Mark A. Matson
Duke University
At the risk of over-simplification, there are two primary methods to interpreting the gospels. On the one hand, one can approach them from the standpoint of the author. From that perspective the analysis of the sources, the structure, and the authorial modifications give us an idea of what the author wanted to say -- might we even say an idea of his or her intention? On the other hand, one can approach this question from the standpoint of the reader. From this perspective, such approaches as reader-response or ideological readings are the primary methods of determining meaning, and the impression the text leaves upon the reader, or which the reader finds in the text, is the primary locus of meaning.
These two broad hermeneutical approaches appear to be significantly divergent methods to determining meaning. But, as they generally are applied to the gospels, they often share some fundamental assumptions which bring them closer together than might be at first acknowledged; assumptions which might, in fact, be false or misleading. The first assumption often shared by interpreters from various approaches is the naivete of the readers. That is to say, the gospel is assumed to be written to a group of readers who are previously unaware of the gospel story, at least in its current narrative form. The reader is expected to be receiving new information, a virgin story so to speak, that transmits new information or interacts with the reader's perceptions with little or no previous information about the story of Jesus to impede or interact with the gospel. And in this case, from the perspective of the author, the writer is packaging information about Jesus the he or she is sending forth to the readers - the meaning is wrapped up in the contents of the material, the "what" of the story. Or, likewise, the reader is seen as unwrapping the hidden package; and while each reader might approach the task slightly differently, the contents hidden in the package ultimately are the goal of the enterprise.
A corollary to this image of "new information" transmitted to a naive reader is the uni-vocal or directed-ness of the communication model. A gospel writer sends information off to the reader - the gospel is sent off on its journey from one location, and ultimately received in another; the rocket is launched from one place, and falls to earth in another. Granted, these metaphors conjure up rather extreme images of distant communication between a writer and reader. Surely this is different if the writer is writing to a more intimate and known group, perhaps his or her own community? And this is the normal perception - that the evangelists addressed the needs of particular communities, particularly ones they participated in. But even with this model, the communication model is uni-vocal if the reader is assumed to be naive - that is to say that community recipients are no more participating in the construction of the gospel message than a single recipient at a distance if they are primarily receiving new information. The gospel message in the community model might share a common social world, might anticipate certain needs, might reflect certain cultural mores, but it is still working from a model of transmission of information from an evangelist to a reader unaware of the story.
Moreover, this standard conception of the naive reader within a substantially local community of interpretation, of which the author is conceived to be a member, may itself distort the location of meaning in the gospels. If, in contrast, the gospels were widely circulated by design - that is they were intended to be and were in fact broadly published - then this would significantly affect the rhetorical purpose of the gospels. And especially for the later gospels, Luke and Matthew, it would significantly affect the way we might read them in light of the previous literary exposure to the previous gospels. Indeed, if the audience already know the gospels that an evangelist used as sources, then we should be conceiving the literary task as one of dialogue - both with the gospel sources, and with the audience.
In a recent book, The Gospels for All Christians, and particularly in the lead essay in that book, Richard Bauckham has called into question a major underpinning of the leading assumptions about interpreting the gospels. What Bauckham questions is the idea that the gospels were written to and for distinct communities. Rather than seeing Mark as directed to a group in Rome, and Matthew to a church in Syria, and Luke perhaps to a church in Caeserea,(1) Bauckham argues that the gospels were written for a universal audience, and were in fact distributed broadly at once. Without elaborating extensively on all of his paper, which I find intriguing and generally convincing, the following gives some idea of the main lines of argumentation:
The understanding that gospels were produced within communities and for that community's use became prevalent in 20th century scholarship, partly as a result of B. H. Streeter's formulation of the synoptic relationships. It certainly makes it easy to understand the existence of four distinct gospels which all tell the story of Jesus in different ways. From the vantage point of such an "intra-community writing," the special orientation of each gospel reflects the concerns and social realities of each community. The gospel material can then be read, as Bauckham points out, as allegories of the communities in which they were produced. Mark's apocalyptic material can be seen as a reflection of a community's urgency about the future in the difficult years preceding the destruction of Jerusalem.(2) Matthew's emphasis on the Pharisees can point to a tensive relationship with developing rabbinic Judaism, perhaps not too distant from Jamnia.(3) Luke's emphasis on rich and poor themes could suggest that concerns of divergent social status were being struggled with in the Lukan community.(4) Perhaps the most extensive development of the idea of the community orientation of a gospel is seen in the interpretation of the Fourth Gospel, especially under the influence of J. Louis Martyn's influential work. According to Martyn, the evangelist of the Fourth Gospel is reflecting his community's concerns about becoming distinct from the synagogue community from which it sprang, and from which it is being excluded.(5)
But while such readings are possible, as indeed the proliferation and ease of such interpretations suggest, aided in part by the increasing interest in social-scientific methodologies, they are by no means necessary and certainly not mandated by the text or by early testimonies about the gospels' production. The narrative interests of the gospels are not readily or obviously reflective of a single narrow community interest; indeed they may well point to an ideal world imagined by the author, built creatively on the basis of previous gospels or other source material.
