaginta-Psalm 90 in apotropäischer Verwendung: Vorüberlegungen für eine kritische Edition und (bisheriges) Datenmaterial,” BN 125 [2005]: 39-73). Greeks might compare the three temptations with those offered Alexander of Troy in Apollodorus Epitome 3.2.
53. Lucian Philosophies for Sale 11; Alciphron Fishermen 8 (Eucolymbus to Glaucê), 1.8; 9 (Aegialeus to Struthion), 1.9; 13 (Evagrus to Philotherus), 3.3; 17 (Encymon to Halictypus), 1.14; Xenophon of Ephesus Eph. 5.1; Apollonius King of Tyre 12, 51; Augustine Tractates on Jn 7.17.3. For perceptions of their endurance, however, see Alciphron Fishermen 15 (Nausibius to Prymnaeus), 1.12. The departure of fishermen could bring hardship to those left behind; Alciphron Fishermen 2 (Galenaeus to Cyrton), 1.2; 5 (Naubates to Rhothius), 1.5.
54. Cicero Brutus 91.315-16. Occasionally one might continue studies even longer (Valerius Maximus 8.7. ext. 4). Josephus (Life 10), Cicero (D. L. Stamps, “Children in Late Antiquity,” 197-201 in Dictionary of Background, 198), and some others (Eunapius Lives 493) started advanced studies at 16, and we need not suppose that most of Jesus’ disciples were older (though Peter, at least, was already married; Mk 1:30).
55. Lucian Timon, or Misanthrope 56-57; cf. Philosophies for Sale 9.
56. E.g., Pindar Nem. 5.2-3; Cicero Quint. fratr. 1.1.1; Silius Italicus 4.1-9; 6.554; Statius Theb. 4.369; Tacitus Ann. 2.82-83; 4.23, 46; 14.58; Hist. 1.51; 2.42; 4.12, 34; Pliny Ep. 6.20.15. Reports about famous teachers also spread quickly (Iamblichus Vit. Pyth. 2.11; Eunapius Lives 465).
57. E.g., Eunapius Lives 493; Statius Theb. 6.249-54; Lucian Alex. 2; Philostratus Hrk. 28.10.
58. For such scenes, which ancients seem to have taken for granted, see, e.g., Thucydides 2.86.6–2.88.1; 4.9.4–4.11.1; Polybius 15.10; Dionysius of Halicarnassus Ant. rom. 6.6.1–6.9.6 (esp. 6.8.1); Quintus Curtius 4.14.1-6, 9-26; 5.8.6-17; 6.3.1-18; Appian Hist. rom. 8.7.42; 8.17.116; Bell. civ. 4.16.126; Arrian Alex. 3.9.5-7; Tacitus Hist. 2.32; Ann. 3.46; 14.36; Deut 20:3-4; 1QM 10.2-5; Josephus Ant. 3.44-45. In more recent times, Benjamin Franklin showed that over 30,000 could hear George Whitefield preaching even on a single occasion (Mark A. Noll, A History of Christianity in the United States and Canada [Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1992], 93).
59. Cf. plainly Philostratus Vit. Apoll. 1.17 (for the meaning, cf. 1.1).
60. E.g., George A. Kennedy, New Testament Interpretation through Rhetorical Criticism (Chapel Hill, NC: University of North Carolina, 1984), 55: a proem (the beatitudes, 5:3-12), a proposition (5:17-20), an explanation of “Jesus’ view of the principle of the law” (5:21-48), and an explanation of 5:20’s “righteousness” in 6:1-18.
61. Granted, one could see the beatitudes (5:3-12) as building rapport with the audience, as recommended at the beginning of a speech; and 7:24-27 as a rousing peroratio; but some other elements in the speech could serve these same functions, so one wonders if we do not identify these elements as fulfilling the function because of our expectations based on their location in the speech. If these do belong to a rhetorical outline, we must attribute such rhetorical concerns even to the likely source “Q,” where they were already in this position (Lk 6:20-23, 47-49).
62. See Rhet. Alex. 35, 1440b.20-23. Cf. cognate language for praising the deceased as if divine in Menander Rhetor 2.9, 414.25-26.
63. Demetrius Eloc. 5.268; Rhet. Her. 4.13.19; Anderson, Glossary, 19; Anderson, Rhetorical Theory, 170; Aune, Dictionary of Rhetoric, 34, 157-58; Galen O. Rowe, “Style,” 121-57 in Handbook of Rhetoric, 131; Porter, “Paul and Letters,” 579; John A. L. Lee, “Translations of the Old Testament, I. Greek,” 775-83 in Handbook of Rhetoric, 779; C. Clifton Black, “An Oration at Olivet: Some Rhetorical Dimensions of Mark 13,” 66-92 in Persuasive Artistry: Studies in New Testament Rhetoric in Honor of George A. Kennedy (ed. Duane F. Watson; JSNTSup 50; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1991), 86. For examples, see e.g., Fronto Ad M. Caes. 2.3.1, 3; 3.3; Ad Antoninum Imp. 2.6.2; Ad Verum Imp. 2.1.4; De Nepote Amisso 2.9. On beatitudes, see also Aune, Dictionary of Rhetoric, 75-78.
64. For inclusio, see further now Aune, Dictionary of Rhetoric, 229; within a single sentence or clause (as prosapodosis), see Rowe, “Style,” 130; for inclusio and chiasm (providing both Jewish and Gentile examples), see especially John D. Harvey, Listening to the Text: Oral Patterning in Paul’s Letters (foreword by Richard N. Longenecker; Grand Rapids: Baker; Leicester: Apollos, 1998), 61-96. For examples, see, e.g., Plutarch Dem. 26.4; 28.5; Pliny Ep. 3.16.1, 13; Catullus 52.1, 4; 57.1, 10.
65. E.g., Diogenes Laertius 6.1.11. In later sources, some rabbis allegedly preferred to be cursed, to increase their heavenly blessing (p. Peah 8:7, §3).
66. See, e.g., Musonius Rufus 10, pp. 76.18–78.4; 78.12-19; Diogenes Laertius 6.2.58.
67. Lucian Demonax 28 (LCL 1:159).
68. In classical Athens, for the former, Lysias Or. 30.17, §184; for the latter, Lysias Or. 30.2, §183. Judaism rejected changing God’s commandments (e.g., 4Q286 frg. 7, col. 2.12; Pes. Rab Kah. Sup. 1:8).
69. See, e.g., Hermogenes Issues 87.2-9.
70. Hermogenes Issues 40.6-19; 80.4-13; 82.13-18; Robinson, Criminal Law, 16. The person’s intention also matters (e.g., Hermogenes Issues 61.16-18; 72.14–73.3; Cicero Fin. 3.9.32; Seneca Controv. 10.1.9; p. Ber. 2:1); approving a deed might rhetorically invite a charge of moral liability (Cicero Phil. 2.12.29; cf. Rom 1:32). Porphyry Marc. 25.398-401 later opined that laws were adapted to the times, but powerless to transform individuals. True righteousness must exceed laws (Dio Chrysostom Or. 69.8-9).
