Attn: harmonizers

[Apollos]

we tend to see conjunctions as having chronological signification - he went here and he did this and he went there. The Greek conjunction is often just for punctuation, and so there is sometimes additional information to show if it is being used chronologically.

[kaufmannphillips]

kaufmannphillips wrote:
Shall I understand correctly, then, that you are arguing from genre? That is, the gospel as genre is not a historical composition; therefore it is not necessary for it to be historically accurate?

mattrose wrote:
The Gospels don't fit neatly into any 1 literary genre.

They contain an account of actual history (and so they can be called historical narrative)
They are crafted and shaped to fit the author's intention (and so are theological works)
They contain a multitude of sub-genres (apocalyptic, prophecy, discourse, proverbs, aphorisms, etc)

My query did not endorse the notion of gospel as genre. It was a maneuver of debate, which Steve has not yet responded to. Perhaps he anticipates where I might go, based upon his response.

Even so, one might consider the gospel as sui generis.

mattrose wrote:
Historians seem to be telling us that the 1st century world wasn't as interested in sequence/chronology as we are
For them, telling the story out of its actual order was not considered an 'inaccurate' telling of the story
* For the record, I find myself in rare disagreement with Steve on John, I think the author has simply re-ordered the event

(a) Many persons in antiquity had different sensibilities than many people do today. For what it is worth, we have Thucydides’ well-known discussion of historical method:

Having now given the result of my inquiries into early times, I grant that there will be a difficulty in believing every particular detail. The way that most men deal with traditions, even traditions of their own country, is to receive them all alike as they are delivered, without applying any critical test whatever. … There are many other unfounded ideas current among the rest of the Hellenes, even on matters of contemporary history, which have not been obscured by time. For instance, there is the notion that the Lacedaemonian kings have two votes each, the fact being that they have only one; and that there is a company of Pitane, there being simply no such thing. So little pains do the [common people] take in the investigation of truth, accepting readily the first story that comes to hand.

On the whole, however, the conclusions I have drawn from the proofs quoted may, I believe, safely be relied on. Assuredly they will not be disturbed either by the lays of a poet displaying the exaggeration of his craft, or by the compositions of the chroniclers that are attractive at truth's expense; the subjects they [engage] being out of the reach of evidence, and time having robbed most of them of historical value by enthroning them in the region of legend. Turning from these, we can rest satisfied with having proceeded upon the clearest data, and having arrived at conclusions as exact as can be expected in matters of such antiquity. To come to this war: despite the known disposition of the actors in a struggle to overrate its importance, and when it is over to return to their admiration of earlier events, yet an examination of the facts will show that it was much greater than the wars which preceded it.

With reference to the speeches in this history, some were delivered before the war began, others while it was going on; some I heard myself, others I got from various quarters; it was in all cases difficult to carry them word for word in one's memory, so my habit has been to make the speakers say what was in my opinion demanded of them by the various occasions, of course adhering as closely as possible to the general sense of what they really said.

And with reference to the narrative of events, far from permitting myself to derive it from the first source that came to hand, I did not even trust my own impressions, but it rests partly on what I saw myself, partly on what others saw for me, the accuracy of the report being always tried by the most severe and detailed tests possible. My conclusions have cost me some labor from the [lack] of [agreement] between accounts of the same occurrences by different eye-witnesses, arising sometimes from imperfect memory, sometimes from undue partiality for one side or the other.

The absence of romance in my history will, I fear, detract somewhat from its interest; but if it be judged useful by those inquirers who desire an exact knowledge of the past as an aid to the interpretation of the future, which in the course of human things must resemble if it does not reflect it, I shall be content. … I have written my work, not as an essay which is to win the applause of the moment, but as a possession for all time. …

[Regarding the Peloponnesian War, o]ld stories of occurrences handed down by tradition, but scantily confirmed by experience, suddenly ceased to be incredible; there were earthquakes of unparalleled extent and violence; eclipses of the sun occurred with a frequency unrecorded in previous history; there were great droughts in sundry places and consequent famines, and that most calamitous and awfully fatal visitation, the plague. [trans. Richard Crawley]

Granted, Thucydides writes ca. 400 years before the time of the gospels, but we have little reason to doubt that his comments are relevant to considering the character of the gospels. Even in our own time, his comments apply to a great extent:

(1) many people accept anecdotes credulously, without investigation or critical thinking;

(2) poets and chroniclers often massage material in order to make it more artfully pleasing (indeed, one might risk being boring if one were to be accurate);

(3) verbal speech is frequently recounted imprecisely – impressionistically, and/or with greater or lesser recourse to invention – and not verbatim;

(4) eyewitness testimony is not fully trustworthy, for sundry reasons; and

(5) even a desire to be careful does not mean that some error or imprecision will not slip through.

From Thucydides, we can garner that it was not impossible for persons in antiquity to attempt sensitive, careful historiography. We can also garner that many persons did not, in fact, do so.