One argument which could go a long way to supporting the idea that gospels were written in and for specific communities would be the success such a strategy has in understanding the gospels. But Bauckham argues that the perspective in which the gospels were written for specific communities nonetheless fails. This failure can be seen in two ways. The first is that a community model of writing is not necessary to explain the major features in the gospels. In other words, the idea that gospels were written to distinct communities does not ultimately explain much in the text. While this model has a function in directing the interpreter, it doesn't add significantly to the results. Even the most conspicuous case, that of Martyn's reading of John 9, that the institution of the birkhat ha minim into the synagogue liturgy caused a crisis for the Johannine community, fails to add significantly to the historical understanding of John. For indeed if the rabbinic council had mandated the addition of the birkhat ha minim in the liturgy, as suggested, its impact would have been widespread and not limited to a small narrow community. In other words, the specific concerns could be seen as widespread, not parochial in scope.
Moreover, this strategy of reading has produced diverse interpretations. While the idea of a community within which a gospel arose, and to which it is addressed, would seem to give some insight into the purpose of the gospels, the reality of scholarship using this approach suggests otherwise. As Dwight Peterson notes in his study of the use of the Markan community: "... this commitment to the interpretive determinativeness of the Marcan community does not work. ...virtually every scholar who discovers a Marcan community behind the Gospel - that is, the community for which the Gospel was written, and which is supposed to serve as a control for a reading of Mark - discovers a different Marcan community."(6)
Up until now, the main arguments proposed have been negative, poking holes in the local community model of gospel production. But there are a number of indications that the gospels were intended to be broadly distributed from the outset.
1. The genre of gospels suggests a broad audience. It is not directed to specific concerns, but seems to be deliberately open. Given the predominant oral culture of the time, writing often served as a substitute for the presence of the author. Certainly this is true for epistles, like Paul's, which substituted for the living voice of the one writing the letter. But it is likely true for the gospels as well. Why write a gospel down when the "living voice" can retell the story at any time? The very act of publishing a story, then, suggests some geographical distance, some separation between the voice and the hearer/reader. And the absence of clearly stated specific concerns suggests it was intended for more than just one community.
2. Bauckham notes that individuals in the early Christian communities, not to mention leaders such as Paul, Timothy, Barnabas and Peter, were very mobile. And this mobility would suggest that the early church was aware of the geographical spread of the early religion. Certainly the remarks in Acts and Paul's letters point to a number of itinerant members: Priscilla and Aquila, Phoebe, Epaenetus, Stephanas, Fortunatas - and many more, testify to a healthy movement of Christians to distant locations. With such traffic in people and ideas, it would not be surprising that the broad transmission (publication) of documents was not only accidental, but intended.
3. The early Christian movement saw itself as a world wide movement. The letters of Paul speak to a concern that cuts across regions. He takes up a collection from Macedonia for Jerusalem. He addresses Rome despite not having gone their yet. First Peter addresses a whole series of regions in Asia Minor. These documents do not suggest hermetically closed communities, but rather a flow of information, and of mutual concern, that was certainly very broad. Is it not likely that the gospel writers have conceived of precisely this kind of broad audience?
