Progymnasmata 4

Theon’s Progymnasmata contains several school exercises for young men in the Greco-Roman world to learn rhetoric. And, as David Gowler says, it would seem that the 1st century CE was not so much an oral verses a written world, but rather a rhetorical world.

One of these categories taught by Theon is narrative (διήγημα / διήγησις). Concerning narrative, Theon differentiates between narrative and history as follows:

Anyone telling a narrative is obliged to pay attention to the main thrust of the whole subject which he has set forth, emplying in the narrative only those matters which contribute to this subject. For example, in the case of Cylon: if someone writes a history (ἱστοπρίαν) about him, it is proper to mention who his ancentors were, who his father and mother were, and numerous other things: the contest in which he was contending in Olympia, whatever victories he achieved, and to name the Olympiads in which he won. But anyone telling a narrative (διήγημα) about him is justified in not being so detailed in such matters, just as Herodotus and Thucydides did when each set out to tell of the Cylonian curse.

I find this especially interesting in light of two things: (1) Luke mentions in Lk 1.1 that the other documents that he was aware of as διήγησις which is synonymous with διήγημα in Theon’s Progymnasmata, and (2) Mark is the only Synoptic Gospel to not mention the ancentoral lineage of Jesus. I am not yet ready to make any claims concerning the genre of Mark’s Gospel (or even the genres of the ancient world that might have influenced its composition); I’m merely working through the Progymnasmata and making observations. Though I will say that this observation in concert with several others would lead me to want to further consider rhetorical narrative (διήγημα / διήγησις) as a genre influence of the Gospel of Mark. Any thoughts?

Progymnasmata 3

Crack open any introduction to narrative criticism and the Gospels and they will give the same basic narrative critical categories. For example, Mark Allan Powell’s What is Narrative Criticism? gives the basic elements of modern narrative criticism: (1) story and discourse, (2) events, (3) characters, and (4) setting.

However, I have often wondered: just how much of this might be anachronistic? I.e., would ancient authors, readers, and hearers have thought about stories this way? Or might this be part of our modern culture?

Theon’s Progymnasmata contains a section of his rhetorical handbook on narrative (διἠγημα/διἠγησις). It this section, he spells out for us the elements of ancient narratives in the Greco-Roman world: (1) characters (which can be one or many), (2) the action done (τὸ πρἀγμα τὸ πραχθὲν) by the character, (3) the place in which the activity is done, (4) the time (ὁ χρόνος) during which the activity was done, (5) the manner of the activity, and (6) the reason for these things (ἡ τούτων αἱτία).

Theon elaborates on each of these elements as follows:

1. Character: race, gender, training, disposition, age, fortune, motive, action, speech, death, and the things after their death.
2. Action: important or unimportant, dangerous or not dangerous, possible or impossible, easy or difficult, necessary or not necessary, advantageous or disadvantageous, just or unjust (δίκαιον ἢ ἄδικον), honorable or dishonorable.
3. Time: holidays, seasons, whether an act takes place while the assembly (ἐκκλησίας) is in session, whether an act takes place during a festive procession or festival, whether during a wedding or entertainment of friends, whether during a time of public mourning, or some such situation of everyday life.
4. Place: size, distances from other places, whether a city or the countryside are adjacent, holy or profane, one’s own property or another’s, empty or inhabited, secure or vulnerable, level or mountainous, waterless or very wet, open or wooded.
5. Manner: intentionally or unintentionally. If unintentional, was it by ignorance, chance, or necessity? If intentional, was it by force, secretly, or with deceit?
6. Reason: for the sake of acquiring benefits or for the sake of removing evil, for the sake friendship, for the sake of a wife, for the sake of children, for the sake of emotions (love [ἔρωτα], hate, envy, pity, drunkenness, and passions similar to these).

While obvious overlap exists between narrative categories in Theon’s Progymnasmata and modern narrative critical categories, it would be interesting to explore how Theon’s narrative categories might tender different results in Gospel exegesis.

Progymnasmata 2

Theon’s Progymnasmata has different sections dealing with different types of ancient rhetoric and literary genres. One of those literary genres was narrative (διήγημα). Having had an interest in narrative criticism for many years, when I discovered this section of the Progymnasmata I was quite intrigued. For me, the question is: does the ancient literary genre of διήγημα have anything to do with the Gospels of the early Jesus movement.