(b) If, as you say, “the 1st century world wasn't as interested in sequence/chronology as we are ... For them, telling the story out of its actual order was not considered an 'inaccurate' telling of the story,” then we might identify the gospels as within a socially tolerable range of reliability for its time. But so what? Presumably, Thucydides could have gotten away with less accuracy in his work, but he chose to sacrifice artistic sensibilities out of a desire to produce a work that was a useful “possession for all time.” If the gospels are not merely documents of their time, but were produced by the Holy Spirit as a witness to all the ages, then should not the divine genius have been able to yield documents that were artistically effective and fully accurate?

Reasonable consideration of the gospels themselves suggests that they are not fully accurate, and that editorial and/or artistic license has played a part in their composition. This is not limited to the matter of chronology, but is also apparent from considering parallel accounts of Jesus’ teaching.

Let us consider parallel teachings in Matthew 9:14-17, Mark 2:18-22, and Luke 5:33-39. Here we have a fasting controversy and two parables – one about patching, and one about wineskins. All three gospels locate the three-part discourse in a parallel setting, following the call of Levi/Matthew and a dining controversy. But there appear to be signs of tinkering between the parallels.

(1) In the first segment – the fasting controversy – Mark asks if the bridal party can “fast,” while Matthew refines the query to “mourn.” For Mark, the argument from parallel is simple and direct (bridal “fast” for disciples’ “fast”), while Matthew brings out and articulates a matter of the heart. Luke has the same simple parallel as Mark, but injects another subtext: can you make the bridal party fast? In Luke, we find an additional issue of imposition and coercion.

So on one hand, it appears that Matthew has made a didactic refinement to Mark’s basic account. And on another hand, it appears that Luke has injected a sensitivity to imposed dietary piety, as would befit its quasi-Pauline background.

(Also, incidentally, both Matthew and Luke lack Mark’s explicit answer to the rhetorical question. A stylistic refinement, perhaps – and granted, of little concern.)

(2) In the second segment, we have the parable of patching a garment. On one hand, we find that Matthew lacks Mark’s clarifying statement, “the new from the old.” It appears that Matthew prefers to avoid putting the new and old at odds in such a pointed fashion (cf. Matthew 13:52, an anecdote unique to Matthew).

On another hand, Luke differs from Matthew and Mark in the very premise of the parable. For Luke, it is not simply a piece of new cloth being sewn upon an old garment – it is a new garment being mutilated, cut up in order to attempt a botched mend on an old garment. Luke’s treatment appears to be an embroidering of the tradition to dignify the status of the new (which is now a garment, and not merely a piece of cloth).

(3) In the third segment, Mark and Luke both explicate that the new wine bursts the old wineskins, while Matthew merely states that the old skins burst. It appears that this is a slight softening by Matthew, as above, so that the tension between new and old is not put in so pointed a fashion.

Matthew also adds the observation that both are preserved. Due to the ambiguous pronoun, which could be translated “both” or “all (of them),” this could telegraph that both the new and the old are preserved, as might befit a Matthean sensibility.

Luke adds a further snippet, stating that those who taste the old do not desire the new. A curious augmentation. Some have painted it as sarcastic. Luke says that having drunk the old, one says that it is xrestos. If there is a pun here with xristos (Christ), then is the upshot supposed to be that there is something like Christ to be found in the old, or is the upshot supposed to be that the old may be good, but it’s not quite “Christ”?

(c) I will discuss the significance of chronological accuracy and inaccuracy in a following post, responding to Apollos.

[steve]

Kaufmannphillips,

In your last post, you wrote:

My query did not endorse the notion of gospel as genre. It was a maneuver of debate, which Steve has not yet responded to. Perhaps he anticipates where I might go, based upon his response.

I guess I was not aware that there were remaining matters to which you were still awaiting a response from me.

You had previously written:

Am I to understand, then, that you feel Matthew is not strictly accurate in his narrative?

To which I replied:

Accurate in chronology? Probably not, unless he wished to relate a chronological account and failed to do so accurately. I have no reason to believe that the writers of the gospels—which no doubt functioned as much as sermons as they functioned as biographies—felt compelled to tell every story in its proper sequence any more than would any other preacher whose sermon is laced with miscellaneous biblical stories. For example, if a preacher used the story of David and Goliath, the story of the exodus, and the story of the crucifixion all in the same sermon, I would not think him obligated to use the stories in their proper sequence, unless he is representing his sermon as a chronological account. In general, however, the broad contours of the story are chronological in all the gospels.

I guess you do not consider this to be a response—or at least not an adequate one. I am not sure that I can do better, so you may have to be content with this one, or else reject it (I suspect that rejection would be your response, regardless what more I might write. It seems clear that your mind is quite made up).

You wrote:

If the gospels are not merely documents of their time, but were produced by the Holy Spirit as a witness to all the ages...

