To recap Carrier:Ben C. Smith wrote: ↑Wed Sep 20, 2017 2:04 pm
And now here we have Carrier doing source criticism in order to come up with a trial account behind the book of Acts which hints at a nonhistorical Jesus. I cannot imagine how he would even argue it to be a true primary text for Jesus' lifetime, since would such a text not presume events toward the end of Paul's putative life? So there is that matter (and, again, I cannot lay my hands on the book at the present time). But, more importantly for my question here, Carrier has "discovered" a source document behind Acts, one which he thinks contributes to his overall views.
So... how does this differ from what Theissen does in The Gospels in Context? You accurately point out upthread a bit that one does not have to agree with Carrier's source criticism itself; but he is still doing what historians do when he uses it. Honest question: would the same apply to Theissen (and other scholars who have dated the passion narrative to the thirties)? Unless I misunderstand what you mean by criteriology, neither Carrier (on behalf of his trial account) nor Theissen (on behalf of his passion narrative) uses the much maligned criteria (dissimilarity, embarrassment, and so on) in this particular connection. So how can we tell which of the two is doing source criticism in a way that "no other historian would dare" and which is doing things properly? Or are Theissen and his ilk (including Crossan on this particular topic, as well as Bauckham himself and a host of commentators on Mark) exceptions to your generalization that biblical scholars are cheating, so to speak, in their method of finding primary sources behind the secondary gospels?
My understanding of Carrier in the above passage is that in his analysis of the source he sees inconsistencies that require explanation. He posits that the author is drawing upon two different sources to create his Acts narrative. He postulates that these two different sources are responsible for two different emphases in the speeches.One argument for this being the case is the remarkable disparity between these trial accounts, and speeches and sermons that take place elsewhere. If Luke were simply fabricating the whole thing, these accounts should be consistent: the actors would say the same things when asked to pronounce and defend the gospel, regardless of where they were. But strangely, they are not. Everywhere else, the speeches and sermons in Acts are conspicuously historicist; but when Paul is on trial, where in fact historicist details are even more relevant and would even more certainly come up, they are suddenly completely absent. That is very strange; which means, very improbable. The best explanation of this oddity is that Paul's trial accounts were not wholesale Lukan fabrications but came from a different source than the speeches and sermons Luke added in elsewhere - a source that did not know about a historical Jesus. (p. 376)
We may reasonably disagree with his analysis but what he is doing is a form of source criticism on the narrative from the perspective of the author. He assumes an author fully responsible for narrative content (that is, all the details come out of his own head) is more likely to create a narrative without the sorts of inconsistencies that he (Carrier) believes exist.
That sounds like an application of Day's rule #3 -- whatever our views of the analysis itself.
Compare Theissen and Merz, quoting from page 447 of The Historical Jesus 1998.(3) Source criticism is extended beyond the establishment of the identity of the author, to so-called ‘internal’ features of the source: the author’s aim, their ideological background and their intended audience. It is assumed that knowledge of these facts will aid the historian’s use of the source. (Exemplification of this point has already been suggested, in the case where the historian would be wise to find out whether the author had reason to lie, and why they might have done so.)
You probably see the difference from what Carrier has done with Paul's speeches in Acts. Carrier was analysing the consistency of the narrative plot from the perspective of the author.In [Pesch's] view, [Mark] took over an extensive account of the passion which will have already begun with Peter's confession of Jesus as Messiah (Mark 8.27ff.), to which he made only a few changes. Pesch argues that this account had been written down before 37 CE, since the high priest who is introduced into it anonymously must still be the same as the high priest in the narrative; otherwise he would have to have been distinguished from the high priest who was currently in office. Caiaphas was deposed in 37 CE.
Stimulated by this observation, in 1989 G. Theissen systematically collected all the 'indications of familiarity' in the passion tradition (independently of any division into sources, 'Local Colouring*', (166-99). They indicate the probability that the narrator presupposes that those whom he addresses have prior knowledge of persons and events. Thus the two followers of Jesus who clashed with the soldiers at his arrest remain anonymous, although almost all the other individuals are mentioned by name (often even with their place of origin). If this is a 'protective anonymity', it would make sense only during the lifetime of the individuals concerned. In that case, the traditions in the passion narrative might already have been formulated in the first generation in Jerusalem.
Pesch and Theissen are doing what I elsewhere said is "going beneath/beyond the text" itself and entering the narrative world and mingling with the characters as if they are all there in 3D, in some historical resurrection. Their view of Mark is not as an author but as a participant in the narrative or at least living among the very persons in his story.
Mark's narrative has become like a magical movie that Theissen can walk right into by stepping through the screen and trying to figure out who's who and what's what. The narrative world itself is now the "reality" that the scholar engages with.
Mark doesn't name the HP? The HP must be still alive at the time the story was first told! Mark doesn't name the person who cut off someone's ear? He must still be in hiding at the time the story was first formulated. Mark doesn't name the youth who fled naked? He must still be too embarrassed to come forth and claim his lost property at the time the story was set.
None of this is textual or source criticism. It is stepping in front of the author and (to use McGrath's image) digging beneath the text itself and imaginatively exploring a fantasy or narrative world as if it were all real-life. It is as if Mark was known to have been reporting history that had been relayed to him by eyewitnesses or persons who heard from eyewitnesses, and whose story had been set firm within a very short time of the actual events narrated.
I'm reminded of school classes where we would discuss the psychology and motives of Hamlet, all as a cipher for discussing ourselves, our own motives, human nature, etc. Except a true parallel would be a discussion that attempted to recreate the origins of Shakespeare's story by addressing thirteenth-century sources for the "historical Hamlet" in Denmark.
The text or narrative details in the text are used as keys to enter a narrative-come-to-historical-(true-story)-life world from which author is understood as the transcriber of reports emanating from the persons in the story itself.
This is all assumption that goes way beyond the text or the text's narrative itself. It is going way beyond an abstract author's perspective and is creatively imagining an author in a relatively specific time and place with relatively specific contacts and sources that actually derive from the story being told. (For one hint at an alternative explanation -- as if one were needed -- for Mark keeping his high priest anonymous, see How the Gospel of Mark Portrays Jesus as High Priest.)
You asked about Q, too, but this is enough for one post. Besides, having to snatch web warps on an ad hoc basis today and the next few days ... not easy.