71. E.g., Lysias Or. 31.27, §189; Hermogenes Issues 66.12-13; 86.4-5; 91.9-13. Some preferred to have good laws define as many details as possible (Aristotle Rhet. 1.1.7, 1354a); for the ideal that laws not be obscure, see Philostratus Vit. soph. 2.33.628. Nevertheless, forensic orators pressed the distinction between letter and intent (Hermogenes Issues 40.6-19; 82.4-5; 83.20), and tried to identify exceptions that could be expanded analogously (e.g., Cicero Mil. 3.9; 4.9, in a case of special pleading). They looked for exceptions implicit in the laws (Seneca Controv. 9.4, e.g., 9.4.9). See also debates about how to apply the law’s meaning in Hermogenes Issues 65.1-8.
72. E.g., Dio Chrysostom Or. 31.86.
73. E.g., Song Rab. 5:11, §3. On personified letters, see e.g., Ps.-Lucian Consonants at Law.
74. Anderson, Glossary, 23; Rowe, “Style,” 131; Porter, “Paul and Letters,” 579; Lee, “Translations,” 779; Black, “Oration,” 86.
75. See, e.g., Cicero Fin. 4.27.74-75 (against the view); Pliny Ep. 8.2.3; Arius Didymus Epit. 2.7.11k, p. 84.15-17; 2.7.111, pp. 85.34–87.20; 2.7.11o, p. 96.22-29.
76. Cf., e.g., 1QpHab 6.2; 1QM 11.5-6; CD 4.13, 19-20; 6.13; 7.8, 14; 8.9, 14; 9.7-9; 10.16; m. Ab. 1:18; 2:13; Mek. Pisha 1.70-71; Ab. R. Nat. 36 A. Cf. “they do X, but Moses said Y” (CD 5.18). “I say to you” was not just Jesus’ teaching form (Matt 3:9; Acts 5:38; cf. Rev 2:24; Michael O. Wise, “Dead Sea Scrolls: General Introduction,” 252-66 in Dictionary of Background, p. 264), and a contrast like that between Jesus’ “you heard” and “I said” recurs in 1 Cor 7:10-12, where Paul expounds Jesus’ own teaching.
77. See also, e.g., Rhet. Her. 4.2.2. The title might apply especially to those in remote antiquity (Tacitus Dial. 16; Athenaeus Deipn. 8.363D).
78. Lysias Or. 10; Gottfried Schiemann, “Libel,” 7:483 in Brill’s New Pauly (2005); Gerhard Thür, “Kakegoria,” 7:5 in Brill’s New Pauly (2005). In CD 9.3-6, speaking in anger is deathworthy.
79. Dio Chrysostom Or. 47.8, 16.
80. E.g., Rhet. Alex. 11, 1430b.16-19; Rhet. Her. 4.33.44 (but cf. 2.20.32); Cicero Orator 40.139; cf. Philostratus Hrk. 48.11; Vit. Apoll. 8.7; Song Rab. 1:15, §3; Anderson, Glossary, 122-24; Rowe, “Style,” 128.
81. See, e.g., Fronto Ad M. Caes. 3.3; Philostratus Hrk. 16.6; 25.5. Breaking an oath despised the deity it had invoked (Plutarch Lysander 8.4). Some swore by cabbages, dogs, and the like (Lucian Philosophies for Sale 16; Athenaeus Deipn. 9.370BC), and some warned against swearing by deities (Iamblichus Vit. Pyth. 28.150) or recognized that a virtuous life might obviate need for an oath (Cicero Balb. 5.12). For its use in courts, see Gottfried Schiemann, “Ius iurandum,” 6:1134-35 in Brill’s New Pauly (2005).
82. Musonius Rufus 10, p. 78.11, 16-28; Iamblichus Vit. Pyth. 10.51; 27.126. This could include enduring blows (Musonius Rufus 10, p. 76.23-24; Maximus of Tyre Or. 34.9). Pythagoreans, however, could kill when necessary (Iamblichus Vit. Pyth. 31.191). A blow to the face was a grievous insult (Plutarch Platonic Questions 9.4, Mor. 1010F), one that later rabbis also took very seriously (b. Sanh. 58b).
83. Epictetus Disc. 1.25.21. For disregarding the value of clothing, cf. Musonius Rufus 19, pp. 120.18–122.11.
84. See, e.g., Libanius Declamation 36.
85. See Peter Marshall, Enmity in Corinth: Social Conventions in Paul’s Relations with the Corinthians (WUNT 2, Reihe, 23; Tübingen: J. C. B. Mohr [Paul Siebeck], 1987), 35-69. Jesus’ command was quite unusual (Tom Holmén, Jesus and Jewish Covenant Thinking [Biblical Interpretation Series 55; Leiden: Brill, 2001], 271-72). Some did forgive personal enemies (Musonius Rufus frg. 39, p. 136.10-16; Plutarch Arist. 25.7), and some did abhor enmity on a corporate level (cf. Seneca Ep. Lucil. 95.30). Some “impractical sages advocating peace risked death at the hands of scoffing soldiers” (Tacitus Hist. 3.81, on Musonius during the civil war).
86. E.g., Romans speaking of Persians (Cicero Verr. 2.1.18.48) or the enemy Mithridates (Verr. 2.2.21.51); or one could speak of imitating virtue even in a foreigner (Aeschines Tim. 180). For the rhetorical style, “not as others,” see, e.g., Rhet. Her. 3.7.14.
87. Quintilian Inst. 4.5.3; Pliny Ep. 2.20.9; cf. Cicero Pro Murena 5.11. Some also detect a common triple pattern in oral traditions (James D. G. Dunn, A New Perspective on Jesus: What the Quest for the Historical Jesus Missed [Grand Rapids: Baker, 2005], 115).
88. Cicero Quinct. 10.35.
89. E.g., 1 Sam 10:7. Cf. also repulsing with one hand while welcoming with the other (b. Sanh. 107b, bar.), or taking with one hand negatively what the Romans gave generously with the other (Polybius 38.10.8).
90. E.g., even from one’s shirt (Valerius Maximus 7.4.5).
91. See, e.g., Rowe, “Style,” 131; Anderson, Rhetorical Theory, 163.
92. Rowe, “Style,” 128.
93. Cf., e.g., Rhet. Her. 4.53.66; Hermogenes Progymn. 9. On Ethopoeia, 20 (when speaking); Menander Rhetor 1.1.333.21-24; for examples, Horace Sat. 2.1.58; Seneca Ep. Lucil. 113; Dio Chrysostom Or. 1.10 (“Persuasion”); 77/78.33; Heraclitus Hom. Prob. 28.1; Fronto in Naber p. 211, section 7; Menander Rhetor 1.1.342.6-9; Sir 41:1-2; Sifre Deut. 305.3.3; Tg. Ps.-Jon. on Deut 9:19.
94. Rhet. Her. 4.33.45 (LCL 1:343).
95. E.g., Pliny N.H. 21 (on flowers); Plutarch Cleverness of Animals (Mor. 959B-985C).
96. See, e.g., Amen-em-opet, ch. 18 (ANET, 1955, p. 423); Seneca Ep. Lucil. 101.8, 10; I. Abrahams, Studies in Pharisaism and the Gospels (2nd series; Cambridge: Cambridge University, 1924), 208-9.