Perhaps this is where our communication is breaking down. Who, here, has made the above claim?

[kaufmannphillips]

steve wrote:
In your last post, you wrote:

My query did not endorse the notion of gospel as genre. It was a maneuver of debate, which Steve has not yet responded to. Perhaps he anticipates where I might go, based upon his response.

I guess I was not aware that there were remaining matters to which you were still awaiting a response from me.

You had previously written:

Am I to understand, then, that you feel Matthew is not strictly accurate in his narrative?

To which I replied:

Accurate in chronology? Probably not, unless he wished to relate a chronological account and failed to do so accurately. I have no reason to believe that the writers of the gospels—which no doubt functioned as much as sermons as they functioned as biographies—felt compelled to tell every story in its proper sequence any more than would any other preacher whose sermon is laced with miscellaneous biblical stories. For example, if a preacher used the story of David and Goliath, the story of the exodus, and the story of the crucifixion all in the same sermon, I would not think him obligated to use the stories in their proper sequence, unless he is representing his sermon as a chronological account. In general, however, the broad contours of the story are chronological in all the gospels.

I guess you do not consider this to be a response—or at least not an adequate one. I am not sure that I can do better, so you may have to be content with this one, or else reject it (I suspect that rejection would be your response, regardless what more I might write. It seems clear that your mind is quite made up).

I asked the subsequent questions:

"Steve (not 7150) -

Shall I understand correctly, then, that you are arguing from genre? That is, the gospel as genre is not a historical composition; therefore it is not necessary for it to be historically accurate?"

Perhaps you missed it. I acknowledge that you are busy.

steve wrote:
You wrote:

If the gospels are not merely documents of their time, but were produced by the Holy Spirit as a witness to all the ages...

Perhaps this is where our communication is breaking down. Who, here, has made the above claim?

Are there many persons on this forum who would claim that the gospels are merely documents of their time? Or who would claim that they were not produced by the Holy Spirit as a witness to all the ages?

If such persons are active on this forum, then here is an opportunity for them to articulate their perspective(s).

[steve]

Kaufmannphillips,

Sorry, I must have overlooked your question, which was: "Shall I understand correctly, then, that you are arguing from genre? That is, the gospel as genre is not a historical composition; therefore it is not necessary for it to be historically accurate?"

My answer would be that Gospels do exist as a distinctive genre, which means that they would only be expected to conform to the canons of accuracy applicable to that genre. It seems obvious that a precise chronological arrangement was not one of the expectations imposed upon such writings—nor can I imagine why anyone should demand that it should be, since, as a collection of anecdotes, chronology is generally extremely peripheral to the interests of the document. This does not mean that those who wrote such documents were permitted to misrepresent the events or teachings that they reported to have occurred. Accuracy on that score would understandably be expected on the part of those bearing witness to important events.

You wrote:

Are there many persons on this forum who would claim that the gospels are merely documents of their time? Or who would claim that they were not produced by the Holy Spirit as a witness to all the ages?

If such persons are active on this forum, then here is an opportunity for them to articulate their perspective(s).

I can speak only for myself, but I have no interest in claiming for the Gospels any supernatural origins that the authors do not claim for themselves. To do so would be to elevate mere church tradition to the status of doctrine. If I wished to follow such a policy, I might as well become Roman Catholic.

Were they intended to be a witness to all ages? I am sure that they were, insofar as the authors had any awareness that there would be "ages" after their own generation.

On the question of whether they were "merely documents of their time," the term "merely" is ambiguous, and somewhat pregnant. I would say that, as literary documents, they were,no doubt, typical specimens of the literary genre of which they are examples. There is no warrant to demean their value by stressing the word "merely," since they were exceptional documents for their time, or for any time, in that they recorded a unique season of God's visitation to His people, which brought about a world-changing revolution—the one-time establishment of the Kingdom of God. There are no other documents of their time that bear so great significance as these writings, so that use of the word "mere" would seem to be inappropriately condescending.

[kaufmannphillips]

kaufmannphillips wrote:
In Mark 11, Jesus makes the triumphal entry into Jerusalem. On the following day, he curses the fig tree, and his disciples hear it. Then Jesus clears the temple. On the third day, they see the fig tree withered away. Peter remarks on this, and Jesus teaches a lesson on faith.

In Matthew 21, Jesus clears the temple on the same day as the triumphal entry. On the second day, he curses the fig tree, which withers promptly. The disciples remark on this prompt result, and Jesus teaches rather the same lesson on faith.

Apollos wrote:
Matthew doesn't actually say that Jesus cleared the temple on the same day. He reports the triumphal entry and then speaks about when Jesus entered Jerusalem, but they aren't related with a strict chronology. He cursed the fig tree the next day, then he once again goes into Jerusalem (the trip Matthew picks up on).