Luke begins his Gospel with these words:

Επειδήπερ πολλοὶ ἐπεχείρησαν ἀνατάξασθαι διήγησιν περὶ τῶν πεπληροφορημένων ἐν ἡμῖν πραγμάτων, // Since many have undertaken to set down an orderly account of the events that have been fulfilled among us

Notice he used the word διήγησιν to describe what many other in the early Jesus movement had already written. While this word is different from Theon’s Progymnasmata, which has the word διήγημα, Hermogenes’ Progymnasmata used both of these words to refer to narrative. James Butts (The Progymnasmata of Theon, 361) notes,

“[t]he distinction between [διήγημα] and [διήγησις] which Hermogenes (Prog. 4,9–15) introduced into the rhetorical tradition is not evident in T’s use of the two terms, for he apparently used them synonymously”

Is it possible that Luke is referring to the ancient rhetorical genre of narration here? Does he believe that the earliest Gospels of the Jesus movement were molded after (or at least could be broadly classified as) the ancient literary technique of narration?

By definition, this hypothesis must at least be held at tenable. Theon defined narrative as follows:

A narrative (διήγημα) is an explanatory ‘logos’ of events (πραγμάτων) which have happened or as if they have happened.

Notice this definition contains two of the same words as Luke’s opening sentence: διήγημα/διήγησιν and πραγμάτων. Further, Luke 1.2 contains the phrase γενόμενοι τοῦ λὀγου. Theon defines διήγημα as having 6 elements: person, action, place, time, manner of action, and the cause of these things. The definition of the διήγημα along with its 6 elements do not preclude the Gospels of the earliest Jesus movement from consideration as the ancient rhetorical genre of narrative. This must especially be veracious considering high likelihood of Luke’s Greco-Roman education. Additionally, Theon stated thus concerning narrative: ‘Then one should narrate most concisely whatever is likely to distress the audience, as Homer did: “Patroclus is dead”.’ This is important for two reasons: (1) it shows that the ancient διήγημα included more lengthy works, such as the works of Homer, and (2) this protocol of narrative syncs well with the Gospel writers treatment of the crucifixion of Jesus, cf. eg. Mark 15.24: καὶ σταυροῦσιν αὐτὸν. Lastly, Papias also used the word διήγησις in his description of the Gospels and their origins (cf. Pap. 3.14ff)

If one assumed or accepted this thesis, what significance would this bear on our reading of these ancient Gospel narratives? I.e. if the genre was not Gospel but rather a διήγημα about the good news of Jesus, how might we approach the text differently? Stay tuned, as this will be the subject of my next post.

Progymnasmata 1

To start, it might be wise to illustrate in what ways we might be seeing signs of the Progymnasmata in the New Testament. Papias (via Eusebius) relates the following concerning the creation of Mark’s Gospel:

And this is what the elder used to say, ‘When Mark was the interpreter (ἑρμηνευτὴς) of Peter, he wrote down accurately everything that he recalled (ἐμνημόνευσεν) of the Lord’s words and deeds—but not in order. For he neither heard the Lord nor accompanied him; but later, as I indicated, he accompanied Peter, who used to adapt his teachings for the needs at hand (ὅς πρὸς τὰς χρείας ἐποιεῖτο τὰς διδασκαλίας; or “who used to make the teachings to the chreiai“), not arranging, as it were, an orderly composition of the Lord’s sayings (λογίων). And so Mark did nothing wrong by writing some of the matters as he remembered them (ὡς ἀπεμνημόνευσεν) (Loeb, 25: 102–3; additional translation concerning the chreia mine).

Importantly, as Bryskog points out, much of this language shows striking similarities to the chreia in Theon’s Progymnasmata,, as well as Hermogenes (Samuel Byrskog, “The Early Church as a Narrative Fellowship: An Exploratory Study of the Performance of the Chreia” Tidsskrift for Teologi og Kirke. Vol 78, Nr 3–4. s. 212–215). For instance, Theon’s Progymnasmata spoke concerning the chreia:

A chreia (χρεία) is a concise statement or action which is attributed with aptness to some specified character or to something analogous to a character. Closely related to the chreia are maxim and reminiscence (ἀπομνημόνευμα). For every concise maxim, if it is attributed to a character, produces a chreia (ποιεῖ χρείαν). And the reminiscence (τὸ ἀπομνημόνευμα) is an action or saying that us useful for living (Butts, 186–7).

The same sort of language appears in the Progymnasmata of Hermogenes:

A chreia (χρεία) is a recollection (ἀπομνημόνευμα) of a saying or action or both, with a pointed meaning, usually for the sake of something useful (Kennedy, 76).