97. See, e.g., Cicero Orator 40.137; Anderson, Glossary, 51; for examples (of different kinds), see, e.g., Dio Chrysostom Or. 47.12-14; Lucian Tyrannicide 10. For removing the beam from the eye, cf. b. ʿArakin 16b, bar.
98. E.g., Ex 31:18; Judg 15:17; 1 Sam 18:1; 2 Sam 13:36; Lk 5:4; Xenophon Hell. 3.5.25 (concluding a book; but also elsewhere, 4.8.19); Quintus Curtius 5.9.1; Musonius Rufus 8, p. 66.26. Most sources, however, do not employ it as a consistent structuring device.
99. In addition to Jewish examples we treated at Matt 13:11, see Eunapius Lives 371-72. Historically the secret more likely reveals Jesus’ dependence on the Father (Marianne Meye Thompson, “Jesus and His God,” 41-55 in The Cambridge Companion to Jesus [ed. Markus Bockmuehl; Cambridge: Cambridge University, 2001], 54) and might follow some earlier Jewish patterns of discretion (1 Sam 10:16; perhaps Amos 7:14; Lk 2:19).
100. E.g., Statius Silvae 2.6; Cicero Fam. 16.4.3; 16.6.1; 16.13.1 (a freedman); Pliny Ep. 5.19.1-2 (a freedman); 8.16.1-4. Cf. seeking medical attention in Xenophon Mem. 2.4.3; 2.10.2.
101. Caesar Gallic War 1.40; even heroic disobedience invited discipline (Valerius Maximus 2.7.8, for a cavalry commander).
102. Xenophon Cyr. 5.3.49-50.
103. Applied, e.g., to Diogenes the Cynic (Maximus of Tyre Or. 36.3-5); Crates (Musonius Rufus 14, p. 92.1-4); or Pythagoras (Iamblichus Vit. Pyth. 32.214); for sages’ sacrifices, cf., e.g., Ab. R. Nat. 11A. For “nests” as analogies for homes, see, e.g., Fronto Ad Antoninum Imp. 1.1; Philostratus Letters 10 (50); Proverbs 27:8.
104. Cicero Quinct. 1.5.
105. Gerhard Thür, “Kakosis,” 7:6 in Brill’s New Pauly (2005).
106. E.g., Aeschines Tim. 99; Lysias Or. 31.20-22, §§188-89; it could prevent one from taking office (Xenophon Mem. 2.2.13). A son must bury even a dishonorable and hurtful parent that he is not obliged to support (Aeschines Tim. 13-14); adopted sons also must bury parents (Isaeus Menecles 10, 36; Nicostratus 19; Astyphilus 4).
107. Xenophon Apol. 20 (Socrates, maintaining that youth would heed physicians over parents in matters of health). Some sages emphasized honoring parents (Iamblichus Vit. Pyth. 8.38-39) and burying them (Philostratus Vit. Apoll. 1.13); some sages emphasized valuing philosophy above parents (e.g., Iamblichus Vit. Pyth. 34.246), but some thinkers opined that no one raised well would honor another above parents (Lucian My Native Land 3). Stoics often qualified the conditions for and nature of obedience (e.g., Musonius Rufus 16; cf. others in Dio Chrysostom Or. 12.10; Lucian Hermotimus 23).
108. Xenophon Cyr. 8.4.6-27.
109. E.g., Aeschines Ctes. 225; Dionysius of Halicarnassus Ant. rom. 9.53.3; Plutarch Cam. 9.2; Philostratus Vit. soph. 1.15.500; Iamblichus Vit. Pyth. 30.172; cf. military strategists in Quintus Curtius 5.9.3.
110. Aelius Aristides Def. Or. 247–49, §76D; Tacitus Dial. 23, 41.
111. Polybius 3.7.5; 12.25d.3-5.
112. See Xenophon Mem. 4.2.5; Cicero Tusc. 4.27.58; Livy 42.40.3; Philo Good Person 12; Seneca Ep. Lucil. 40.5; 72.6; 75.6; 85.36; Musonius Rufus 1, p. 32.8-12; 1, p. 34.3; 2 p. 36.27-32; 3 p. 42.19-21; 5 p. 50.3-8 with 5 pp. 48.1-50.3; 6, p. 52.10, 27; 8, p. 66.16-18; 16, p. 100.20-21, 27; p. 104.9-10; Epictetus Diatr. 2.14.21; Dio Chrysostom Or. 1.8; 8.5; 13.32; 27.7; 32.17-18; 33.44; 34.26; 38.7; Pliny Ep. 5.16.10; Philodemus Crit. frg. 7; 39; 59.9; 63; 64; 69; 86 (= 90 N); Col. 17 a; also Tablet 12 M; Lucian Phil. Sale 8; Dem. 7; Nigr. 38; Ps.-Lucian Hipp. 1; Anacharsis Ep. 9; Crates Ep. 17; Diogenes Ep. 49; Diogenes Laertius 2.70; 6.1.4; 6.2.30; Diodorus Siculus 12.13.4; Philostratus Vit. Apoll. 7.26; Ep. Apoll. 1; probably also Musonius Rufus fr. 36; Philodemus Crit. Tablet 12, end; Maximus of Tyre 1.2-3; 4.2; 22.7; Mk 2:17; for harsh Cynics, see Abraham J. Malherbe, Paul and the Popular Philosophers (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1989), 135. In Judaism, see, e.g., Ab. R. Nat. 23A; p. Ket. 7:7, §3.
113. Christiane Reitz, “Catalogue,” 3:6-8 in Brill’s New Pauly (2003), 6-7 (citing, e.g., Virgil Aen. 7.641-817; 10.120-45). For lists of heroes, besides those in the commentary, see, e.g., Valerius Flaccus 1.352-483; cf. Cyrus H. Gordon, The Ancient Near East (New York: W. W. Norton & Company, 1965), 110.
114. They could also include a chain of successors who passed on the early tradition (Iamblichus Vit. Pyth. 36.265-66; m. Ab. 1:1-12) or a list of all known disciples’ names (Iamblichus Vit. Pyth. 36.267).
115. See, e.g., Lucian True Story 2.7.
116. On epitheton, see Porter, “Paul and Letters,” 580; Anderson, Glossary, 52-53; on antonomasia, see Rowe, “Style,” 128 (mentioning Judas as “the betrayer” in Matt 26:48); Anderson, Glossary, 23 (offering the same example). Strictly, epitheton is a substitute for a proper name (Rhet. Her. 4.31.42), whereas here it is a supplement.
117. E.g., the speech itself contains no narratio (Matthew’s narrative introduction in 10:1-4 is not a speech narratio) or proofs.
118. Musonius Rufus 19, pp. 120.18–122.11; Dio Chrysostom Or. 70.8; Lucian Runaways 27, 32; Timon, or Misanthrope 56; Fronto Eloquence 1.12; Eunapius Lives 471. See Alexandra T. Croom, Roman Clothing and Fashion (Charleston, SC: Tempus, 2000), 51.