I will acknowledge that Matthew does not explicate that clearing the temple takes place on the same day as the entry. The flow of the narrative is suggestive of it, not only because of the subsequent reference to Jesus leaving the city and lodging elsewhere (v. 17), but because we have the cries of “Hosanna” in the temple (v.15), paralleling the cries at the triumphal entry. Of course, the children could have been reiterating cries from the day before; but the simple flow of the narrative suggests a more immediate continuation of the fervor of the entry.

Regardless of what the grammar might afford, the chiastic structure of the passage clearly indicates that this is to be taken as a single unit. (As you may be aware, chiastic structure was very popular in ancient literature; and it is evident on numerous occasions within the bible. The chiastic form is a reflexive parallel: e.g., ABCB’A’ – where the first part A parallels the last part A’, the second part B parallels the fourth part B’, and the middle part stands as the center - thematically or structurally - of the construct.)

In this passage, the chiasm is as follows:

A: Jesus approaches the city from Bethphage.
B: The multitude is welcoming toward Jesus; Jesus is acclaimed with cries of “Hosanna”; Jesus is acclaimed as coming in the name of the LORD.
C: Jesus clears the temple.
B’: Jesus does signs befitting the one who is coming (cf. 11:2-5); Jesus is acclaimed with cries of “Hosanna”; the chief priests and scribes are displeased about Jesus.
A’: Jesus leaves the city toward Bethany.

If there were, historically, an intervening night out of the city, one can see here that its omission tidies up the narrative structure that ties Matthew’s vignette up so neatly. And in the absence of other evidence, the tidy vignette appears to be one exciting day. Such is the casualty (pun intended) of narrative artistry.

But there is more at play here. Let us consider Mark’s version, and its own chiasm:

A: Jesus’ doings (re: the colt) are challenged, then acceded to; the multitude acknowledges his authority; Jesus enters the temple.
B: Jesus curses the fig tree.
C: Jesus clears the temple.
B’: The cursing of the fig tree is revisited.
A’: Jesus enters the temple; the chief priests, scribes, and elders challenge Jesus’ doings and question his authority.

Now, Mark manages to attain this narrative structure without sacrificing an ongoing chronology. But beyond this, Mark’s narrative weaves the episode of the fig tree into the construct, whereas Matthew does not. Why so?

If we are to take the conventional stance that Matthew is derivative from Mark, then our question becomes, why does Matthew extract the episode of the fig tree from the chiastic structure?

Apparently, the purpose would be to yield another, broader reflexive frame. Matthew injects an additional parable into the mix, not found in the parallel development of Mark; this parable compares two sons, one who speaks well but does ill, and another who speaks ill but does well. Matthew then draws the parallel between the religious leaders on one hand, and the harlots and tax-collectors on the other. So the broader reflexive form yields:

A: The entry vignette, where lesser folk (commonfolk and children) are juxtaposed against the religious leadership.
B: The fig tree episode.
A’: A verbal controversy, where lesser folk (harlots and tax-collectors) are juxtaposed against the religious leadership.

In Matthew, the fig tree episode is now at the center of a chiasm.

So then again, the question is why?

Perhaps we may find the answer by looking at chiastic centers. In Mark, the chiastic center is the cleansing of the temple. The focal point is that - even in the midst of phenomenal acclaim and hostility - Jesus’ heart is for the purification of encounter with G-d. Because the religious leadership is an obstacle to this purpose, and has not yielded fitting fruit, Mark notes subsequently that they will be deprived of their role as husbandmen, and it will be given to others (12:9).

In Matthew, the chiastic center is the fig tree. As such, the focal interest is not purification of encounter with G-d, but devastation upon the fruitless. Matthew’s agenda here may be detected in other minor adjustments:

(1) In Mark, it is mentioned that it was not the time for figs. (A lesser crop of figs can be produced by trees at some point in the springtime, though it is sometimes lost to frost; the main crop is late summer or fall.) Such affords the implication that (for whatever reason) it was not the time for the religious leadership to bear fruit. Perhaps this is a comment on the general climate of the times, as not being conducive to bearing fruit. Or perhaps the upshot is that now is simply the time for a different crop (viz., Jesus’ time to bear fruit).

In any case, Matthew omits mention of this detail; as such, Matthew presents a sharper sense of shortfall on the part of the fruitless tree.

(2) While Mark notes subsequently that the role of the religious leadership as husbandmen will be given to others, Matthew notes that the kingdom of G-d will be given to a nation that bears fruit. This adds two significant elements to the picture. On one hand, it hammers again the shortfall of the fruitless. On another hand, it disenfranchises not only the particular members of the religious leadership, but the Jewish nation itself. Mark's version might afford an interpretation where other Jews/Levites emerged to be the new husbandmen. But Matthew affords a more sweeping consequence; a whole other people will be successors to the fruitless.