There is then, at the very least, a strong possibility that the gospels were not written for narrow consumption, but for broad distribution. And once some gospels were broadly distributed, or thought to be broadly distributed, subsequent gospels would have to account for their presence in the very Christian communities that would receive the "new editions."
Now if Bauckham is correct, and I want to simply hold that out today as a strong possibility without offering additional arguments in its favor, then the implications for the later synoptic gospels, and in particular Luke, are significant.(7) For in that case, Matthew and Luke can be reasonably seen to be offering up gospels to audiences that they might assume already know and perhaps use Mark. Let me reiterate this point just a bit more strongly. If we assume, with Bauckham, that Mark, the first written gospel, was intended for a broad audience and was published broadly, then Matthew and Luke would be publishing their own gospels to audiences that, at least a significant portion of which, have heard Mark already and perhaps use it as a regular part of the church's instruction and liturgy. Judging from the way the gospels became used by the early churches, we might even assume that where Mark was heard, it was read and re-read. In that case, the universal audience and broad publication would deny, at least for Matthew and Luke, the possibility of a naive audience. Instead, Matthew and Luke re-tell the story, using in large part the same material - often word for word - as the church already is using.
So what? Well, in the model most often applied to Luke or Matthew, which assumes no prior knowledge of written gospels, one avoids dealing with the question of how the author engaged and interacted with the audience by referring to a prior source.(8) But in the model just developed, Matthew and Luke would have to anticipate their audience knowing the gospel, and reacting to both the similarities and the differences. The communication model would then be dialogical, not uni-vocal. Thus the audience's anticipated reactions are part of the writing process - the author writes the text in dialogue with the audience.
In this case, the use of Mark becomes not simply a source, but an inter-text. Intertextuality works from the assumption that all utterances are social and already involve an ongoing dialogue of thoughts and ideas and perceptions into which the author joins. The dialogical nature of all discourse was noted by Mikhail Bakhtin:
The dialogical orientation is obviously a characteristic phenomenon of all discourse. It is the natural aim of all living discourse. Discourse comes upon the discourse of the other on all roads that lead to its object, and it cannot but enter into intense and lively interaction with it. Only the mythical and totally alone Adam, approaching a virgin and still unspoken world with the very first discourse, could really avoid altogether this mutual reorientation with respect to the discourse of the other, that occurs on the way to the object.(9)
In other words, when we utter thoughts, we join our thoughts with - indeed with think through the previous thoughts - of those who have gone before us. These previous discourses are echoed in major and minor ways in our choice of language, allusions, figures of speech.
While this is true generally of all discourse, it is even more valid in certain literary discourse, especially prose. Citation, reference and allusion are all part of the literary matrix, and point to an author's engagement with both prior texts and with an audience's perception of those texts. This dialogue with previous texts can take place in a wide variety of "degrees of presence" (to use Todorov's term) or "volume" (to use Richard Hays term): repetition, appropriation, modification, debate, parody, ellipsis. To the degree the audience shares in the prior dialogue the referenced texts, the author is indeed engaging in a rich and complex intertextual dialogue.
It is precisely this richness of the dialogical act, in which author and audience engage with the heteroglossia of well-known texts that, I am suggesting, best fits the character of Luke's gospel.
It is well known that Luke has drawn on Old Testament Scripture in multi-faceted ways in his gospel. In addition to direct citation, Luke evokes other texts (as for instance the Magnificat evokes Hannah's Song from 1 Samuel) - making allusions which are surely meant to engage the audience in comparison with the Scripture.(10)
And it is not by any means a new idea that New Testament authors were creatively re-writing prior gospels as an act of interpretation, as for instance Goulder's Midrash and Lection in Matthew, Franklin's Luke: Interpreter of Paul, Critic of Matthew. But these approaches are blunted if the audience is not engaged as an active participant. In Goulder's case, if Matthew's midrash on Mark is written as a dialogue with an audience that also knows Mark, then an entirely new dimension is added to the discussion.
What I propose, then, is a reading of Luke, in light of Bauckham's theory of gospel audience and distribution, which embraces the implications of Bakhtin's understanding of a text as dialogue.