119. E.g., Dio Chrysostom Or. 34.2; 64.18; cf. Ps.-Lucian Cynic 4, 19-20; negatively, Alciphron Farmers 38 (Euthydicus to Philiscus), 3.40. Cynics went slightly further than Stoics in attire (Juv. Sat. 13.121-22). Cynics were to live simply (e.g., Musonius Rufus 14, p. 92.1-2; Crates Ep. 3).
120. Lucian Demonax 48; Runaways 15, 20; Philostratus Ep. Apoll. 3-15, 51. Virtue rather than garb constituted a true philosopher (Musonius Rufus 16, p. 106.12-16; Dio Chrysostom Or. 34.3; 49.11; Maximus of Tyre Or. 1.9; Lucian Hermotimus 18; Runaways 14; Passing of Peregrinus 15; Double Indictment 6; Philosophies for Sale 9; Icaromenippus, or Sky-Man 31).
121. See Gerd Theissen and Annette Merz, The Historical Jesus: A Comprehensive Guide (trans. by John Bowden; Minneapolis: Fortress, 1998), 215-16.
122. See Xenophon Mem. 1.2.60, on Socrates.
123. For a similar style, cf. epanalepsis in Rowe, “Style,” 129-30; Black, “Oration,” 86.
124. E.g., 4 Macc 6:27-30; 9:7.
125. Epictetus Disc. 1.25.21; Maximus of Tyre Or. 3.2; cf. Crates Ep. 3.
126. Rowe, “Style,” 144-45.
127. Rowe, “Style,” 131.
128. Rowe, “Style,” 143.
129. Rowe, “Style,” 131. Cf. Demetrius Eloc. 5.268.
130. P. Oxy. 32; Phlm 17; Fronto Ad Amicos 1.4; cf. Pliny Ep. 6.9.1; Lucian Sham Sophist or Solecist 10. But cf. also Ex 16:8.
131. See on it Rowe, “Style,” 140-41.
132. E.g., Sipre Num. 93.1.3; Sipre Deut. 357.18.1-2; p. Ber. 1:5, §8; 2:7, §2; Lev. Rab. 31:4.
133. See Anderson, Glossary, 38.
134. E.g., Cicero Fam. 10.26.2; Att. 12.21; Ovid Fasti 3.374; Silius Italicus 1.1; 3.164, 594; Chariton Chaer. 3.2.5; Eunapius Lives 465. (Many of the texts refer to honor.) A general might be depicted as cast from the greatest height to the most abject depth (Seneca Nat. Q. 4.pref.22); those thought high are on a cliff (Seneca Ep. Lucil. 94.73), in danger of falling (94.73-74).
135. E.g., Aeschines Tim. 171-73; Alciphron Courtesans 7 (Thaïs to Euthydemus) 1.34; cf. Plutarch Alcib. 7.3; Philostratus Vit. soph 2.10.588. Cf. the response to such charges in Xenophon Mem. 1.2.2-26.
136. Hermogenes Issues 49.7-24.
137. E.g., Dio Chrysostom Or. 4.39 (expounding the passage in a way different from how his hearer had understood it in 4.40).
138. For short narratives climaxing in the protagonist’s incisive quip, see, e.g., Plutarch Ages. 21.4-5.
139. E.g., Philostratus Hrk. 33.8-9.
140. See, e.g., Rhet. Her. 4.23.33; Porter, “Paul and Letters,” 581.
141. E.g., Valerius Maximus 7.2. ext. 15. On resolving conflicts in the laws, cf. Hermogenes Issues 40.20; 41.1-13; 83.19–88.2. Mark’s “Sabbath for humanity, not humanity for the sabbath” (Mk 2:27) is antimetabole (Rowe, “Style,” 143).
142. Musonius Rufus 13B, p. 90.15-16. Division made people an easy prey for their enemies (Matt 12:25; Polybius 3.104.1), an observation that played significantly in some ancient rhetoric of unity (for such homonoia speeches, see, e.g., Dio Chrysostom Or. 34.17; 38.5-8; 40.26; Philostratus Vit. Apoll. 1.15; 6.38; different sources in Keener, John, 1061-62).
143. Hermogenes Issues 69.12-13. For attacking the accusers’ inconsistency in other respects, see, e.g., Plutarch Cicero 25.2. (“Sons of” can reflect members of a guild; “sons of Asclepius” referred to physicians, as in Philostratus Vit. Apoll. 3.44; Menander Rhetor 2.1-2, 375.14.)
144. E.g., Valerius Maximus 5.1. ext. 2a; Suetonius Julius 75.1; cf. 2 Chron 15:2.
145. Aelius Aristides Defense of Oratory 311, §101D; 340, §112D; 343-344, §114D; 446, §150D; cf. Cicero Verr. 1.1.2. For judging one by his own mouth, see Xenophon Cyr. 3.1.1-12; Anab. 1.6.9.
146. See, e.g., Rhet. Alex. 36, 1442b.6-9; Cicero Or. Brut. 40.137; De or. 3.204 (also metastasis in Anderson, Glossary, 72-73); for examples, Thucydides 3.61.1; 3.70.3-4; Xenophon Hell. 2.3.37; Lysias Or. 3.1, §96; Aeschines Fals. leg. 3; Ctes. 113, 156, 259; Dionysius of Halicarnassus Lys. 24; Cicero Sest. 37.80; Cael. 13.31; 24.60; Quinct. 3.11–9.33; further discussion in Craig S. Keener, “Some Rhetorical Techniques in Acts 24:2-21,” 221-51 in Paul’s World (ed. Stanley E. Porter; PAST 4; Leiden: E. J. Brill, 2008), 244-46; idem, John, 752-53.
147. For resemblance to Jewish parables, see additionally R. C. Newman, “Rabbinic Parables,” 909-11 in Dictionary of Background; for some contrasts and comparisons, see Gary G. Porton, “The Parable in the Hebrew Bible and Rabbinic Literature,” 206-21 in The Historical Jesus in Context (ed. Amy-Jill Levine, Dale C. Allison Jr., and John Dominic Crossan; Princeton: Princeton University, 2006), 207-9; for a Qumran agricultural parable, cf. 4Q302 frg. 2ii.2-9. For authenticity, see also Theissen and Merz, Historical Jesus, 337-39. For parables with fields, tenants, etc., see, e.g., Ab. R. Nat. 16 A; 30, §63 B; for “To what may we compare?” (Matt 13:24), cf., e.g., p. Ber. 2:7, §2.
148. Anderson, Glossary, 13; for a transparent public example, see Plutarch Cic. 14.4-5; for use at banquets, Athenaeus Deipn. 10.459B. Riddles were normally obscure, at least initially (Cicero Att. 7.13; Pliny Ep. 7.13.1); sometimes they were comprehensible only to those familiar with the speaker (e.g., Phaedrus 3.1.7).
149. E.g., Rhet. Her. 4.45; Cicero Orator 24.81; for allegory, see Rhet. Her. 4.34.46; Cicero Orator 27.94; for similes, Cicero Orator 40.138; Fronto Ad M. Caes. 3.8.2; Anderson, Glossary, 38.