(3) While Mark opens the triumphal entry narrative with Jesus coming to Bethphage and Bethany, Matthew mentions only Bethphage. Thus, in Matthew's vignette, Jesus enters coming from the "house of figs (early or unripe ones?)" (the meaning of "Bethphage") and departs to either the "house of figs (other term)" or the "house of poverty/affliction" (possible meanings of "Bethany").

There are a number of possibilities for the play in imagery here. We might have a further dig at the unsuitability of the fruit in the former house, contrasted to the fruit in the latter house. We might have Jesus coming from a place of expectance for fruit, and winding up at a place impoverished of fruit. We might have Jesus coming from the former house (with an unfulfilled yield of fruit), and departing to the latter house (n.b., the church community is referred to as "the poor" in some early Christian sources). We might have an allusion to the affliction that will befall the fruitless community - the "house of (early or unripe?) figs" becoming the "house of affliction."

There are sundry possibilities, which may not exclude one another. But Matthew’s adjustment quite probably tethers to his focus on the fruitless fig tree.

(4) Matthew also make another significant omission, in comparison to Mark. Amongst the fig tree material, Mark includes instruction to forgive, should one have anything against somebody else. This suits Mark’s focal point – a purified encounter with G-d.

Matthew, though, omits this bit of instruction. Matthew is about emphasizing the devastation that will befall the fruitless. For Matthew, then, this is no time to be talking about forgiveness.

Now, then - why go to such effort to dissect the significance of Matthew's alternative arrangement of the material?

(1) To portray how a source may have conceptual purpose(s) behind their sequential arrangements; and

(2) to illustrate how sequential arrangement of elements can play a role in conveying significance to a narrative.

Accordingly, sequential arrangement can affect the significance of a passage; and the sequential arrangement can be chosen on purpose to do exactly that. Segue next:

Apollos wrote:
Now we tend to see conjunctions as having chronological signification - he went here and he did this and he went there. The Greek conjunction is often just for punctuation, and so there is sometimes additional information to show if it is being used chronologically. I think Matthew has the whole week of going backwards from Bethany to Jerusalem in mind, so that there is no strict chronology. It's not that the morning is after the events before, it is that Jesus was going to the city in the morning. We could almost say 'one morning Jesus was going out to the city, and he hungered', or perhaps 'Jesus was going to the city, it being morning time' or something of that nature. Then the response of the disciples - actually given the next day, is given in the same passage. Well that's my take on it anyway.
I often think these things should give us pause. If we only had Matthew's account, I would be the first to insist that it all happened at once, and that anyone for whatever reason suggesting otherwise clearly doesn't believe the Bible! It's humbling to think I would be totally wrong.

I will not disagree that use of conjunctions in this literature may afford a non-chronological interpretation. So this may resolve our harmonic problem to some extent; it would similarly resolve the problem – to some extent – at Luke 19:45. The result is a depiction that is technically exculpable, but which conveys a distorted sense of chronology – as you might acknowledge, given your genteel remark here.

Why does this matter? Is it so important whether the clearing of the temple happened on one day or the next? Or whether this event happened before that event?

It is important.

It is important because meaning is not simply derived from rudimentary expressions – from simple words, taken simply for themselves. Meaning is also derived from context. This is not only limited to background knowledge about historical details and cultural tropes; narrative arrangement also contributes to the context of ideas, playing a pivotal role in the way expressions will be construed and understood. If one were to juxtapose the same set of elements in varying narrative arrangements, one could yield a variety of meanings - including some that hinge entirely upon their particular narrative context.

What impression do we take from a narrative where Jesus enters Jerusalem with acclaim and clears the temple, even thereafter enjoying cries of acclamation? And what impression do we take from a narrative where Jesus enters with acclaim, looks around the temple, and leaves; only to return the next day and overturn things, and thereafter the people are in shock? And how will these impressions affect the meanings we derive from these accounts?

Context is fundamental to significance – and not only to significance conveyed to an audience, but also to inherent significance itself. The authentic meaning of an event and/or of spoken words is contingent upon the context in which they actually transpire. When a narrative distorts this context – whether inadvertently or for artistic reasons – it risks bastardizing the authentic significance of the event or words that it recounts.

[kaufmannphillips]

steve wrote:
My answer would be that Gospels do exist as a distinctive genre, which means that they would only be expected to conform to the canons of accuracy applicable to that genre. It seems obvious that a precise chronological arrangement was not one of the expectations imposed upon such writings—nor can I imagine why anyone should demand that it should be, since, as a collection of anecdotes, chronology is generally extremely peripheral to the interests of the document. This does not mean that those who wrote such documents were permitted to misrepresent the events or teachings that they reported to have occurred. Accuracy on that score would understandably be expected on the part of those bearing witness to important events.

(a) Could I prevail upon you to articulate the “canons of accuracy applicable to [gospels]”?

(b) You wrote, “as a collection of anecdotes, chronology is generally extremely peripheral to the interests of the document.” If we were referring to a document like the Gospel of Thomas – a mere florilegium of anecdotes – then perhaps we might allow such an assertion. But the canonical gospels attempt something more than mere collection of anecdotes. At face value, they appear to present linear narratives, from a historical beginning to a historical climax and release.