You’ll notice the description of the chreia has several overlapping features with many Gospel pericopae*: (1) saying or action or some combination of both, (2) pointed meaning, and (3) useful. With this in mind it is rather interesting that Papias used the words χρεία and ἀπομνημόνευω concerning the creation of Mark’s Gospel—especially considering it seems most likely that Mark’s Gospel is not in an accurate chronological historical order but rather an intentionally ordered and crafted series of pericopae designed to make theological and pastoral points. Bryskog’s aforementioned article does a fine job of beginning to show the similarities between Mark’s Gospel and the tendencies of the chreia. Seeing these similarities whet my academic appetite to explore this more—hence this blog series. In my next post, I will try to show the differences between constructing and analyzing ancient and modern narratives.

* I had originally stated: “the χρεία is essentially the same as what we would think of as a pericope”. However, this statement needs to be better nuanced. They are not identical, rather the characteristics of a chreia overlap to some degree with what we see in many New Testament pericopae (cf. eg. Luke 6.1–5; Matt 12.1–8 et al). Many thanks to polumeros for his helpful comment and correction.

NB–it also appears that Mark wrote the very first volume of the Hermeneia (ἑρμηνευτὴς) commentary series and [maybe] Peter was the editor … j/k

Progymnasmata

The first time I really interacted with a scholar on the Progymnasmata was with Dr. Abraham Smith over a cup of coffee at Starbucks. I have a deep love for narrative criticism, which Dr. Smith shares, and I asked if I could treat him to a cup to talk “narrative-critical-shop”. He was kind enough to oblige. We discussed an article that he wrote using the ancient literary technique synkrisis to analyze Mark 6.14–29. I was fascinated. That opened the rhetorical critical door for me. I loved the idea of analyzing the New Testament in light of ancient literary and rhetorical practices.

Next came an email dialogue with Prof. James Dunn leading to another dialogue with Prof. Samuel Bryskog. Bryskog showed me numerous parallels between Mark and the chreia. Again, I was fascinated. Reading an article by Dr. David B. Gowler on the use of the chreia in the search for the historical Jesus was also an important “aha” moment for me (David B. Gowler, “The Chreia” in The Historical Jesus in Context. eds. Amy-Jill Levine, Dale C. Allison Jr., and John Dominic Crossan [Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 2006] 132–148). He argued that “the Synoptic Gospels were not created/written in a ‘literary culture’ or an ‘oral culture.’ The Synoptic Gospels were instead created in a rhetorical environment where oral and written speech interacted closely with one another” (135).

Here’s the bottom line for me—the Gospels are literature. They must be read as such. However, wouldn’t it be better if we could analyze the text based on ancient rather than only modern literary and narrative criteria?

Enter the Progymnasmata. The Progymnasmata “were a standard part of the first-century CE educational curriculum, and would represent widespread educational practices from the early first century BCE” (Gowler, 134). They trained students in rhetoric, persuasion, and argumentation. And importantly, signs of rhetoric like that of the Progymnasmata can be seen throughout the New Testament.

So here’s the plan: I intend to start a series of blog posts on Theon’s Progymnasmata. My goal is to continue to learn. So I could use some help. If you are (1) an expert, please feel free to sharpen my understanding or correct my snafus. If you are (2) an fellow student interested in the Progymnasmata, please feel free to dialogue with me. Finally, if you are (3) none of the above, you can help by asking the question “why does this matter for New Testament studies?”

Paul and the Love of Money

I was reading in Theon’s Progymnasmata on the chreia (probably written 1st century CE; James R. Butts, The “Progymnasmata” of Theon: A New Text with Translation and Commentary, 2–6) yesterday and came across this:

Chreiai are expressed (1) in the manner of a maxim (γνωμολογικῶς), … For example: Bion the Sophist used to say that love of money (φιλαργυρίαν) is the metropolis (μητρόπολιν) of all evil.

It is important to note the large role the Progymnasmata played in the educational system of the ancient Greco-Roman world. This would have been a widely known maxim. Compare Bion the Sophist’s words with that of St. Paul in 1 Timothy 6.10:

For the love of money (φιλαργυρία) is the root (ῥίζα) of all evils

A Sunday School reading of 1 Tim 6.10 would likely think that St. Paul thought up a brand new maxim here—and a helpful one at that! However, a historical informed reading reveals that St. Paul was likely telling them a maxim that was already well-known to the culture. In essence, Paul was likely saying something akin to “Everybody in our culture knows that philarguria, the love of money, does not make people truly happy, It fact the love of money is like the root, the mother city, of all kinds of evil. Everybody knows this and so you should act in accordance with this principle.”

St. Paul’s advise: run after righteousness—be rich in good works, generous, and ready to share.