150. Apocrit. 4.8-19. In contrast to the riddles of eastern sages, good Greco-Roman rhetoric was to be clear and understandable (Fronto Ad M. Caes. 3.1). Clarity and avoiding obscurity were important (Dionysius of Halicarnassus Dem. 5; 2 Amm. 2; Suetonius Grammarians 10; cf. further Rowe, “Style,” 123-24; Black, “Oration,” 84). Some philosophers did, however, prefer secrets (Plato Ep. 2.314A; Iamblichus Vit. Pyth. 17.75; 23.104) or an esoteric style (Iamblichus Vit. Pyth. 32.227; 34.245-47; Eunapius Lives 456), a style characteristic of oracles (e.g., Apollodorus Bib. 2.8.2; Dio Chrysostom Or. 13.9; Philostratus Vit. Apoll. 5.11, 13; 6.11; Sib. Or. 5.14-42). Some other subjects might be only for the ears of the few (Dionysius of Halicarnassus Comp. 25, comparing the mysteries), but one might merely pretend to offer such secrets (Menander Rhetor 2.17, 442.29-31).
151. Pliny Ep. 7.13.1. For Jewish parables normally having interpretations, see also Craig L. Blomberg, “The Parables of Jesus: Current Trends and Needs in Research,” 231-54 in Studying the Historical Jesus: Evaluations of the State of Current Research (ed. Bruce Chilton and Craig A. Evans; New Testament Tools and Studies 19; Leiden, New York, Köln: Brill, 1994), 234-35. Some of Pythagoras’s teachings allegedly had reasons attached, but others did not (a deficiency corrected by subsequent editors, Iamblichus Vit. Pyth. 18.86).
152. Philostratus Vit. soph. 2.29.621; Anderson, Glossary, 88 (on paradoxon); Black, “Oration,” 88 (on the figure controversia).
153. E.g., Lucretius Nat. 2.371-73; Seneca Ep. Lucil. 29.2; Pliny Ep. 7.9.7; Plutarch Cor. 16.2; 4 Ezra 9:31, 33. For plowing multiple times, cf. Xenophon Oec. 16.11-12; 17.10; for thorns as an analogy for difficulties, Seneca Controv. 1. pref. 22. “Binding” into “bundles” (a cognate) might resemble the sort of repetition valued in epanalepsis (on which see Rowe, “Style,” 129-30), though the repeated term is not precisely the same.
154. Cf. fishing images in Aesop Fable 11; Lucian Hermotimus, or Sects 65; Dialogues of Dead 359 (18/8, Cnemon and Damnippus 1); Dead Come to Life/Fishermen 51.
155. Seneca Ep. Lucil. 108.5-6. In Jewish tradition, cf. Ezek 33:32.
156. Menander Rhetor 2.8, 412.3–413.4.
157. E.g., Suetonius Calig. 32.1; otherwise for decapitations entertaining guests, Livy 39.42; Valerius Maximus 2.9.3; Plutarch M. Cato 17.2-3; or executions at banquets, Silius Italicus 11.51-54; Josephus Ant. 13.380. Displaying heads more generally was even more common (e.g., Polybius 11.18.6; Cicero Phil. 11.2.5; Valerius Maximus 9.2.1; 9.9.1; 9.10. ext. 1; Seneca Suasoriae 6.20; Pliny N.H. 33.14.48; Silius Italicus 2.202-5; 11.319-20; 15.813-14; Arrian Alex. 4.17.7; Quintus Curtius 7.4.40; Suetonius Galba 20.2; Tacitus Hist. 1.49; 2.16; 3.62; Ann. 14.57, 59, 64; Plutarch Cicero 49.1; Sulla 32.2; Philostratus Hrk. 28.12; Josephus Ant. 20.98). For rhetorical pathos in the image, see, e.g., Seneca Controv. 10.3.1, 5; Plutarch Caesar 48.2.
158. See Philostratus Vit. soph. 2.10.588.
159. E.g., Lucian Double Indictment 1. For figurative “blind guides,” see Xenophon Mem. 1.3.4; Dio Chrysostom Or. 62.7.
160. Cereidas frg. 1; Dio Chrysostom Or. 8.11; 9.3.
161. Callimachus Hymn 6 (to Demeter), 63; Theophrastus Char. 28.3; Dio Chrysostom Or. 9.9 (against a Cynic). Differently, cf. pet dogs: e.g., Xenophon Cyrop. 8.2.4; Pliny N.H. 8.61.142-45; Plutarch Them. 10.6; Alex. 61.1; Alciphron Farmers 19 (Polyalsus to Eustaphylus), 3.22; Lucian Lucius or Ass 27, 39; Xenophon Eph. 5.2.
162. E.g., Jer 7:9; Ezek 18:6-8, 11-13; Hos 4:2; 4Q477 frg. 2, col. 2, line 4; Wisd 14:22-27 (esp. 14:25-26); Philo Posterity 52. Cf. also eschatological vice lists (1QS 4.9-11; Sib. Or. 2.255-82; Test. Levi 17:11; 2 Tim 3:1-5; for Gentile equivalents, Hesiod W.D. 181–201; Lucian Men. 11–12).
163. E.g., Seneca Dial. 9.2.10-12; Epictetus Diatr. 2.8.23; Arius Didymus Epit. 2.7.5b, pp. 12-13.2-12; 2.7.10b, pp. 58-59.32–60-61.1; 2.7.10b, pp. 60-61.1-7; 2.7.10e, pp. 62-63.14-19; 2.7.11e, pp. 68-69.17-20; Diogenes Laertius 2.93.
164. E.g., Plato Law 1.649D; Aristotle E.E. 2.3.4, 1220b-1221a; Ps.-Aristotle V.V. 1249a-1251b; Diogenes Ep. 36; Philostratus Ep. Apoll. 43; Iamblichus Vit. Pyth. 17.78.
165. E.g., Rhet. Alex. 36, 1442a.13-14; Cicero Pis. 27.66; Cat. 2.4.7; 2.5.10; 2.10.22, 25; Cael. 22.55; Phil. 3.11.28; 8.5.16; Mur. 6.14 (negated); Ps.-Cicero Invect. Sall. 6.18; Dio Chrysostom Or. 1.13; 3.53; 4.126; 8.8; 32.28, 91; 33.23, 55; 34.19; Fronto Nep. Am. 2.8; Lucian Posts 4; Charon 11, 15; Tim. 28; Nigr. 17; Maximus of Tyre 5.7; 36.2.
166. E.g., Aune, Dictionary of Rhetoric, 337. Nicknames were also common, e.g., Philostratus Hrk. 14.4.
167. E.g., Philostratus Vit. Apoll. 5.43 (though this is a later fiction).
168. See, e.g., Anderson, Glossary, 18; Rhet. Her. 4.23.33; for examples, Dio Chrysostom Or. 47.12-20. Socrates questioned and cross-examined people to get them to the truth (Maximus of Tyre Or. 10.8); questions could also characterize normal intellectual conversation between aristocrats (Polybius 31.23.9).