So it would not suffice to paint these documents as mere florilegia. Rather, they may be characterized as historical dramas. Like many Hollywood historical epics in our own time, some or all of these gospels are willing to indulge a measure of distortion in order to work their raw material into an artful presentation (ergo, a presentation which suits the aesthetic and thematic interests of the auteur). Does a scene need to be shuffled in the narrative order for effect? Is there advantage to revising the dialogue? Will glossing some details add focus to a scene? Sometimes artistic renderings will scramble a few eggs, remove a few yolks, and toss in some spices in order to yield the sort of omelettes they desire.

For persons who are interested in omelettes, this will suit them just fine. But for ornithologists or public health officials, this can be very frustrating. What in this omelette can be trusted to tell us about the rare Crested Ibis? Or which ingredient here is the vector for a recent outbreak of food poisoning?

(c) Now, you have written that “chronology is generally extremely peripheral to the interests of [a gospel],” but there is more to the picture than this. Close attention to parallels between the gospels will suggest that at least some of the writers are not simply careless toward chronology, but that they are willing to rework material for effect; what is more, this is not limited to chronology, but includes verbal material. (I have introduced sundry cases above in replies to mattrose and Apollos.)

You also have written, “[The peripheral concern of chronology] does not mean that those who wrote such documents were permitted to misrepresent the events or teachings that they reported to have occurred. Accuracy on that score would understandably be expected on the part of those bearing witness to important events.” But, as discussed above in a reply to Apollos, chronology yields context, and context yields meaning. If gospel writers take the liberty to alter context – particularly when doing so to engender narrative meaning – then they indicate their less-than-entire commitment to accuracy, and their willingness to misrepresent data. They also indicate their prevailing priorities – be they style, effect, and/or agenda. Such does not recommend them as witnesses who are worthy of full trust.

steve wrote:
I can speak only for myself, but I have no interest in claiming for the Gospels any supernatural origins that the authors do not claim for themselves. To do so would be to elevate mere church tradition to the status of doctrine. If I wished to follow such a policy, I might as well become Roman Catholic.

(a) What supernatural origins, then, would you deem properly attributable to the gospels?

(b) Ken might object that the Roman Catholic church is not the sole arbiter of church tradition. And of course, the matter of identifying “mere” church tradition is a stickier wicket than many imagine.

steve wrote:
Were they intended to be a witness to all ages? I am sure that they were, insofar as the authors had any awareness that there would be "ages" after their own generation.

Ah, but what of the divine intent? Or is that too supernatural a vector to be germane to the gospels’ origins?

steve wrote:
On the question of whether they were "merely documents of their time," the term "merely" is ambiguous, and somewhat pregnant. I would say that, as literary documents, they were,no doubt, typical specimens of the literary genre of which they are examples. There is no warrant to demean their value by stressing the word "merely," since they were exceptional documents for their time, or for any time, in that they recorded a unique season of God's visitation to His people, which brought about a world-changing revolution—the one-time establishment of the Kingdom of God. There are no other documents of their time that bear so great significance as these writings, so that use of the word "mere" would seem to be inappropriately condescending.

Regardless of how splendid these documents may have been in their own time, the question remains of how splendid they are in our time. Many ancient documents have had long, illustrious, and influential careers, yet eventually suffer in the light of progress. Are the gospels the sort of documents that constitute suitable witnesses for the present day? Or are they like other ancient literature – once suited to the (in)sensibilities of a past world, but now dependent upon the indulgence of a reader to look past their shortcomings?

[steve]

Kaufmannphillips,

I am not able to produce a thorough list of rules or canons of accuracy that are applicable to the gospel genre. This is not necessary in order to profit from them. That chronology was not a strict consideration is obvious from a simple comparison of the samples we have. The assumption made by most scholars that Mark was a common source for Matthew and Luke renders it virtually certain that the departures of Matthew and Luke from Marcan chronology were deliberate, since they would have to be familiar with Mark's chronology in order to use his gospel as a source.

Given their knowledge that they were modifying Mark's order of events, it would seem that only one of two possibilities must accrue: 1) they were deceptively misrepresenting the facts to serve some sinister ends, or 2) they were writing in a genre in which there was no expectation that they must tell every story in its proper order. The first option can be eliminated by the consideration that they could hardly expect to fool a readership who had access to Mark's Gospel, as they did, and that the changes in chronology cannot be shown to serve any sinister purpose.

Context can certainly determine the meaning of an ambiguous statement, as you have said. However, a pericope containing a saying of Jesus often contains its own sufficient context to allow for the intelligibility of a given statement. That the pericopes may be arranged artistically, rather than chronologically vis-a-vis each other is not necessarily relevant to contextual analysis of the sayings. The same saying (or very similar sayings) can often be found in different contexts—meaning either that they are not dependent upon their context for intelligibility, or that they embody a nuanced truth that applies to more than one set of circumstances.