At this point, it would be well to see whether this understanding of Luke's re-telling of the gospel story to an audience already familiar with at least one narrative, Mark's, gives us a new and helpful angle to approach the Third Gospel. What I propose is a series of samples, of test bores, to use a geologist metaphor, by which we might gain an initial assessment of the usefulness of my observations. The three areas I want to briefly explore are the prologue, the baptism of Jesus, and the call of the first disciples.
The introductory passages of Luke's gospel certainly indicate that the author intends his gospel to be read intertextually. Luke's reference to others who have already written narratives suggests that he understands his audience to already know that.(11) His writing, then, is an act of engagement with these other writings that he has "followed closely." And while his repetition of these sources, in general, signals approval, he nonetheless is asserting an interpretive mastery over them, and dialogue with them. It is not necessarily a critique of the former gospels (Bovon)(12)
, but it does suggest a willingness to engage them, with the audience's participation. Rather than simply suggesting that Luke wants to demonstrate himself as a competent researcher, I suggest that the prologue is written to lead the audience into a deliberate dialogue with the gospels they already know and use.
If we approach Jesus' Baptism from the perspective that Luke writes anticipating that many in his audience will know Mark, then his treatment of the Baptism of Jesus becomes more evocative than simply as a different narrative version. A number of items open up the baptism pericope to questioning and cross-examination of the event, certainly characteristics of dialogue:
1. Like Mark, Luke strikes the familiar note of having John define his ministry in relation to Isaiah 40. Unlike Mark, however, Luke expands the quotation to include material which could harmonize with Mark, yet nonetheless adds richly to the score. Specifically, Luke's additions evoke a more social and universal note: "every valley shall be filled and every mountain and hill shall be brought low, ... and all flesh shall see the salvation of God." Would the reader, already aware that Mark's John cites Isaiah 40, appreciate the expansion and reflect on the nuances this addition brings to the understanding of John's mission? Would this reflection engage the reader in comparing the eschatological feature of Isaiah 40 (as in Mark) with the social implications of that preaching (as in Luke)?
2. Luke's discussion of John the Baptist is then expanded with further material not found in Mark: the Q additions of Luke 3:7-9, and 3:17-18, together with the Lukan special material in Luke 3:10-14, expand the image of John the Baptist as one emphasizing ethical behavior, not just eschatological expectation. It is possible, of course, that we also have here an intertextual reference to Matthew or to a written Q - but that is perhaps the subject of further investigation. At any rate, if Luke's audience has Mark, the expansion does modify the perception of John, but not in a way which is in direct conflict: could not the preaching of John simply be an expansion of "preaching a baptism of repentance" which Mark has already spoken of? While not in conflict, still Luke's revised portrait modifies the previous picture, forcing the reader to reappraise the former conception.
3. To an audience that knows that John the Baptist was arrested well into Jesus' ministry (Mk 6:17-18), the re-ordering of John's arrest to a position prior to the baptism immediately forces some kind of reassessment. Is this indeed a chronological correction, or has Luke merely focused on the results of the Baptist's ethical teaching, pursuing the thematic discussion of the results of such teaching at this point rather than later? The resumptive connective egeneto de at Luke 3:21 does not resolve the question. And perhaps precisely this kind of questioning is what Luke wanted from his audience, an interaction with Mark's account, and at least a greater emphasis on the seriousness of John's ethical preaching.
4. But perhaps the chronological change has deeper significance, for in the actual baptism pericope, Luke has omitted the direct agency of John in the baptism: instead of Mark's "and was baptized by John...", Luke simply says "and when Jesus also had been baptized." For an audience that knew from Mark that John baptized Jesus, how should they read this change? Is it a critique on Mark's account? Was Jesus really baptized "by John?" or was it a more passive group baptism? Has Luke deliberately aroused questioning and reflection on a prior text?
Luke's account of the call of the first disciples engages in a strong critique and revision of the Markan narrative, and here one moves into a very different form of intertexual dialogue. There are clear links between Luke and Mark, in which Luke continues to evoke Mark's account - but they are weak , perhaps deliberately weak, and tend to undermine the confidence in Mark's account.
One who knows Mark's gospel is struck at once with the narrative order. In Mark, the call of the first disciples happens abruptly immediately after the return to Galilee. Without any warning, Jesus calls fisherman who appear to be strangers to leave their nets to follow him. The fact that Andrew and Simon and James and John all leave at a simple request is the first miracle of the gospel!