169. For fame as an honorable ambition (within limits), see, e.g., Xenophon Anab. 6.1.20-21; Dio Chrysostom Or. 31.20; (Ps.)-Dionysius Epideictic 7.291; Pliny Ep. 3.16.6; 4.19.5; 5.8.2; 9.3.1-2; Lucian Dialogues of Dead 449 (23/29, Ajax and Agamemnon 2); Fronto Ad Antoninum Pium 9.2; different sources in Keener, John, 885-86. For another example of Christian counterrhetoric besides the present text, see 1 Cor 1:17–2:16, despite the unusual abundance of rhetorical devices (see, e.g., Keener, Corinthians, 32-35, passim).
170. See, e.g., Philodemus Criticism passim. On its value, see, e.g., Dio Chrysostom Or. 8.5; for the pattern in Matt 18:15-17, cf. 1QS 5.25–6.1; CD 9.3-4.
171. E.g., Hermogenes Issues 40.20; 41.1-13; 83.19–88.2; for an example, Pliny Ep. 2.19.8.
172. Hermogenes Issues 60.13-14.
173. Besides the almost identical Jewish ones cited in the commentary, cf. Lucian Lucius or Ass 29 (a load almost too heavy for an elephant); Philostratus Vit. soph. 1.14.497 (“shaving a lion”).
174. E.g., Lucian Salaried Posts in Great Houses 34.
175. Valerius Maximus 8.3; Fronto Ad M. Caes. 3.20; one’s mother in Plutarch Cor. 34.1-2; Alex. 39.7; cf. Plutarch Alex. 12.3; 21.1-3. Such appeals were not always successful, however (Tacitus Ann. 16.10-11).
176. On which see Anderson, Glossary, 22; Rowe, “Style,” 143; Porter, “Paul and Letters,” 582.
177. As in Fronto Ad Verum Imp. 2.7.7; cf. Dio Chrysostom Or. 47.14. On the importance of asking boldly, see, e.g., Plutarch Alex. 39.3.
178. See Rollin Grams, “The Temple Conflict Scene: A Rhetorical Analysis of Matthew 21–23,” 41-65 in Persuasive Artistry.
179. Menander Rhetor 2.3, 381.7-10 (the rhetor speaking for the people), including flattery (such as the sun shining more brightly now that he has arrived, 381.16-17).
180. See Rolf Hurschmann, “Acclamatio,” 1:64-65 in Brill’s New Pauly (2001); Aune, Dictionary of Rhetoric, 1. Cf. partisan political acclamations in Dio Chrysostom Or. 40.26-27; also Welborn, Politics, 12-14; prayers for the emperor’s welfare in Menander Rhetor 2.1-2, 377.20-22. Cf. acclamations of Dionysus (Lucian Dion. 2, 4, 5); Artemis (Acts 19:28, 34; Xenophon Eph. 1.11.5), and (at marriages) Hymen (Catullus 61.4-5, 39-40, 49-50, 59-60, 117-18, 137-38, 142-43, 147-48, 152-53, 157-58, 162-63, 167-68, 172-73, 177-78, 182-83; 62.4-5, 10, 19, 25, 31, 38, 48, 66; Ovid Her. 12.143).
181. E.g., Aeschylus Seven Ag. Thebes 70, 656, 695-97, 709; Libation-Bearers 912; Life of Aesop 133, 142.
182. See Dio Chrysostom Or. 27.5-6. Others also taught in temples, which were public places (Philostratus Vit. Apoll. 4.2).
183. See, e.g., deSilva, Honor, 29–31.
184. E.g., Lucian Dem. 44; Josephus Ag. Ap. 2.3, 85; Ant. 13.292, 293-95; Diogenes Laertius 6.2.41; for mockery, see Anderson, Glossary, 126. In ancient Israel and Jesus’ ministry, see also Pilch, “Insult”; Keener, “Brood of Vipers.”
185. E.g., Aulus Gellius 1.2.13; 18.13.7-8; b. B.B. 115b. Rejoinders could be harsh, but often could make hearers laugh (Plutarch Dem. 11.4); occasionally even the butt of a joke might smile (as in Xenophon Cyrop. 2.2.16, though this is fiction).
186. E.g., Philostratus Hrk. 33.8-9.
187. E.g., Dio Chrysostom Or. 47.13. The rhetorical invitation was also appropriate in other genres, such as diatribe (e.g., Musonius Rufus 14, p. 92.17).
188. For “traps” in logic, see, e.g., the “horn dilemma” (mentioned in Fronto Eloquence 1.14). Some speakers liked to be asked questions (e.g., Eunapius Lives 460; cf. Aulus Gellius 1.26.2), and students could use them to learn (e.g., Seneca Ep. Lucil. 108.3; Musonius Rufus 3, p. 38.25-26; Plutarch Lectures 11, Mor. 43BC; Aulus Gellius 12.5.4; t. Sanh. 7:10), but questions and interruptions were often intended to test, refute, or embarrass speakers (e.g., Plutarch Lectures 4, Mor. 39CD; 18, Mor. 48AB; Aulus Gellius 8.10; 16.6.4-12; 18.13.7-8; 20.10.1-6; Lucian Demonax 14; Philostratus Vit. soph. 2.30.623).
189. Pliny Ep. 1.5.5.
190. Socrates and others often asked questions with obvious answers as if conundrums (e.g., Xenophon Mem. 2.9.8). On rhetorical questions, see, e.g., comment on 7:3-4 above.
191. People often invited as many guests as possible (one satirical invitation includes a dog, Alciphron Farmers 15, 3.18), even the entire town (Menander Rhetor 2.6, 404.17). Thus banquets proved quite expensive (Seneca Ep. Lucil. 95.41), and one might need an entire ox to feed an ordinary wedding feast (Athenaeus Deipn. 9.377AB).
192. Callimachus Hymn 6 [to Demeter], 72-73; Cicero Fam. 16.9.3.
193. Xenophon Symp. 1.7.
194. E.g., Pliny Ep. 1.15.1-4 (but playfully, to a social peer). On invitations for normal banquets, see Dennis E. Smith, From Symposium to Eucharist: The Banquet in the Early Christian World (Minneapolis: Augsburg Fortress, 2003), 22-23.
195. As in Lucian True Story 1.36 (tax collectors); cf. 1 Sam 25:10-13; 2 Sam 10:4. Vengeance might be needed to recoup lost honor (cf., e.g., Polybius 1.86.4, 6), sometimes leading even to a city’s destruction, as in 22:7 (Apollodorus Bib. 1.9.7; cf. burning villas in Plutarch Cic. 33.1).
196. For silence in response to a compelling argument, Xenophon Hell. 6.3.10; Cyr. 5.5.21; Demosthenes Cor. 112; Plutarch Cic. 12.5; Aulus Gellius 1.2.13; Lucian Phil. Sale 22; Chariton Chaer. 8.2.12; Eunapius Lives 497-98; Ab. R. Nat. 6 A; in response to being shamed, Arrian Alex. 7.8.3; 7.11.2; Neh 5:8; Josephus Life 298-99; Tg. Ps.-Jon. on Deut 28:15.
197. Heath, “Invention,” 93-94. Philosophic sects’ polemic against other philosophic sects was so common it became stereotyped in form (Abraham J. Malherbe, Moral Exhortation: A Greco-Roman Sourcebook [LEC 4; Philadelphia: Westminster, 1986], 12).