I claim no supernatural origins for the gospels which they do not claim for themselves. Do they claim any supernatural origins for themselves? Not that I can find, other than their obvious claim that many of the events they record were supernatural events. The authors make no claim for themselves of divine inspiration in the production of their documents, so far as I can discern. Therefore, they would not necessarily be immune to the tendency to make such minor errors as responsible witnesses may sometimes make in writing history. That they are recording historical events is a claim that they do make, and one that I have no difficulty accepting.

You wrote:

Regardless of how splendid these documents may have been in their own time, the question remains of how splendid they are in our time. Many ancient documents have had long, illustrious, and influential careers, yet eventually suffer in the light of progress. Are the gospels the sort of documents that constitute suitable witnesses for the present day? Or are they like other ancient literature – once suited to the (in)sensibilities of a past world, but now dependent upon the indulgence of a reader to look past their shortcomings?

I am not so historically provincial as to think that scholars of the last 150 years were the first intelligent people to read the gospels and to notice that they recorded events in innovative arrangements. Modern scholarship is characteristically prudish on this score. They think they have discovered, by their more careful reading, such "flaws" in the gospels as 1,800 years of biblical scholarship could never quite discover. A little more humility might allow them to consider that they are not the first to see these "flaws," but rather that they are simply the first to call such features "flaws," because they are judging ancient historical documents by a modern standard which by no means commends itself as a necessary one to reasonable people.

[Jason]

Chronology aside, it seems like the language issue could prove important. According to some, Matthew had written his gospel in Hebrew and what we study is likely a Greek translation of the text. Likewise, if Jesus spoke/taught in his native Aramaic tongue (as with the witnesses interviewed) and these were all translated into the common Greek, you'd expect to see a lot of variance in periperal details. This would likely include variances in chronology. Since there are exact parallels in some passages among the Synoptics it would appear that those came from a common source, which was probably Greek since no further translating would have been needed.

An example of the "language issue" might be seen in an illustration. Let's say a murder took place in Mexico which was witnessed by three Americans, only one of which knew any Spanish. Likewise, one of the Americans had a limited vocabulary and another was a prized linguist. A few police officials wrote down their reports, translating the eye witness stories into Spanish for the Police Chief to look at. In this scenerio, it would be hard to believe that the Mexican reports would appear synoptic in detail.

This explanation would not be favored by someone holding the "Book that fell from Heaven" view, but most reasonable Christians know better.

[kaufmannphillips]

steve wrote:
My answer would be that Gospels do exist as a distinctive genre, which means that they would only be expected to conform to the canons of accuracy applicable to that genre.

kaufmannphillips wrote:
Could I prevail upon you to articulate the “canons of accuracy applicable to [gospels]”?

steve wrote:
I am not able to produce a thorough list of rules or canons of accuracy that are applicable to the gospel genre. This is not necessary in order to profit from them. That chronology was not a strict consideration is obvious from a simple comparison of the samples we have.

(a) Why are you “not able to produce a thorough list of rules or canons of accuracy that are applicable to the gospel genre”? Are you able to produce a less-than-thorough list?

(b) How are we to imagine that the parameters of this genre were established? Were there other gospels written prior to the four canonical ones, setting the precedents? Or were the parameters inherited from precedent in oral tradition? Or were the canonical gospels themselves the documents that established the genre?

steve wrote:
The assumption made by most scholars that Mark was a common source for Matthew and Luke renders it virtually certain that the departures of Matthew and Luke from Marcan chronology were deliberate, since they would have to be familiar with Mark's chronology in order to use his gospel as a source.

(a) For careful scholarship, it is not an assumption, but a hypothesis bolstered by deduction.

(b) Deliberate departure is also a recommendable hypothesis when there is a theological or artistic result.

steve wrote:
Context can certainly determine the meaning of an ambiguous statement, as you have said. However, a pericope containing a saying of Jesus often contains its own sufficient context to allow for the intelligibility of a given statement.

A pericope may afford an intelligibility to a statement, but without the statement’s actual context, how are we to know whether this intelligibility is authentic, or truncated, or coincidental, or manufactured?

A pericope can lose shades of meaning when wrested from its actual context. In a new placement, the pericope may not be so ambiguous as to be unintelligible to a reader. But in its impoverished setting, the intelligibility that it affords may not be accurate or authentic.

And the problem is not only that a dislocated pericope may be unintelligible or wrongly intelligible when deprived of its context. When relocated into another setting, a pericope can acquire new meaning based upon context extraneous to itself – a context which has been crafted by the writer/editor. And the intelligibility that this affords may not be accurate or authentic.

steve wrote:
That the pericopes may be arranged artistically, rather than chronologically vis-a-vis each other is not necessarily relevant to contextual analysis of the sayings.