So when Luke retells the gospel narrative and begins not with the call of the disciples, but with the inaugural preaching in Nazareth, followed by exorcisms and healings, before calling the disciples, a gap between Mark and Luke is opened up. The reader is invited by the difference to question whether Mark's gospel is accurate. Luke's portrayal of Jesus as having brought attention to himself by preaching and great works makes it easier to see why the disciples would follow him.
Of course the context of the call is radically different. In Luke, the disciples call is contained within a miraculous fish catch narrative. Perhaps the early readers also knew a version of the fish catch, as contained in John 21 - but that too is another study. At any rate, Luke's account is a radical re-setting of the call, even while the cast of characters is essentially the same -- forcing these two accounts to be brought into sharp juxtaposition. One effect of the new setting is to emphasize the role of fishing, and thus to underline and interpret the Markan statement that they would be fishers of men. This reminds us that Luke, even while different, sounds similar notes to Mark, similarities which would undoubtedly be remembered and emphasized: the disciples are to be fishing for men, not fish; and their response is to leave everything to follow Jesus.
This paper began with an invitation to consider the importance that prior knowledge of the gospels would play in the meaning of later gospels. The standard conception, which is actually fostered by the model of distinct geographical audiences for the gospels, is that prior knowledge of gospels is usually not there, or if possible, unimportant. Bauckham's critique of the narrow geographical audience raises serious questions about the viability of this viewpoint.
But equally important is a discussion of what it would mean to re-use a text which is already well-known by the recipients? What would that do to the way we read, the way we construct meaning? Using Bakhtins's concept of dialogue, from which much of the modern theory of intertextuality is drawn, I suggested that such a dialogical approach would force some rethinking on how we should read Luke. The brief samples seem to bear that out: in a few pericopes from early in the gospel, Luke appears to be engaging his audience in a reconception of important elements of the Jesus story. This engagement encourages dialogue, and opens the text up to further re-readings and re-interpretation.
1. This follows B. H. Streeter's formulation in The Four Gospels, (especially pp. 9-15), which has been very influential.
2. Howard Clark Kee, The Community of the New Age, p. 176.
3. Davies and Alison, The Gospel According to Saint Matthew, p. 136-7; cf. further p. 138-147 on the discussion of location of authorship, which seems to relate the internal issues in the gospel entirely to the possible audience.
4. Philip Esler, Community and Gospel in Luke-Acts, p. 25.
5. J. Louis Martyn, History and Theology of the Fourth Gospel. Cf. Raymond Brown, The Community of the Beloved Disciple.
6. D. N. Peterson, "The Origins of Mark: The Marcan Community in Current Debate," Unpublished Ph.D. dissertation, p. 216.
7. Assuming, of course, Markan priority. Just what constitutes the "later" gospels will vary according the theory of gospel relationships. But while the practice of interpretation might differ, the significance of the gospels' audiences on the interpretation process discusses in this paper will remain equally valid under any theory of synoptic relationships.
8. So, for instance in Joel Green's commentary, The Gospel of Luke, (p. 15) he notes "Similarly, while we remain reasonably confident that one of Luke's major sources was the Gospel of Mark, and that other written narrative materials was available to him, we do not imagine that his first readers had access to their own copies of the Second Gospel or that they could (or would have been interested to) compare the texts of Luke and Mark in ways consistent with modern redaction criticism."
9. Mikhail Bakhtin, Discourse in the Novel, cited in Tzvetan Todorov, Mikhail Baktin and the Dialogical Principle, p. 62.
10. See, for instance, the very suggestive work by Robert L. Brawley, Text to Text Pours Forth Speech: Voices of Scripture in Luke-Acts (Bloomington, Indiana University Press, 1995).
11. As Joel Green notes (surprisingly, considering his previous statement noted above), "Luke refers to the existence of these literary predecessors as if they are well known to his audience." p. 37-8.
12. Although certainly the statement that he intends to write in an orderly (kathexhs) way, and to proffer accuracy (asphaleian), are subtle critiques of his sources - critiques which certainly open up a certain receptivity on the part of the audience to areas of difference between Luke and Mark.