198. See Anderson, Glossary, 126.
199. Pliny Ep. 6.5.4 (an eyewitness account); a particularly raucous occasion in Pliny Ep. 3.20.3-4; earlier in history, Diodorus Siculus 40.5a.1. The Sanhedrin could also degenerate into hot conflict, sometimes exceeding even simply verbal conflict (Josephus Ant. 20.180, 213, rendering suspect some “decorum” objections to the portrayal in Acts 23:10).
200. Plutarch Caesar 60.3; Suetonius Julius 78.1; cf. Philostratus Hrk. 35.4. Later rabbis made an exception for prayer, which should not be interrupted even to greet a king (Ex. Rab. 9:3). For particular honorable seats (as in 23:6), see, e.g., Josephus Ant. 20.60; Dio Chrysostom Or. 31.29; Plutarch Cicero 13.2. On rising for elders, see Valerius Maximus 4.5. ext. 2 (to offer a seat); Aelius Aristides Defense of Orat. 380, §§126D-127D; t. Meg. 3:24; p. Bik, 3:3, §§4-5; on dismounting before one of higher rank, Valerius Maximus 8.5.6. Even Greek sages wore a special garb (cf. 23:5; see comment at 10:10).
201. Seneca Dial. 2.13.3; Apollonius King of Tyre 8. In Babylonia, the lesser might not greet the greater (p. Sheq. 2:5).
202. Josephus War 2.319. People sought greetings as a way of affirming their honor (Polybius 31.29.8). With Matt 23:8, cf. Dio Chrysostom Or. 4.14, 38; 35.10.
203. See Rhet. Alex. 26, 1435b.25-39; Rowe, “Style,” 142; Michael R. Cosby, “Paul’s Persuasive Language in Romans 5,” 209-26 in Persuasive Artistry, 216-17 (citing Aristotle Rhet. 3.9.7-8; Quintilian Inst. 9.3.81); D. M. MacDowell, “Introduction,” 9-19 to Gorgias Hel. (Bristol: Bristol Classical Press, 1982), 18-19. Note especially reasoning by contraries in Rhet. Her. 4.18.25.
204. Even the specific idea appears occasionally; see Xenophon Anab. 6.3.18; cf. Seneca Ep. Lucil. 94.73-74; Josephus Ant. 19.296. This statement is the closest to a “proposition” in the chapter, but even Matt 23, with its polemical character, does not fit the form of a forensic speech (23:37-39 intensifies pathos, but there are no proofs; one might identify 23:2-7 or surrounding verses as a narratio, but only if compelled to find one).
205. See, e.g., Ps 18:27; Is 2:11-12, 17; 5:15; 13:11; Ezek 21:26; Dan 4:37; antithesis more generally characterizes much Jewish wisdom, e.g., in Proverbs.
206. Hermogenes Issues 87.2-9.
207. E.g., Suetonius Vergil 18.
208. Lucian Fly 12 (“making an elephant of a fly”).
209. E.g., Aeschines Tim. 185; Dionysius of Halicarnassus Isocr. 17; Philostratus Vit. soph. 1.25.544. Many believed in suffering for ancestral guilt (e.g., Valerius Maximus 1.1. ext. 3), though it went too far if the descendants no longer acted like their ancestors (Quintus Curtius 7.5.28-35).
210. See, e.g., Rhet. Alex. 21, 1434a.17-32; Rowe, “Style,” 128-29 (citing Demosthenes Andr. 22.32; Cicero Cat. 1.1.2); Strabo 10.4.17; see in more detail Paul D. Duke, Irony in the Fourth Gospel (Atlanta: John Knox, 1985), 8-12; Anderson, Glossary, 39, 108. For examples in debate, see Plato Soph. passim; Dio Chrysostom Or. 31.9-10; Plutarch Stories and Poets 4, Mor. 1058c; Apuleius Metam. 3.4-6; Tertullian Apol. 40.2; forensic speech in Cicero Verr. 2.5.10.25.
211. E.g., Cicero Verr. 2.2.31.76; Silius Italicus 11.254-55; Rev 22:11. Cf. permissio or epitrope in Rowe, “Style,” 147, where the speaker dares detractors to act.
212. E.g., Cicero Cat. 3.8.18-19; 4Q162 cols. 1-2; 4 Ezra 5:8; 6:21; before Jerusalem’s fall, see Tacitus Hist. 5.13.
213. See commentary. Matt 24:8 may remove the hyperbaton in Mk 13:8d.
214. E.g., Tacitus Hist. 4.12, 34, 38, 54.
215. Black, “Oration,” 86; cf. Porter, “Paul and Letters,” 580.
216. See Rowe, “Style,” 129-30.
217. Cf. Aeschines Ctes. 157.
218. Rowe, “Style,” 147; Black, “Oration,” 87. It also suggests here an eschatological riddle (on these see Anderson, Glossary, 13).
219. In courts, e.g., Isaeus Pyrrhus 37-38; more generally, Cicero Fam. 7.1.3. For readings at banquets, see, e.g., Pliny Ep. 9.17.3.
220. Cf. Dionysius of Halicarnassus Thuc. 19; Thucydides 2.94.1; 8.96.1; Cicero Verr. 2.5.72.189; Philostratus Hrk. 24.2; cf. “never again” in Silius Italicus 9.183; Thucydides on the “greatest” war in Thucydides 1.1.1-2; 1.21.2; 1.23.1-2.
221. Black, “Oration,” 86; Rowe, “Style,” 131; Lee, “Translations,” 779.
222. Duane F. Watson, “Paul’s Speech to the Ephesian Elders (Acts 20.17-38): Epideictic Rhetoric of Farewell,” 184-208 in Persuasive Artistry, 202.
223. Catullus 61.79-81, 96, 106, 113; 62.6.
224. Menander Rhetor 2.7, 410.19-25; Xenophon Eph. 3.6.
225. In addition to the commentary, Aeschylus frg. 275.831-32; Ovid Fasti 2.558, 561; Ex Ponto 3.2.55; Tristia 4.5.33; Her. 2.120; 4.123; 6.42; 11.101; 12.137-38; 14.10; Valerius Maximus 7.1.1; Catullus 61.15, 77-78, 94-95, 114; 64.25, 302; 66.79; Seneca Med. 37-38; Statius Thebaid 2.259; Silvae 3.4.53-54; 4.8.59-60; Tacitus Ann. 15.37; Maximus of Tyre Or. 9.6; Menander Rhetor 2.6, 404.23-24; 2.7, 409.10; Xenophon Eph. 1.2, 8, 10; Alciphron Fisherman 22 (Thalasserôs to Euploüs), 1.19, ¶1. On torches, see R. J. Forbes, Studies in Ancient Technology (9 vols.; Leiden: E. J. Brill, 1955-1964, here 1958), 6:125-31.
226. Menander Rhetor 2.6, 399.11–405.13 (offering a pagan form talking of gods, but Jewish exhortations likely existed analogously). These would probably be most important on the first night of the feast.