Artistic rearrangement renders the question somewhat difficult to pursue, inasmuch as the pericopes are bereft of their original context. But we can deduce from artistic rearrangement that the writer/editor is willing to distort data for the sake of other interests.

This is not so unusual, for art very often involves distortions for the sake of communicating truth. And yet, a person who will do such a thing will also distort truth for the sake of communicating untruth, if they believe the untruth to be truth.

In any case, the distortion is untruth. One may consider the untruth involved in artistic rearrangement to be insignificant. But then again, a person who will excuse “insignificant” untruth will also excuse significant untruth – particularly if they desire for its significance to be insignificant.

steve wrote:
The same saying (or very similar sayings) can often be found in different contexts—meaning either that they are not dependent upon their context for intelligibility, or that they embody a nuanced truth that applies to more than one set of circumstances.

Or that they have been placed with disregard to context. Or that they have been placed with calculating regard to context.

When the arrangement of sayings appears to yield a theological or artistic result, then a calculating regard seems to be a reasonable hypothesis.

steve wrote:
I claim no supernatural origins for the gospels which they do not claim for themselves. Do they claim any supernatural origins for themselves? Not that I can find, other than their obvious claim that many of the events they record were supernatural events. The authors make no claim for themselves of divine inspiration in the production of their documents, so far as I can discern. {emphasis added}

The underlined statement seems to be a reasonable stance.

I wonder, then, at how this correlates to your perspective on other biblical documents. For instance, what do you claim for the book of Hebrews? Or for the book of Esther? Or for the book of James? Do any of these have a supernatural origin?

steve wrote:
Therefore, they would not necessarily be immune to the tendency to make such minor errors as responsible witnesses may sometimes make in writing history.

Accordingly, they would not necessarily be immune to other errors that even responsible historians are liable to make. They might give undue credence to one or more sources that seem credible, yet in fact are not trustworthy; alternately, they might erroneously withhold consideration for other sources. They might miss or overlook data that is germane to a fair understanding of their topic; then again, they might inject irrelevant data that skews perspective. They might craft a portrayal that emphasizes what is significant to them personally, but yields a selective and tendentious representation of their subject. Even responsible historians are not immune to such errors.

steve wrote:
That they are recording historical events is a claim that they do make, and one that I have no difficulty accepting.

But, of course, they are not merely recording historical events. They are also editing, arranging, scripting, and – most importantly – propagandizing.

steve wrote:
I am not so historically provincial as to think that scholars of the last 150 years were the first intelligent people to read the gospels and to notice that they recorded events in innovative arrangements. Modern scholarship is characteristically prudish on this score. They think they have discovered, by their more careful reading, such "flaws" in the gospels as 1,800 years of biblical scholarship could never quite discover. A little more humility might allow them to consider that they are not the first to see these "flaws," but rather that they are simply the first to call such features "flaws," because they are judging ancient historical documents by a modern standard which by no means commends itself as a necessary one to reasonable people.

(a) Literate scholars are aware that not every party in antiquity was oblivious to modern concerns. There are multiple reasons for scholars in our era posturing as if they have a new perspective. Sometimes it may be because it was a new thing to them in their personal experience, if they have come from a background that was not sensitive to such things. Sometimes it may be because it is a new thing to many in their audience, who themselves have come from such a background. Some of it may be a conventional posture – one common to human activities across the board in the wake of modernism and progressivism. And some of it may be crass marketing.

(b) As for being provincial and prudish...

On one hand, people who do not care deeply about a matter will commonly regard those who do care as prudish. Many Christians are prudish, for example, when Larry David splashes urine on a picture of Jesus. They do not consider David’s comedic activity to justify what is offensive to their sensibilities. But many non-Christians will shake their heads at such indignation, and call these Christians prudes.

Accordingly, if some ancient audiences – and some modern ones – are inclined to view modern historical sensibilities as prudish, we may imagine that they themselves do not care deeply about the principles and values of modern historiography. Such carelessness is by no means uncommon, in ancient times or in modern times. But this is scarcely a justification for a modern historian to abandon his principles, which undergird the responsibilities of his profession.

Which leads us to being provincial. Modern historians have every right to be provincial about what is legitimately their province – viz., historiography. To gloss over the failings of ancient documents in this province is no more reasonable than to gloss over the failings in ancient medical treatises or ancient geographies. Sloppy historiography is sloppy historiography, regardless of its milieu.

But then again, your maneuver has been to excuse the gospels from historiographic values by appealing to genre. Gospels, as you would have it, are rather a matter of homiletic, making sermonic use of anecdotal material. Accordingly, they are not beholden to historiographic values.

If we are to adopt this posture, then we may at least engage the gospels according to the province of their genre: artistic, rhetorical, homiletical ad copy. And if we wish to quarantine these texts from the province of historiography, then we should not be so unreasonable as to posture them as histories.