227. On this figure, see Rowe, “Style,” 129-30. One could repeat names for endearment (e.g., Cicero Quint. fratr. 1.3.1) or rhetorical pathos (Demetrius Eloc. 5.267; cf. 2 Sam 18:33; 19:4). Cf. here Matt 7:22. For “I do not know you” as a repudiation formula, see, e.g., b. M.K. 16a; 1 Sam 25:11; also the commentary, pp. 254, 598, 654-55. In Greek texts, cf. Lucian Dead Come to Life/Fishermen 50-51.
228. Greek texts also offer some depictions of future judgment (e.g., Lucian Menippus/Descent into Hades 11), but Jewish texts offer closer parallels and ideology (e.g., 1 En. 90:20). Cf. also Egyptian eschatological texts (John J. Collins, “Eschatologies of Late Antiquity,” 330-37 in Dictionary of Background, 334).
229. E.g., Pliny Ep. 3.16.6; 4.12.7; Fronto Ad Verum Imp. 2.1.2; an Egyptian work in Frankfurter, Religion in Egypt, 238; earlier, Azituwadda of Adana (ANET 1955, 500); Kilamuwa of Y’dysam’al (ANET, 501); an ancient Egyptian claim in P. Chester Beatty 4 (William Kelly Simpson, The Literature of Ancient Egypt: An Anthology of Stories, Instructions, Stelae, Autobiographies, and Poetry [3rd ed.; New Haven: Yale University Press, 2003], 1).
230. Vitruvius Architecture 6.pref.5; Statius Thebaid 12.810-19; Pliny the Elder N.H. pref. 25; Pliny the Younger Ep. 2.10.2, 4; 3.7.14-15; 5.8.1-2; 6.16.1; 7.33.1.
231. Pliny Ep. 7.20.2; cf. Pliny Ep. 6.10.3.
232. Aeschylus Prometheus Bound 747–51; Lysias Or. 10.25, §118; Aeschines Tim. 55; 1 Cor 9:15.
233. Aeschylus frg. 229 (LCL 2:502, from Stobaeus Anth. 4.53.17); Cicero Att. 11.9, last paragraph; Seneca Nat. Q. 1.pref. 4; cf. Lysias Or. 2.81, §198. These are in addition to the texts (pagan, biblical, and early Jewish) already cited in the commentary.
234. Rowe, “Style,” 128; for a Pauline example, see Porter, “Paul and Letters,” 579.
235. E.g., Apollodorus Bib. 3.16.1; Epitome 1.2-3; Seneca Hercules 735-36; Lucian Phalaris 1.12; Ps.-Callisthenes Alex. 1.19 (a proverb); 2 Macc 9:5-6; in later rabbis, see Elaine A. Phillips, “The Tilted Balance: Early Rabbinic Perceptions of God’s Justice,” BBR 14 (2, 2004): 223-40; e.g., b. Git. 56b-57a; here, Tg. Is 50:11 in Bruce Chilton, “Targum, Jesus, and the Gospels,” 238-55 in Historical Jesus in Context, 246.
236. Hermogenes Issues 45.5-10.
237. One could accuse the opposition of acting unethically (Rhet. Alex. 15, 1432a.3-4, 8-9).
238. Suetonius Rhetoricians 4. For a conviction proceeding despite lack of evidence from the accusers and testimony inconsistent with the facts, see, e.g., Plutarch Alc. 20.5. Nevertheless, most societies officially required harsh penalties for false witnesses (e.g., Diodorus Siculus 1.77.2; Robinson, Criminal Law, 37).
239. Aeschines Embassy 44, 56.
240. See, e.g., Cicero Brutus 37.141; 43.158; Orator 17.55; Rosc. Amer. 32.89; Pliny Ep. 2.19. 2-4; Philostratus Vit. soph. 1.25.537-38, 541-42; John Hall, “Cicero and Quintilian on the Oratorical Use of Hand Gestures,” Classical Quarterly 54 (1, 2004): 143-60 (noting Quintilian Inst. 11.3); William David Shiell, Reading Acts: The Lector and the Early Christian Audience (Boston, Leiden: Brill Academic, 2004), passim.
241. E.g., Xenophon Cyrop. 3.1.13; 5.1.6; Quintus Curtius 10.5.19; Suetonius Julius 33; Dio Chrysostom Or. 46.12; Plutarch Cicero 31.1; Lucian Fun. 12; Chariton Chaer. 1.3.4; 3.5.6; 3.10.3; 5.3.4; 7.1.5; Xenophon Eph. 1.4; 3.10; 5.5; Apollonius King of Tyre 25; Josephus War 2.316; Sipre Deut. 43.3.8; ARN 4, 25A; Tg. Ps.-Jon. on Num 20:29.
242. M. Sanh. 7:5; b. Sanh. 60a, bar.; cf. b. M.K. 25b-26a; p. M.K. 3:7, §§7-8; Sanh. 7:6, §7; Acts 14:14.
243. Plutarch Cicero 20.3; this could be done according to age (Aeschines Embassy 22, 25).
244. E.g., Lucian Icaromenippus, or Sky-Man 33. Angry crowds could sometimes drive a speaker from a platform by shouting and scorn (Aeschines Tim. 84), and interruptions and ridicule characterized real courts (Seneca Controv. 9.pref. 3-4); one might have to shout to ensure that the judge could hear (Seneca Controv. 9.pref.5). Proposals were sometimes shouted down even in the Roman Senate (Cicero Fam. 1.2.2), and a condemned person could be assaulted by bystanders (Suetonius Julius 17.2; cf. Acts 18:17).
245. E.g., Maximus of Tyre Or. 3.7; cf. Tacitus Ann. 15.60 (refusing to betray co-conspirators).
246. Epictetus complains about a friend who secured his conviction needlessly by accusing the court (Diatr. 2.2.17-18).
247. Contrast the prescription of Quintilian Inst. 4.2.113, citing Cicero Verr. 5.62. For discussions of pathos in ancient rhetoric (including in Paul), see the very helpful work Paul and Pathos (ed. Thomas H. Olbricht and Jerry L. Sumney; Society of Biblical Literature Symposium Series 16; Atlanta: Society of Biblical Literature, 2001).
248. Rhet. Alex. 22, 1434b.11-18; 36, 1443b.15-16; 37, 1445b.21-23; e.g., Aeschines Tim. 177 (before the final illustration, used for pathos); Isaeus Cleonymus 48; Gorgias Hel. 20 (cf. Hel. 21). One could also do this at various points in a speech (Rhet. Alex. 36, 1444b.21-35; e.g., Cicero Quinct. 19.60; 28.85–29.90), and expand speeches by including more recapitulation (Rhet. Alex. 20, 1433b.29– 1434a.17). See also Lucia Calboli Montefusco, “Epilogue,” 4:110 in Brill’s New Pauly (2004).
249. Dionysius of Halicarnassus Dem. 32; Thuc. 55; Aelius Aristides Fifth Leuctrian Oration 43-44.
250. E.g., Isaeus Pyrrhus 80; Dionysius of Halicarnassus Dem. 58; Dio Chrysostom Or. 13 (in 13.37); Or. 19 (at 19.5); Or. 34 (at 34.53); Or. 41 (at 41.14); Menander Rhetor 1.3, 367.8.
